InsaneJournal

Who: T’Challa and Bast
When: Early August
Where: Coffee Shop
What: Friendly meeting, to discuss dream worlds
Rating/Warnings: Low
Status: Complete when posted



T’Challa walked into the coffee shop trying not to look rushed. It had taken him a little longer than he had anticipated to get there, thanks to early rush hour traffic. He wasn’t used to taking a late lunch, accustomed to teacher’s hours. Now that he was working for Stark Industries, he was having to learn the rhythms of a workday all over again.

The fragrant smell of coffee and pastries filled the air and he took a moment to breathe it all in, smiling, before searching for who he was supposed to meet. A myriad of people were chit chatting in the shop, the usual mix of business types, 20 somethings and so on. Today had been a non-lab day so T’Challa had a white dress shirt on with the collar open, and a lightweight grey blazer and matching pants. Spotting Bast, or at least that was who he judged to be her as this was their first time meeting in person, he smiled broadly and approached. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to himself he felt a bit nervous - this was the incarnation of a goddess that in his world, was the centerpiece to the Wakandan kingdom, even if this version of her wasn’t precisely from his dreams.

“I’m sorry for being a bit late, the traffic was unexpected.” he said.

Bast herself was fairly prompt to things, but she’d also felt a little more prone to napping at random hours since the dreams started. Napping was important. Anyone who understood cats understood the general love of naps. But she forced herself to stay awake today because she was meeting T’Challa. She was curious about him and his world. She’d known magicians who’d followed the path of Bast, but as far as having her own champion? That was entirely new.

She was quietly studying the menu when she noticed T’Challa walk through the door. At first, she wasn’t really sure who he was, but the moment he walked over and spoke, she was almost certain of it. “It’s fine. Traffic will do that from time to time.” She pulled her hair over one shoulder, offering him a smile. “Even if it is poor manners for a champion to keep his goddess waiting.” She managed to fight the smile that threatened to spread across her face, but she couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of her eyes. “Luckily I’m not my father, so my temper is much better and I won’t set Sekhmet free on the world.” She really wouldn’t want to mess with Sekhmet. Hathor wasn’t so bad, but Sekhmet was honestly terrible.

“Why don’t we get our drinks and find a seat.”

If T'Challa’s dark complexion was capable of flushing in embarrassment, it was doing so now. He briefly felt the instinct to drop to 0ne knee and beg forgiveness at what he thought was a mild rebuke, but caught himself when he saw the amused glint in her eyes. Right, she was joking. T'Challa smirked and replied, “Well we wouldn't want that.” He nodded at the suggestion of getting their food first and peeked at the menu in Bast’s hands - stealing quick glances at her as if double checking that this was actually happening. He had to admit, she was a far lovelier version of Bast than in his dreams, which threw the normally reserved and composed king off a bit.

“Any recommendations...goddess?” he nearly swallowed the title, unsure how it would sound to anyone overhearing.

Bast rarely felt embarrassed...unless you mentioned the fact that she’d abandoned her post. But she tried not to think about it too much and hoped that Ruby Kane’s prediction that she had a bigger part in what was going to happen in the future. Watching T’Challa, however, she had to wonder what it was like for him in his world. What was their relationship like? “No one wants Sekhmet set loose. Unless you had to have a lot of beer and red dye.” But even then, no one wanted her set loose.

She moved the menu so he could see it easier. While he stole quick glances, Bast was more direct about her studying him. Perhaps it was just who she was, but she thought it might also be the job. You could usually learn a lot from people by just watching them. It helped to know if someone would jump at you or not. He seemed a little uncertain, but she didn’t think it was an abnormal reaction to a new person and a different version of someone you knew in your dreams.

Pointing to a few of the drinks, Bast said, “These are pretty good, but then I am overly drawn to things that involve whipped cream or a lot of cream in general, so I don’t know if that’s something you like. But honestly, you are free to choose anything you want.” She paused, studying the menu for a moment. “I’ve heard good things about the teas and the lattes, too.”

T’Challa chuckled. “Very true. I take it that myth literally happened in your dreams?”

As he studied the menu, he could feel Bast’s eyes on him, studying him more directly. It made him a bit nervous, but he wasn’t surprised, the Bast he knew was just as to the point. Then again, he mused, so was he in the dreams. Perhaps it was a cat thing.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve had a latte,” he commented, as the line shuffled forward a bit. “I think I will try a sparkling one.” He sounded a bit confused by the title but figured he’d be adventurous.

