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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 5, 2017 8:03:51 GMT -7
"I'd much prefer tea" she admitted "But it's mostly coffee in the kitchen cupboards" But she would drink coffee on days when she really needed the stuff, It's mostly what kept her awake these days. Teresa listened to what the girl was saying before nodding. "At the moment that's probably the only religion going through this base" she gave a soft smile and then looked down at her legs.
Then came the name. Asya, she liked that. Teresa brought her eyes up and looked at her. "I would shake your hand but these restrict movement" she said and held her own hands up. Jemma had told her that it would help her bruises heal and her abilities to soften down a bit, now she remembered why she didn't use them all that much. But this really was the only thing that was stopping the bones in her arms and wrists from shattering to pieces. She had the gloves in her room that Jemma and Fitz had made together on the Bus but she never wore them either, she was starting to wonder that maybe they would be more comfortable than the things that she had on right now, at least then she might be able to move her fingers a bit more.
Teresa actually hoped they did work because of the fact that the bruises on her arm were the most painful things she had ever felt but that didn't stop her from using the punchbag, it was stupid definitely but it really didn't stop her. Like she had said to Alex in the gym that morning, the pain seemed to clear her head and that was what she needed, a clear head.
"So I'll just say it's nice to meet you" she said after a moment and a smile. It was nice to speak to someone on this base that talked to her like a human being and not a time-bomb waiting to explode. Even if sometimes that was what she felt like. Teresa pulled her lip in between her teeth before looking around the room. "Have you used the pool table yet?" she asked and then moved her eyes back to Asya. If she was being honest, she hadn't but that might be down to the fact that it wasn't fun when you played the game on your own. It would make getting the balls into the holes easier yes but that felt like cheating. Even if Teresa couldn't play right now, but maybe one night if Asya was up for it maybe they could have a game. It would have to be on the night when she didn't have bruises and didn't have to wear the metal. But she thinks she would like that.. If Asya played at all of course.
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Post by Ray on Mar 6, 2017 20:18:57 GMT -7
"I noticed," Asya replies, referring to the metal bracers around her forearms. They look uncomfortable, bulky. Familiar. Not in design or use -- those are unique. But of all the memories carved on the inside of her skull, her sleeves bring to mind the most vivid of them all.
A gleaming metal hand, open and extended towards her in the dark shadows of a sealed concrete bedroom, patient and waiting and kind, yet flecked with fresh drops of blood. A voice whispering to her through the blackness, hoarse, quiet. "Eto normal'no, ditya," and "Ya mogu osvobodit' tebya," and "Ne boysya." It had been cold when she touched it. It never stopped being cold.
Asya glances away, directing her attention towards the pool table as Teresa shifts the conversation and drifts back into the front of her mind. "No," she says with a shake of her head, "Not this one." In her efforts to be unseen, being unheard came with that. She could only imagine how many snooping pairs of eyes would come searching out the loud clatter of billiard balls in the middle of the night. There is also no one to play with when no one knows you exist, and even if there were, it wouldn't entirely be fair for them. An uncanny amount of strength isn't the only thing Hydra granted her with, though she's not sure she'd thank them for this gift either. Even if it kept her fed most nights. "I'm afraid I'm not very good." She lies with a small smile, turning her gaze back towards Teresa.
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 6, 2017 20:34:22 GMT -7
Teresa smiled softly when Asya spoken. "It's okay, I used to work in a bar before I joined SHIELD," she admitted "And I would play there but I would also kick my cousin's ass, he didn't like it so much but in the end he got over it... I think" she said and then huffed out a soft laugh. She was forever kicking James' ass when she was on Corpus and it was true, he hated being beaten by her. But he would let his wife beat him but never anyone else.
If she was honest she actually missed the days when she was just a bartender in a bar full of drunk fishermen. At least there she wouldn't be with these abilities, she wouldn't be worried that she would hurt anyone. And she would have Graeme, but at the same time she wouldn't have these friends that she had known for a while. She wouldn't have been part of the amazing team that Emily had put together. Everything changed and it keeps changing without her being able to stop it. Teresa couldn't hold on last time so she knows full well that she wouldn't be able to hold on this time, no matter how tight she grabbed things. Everything would slip through her fingers.
