8628/Panthera

Panthera
Date of Scene:	10 November 2021
Location:	Wakandan Embassy
Synopsis:	T'Challa and Tara catch up on current events, and she seeks to give him some advice.
Cast of Characters:	T'Challa, Tara Tsabedze

---

T'Challa has posed:
"I will see her now. Please send her in." Rather than using an intercom system, T'Challa communicates with a member of his security team, the Dora Milaje, through the use of his Kimoyo beads. He had a request for a visitor the next time he was around and available, and today is the day.

He is seated in an office area with a fancy desk and chair for him, other sitting chairs for visitors. His attire is kingly, Wakandan traditional, though a business suit of more American style can be seen nearby, on a mannequin.

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Offering a nod to the Dora Milaje that makes the announcement, Tara stands herself up to her full height and follows the woman to T'Challa's office. She is dressed in a dashiki of deep purple with contrasting colors of yellow and blue forming the intricate pattern on the front, and with is a matching kaba. Her feet are encased in a pair of black leather sandals that have been adorned with beads and gems.

Upon first entering the room she offers a deeep bow to T'Challa, then stands straight with a broad smile on her face. "It is good to see you, your Majesty," she offers with a soft, light tone that matches the words offered.

T'Challa has posed:
T'Challa rises, and he inclines his head in acknowledgment of the bow. "Miss Tsabedze. It has been some time. I had figured you were still back home, so it was a surprise and a pleasure to receive your message. Please, be seated." He leaves the desk area to take up a spot in the chair opposite hers. Both are comfortably cushioned and upholstered, with tribal markings etched into the wooden frame.

"What have you been keeping yourself busy with?" he queries, and while the question itself is easily taken as something asked as a matter of course, he appears genuinely interested.

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Tara's smile remains broad and big as she moves to the chair, setting into it sort of sideways so that her tail isn't pinned behind her... her tail really hates being pinned down.

"I have been in New York for a bit now," she offers, setting her hands into her lap. Unlike most females of the world, she carries no purse or pack, she sees no need for such things. "I check in with the Paka ya Mwezi daily of course, in case there is something required of me. My ability to get back to them in a matter of seconds allows me to travel and be else where, and of course the requirements from Bast that I aid all those that I can keeps me away."

She crosses one leg over the other, then smooths the kaba out. "Having been here for a time now, and met a few... like minded people, I am convinced this is where Bast wishes me to be," she explains. "When She is ready for me to be else where, She will compel me to move on. So for the time being I am working as a healer for the Happy Harbor High School, aiding the mutants of Bushwick, and have discovered a group of mystical types who work together to against the darker magical aspects of the world."

T'Challa has posed:
"Ah, have you? And this is the first I have heard of it," T'Challa replies to the news of her having been around the city. Evidence, if nothing else, that he has not been keeping tabs on her, has not been spying on her.

He continues. "These sound like worthy reasons to venture forth into the world and find your place in it. Before I had the responsibilities of a King, when I studied elsewhere, it afforded me the opportunity to see different parts of the world in my spare time. It is a valuable thing, the knowledge one can gain from experiencing different cultures and people."

Then his head inclines to one side, hinting at curiosity. "The school, I am aware of. It is meant to be kept quiet about, but I understand some of the students there have unique talents."

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Tara offers him a nod as she watches his face, mostly his eyes, and reads the language of his body. It is not an action done as a predator, but instead is instinct born from knowing you can learn as much from these things as you can from words spoken.

"There are a large number of students with special abilities," she offers softly. "I do not think it is so much a secret any more however, as Ms MacIntyre made an announcement awhile back about it. There are several students who are obvious mutants in their appearance, as well as teacher who is an obvious alien. It is a place where these children and human children may learn together, which is a much needed thing if you ask me."

T'Challa has posed:
As she might expect, his composure and calm is near-absolute. It must take much to get T'Challa off his game, whatever game that may be, even when there is no apparent game at all. He has learned the fine art of revealing little to nothing unless he wishes it to be so, and he steeples his fingers before himself.

"That, I must have missed in the news or wherever she mentioned it," he acknowledges. "It does make some things simpler, but at the same time it makes other things more complicated. That said, it cannot have been easy to keep secrets like that for very long. It sounds as if they have people watching out for their safety."

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
The smile on Tara's face turns a touch mischievous as she says, "Oh yes, numerous people. Mr. J'onnz alone would likely handle anyone who dared threaten the children, but each of our teachers has an ace up their sleeve."

The smile returns to more gentle, the end of her tail flicking as the only indication of the mischievousness that was just there. "May I ask you a question that may be perhaps... a bit personal, but is something that I have been curious about since meeting you?"

