Great Rift: Storming The Castle
Jul. 19th, 2007 09:25 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsT'Challa, Nathan, Ororo and Angelo hit Moses's base of operations.
The house was even more impressive up-close, although T'Challa had started to swear darkly under his breath as they'd gotten a good look at it. Nathan got the strong impression that the Wakandan king was somehow personally offended that he hadn't known that it was here, however a remote corner of his country it occupied. Nathan eyed the mansion, focusing on the numerous vehicles parked in the half-circle driveway. They were still atop the ridge where they'd stop to let him scout, although T'Challa and Angelo were already on the move, heading down closer to the house.
He and Ororo would be able to get down there much more quickly when the time came, after all. Nathan glanced sideways at the silver-haired woman beside him.
"Shall we have at it?" he asked with a brief twist of his lips that might have been a smile. "I'll levitate them, you start zapping?" They'd talked about how best to do this. It was easier for Ororo to take out the cars if the weren't on the ground, and made for less chance of accidentally electrocuting someone with sky-to-ground lightning. They just hadn't expected that many of them.
"I am ready when you are," came the response as Ororo's eyes frosted over. The element of surprise would certainly end when the cars began floating and the lightning lancing down, but on the upside it would provide plenty of distraction for T'Challa and Angelo's approach. "Let us start with the ones at the end of the driveway - with any luck we can clog the exits quickly."
"Trap them in the house. Excellent thought." The cars at the end of the driveway flung themselves into the air, without so much as a gesture from Nathan. "I do so love it when the job involves property damage..."
With a crack and a resounding boom the sky split and threw down bolts of lightning into the cars, which made very funny sounds as the electricity crackled through them. "You are a true guerrilla, Nathan," Ororo remarked, sounding almost amused. "Just try not to beat your chest too much."
--
A number of Moses's men had retreated to the house's garages, where the few vehicles that had escaped Nathan and Ororo's earlier efforts could be found. T'Challa seemed determined not to let them escape, pursuing them doggedly and sailing right into their midst, moving with unnatural speed.
Angelo didn't have the same talents as T'Challa, but he was as fast on his feet as the next man without those mutant gifts, and had just as much determination. He was stalking the would-be escapees grimly, listening for any sign of ambush.
T'Challa slammed one man down onto the hood of one of the cars, knocking him out with a carefully placed blow. He turned, eyes narrowing - and then threw himself at Angelo, knocking the younger man to the ground as there was a sudden burst of gunfire in the silence.
...all right, so someone out there was very good at being silent until their moment came. Angelo suspected he'd have bruises from that impact - but he could hardly complain that T'Challa had saved his life. "Where are they?" he muttered to the older man.
T'Challa didn't move for a moment. His breathing was harsh, and as he got off Angelo, pulling the X-Man with him to the cover provided by one of the vehicles, the spreading dark stain on his side was obvious even in the dimness. "Left," he said after a moment of listening. "Behind the Land Rover. Two of them. One gun is jammed."
They had cover, and Angelo could see the blood on his shirt, but they still had two men to take down before they'd have the leisure to deal with that. As long as T'Challa wasn't about to collapse, and if he did... Angelo would deal. "Right. Two men, one gun, an' they'll probably be expectin' us to retreat after that."
"Go right - I will go left. I have a better chance of dodging," T'Challa said, and waited only for Angelo's nod before he moved, not appreciably slowed down by the bullet wound.
Angelo ran right, heading for cover - and then, more slowly, aiming for stealth and going unnoticed, started circling back towards the Land Rover.
T'Challa got there first, of course, charging the man on the left, who was nearly his size, even if he didn't have T'Challa's mutant strength. They grappled for a moment or two, however, and he wasn't the one with the functioning gun.
The other of the two men very clearly knew this, and raised his gun, intention plain. Angelo was almost there, almost... close enough. A strand of skin shot out, wrenching the gun up to point at the ceiling.
The first of the men taken care of, T'Challa stepped forward and knocked out the other while his attention was focused on Angelo and the loss of his weapon. As the second man fell, he was already turning, his attention drawn by noise elsewhere in the garage.
Whoever it was, didn't have a gun. Didn't need a gun. Angelo found himself being tackled yet again as a white wave of energy came at them.
Part of him - a small part - wished T'Challa would stop doing that. On the other hand, given that his super-strong companion was now out cold and he wasn't, it was only a small part. And compared to the gunfire, that energy wave had come from a very clear direction. Taking a moment only to make sure T'Challa was still breathing and likely to stay that way, he started to run towards its source, keeping low and behind the cars.