It was at that moment when everything went quiet, it was like a moment when two people comes to a stop in a conversation. Not sure of what to say next, if she was honest that was how she actually felt. This girl hid from people for a reason but she did the same, just probably for a different reason to her. Teresa pulled her lip in between her teeth before looking down at her hands. Even they looked, and felt, bruised. As if someone had slammed her hand with something. She was tired of not being able to control anything, but that was something she was going to have to work out on her own. She needed control but at the moment she couldn't even control her emotions so how the hell was she going to control her vibrations?
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Post by Ray on Mar 6, 2017 22:07:12 GMT -7
Asya tips her chin upwards slightly, listening to Teresa's short, sweet story of a moment in her life before all of this. A part of her wishes she knew how to reply with more than positive affirmation, wish she had similar stories to tell.
Her life hasn't been all dreary, though sometimes it feels that way. She remembers green fields bathed in golden sunlight, the kindness of total strangers, a warm bed and a hot meal, strong arms holding her close to a steel chest and a beating heart, a lemon cake crumbling between her fingers... But the normal experiences of a normal child have never quite been hers. Instead, they sit behind a high wall built from the flesh and bones of those she was built to kill. All she can do is watch through the small cracks, and try not to get any more blood on her hands.
"I worked in a bar too. For a short time." Asya says, allowing a fragment of herself to peek through. "Though working usually meant drinking in the back room and trying not to break anything," she teases a little, smiling around the edges of her mouth as she glances down to her hands, remembering how his had been so big and warm, so different than the hands that usually find her, skin like fresh-tilled earth spreading beneath her pale fingers. She forces the smile down again, remembering too that she had left him without even saying goodbye. "Decent tips, owner was nice to look at." She adds on for finality, looking back to Teresa and shrugging a shoulder.
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 6, 2017 22:21:19 GMT -7
Teresa listens to what Asya was saying and couldn't help smiling. "I can honestly say that the owner of the bar that I worked in wasn't nice to look at" she gave a soft laugh. Although she did get a lot of drinks brought for her but she never drank them. Graeme was a cop but that didn't mean he could've got her off a drink driving charge. But if she had wanted too then she would've got Graeme to pick her up from work, they pretty much finished the same time anyway.
"I had a lot of drunk fishermen though" she remembered the day that she had gone for the job and actually got it on the spot. Teresa guessed that no one wanted to work in that bar and in the end she found out why. "Where I lived it was like a fishing town so the only guys in there were fishermen but they definitely kept the cops on their toes" she smiled and leaned her head back against the top of the couch. "There were fights about anything and everything" she scoffed and then bit on her lip.
If she was honest she guessed that Graeme was the one to turn up because he wanted to see her and the fighting had given him the excuse. At that thought she tried to put her fingers against the necklace around her throat but because of the metal piece it stopped her fingers from touching the necklace and that caused her a bit of pain before it vanished and she cleared her throat. Her eyes moved up to Asya and she looked over her face. In honesty she looked so much like Bucky that it was pretty much like looking at him, just in female version. If she could see it then no doubt the others could too but she dropped her eyes once more and looked down.
"I'm pretty sure that when I first started working at the bar I dropped nearly every glass, the owner definitely wasn't pleased but other times I just blamed it on the fights" she looked up at Asya and another smile pulled at her lips. It felt good to smile for a bit.
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Post by Ray on Mar 6, 2017 22:49:51 GMT -7
Luke's got a lot of different customers, each with a different story, making her feel less like the sore thumb she is here and instead like she might not be so odd. Might really belong. Might actually be allowed to let her guard down. Sitting squarely in the Bronx on a busy corner, it was a popular spot for the entire neighborhood. The liquor was good, the beer cheap, the bar cleaner than any bar ever had the right to be. He had a way of making every customer feel comfortable and important, had a way of making her feel safe and sane and weak. And with him, that had felt good.
But several shots of whiskey, a bad economy, and nothing to do helped the occasional brawl find its way through Luke's door.
