bakerstreet | dance, dance

The song couldn't be more made for Luka. The insistent, driving beat, the easy swing, held together by the piano's depth and the airy vocals all add to the absolute show Luka puts on when his loafers touch the d-floor. The lyrics are a match to his form, his energy and his domination of the floor, and as long as he gets to move his body to the music he could dance the night away alone or bring a partner into his arms and send the time spinning.

[Perfect for a sultry slow dance.]

[Not a bad song for a first dance.]

[ Summoned by the gif of her and Papa Nihil, of course ❤️ ]

You did not recommend a song, Sayyida. I would like to know your preference.

[ Sister Imperator was not surprised to see a man out of time before her now. After all, what was time nowadays to her but a nebulous concept? ]

Hm. But what would you suggest?

Mm, I must insist, my preference is to defer to yours.

[ This was as much to be charming as it was circumnavigating his confusion regarding what was currently popular music - in any time. He has recently uncovered past lives, including the origin as an ancient "pagan" god also struggling with the headache of visions of himself in a modern future he cannot yet fathom.

Please, recommend a song. He can find a rhythm and beat in anything (although he does prefer a dominant drumbeat). Basim gives a bow from his abdomen in punctuation. ]

[ Now here was a conflicted man. Sister Imperator watched him for a moment, impassive and distant, before she finally decided. ]

A Whiter Shade of Pale, then.

[ Where - or rather when she was from, this was but two years old.

And so she held out a hand to him, seeing if he would take it. ]

[ Basim is perpetually a man out of time himself - having acquired memories of previous lives that now guide his purpose in this one - one of them as something far greater than human.

He is curious about the unfamiliar sound, musing over what constitutes as modern (ish) music, but is glad to oblige, stepping forward to take the hand extended to him. Now to figure out what manner of dance is assigned to such a song. At least he is trained in styles of dance around the world. Though a bit perplexed, he remains confident. ]

An intriguing choice, Sayyida. May I know your name, if we are to dance?

[ At her command, Nameless Ghouls struck up the music. If he had the sense for it, he would come to understand that those were demons or elementals in humanoid shape - shaitan, as he would know them named. Bound to serve that whom she served. ]

You may call me Sister Imperator. And you are?

[ She was not one for shyness, and as such, placed her other hand at arm's length upon his shoulder, expecting that he would follow into position for the most basic of slow dances. ]

I am called Basim, Sister. [ Among other things, including, in another life, Loki. After an intense journey of the soul, he was able to remember the lives leading up to this one. It brought him internal freedom, but created more questions than were answered. He regards the servant ghouls with a sort of fascination.

Slow dancing with a stranger - how surprisingly intimate. He will, of course, oblige, hands falling into place. The assassin is as interested in these inhuman servants as he is the woman who commands them. Basim himself knows of bonds of servitude and oaths sworn. ]

[ Sister Imperator inclined her head to indicate that she had heard his name. She kept her eye on him as he regarded the Ghouls with interest, even as he fell into step with her and began to sway with her on the dance floor. ]

Now, Basim - why did you want to dance with me?

[ He is tactical and calculated as ever, despite the slow dancing testing his comfort, though he shows no signs that it does so, outside of his private cerebral world.

How to be honest without saying too much - a life skill that serves him well. ] The organization you serve intrigues me. You intrigue me. As far as I know, this is not a crime. Besides, who with a pulse can resist dancing with such a woman as yourself?

And you would approach the Prime Mover, rather than a Sister of Sin or one of the Fathers?

[ A sardonic smile touched upon her lips. ]

You have balls.

[ The music behind them reverberated:

As the miller told his tale
That her face, at first just ghostly
Turned a whiter shade of pale... ]

What is it about the United Clergy of Ghost that intrigues you, Basim?

Why would I engage any less than the head of the snake? In recent times I have known, it was not the Caliph, or the governor, or the warlord, or any famous artists loyal to their cause, but the scorned mother who lead the Order in Baghdad. [ To be sure, originally, the nature of the clergy and its goals reminded him of aspects of the Order he has dedicated this life to opposing. However, who would know better than he that what something appears is never as simple as its surface mirage. Either way, it can only aide his knowledge to investigate further. And frankly, he would prefer satisfying his couriosities with the witch known as Prime Mover than those who know and influence less or may simply be fodder pawns. But also, because he prefers dealing with women to men, as well as seeing them in positions of power - even when they end up his enemies, there is a sort of wisdom and vision they possess that he rarely if ever encounters in men.