T'Challa has posed:
Naturally, the eyes of the Black Panther, T'Challa, shift toward the motion of the tail even as he replies to her. "Ah, yes. I know him. Not well, but I know him. I am trying to recall if Shuri has mentioned this school to me before or not. I cannot imagine she had any interest in actually following the rules of one." This, he absolutely says with a knowing shake of the head and a light smile, then he turns more serious.

"That all depends on the question, hmm?" the King replies. "So you may ask it, but I cannot promise you will receive an answer."

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
She offers a nod before shifting slightly in the chair again, her tail needs just a little more space. The moment she does the appendix flicks and thumps against the chair, the protest at having been to confined. Clearly she is accustomed to this, merely adjusting herself or shifting to allow for an angry tail.

"I have only met you twice," Tara begins softly. "And both times you have been the perfect model of a King. I wonder though, do you not tired of always being King T'Challa? Would you rather not have times that you can just be T'Challa?"

T'Challa has posed:
This question brings about a thoughtful expression out of said King. "My entire life has been spent preparing me for the responsibility of being what I am. You are beginning to sound like my sister with a question like that. If you are asking whether I know how to have fun or not, I assure you I do. I was the life of the party at Oxford."

Which brings to mind two questions, perhaps. First, is T'Challa being honest with that, and second, how dull must those parties have been?

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
One brow lifts at the mention of his sister. Tara remembered that he referred to her one other time as well, but as of yet she knew nothing more than he had a sister. Leaning back a little, the end of her tail starts to swipe side to side, as her right ear turns lightly, hearing something in another part of the building.

"Actually, I assumed you knew how to have fun," she comments as her grin goes broad, revealing her longer canines. "Of course you were raised to be who you are, just as I was raised to be the Kivuli, but I am not always prim and proper, I am not always the Kivuli."

There is a slight sparkle to her eyes now as she looks him over again. "The mask you wear while sitting there is as obvious as the clothing on your body, the paintings on the walls, the comfort of your chairs. You are the King of Wakanda, there is no mistaking you for anything else, but do you know how to /not/ be the King and relax? Can you enjoy a friendship without the masquerade... or are you truly the image you present?"

T'Challa has posed:
T'Challa adjusts his weight and position in the chair. He lacks the tail she does, to give away some of her mood, if the looks of mischief in her face and eyes wasn't already giving it away. He doubles down on the stoicism, resting his hands in his lap, acting as if he is quite unflappable in contrast.

Talk of masks, of fronts, he doesn't take the bait, if in fact it is bait she is laying out for him. He does, however, respond to all of that with a simple question of his own. "What is it you are suggesting?" She is leading toward something. May as well give her the chance to say it. There is enough of a tilt to his head to indicate the curiosity. He could always guess, but best to let her have her chance.

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
For a moment Tara looks a bit surprised. She hadn't been meaning to suggest anything, she was truly curious if he was all business all the time, or of he had a social life beyond the Dora Milaje and this sister of his. Again her eyes sparkle though, to be caught off guard apparently tickles her fancy, or perhaps there is still mischief in the feline.

"I have no suggestion, Majesty," she emphasizes that word as she folds her hands back into her lap. "I was merely asking a question regarding your life, as I said before a bit personal, and you are welcome to continue with the mask. I admit, I worry. Bast worries. She is not merely the Goddess of protectors, She is also the defender of Kings, the Goddess of pleasure and the bringer of good health."

Reaching up she flips a few of her braids back over her shoulder as she tilts her head very slightly. Her tail has not stopped, though the swishing back and forth had slowed. "Forgive me if I have become too personal, Majesty," she finally offers. "I sometimes forget that Bast is not the center of the world."

T'Challa has posed:
T'Challa waves a hand, excusing at least some of the apology that's offered. "It is no matter, but in ways you are correct. There has been much on my mind lately with my responsibilities to Wakanda and my people, and the place we are soon to occupy in the world once I share the truth with everyone. These are not easy times. Any decision I make, any way I act, I cannot know which way things will go afterward. I must put my trust in Bast that it will bring more good than bad."

Brown eyes wander the room, pausing on this trinket, that bauble, a large painting, a tapestry. It speaks of opulence, if not the sort that's shoved in one's face. "It would not be a bad thing to find distractions for a time," he admits.

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Scooting forward Tara stands, a fluid and graceful motion that reveals more about her in a simple action than most might get. Grace, agility, comfort in who and what she was, all present as she starts a very slow meandering walk to look at the items in her room. That he is a king does not seem to matter at that moment, as she has already down graded him to just another person in need of a friend.

"No one person can place the weight of the world on their shoulders," she says softly, looking over a trinket and wondering it's purpose. "You shoulder it all, perhaps sharing with your most trusted advisors, but you do not share enough."

Moving again, she looks up at a painting, wondering it's importance or if it is merely decoration for the office. "You say that a distraction would not be a bad thing, as if you are not permitted, at any time you would like, to remove the crown and be distracted. How long it been like this for you? That you have had to be the king without any friends, only subject who answer your beck and call?"