It didn't take long to spot the energy-projector - a small, weasely-looking man who was hiding behind one of the other vehicles, peering around warily for another target. Angelo had apparently managed to stay out of sight as he moved, however, as the man didn't focus on him.
Angelo was easily a physical match for this one, and when you threw in his physical powers... all he had to do was get in range to use them without being blasted first. Slowly, carefully, he crept closer. Finally, when he'd got within six feet still unnoticed, he stopped pushing his luck and proceeded to grab the man off his feet with two "handfuls" of skin, and slam him head-first into the car he'd been using for shelter.
The man did get off one more blast - but it went wild, at the ceiling. The impact of it left a spiderweb of cracks in the plaster, dust showering down on the two of them. Before he could try again, he was quite comprehensively unconscious.
Angelo had ducked instinctively at the blast to the ceiling but he straightened almost immediately, coughing on plaster dust, and ran back to where he'd left T'Challa.
Who was where he'd left him, and only just now starting to stir. Given what that one wild blast had done to the ceiling, it was something of a miracle that he was moving, at all, and a testament to the enhanced durability his powers had given him.
Angelo dropped hastily to his knees next to the bigger man, already reaching to pull his shirt aside and look at the bullet wound. "Keep still. An' quiet", he added, not sure who might be brought by the noise the energy projector had made.
T'Challa just grunted, letting him check the bullet wound. The focus returned to his dark eyes, and he got that listening look again, as if he was somehow turning his enhanced senses up to check their surroundings. "... I think it is clear," he rumbled - as the walls of the house suddenly shook. "That is coming from elsewhere."
Angelo blinked, several possibilities occuring to him. "We need to get going, now."
--
Son of a bitch, Nathan thought, as well as several even more profane comments in Askani as a concussive blast smashed through the wall beside him. He threw up a shield, but dove back around the corner anyway; new types of projected energy were sometimes a little dicey, shield-wise. #Cable here,# he projected over the switchboard. #I think I'm down the hall from Moses.# While he waited for the response, he reached out telepathically - and met surprisingly good shields. Moses had clearly had some training. No wonder he'd had to rely on scanning some of his men to find the bastard.
Where are you? he heard T'Challa think, and Nathan flashed the man the image of the route to his current location. I'll be there shortly.
It seemed Moses was not about to wait for Nathan to come to him, nor was he intending to flee; instead, footsteps sounded in the hallway as he strode towards the room Nathan had disappeared into. Several more blasts preceded him into the room, clearing the way as he angled himself into the doorway to peer inside.
One of the blasts had slammed into Nathan's shield, and while it held, the impact was still enough to send him sprawling. Reminds me of Scott, he thought a bit dazedly, shaking his head to clear it and concentrating, mustering a sledgehammer blow of telekinesis to slam into the figure in the doorway.
Staggering back, Moses gave a curse, righting himself with a hand against the wall and pushing himself upright again. He was a tall, broad man, much like T'Challa, but where the other man moved with grace and a noble bearing, Moses lumbered like a bear. He was obviously a man used to leading, though it was just as obvious that he did so through bullying and intimidation, not by inspiring loyalty.
"So," he said in a voice that bore barely any native accent at all, "T'Challa now has outsiders working for him. I see still hasn't learned to forget his little grudge and leave well enough alone." He looked almost amused, though his expression darkened the longer he looked at Nate. "This time he's gone too far."
Nathan rose, a little push of telekinesis helping him up off the ground. "Tough talk from a man who sends his people out to shoot innocent villagers," he said, his shields glowing gold around him as he poured more power into them.. He was not one for talking in the midst of a fight, generally, but he could sense T'Challa approaching at speed, and if he could distract the man... Hit me, you son of a bitch - go right ahead.
"I sent him a message. It looks like he didn't understand it," Moses growled. Still half-in the doorway, he once again raised his hands, fingertips outstretched... but did not aim at Nate. Instead, he continued the arc until his hands were pointing at the ceiling, and let go with several blasts that pounded the plaster into chunks that began to rain down on the other man's shields.
Plaster? He's trying to take me out with plaster? Nathan very nearly laughed. Instead, he reached out and yanked Moses farther into the room and off his feet. It was a carefully calculated move. T'Challa was just at the end of the hall...
T'Challa came through the door, moving almost so fast he blurred, just as Moses got to his feet. He slammed into the other man from behind, not holding back for an instant.
