Mission to Wakanda

April 15, 2016:

The Avengers head to Wakanda in order to attempt to secure the release of a Turkish pilot


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Over the mountains of Wakanda, sometime near sunset on the day before yesterday, a trail of smoke streaks across the crimson sky, heading down, down, down until a large explosion can be heard for miles. A small, wide silhouette of a parachute floats helplessly down to the skeptical earth below.


Shortly after the Turkish President gives an awkward press conference trying to answer the question as to why one of his military pilots was shot down of the classically neutral Wakanda, the government puts pictures of the pilot (Turcan Sahin) in front of the media and there is a lot of talk about the need to get their man home safely. There's insinuation that the Wakandans are being unreasonable and that there are hints he could be tortured, and that if he is, the Turks will go straight to the end and war crimes war crimes war crimes.

Sahin's wife and young child are near the President, crying, and in the sole words that might actually be believed at this hasty press conference, both beg for Turcan's return.

It turned into an international incident pretty quickly. Due to some poor intelligence because Wakanda is notoriously difficult to spy upon, there is a belief within SHIELD that this torture could be happening. The Wakandan silence doesn't help.

SHIELD doesn't want in. The world's militaries are of no use. Diplomacy has completely broken down. So, when you're out of options, you call the Avengers.

The jungle here is thick and dense and wet and it is hot. Under his armor, Steve Rogers sweats until his body is slick below his chain mail. As they trudge along forward, the vibranium shield rides atop his back.

"While I was hoping for some missions in warmer climates, this is going a little far on the other end of the spectrum," Mockingbird grumbles. She has her hair pulled back in a high tail to keep it from sticking to her face, and she has to keep sliding her goggles up her nose as they slide down from sweat. "This is making me long for my old costume." The terrible one with no leg coverage. She trudges behind Cap miserably.

"Never been trained as a Ranger." mutters Spider-Woman as she moves along, "but these trees are -made- for swinging." she adds as she commences Psi-Web-Brachiation. But that's muttered softly over the comms. Up there, she gets a breeze as she swings along.
She's a city girl at heart, but… for now she's just enjoying this. Despite the whole.. serious international incident thingamagoober.

"So this is what a jungle is like." Peter's taken his shirt off and draped it over a shoulder. "And I thought southern California was bad during August." But at least it's nowhere near as populated and the only thoughts he's picking up are those of his companions. By this time, they're familiar enough that he can almost ignore them. Except for when someone is ogling a sweaty Steve and bringing his own attention to the man.

Meggan is in the edition of her forest-green outfit that doesn't have the gloves. Other than that the weather doesn't seem to be bothering her, though she's not flying around. Probably to avoid hair sparkles giving away the game. "Oh it's not that bad, you just have to wear breathable fabrics," she says conversationally.


Shift has separated his uniform until his arms and legs are mostly exposed, the gunmetal gray appearing as more of a unitard than its conventional cover-all design. The boots remain, clinging to his calves. With more skin exposed than usual, it's even more clear that he's in excellent shape. The muscled skin glistens with fresh sweat upon African black, as he trudges along behind the others, having taken up the rear.

"Yeah, not chain mail," he murmurs in response to Meggan. It's a good natured ribbing though, and a silver eye turns toward Steve with a glimmer of mirth.

Caitlin's gone for a more comfortable version of her usual bodysuit— the legs are gone to the high bones of her hips, and the sleeves are missing, too. She's not gone full on bare midriff, but the heat's clearly making her think about it.

"I have the stupidest superpowers ever. You literally can't set me on fire with a blowtorch, but the humidity still makes me crabby," she complains to anyone within earshot. She looks a bit flushed and miserable, and has tied her hair back in a tight ponytail to get it out of the way. It still tries to flare and explode in frizzy ginger curls at the high ambient humidity, framing her face with curling, coiling escapees of ginger hair.

Bobbi scrubs the back if her arm across her forehead, but her suit isn't really designed to be breathable and it just smears the sweat around. "I guess it could be worse. The mosquitos haven't drained us entirely yet."

"I could keep the humidity out." Peter responds to Caitlin. "But I'd also keep the air out so breathing would be an issue. I think comfort takes a back seat to staying conscious." Though he can at least telekinetically 'hop' over things he doesn't want to step in.