It's how she met him in the first place.
"While I usually blamed the fights on clumsiness." Asya replies, the hint of humor only known to her as she leaves her tendency to be at the center of those fights unsaid. Teresa would probably find out soon enough anyway. She can't imagine Emily would keep Asya's strength a secret for very long. Why would she, when Asya is a total stranger and the rest of these people have been her colleagues for years? A good spy only keeps the secrets of her friends.
At that thought, her gaze drifts to the electronic clock mounted on the wall. The rest of the group would be waking soon, beginning the morning hustle of a dozen restless bodies all over again.
"Well." Asya sighs out, rising to her feet. She stretches her arms straight up into the air, making herself even taller, and tilts slightly to the left to work out the kinks in her back. "It's almost morning." She says, dropping her arms back down to her side, looking back towards Teresa. "I'm going to get an hour of sleep while I can. But..." Asya pauses for a moment, a small smile flickering across her lips. "It was nice meeting you." Picking up her bowl as she turns, she makes her way towards the exit of the rec room.
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 6, 2017 23:22:14 GMT -7
Teresa smiled softly but in honesty thinking about home only made her ache that much more. Mystic was so far behind her now, this really was the only home she had. Yet so far she's done nothing but wander it, making sure that she gets the layout just right. So that if she ever needed to get away from someone quickly then she would know where to go. Her bedroom was at the other end of the hallway. The bar, her home, her car. Everything she had left behind had caused her so much heartache, it's one of the reason why she found everything so hard here. It was also one of the reasons why she couldn't talk to her friends about it. Instead she just kept it locked up.
She watched as Asya raised to her feet and she let her own brown eyes slip to the clock, it was getting towards morning. Where had the time gone? Teresa felt a slight prang because of the fact that she was now going to be on her own once more. Even if it was the first conversation she has had with someone in a very long time, it felt good to be able to talk to someone. For them to look her in the face and not look away if she does something strange. It felt nice to be able to sit down with someone and not only laugh once but a couple of times. To be able to smile.
Sleep? What was that? Teresa hasn't slept properly since the day of the fall. There was too many things going around in her head to allow her to sleep, too many things haunting her. "It was nice to meet you too, I'm here most nights if you find yourself not sleeping" she watched as Asya moved towards the exit. She sighed softly and bit down on her lip. It seemed like today was going to be another long day. Yet as she looked back at the clock she found herself getting up and then walking out the room herself. Heading in the direction of her own room.
Sleep wasn't something she needed, no, she just wasn't ready to see anyone else. Teresa had spent more time in a room with Asya than she has with Barton or anyone else lately but that was down to her decision and not anyone else's.
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Post by Ray on Mar 7, 2017 15:29:51 GMT -7
"It is cruel, isn't it?" She says, looking down at the final product of their work. Two months had passed, and the sight of it still makes her stomach twist in a way she's never felt before. In all her life, the creations wrought by her hands have always been a source of pride, a source of genius. She's been heralded as a hero because of them, but this... A part of her suddenly understands the horror Doctor Frankenstein felt when he laid eyes upon the beast he'd birthed into the world. It should be beautiful, a scientific miracle, an act of God, and yet she can't help but want to avert her gaze. Like she too has crossed the strict line of nature into monstrosity and must turn her back upon it.
But she continues to look, posture slumped, hands fisted deep in her pockets, the weight of their actions sitting upon her shoulders.
Dr. Layla Cho glances up from her chart and her scribbling, a small frown and tired eyes etching her otherwise beautiful face. None of them have slept in weeks, it feels like. She presses her lips tightly together and tries a smile, taking a moment to look down as well -- like a bystander at a funeral.
"After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well; treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing," A second voice intrudes, and Tony lifts her brown eyes to the man stepping into the room. His long white coat sweeps around him as he comes to a halt. The pale artificial light hanging over their heads reflects in the lenses of his glasses as he presses them up his nose with a finger, "Can touch him further."
"Macbeth." Tony replies. "Appropriate." She feels nauseous, and not for the first time. She swallows down the bile.
