#darwi

[mortiflyer]

can i just say it's so funny to me that villeneuve is planning on doing dune messiah and just stopping because it means most people probably won't ever watch Worm Wars (the rest of the books) like they straight up just won't ever know about it. you and I will know because we are Worm Freaks but the extent of the general populace's knowledge is gonna be "timothee chalamet colonizes a planet"

[letoscrawls]

Can you draw please draw the best Bene Gesserit girlboss, Darwi Odrade?

spent an awful lot of time on this anyways here's mother

[sandwormrp]

Reblog for bigger sample size and all that nonsense. Part one can be found here. If your character was missed, post them below (pls forgive me the polls have limited numbers).

[pantalaiimon]

I've seen dune part 2 twice now (both within a 24 hours interval lol)

the expectations were humongous, the hype was real

and at first, I was a bit thrown off by how much it veered away from the book compared to part 1 - so much so that I was thrown off the pacing of the movie and had trouble getting into its rhythm (because i kept thinking back to changes from 5 minutes before), anyway that first viewing experience was a mess for me

now that I've had more time with it, I can safely say I love the movie. I think I prefer part 1 in some ways (I prefer contemplative & moody to action-packed & drama), but I also love how part 2 leans even more unapologetically into the utter weirdness of the source material, and how cinematic it is

it looks gorgeous (even moreso than part 1), the acting is good to superb, but the dialogue could be better (compared to the books and to part 1), and hans zimmer recycled the first score which I found to be a real disappointment: even though it's still good, it's too repetitive

now unto specifics (incl. potential spoilers):

I am 100% harkonnen trash (which could mean anything, as paul states quite clearly he's harkonnen too, so...) (but yeah i'm harkonnen trash as in I absolutely loved the whole giedi prime sequence, and have soul-binding devotion to & utterly unhinged sexual desire for Feyd-Rautha (yes, even bald and less scheming than in the book), because boy is he twisted in interesting ways

Alia was robbed of a lot, BUT I love the fucked up deranged codependant mother-daughter relationship she and Jessica have got going. actually i live for it, for the abomination. bring it on. Also Jessica, who was the most OOC character to me in part 1, switched to being the most IC in part 2 and i couldn't be happier?

more desert lore, from details like wind traps, to weather & travel conditions, to hints of the sandtrouts, and the whole ecological system linking spice, worms, desert & water. yay for fascinating and immersive worldbuilding (that movie makes you feel the desert, unlike the first one)

more charlotte rampling is always a good move. also sets up dune messiah beautifully. on that note, irulan was well paced, that is, she's allowed to stay muted and observant rather than front and center, again, setting her up nicely for dune messiah. however, stilgar's arc was pushed way ahead and it displeased me, because I feel it lessens the mourning and regret I remember feeling reading the books as he evolved, and how tragic his changing was (highlighting through him, that of his whole people, and their downfall into fanaticism). if the movie rushes to the end result, I care less about that change, for i can't realise and mourn for what was lost along the way. on a similar note, as they played paul as more moral at the beginning of his journey (to make him more likeable), the switch to his mahdi era was a bit jarring. so yay to mohiam & irulan character arc pacing, nay to stilgar & paul.

chani was also allowed more breathing room and dimensions/depth/inner life than in the books, and as I remember finding the book lacking in that respect, can't fault the movie for fixing this.

the ruthlessness of the politics of the landsraad and the intricacies of the manipulations by the bene gesserit were perfectly show-cased. The commentary on the dangers of messianic religions and its melding to politics was too overt for my liking. especially at this stage of the story, it's less of a warning to the insidiousness of fundamentalism if there are glaring neon signs at the onset of that path telling you "do not go, there be dragons"... I know villeneuve wanted to set up herbert's course-correction from dune messiah earlier, but it's too much too early imo

anyway, to conclude, i'd like to lick feyd-rautha's abs

[poemaseletras]

Um lugar não é apenas uma área geográfica; é também um estado de espírito.

— Mahmoud Darwis

[dunechapterquotes]

Confine yourself to observing and you always miss the point of your own life. The object can be stated this way: Live the best life you can. Life is a game whose rules you learn if you leap into it and play it to the hilt. Otherwise, you are caught off balance, continually surprised by the shifting play. Non-players often whine and complain that luck always passes them by. They refuse to see that they can create some of their own luck. -Darwi Odrade

(From Chapterhouse: Dune)

[el-diablo-espacial]

Entre mares, galaxias y lunas tuve suerte....🥃

Pise la misma tierra y soñé bajo las mismas estrellas que tu...☄️🪐

°Magmud Darwis°

[spiceblueeyes]

Responsibilities! What an enormous word. How it burned.