Up ahead of the group, Spider-Woman lands upon a large branch, "Have you -seen- these trees?" she asks over the comm. "I think this one is bigger than my apartment building." she mutters as she crouches down, knees spread and balancing on the balls of her feet there. She's watching ahead.. letting the rest of the team catch up to her. Her only concession to the heat is an alternate costume. It's.. like a photo negative. It's a -white- suit, with black spider etchings and such rather than an all black suit because.. she'd sweat to death in precisely four point seven minutes in -that- thing.

"Oh, are there mosquitos?" says Meggan.

She does look sympathetic at Shift and Caitlin in particular.

There is a reason even SHIELD doesn't have a lot of intelligence on Wakanda, and surprisingly it's not because they were too afraid of the heat…

The air is filled with the heady scent of sweat and ancient vegetation. Bird calls, rustling leaves, and the steady hum of hundreds of flying insects serves as white noise underlying the quiet exchange between the interlopers as they stalk through the Wakandan jungle. Quietly, a new sound slips almost effortlessly into the low, dull buzz of life that surrounds them — a mechanical whir followed by several soft clicks.

A red dot blinks into existence on Captain America's mailed chest, sharply ascending until it rests over his heart. For a moment it's alone, but in an instant a dozen more appear scattered across every torso amongst the party only half a second before the steady mechanical whir speeds up, grows more urgent and high-pitched, and then finally explodes in a roar of gunfire as the underbrush is shredded by the multiple gun emplacements scattered about the foliage.

Steve doesn't say much as he trudges along and listens to the others. It's this quiet that allows him to hear the clicking and the whirring of the guns as they pull into place. "Get down!" he exclaims, presumably to those who might suffer from such an attack. He hits the deck, using his shield to cover himself, and hopefully a couple of the other squishy ones. "Heavies, go clear those out. Sting, get me a sweep of any minds out there." Steve looks throughout the jungle, trying to get a visual on anything, but comes up empty.

"Holy…-" There are a load of censored characters following that as Mockingbird dives forward in a roll to dodge the fire from the gun emplacements. "Are there Predators out there!?" she hollers towards wherever she last saw Steve as she hunkers down behind a tree trunk. She winces as she glances down at a hole in her thigh. "I'm hit!" She grabs a bandage out of one of her pouches and slaps it over the wound. Then another over the exit wound on the other side.

The vibrations of the guns whirring up to speed make Spider-Woman leap from her perch just as the weapons start firing. She yells, "INCOMING!" as she does this, and then she is in pure speechless evasion mode. She can take a punch. Bullets.. bullets can end her. So she twists and leaps and bounces off of a tree. Always leaping away just a hair's breath before her perch is destroyed.
She is busy trying to locate the sources of these bullets.. the guns and such. But to no avail at first.

"Little -" Kwabena slaps at the back of his neck. "Fuckahs, dey -" He stops inches before smacking another mosquito away, silver eyes turning to the red dots that appear upon the party, one after the other.

"Oh." While certain others make to dodge, Shift forms a smirk. "Guns."

Two dozen bullets rip right through the mutant, pelting the foliage behind him. Little tufts of smoke follow each strike, before being sucked back in cyclonic fashion to holes that seal themselves up promptly.

Shift takes off at a run, charging right into the line of fire, literally. The bullets keep passing through him, which may seem like a bit of powered showmanship, but there is strategy to Kwabena's motions.

The bullets are only leading him closer to his targets.

Opting for the one on the right, Shift tumbles over a felled tree stump, transforming briefly into black smoke mid-jump, which helps to delay his fall.

He reforms right ontop of the gun, looking to tackle it's operator. That is, if the guns are being operated by humans at all.

When Captain American yells 'get down', you get down. Sort of. Peter surrounds himself with a telekinetic forcefield which is pretty much his first instinct in any situation that doesn't involve drinks. And then he flies straight up into the foliage which serves as much better cover than being a lump on the ground. « There's people out there. Minds are shielded but not perfectly. » he broadcasts telepathically. « I'll find out how strong those shields are. » As he gets a bird's eye view, including where some of t he bullets are coming from, he adds « The people are moving, the guns are not. »

Caitlin is a good meatshield! Her first instinct is to tackle the nearest person who looks squishy. Peter's got a forcefield up, Julia's a badass with ninja reflexes, Shift's… Shift, and as much fun as it would be to tackle Steve (damnit, focus, Caitlin!) he probably has it well in hand.

