6976/Oh Where Oh Where Has Our Janet Gone

Oh Where Oh Where Has Our Janet Gone
Date of Scene:	21 March 2019
Location:	Janet van Dyne's Penthouse
Synopsis:	Wanda and T'Challa investigate the scene of Janet's abduction and find clues to her location.
Thanks to:	Thanks Janet!
Cast of Characters:	Black Panther, Scarlet Witch, Wasp (van Dyne)

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Black Panther has posed:
After the initial rush to the penthouse, T'Challa had flown about the city in the Wakandan jet he keeps on hand, searching for any signs of the robot intruders. Now it is later in the evening of the abduction. With hope of finding them making their escape vanishing, T'Challa flies back towards Janet's building.

"This is Panther," the Wakandan says into his comms system. "No sign of anything we can track. I am returning to the penthouse to search for leads," he says in his cultured-sounding African accent. "Is anyone else there with SHIELD?" he asks.

The cloaked Wakandan jet, nearly silent compared to conventual aircraft, nears the building as T'Challa sets it on auto-pilot to wait for him as he moves over towards the exit by which he will drop down to the building.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
Stranger choices of investigator exist. One could presumably try to find the Ghost Rider firing up a distillery accidentally. Possibly a talking duck or raccoon might offer precious insight. But Wanda served in SHIELD -- technically she might still have things on file -- and knows how to see the odd. She needs very little time to coordinate on Janet's home and close the distance. New York is a living organism in a way. Tapping into the urban pathways to move from Point A to Point D while skipping over B and C is native to the witch.

When her comm-link goes off, routed through her phone, she is midway crossing the street. "Maximoff," she replies. Her voice easily defines which one. Pietro sounds nothing like that even in his falsetto. The front door of the building rears up in front of her, and she inclines her head, assessing the corners for any cameras, anything out of the ordinary trained on her. "It might be faster to simply go in the old-fashioned way."

Black Panther has posed:
T'Challa opens up the circular hole in the floor of the Jet. The wind whipping between the skyscrapers can be felt, coming in through the opening as the African man looks down at the high-rise below. "Wanda. I will check their entry point from the outside. And see you inside, after," he tells her. His mask forms into place then and T'Challa crosses his arms and steps into the hole, dropping down onto the roof.

Quiet footsteps take him across the roof. His mask passes through each of the light spectra looking for anything unusual as he finds the entry point. "It is fortunately no one was below," he comments aloud as he sees the hole that was made by the robots in their entry. Though most of the debris seems to have ended up inside, some can be seen on the street below.

T'Challa crouches, checking the edges to see if the hole was blown open with some sort of weapon, or if it was just brute force. Afterwards he announces himself. "SHIELD. This is the Black Panther. About to enter the penthouse through the hole in the building," he says.

Best not to be shot by your allies, after all.

After hearing back from them, he drops in, his mask retracting as T'Challa looks about, frowning at the scene that is laid out before him. "Wanda, I am inside," he informs her over comms.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
Waiting for any sign of someone who counts as a doorman, Wanda enters the building purposefully like she belongs then. Nothing like a hex ready on her lips, defying the laws of gravity and reality, she doesn't do more than pause briefly to assure no mail lurks in Janet's mailbox. Nothing like threats being mailed to the dearest fashionista. After the delay, she heads for the stairs. Switchbacking her way up to the penthouse may take a bit, but isn't Steve always going on and on about keeping in peak physical condition?

No one else has to know 'Don't Stop Me Now' plays in her mind as she climbs risers two by two, looking up now and then. The light, elegant footfalls may be eased up a little when she pauses about six floors up to give herself a breather and look up in case anyone speaks to trouble. Well, there /is/ a faster way to go about it, but she refuses to float herself up right along the way. So, fine. T'Challa shows up first but she cases the building, her Sight wide open to absorb any oddities that would stand out as unusual. Supernatural signatures, mystic signatures, an aura of pure hate or death spirits hanging around are all equal game for 'odd' in her books.