“Yes. That really happened.” She shook her head slightly. Sekhmet was not the most stable, but then she couldn’t say that it was only Sekhmet. It was others, too. It was probably part of the reasons that the Magicians stopped following the path of the gods. “It’s probably for the best that she’s pretty easily tricked by things like that. I can respect her ability to fight and as a warrior, but...she doesn’t know when to stop.”

Her gaze dropping to the sparkling latte, Bast arched an eyebrow. She hadn’t tried that one. She wondered why it was called a sparkling latte. The only things she knew that were called sparkling were either water or cider...or grape juice. “You’ll have to tell me what makes it sparkling. I’d try it, but I think my brain’s stuck on drinks that involve whipped cream.”

T’Challa chuckled softly. “I will. Though now that I see it, I believe it’s been mentioned on the message boards. I think a member of our community owns this establishment.” Finally it came their time to order, and T’Challa went with a small, just in case he didn’t care for it, and decided to go with a slice of lemon pound cake. He proffered to pay for Bast’s once she had ordered. It would be poor manners for the Black Panther not to at least offer to pay for his deity's drink.

Bast wondered at that. Had she talked to the person who owned this before? She didn’t really remember everyone. But she’d liked this place long before she was part of the network. “Do they? That’s definitely curious. Maybe I’ll talk to them sometime.” At the offer, Bast considered it. She could probably allow it. “If you pay for this one, that means we’ll have to do this again sometime because then I’ll have to repay the favor.” She smiled a little at that before adding, “If you can handle being around me another time.”

T’Challa chuckled softly and nodded though it probably looked more like a respectful bow of the head. “It would be an honor to spend more time with you.” he replied. He felt the heat of his face flushing a bit and decided to distract himself by scanning for free tables while they moved to the pickup area for their drinks. He spied a small one by the wall and not too far from the window, which gave them just enough sunlight without it being too much. He hoped it’d still be there by the time their drinks came.

Bast’s smile grew when he replied. “Then you’ve got yourself a deal.” So far she was enjoying T’Challa’s company. He was different from what she expected. He seemed serious, yes, but there was something else she couldn’t quite figure out. After ordering, she moved to the side. Luckily they didn’t have to wait too long before they got their drinks and sat down. “So tell me more about your home. In the dreams, I suppose.”

“Well,” T’Challa started, wrapping his dark brown hands around the warm, insulated cup. “Wakanda is an African nation I could only wish existed here. She’s rich, one of the wealthiest countries on earth, thanks to a rare ore called Vibranium. Wakanda has the largest deposit, and being isolationist, guards it jealously. The country is also technologically advanced beyond any other nation, even America. Even with such progress, her people have not forgotten their roots, and so there is a blend of both tradition and religion with modern science and technology. The panther cult is the heart of Wakanda, with Bast as our goddess.” He paused to smile at her. “Even though I was heir to the throne of Wakanda, I still had to earn the title of Black Panther through combat. It was only then I could eat the heart shaped herb, gain my powers, and be the protector of Wakanda as well as its king.” He chose to skip over the part of how his father had been killed by Klaw, and now in these new dreams, by Bucky Barnes, which allowed him to be king earlier than anticipated. It was a detail he preferred not to discuss as the emotional wounds were still aching.

Bast smiled as she listened to his story. She didn’t recall a Wakanda from her dreams. She wondered what it would be like to dream of a place that didn’t exist. Did he miss it? She imagined that if Egypt didn’t exist, she would have missed it. Already she missed the friends she had from her dreams. She even missed Sadie a little. “What exactly is Vibranium? I’ve never heard of it before. What do you make with it?” She knew a lot about weapons, but nothing outside of her avatar and the usual weapons. Mortals had all sorts of weapons, but she preferred her knives to anything else.

She nodded. “I’ve never heard of a heart shaped herb that gives people powers either. I suppose that is something else singularly within your own dreams. Those that followed my path were, in fact, more skilled with combat magic and animal charming. Specifically cats. Of course, Horus, Nekhbet, and Neith were also both of those things, with their respective animals being falcons and griffins, vultures, and bees.” She chuckled a little at the last part. “I’m not sure I’d call it animal charming, but I guess it sounded more interesting that way. Insect charming just doesn’t have the same ring to it perhaps.”

“Vibranium is a meteoric ore that my people found centuries ago.” T’Challa knew he was interchanging possessiveness of his dream identity with his real world one; it was coming more naturally to him as he accepted his role in his dreams. “It’s called Vibranium for its properties of being capable of absorbing any kind of vibrations and impacts - it’s bulletproof. You cannot pierce it with a knife, unless it’s made of anti-metal. It’s one of the strongest metals on earth. You can make all kinds of items with it. Wakandans use it mostly for close quarter combat weapons - knives, spears. It’s also woven into a thread and used in armor, particularly for the Black Panther outfit.” He had half a mind to tell her that he had his dream outfit here, but restrained himself, for now.