Meggan is the lucky winner, then, and Caitlin leaps at the exquisite, petite blonde, putting her beefy frame between the mutant and the spray of gunfire, trying to tackle her to the ground and protect her by dint of her mighty thews.

"Lookout! Guns!" she squawks, a bit redundantly.

Meggan glances down as a red dot appears right in her cleavage. She stares at it for about half a second before Steve gives a pretty clear and unambiguious order! She throws herself forw-


There is a streak of red and a look of shock on Meggan's face. She rolls to her side. Rolls further. Clutches at her chest, gasping. But she's not blanching and going into shock, at least. While there is blood she appears to be in reasonably good shape. Must've been a graze. With Fairchild in front of her, she stages an impromptu, gasping clinic on what are probably REAL NASTY WORDS if you grew up Romani.

Meggan comes back to herself with Fairchild atop her. "They shot me," she says to Fairchild in a small, baffled voice.

Which then raises. "You SHOT me!" she shouts. Her body starts doing weird, rippling things under Caitlin, and she can see that elfin face starting to get pretty damn furious.

The machine gun fire is concentrated, mechanical precision as turns the world into a storm of dirt clods, noise, and vegetable shrapnel. Soon, what was a dense forest is being steadily converted into a small clearing as everything around the group is blown away and torn apart.

Peter's assessment, however, turns out to be correct as Shift soon discovers. When he explodes out of the vegetation to tackle the operator of the gun emplacement, he finds only a slim, state of the art turret swivelled out of the hollowed out trunk of one of the supposedly ancient Wakandan trees. It's aim is unerring as it fires multiple times at its disabler before he hits it and it goes silent, rendered inert by the sudden attack.

Meanwhile, while the one-less-than-a-dozen turrets continue to fire on the intruders, the swiftly moving minds close in ever tightening concentric circles on the freshly made clearing. Each pass takes them closer and closer to Julia's extended position until finally the machine guns whir away to find fresh targets just as a pair of statuesque warrior women burst from the branches, each barreling forward in an attempt to tackle her from her next potential perch.

"I think we're in trouble, Cap!" Mockingbird calls out, but it's likely washed out by the machine gun fire. She slowly uses the tree to help herself stand, keeping her back to the bark as she pulls out her batons and turns the taser ends on.

Cap flings his shield out into the jungle with a mighty heave in a throw that would have made Dwight Gooden blush. The shield soars off to begin caroming against a set of turrets. From there, Steve begins trudging along at high speeds, heading straight for Spider-Woman, looking to engage the women who are attacking her. He flips over a high tree stump just as the shield comes to his hand and he uses the vibranium to take a swing at one of them.

"I think you're probably right, 'Bird," he mutters. "I want every turret crushed," he orders. "We've got some new attackers to boot."

Guns are dangerous, they are very very dangerous. Spider-Woman can't stop moving. She really can't. It's only her stupidly improved reflexes that are keeping her alive today. "For the record. This isn't as much fun anymore." she mutters.
she was just turning to charge -towards- the guns when they move on to other targets, "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?" she mutters to herself then.
She snaps her hands up, psi-webs shooting forth and sticking to two of the turrets. She then plants her feet and… two women charge her. "Seriously." she mutters.. turning and pulling on the webs with all of her strength. She's trying to rip those two out of the ground and hurl them at her attackers. Really, just to slow them down so she can be ready to receive them. "We come in peace! We come in peace!" she yells out before starting once more to dodge, dip, duck, dive, and dodge again.

Priorities. Though Peter's tempted to start smashing some shields, the physical threat is the bigger one. And he doesn't like being on the defensive. He grabs hold telekinetically of one turret that he's spotted but doesn't crush it. Lifting it out of its shelter, he turns it in the direction of the attacking forces and other turrets.

