224/Diplomatic Visits

Diplomatic Visits
Date of Scene:	30 April 2017
Location:	New York City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Iron Man, Black Panther, Gregory Stark, 194

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Iron Man has posed:
The sun is shining down on the United Nations, giving if only outwardly, a show of a 'good day' in the world. The protesters of one country or another aren't quite as populated as they will be further into the season as there was a forecast of rain later in the day. After all, who wants to march with placards in the rain?

So, for the moment, UN employees, officials and guests outnumber those who are huddle-gathered in smallish groups. Around one planted small grove of trees (see? Trees do grown in New York!), there are some rather well dressed protesters, an even mix of men and women, catcalling some men and women dressed in 'high power' suits. Their targets are walking as if they're simply turning a blind eye to the harassment; living in the City teaches one that. That is, until one rock is thrown in their direction, and then another. And another.

Black Panther has posed:
A convoy of black SUV's pulls up to the UN front steps. Right in front of the protesters. Three identical vehicles all jet black with blacked out windows. All 3 with a pair flags ( https://goo.gl/Q9baw3 ) mounted to the hood. The official transport and protection detail for the King of Wakanda and his retinue. All three pull up the the curb and as if rehearsed, the front passenger doors all open and three black men hop out, all three opening the back passenger door. The lead and rear vehicles, a beefy guy in Gucci, easily NFL linebacker size. And from the front, a slim lady wearing a little charcoal grey number from Getty. Both step out and walk to join the man who exits from the middle SUV.

Tall, easily 6 foot.. and lithe though powerfully built, this man has a presense about him, everyone in his convoy giving a bow as he exits the vehicle. Clad in Black Armani ( https://goo.gl/VTi8ve ) he takes a look around from behind black sunglasses.

"Pardon me.." Is all he says to the small crowd barring him from the UN, expecting them to part and allow him through.

Gregory Stark has posed:
     Down the front lines in the middle of New York traffic drives a lone limousine. It's pure white and clearly a hold over from the 1920's. There's been some rather serious work done to it from the looks to modify it, turning the Rolls Royce to a super stretch. The windows in back are tinted to a complete mirror finish reflecting the world around completing the one of a kind look.

     It pulls to the side away from the main SUV, the front end reaching side walk a good five seconds before the back wheels. While the main parking spot may be taken there's still no time to spend wasting away and stalling while waiting for someone else.

     Out the front of the vehicle a man dressed in a pure white chauffeurs uniform bounds out the passenger door, before running around to the far back, with a single... chunk of carpet draped over his arm. His features are rather... oddly bland, nondescript, like he was almost too generic of a person.

     Laying down the small square of carpet, he opens the door allowing for Gregory Stark, the man inside the limo to step fourth into the light of day. Already he's looking rather nonplussed, his white mirrored sunglasses kicking up all manner of displays while he steps down onto the carpeting and breaks right into a stride, followed behind by a lone secretary who... again.. looks almost too nondescript. A very sort of generic black haired woman, in a respectable business suit.

     The Chauffeur behind picks back up the length of carpeting and places it back over his arm closing shut the door, for Gregory whose path seems to lead him right through the middle of the protesters a stark refusal to alter his path even for risk of bowling right over the men and women exercising their right for free protest.

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
She strides forward through the crowd, head held high, carrying herself with an air that would have been regarded centuries past as 'nobility'. In modern America, it comes across as stern, even arrogant or cold.

People part for her, however. It could be due to the fact that she looks like some light elf queen straight out of a roleplaying game. It could be due to the fact that a lot of powerful people dress strangely, and have the power to back up their eccentric looks. It could be because she's carrying a very long, very sharp looking claymoore-styled sword at her right hip, right hand on the top of the scabbard.

As she approaches the UN building, her brows furrow together, and she stops. So this is the place where leaders and kings meet on this governmentally fractured world. It's disappointingly fitting that there is some kind of unrest outside, the governed rebelling against their leaders. She's beginning to accept that this planet is chaotic disharmony itself. The goddess was right to send her here. No sentient people deserve to live in this kind of fragmented hell.