T’Challa nodded. “It does seem to only originate in my dreams. I’ve done thorough research.” He took a sip of his drink as Bast spoke, absorbing every word, and he smiled broadly at the jab at bees. “No it does not. But its seems your dreams vary wildly from mine. I know no combat magic, though I have a good friend who does. May I ask, what role does animal charming play in your dreams?” He was genuinely curious, and his slightly furrowed brow showed it.

Bast listened carefully as T’Challa spoke. She found it particularly interesting given she’d never heard of anything like that. “It sounds very useful. I can see why it would be popular. If I had something like that, I’d probably use it for work.” It wasn’t too dangerous, but people could be a little crazy at times. She had yet to be shot at, but she’d had people throw various things and try to rush the people in her charge. She just had made a point not to let them. It was her job after all. “I wear a full body leopard print leotard in my dreams. It does not protect me from knives.”

“Perhaps not, but you are capable of fighting. The people who follow my path are magicians already.” She smiled, trying to explain. “I once had one cat round up every cat it could find in order to attack my enemies. But those who can do animal charming can communicate with the animals in question, summon them, turn their staff into them, turn other magicians into them. It really depends how skilled they are and how much practice you have. But they also have to be careful not to push the limits of your magic. If they use too much…” She sighed, looking down. “Well, they can die, most literally burn up.”

“What do you do for work?” he sipped again at his drink. The sparkling latte was pretty good. He’d have to remember it for the next time. He was curious what she could possibly do that would require the use of vibranium weaponry.

Upon Bast's description of her dream outfit the usually reserved T’Challa nearly choked on his drink. He covered his mouth a moment to give himself a chance to recover, but his brown eyes were all smiles. “I'm sorry....did you say ‘leopard print leotard’?” He really had no room to judge, he wore a full body panther suit. But somehow all he could envision was something out of the Cats musical.

As she described how magic worked in her world, T'Challa’s eyes widened. It sounded similar to how magic worked in his dreams, to the end that it took a skilled magician to wield it and it was - as Stephen had indicated numerous times - dangerous all the same. And always there was a cost. “Fascinating. That's terrible the price one risks paying, however. That's what happened to Ruby, then? The magician in your dreams? The one you said sacrificed themselves to free you.”

“Ah. I’m a bodyguard? I am in between people and working security detail until further notice, but...I’ll find someone new before too long. I don’t mind security detail too much, though. I like it better than being part of the police department.” She shrugged slightly. “Fans get a little crazy sometimes.”

T’Challa’s reaction to her dream outfit made her laugh. “Yes. That is precisely what I said. I cannot account for my choice in dream clothing.” But she thought about it. “And I have cat eyes, too.” She wasn’t all that surprised by any of that. She didn’t have them here, but she’d heard of people getting gifts and abilities from the dreams. She wasn’t sure she needed cat eyes.

“Yes. That is what happened to Ruby. She sacrificed her life for me and the world. She said that I would play a part in things that would happen in the future.” She still didn’t know what she meant. The guilt still weighed on her. All of that to break her free, knowing that they would be in trouble with the House of Life. “If I ever meet her again, even in this life, I would like to thank her for everything.”

T’Challa raised his eyebrows. “A bodyguard? For celebrities?” He was in no way questioning whether Bast was capable - he had, after all, his own squad of female bodyguards in the dreams that were a force to be reckoned with. It was just somehow the last thing he’d expected her to say was her job. “You were a police officer prior?”

He could feel his face burning a little in embarrassment at his reaction, but was grateful she was equally as amused. He smiled broadly. “I have a confession to make: my dream self also has a cat-like costume, as the name Black Panther implies, so I really cannot judge.” He chuckled. “Though thankfully it does not have a tail. The mask is cat shaped and I do have claws built in, however. I don’t have cat eyes, though.” He tried to imagine Bast as a human but with cat eyes and found the concept a bit unsettling. It was ironic to think he felt it was more ‘normal’ to picture the anthropomorphic cat goddess with the more prominent feline features from his dreams. He broke off a piece of the soft spongy pound cake and popped it into his mouth, being careful to be polite and swallow before speaking again. “Perhaps I will show you the costume sometime.”

