Summary:Work proceeds on Mari's suit. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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T'Challa's suite is… remarkable. Well okay it's less a suite and more a castle at the top of a tower with a wonderful view. It is LARGER than Mari's admittedly luxurious apartments and T'Challa spends a fair amount of time here. And he invites Mari to spend it with him regularly.
Today he's in the workshop with the engineering gear and so forth. His holo-design table, though, has been set to handle fabrics. Mari's costume. Which SHOULD be close to finished.
"Well, I think I have figured out how to stabilize SHIELD's reverbium formula. I will go down there tomorrow and see if their lead researcher has any improvements. But that should give us a pretty solid formula to bring to Miss Potts."
And then they can REALLY get to work. With a way to get reverbium fortified cloth, Mari's plans can be put through on an industrial scale.
"I certainly hope it's stable. What I've seen of reverbium is fairly terrifying … " Mari smiles, working with the costume that's laid out on the table.
T'Challa's apartment is nicer than hers, without a doubt, probably made nicer for her by the inhabitant.
"If we get Miss Potts on board to help with the production, it's a big coup for all of us." She smiles, shifting the suit a little to ensure the seams are sturdy. "And there's the young man we met down in the Zone who might be one of our first customers."
"Have I told you lately how grateful I am I met you?"
She hasn't said much about that cannister she bought to him a week or so ago.
T'Challa is a bit bruised and he hasn't set exactly explained why. It might have just been training. He comes on over and leans over to see what she's doing. "Not lately but I am equally grateful. So. Tell me. What is it you have here?"
He's in at the moment a form fitting tee shirt. The sort of thing one might use to work out in but that is also comfortable enough to wear around the house. Of course the place is heated. It is cold outside.
The pool is also heated, so that helps. And the jaccuzi. That is EXTRA heated.
"Any improvements to your costume, by the way?"
"Then let me tell you now. I am grateful." Mari smiles, giving T'Challa a sidelong look and running her hand down his arm. "You should dress like this more often, I find I rather like it. You didn't tell me how you got these bruises though - I was going to see if you wanted to spar a bit later, but I'll take pity on you for now."
It's good the jaccuzi is extra heated, she'll want to use it when they're done here.
"Not many. I don't need many bells and whistles but I'd like to build in a comms system. One that I can use to speak to others - like the Black Panther - when we're in the field. I was hoping you'd help me with that, given you seem to have a handle of tech."
"I've extended the sleeves to form gloves that cover the backs of my hands, but leaving my fingers free so I can use talons or claws as I need to. It still leaves my head bare and I'm wondering about that - if I should consider adding a hood."
"We can spar if you like. But I will want to use the hot tub both before and after." T'Challa chuckles and leans in to kiss Mari's cheek.
"That is indeed what I am here for. I have several designs for a communicator. I have also looked at the armor in your designs and made a few suggestions. We might want to reinforce the weave with light plates in certain areas. It looks a bit like this…"
The Wakandan Prince grins almost impishly. "Would you like me to add fox ears to your hood? I am sure we can make them useful somehow."
"Mmmm. That might be an offer I can refuse. I will even offer you a massage when we're done …" Mari nuzzles T'Challa in return. Looks like they're going to spar after all.
"I thought you might and the armour would be good, we had spoken about that before - you were concerned about me getting shot again." So was she, truth to tell. Looking at the design that he shows her. "That will work and they won't impede the way that I move. "
The impish grin gets a narrowed eyed look, before Mari chuckles in response. "So you think a hood is a good idea and would make me your Vixen even more so?" It's tempting. Little fox ears … would be cute.
"Well. I think that it would be very in keeping with how heroes seem to clothe themselves." T'Challa chuckles. "Though I admit it would be a shame to obscure your lovely face and beautiful hair." She operates openly. Everyone can see who she is. It is a risk for her. A significant one. But she handles it well and it has definitely become part of her brand.
"But certainly if YOU think it makes you more my Vixen then I can't say that I think it's a bad idea. How quickly, by the way, can we have this made and tested?"
Mari does some things by hand and some things by machine and he just isn't sure which is which.
"The only reason I would use a hood would be for protection not obfuscation. I think … it's a risk I can live with, though. I would prefer not to, though the ears are tempting to be sure." She's teasing a little.
"I can have this into production as soon as you confirm the material. It will take a day or so to get it down. Another day for quality assurance and then we test." So all in all, about a week. Mari doesn't like to delay these sorts of things.
"Is that satisfactory? Are you going to tell me about the bruises?"
"Well we probably should be concerned if someone tries to shoot you in the head. I do not know how bullet proof you are but I know that you are not bullet proof all the time." She demonstrated that, having been shot through the leg. Granted she no more or less vulnerable than any other human being is, but she has to worry about being shot at considerably more.