Iron Man has posed:
Rocks are being thrown... it's not necessarily a completely peaceful protest going on. Heads are rising, necks are craning from the other isolated groups- could the Earth First group find a reason to toss rocks? Maybe? What about the Anti-Disestablishmentarians? They're ready to toss the stones at those tossing stones, no doubt.

"What I mean, Ambassador, is that I fully support your attempts to-" Exiting the building in question are a small group of be-suited men, all wearing identification cards but for one. Should any actually watch the news, have access to business or fashion magazines (or even rags), it wouldn't be hard to identify that one... One Tony Stark. As he exits the double doors of the UN Economic Building, he's setting his sunglasses onto his face as a stone whizzes past.

"Hey, hey!" They've interrupted his conversation, "What-" It's not easy to miss the stride of a woman wearing a SWORD at her hip, and security is going to go nuts over this one- having to split their resources. Some will, indeed, start in Bel's direction. Others approach T'Challa, "Your Majesty, if you woud--" and others would try and hurry Tony, who is currently now standing in one place, ready to stare down the rock-throwers. Alas for Greg? It's a nice car. Rocks. Nice car. Rocks.

Black Panther has posed:
Turning to regard the retinues of the man in white, noting the lack of dissimilarities between the assistants. But it's the 'Elf Queen' (what elf uses a claymore? JK!) that gets his attention. A lack of entourage, the strangeness of her garb. Instead of heading directly into the UN.. they can wait for him, he is King after all. He holds up a hand, cutting the security men off. He heads for the elf. "Pardon me." He says, (and yes his accent is that from the movie) "Are you going to the UN?" He asks her. Both his bodyguard and assistant are at his right and left hands, a few paces behind, as is their place. Both both are shielding T'challa from the rocks, each taking a few hits themselves.

The rest of the convoy however, all get back into the SUV's and pull away, leaving the three to thier business with the world leaders.

"They seem none too pleased to be see us, perhaps we should go inside before my Dora Milaje gets angry." He says and motions towards the front doors. He locks eyes (well shades) with Tony and nods at him, recognizing the man from the news and from his own state breifings. He knows of the man and his exploits.

Gregory Stark has posed:
     "The next person to throw a rock at that car will have their heads blown off by my security." Gregory states rather suddenly in a calm but booming voice amplified by his nanobots. "This is your only warning." A rather ballsy statement and one that would be a complete PR disaster later but he's not in a great mood. He's clearly not the same Gregory that left home.

     Spoken the moment one rock bounds off of his rather expensive car. His own stride slams people out of the way, not divides them as he walks through the crowd slowly but with the pure strength of an Olympian. His steps light for someone who isn't moved by the people standing before or around him.

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
The pale (entirely white, pale is a poor description but we'll use that for now) woman readies herself for a confrontation as the security forces are dispatched her way, expression tightening, magenta eyes intensely focused on them. Her left hand is moving towards the hilt of the sword, when the security are bid to step back, and the taller, more impressive leader at the center of them approaches her instead.

She recognizes his bearing immediately; like knows like, and her left hand stops and moves back to its place at her side. She looks up at him and answers. "I am," she states. "I was informed that this is the place in which this world's leaders gather to discuss matters of importance. I would request audience with all of them to know the state of the world and source of its threat, as the goddess revealed to me."

Gregory's loud voice catches her attention for a moment. "... His projection is adequate, but he lacks sufficient chord, I think. I am starting to understand that the people of this world are monosonic."

