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Dinah Lance blondecanary
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Arrakis, Sietch Tabr Guest Room 4, very very late Tuesday night
Later on Dinah would trace it back to the cup of tea. She really, really should have asked how much Spice was in that, before she accepted it. But it made her feel good, relaxed, and it just never occurred to her that a tiny amount might have a larger effect...

Dinah walked into the Clock Tower, scanning around her at all the images the Delphi Circuit was following, projected on the walls, flashing by too fast to pick up. Barbara sat in front of the nearest computer screen, and took off her glasses as Dinah entered and gave her a severe look. Dinah blinked at her.

"What?"

"You know what."
Barbara sighed, and pointed to a screen. System Overflow:
ALL THAT WE SEE OR SEEM IS JUST A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM.

"But--" Poe. Like she'd talked about with Adah. Dream a within dream a just is seem or see we that all....
Before Dinah managed to get to the end of the reversed line, she'd turned to one image, and was lost in it.

Peter, glowing. Blood on his face. Hands out in front of him radiating some awful light. Pleading with-- Claire? Who was trying not to cry. "Do it." Do what? Claire raised a gun,(Dinah raised a gun) her hand shaking--

Another man, one she didn't know (Nathan), landing next to Peter. "Not like this. Together."

Before Claire/Dinah could say anything, do anything, the two of them were shooting upward. High. Higher. Only a dot-- The light was blinding, red and gold and someone was saying "Don't look," but she couldn't look away, with a feeling of complete and total helplessness as the light faded...

.... which persisted as she ran across a giant space of emptiness, stars shining above her, below her, everywhere in the void; stepping stones before her, running running running from each to each. Lightning flashed above her/Not-her. She leaped, desperate, to the next stone, and heard, "I am part of you!" and deep, triumphant laughter. She didn't dare look up, knowing what she'd see, a memory of a memory, red skin, golden antlers and mad eyes, run run run run run--

Still running, always running, through the desert, moving fast like only the Great Makers can, (a sandworm rises faster than anything that large should move) to Jacarutu, the home of the water stealers, a place taboo to all Fremen.

On a dune, silence for a moment, stillness, a butterfly, and: "The Golden Path is dangerous, my son," his father told him/them. He knew that, of course. It was the source of pain no human should be forced to bear, and his father had been unable to face it. (Blackened eyes in a face so much like Leto's...)

"My skin is not my own." And a question: Why?


And she doesn't know, so Dinah goes looking for answers. In a room made entirely of books. Books shelves as walls, books stacked neatly in piles around. Books books books until a blonde woman walks up, smiling. She's dressed like a hippie with a cowboy hat and hands her/them a thread and says "Take a look." A sideways look at the thread, then there are more 'threads' around that thread, then the whole world is made of threads, violin strings, green numbers flowing down a computer screen....

Then there's visions (within the vision), smells: a man half on fire, his stomach made of scars, smiling in release. An apple that could be a jewel that smells of honey, a door in a brick wall, cold cold snow. The sapphire in her/their hand, a massive blue body wearing feathers, features contorted, head separate from the rest, bouncing off into the darkness--

--- that melts into space ships flying through the simulation in front of him/her/them. Facing them on the other end is a fleet of seemingly impossible odds: huge, and inhuman, and utterly terrifying.

"Now aim the Little Doctor," he whispers into the headset, and his lieutenants return a quiet acknowledgement of his orders.

Something fires out of one of the ships at the front, and then it expands, and expands, until it touches the front of the opposing ships, and it explodes, branching out, creating a field that touches the next, and the next, and the next, until the entire enemy fleet is nothing but a clump of dust.

Choking, Dinah turns away, seeking the familiar, but the best she can do is find flagstones and a city....

It's an epic square, and above it towers a majestic palace; the man currently standing in the center of a defensive formation of knights doesn't particularly care about that detail right now. He is staring up at the sky, or rather at the end of his spear, which has just broken off.

He screams something to the crowd, and then there's a torch in his hands, and he's thrusting it up as hard as he can at the gryphon, which screeches at him and comes entirely too close for comfort, talons and beak and lion's body all full of menace.

The flames lick up, and it screeches one more time before it flees back up into the sky.

And holy hell, that thing could have killed him.

(Arthur?)