"I can confirm the materials for you right now." Beep. Beep. "There. Done."
T'Challa grins and stands. "Shall we, perhaps, put together some fruit and cheese and retire to the hot tub?" Because hey. They're rich. He has a very nice house. They can do this.
And they work hard, so it's nice to do this.
"Then … give me moment and I'll send it to the production." Mari picks up her tablet and transfers the design along with instructions. She'll check on it in the the morning and speak to her production team.
"Fruit and cheese? Before we spar? I think, your Majesty, you're trying to lull me into spending a lazy evening with you instead." She's not objecting though as she leads them to the kitchen, the ex-model has made herself quite at home.
"You'll get that massage anyway …"
"Well…" T'Challa smirks. "I did not say how long it would be until we sparred. But I am a bit hungry and something to sate that could not do any harm." He hopes. If it does. Well. They can work it off by swimming, yes?
"As to what happened, would you believe that even I have to keep up my fitness and fighting skills? And sometimes the only things to spar with are ghosts. Who are not always known for being gentle." Which is true. Though SOME of those bruises are from being knocked around the other day in the cat suit. Not that he can say that.
Either way he heads to the kitchen and begins cutting up some very nice pears and sharp cheddar.
"Very well." Mari very much doubts they'll get to sparring tonight. They tend to get a little distracted sometimes. "We couldn't have you starving now, could we? Your sister would wonder, again, if she should call your mother in."
"I would believe you have to. You have to maintain that physique of your somehow, unless you're going to tell me that it really is a gift from your Goddess and you look like that without trying."
That was one of the 'stories' she'd concocted when he'd challenged her to, some time ago.
"Ghosts. Hmmm. When you have a perfectly good partner here. Or were you worried that I would take it easy on you?"
"Occasionally you are at work." T'Challa laughs. "I would never take a ghost over you when you are available." The prince is grinning ear to ear. "Not entirely a gift from the goddess no and it does not come without work. I would be lying if I said I do not have her blessing though. And while I doubt she cares about how I look in this shirt, she does require me to be fighting fit."
He has to deal with rogue ghosts if nothing else and he probably has to keep even his kingdom in line the old fashioned way.
Either way he stacks up food on a platter and then nods to Mari as they begin to move. "How do you maintain your physique? Is it entirely a work out of beating up thugs?"
"This is true and if you're so impatient to work out, I suppose your ghosts will have to do." Mari sniffs and tilts her chin a little in mock affront. "Your goddess might not care, but I can tell you I appreciate it." How he looks, she means. Mari really is a little minx, really.
Taking a bottle of wine from the fridge and snagging two glasses, the ex-model follows. Probably no sparring this evening, at all.
"Not entirely, no. I have to be in condition to be able to beat them, after all and my spirits only go so far in aiding that. I would be foolish, wouldn't I, to rely wholly on them. I work out. Cardio and weights, mostly. Sparring when I can find a partner who isn't afraid to … be beaten."
.~{:--------------:}~.
"Mmmmm. Well that certainly IS incentive to keep working out. I can certainly try to arrange things so that you are around when I do…" The Wakandan Prince chuckles and as they get up to the deck he sets the platter out and quickly gets into a 'swimming condition' before sliding into the hot tub. Ah. This is the life.
Sparring? Yes they should do that. At some point.
"Then this is a good thing, if you will." Mari smirks, putting the bottle of wine on the side of the tub along with the glasses. When she herself is changed, she slides into the water and sighs deeply, before turning T'Challa to examine his bruises.
"Your ghosts are very rough, your Highness." She murmurs, running her fingers over his back lightly. "Maybe you should spar with me, indeed. I at least, normally can restrain myself." Because she has to, doesn't she? T'Challa isn't the Black Panther and not as durable as she.
Sparring? Later. Maybe not tonight.
"So how did your Goddess bestow this physique on you?"
"Can you? I shall take note of your restraint in the future." T'Challa laughs as he leans back and sighs. Yes. This is quite nice.
"She blessed me. As she does those who 'work' for her. That blessing helps me… well…" He flexes slightly and the effect is quite nice. Yes he is fit. Not, perhaps, any more fit than a man his age should be if they live a healthy life. But then she's also seen him move and he is… fluid and graceful in a way that belies his mass.
Mari chuckles as T'Challa flexes, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades. "You said this, yes. I was more interested in how. Was there a ceremony, did a ray of light come from the heavens and bathe you? Or did you spend all night praying in a chapel?"
She's pressing him a bit, trying to learn more. There's no suspicion there just genuine curiosity.
