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(no subject)

Who: Leto Atreides the II
Broadcast: Video
Action: Hospitality Deck, Marsiva
When: Feb 4th

[ The video activates itself to reveal a young man staring into space. His eyes are probably the most startling thing about him. Bright, eerily blue eyes that seem to pierce the fabric of reality. You may also see brown flecks of creatures embedded into his skin, near the neck and face.

And suddenly his gaze snaps back to the camera and he is all smiles and good intentions, as if a switch had been turned on. He sits on one of the many beds on the Marsiva Deck and kicks his legs, caught between the impression of a boy and a man.

( or something much older and far more dangerous ) ]

I do not need the spiel and I'm sure you are all quite thankful for that, but I am curious to know what qualifies as entertainment for our most benevolent hosts?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

That depends on your definition of crazy.

[ His expression has long since smoothed over into teasing congeniality. ]

Like, for instance, an army man going on to become a cruise captain.

Reserve. That's like, the half-assed way of being an army man. It's one weekend a month. And you're deflecting.

[And he waggles a reprimanding finger.]

And I don't know. Lets start at like Hannibal Lecter crazy and work our way from there.

Hannibal . . . Lecter . . .

[ He repeats the name quizzically, until the knowledge swims to the forefront of his mind. Ah. Perhaps not a good time to discuss the Fremen custom of using the water of the dead. ]

I have not eaten anyone if that is what you mean.

[ What constitutes as crazy in the past? Leto isn't sure anymore. It's been some time since he's dealt with this situation. Dean would know, would have reminded him.

Finally he shrugs helplessly. ]

I do not know where to start.

So cannibalism can be eighty-sixed. Alright. Down the list then.

Genocide.
Patricide or matricide.
Homicide.
Pretty much any kind of icide?

[ He cocks an eyebrow at that. In a way, these interactions remind him a lot of Dean Winchester. Blandly, he speaks. ]

None of the above. My mother died at childbirth and my father died in my arms three years ago. My aunt killed herself. My grandfather was summarily murdered by my great grandfather.

I'm not sure which icide this falls under, but I defer to your expertise on the matter.

That. [And he shifts slightly in his seat, head tilted to the side.] That's a hell of a family history. You, uh- okay? [And he's totally not taking a moment to act like a caring human being just because he knows what it's like to lose parents. That's not it at all.]

[ His demeanor warms over. Humans. So often frustrating and young and so naive and yet. It's little moments like these that constantly remind Leto that he made the right choice. And that he'd do it all over again. ]

I'm fine. It was all some time ago and I no longer regret what came to pass.

Yeah? What came to pass? [Maybe he should be a little skeptical of a guy who's willing to let himself get quizzed so easily by a practical stranger, but damn if it isn't a nice change from the guys he usually has to deal with.]

A happy ending of sorts.

[ Humanity's survival is ensured, even though Leto's humanity is destroyed. He shrugs again. ]

It's why I'm not particularly fussed about being here. All my affairs are in order.

[He can't help the shake of his head at those words. Sounds like a man who's ready to die. Who else says all their affairs are in order? He's still not all that pleased to be here. And the biggest thing going on in his life was trying to win a gentleman's agreement.]

Well. Congrats on the happy ending.

[ Well. A couple of hundred years from now, at least. He drawls. ]

Why, thank you. I picked it out myself.

Well, aren't you lucky. [And he smirks.] So, good memories then for whoever inherits everything inside your head then, huh? Or do you have to have a kid for that? Do you have...you look kinda young.

That's not how it works.

[ And that's a terrifying thought. ]

And I won't be providing the heirs. Which, I think, the universe can be thankful for.

How does it work? [He already said no to munching on brains, but it's still the first answer that comes to mind.]

...Okay, and after you're done answering, remind me to go back to the list of insane things you might have done.

[ Dry, but not angry. ]

I'm glad I exist for your entertainment.

But to answer your question, it has to do with a certain drug.

[Oh, is the hundred and one questions game getting irritating? His brow arches slightly at that, but he shrugs it off and presses his lips together-it's a bit of a duck face look, really- before it slips back to something normal.]

What can I say, I'm a curious guy. [Comes with the job.] And you're still answering.

[So. to carry on:] That-uh...a drug really? [Yeah, that's not making much sense.]

[ It would take a lot more than one man's curiosity to irritate him. And the Worm sleeps placidly under his skin. He taps his chin lightly. A "drug" is the closest approximation for the Water of Life. Spice. Such terminology would only seek to confuse and befuddle the mind. ]

I do not like lying. And I have no secrets.

A "drug" is the best word I can think of. You cannot live without it if you take too much. It changes you permanently.

[ He points to his eyes, the stark blue that seems to jump out vividly. ]

This drug gives people certain abilities. Such as the ability to navigate space without fear of inaccurate trajectories and to perceive a few glimpses of the future. Too much of it can be . . . lethal.

My mother was on a special diet. Someone had been poisoning her and a spice diet was all that kept her alive when she was in labour.

[ All of it, to bring him and his sister into the world. His lips twist, sardonic. His mother loved his father that much, so much that she would give everything to make sure his legacy continued. ]

[His brow raises higher and higher as his chatty friend keeps going. It just creates a whole bunch of new questions, and he's not even sure which one of these veins to go down.]

Alright. [At least it answers his initial question. Mostly.] So, not natural blue eyes. [He'd call it cheating, but no more so than make-up or hair dye or laser surgeries to fade scars. So.] If it's a drug, do I need to be concerned about you going into some sort of withdrawals? You're not going to drop dead any time soon, right?

[ He smiles, bemused by FDR's couched concern. This is why he kept talking. Probably now, if it was a man who did not care, Leto would have smoothly moved the topic away. But here is someone who wants to learn, who cares.

He was always weak to that. ]

No, I'm hardly going to fall over from withdrawals.

And my eyes are nice enough without the blue. The colour is only an added bonus.

[He chuckles at that, a smirk ghosting across his features. He did like a cocky guy. Kindred spirits or something. Or maybe he just appreciated confidence.]

Well, I guess I'll just have to take your word on that.

[A pause.]

What's your name, anyway?

[ He cocks an eyebrow at that. Amazing. ]

I am called Leto. Leto Atreides.

[Yeah, he's heard the last name a couple times, but it's nice to put a first name with it. And you know, the interesting history and backstory.]

Seems like a good time for introductions, right? I'm FDR.

I'm not calling you by an acronym for this whole voyage.

[ He has limits. ]

... [His eyes narrow stubbornly for a moment before he changes his mind and sighs, expression softening again.]

Alright. But only because I like you. You can call me...Frank. [And quickly following that.] Not Frankie. Never Frankie.

[ He laughs. ]

Very well, Frank.

[ He bows neatly, a sharp polished motion. Here is someone raised in wealth, who knows his manners. ]

It's been a genuine pleasure.

[ Is he flirting? Is he mocking? It's hard to say. ]