Iron Man has posed:
It's a brief but acknowledged encounter, sunglasses to sunglasses. Tony inclines his head briefly in the greeting before he physically turns to face those throwing rocks. One dings off a shoulder. Another, his hand, but he's undaunted. "Hey, see.. now that's mean. That car's a classic, even if-"

It's Gregory that gains Tony's sudden attention then, the threats rolling off the man's tongue in the middle of a sea of security as they pour from some of the outer buildings. He stares at the man long and hard before he mumbles, "Dammit.. shoulda grounded the airport before I left..." before he lifts his head higher, "Really? If you're gonna threaten people, don't do it near reporters. Seriously." Sure enough, a couple of the man behind those that Tony was walking with all have their phones up, recording sound, if nothing else.

Black Panther has posed:
T'challa smiles at the pale woman, drinking in her entire presense, visuals to scent, to the way she stands. All of it thundering in the enhanced senses of the king. "First thing you should know.." He says and a rock clips his shoulder, getting through his bodyguard's protection. But it's like he doesnt feel it. The rock doesn't bounce.. it falls away. And for those paying REALLY close attention, a small ripple of bluish light can be seen for an instant at the impact spot.

Something is not what it seems

"Is that generally.. weapons are not permitted. I am not sure where you have arrived from, but here.. bringing weapons with you to meet a king, means you intend him violence." He can say these things because visitors to his country would note.. everyone is trained to fight. Everyone. Training begins as a child, and is life long. Weapons and unarmed alike. But the outside world is different.

He motions to the UN front doors. But then Gregory starts shoving people aside and marching up the steps. "Sir.. you would to well to remember your place. King or not.. this place is one of peace. And it will remain so."

Gregory Stark has posed:
     The reaction from Gregory's assistants isn't exactly what one might expect either, their expressions remaining rather flat as they work away. Though it's at this point the car does slowly pull away the rocks having managed to completely smash the after market rear-view mirror on the side of the car.

     Gregory is clearly not in a grand mood with all the jet setting teleporting and conferencing he's been doing non-stop but he just shakes his head. "Tony I don't expect you to understand." As he adjusts the cuffs of his suit jacket speaking to his brother in a calm, and collected voice. "In Madripoor I can actually follow through on it." The decorum of his outfit a contrast to the general attitude he displays for but a moment.

     He flexes his thick white leather gloves for but a moment before regaining his composure, the general exposure to all of these germs does nothing good for him. They're everywhere in the air on the skin, he's going to need a chemical bath when he gets back home.

     That facade goes right back on as the cameras start a rolling, falling back into his own composure. "You'll need to understand there is a lot of pressure at the moment, and I'll admit it takes some time to get used to how business is done stateside,". Calmly explaining towards the Wakandan as he wants very much not to start any sort of war, then again he's spent the better part of ten years in a country without most laws. As a large pointed rock slams right into the side of his head, thrown by a mutant in the crowd simply... bounds off in the middle of his speaking, causing a slight twitch in his left eye, the mud from the brick sliding down his face as the entire facade cracks slightly.

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
Bel is a little shorter than human average, and definitely doesn't smell human; at best it's very, /very/ vaguely avian. Her muscles - what little can be seen under that neck to foot dress and overlay of armor, are tensed, as if she is under great effort in just standing. That armor, incidentally, appears to be crystalline in nature. At the very edges, rivulets of light give it a soft, barely perceptible glow.

Her eyes catch that flash of blue, but return politely to meet back up with T'challa's. There's no shyness or avoidance here at all. "Ah. I have been told to 'leave my sword at home', but that is an impossibility. My home is millions of light years away, and I have no dwelling place on this world. I cannot abandon Soulsong, nor would I leave it out of my presence. I give my word as Heir that it will be used only for the purposes of defense... though my word and house are apparently worth naught."

She nods briefly and will follow T'Challa to the UN doors, should he walk towards them.

Iron Man has posed:
Tony takes one more step towards the protesters, and he raises a hand. "Hey, c'mon. That car didn't do anything to anyone. Hell... I'm willing to bet it drives on green energy," and he calls out over his shoulder in Gregory's direction, "Doesn't it." Statement, not fact. After all.. Madripoor is pretty damned, well... poor. Fossil fuels are not necessarily in abundance? Returning his attention towards the small gathered, some of whom still have rocks, he leans forward, and offers in a stage whisper, "And if you do that again, my guess is that security is going to bury you so deeply, it'll take at least a hundred years of fracking to figure out where you are."