Perhaps before unlocking his memories and conquering the demons in his mind, he would have more simply and impulsively immediately assumed the clergy were purely enemies. If not a part of the Order, than a fresh new thing that might as well be the same. But to unlock the perspective of someone greater than human while still living the life of a mortal man had its advantages, to be carefully navigated. To have discovered one was previously an ancient primordial being and the life it lived, particularly Loki (more than simply what humans know as the Norse trickster God), the Isu who survived the extermination of these Archons by becoming human in order to enact his revenge on his own kind and kill Odin himself? He was likely - if not the - inspiration for what men had storytold and crafted into its "religions" as the figure of the deceiver and great opposer himself.

Not that he cared, because he knew his truth and his life and his purpose in the now, but it did lend a sympathetic intrigue towards these people who worshipped such a figure, why they did, and how they hoped to change society with their beliefs. In short, because of who and all that he was, he no longer impulsively rushed to black-and-white judgment, and mostly, sought clarity and understanding. His war was with Odin could wait - wherever the patriarch Isu had incarnated himself among the mortals, it would reveal itself when he was ready. (He did, eventually, find him - but not yet).

Would he say any of this? Of course not, they were dancing, and he was not quick to offer his secrets. Of course, these two are from different layers of the multiverse, and what is true in one's is not in the other's, furthering the point in keeping most of this to himself. ] In my brotherhood, we say "Nothing is true, everything is permitted." Perhaps this clergy of yours and I are not ideologically at odds.

Edited (we love unfinished sentences that we don't see until after clicking "post" and general type fuckery - 5 edits later ... many apologies) 2023-12-05 07:23 (UTC)

[ To use a serpent in his analogy made her smile, veiled and silver. ] Indeed, a woman scorned learns quickly how to use her blades. But I wonder - would you take your heel to my head, or do you dance with me as a snake charmer?

[ She said "there is no reason"
And the truth is plain to see
But I wandered through my playing cards
Would not let her be
One of sixteen vestal virgins
Who were leaving for the coast
And although my eyes were open
They might have just as well've been closed

Sister Imperator watched his ideas shift through the depths of his eyes. He revealed none of them, and she did not probe. There was nothing in his countenance that set off the beast in her, feral and fanged - not yet, anyway, for it was easy to infuriate one Sister Imperator. ]

It seems that you already know of the Clergy I am a part of. Why don't you tell me of your brotherhood?

[ A smirk of his own in return. ] Never a heel, always a blade from the shadows. A snake charmer, then.

[ Basim had been observing, watching, learning from said shadows for some time before revealing himself. Usually he only did so if it was time to strike, and end things. But this was not - at least currently - the necessary or preferred course. ] I am forbidden, and I understand why, so this oath I will not be breaking. Other questions I would answer freely.

[ He re-adjusts his posture, remembering not to get so lost in his thoughts or analysis as to forget they are supposed to be dancing, to some degree. As a somewhat involuntary aside, he adds: ] Your scent is somehow comforting. What is it?

Then you'll have to ensure that your music is sufficiently charming.

[ Sister Imperator appreciated a good song, and the bar had been set very high.

She nodded. She respected secrecy. She was one in pursuit of knowledge, but not all knowledge was to be revealed all at once - the human consciousness could not take such an inundation of information. How Adam and Eve had withstood it without the death of their neurons was admirable. Unless, of course, this was planned...

Drawing her thoughts back to the present, she said - ] We shall see if, indeed, you can answer other questions as freely. I would think it depends on how closely your identity is entwined with your brotherhood.

[ Speaking from experience.

His question made her look up at him in mild surprise. Sister Imperator didn't wear any sort of perfume, but - ah. ]

Frankincense and myrrh. Are you familiar?

I am familiar with most incense, but this combination I recall together in the Christian churches of Baghdad. It is lovely.

I will...do my best to select a song. If you will lend your patience, I will be grateful. [ This was all so much more loaded than she (perhaps) knew, in part because in this life he originated in 9CE and the music he was used to hearing was not exactly shareable in a modern context to be summoned on the spot for a dance. But also because that single human life he was still living was not all he was, and even in this life he would eventually have his consciousness trapped and transferred to the modern era to discover a plethora of music and technology, never mind the primordial life before.

His eyes closed and seemed to flicker back and forth in some sort of meditative search of unseen databases without actually clicking and hearing things until he found something that suited. They opened sharply as he seemed to come to a conclusion, and this is what came out of his unbothered pause.