Frank Herbert, Chapterhouse Dune

[himpunid]

Darwis Moridu Comeback, Siap Bertarung di Pilkada Boalemo

Darwis Moridu 'Comeback' Siap Bertarung di Pilkada Boalemo #HimpunID

  HIMPUN.ID – Darwis Moridu atau yang akrab disapa haji Darem, comeback ‘kembali’ siap bertarung pada Pemilihan Kepala Daerah (Pilkada) Boalemo pada Bulan November mendatang. Haji Darem menyatakan siap bertarung saat diwawancarai awak media, usai menghadiri kampanye partai PDI-P, di Desa Mohungo Kecamatan Tilamuta, Boalemo, Kamis 18 Januari 2024. Darwis mengatakan, dirinya kembali mencalonkan…

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 2. A dream of life

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: a bit of voyeurism

— WORDCOUNT: 2.4k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk

The best art imitates life in a compelling way. If it imitates a dream, it must be a dream of life. — Darwi Odrade

She confessed with regret that she did not, in fact, have one of those pain boxes. A Gom Jabbar was available in the palace and in fact was in the Harkonnen's possession as far as she knew, but that was just a poisoned needle tipped with meta-cyanide. What he was after was the… active part of the humanity test. That was only at the disposal of those sisters qualified to carry it out.

She was certain Feyd would do away with her once she explained how and why she didn’t have what he was after and prepared herself internally for death. But it never came. He paused in thought and nodded, and his cool eyes moved away from her with a shadow of sadness to them. Then he turned around, his broad shoulders clad in black exposed to her, and walked toward the table.

“You will come with me.”

He picked up a shigawire reel and shoved it in a compartment of his suit, a small pocket at the side of his chest, then walked right by her on his way out of the room. She followed obediently.

The palace was quiet, free of the usual fuss that filled it during the day — servants scrambling, scraping like traumatised automatons just trying to survive — but as they walked past the way she came she heard a violent sound from the direction where her old room was. They’re destroying my things, she realised.

Her eyes turned to Feyd-Rautha’s back once more, the smooth black of his clothes and white of his skin, and she wondered what plans he had for her. Would he be more subtle with his killing than his brother was, or… more creative? Would she be able to use the stunning word and paralyse him in time to get away? Would she have to kill him instead?

“Am I going too fast for you?” he asked over his shoulder. It was not an honest question, as she could tell from the smile in his voice.

“No?”

“Funny. I can hear you breathing.”

She bit her lip and glared at the back of his head.

They passed from the most shadowed places of the palace into the well-lit ones where snow-white lamps hung in the air. There were more guards in this area too, and she gradually realised they weren’t going to the prisons. They were going to his quarters.

“After you,” he said, stopping in front of a jaundiced pair of double doors guarded on each side by armed guards as still as statues.

She looked up at him warily as she stepped forward. He was still smiling in that cocky, boyish way, but something was incongruent. His awkward pose — not quite facing her, not quite to the side — the bent of his back as if he tried to make himself seem shorter, his arms somewhat aimless at his sides… He was trying to be polite and he didn’t know how.

She stepped inside. His room was nothing like what she imagined. The natural pale yellow of the Arrakeen stone gave it a softness that was at odds with the black linens on the massive bed. Moonlight streamed from the twin window slits on the opposite wall, and on the smooth tables lay an array of little boxes, pots, and cases left half-opened. There was a scent of ink there that cut through the modest smell of disinfectant. He’d only just moved in… He hadn’t had a chance to make the place his own yet.

As she analysed these new surroundings, Feyd stepped in and the doors closed behind them, leaving them alone. The palace seemed all the more distant now.

“My lord na-Baron?”

“Hm?” he muttered as he walked right past her, going to place something inside a drawer by the bed — the shigawire reel.

“W-what… what would you have me do?”

“You can do whatever you like.”

Her eyes slid toward the door. “Can I leave?”

She didn’t expect him to say ‘yes’, but she expected even less what he said next.

“Leave?” he chuckled, looking at her over his shoulder. “Where would you go? You’re my Bene Gesserit now.”