Straightening again, Tony offers a tight smile to those before he turns around once again; that cool suit thing is only noticed at the end, his brows rising as the only indicator that he might have seen anything. Other than that? He's back to inscrutible with the RayBans. "Gregory, all you have to know is that you don't go around threatening to shoot people. That went out, oh... well, okay. It's still being done. Just not here. Mostly. Not legally, anyway."

Tony looks at those from the UN that he had been speaking with and simply nods his head as they turn to move back to the building. Then, he's on his way towards T'Challa and the unknown, be-sworded lady, catching up easily. "Uh.. excuse me. Yeah.. they're really not up on that. You even have to leave your cellphone in a little plastic bin outside the offices. You know... they're funny. But, and I couldn't help overhearing, home's something of a no-go. So..." Tony's looking at the two of them, the King and Bel, and finally, raises his glasses only slightly off his face, "How 'bout we find a happy medium somewhere."

Black Panther has posed:
T'challa listens then nods to Bel. "People of this world are not bound to their word like they used to be. So people tend not to trust someone simply saying the words 'I swear I will not use my blade.' It is unfortunate.. but that is how it is." He tells her and turns to Tony. " What would you suggest? I am due for a meeting with your leaders to discuss a few key points of my country. I cannot simply abandon that."

Gregory Stark has posed:
     Gregory closes his eyes for a long moment, holding out his hand to one side. His secretary speaks in a rather low voice that sounds a bit robotic for lack of a better word, emotionless and distant. "Sir, your heart rate is far too high, you need to calm yourself." A wetnap is placed into his hand and he slowly cleans off some of the dirt, folding it before passing it back over. There's a visible slight bit of a tremble to him, yet more fear and discomfort then anger as he tries to make absolutely sure there are no germs on him.

     To be made a fool of was one thing, to be told to know his place another, but to have mud... MUD touch his skin, to need his brother to once again stand up for him. It's almost enough to make him want to break down on the spot like a child.

     Instead he collects himself, adjusts his tie, and takes a deep breath, moving for the main UN doors. "The only thing that car outputs, is clean water vapor." Concurring with his brother and trying to save face in the process. "And, it's hand crafted from recycled materials, making it an eco friendly solution to modern car problems, available from your local Stark Global Solutions outlet for as low as 240 dollars a month."

     His own footsteps rapidly picking up the pace while trying to keep himself looking calm and collected on the verge of a mental breakdown inside. Thoughts race and he tries to find his center, something that can stabilize him in this moment as on the surface he returns that unflappable uncracked slightly smarmy attitude.

     Moving to be near the group he decides is a good chance to recover, make it look like a little fluke for the PR guys to handle, even as he gets a little injection from one of his assistants on the sly, who passes it off as a quick lean in and whisper to his ear.

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
Bel's mouth draws into an unhappy line. "If it is against custom, it behooves me to agree to the restrictions. I have none of these 'sell phones', but I suppose I could place Soulsong into my ship. Unfortunately, I would need a place to rest my ship, unfurled. It would be disruptive to place it on road."

The protestors get stared at a little longer. "If you can suggest a compromise, I am willing to harmonize with it. I do not wish to be delayed speaking to your leaders any further than I must be. The goddess showed me that darkness is coming, but she did not show me -when-. I dare not spend time foolishly."

The incident with Gregory and his car is lost on her. She has nothing to compare it to. She does, however gesture to the protestors. "Do these people have no respect for authority or leadership? Do they truly believe that harassment and injury will bend the ear of kings to their complaint? They behave as churls and should be disciplined."