Stop stop stop change venues I wanna get away I wanna stop-

"Cut!" Tony was aiming a camera at Jack Priest and Lee Nicholas, who were dressed in-- harem pants? With Lee wearing a turban. Jack had on an open vest, showing off his chest, the rolling dunes of the desert behind both guys, with the double moon behind that, lights aimed at them both as the wind blew dust devils around their feet.

"You have to feel it!" Tony was telling Lee, caught in a stern, threatening pose. "C'mon. Look at Jack. Doesn't he make you want to purr?"

"I don't feel it," Lee growled.

Tony bitchfaced. "The script calls for kitten noises, Lee. Don't be a prima donna."

Lee grinned suddenly at Tony. "Inspire me?"

Jack crossed his arms where he was standing, and nodded in agreement.

"Whoa."

Tony turned around then frowned. "Okay. Clear the set! You don't have a pass," he added, pointing at Dinah, then reaching for curtains like those backstage at the Boards, and pulling them across her field of vision.

"Hey!" Too late. Velvet everywhere. She sighs and shrugs, then wanders to--

The uniform was so new! The crisp gray of the 3rd Class, and the helmet that went with it smothered out the worst of the overhead haze, and they were going to all be heroes someday! A haze of black green that hung thick just above the heads of the people in the city. So many people! That was even more attention-grabbing than the sky, really. Bustling to here and there, and some, falling in step alongside her. Him? They were marching. Some were nervous, but no, no room for nervousness.

"Embrace your dreams," his, her, their new mentor had told them, in a voice that practically echoed. "And above all else, protect your honor as SOLDIER."

Those words were their sky. Forget the haze overhead. They were in this to learn the price of freedom.

Heroes!
And the pride carries her to

Walking in the doors of Fandom High, Sardaukar behind her at her shoulders, silk trailing from her headdress like the butterfly she now was. Adult, trusted, ambassador, princess, able to protect herself from poison or knife or stratagem, nothing to worry about, no, not that feeling in her stomach, like.... hmmm. Hungry....

A long line of men in Santa Claus suits, standing in a police line-up room. She stops, and sniffs one. Carefully. No. No smell of Chinese food. Not even Thai. Hmm. Better move on. Have to find the guilty party.

"Next!"

And another. And another. And another. And another. And... the last one is a little guy, half-bald, wearing glasses, and after he's been sniffed, he leers at Dinah/(Francine?).

He's staring at their chest, and drawling, "Wanna go see my sleigh? The seats are made of rich Corinthian leather...."

Eugggggh..... And suddenly Barbara's voice firmly cuts through the disgust, shredding the scene in front of her into paper ribbons: "Enough."

Dinah blinks. Blinks again. Looks at the screen in front of her, that Barbara is tapping the stem of her eyeglasses against.

MEMORY PURGE: Y/N?

"No."

Barbara put her glasses back on. "Then reboot."


Dinah woke up to the sound of wind across sand, tasting cinnamon on her tongue, and knew how the hangover from a sietch orgy must feel but not why anyone would be willing to take part in one. She got up and started walking around the corridors of the sietch, trying to make sense of the images she'd just seen.

[ooc: with permission and contributions from: wantstocheer, trigons_child, future_sandworm, cutsthestrings, endsthegame, bitch_prince, wantstodirect, puppy_fair, irulan_atreides, doesnt_vomit, and thatsamilkshake.

NFI, 'cause Dinah will be asleep and dreaming again soon. But a round of applause for the dreamers.]

[[ajskldfkajskf;ks AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA DREAM!PAT.]]

[*cackling* Yes! Isn't it awesome? HEEE. I'm so glad I could put him ina Santa Claus suit.]

[I'm so glad that wee bit of canon random was useful. AWESOME job writing this.]

[seriously, it helped me change the mood so much! And I had great material to work with-- some of this is wholesale contributions, others were just suggestions, so. I love what came out.]

[[So very seconded. This is amazing.]]

[Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaddy! :D ]

[*lol* Glad that your paternal parent seems familiar! HEE!]

[You. Are. Brilliant. That is all, and all that is needed.]

[eeeee! Thank you. :>]

[omg poor Dinah! *snuggles the roomie*]

[Thanks so much for your permission-- I'm glad you like how it turned out! *pats poor Dinah's brain*]

[Great job!]

[heee, gracias-- talk with Karla about it when Dinah's back, next week?]

[Very yes. Btw, I might start asking you to have a few Kaeleer dreams. Would that be cool?]

Edited at 2009-07-02 05:19 am (UTC)

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