Sooner or later, she reaches the door. "Keep a careful profile," she murmurs. "And remember to look up. Cracks may be important."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet's penthouse looks like it got hit by a boulder. No blast signs, no missiles or scorching. Just a huge amount of physical mass slamming into the sidewall and knocking through into her spacious living room. The wall's fallen in and part of the roof's collapsed, allowing a patter of rain and cold wind to scatter over newly powdered rubble. Inside, however, there are signs of intense struggle. Blaster marks. The distinctive pockmarks of Janet's bioplasma and scorch marks from energy weapons. Dismembered robots, something roughly man-sized and perhaps six hundred pounds. More discreet than Sentinels. Smaller. More effective. It looks as if Janet might have fought a retreat to the second floor and her suite beyond.

Black Panther has posed:
Black Panther just stands in the entry hole at first, looking around with disturbing anything. His mask goes back on, again passing through infrared, ultraviolet, and thermal vision before retracting again. "She put up quite a fight," T'Challa murmurs, leaving his comms open so Wanda can hear him. T'Challa finally moves in further, pausing to inhale the scents of the room, spending nearly as much time at it as he does looking.

The sound of footsteps approaching the door cause T'Challa to glance over, one of the SHIELD agents making sure no one disturbs the site moving aside for Wanda. The Wakandan will move over to greet her when she comes in. "I would say it is good to see you," T'Challa says to her, "But we would both wish better circumstances."

His gaze sweeps back across the room. "Her blasts, and theirs. I think she passed this direction," he comments. Pointing as if firing, each point of his finger matching up with one of the scorch marks. "And then on that way," T'Challa says, looking to Wanda to see if she concurs. He steps over to the fallen robot then. Examining it, including smelling it. Seeing if he can get any sense of where it might have come from by the scents on it.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
Footsteps lead up to the door to the apartment. Rather than deal with putting her hand on it, she waits for a SHIELD agent to do the same. Perhaps they have already cased the place top to bottom but someone under Director Fury, Hill or variations thereof do not look for what the mystic practitioner does. Neither is she as world-wise in certain elements of espionage, so the balance remains the same. Nodding to the Wakandan king, it will have to stand in the way of bowing or curtsying. Rather, a faint tightening to her lips speaks all it needs to.

Following the line of his gesture, she considers the damage. Radii bursts hold her gaze. The Sight deepens, widens, looking for any anomalies still present even in retrospect. "I would rather avoid postcognition," she murmurs. "But let's see what comes to the fore. She was going for a safe space. The size is different. I do not like the robotics. Luthor Corp is said to be making a rival model."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
The attack replays itself for Wanda's senses and T'challa's intuition. Breach team bursting through the mirrored glass windows, the weakest point in the penthouse. No weapons used until they're more or less inside, to contain the noise. Pockmarked laser blasts digging trenches and divots out of the wall and floor.

Around the corner, another broken Sentinel. It's hulking, a powerful construct that clearly was meant for this kind of up close and intense combat. A self-destruct seems to have scrapped essential systems and blasted crunchy microchips across Janet's bedroom floor like so many chaffy microchips.

Black Panther has posed:
A cold wind blows through the hole in the penthouse wall. As if Mother Nature wanted to drive home the violation that was done here. A peron's home is a sacred space. One that holds the promise of safety and shelter against the ills that the world might wish to throw at them. With the violent invasion, even the elements are allowed entry to Janet's space.

The dust and debris swirl about T'Challa, making him turn his head away before leaning back down to sniff the robot again. He turns to look towards Wanda. "The timing is concerning. These seem more like Trask models. Unless Luthor Crop has copied them greatly." T'Challa rises from where he was crouched. "Perhaps a move to force our hand? With the prisoner?" he suggests.

T'Challa moves forward, following the course of the battle. Getting to the second Sentinel and examining it. "At least there is hope. If they came to take her, rather than kill? Then they need her for something. And we have time to find them." He rises again and turns back to the Scarlet Witch. "Can you tell where she was finally taken?" he asks.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
"Without getting close, unconfirmed." The edge arises out of the gloomy Slavic undertones always present in Wanda's speaking voice. Her projected thoughts carry the distinctive fluted melodies of Transian. Not always when she talks. Respectfully she stares into the gloom, her eyes starting to take on a dangerous mulberry sheen heralding tapping into gifts of a slightly mercurial, infinitely less stable orientation. "Trask's robots still active might react to me. Supposing they are keyed to bloodlines at all." The risk remains as she paints invisible sigils in the air as a precaution: a shield being formed with quick, precise movements.

