digipara | killing is overwhelming; dying might just be your thing (rule 63 bakuratem)

killing is overwhelming; dying might just be your thing (rule 63 bakuratem)

[ New moons are Bakura's favorites.

How could they not be? Less light, less sense of being watched over by something ineffable and yet uncaring. And so reliably they appear, cycling through the sky, faithfully permitting the people to mark their calendars by them - as if something regular is, by its mere ordinariness, made more worthy of enshrining.

Bakura sees things differently. The moon always returns, yes. But, like an egg swallowed by a snake, it always disappears, too.

She reappears in the capital, in the palace, on a very special new moon indeed. With all she's learned on her...pilgrimage...it's easy to infiltrate, now, for not even the guards notice the Beautiful Festival of the Valley has obtained a guest who, if not uninvited, was unexpected. After all, what is there to see? One more supplicant, hood up, flowers held in one jeweled hand. If she slouches over she might even trick people into seeing someone other than herself, someone who isn't out of place in a shendyt. She's not built to Egyptian beauty standards, and besides, she likes her new red coat.

Nothing's changed here. She hadn't expected it to. People are still getting drunk off their asses in the name of holiness; people with more power are still trying to figure out how to snatch it from people with less. The boy people once had tried to get Bakura to befriend - let the foundlings stick together! - until he proved to be such a pompous ass she tried to drown him in the lily pond is, true to the stick that's been up his butt since birth, lecturing some peon or other on propriety. Being scolded by the old man who's taken him under his wing.

Bakura is going to kill that old man last.

No, her target is elsewhere, will be somewhere there's no clamor, because she's all about duty now, isn't she, duty and honor and family and nobility, and it's a good thing Bakura hasn't eaten yet because she just might retch (psyche, she thinks it's funny, but in a fashion that makes her want to break shit, which is how most of Bakura's humor goes nowadays). So with that in mind -

Ah. There. Cornered by the administrators who review the year's taxes, doing business even on a holy day, how terrible, surely someone must rescue this captive Princess. Bakura tosses the flowers she's holding onto someone's memorial - she doesn't even know who; these aren't for them, anyway - and slips around from the back.

She's tall for a woman. And the Princess is short. ]

Barley tithes and goatskins! Now this is a party.

[ Her grin is feral, crooked on one side. Nearly slashed through by a scar she hadn't been sporting when she'd snuck out of this very palace, an eternity and yet no time at all ago.

When she sees the administrator's face spasm like he's trying not to notice curdled cheese, it's like she never left! ]

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[ Bakura chuckles: oh, Atem! You're funny. ] You don't want to know. You're not capable!

[ She grins at Atem, and for a moment, she lets herself look not like a friend but like a thief eyeing her prize. She wants Atem to see the naked want on her face, the need to take, and let Atem assume...what she will...of what Bakura wants.

Atem, Atem, what has being royalty done to you. She'll kill you for you, you know! Kill you for the sake of what you could have been, all that fire and intelligence and wildness. Kill you to free you of that blood in your veins, the blood that tried to stamp out the blood in hers.

But not before she unleashes that fire, not before she drags you down with her. Never revealing it all, mind; that would be a fool's move. The best way to win a game is for the opponent to think they're playing a different one. ] But you could be. If you let me show you.

[ She leans in, attempting to press their foreheads together, murmurs: ]

Want to play?

[She's several thousand years too early to know what dialogue options are, but there are two on her wheel right now:

Want to play?
· Against you? Always.
· I don't have time for this.

Because there's so much she has to do, so much that she can't catch a break even on festival days, and the religious rituals that hold the country together, that connect the people to their gods, are her job to see to, the wheel of the year turns steady and unstoppably and will wait for no lazy priestess who falls asleep in the holiest-holy god-shrine, and Bakura luring her away from that will be nothing but trouble, nothing but chaos.

...but she's so bored. After her dreams, rituals that act like the statues are the real bodies of the gods feels like clumsy child's playacting, what is even the point of parading them around and making them kiss when she's dreamed what they really look like? It'd be a violation of tradition to say anything, though, and while she's greatly favored by the king as an only daughter, she's already pressed her luck hard...

When's the last time she did anything she was actually excited about?

And, Bakura....she loves Bakura like Isis loves Nepthys, she's missed Bakura, and she's concerned that Bakura is going out and getting herself hurt just because she can, and -- this soon after Bakura came back, it feels wrong to push her away.