The big man went down, and as he impacted he twisted to send several blasts at the newest arrival with one hand while still firing at the ceiling with the other. A web of cracked plaster began to spread, revealing several sturdy wooden beams cris-crossing the area above them. Beams which were looking less sturdy by the second as the concussive energy blasts gnawed away at them.
#T'Challa, the roof's going,# Nathan sent sharply, as the other man landed two solid blows to Moses's face. Not enough to knock him out, however, and Nathan rushed in, intending to help.
With the two opponents to worry about, Moses was forced to stop his pounding of the ceiling. He struggled to rebuff T'Challa, and as Nathan approached he redoubled his efforts, pulling both hands in to his chest and waiting for the two men to come closer before releasing another burst of energy that radiated out around him wildly.
It flung them both backwards, T'Challa into the hall and Nathan into the wall on the other side of the room. T'Challa, with his enhanced durability, was the first to stagger back to his feet, letting out a roar of what sounded like pure fury and charging Moses before the other man could react.
The fight denigrated from a focused powers altercation into a brawl -the two men were in such close quarters that it was all they could do to swing and tussle with one another. Moses was only as strong as a normal man, but he was big and very, very angry. Slamming against the wall, he tried to wrest free of T'Challa's grip, forgetting about Nathan's presence in the face of his rage.
For a minute or two, it didn't matter that he'd forgotten; Nathan was slow to get up, having hit the wall hard. But he braced himself against the offending wall as he straightened, waiting for a chance, some opening. One didn't present itself immediately. T'Challa was pressing the attack, tangled up with the other man, and Nathan swore. #Damn it, T'Challa, get out of the way!#
Even as he projected the thought, Moses landed a hard blow to the ribs Nathan had seen the Wakandan favoring, and T'Challa staggered, doubling over. Nathan immediately lashed out, flinging Moses at the oppposite wall of the room.
He hit with a thud and slid to the floor, inert. He made no move to get up, and upon further examination, seemed to be unconscious.
"Thank you," T'Challa wheezed, trying to straighten.
"Hand to hand with an energy projector," Nathan snapped at him, more than a little shaky himself. "Really smart. Oxford should take back your degree, or at least-"
He didn't get to finish the rest of the sentence. Nathan felt the thoughts of the unconscious - not right out, damn it! - Moses shift, suddenly and unpredictably, and then the man was aiming a hand at the ceiling above his and T'Challa's heads.
BOOM!
The ceiling collapsed instantly under the impact of the concussive blast. Debris didn't just rain down on the two men, it cascaded.
There was now a very large hole where the ceiling had been - large enough for a certain weatherworker to swoop inside just as Moses pushed himself to his feet to finish the job the rubble had started. A quick survey of the room showed Ororo the situation clearly enough, and she immediately turned her attention to neutralizing the angry mutant even as she pushed aside her worry for Nate and T'Challa.
Quickest was easiest in this case, and minimizing property damage obviously wasn't a concern at that point. A sudden gust of wind slammed Moses back into the wall he had just crawled up from, and in case that wasn't enough to knock the man out, a lightning strike to the piecemeal ceiling above caused several large chunks to fall directly onto him.
He fell, and this time, stayed down. Part of the debris heaved and T'Challa emerged, looking a bit dazed, but largely intact. He saw Moses prone on the ground, and coughed, trying to clear his lungs of the dust.
"That is the second time that-" The profanity was in some Wakandan dialect, but sounded absolutely foul, "-has dropped a house on me."
The debris heaved in another spot, and started to slide off a glowing golden telekinetic shield. "We were doing fine," Nathan insisted, coughing as well.
"You were buried under half the roof!" Ororo exclaimed, not even bothering to hide the relief in her voice as both men emerged from the rubble. "That is hardly the definition of 'fine' as I have heard it said."
Nathan gave T'Challa a look that could only be described as long-suffering. "She tends to fuss," he said.
"Mmm," T'Challa said, casting a dark look at Moses and a slightly wary one at Ororo.
She scowled back at him with an expression that clearly said: There is still half a roof left. Keep your mouth shut unless you want it around your ears too. "I am going to check on the smugglers outside," she said then, crossing over a cracked beam with a deliberate step. "Will you two be able to keep an eye on Moses until reinforcements come?"
"I think we can manage," Nathan said, already kneeling down beside the unconscious man. "Going to be a slightly unethical telepath here and make sure he stays unconscious for the next twelve hours or so..." He looked up and at both T'Challa and Ororo in turn, as if to make sure they were okay, and his lips twitched slightly in what might have been a relieved smile before he turned his attention back to Moses.