"The Cradle will keep him in a deep sleep until his body can regain its own strength. He feels nothing." Dr. Mbatha reminds her, setting his hands upon the metal rail at the end of the large glass container. "It isn't cruelty, Miss Stark, as you once told us at the start of this project. It's redemption. For him...and for you."
She rolls her jaw. Pulling one hand from the pocket of her jeans, she steps forward to lay a palm upon the glass. An unmoving face, silent and blind and marked by the trials of death, lies with chin lifted towards the ceiling. For a moment, she wonders if this is how her father felt, knowing he'd created Achilles just for death, time and time again. "There is no redemption for me." She murmurs, fingers trailing away. Her feet carry her from the room to the dark hallway beyond.
The quiet morning is broken by the sound of helicopters in the distance.
Asya turns her gaze towards the skyline, squinting against the bright sun bathing her face in warmth as she sits upon the rooftop of the old mess hall, a pop-tart held in her hands. Two black choppers hover in the distance to the north, growing larger with each passing second. An optimist would know that New Jersey has heavy air traffic, and a passing plane is nothing out of the ordinary. But the realist within her knows the truth.
She sticks the corner of the pop-tart in her mouth, biting down just enough to hold it in place, and pushes herself into a slide down the roof's slanted edge. Upon reaching the end of the line, she jumps off, and lands on flat feet upon the cracked concrete. With no time to spare, and the rotors churning closer, she breaks out into a run.
"Just try to keep the peace." Natalia says she pulls on her sleek black leather jacket over a white shirt. She only fastens one button, and pulls her straight red hair out from beneath the collar. "Last thing we need is another outburst like yesterday when we're trying to play diplomat."
Barton nods a little, though he has no idea how he's supposed to manage that. He's one deaf man against a dozen displeased agents. That's like using a garden hose to quench a wildfire. "Lock everyone in storage. Got it." He replies in a deadpan. Nat cracks a smile as she fixes her cuffs. "What are we even expecting? Prince Joffrey with a dozen armed guards?"
"I don't know." Nat admits with a shake of her head. "Wakanda isn't known for parading their royalty around. What we do know, is that he's apparently a genius, in line to inherit the throne, and has enough money and legal pulling to buy each and every one of us should he feel like it." For a moment, she considers picking up her pistol, but decides against it as she makes her way towards the elevator. Barton follows on her heels.
"So get used to wearing silk togas and feeding him grapes. Got it."
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 7, 2017 15:55:43 GMT -7
"Are we doing the right thing?" Jemma asked after a moment of silence from Emily. She never liked to go up against Fitz and she knew that he had argued that it was a bad idea for Wakanda to come to the bunker but he and Teresa was overruled. They had been friends for a long time and now it just felt like she was constantly fighting him, constantly making him so much more worse. Having said that to Poe a few times when they were alone, she just felt like she was fighting a battle that she couldn't win.
"Yeah, I mean we need the money to get the new stuff, and we can kiss goodbye to being able to be in the open otherwise" Emily gave her a soft smile. "I know that Fitz doesn't like it but in time he will come around, same with Teresa, they just need more time" she admitted.
But how much more time could Teresa take? How many more times was she going to be like the bomb in a front garden that hadn't gone off yet? It was all about time but that they might not have a lot of that.
If Emily was honest she was worried that Teresa would leave, nothing and no one would stop her from going but she was a danger to not only herself but to everyone out there too. She never thought she would say that about one of her team, she never even said that about Caesar, but with her abilities not under control they were looking at a walking time bomb that would just hide throughout the day. Never knowing where she really would be, even if Teresa spent time in the gym, but they could never really truly say they knew where she was.
"Time might be running out on us" she said and looked at Emily. That was what Emily was afraid of.
"We will just have to keep an eye on Fitz and Teresa is all"
"Even if it makes the latter mad?"
"Yes" Emily nodded.
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Post by Ray on Mar 7, 2017 17:05:32 GMT -7
The helicopters land smoothly on the patch of crumbling concrete sitting in front of the doors of the bunker -- an area where soldiers once marched to the command of their superiors. As the rotors slowly wind to a halt, Natalia descends the few steps, using a smile to mask her apprehension. She's infiltrated criminal organizations, corrupt governments, a tricked a self-proclaimed King or two in her lifetime like she was taking a Sunday stroll, but with her friend's lives at stake, the weight of this meeting hangs in the air above her head like an angry cloud.