"And were you a weedy, nerdy child before this happened?"
"There was a meeting, you could say. It was after I had gone down into the undercity to sort out what was happening there." T'Challa makes a wry face. He leans back and looks at Mari with a smirk. "She did not give me powers over ghosts BEFORE I went down there. Only after. In any case after that was sorted out I was asked to be her agent and champion."
And THAT is when he got the Ghost powers. And the crown.
"There wasn't quite as much prayer as there was an enormous panther coming to find me in a jungle that hadn't been there a moment before."
"She gave you a trial, then. That makes sense. So were you weedy and nerdy before that?" She's teasing a bit. There are photo's of T'Challa before that, after all. "A panther, hmmm?"
As T'Challa leans back, he'll feel Mari's pendant between them, her arms sliding over his shoulders to hold him. "And did the panther tell you to 'roar well' and offer you a ride on its back?" The question is asked as Mari lets out a long sigh.
"How did you sort out the Undercity, T'Challa?"
"She did. Well. Perhaps she did." T'Challa takes some cheese and offers it to Mari. "And yes. A Panther. The Panther goddess is the goddess of my clan and of Wakanda in general." There are and were others but the Panther Goddess is preeminent. Well, just don't tell the White Apes.
"With some difficulty. I had to call in help. Getting past the ghosts was not easy. Fortunately they had to become corporeal to try to harm me. Dealing with the creature at the bottom of it all was even more difficult. In truth there were times I did not think we would make it out alive."
But he did. It sounds like a lot of fighting though.
"She did not. Have you had that experience?" He smirks.
"It makes sense that it was a trial, T'Challa. The Goddess wouldn't want someone who could survive by her gifts alone." Mari answers, taking the cheese from between the mans fingers as they sit there, the water swirling around them.
"I think you've told me, but tell me again, what was at the bottom of the ghosts unrests? And … who was 'we'?"
That might cause T'Challa some problems depending on who had asked along.
"Me? No. Anansi hasn't revealed himself to me. At least not that I remember. Sometimes …." the Wakandan Prince can feel Mari shrug "… I think I can feel him but that's probably just a passing fancy."
"A god of death. Or at least a being who claimed to be one. Anubis. Whether it was the being that the ancient Egyptians knew or not I do not know. But it had the look. And it was stirring up the dead. It was the reason that the dead started creeping into the city above."
T'Challa takes a breath and lets it out slowly. "I tried to kill it. I do not think I did. But it was driven out. And here I am…"
Here he is.
"It is easier, sometimes, when they talk to you. But… sometimes it is also more difficult. Because they want things."
"Anubis, hmmm?" Mari's arms tighten a little about the Wakandan, drawing him closer as he speaks. "Don't some mythologies connect Bast and Anubis? Mother or Lover, perhaps? The Egyptian pantheon is … more confusing than the Greeks or the Romans."
"Is it truly possible to kill a god, T'Challa? Driving him out was a good result and your ghosts seem to have accepted you as their King. As they should - you look rather magnificent with that crown on your head."
"Did it ever give you a reason 'why'?" Of course Mari would be interested. "I'm not sad that Anansi has not spoken to me, T'Challa. I prefer it this way, to wear his totem and serve as I can."
"That was the claim, at any rate. And yes. Bast and Anubis at least shared a common Pantheon when the egyptians were talking about them. But in Wakanda we have never known the Death God as our own. The Jakal was never ours. The Panther. The Ape. All of that, yes. But not that. It was a surprise to see him there. If that was him. It could have easily been someone taking on the shape and legend."
The Prince smiles. "It leaves you free to serve you as you will. There is value to that. More, I think, than you know. I serve at her pleasure, so…"
Another pause. Another breath. T'Challa sinks a bit more into the pool. "No, not really. Something about the dead being HIS domain but… nothing I ever made sense of."
"Interesting …." Mari murmurs, letting T'Challa go so he can sink into the water. For herself, she moves to the edge and takes up the bottle, pouring wind for the two of them as she thinks.
Handing one glass to the Prince, she nods slowly "Serving as I will. If I don't know what the god intends, I can't be accused of failing, can I? Really, the totems were created in a time of great need. One that our countries haven't seen in centuries…"
"You serve at her pleasure and she could call you away at any time…" Mari hands a glass to T'Challa and settles where she is for the moment.
He hadn't told her 'who'. She's noticed that. T'Challa has many … secrets … as monarchs do, she supposes.
"Well you chased him off, that's something and he hasn't returned. Maybe that's all it took." Though she doubts it. There's something … she can't quite put her finger on it.