Caitlin grunts at Meggan. "Sorry! Sorry! Stay down!" she orders the woman. She surges to her feet and dashes through the jungle with phenomenal speed, tearing up loam and dirt behind her. One Amazon sees her coming and tries to duck behind a tree— Caitlin slams into the ancient verdant growth with a footballer's shoulder tackle, smashing -through- the ancient hardwood like it was nothing but soft modelling balsa, and aiming to knock the Amazonian woman into the next… well, whatever the Wakandan equivalent of a county is.

Kwabena pulls a super solidified pair of fists out from the tree, leaving wreckage behind of the weapon beneath the bark. "Nice of you to tell us," The Ghanaian quips over the comm, in response to Peter's warning.

Bending down, Shift wraps his arms around the tree, the skin rapidly going supersolid in a ripple up to his chest. Then, with a heave, the tree is uprooted and thrown over Shift's exoskeleton.

Tromping footsteps precede a very dramatic heave. The tree top splits from its trunk, collapsing to the jungle floor while the trunk itself goes flying through another weaponized tree. "All of dem?" he replies to Steve, before taking off at a run toward another.

Meggan seems to disobey Caitlin, even after she gets up. She moves in a peculiar low-slung way, though, shoving herself through undergrowth raked by bullets towards one of those turrets, whereupon she will attempt to uproot the damn thing and throw it upside down. Her legs seem to be kind of differently-shaped right now.

Bobbi limps out from behind the tree and enters the fray, trying to ignore the pain in her leg as she swings the batons around to try and connect the taser ends to any assailants.

Without even a second's hesitation Caitlin's quarry dives to the side of her train-like charge, but even with her exceptional reflexes she ends up clipped, and spinning through the air to slam against yet another trunk further into the endless jungle. Before she even hits the ground, two more women, just as exceptional in build, leap from the treetops shouting a warcry in some unknown dialect. The jungle suddenly erupts in answering cries as warriors come streaming from the clearing — every single one a tall, muscled, and striking woman. Their hair tends to be in various states of shaven, with some sporting nothing more than a single braid, and others completely devoid of hair. They all bare tribal tattoos on their faces, heads, necks, and arms. Their arms vary, but most carry spears, swords, bows, or some combination of the three, with a few more exotic weapons thrown in here and there, and every one seems to be made of the same silvery metal.

The two intent on tackling Julia twist and turn, one reaching out to grab a passing branch so she can swing out of the way of the turret coming at her quickly, the other simply electing to gracefully spring over the airborne projectile and gain even more height.

Just as Cap's swing would have slammed into the one using the branch to dodge the turret, a pair of black-clad feet plummet down from above and crash into Steve's shield, deflecting the blow as the woman's savior flips back and lands crouched between Captain America and the two 'Amazonian' Wakandans who continue to pursue Julia.

The man, for he is undeniably a man (and seemingly the only one on the Wakandan side) is clad from heel to toe in a black panther suit, and his arrival draws another warycry from the warriors as they press the attack. "Peaceful visitors do not come sneaking through the jungle," the man claims in a thick accent as he slowly rises into a combat stance, "Nor do they come armed and armored."

Steve takes the weight of the two feet downward as he braces himself. His boots squish a bit in the mud as he gathers his footing and goes on counter-attack. "Your nation has taken a pilot prisoner. We don't want to fight you, but we're not being given a lot of options."

Steve explodes upwards, trying to 'push-fling' the Black Panther as far away as he can.

And Spider-Woman was not attacking these women. She was merely evading for extended periods. "Seriously, sneaking? If we were sneaking.. we were doing a piss poor job of it!" she announces. She doesn't respond to the comment about armed.
But.. she can only take so much. So as the women continue their attack, she sighs and shakes her head, "Fine!" she announces before she waits, waits, waits… and then leaps up and over the women, aiming to cause webs to form at the feet of one before she even lands.
She lands.. and her feet touch the ground for only a moment before she's leaping forward to try to tackle the -other- woman. She's still not punching or kicking, but she's fighting back at least.

Maintaining his charge, Shift pauses long enough to witness the strong women bursting from the jungle. The strong tactic would be to take control of a tree-gun and start picking off Jungle Jane's, but that would make Steve cross, not to speak of what the supposed leader might have to say of it.

So, instead, the Ghanaian keeps bashing through the jungle and disabling (more like brutally crushing) the tree guns.