The house was even more impressive up-close, although T'Challa had started to swear darkly under his breath as they'd gotten a good look at it. Nathan got the strong impression that the Wakandan king was somehow personally offended that he hadn't known that it was here, however a remote corner of his country it occupied. Nathan eyed the mansion, focusing on the numerous vehicles parked in the half-circle driveway. They were still atop the ridge where they'd stop to let him scout, although T'Challa and Angelo were already on the move, heading down closer to the house.
He and Ororo would be able to get down there much more quickly when the time came, after all. Nathan glanced sideways at the silver-haired woman beside him.
"Shall we have at it?" he asked with a brief twist of his lips that might have been a smile. "I'll levitate them, you start zapping?" They'd talked about how best to do this. It was easier for Ororo to take out the cars if the weren't on the ground, and made for less chance of accidentally electrocuting someone with sky-to-ground lightning. They just hadn't expected that many of them.
"I am ready when you are," came the response as Ororo's eyes frosted over. The element of surprise would certainly end when the cars began floating and the lightning lancing down, but on the upside it would provide plenty of distraction for T'Challa and Angelo's approach. "Let us start with the ones at the end of the driveway - with any luck we can clog the exits quickly."
"Trap them in the house. Excellent thought." The cars at the end of the driveway flung themselves into the air, without so much as a gesture from Nathan. "I do so love it when the job involves property damage..."
With a crack and a resounding boom the sky split and threw down bolts of lightning into the cars, which made very funny sounds as the electricity crackled through them. "You are a true guerrilla, Nathan," Ororo remarked, sounding almost amused. "Just try not to beat your chest too much."
--
A number of Moses's men had retreated to the house's garages, where the few vehicles that had escaped Nathan and Ororo's earlier efforts could be found. T'Challa seemed determined not to let them escape, pursuing them doggedly and sailing right into their midst, moving with unnatural speed.
Angelo didn't have the same talents as T'Challa, but he was as fast on his feet as the next man without those mutant gifts, and had just as much determination. He was stalking the would-be escapees grimly, listening for any sign of ambush.
T'Challa slammed one man down onto the hood of one of the cars, knocking him out with a carefully placed blow. He turned, eyes narrowing - and then threw himself at Angelo, knocking the younger man to the ground as there was a sudden burst of gunfire in the silence.
...all right, so someone out there was very good at being silent until their moment came. Angelo suspected he'd have bruises from that impact - but he could hardly complain that T'Challa had saved his life. "Where are they?" he muttered to the older man.
T'Challa didn't move for a moment. His breathing was harsh, and as he got off Angelo, pulling the X-Man with him to the cover provided by one of the vehicles, the spreading dark stain on his side was obvious even in the dimness. "Left," he said after a moment of listening. "Behind the Land Rover. Two of them. One gun is jammed."
They had cover, and Angelo could see the blood on his shirt, but they still had two men to take down before they'd have the leisure to deal with that. As long as T'Challa wasn't about to collapse, and if he did... Angelo would deal. "Right. Two men, one gun, an' they'll probably be expectin' us to retreat after that."
"Go right - I will go left. I have a better chance of dodging," T'Challa said, and waited only for Angelo's nod before he moved, not appreciably slowed down by the bullet wound.
Angelo ran right, heading for cover - and then, more slowly, aiming for stealth and going unnoticed, started circling back towards the Land Rover.
T'Challa got there first, of course, charging the man on the left, who was nearly his size, even if he didn't have T'Challa's mutant strength. They grappled for a moment or two, however, and he wasn't the one with the functioning gun.
The other of the two men very clearly knew this, and raised his gun, intention plain. Angelo was almost there, almost... close enough. A strand of skin shot out, wrenching the gun up to point at the ceiling.
The first of the men taken care of, T'Challa stepped forward and knocked out the other while his attention was focused on Angelo and the loss of his weapon. As the second man fell, he was already turning, his attention drawn by noise elsewhere in the garage.
Whoever it was, didn't have a gun. Didn't need a gun. Angelo found himself being tackled yet again as a white wave of energy came at them.
Part of him - a small part - wished T'Challa would stop doing that. On the other hand, given that his super-strong companion was now out cold and he wasn't, it was only a small part. And compared to the gunfire, that energy wave had come from a very clear direction. Taking a moment only to make sure T'Challa was still breathing and likely to stay that way, he started to run towards its source, keeping low and behind the cars.