T'Challa has posed:
T'Challa remains seated while Tara, the cross between panther and person in ways that go beyond his own, wanders the room and has her fill of things to be seen. He spends most of this time staying quiet, with his thoughts, some troublesome, some merely inconvenient.

"Being King is not the kind of job where you clock out, go home, and lie on the couch watching American football all day long. Does the President of the United States have time off? Very little. But this is what I was born into. It is for me to bear, because I can and because I must." That is a tough nut to crack open, getting past the durable outer shell of responsibility and duty.

It is not impossible, though. "That is not to say I cannot enjoy a dinner, or a game, or a play. And there are a number of good men and women I am glad to call friend."

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Moving on from that painting to the next, Tara's tail flicks behind her as she looks at the various items. Perhaps it is the feline, the curiosity of the cat that leads to her need to look around, or perhaps there is something more to the reason she does it.

She pauses and looks at him, one brow raised and flick of the tip of her left ear. "Friends, or acquaintances?" She asks bluntly, though her tone is still soft. "Are these people you can invite to a dinner or a play, or more the sort that you know, and work with in other ways? There is a difference you see, between a real friend and just someone you know well enough."

T'Challa has posed:
There comes an exasperated sigh of some kind from T'Challa, before he can contain it. "Bast grant me patience," he mutters, shaking his head. A funny thing to say when standing before him is someone who is essentially an avatar for Bast. "You are beginning to sound more like my sister. Are you certain the two of you have not met?" It could be a cutting, scathing thing to accuse, but there is just enough of a gleam in his eyes to suggest otherwise.

He holds up his hands, then. "They are friends, acquaintances, and teammates. We have even decorated the traditional American Christmas tree together, as little as it meant to me, but the concept of gift-giving was appreciated by all. The point is, I can unwind!"

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Turning her body to look at him, Tara claps her hands lightly together once as she says, "Wonderful!" Then starts walking back to the chair.

"I have never met your sister, I do not even know her name, but clearly is a very wise person," if offered with a huge, almost shit eating grin on her face, and then she pauses before sitting to take one step toward him and taps him very lightly on the head. "Patience granted."

Now she returns to the chair and sits down. "You need more friends," she states bluntly. "So I am now your friend. If you wish to get dinner, take in a movie or a play, you should call and we will do so. You know," she looks left, then right, that mischievous sparkle returning to her eyes. "We could even get coffee, gasp!" She mockingly covers her mouth with her hand as if she stated the ultimate sin as she adds, "With... donuts."

T'Challa has posed:
"Her name is Shuri, and you do not need to be meeting her any time soon," T'Challa insists, knowing full well that if it were to happen, they would immediately begin conspiring against him. His sister already does that, and an accomplice would only make it worse.

"So I..what?" He is interrupted by the tap, causing him to eye her for a few seconds before he merely shakes his head. "Those are all things that could be done, though I would not recommend the powdered donuts if I am in my suit. The powder gets everywhere."

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Tara eyes shift to the American power suit there, her nose wrinkling up. "If you mean that thing," she expresses. "Fancy and attractive though you would be in it, you do not get coffee in it."

She looks back to him with a smile, "Coffee and donuts is a more casual thing, wear sweats, be comfortable. I always am, if I have to wear something fancy for too long, my tail itches."

T'Challa has posed:
"I did not," T'Challa answers, giving rise to the image of him as the Black Panther, chilling with drinks and snacks. Pushing to his feet, he leaves the chair and walks back around toward his side of the desk. "Sweats," he sniffs, amused by the thought. "Was there anything else on your mind that you wished to discuss while you are here?" The man is still acting more like the King than he isn't.

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Rising as he does, Tara turns to face him at his desk. It was a lovely images, the King of Wakanda, but it still worried her.

"No Majesty," she replies. "I merely was curious how you were doing, and how things with Wakanda were going. And to remind you that if you ever have need of me, you have only to call. You are among those of the most important that I serve after all."

T'Challa has posed:
"Perhaps next week I will schedule time to have fun," T'Challa says, loading it up with a mixture of teasing and sarcasm both. "But, I am growing closer to being ready to take further steps with the future of Wakanda and the world. And there is a calendar due out soon you might want to keep an eye out for." That, is all he says about it.

Tara Tsabedze has posed:
Offering another deep bow, Tara straightens herself with a playful smile on her face.

"I will look forward to hearing from you, T'Challa," she says with a tone that is as playful as her smile. "And I will keep my eyes open for this calendar you refer to. One can never have too many calendars."

Turning she walks to the door but pauses there a moment, "I will leave you to your important business Majesty, just remember... I am at your call." Then with another slight bow, she exists his office, her tail flicking behind her like it has a mind of it's own, and really... it does.