He can't help but grimace at the exchange between Cap and the Black Panther. "It's like dis shit was written for a really bad comic book."


Mockingbird is tired. She's sweaty. She's dirty. She's down a pint from mosquitos and her bullet wound. She's cranky. "Listen, pal! It's not like you've published a Wakandan visitor's guide or have an airport code for us to come in any other way! There's a situation and an international incident so of course we've come prepared just in case! Clearly YOU are prepared too! Can we all just stop a sec and talk about this?" She raises her hands, with batons in them, in a surrendering sort of motion.


Caitlin stops and stares at her forearm, where an ugly, bloody line is forming. "You- you cut me! How did you cut me?" she asks the Amazon, looking flabbergasted. The woman looks a bit stunned, too— those spears are sharp enough to pass clear through a tree trunk, particularly in their mighty hands. Yet it seemed to barely hurt Caitlin.

The redhead stops at the shout, fury building in her face.

"No one makes me bleed my own blood!" she stammers.

When Steve throws The masked man up and away, he flips in mid air and executes a triple backflip into a one-armed reverse corkscrew coupled with a jackknife twist ending in consecutive torque spin. He'd have landed on the ground quite gracefully had he not come to a sudden stop in mid air as Peter grabs him with his TK. "Very pretty. You've got a job with Cirque du Soleil." he comments. He's 'standing' (more hovering really) on the branch of a tree with a forcefield surrounding him. "But if any more of my friends get hurt, I'm going to squeeze you like an orange."

Black Panther looks momentarily uncertain as he suddenly stops in mid-air. Admittedly, it's hard to tell when a man in a full bodysuit looks uncertain, but it's there for those paying attention. Quickly, however, multiple vibranium-tipped spears fly from various angles towards Peter as many of the women turn their attention towards him.

For a moment, T'Challa considers testing the telekinetic's strength against the energy absorbing properties of the vibranium-mesh that composes his suit, but ultimately he elects to bark out a sharp command in a foreign tongue. The spears and swords stop lunging and slashing, but the women maintain their points on the Avengers all the same. For the record, the turrets would have stopped firing instantly as well had any still stood after the concerted effort by Shift and the rest of the team to destroy them.

"That pilot flew over restricted Wakandan airspace on a currently unknown mission. If you are asking me to release him, you may as well save your breath."

"It seems we have you at a disadvantage, whoever you are," Steve says as he straightens; blue eyes fixed up towards the dark figure. "There needs to be a peaceful resolution here. Your issue is with the nation of Turkey, not with that pilot."

"We understand all that, but at the same time we need to make sure that no human rights protocols are breached in this case," Mockingbird blurts out. She's a former spy, she is practiced at talking people down with legal mumbo jumbo. "We just want the same answers you do, but we want to make sure they're gotten civilly."

Meggan pops up from behind a turret as it stops pivoting around, looking about alertly. "I know this is a bit odd," she addresses one of the nearby Wakandan women, "but d'you have any gauze or something?" Her skin seems kind of rugose, but that bullet graze is probably still bothering her. She also doesn't seem to have any weapons in her hands, which she pivots to demonstrate.

And… as the fighting stops, Spider-Woman rolls her neck. Then she looks back to see the others. She sees… blood on Mockingbird's leg. She narrows her eyes and turns to stalk back to Mockingbird. Anyone feels like stopping her, they are welcome to try.
But she's planning to give at least an hour-lasting web wrap that might be better than whatever cloth is currently being used as a bandage.

Caitlin waggles a finger at the Amazon menacing her when Meggan chimes in. "Also, she cut me! I need a bandage! Maybe a tetanus shot!" she calls. She scowls at the Amazon. The other woman scowls back. Grrrr….

From above, Shift is awarded a decent view. He creeps upon the edge of the overlook, peering between two trees as the two engage in their diplomatic banter.

Not good enough.

Craning his neck upward, the mutant leaps, immediately transforming into a column of smoke that climbs through the trees until it collects upon a branch high overhead. There, the mutant reforms, having found his perfect perch. Silver eyes look down upon the clearing, seeing everything that isn't hidden in the foliage beyond.

"<Do the right thing, here.>" Kwabena calls down from above in an incredibly loose version of the Wakandan language. "<For please.>"

He really hates saying 'please'. Somehow, the sentiment leaks through the language barrier.