It didn't take long to spot the energy-projector - a small, weasely-looking man who was hiding behind one of the other vehicles, peering around warily for another target. Angelo had apparently managed to stay out of sight as he moved, however, as the man didn't focus on him.
Angelo was easily a physical match for this one, and when you threw in his physical powers... all he had to do was get in range to use them without being blasted first. Slowly, carefully, he crept closer. Finally, when he'd got within six feet still unnoticed, he stopped pushing his luck and proceeded to grab the man off his feet with two "handfuls" of skin, and slam him head-first into the car he'd been using for shelter.
The man did get off one more blast - but it went wild, at the ceiling. The impact of it left a spiderweb of cracks in the plaster, dust showering down on the two of them. Before he could try again, he was quite comprehensively unconscious.
Angelo had ducked instinctively at the blast to the ceiling but he straightened almost immediately, coughing on plaster dust, and ran back to where he'd left T'Challa.
Who was where he'd left him, and only just now starting to stir. Given what that one wild blast had done to the ceiling, it was something of a miracle that he was moving, at all, and a testament to the enhanced durability his powers had given him.
Angelo dropped hastily to his knees next to the bigger man, already reaching to pull his shirt aside and look at the bullet wound. "Keep still. An' quiet", he added, not sure who might be brought by the noise the energy projector had made.
T'Challa just grunted, letting him check the bullet wound. The focus returned to his dark eyes, and he got that listening look again, as if he was somehow turning his enhanced senses up to check their surroundings. "... I think it is clear," he rumbled - as the walls of the house suddenly shook. "That is coming from elsewhere."
Angelo blinked, several possibilities occuring to him. "We need to get going, now."
--
Son of a bitch, Nathan thought, as well as several even more profane comments in Askani as a concussive blast smashed through the wall beside him. He threw up a shield, but dove back around the corner anyway; new types of projected energy were sometimes a little dicey, shield-wise. #Cable here,# he projected over the switchboard. #I think I'm down the hall from Moses.# While he waited for the response, he reached out telepathically - and met surprisingly good shields. Moses had clearly had some training. No wonder he'd had to rely on scanning some of his men to find the bastard.
Where are you? he heard T'Challa think, and Nathan flashed the man the image of the route to his current location. I'll be there shortly.
It seemed Moses was not about to wait for Nathan to come to him, nor was he intending to flee; instead, footsteps sounded in the hallway as he strode towards the room Nathan had disappeared into. Several more blasts preceded him into the room, clearing the way as he angled himself into the doorway to peer inside.
One of the blasts had slammed into Nathan's shield, and while it held, the impact was still enough to send him sprawling. Reminds me of Scott, he thought a bit dazedly, shaking his head to clear it and concentrating, mustering a sledgehammer blow of telekinesis to slam into the figure in the doorway.
Staggering back, Moses gave a curse, righting himself with a hand against the wall and pushing himself upright again. He was a tall, broad man, much like T'Challa, but where the other man moved with grace and a noble bearing, Moses lumbered like a bear. He was obviously a man used to leading, though it was just as obvious that he did so through bullying and intimidation, not by inspiring loyalty.
"So," he said in a voice that bore barely any native accent at all, "T'Challa now has outsiders working for him. I see still hasn't learned to forget his little grudge and leave well enough alone." He looked almost amused, though his expression darkened the longer he looked at Nate. "This time he's gone too far."
Nathan rose, a little push of telekinesis helping him up off the ground. "Tough talk from a man who sends his people out to shoot innocent villagers," he said, his shields glowing gold around him as he poured more power into them.. He was not one for talking in the midst of a fight, generally, but he could sense T'Challa approaching at speed, and if he could distract the man... Hit me, you son of a bitch - go right ahead.
"I sent him a message. It looks like he didn't understand it," Moses growled. Still half-in the doorway, he once again raised his hands, fingertips outstretched... but did not aim at Nate. Instead, he continued the arc until his hands were pointing at the ceiling, and let go with several blasts that pounded the plaster into chunks that began to rain down on the other man's shields.
Plaster? He's trying to take me out with plaster? Nathan very nearly laughed. Instead, he reached out and yanked Moses farther into the room and off his feet. It was a carefully calculated move. T'Challa was just at the end of the hall...
T'Challa came through the door, moving almost so fast he blurred, just as Moses got to his feet. He slammed into the other man from behind, not holding back for an instant.