There can be no room for error.
A group of three exit the first helicopter, dressed in fine business attire and already eyeing Nat standing alone in front of the bunker. They approach, but the expected snobbish air of regality is almost missing from the way they walk. Instead, it's like watching two hunting lions flanking the leader of their pride. Natalia knows the the prince is even before he introduces himself.
"Prince T'challa," she says, holding out a hand to him as they close the gap. He's average height, but he still somehow has a towering presence as he comes to stand in front of her. He's handsome, wearing a deep blue suit that hides little about the muscular yet lithe body underneath. The golden undertones of his dark skin are brought forth by the bright sun, making him as radiant as if he were adorn in gold and jewels. But other than the power pooling off of him in waves, he has no regal embellishments. His amber eyes glance her over once -- not the usual leering look she gets from men of his high status, but the same inspecting look she's giving him. If he finds a fault, his face doesn't show it. But the woman standing just behind him and to the left doesn't hide her disapproval. "I hope the trip wasn't too long."
He takes her hand and gives her a firm shake, a small smile forming on his round lips. "Luckily, not." T'challa replies, just as formally. His Wakandan accent makes his voice smooth. "But I was not sure at first if we were in the right place." He comments, inclining his head just slightly to the side as a hint of humor worms it's way in.
Nat didn't expect to like him so quickly.
Crossing her hands in front of her, she releases a soft laugh, "Then our efforts at being covert are successful."
"Very."
"If you'll follow me, the entrance is through here." Nat continues, motioning with a hand to the re-purposed munitions bunker she stands in front of.
"After you." T'challa says, and together they walk up the steps and through the bunker's doors.
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 7, 2017 17:19:24 GMT -7
Teresa had pulled her hair up into a pony tail and moved out of her room, grabbing her keycard with her. She moved along the corridor and glanced in the rec room and it seemed to be quiet. It felt like everytime that someone had put the news on and they saw friends on there as their enemies or Steve dying over and over again. She pulled her lip in between her teeth before moving in the direction of the kitchen. It seemed more heavy in emotion than normal.
She moved into the kitchen and raised her eyebrow at Emily and Jemma who seemed to be sitting in a huddle at the table whispering. Of course that was the case. But more than that she had actually come out of her room to have a drink while everyone was awake, it was because she was heading in the direction of the gym and needed a drink before going in there. "Something going on?" she asked looking over at Jemma and Emily. It seemed like they were keeping something from her and she didn't like it but she guessed that it was down to the fact that she had removed herself from everyone and everything.
"Nope..." Jemma said very quickly before smiling at her and then Emily rolled her eye.
"Very subtle" she huffed out before looking over at Teresa. "You're up and about later than usual, get any sleep?"
"Not really" she admitted. "But i've only come to grab a bottle of water before I head towards the gym, nothing new there" she shrugged up a shoulder. "Then you can go back to whispering amongst each other" she watched to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water out. She opened the bottle and took a drink of it before moving away towards the door. "Am I missing something?" she finally asked and stopped to look over at Emily and Jemma once more. They both looked at each other and she knew there and then that something was off but she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
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Post by Ray on Mar 7, 2017 18:10:55 GMT -7
They walk side by side through the old SHIELD office which sits on the ground floor of the building, T'challa's guards following silently a few paces behind. The old office hasn't changed much since the fifties, giving the illusion that this building has been long abandoned like the rest of the base. Dust clutches to the surfaces of desks, cobwebs hang from long unused lamps, pencils remain where they were last set down. On the far wall, the original SHIELD logo is painted in black, pictures of Peggy Carter and Howard Stark hanging on either side. T'challa takes a moment to pause and look at their aging colors and faded smiles.
"I wonder how they would feel knowing the current state of their organization." He says aloud.
"If Peggy were still alive," Nat comments, looking to the woman's face, "She would have set it all ablaze herself with Hydra still trapped inside."