Their foreheads press together, and that look on Bakura's face is absolutely shameless, though. Atem can read a face as skillfully as she can read the mood of a crowd, but it doesn't take much to see that Bakura looks like she wants to eat her. What is that? She knows Bakura's never cared much for decorum, hasn't been restricted by what's expected of her in the same way Atem has, but surely this isn't really about a tryst, because this advance is very sudden. Something's up. Something's happened.

Eyes, eyes so bright they look red in daylight, search Bakura's face from inches away, flicking over her -- there's that intelligence, that curiosity, that sharp analysis that she only digs up when she cares about what she's looking at. This isn't simple, is it? There's a hidden room, and Bakura is dangling one key in front of her, but it's a trick, and she can't see the true shape of this yet.

The best way to find out is going to be to play, she knows. She doesn't have enough pieces yet to determine the final shape of the puzzle, and in order to see more, she has to engage. Put some skin in the game, so to speak.

She doesn't seriously think Bakura's going to try to sleep with her, though. It's just an opening move, meant to get her interest, as calculated an attack as you're not capable is to her pride.

Dialogue option: selected.

She grins.]

Against you? Always.

[ .....Got her. Bakura's returning grin is instantaneous and genuine, knifing across her face.

She pulls back, downing quite a lot of the remaining wine, and then hands Atem the amphora again. ] Step one! Drink this, or pretend to. We need an excuse for your upcoming scandalous behavior.

[ Her brows quirk in a manner implying Atem, if nobody else present, is going to have the time of her life with this game. And so is Bakura.

Just let her see Atem, the real Atem, one more time.....

No, there's no real Atem. There's just the Princess, and what could have been. But she's going to steal what could have been, before the end. ]

[She takes the significantly-lightened jug.

Oh boy.

She raises it to her mouth, her eyes looking over the rim, and her words echo in it for a moment.]

Just what do you have in mind?

[Atem doesn't expect to be told. She does expect that this will be messy. She also trusts her ability to think on her feet, to adhere to her principles, to play this game with Bakura without compromising herself or the kingdom.

She drinks much less of the wine than she pretends to. She'll want her wits about her for this. But, really, at a festival like this, after how hard she's been working, it wouldn't be unbelievable for her to act up a little bit...]

[ Impatient. Hah! Good things come, and so forth. Why, Bakura's been waiting fifteen years for this, without fully even realizing it, and she'll wait even longer if she has to... ]

That's at least step three.

Oi!

[ This to the group of musicians, playing for the delight of the nobles and royalty in attendance. ] The dead're in a better place, right? Let's show we're happy for 'em! Somethin' faster!

[ The musicians stare at each other, and then at the unruly muscular woman in company of....of....

Gods almighty, what do they DO with this?! This woman is completely out of turn, but that's the Princess...!! ]

Edited 2021-07-16 18:35 (UTC)

[High Priestess Ankhsunatem looks at them expectantly.

When they hesitate, she lends her support. Because she's in, now, wanting to see where this is going, wanting to understand. She's not going to block Bakura's moves.]

Was she unclear?

[ "N-no, your Highness!" The musicians confer, then hastily strike up a faster tune. Bakura laughs. ]

Good, good. A new tradition!

[ She holds out a hand to Atem. ] Care to dance? Your Highness.

[ Step two is apparently make complete fools of themselves in public. Bakura likes step two. ]

[...why not? She is, supposedly, publicly drunk, and what's this going to do? Show the court that Bakura has influence with the royal family? As if that's a secret.

Atem has been working very hard to fulfill the expectations on her and she's still not always taken seriously. So...why not cut a little loose? It's not like those dead statues she's responsible for are the real gods anyway. It has been so long since she's gotten to play...]

Are you sure? It's been a long time. I might step on your feet.

[ Bakura just snorts. ] Like I'd let you.

[ And just like that it's a competition. Fancy that. ]

Oh? Are you that good? Have you become such a skilled dancer while you were away that not even an out-of-practice priestess could step on your feet?

[Just confirming that that's what they're doing.]

[ Bakura takes a step back, raises her arms, and sort of just - undulates. She doesn't know any official dances, but she does have absolute control over her own body, and it's important that Atem know that.

Her voice is a warm burr. ]

No one traps me, Your Highness.

[ It's on. ]

[It's no secret Bakura's inclined to wander the marshes more freely than Atem has ever been able to. Men don't always find her charming, since she never seems afraid to get into trouble. She would be a very bad wife!