And he continued preparing himself for the night as if it was the most normal of circumstances. A part of her, the most human part, felt offended, but from the periphery of her mind, her training whispered to her what was really going on.

Feyd-Rautha kept his back turned and his attention on the objects in his possession — diskettes of reports he sorted for later reading, the daggers at his belt, the signet ring around his finger — and he spoke to her most dismissively and distantly. He was treating her like a stray cat he had just found and brought into his bedroom. Now he was letting her explore her new home, but he still did not dare to look at her directly, to watch her as openly as he desired. In his every move, however casual, there was nervous self-awareness. Completely opposite to how confident he’d been before he met her.

She’d served the Fenrings before, and the Atreides after them, but until now she had never quite felt owned. Still, if it was a kitten the Harkonnen wanted, that was what she would provide.

Without addressing him, she stepped sideways and turned, letting her posture loosen. Her head tilted back in a light stretch to relieve the tension of expecting death. She moved in a wide arch, slow steps, small sounds, while her fingers traced the surface of the wall for no reason in particular, just to absorb its texture.

“Why do you want me?” she asked in a low and silky voice. Seduction seldom failed with arrogant young men.

“I told you,” answered Feyd rather too quickly, his head bowed as he pretended to clean one of his blades.

“You’ve never had a Bene Gesserit of your own…”

“And it’s about time to have one.”

“Would the Baron approve?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, finally looking up at her. He smiled at the sight of her slinking across the room, dark dress trailing behind her. “Things can change, even in House Harkonnen.”

She paused mid-step to smile back at him. “Changes awaken something in us…”

He gave a noncommital hum and started walking to her, his head tilted in a thoughtful way.

“What sort of things do they teach you?” he asked. “At your… Bene Gesserit school?”

“Many things,” she said with an inviting tone. “Control of the self, the mind, the body… Understanding of history. Political strategy.”

Feyd came to a stop before her, a trepidation into his step. He walked until he cornered her in a darkened divot of the room. Standing a full head taller, he looked down into her eyes.

“What do you want to know?” she whispered.

He frowned, that strange smooth brow ridge wrinkling quite innocently, and his eyes betrayed transparent thoughts. He didn’t know what he wanted to know, but he knew he wanted something.

“What does… a Bene Gesserit do?”

“That depends on what our master wishes.”

“But what do you usually do?”

“We teach. We advise. When asked, we serve.”

“Did Paul Atreides have one?”

“Yes. His mother, Lady Jessica.”

The hints of jealousy were faint. There wasn’t much to envy in the dead… But he looked at her with that strange look in his eyes again, that speck of a little boy lost, and something in her instinctively wanted to cup his cheek, to pet him, and hold him close. She did not doubt that something inside of him wanted it too, and her body was just responding to the subconscious observation.

“Can you kill?” he asked.

“If I have to.”

“And have you?”

“Not yet.”

“In that way, I’m better than you, Bene Gesserit,” he chuckled.

And suddenly, his hand came up to grip the back of her neck. She was startled by how quick the movement was, how his body gave no tells that he would make it. A true predator. He pulled her closer, strong fingers tightening against her nape, pressing her against him. Beneath his armour, the plates of his body were strong. Every feminine part of her responded with a cascade of lust — not at the hidden hint of beauty but at the symbol of his pride. He wasn’t just a pampered princeling living through his allotted years of beauty. He brought his body to the peak of its potential. The motion pulled the veil off her head, and his eyes went to her soft mane of hair. His grip stayed firm, but his gaze traversed this new part of her as if it were a landscape, with hills and dales and quiet streams, all flowing down.

“Na-Baron,” she whispered, hand coming up to grip his wrist.

“Shut up,” he said, blue eyes still focused on her hair. “Go to sleep.” And then he let her go.

He turned from her and walked away with the energy of someone ready to run off — but there was nowhere for him to go, and his steps slowed. She watched him as she rubbed the sore back of her neck, watched how his head bowed for a moment as if he’d just woken up, how he walked toward the large square bed, how he started taking his clothes off…

He was a strange sight indeed. A broken psyche that reflected the duality present in his features — cold and frightful, soft and gentle, brutal but not so much from the absence of affection as from the presence of cruelty on top.

“Where shall I sleep?”

“Hm? Oh…” He looked around as if only just considering that fact. “Whenever you like,” he said, giving up quickly on thinking about it. “But here, in this room. You don’t get out of my sight, little witch. Not until I decide I can trust you.”