Iron Man has posed:
See? Tony can identify a car to the nth degree. He looks back at the protesters and one of //those// smiles. The polite, civil, yet so very pleased smile before he's on to different business. Eventually they'll disperse. They always do. Particularly with the encouragement of security.

The King of Wakanda deserves something, some information there, and he's got the billionaire's full attention for the moment. "With the DESA?" Department of Economic and Social Affairs. Tony thumbs backwards, "They're probably waiting for China. Liang is playing a game and I haven't figured out what it is yet." There's a moment when he looks back to Gregory, who is re-composing himself. For a long moment, his gaze lingers before, "Any ideas there?" Of course, because Gregory hadn't immediately identified himself as a 'Stark', it can almost be assumed that it's one of Tony's ventures.

For his part, Tony pulls a hand through hair that musses and he looks back to Bel. If the glance given Gregory was unreadable, it's completely different here. Interest. Curiosity... so very curious. He takes a step close, his head ducking slightly and looking to the side as if ready to start a rather quiet, intimate conversation. His voice lowers a little before and his hand points towards the downtown, "I have a landing pad on my Tower." From the sound of it, it's absolutely capitalized. "How big's the ship?" Does nothing faze Tony? He straightens again, his eyes never leave Bel, "Easy enough to get in contact with the FAA to let them know it's in the airspace. Just use my name; it'll be fine."

Black Panther has posed:
T'challa shakes his head. "Unfortunately.. Matters of state take precedence over socializing, no matter how interesting the company might be. China is part of why I must go in, Liang is part of why I must attend the meeting. His game, as you say.. is petitioning the UN to get access to Wakandan tech. I must deal with him first. I will be happy to join you afterwards however." He tells both the Heir and the Iron Man. He turns, bald female bodyguard and beefy linebacker personal aide in tow, parting the growing crowd of protesters and entering the UN proper.

Gregory Stark has posed:
     It takes a moment for the injection to properly take affect, before Gregory is back into fighting shape as it were. The color is coming back to his face, and he certainly looks a bit more himself, as his own confidence returns somewhat. He gives a glance back to Tony "If dear old dads landing pad isn't up to scratch she could always land it in Madripoor, and use the tubes."

     "I mean I'd certainly be more then willing to let her make use of the space, I've been meaning to re purpose it since we finished testing on the mark forty seven." The blonde bearded man gives a firm nod towards the Wakandan king, another moment spent to adjust his tie.

Bel Canto (194) has posed:
Bel watches T'challa head inside. Such is the life and work of a ruler, and she understands completely. Another time, then; everything in its due order and time, every note in its bar.

"Very well. I ... have no idea who the 'Eff Ay Ay' is, but I will resonate on all waves my intentions. I could not properly address them before," she confesses with just a slip of embarassment. Reaching to her back, she unfastens a large v-shaped purple and silver chunk of crystal. Holding it in her hands, she announces to Tony and Gregory, "The Voidsong. Harmonian light defense fighter, perhaps the last still in service. We have had little use for them since the end of the invasion."

And then she sings.

It's not just one woman singing in a lovely, clear, strong voice, though that would be pleasant enough; when Bel Canto opens her mouth, the sound of an entire choir -and- an accompanying orchestra pours out of her mouth. Multiple melodies and harmonies unify in one single note, while undercurrents of counter-resonance flow swiftly down the scale. It's brief, but the effect is immediate; the crystal in her hands rises upwards, high overhead, glowing with prismatic pastel energies, expanding out into a x-wing-like shape composed of a single magenta and silver-swirled object.

"I will ascend the ship and seek Stark Tower for the time being. I will take my repose until you decide to meet with me, at your leisure," she then explains in a singular, normal voice.

The tensed muscles get explained in her next movement, which is to hop straight up, a solid twenty five feet into the air, and land atop the hovering ship. "Sharps and naturals to you both! I shall repay your kindness." She moves out of sight, into the cockpit of the vessel, which lifts higher up and speeds into the air without noise, exhaust or even much wind.