T'challa chuckles, "I think you are probably right."
"The entrance to the newly renovated bunker is just this way." Nat says, returning back to the task at hand, turning towards the aged bookshelf which conceals the entrance.
"Nakia, Namor." T'challa says as he too turns away, his amber eyes looking towards the two behind him. The disapproving woman and her male companion both stand at attention. "Stay here and watch the perimeter. Should I need your assistance, I will call."
"Yes, Damisa-Sarki." The woman says with a slight bow of her head. Without even a worrying look, the two split apart and return the length of the room to the front entrance, just as quietly as they had followed. T'challa steps towards the bookshelf as Nat triggers the mechanism to move it aside, watching the other two curiously.
T'challa must have noticed, because as Nat scans her palm and enters the pass-code, he explains, "They are my Dora Milaje. Warriors from tribes across Wakanda. We were trained together from an early age." There is a sense of pride in his voice, and Nat smiles faintly as the elevator doors open. "They would die for me, as I would die for them. But I do not think I will have to worry too much about that possibility."
The elevator carries the two down to the first floor of their underground bunker, a journey that is not over quickly. As precaution, the bunker was built deep into the ground, surrounded on all sides by a thick metal exterior. On their first journey here, Steve had cracked a joke about its ability to survive a nuclear blast. He wasn't all that wrong. Peggy built this during the height of the Cold War, when nuclear warfare was a very near and very real fear on everyone's minds. On one hand, it made them all feel safer in their durable cocoon. On the other, it made feeling the lingering effects of claustrophobia that much more pronounced. The doors open upon the operations floor, and together they step out. T'challa's eyes scan as much as he can see, his hands firmly clasped behind his back.
"This is our main connection to the outside world," Natalia explains, walking him through the hall. "Our laboratories, central computer, and command console are all housed on this floor, though with the recent nonexistent state of operations, making use of it all has been low priority. Either way, Director Fury's final renovation ensured it is all state-of-the art technology."
"SHIELD technology," T'challa corrects, pausing to step into the command console with Nat following behind. He runs his fingers along the screen. "Which can be easily traced and used by Hydra should they discover its existence." He continues, using the console with practiced ease to pull up files without the computer even requesting authorization. Natalia's file, in particular, her past splashed across the screen. Nat frowns a little. "It will all have to be replaced. The sooner the better." He closes the file quickly without giving it much of a look, his body turning back to face her. "Please, lead on."
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 13, 2017 7:55:31 GMT -7
Teresa looked between the two of them again before shaking her head and holding a hand up. "Don't let me keep you" she said before taking a drink of her water. More than anything she really didn't want to care, didn't want to be in on what they were talking about but there was definitely something that was going on and in the end she would probably hear about it unless they were keeping her out of the loop so that she didn't get upset or start to earthquake out on them.
Fitz was looking at the new tech that he was trying to work out but he couldn't actually get it. He slowly looked up from it and then looked to see that two people had walked passed the window. One of them was the very beautiful Nat that pretty much was in charge. Even though everything in him said not to ever call her beautiful as there was probably a chance that she would kick his ass. That was the last thing he needed. Fitz was still trying to get over what had happened on the day that SHIELD fell. He moved closer to the window and watched the two of them walk passed and crossed his arms over his chest. So they had lost then. He couldn't imagine what would happen when Teresa found out that Wakanda was in the bunker. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell them.
Teresa moved back towards the door once more before slowly moving out and then a thought came to her head. "So when is Wakanda coming?" she said out of nowhere and looked back at Emily and Jemma who looked like they were worried that she was going to bring a building down on them. It was quite possible that it could still happen but at the moment she felt calm enough to hear the answer.
"Today" Emily said after a moment and then braced for an onslaught of something from Teresa.
"I just hope you know what you're doing, because our safety is on the line with this" she said and moved out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the gym. This wasn't any o her business. It was all down to the others.