He pulled the layers of clothes off. First the armour on his back and shoulders, then the belt around his hips, and the second skin of the black suit that hugged his body.

“And… what shall I wear to bed?”

He paused and turned to look at her. His chest was as white as his face, but strong and chiselled, far less delicate. It shone with the sweat of a long day beneath the yellow light.

“Wear?” he rasped, his lips twisted in a quizzical smile. “Why should you wear anything?”

She settled for sleeping in a chair in a corner of the room. Feyd had gone to sleep completely naked, and he’d not been shy of parading his body around. She watched without fear, without shame, taking note of all the ways his muscles worked, the stretch and give of the skin, the scent of sweat, of blood.

Noting how much he seemed to like her hair, she did not cover it again, and after he fell asleep she quietly took the top layer of her clothing off. The Harkonnens were used to having their servants quite exposed, but she was not about to give him cause to think that that was what she was. If she wanted to survive, she had to walk the tightrope of perception. She had to be above him, as well as below. A knowledgeable Bene Gesserit sister, with all the guileless charm of a kitten.

She remained in her shift, a long grey piece held up by two thin straps, and used her dress as a blanket. She did now sleep but instead pretended to as she entered a state of Prajna meditation.

The secret pathways out of the room became known to her, faint currents invisible to the conscious mind. A spy hole existed in the western wall, covered on both sides by thin material. To the north, a doorway with no handle led into another room. Beyond it, sounds of restless sleeping. Three figures — feminine? Outside, the guards stood watch, but one was close to sleeping.

She was almost at the point where exhaustion caught up with her too, and like a slow receding wave her meditation ended. Her body lay relaxed and limp, head resting on her shoulder, hands folded. But with the last thread of her extended senses, she caught the taste of struggle in the room. Rapid heartbeat, frantic breathing, shifting eyes behind closed lids. Feyd-Rautha was dreaming.

Soundlessly, she slid off the chair and left her dress on it. The floor beneath her naked feet was cold as ice, it made her want to shiver, but she maintained control of every muscle as she walked toward the bed. Feyd’s body was twisted in the silken sheets, twitching, tense. Jolts disturbed his restful state as if in his mind he tried to get away from something. She could almost see the phantom trace of touches on his skin.

He slept on his front, arms thrown above his head, legs spread. His tossing made the sheets slip off his back to reveal a taut, tense expanse that ended in soft cheeks. Beneath them, the faintest hint of hairless, purpling swells and a limp length. He was so vulnerable…

As she got closer, she could hear him mutter words in a foreign language. Was that what they spoke on Giedi Prime? She could make out influences of galactic language all the way to those of the old Earth, but it was just enough to only guess what he was saying. The tone, nevertheless, was clear. He’s afraid, she thought.

She crouched at the edge of the bed where his naked foot hung off the side, her brow crested with worry. He was dangerous, she dared not touch him, and however much she wanted to wake him as a simple human kindness she wanted even more to see where his nightmares led.

With a long and frightful wail muffled by the pillows, Feyd dragged his strong beautiful body upwards, curling like a snake. He pulled his knees up to his chest and started shaking. Every now and then, his foot would kick. The sign of running in a dream. The whiteness of his body, pure and pale as chalk, the hairlessness of even his masculine parts, it made him look so fragile, so defenceless. A fascinating specimen. To think, the step just before the Kwisatz Haderach would look like that...

She let her body fall down to the floor and propped herself against the mattress, her cheek upon the bed. And she watched him, following the shadow of his dreams, for as long as the night went.

[letoscrawls]

I like to think that the AI discourse caused the war against machines in the Dune universe

[kaktus-tajam]

Mulailah dari Gelisah

“Ada satu pesan terakhir?”

Ketika pada podcast LPDP aku ditanya satu pesan akhir, aku teringat nasihat mendalam dari KH Budi Ashari: “mulailah dari rasa gelisah.”

Eh gimana gimana? Rasa gelisah memangnya positif ya?

Ternyata yang dimaksud di sini adalah rasa keprihatinan pada suatu isu. Pada suatu masalah. Pada suatu problematika.

Rasa gelisah itu bisa amat berbeda di tiap orang. Ia hadir sebagai titipan pada hati tiap individu, yang beragam latar, cara pandang, pengalaman hidup, dan lingkungannya.