T’Challa nodded sagely as Bast recounted Ruby’s sacrifice. He could see flickers of guilt in her expression. It made him think briefly of his own sister Shuri, who ended up ruler of Wakanda after him, who had sacrificed herself to buy him time to escape, effectively helping him and the other Illuminati escape the collapse of the multiverse. So he knew that feeling all too well. “I am sure in the dreams she knows your gratitude. Though I would be careful in what you say to those you find here that are from your dreams. It seems some dream of things at different rates. I had a friend whose timeline of dreams was far behind mine, and I would speak to him of things he had not experienced yet.”

"Yes. For celebrities." She smiled slightly. "You seem surprised." There was a pause. "I started out there because...I guess I wasn't sure exactly what I wanted to do, but I knew that I wanted to protect others. It wasn't a terrible job, but there was far more paperwork than I liked and it felt more distant. I guess not for everyone, but the way I was looking at it. Becoming a bodyguard was honestly something I fell into. I got asked to help on security detail one night and I agreed. I needed money at the time. To care for my dad. Early onset Alzheimer's." She shrugged. "But I fell in love with it. I like that you get to interact with the people you work for a little more. If you find the right people, it's a lot of fun. I mean, it's definitely still a lot of work and being overly serious, but...it's nice to know who you're protecting, I guess."

At the information he gave her, Bast's eyebrows raised just slightly. "I'm sure it is very fashionable." She fought back a smile as she said, "If it's anything like my leotard, I'm sure that no one has and complaints. Unless they just don't notice that it is skin tight because they are in danger of dying." Trying to be vaguely serious for a moment and not laugh, she added, "Unless you do not suffer from skin tight costumes. That could just be me. But I am very curious about this Black Panther costume." Studying him for a moment, she considered something. "Perhaps, should I find myself in possession of it, I would show you my leotard in exchange. I'm sure you will gain some amusement from it. Even if it, too, is very fashionable."

But Ruby's sacrifice was always something. She felt guilty because she had left her post. She knew, however, that she would have died if she'd stayed. Her entire existence would have disappeared. So she would accept what came with getting free, even if it was a mountain of guilt. "She was very special. She was a diviner. She could see into the future. It's a rare gift among magicians."

“I just never thought I’d meet a personal bodyguard of a celebrity,” he chuckled. “I suppose that means you get the right to shove away paparazzi?” He ate his cake and listened as Bast continued about her career, and how she’d found her current line of work. “I am sorry about your father, that can’t be easy. But it’s a noble thing, to be so willing to protect others, regardless of the particulars of the occupation. I”m sure your training as a police officer helped prepare you greatly for this job. It’s also important to do what you love.” He almost smiled a little sadly at that, because he was still torn in his heart about having left his teaching position at UC Irvine to go work in the tech industry for Stark Industries. The dreams had driven him there, filling his head with so much knowledge he thought it might burst if he didn’t put it to good use.

At Bast’s comment about their costumes T’Challa let out a laugh. “I never thought of it that way. Too busy in the dreams being a national symbol to ever get a good look in the mirror. But yes, it is...ah...skin tight. It seems to be a trend for the super heroes in my dreams.” He sipped at his latte, eyes glinting with a bit of daring mischief. “I look forward to our exchange. Here’s to hoping the dreams gift you generously.’ And he lifted the cup slightly in toast.

He nodded as Bast described Ruby. “I see. I’m sorry her abilities could not save her.”

"Now you have. You can add it to your list of careers. Or check it off your bucket list. And I do get to shove them away or at least get in their way and give menacing looks." Her expression sobered slightly. "It's...well, it's not okay. I want to say it's okay, but it's not really. But it's important to keep moving forward." She knew it was. Staying in place didn't help and neither did pretending time wasn't moving forward either way. "It did, yes. Plus, I've always liked different fighting styles. It's interesting to see what will help you with a job." She did love her job. It wasn't something everyone wanted to do, but she did. Even if she'd mostly fallen into it instead of walking directly toward it.

"Something to look forward to, then." She fought back the urge to smile, biting down lightly on her lower lip. "I feel like it's a trend with most super heroes. If it makes you feel better." She was glad to see him a little more relaxed, though. "You'll be the first to know if it does." She wasn't sure what to imagine when it came to the dreams. Maybe they would bring her more than just her knives.

"Being able to see the future doesn't always save lives. I think she might have known what would happen." Which just made it all that much more brave.

T’Challa chuckled at the bucket list comment, nodding. But the smile faded when Bast admitted how hard it was caring for one with such a disease. “No words could be more true.” And he left it at that, for what more could he say? Losing a parent was hard enough, losing them slowly to the ravages of illness was even harder.

He smirked slightly. “I believe it. I wish I could say my dream knowledge of Wakandan fighting techniques was applicable to my work but as it stands, I will have to live with merely practising on my own and applying such skills when Orange County sees fit to throw chaos our way.”