She glances aside at T'Challa, mouth a hardening frown. Words are not necessary for this most reflexive arcane gesture. Two pinched movements and firefly sparks settle over her raspberry and ash ensemble, reinforcing them against casual attack. "Anyone who took her makes this a fight with all. They must know. It is either a mistake or very hard math." She falls in behind him, nodding as they move through the battlefield. Trust the man who can take bullets far better than she can. "At the end of the road, I will look. A basin of water will let me show you too. Better we do exhaust options. Did her building have the program like Stark? Record?"

Black Panther has posed:
T'Challa pauses in his examination of the room to look over towards the Eastern European woman. The man's dark brown eyes cloud with concern for Wanda as she reminds him of the robot's programming and its intersection with her genetic makeup. "Should that happen? Do as you need to protect yourself. They might even ignore me. So I would do my best to keep them from you," he tells her, that concern in T'Challa's voice.

He looks back to the room, crouching to check what is underfoot, but moving on as he thinks he catches a scent of... something. Something that stands out compared to the rest of the room. T'Challa's head turns, drawing more breaths as he moves to try to identify what it might be.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Jen's bedroom looks like the tiny Avenger put up a hell of a fight. Outrage and fierce violence scream against Wanda's senses. Janet was furious. Scattered chaff, debris, pockmarks on the wall from her bioblasts. Strange that she wouldn't flee out a vent or something. But there's no sign of her, just the shattered remains of her attackers. One Sentinel, however, seems to have misfired its self-destruct. The head is thrown against the wall and buzzing fitfully, disabled but not destroyed. The cogitator unit even looks intact to T'challa's keen eye.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
"It might happen. It tries and I will destroy it." The crawling vision of mulberry flame ignites in the cores of her eyes. They overtake her pupils. Motes coalesce on her fingertips as she lifts off the ground by a few centimeters at most, hanging on her very toes. Anger, slow and inchoate, moves among her veins. It begs her response on a visceral level as the emotions and worry for Janet tantamount blend together in a deadly elixir. One that needs a little steam let off, while she looks -up- to taste the echoes of the mood permeating the air.

"Why? Did she let herself be taken to lead us?"

Black Panther has posed:
As the mystically inclined woman has her attention drawn by other elements, T'Challa finds himself focusing in one of the Sentinels. Tony Stark he is not. Nor Bruce Banner. Nor his sister - as she is likely to point out at every opportunity - when it comes to matters of technology. But a physics degree from Oxford and a lifetime dealing with vibranium-based technology means the Wakandan king is far from ignorant on technological matters.

"I believe this one's self destruct may have failed," T'Challa says quietly as he motions to the Sentinel. "I do not know any of it is still active," he says, T'Challa raising his costume's protective mask. "Please be prepared the shrapnel from the rest of the room. Should any remaining parts detonate," T'Challa says.

He moves over to the Sentinel then. Carefully examining it. He finds what is left of the power source to try to disconnect it, assuring no further damage can be done to the system.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet fought to the bitter end. But the end was inevitable for the cornered Wasp. Overwhelmed, outgunned, backed into a corner.

But most importantly-- still alive. And Wanda can chase the subtle trail of her departure through the air, her awareness tugging towards her path as surely as a dog catches a scent.

T'challa, then, finds the Sentinel's skull and disables the explosives. Not safe by a long shot-- but secure. For now.

Between the two of them, the Avengers will be able to derive where Janet's location is. And then it's just a race to the clock to see if they can rescue her before the worst happens.

Scarlet Witch has posed:
The frustration lingers there. Hanging in the air, her voice and her question go unanswered. Wanda stretches her senses to their limit in searching for those traces. The hints of anger. The taste of the familiar.

A snap of her wrist sends a tracer, mystic in nature, rippling through the air and bolting outwards. "That way," she gestures. "We can hold to just that. The sooner," she tells T'Challa, "the better. She needs to be home. Those who did this will be most unhappy they did."