But...it's probably the wine hitting, Atem thinks, that's why she watches that happen and the skin of her face feels hot. It's a wine flush, alcohol does that, and wine's much more potent than beer. That's why she feels confined by her own skin, why no-one-traps-me fills her with hot envy, and a desire to compete.

Like Isis loves Nepthys indeed. Get it together, Ankhsunatem, you're not a girl on the edge of maturity at your first Hathor festival, you're the most powerful priestess in the two lands. And she's just been shit-talked, if obliquely, and she'll show Bakura who's trapped--!]

Is that so?

Very well, then. Let's dance!

[It's been a while, but Atem launches into an old Hathor-worship dance, going to circle Bakura, modifying steps and gestures as she needs to if she's forgotten them or if she needs to make or close distance. She doesn't go for a foot stomp yet!]

[ Bakura can't stop her jackal grin. So. Easy.

And fun, too - what's the point of winding someone up if it isn't a good show? Or a good challenge. The High Priestess may know more fancy dances than Bakura does, may be delightfully fun to goad, but she's also the only person Bakura has ever met who's sincerely impressed her. Even the more recent priests she's encountered, the ones whose....absence.....at the festival will no doubt be both gossiped about and then the source of great agony once their reasons for declining to show are known, had been a bore.

Ankhsunatem trying to step on Bakura's feet, playing it cautious to see if she can catch an opening, is twice the thrill a half-dozen men fighting for their literal lives could have ever been. What's it going to be like, facing the girl's father....? Will he be a greater triumph, or will everyone once Atem's gone pale in comparison...?

All the more reason to give this her all, while she can. Poor doomed Atem! Bakura still won't let her win this game. Look at her, with her sophisticated motions and her slender hips. She's so little. Perfect for a thief. Born into the wrong family!

But if she'd been born where she deserved to be born, she'd be ashes and wails.

Bakura lets her own motions grow larger, more daring. She's being examined from all angles, and she makes the most of this. Get an eyeful, Atem. C'mon.

She twists, as if attempting to twirl out of the circle into which Atem's trying to pin her. Was this the moment you were waiting for, Princess? Three...two...one! ]

[It is hard not to get an eyeful! But Atem's determined to win, and not be distracted by the way Bakura's built, by the stretch of muscle under scarred skin that promises it's been earned, that she's been out there in the world, seeing it...

...she sees that opening. Is it deliberate, or is it a real chance to get a little foot-stomp past Bakura's guard? Either way, it'll be interesting...so, she'll take the opportunity, or the bait, whichever it is, and with a quick two-step in, try to get her foot on Bakura's. Will she win, or will she just trigger Bakura's next move?]

[ Quicker than should be possible with Bakura's body at this angle, she pivots, grin flashing -

and here's a foot heading for Atem's, instead, trying to step on the stepper, as she reaches out in an attempt to tug the Princess close, secure her first victory. Hand on the small of the young lady's back, foot encroaching upon the young lady's foot.

Can a pampered High Priestess handle a multi-front attack? ]

[She's expecting the foot one. Her weight's easy to shift; she can slide her foot out of the way, countering the counterattack, and bring her other foot around--

--but she's not looking out for an attempt to touch her. Surely not! The attempt to bring her opposite foot around is thwarted as she stumbles, pulled off-balance and off-rhythm by a hand at her back, bringing her forward! Her eyes widen.]

Ah--!

Got you.

[ It's a purr near Atem's face, close enough to tickle the Royal Ear.

She also tries to step lightly on Atem's foot while she's got the other girl off-balance, just to prove a point. ]

[Shit.

Atem feels like she's just swallowed a hot coal. Warmth starts in her face, then drops down low in her stomach, like a bolt of lighting from the sky to the ground. Only, instead of lightning, it doesn't disappear, it stays there, and, like a fool, her foot gets stepped on. Her shoe's dirty now, she notices distantly, followed by the thought, I've had enough wine. I've become drunk. Her pride stings, and it is much too warm in here.]

You--

[Get it t o g e t h e r. Step 1: pull away! Get distance, to get a clear head! Ankhsunatem leans back, making a polite attempt to get out of the hold. With a burning face, and a smile she puts on that she hopes is gracious, Atem concedes, closing her eyes so her lashes brush the dark paint around them.]

The round goes to you.

H-heh!

[ Bakura snorts, claps Atem on the back before letting her go. ] You're gettin' soft. Do you want the tomb to shut behind you?!

[ Wow, she hasn't said that since....since she was five. Had almost forgotten about it, until being in old, familiar haunts sparked old, familiar memories...