The spear tips might be vibranium but the shafts are normal and the spears come to a halt in mid air before they swivel one eight degrees and point back the way they came. Peter lowers T'Challa till he's facing Steve, about three feet away and two feet off the ground. Then he waits for Steve to do what Steve does so well: end up recruiting the guy by smiling at him.

The woman Meggan addresses stares coldly at her, offering no words or, disappointingly, gauze. Instead she only shifts her grip on the pair of silvery short swords she wields and stares daggers at her apparently unarmed foe.

T'Challa doesn't struggle as he's levitated through the air to hover in front of Steve. He doesn't take his eyes off the Captain, in fact, clearly identifying him as some sort of leader. "An uninformed intepretation of the situation," T'Challa responds, but he doesn't seem to make any move to break free from his current position. "Since you seem unaware, however, I am T'Challa, the Black Panther and King of Wakanda, and you can not believe everything you hear on television. Our prisoner is safe and sound, though he is being questioned — humanely."

"So, can we call a truce for a bit and get some medical attention? Because my leg really hurts right now," Mockingbird asks with a grimace.

"T'Challa, I'm Steve Rogers and these are the Avengers. Some of our people are in need of medical attention," Cap looks over at Bobbi as she speaks. "I think a truce might be a good idea. I realize it might be difficult under the circumstances, but if you're willing to talk, it'd do some good." He smiles a bit, looking past T'Challa toward the mountains behind, then back to the Wakandan king. "Perhaps this /is/ a misunderstanding."

There is some small part of Kwabena that, in spite of a journey from street thug and gang banger to undead (not exactly accurate but easily mistaken) Avenger, still finds some boyish awe of being in the presence of a Wakandan King. Not that he'll show it on his face. He's scowling up there, but he's silent and unmoving. That's the clue.

He remains at his sentry post until such a cease fire is codified in some manner.

"Okay, Mockingbird, hold still." says Spider-Woman as she approaches the other woman. A woman she kinda thinks of as a mentor. "Okay folks. I can give some temporary band-aid help." she says to her team. And she begins spinning psi-webbing… aiming it to wrap about Mockingbird's leg tightly enough to apply pressure to the wound. Both wounds.
She will do the same for any others who desire it. "Now, this stuff only lasts an hour, but it might give you enough time to get it handled -properly-…" she states.

Oooo. Peter hasn't even got himself a queen yet and here he's caught himself a King. « His mind is strongly shielded. » he informs the Avengers. « I could probably break his shields but it wouldn't be quick. » Strength is his forte not finesse. Jean might be able to sneak in, he's limited to brute force. Since it seems called for given Steve's words and tone, he sets T'Challa down and releases his hold on him. « I've let him go. » So play the goodwill card or just kill him before he gets away.

T'Challa lands gracefully when he's released and casts a quick glance over the Avengers. For half a beat, he stands silent and unmoving before he finally releases a burst of words in a strange Wakandan dialect. The women lower their weapons and retreat back into the jungle, but their minds are still present, and sharp eyes will spot them still lurking amongst the foliage.

"You are to be my guests, then, if only to keep an eye on you. Your hurts will be tended to. The Dora Milaje will be your guide to the palace," he claims, before he turns and sprints into the dense jungle at a breakneck pace, quickly disappearing into the darkness deeper within. Even as he leaves, a woman steps out and grunts once before turning and striding off at a much slower and easier to follow pace, clearly their so called guide to Wakanda.

Fairchild grumbles and falls into step along with the others, moving along into the armed escort into the heart of Wakandan territory. She eyes the Amazons balefully— refusing to use that word, because she knows REAL Amazons— and keeps up for the first mile, just fine.

The leggy redhead abandons a path of weak loam and roots that won't bear her weight and ducks down into a smaller ravine, between two rune-carved boulders. She can't have been gone from sight for more than a few seconds…

…but when she scrambles back up, she finds herself standing in a somehow even more alien looking part of the Jungle. It's abruptly much cooler out. The jungle seems wilder, younger. No Dora Milaje, no Avengers, no T'challa. No cell signal on her sat phone, which she examines nervously.

"Uhh…. guys? Little help?" she calls, to absolutely no avail.

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