A desert
Of sand and secrets
A Fountain
Which is revealed among the sands
The spring of my youth
gushes
and dances in a gust of wind
in colors
and voices
that were born from the desert
even if the sky of the moon
will rise
I shall not sit and shall not rest
My lips shall not run dry
If I sing to the desert

Adam and Eve were still complicated feelings to him. His race, the Isu (if Allah/YHWH/Etc came from another world and was an entire race of people and not one entity, to summarize) - his own origin life and species - were the creators of humanity, in their own likeness, but humanity had rebelled, the war wiping out most of the Isu. Now, he understood why they did as they did. If anything, he favored and sided with their cause now. Perhaps that was why he was here, finding music to continue dancing with a satanic nun.

Basim retained memories of the pain that their rebellion had caused - though most of the loss did not affect his "tribe" among the Isu - and how most of his race had been wiped out because of this mutiny of their creation. Could he blame them, when he was something worse now - one of his own in human form seeking to harm others who had been as he was? It was very complicated, but please, let him dance instead of think and suffer. ]

[ Amusing how it was the Christians remembered for these - two of the gifts of the three kings - when the ancient Egyptians had long been using frankincense and myrrh for their own holy rituals, centuries before Christ was born. Such was the success of their conquest.

It mattered not. Basim obviously meant her no offense and was simply stating fact. A recollection from Baghdad, from where many of the first Christians emerged - and thus, many of the progenitors of Satanists and Luciferians.

Sister Imperator closed her eyes as he sang, her claircognizance painting her images of a bronze, blazing sun. Of oases, of date and palm trees. Of silvery moons over rolling dunes, of silks fluttering in a dry, arid breeze. It was a song of pain, of youth, of eternal life, of stories.

There was thunder breaking in his heart, and it was a tangled, snarled web of humanity and prescience.

She opened her eyes, bright green and gleaming. ]

What is it that you seek, Basim?

[ For Basim it was more the most recent olfactory memory, associating that particular combination of scents with buildings he had been sneaking around in or perched atop as a vantage point. He had been Muslim by default of location, growing up on the streets of Baghdad as an orphan, but even more now than before, certain phrases or greetings were more a cultural marker than a sign of any faith. Learning that what would be come the world's most dominant religions were all man made fictions would have been devastating if he had been a person who heavily leaned on faith.

There was indeed thunder breaking in his heart, for so many reasons - deep pain from many lifetimes. Revenge for his son, but primarily, reunion with his love, her soul bound and preserved in an ancient artifact that he would find, and release her from.

There is a fire in his normally calm and observant eyes that is somehow the passion of rage and of love at the same time. ] There was a woman I loved once. She has been ...trapped for centuries. I wish to free her. To see if the fire in her heart still burns for me, as mine does for her. I wish to have her by my side to avenge our son, together.

And you, Sister - what do you seek?

[ Listening to him speak, the poison that was envy trickled into her heart once again. Not because she envied Basim's wife or would take her place, but rather she envied that her partner did not and would never fight for her with the same amount of fervor or single-minded dedication.

It was enough to make a woman wonder why she stuck around. And yet...

Her own heart was stormy when she replied: ]

I seek the success of the United Clergy of Ghost.

[ With her son at its helm as its most powerful Papa Emeritus. ]

[ Technically, Basim didn’t have a wife. The woman he speaks of was another being such as he was, and Isu, Loki’s mistress who he was willing to ruin his status as Odin’s most trusted to be with. His love for her was not taken well, nor the false prophecies the Norn’s made that his son, Fenrir, would usher in the death of the Gods. Though in a way they weren’t wrong. Now, because of Fenrir’s murder, he would seek to end many of them himself.

He slow blinks away bitterness rising in his own heart at the thoughts. When she was freed, of course she would remember him, recognize him despite his new form. But would she love him? It is possible she may even hate him, since he was the one to bind her soul to the artifact.

Complicated, love was. He does notice some sort of externally sensed shift within Imperator. ] I wish you success then. My apologies if I darkened the mood.

Edited 2023-12-05 19:11 (UTC)

[ She accepted his wish with an incline of her head. Already Sister Imperator had retreated into herself, the venom of the snake that was envy working upon her. It was both hardening her heart and yet weakening her senses. ]

It is not your doing.

[ Sister Imperator pulled away. She suddenly wanted to be alone with her thoughts and her rage. ]

Well met, Basim. May we meet again at a more fortuitous time.

[ they have records, right? ]

[ Bless u OP for one of my fav gifs of all time. ♥

Available in past or present tones with a little ballroom, a little jive if you want something from the "soundtrack". Alternately, she can be convinced to make the time for a slow dance. ]

dance, dance

Luka -OC- OtA

Cassandra de Rolo | Critical Role

Addy | John Wick

Sister Imperator, Prime Mover (1969) | Ghost

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Sister Imperator | Ghost