Pfft. Haunts. She's a riot, and only she will ever know. ]

[She lossttttt, ughhhh, she lost and she's sweating and creeping hot embarrassment is crawling across her cheeks, not to mention over her skin everywhere she's been touched.

Atem folds her arms -- it is absolutely a protective wrapping-arms-around-yourself self-soothe disguised as closed-off body language, it's not as powerful as she'd like to make it look -- and shuts her eyes. She'll accept it with grace, with dignity befitting her station. After all, she's not the Pharaoh; she won't win every time.]

I did warn you I was an out of practice dancer.

[Stop flushing. The flush is just the wine. That's it.

She needs to go lie down somewhere cool. Maybe the gardens, the ones her apartments open onto -- there's an artificial pond dug there that sounds very good right now.]

I didn't mean the dancing.

[ Oh, poor Princess, you are so undone by one widdle loss, you pitiful thing! Do you need your close childhood companion to assist you?

Bakura steals (hah! ...no, she will not stop finding herself funny, if you can't laugh at the world it might as well just crush you) a glance around. Everyone is trying not to notice them. Trying not to kick up a fuss. Well, fuck all that. ]

I'm already bored. Let's split, darling damsel.

[ She offers an arm for Atem to support herself against, playing up this whole "being a Princess makes you useless" thing. Needle that pride. Needle it. That face....that expression...

Bakura craves more. ]

[Atem likes to win wherever she can. It's very nearly caused some international diplomatic incidents, when an Amurrite or Hittite person of note thought they could outplay her, out-ride her, out-shoot her, and wagers were made, and she didn't hold back. Of all the medicines she's ever swallowed, her own pride is the most hateful thing, and Atem's forced to do it for the sake of others' status far more often than she likes.

She didn't even throw this one because her father told her to!!!

So, Bakura's supporting arm is rejected. Atem leans away!]

I'm not that drunk.

[And she was going to leave without Bakura. Get some space, clear her head of the wine, lick what's not a wound so much as an unpleasant scratch, and stop feeling so jittery. But...it really is just a scratch, and Bakura's back after so long -- does Atem really want to end the reunion just yet? She's being silly. Yes, of course it's okay if Bakura comes with her.]

But, yes...let's go. It's much too warm in here.

[She's going to step through the courtiers and officials and priests and partiers, headed for the door.]

Of course.

[ Grinning like a jackal, Bakura bows to the royal command. Which does not stop her from grabbing another decanter of wine with one hand and an entire basket of bread with another.

She smirks at the servants while she does so. ]

Priestess's prerogative. We're gonna make an offering.

[ To the god that is Bakura, King of Thieves, that is.

Anyway, where you headed, Your Ladyshipfulness? ]

[Out into the courtyard. Being in the open air is already an improvement; the sun's down, and night isn't normally Atem's favorite time, but she appreciates the cool air on her face, cutting easily through the light linen she wears. She pauses, just a moment, to let the flush fade a little bit, to take in the night-sounds and look up at what stars can be seen in spite of the torches and braziers lit at intervals. There's a lot of them, since there's no moon tonight.

Whew. She's glad to be out of that party.

It would have been more proper to stick around longer, but...she wasn't having fun, anyway. No sooner had the last name on the ancestral record left her lips then she was accosted about temple business...

On the other side of this courtyard is the part of the palace that's closed off to everyone but the royal family, separated by a wall that has a high balcony and windows for public appearances, and one door with two guards to keep anyone who doesn't belong out. The Pharaoh lives here, when he stays in this palace, and so do all present wives and daughters. That's their destination, but Atem's gonna take a second here to breathe air that's not so close, that's not been full of people for hours and collect herself. She's clearly got her eye on the guarded door, though; it's apparent that they're headed for home.]

[ Oh, we're running. Bakura sees how it is. Back to a world of safety, of no scrutiny; back to the coddled cradle. And yet...There's a pause. A delay. Second thoughts, Highness? Realizing the view's sharper, out here?

She takes advantage of Atem's dawdling to catch up, thrusting the basket of bread at the other woman. ] Eat up. Can't drink on an empty stomach.

[ Unless you are, apparently, named "Bakura", because she takes another swig of wine. Homecomings, to a place that was never home....

....Atem got pretty, while Bakura was away. She almost wants to say "Atem grew up", but, it is against the righteous order of things to lie. "Up" is not a direction in which Akhnamkhanon's daughter has ever grown. Just...within. There's a weight to that gaze now.

Bakura wants to feel it pressing down on her, and then, to crush it right back. ]

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