"Perhaps. I cannot claim to understand what Anubis - if Anubis that was - wanted. Perhaps it will not be worth returning. But part of my reason for being what I am is to keep control of the dead. Were he to return it would be into my kingdom and I would be obligated to call upon my subjects to repel him. Or to defend my subjects from him, if it came to that."
The dead, T'Challa thinks, should be allowed to rest. He does not call them lightly. Not if he has other options. Sometimes he does not, though, and when the need presses he can call an army to him. Though that would be dire indeed.
"She could, yes, call me away at any time. I could refuse of course, but would lose her blessing and my position as well as, much more pertinently, incur her significant displeasure."
"Do you think I doubt you would hold what is yours?" Mari asks, taking a sip from her wine as she watches the Wakandan. "I don't, T'Challa and I have seen how your subjects respond to you. Remember, I stood at your side when you sat on that Throne."
When he finally revealed to her, what he was. Or … some of what he was.
There's a chuckle at the last and a shake of her head. "The sun will rise in the West before you do that. Refuse the call of your Goddess. You are a good man, my prince, and would not put your people at risk like that."
"So you did. Though I will admit, that day things were going particularly well." T'Challa smiles. "No one was pushing back. Well. No ghost was pushing back. The more powerful ones can. And of course the kings…" He sighs.
"Ah I have not told you about that have I? I have a special link with former Wakandan kings. It is sometimes very helpful. Sometimes it is much less so. But they are much… much more opinionated."
That's one way to put it.
"I would not. But if I thought my Goddess were…"
"If you thought your Goddess were … putting your people at risk?" Mari frowns, moving closer again and placing herself in T'Challa's lap. He might be bruised but … "I suppose her interests may conflict with those of your people but would you not trust her? Or is the greater good one of those things that is sticky?"
"What type of link?" That's certainly got Mari's attention. "It's not necessarily familial, is it? Because your throne is won by challenge. Tell me?" T'Challa will realise that Mari seems to understand, instinctively, there are things he just can't tell her. For whatever reason. For now, she's happy to accept that.
"If her interests ever conflicted with those of my people…" T'Challa nods. "Perhaps if she were acting for the good of humanity but even then… my obligation is to my people." The Prince wraps his arms around Mari as she settles. He kisses her cheek and rests her head against his shoulders.
"It isn't necessarily. But the kings of Wakanda are blessed of the goddess. Most not in quite the way I am but we still all share that link. And I can call them. See their memories. Ask them for advice. Every king. From my father on back."
Stretching back thousands of years. Wakanda has one of the oldest monarchies in the world.
"You can?" Mari forgets, for the moment, about T'Challa disobeying his Goddess, and focusses on that link "You can call your father back?" Settling, resting her head against his shoulder, the glass placed on the edge of the tub as she does. "That … must be hard. I suspect you've seen him, there among the ghosts. It was one of the older Kings who answered my questions, wasn't it?"
Letting out a slow breath, the dark skinned woman wonders to herself how much of his Fathers memories, T'Challa can see and what that must be like.
"I can speak to him. His ghost. His memories. I can ask him for advice…" T'Challa smiles. "But it is difficult yes. It is not the same as him being alive. And it is… painful sometimes."
He pauses for longer than the last time and looks down at Mari to offer her another kiss. "It was, yes, one of the older kings. One of the VERY older kings in fact."
"Then we won't talk on him, T'Challa." Mari takes the offered kiss, leaning into it. "I am honoured, my Prince, that you chose share any of that with me." Mari is … his … girlfriend? Nothing more.
"The first, I think. Or one of the first. It speaks well for you that he spoke to me."
Settling down, careful of his bruises, Mari's quiet. "I don't think I want to spar tonight. There are other things I would rather do."
"It speaks well of YOU that he spoke to you. Being the pendant's bearer helped some but he spoke to you on your own account, not for me." T'Challa gives Mari another light kiss on the cheek and smirks. "Though I would expect nothing less of someone so close to my regal self."
At least he doesn't use the royal we. That might be a European convention. Or maybe T'Challa is more a man of the people. He carries himself well but he does seem to be able to relate to everyday folk.
Which means he didn't spend ALL his time in the palace.
"So you said, but still …" Mari smiles, drawing T'Challa's head down for a lingering kiss. "Me or the King?" She teases a litle.
"Now, tell me my Prince. If we aren't going to spar tonight, what shall we do?" Certainly Mari expects to spend more time in the hot tub but they can't spend all night in here, can they?
"I have a few ideas. Starting with finishing this fruit and cheese, having a lot more of this wine and soaking in this glorious tub for a bit longer. Then we can go back inside and enjoy a bit of luxury there."
No. They can't stay here all night. For one thing they'd get wrinkly and people like them neeeeeever get wrinkly. For another… there might be more entertaining things to do.