The big man went down, and as he impacted he twisted to send several blasts at the newest arrival with one hand while still firing at the ceiling with the other. A web of cracked plaster began to spread, revealing several sturdy wooden beams cris-crossing the area above them. Beams which were looking less sturdy by the second as the concussive energy blasts gnawed away at them.
#T'Challa, the roof's going,# Nathan sent sharply, as the other man landed two solid blows to Moses's face. Not enough to knock him out, however, and Nathan rushed in, intending to help.
With the two opponents to worry about, Moses was forced to stop his pounding of the ceiling. He struggled to rebuff T'Challa, and as Nathan approached he redoubled his efforts, pulling both hands in to his chest and waiting for the two men to come closer before releasing another burst of energy that radiated out around him wildly.
It flung them both backwards, T'Challa into the hall and Nathan into the wall on the other side of the room. T'Challa, with his enhanced durability, was the first to stagger back to his feet, letting out a roar of what sounded like pure fury and charging Moses before the other man could react.
The fight denigrated from a focused powers altercation into a brawl -the two men were in such close quarters that it was all they could do to swing and tussle with one another. Moses was only as strong as a normal man, but he was big and very, very angry. Slamming against the wall, he tried to wrest free of T'Challa's grip, forgetting about Nathan's presence in the face of his rage.
For a minute or two, it didn't matter that he'd forgotten; Nathan was slow to get up, having hit the wall hard. But he braced himself against the offending wall as he straightened, waiting for a chance, some opening. One didn't present itself immediately. T'Challa was pressing the attack, tangled up with the other man, and Nathan swore. #Damn it, T'Challa, get out of the way!#
Even as he projected the thought, Moses landed a hard blow to the ribs Nathan had seen the Wakandan favoring, and T'Challa staggered, doubling over. Nathan immediately lashed out, flinging Moses at the oppposite wall of the room.
He hit with a thud and slid to the floor, inert. He made no move to get up, and upon further examination, seemed to be unconscious.
"Thank you," T'Challa wheezed, trying to straighten.
"Hand to hand with an energy projector," Nathan snapped at him, more than a little shaky himself. "Really smart. Oxford should take back your degree, or at least-"
He didn't get to finish the rest of the sentence. Nathan felt the thoughts of the unconscious - not right out, damn it! - Moses shift, suddenly and unpredictably, and then the man was aiming a hand at the ceiling above his and T'Challa's heads.
BOOM!
The ceiling collapsed instantly under the impact of the concussive blast. Debris didn't just rain down on the two men, it cascaded.
There was now a very large hole where the ceiling had been - large enough for a certain weatherworker to swoop inside just as Moses pushed himself to his feet to finish the job the rubble had started. A quick survey of the room showed Ororo the situation clearly enough, and she immediately turned her attention to neutralizing the angry mutant even as she pushed aside her worry for Nate and T'Challa.
Quickest was easiest in this case, and minimizing property damage obviously wasn't a concern at that point. A sudden gust of wind slammed Moses back into the wall he had just crawled up from, and in case that wasn't enough to knock the man out, a lightning strike to the piecemeal ceiling above caused several large chunks to fall directly onto him.
He fell, and this time, stayed down. Part of the debris heaved and T'Challa emerged, looking a bit dazed, but largely intact. He saw Moses prone on the ground, and coughed, trying to clear his lungs of the dust.
"That is the second time that-" The profanity was in some Wakandan dialect, but sounded absolutely foul, "-has dropped a house on me."
The debris heaved in another spot, and started to slide off a glowing golden telekinetic shield. "We were doing fine," Nathan insisted, coughing as well.
"You were buried under half the roof!" Ororo exclaimed, not even bothering to hide the relief in her voice as both men emerged from the rubble. "That is hardly the definition of 'fine' as I have heard it said."
Nathan gave T'Challa a look that could only be described as long-suffering. "She tends to fuss," he said.
"Mmm," T'Challa said, casting a dark look at Moses and a slightly wary one at Ororo.
She scowled back at him with an expression that clearly said: There is still half a roof left. Keep your mouth shut unless you want it around your ears too. "I am going to check on the smugglers outside," she said then, crossing over a cracked beam with a deliberate step. "Will you two be able to keep an eye on Moses until reinforcements come?"
"I think we can manage," Nathan said, already kneeling down beside the unconscious man. "Going to be a slightly unethical telepath here and make sure he stays unconscious for the next twelve hours or so..." He looked up and at both T'Challa and Ororo in turn, as if to make sure they were okay, and his lips twitched slightly in what might have been a relieved smile before he turned his attention back to Moses.
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