He nodded, eyes still smiling, and by sheer muscle memory performed a hand gesture of respect, touching his forehead. “I am honored.” It was a moment later when he realized what he’d done and he smiled to himself. It was amazing sometimes what passed over from the dreams.

T'Challa nodded. “It takes a special person to be so exceedingly brave.” He fell quiet then, unsure of what to say next.

It was difficult to lose him. Not only in real life, but in the dreams as well. Only in the dreams, she could at least blame Isis for part of it. There was a flicker of anger as she thought about her, but Bast quickly extinguished the flame and pushed it off to the side. There was no reason to bring it up.

"Perhaps that's something else to show me. Unless you're not supposed to share with outsiders." She knew there were things she wasn't supposed to talk about to others. Namely the Magicians, but she was the only one here and no one could really punish her for it. So she was free. It seemed ridiculous to keep a secret here that no one could really do anything with. At least the mortals here seemed to believe her. They probably wouldn't at home. Not that she would have told them, but that was besides the point. "There does seem to be quite a bit of chaos. I haven't seen much, but I've seen some."

The point of the action was slightly lost on her, but she figured it was something either from his dreams or just touching his forehead. The latter meant she was reading too much into things.

The silence stretched on for a moment before she said, "So what am I like in your world? Am I scarier?"

T’Challa smirked. “Technically, I am not. But since in this world Wakanda does not exist, I see no harm in it. Besides, who am I to say ‘no’ to the patron goddess of my people?” T’Challa would later wonder if he should have agreed to such a thing. There was nothing more intimidating than sparring with the variant incarnation of your dream world’s deity! Settling back into his chair as he savored the last of his latte, T’Challa said thoughtfully, “There has been, yes. It’s the strangest of things, since I’ve lived and worked elsewhere and never encountered such...events. At least now I feel better equipped to handle them than when I first arrived.”

T’Challa was quiet a long moment, his lips pressed together into a thoughtful line as he mulled over how best to describe Bast to...Bast.

“You are...extraordinarily intimidating. You are not a goddess to be feared in terms of terror so much as to be revered. You protect Wakanda, impart wisdom to its leaders, are a source of comfort for its people. For the Wakandan royalty, especially for myself as I became your champion, it has been more like being willing servants. You certainly do not appear as you do now.” He smiled at her, for she was beautiful. “You’re more of an anthropomorphic cat than human looking. With the Egyptian vestments, of course.” He still got chills sometimes when he thought of the dreams where he had been personally bestowed by the goddess to be her champion, to be the King of the Dead.

"If it makes you feel better, I shouldn't be talking about the Magicians either. Technically." She shrugged. "But I won't tell anyone about your secret fighting abilities. Plus, I've found that it's more fun to have a sparring partner than not to." She didn't really have a lot of people to practice with unless you joined somewhere or you counted fans attacking the people she was taking care of. She didn't count them as much. "I've never encountered them either. But I've been here most of my life."

She listened as he spoke about the other version of herself. She wondered if she was considered to be intimidating in the dreams. Sekhmet was obviously one to be feared, while Hathor was gentle and calm. But it sounded like she was important to him and his people. Even if she wasn't the person he knew, it made her a little proud to be important to them and her father. Even if that was...different. "Well, I suppose that's not too surprising. I have seen the pictures and depictions of myself. And my avatar has a cat head."

T'Challa had to admit, this was really nice. It was a good break in a day of still getting used to a new workplace and pace, and he really didn't have much of a social life. He supposed that perhaps some things didn't change between the dreams and waking life. His watch suddenly chimed softly. It was a prototype he was working on, based in part on Wakandan technology from the dreams. He was hoping to eventually get to the point of creating the hologram projecting beads all Wakandans of the royal court wore.

“My apologies, goddess.” he said, touching his forehead again and starting to rise. “I must get back.” He really didn't wish to leave, and the reluctance on his face showed it.

Bast gave him a small smile. “No. It’s fine. I can’t expect to steal all your time. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day at work.” She meant it. She was also disappointed, but she’d been enjoying their conversation. She reached out and touched his arm. “We’ll do this again sometime. You still have dream secrets to share with me.” A pause. “But thank you for an interesting afternoon.”

At her touch and gaze T'Challa instinctively felt like kneeling, but knew how odd and out of place that would look here. Instead he smiled. “Indeed we should, though if I tell you all my secrets I fear I may no longer be so interesting.” He smiled more broadly, teasing. His look quickly regained composure and he nodded. “It's been a pleasure and an honor.” And with that he turned and strode away through the growing throng of the late afternoon coffee rush, quickly disappearing - much like a panther would.