Kata kakak saya yang seorang dokter anak… banyaak sekalii bayi prematur di Indonesia yang tidak tertolong karena mahal dan terbatasnya inkubator. Kenapa harus impor inkubator sementara alat ini mudah dan murah dibuat? Kenapa harus mengikuti spek ukuran di jurnal ternama? Padahal realitanya di masyarakat, kamar mereka sempit dan bersebelahan dengan kandang kambing. Mana mungkin cukup? Kenapa alatnya terlalu berat sehingga sulit ditransportasi, sementara pasien kita hidup di pegunungan dengan akses jalan kaki terjal?

Ujar seorang Professor teknik mesin penggagas gerakan inkubator gratis untuk bayi prematur di Indonesia.

Aku sakit kanker kelenjar tiroid di usia muda, usia dimana seharusnya aku bersenang dan bermimpi. Tidak hanya fisikku yang sakit, mentalku jatuh. Padahal aku sendiri kuliah psikologi. Bagaimana dengan remaja dan pemuda lain di luar sana yang sendiri menghadapi sakit kronis? Yang dikucilkan? Yang tiap hari harus konsumsi obat? Yang tiap bulan tamasya-nya ke Rumah Sakit?

Ujar seorang penggerak komunitas pasien penyakit kronis.

Rasa gelisah itu tidak bisa direkayasa.

Rasa itu muncul dari belanja masalah pada realita. Muncul dari ilmu tentang kondisi ideal yang kemilau dari hasil literasi, diskusi, dan keyakinan atas ayat-ayat suci. Semakin berilmu, semakin gelisah.

Semakin tinggi ilmunya, semakin sadar akan standar ideal yang menjadi acuan, dan betapa tidak idealnya kondisi saat ini.

Sesederhana acuan penanganan “door-to-needle-time” pasien stroke 15 menit yang sulit diterapkan. Yang kemudian mendorong tim dokter saraf merevolusioner sistem pre-hospital penerimaan pasien stroke dengan mengintegrasikan alat CT scan di ambulans.

Atau sekompleks kenapa suasana kebodohan, kemiskinan, dan keterbelakangan umat terjadi di tengah masyarakat.. sementara pada kitab suci dan tuntunan Nabi telah dipercontohkan sebagai panduan. Yang kemudian membangkitkan seseorang berjuang mendirikan madrasah. Kemudian memberi akses pendidikan yang kini menjadi aliran amal… dari ribuan sekolah di Indonesia dari bangku TK hingga perguruan tinggi. Iya, KH Darwis, pendiri Muhammadiyah.

Rasa gelisah itu bukan kebetulan.

Dipertemukan tokoh ini dan itu, orang ini dan itu. Dipertemukan bacaan-bacaan buku. Dipertemukan guru-guru. Dipertemukan ujian ini, kondisi itu.

Jadi mulailah dari rasa gelisah. Jika belum menemukan rasa itu, mungkin itu tanda baik dari Allah untuk kita lebih semangat mencari ilmu, semangat belanja masalah, semangat membaca buku. Lalu temukan celah-celah itu. Celah besar antara realita dan kondisi ideal.

Berdirilah di celah itu, rasakan kegelisahannya. persempitlah celah itu, mulailah dari situ.

Nanti akan Allah bukakan jalan untuk menjawab kegelisahannya.

InsyaaAllah.

Nabi Muhammad SAW adalah orang yang amat peduli. Amat khawatir dan gelisah tentang kondisi umat dalam kondisi kebodohan dan kerusakan serta kebiadaban saat itu. Ber-tahannuts di gua Hira, bukan karena menghindari masyarakat, justru karena beliau SAW adalah sosok yang selalu hadir di tengah masyarakat.. Rasulullah SAW merasakan kegundahan, kegelisahan, keprihatinan mendalam.

Wallahua’lam.

-h.a.

Kalau kamu, rasa gelisahnya terhadap apa?

[virtuallyinsane]

Photo by Darwis Alwan

[fallauween]

by Darwis Alwan

[cardassian-artistry]

Tag game: pick 4 characters you love and then ask your friends to tell you which one reminds them most of you, eternal gratitude to @thesentdowngirl.

I shall Tag: @fudanshifoucault @mr-downer-2024 @thechadmaryy @anneemay @2violent2revolution @maoistyuri

[virtuallyinsane-autumn]

Photo by Darwis Alwan