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Post by Ray on Mar 13, 2017 15:29:39 GMT -7
Natalia keeps her eyes on him carefully, trying to determine what kind of power play T'challa is making here. It's already damned clear that he holds the winning cards in his hands, so other than asserting dominance over an already kneeling woman who does not make it a custom to kneel to anyone seems...excessive. The move of a megalomaniac, not the man she determined him to be in their first five minutes of meeting. She turns as he approaches, and they begin walking once more -- this time at a slower pace of Nat's making.
"Replaced?" She asks, keeping her tone friendly even as she digs. T'challa's eyes slide towards her, watching her through his peripherals. "Despite the resources SHIELD had at one time, and the resources your father might think we currently have, any money that is stockpiled is being used for basic necessities. And even if we had the money," Nat glances towards the laboratory, seeing Fitz staring right back at the two of them as they idly make their way passed, "We don't have a Tony Stark."
T'challa stops in his tracks, and turns to face her, his hands clasping behind his back once more. "Let's stop playing games, Miss Romanova." He says, his voice never rising above a calm decibel. "We both know you are not naive and I am not much of a bureaucrat."
Nat stops as well, and a cocky smile fills her lips. "Then tell me what this really is."
"You want to be able to do what you used to. Global reconnaissance and espionage, protecting the world from threats both natural and un-." T'challa says freely, no sign of resistance in his stance, in his voice. This is not a man who is blunt or eager to hide. "But you lack the trust you need, the legality, the resources, everything bound in red tape. The UN can relieve some of this, yes. Their current push for superhero accountability would not only put you in public favor should you agree, but would also remove the instability left behind by SHIELD's collapse. And you'd have free access to the 193 countries who would stamp your organization into existence." Nat's face remains passive, letting him say what he thinks without betraying whether or not he's right. Even if he is. "But that is not enough. Because unlike before, this is not a small problem easily taken care of by a single entity. This is a global war against Hydra. And all you have is a bunker with borrowed technology and the bare necessities. That is why I am here."
"Wakanda is going to fund our operation?" Nat asks, arching her brow.
"No. Not Wakanda." T'challa replies. "Me."
"Why would a prince personally invest in an organization of spies and superheroes?"
T'challa laughs a little, glancing away for a moment before he turns to walk once more at their careful pace. Nat continues alongside him. "Because you are valuable, Miss Romanova. You and your agents are some the best trained individuals of the western world. Combine them with Wakanda's forces, and we could turn the tide of this disaster."
"You want to create an army." Nat says aloud.
"I want to create peace." T'challa corrects. "And for that, we need to stop acting like enemies."
"Trusting an outside force is not going to be easy for these men and women. They've been burned."
"Then let's meet them." He replies. Natalia presses the down arrow at the elevator.
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 13, 2017 15:56:16 GMT -7
Emily watched Teresa as she left the kitchen before looking back at Jemma who looked worried, not because of the fact that Teresa could bring the base down and everything around them but because of the fact that she seemed to be... somewhat speak-able and not in a bad mood. They might actually get through this day without anything bad happen. That would be a god given thing especially when they haven't been able to go a day without something happening.
"Did she seem somewhat... in a good mood?" Jemma raised an eyebrow at Emily before she got up from the table and walked out the kitchen with Emily. "Unless we are in a nightmare where things are going to start of good but end up being very bad"
Emily scoffed at her before looking up and seeing Alex moving towards them. "If you want breakfast then you're out of luck, it seems like everything is buzzing over the visitor today" she put her hands into the front pockets of her dark jeans and then looked up and down the corridor. "Has anyone seen Caesar?" she asked before looking between Alex and Jemma.
"No, but I did see Tripp in the rec room with Poe so you could ask him but he's probably just as in the dark as anyone else, so anyone seen the visitor from Wakanda?" Alex asked.
"No but Teresa seems to be in somewhat of a good mood" Emily said and started walking with the other two females. "Although something is up, have you seen her lately? I mean about her bruises?"
Jemma shook her head. "I saw her the day before yesterday and I told her to wear the gloves but she's been wearing the other things instead, they restrict movement and if I'm honest look like they're just making her feel worse" she admitted before shrugging up a shoulder. "The gloves will help a great deal" she sighed softly. "But at the moment we have bigger worries to think about than Teresa's bruises"
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