7231/The Little Drummer King

The Little Drummer King
Date of Scene:	14 April 2019
Location:	T'Challa's room - Avengers Mansion
Synopsis:	Steve hears T'Challa's talking drum. They discuss music and politics.
Cast of Characters:	Black Panther, Captain America

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Black Panther has posed:
There are plenty of unusual things that go in the hallways of Avengers Mansion. For example, there's Wade. Point made fully. Not that Wade is here today. But there is something else unusual. Anyone going down the hallway might hear a strange bit of music coming from one of the rooms at the end of the hall.

T'Challa's door is open, as he sometimes leaves it as an invitation for anyone looking to socialize or for company. The kind of thing he'd rarely be able to do in the palace or the Wakandan Embassy where he sometimes stays. The closest he can come, really, to recapturing the feeling of those college days in Oxford where friends might just drop by your room on a whim.

And it seems like he's in today, and there's some interesting music coming from the room.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4oQJZ2TEVI&feature=youtu.be&t=31

Captain America has posed:
Like the scent of freshly-baked cookies or the shine of a neon sign, the singular music is more than enough to draw the attention of one Captain Rogers. He's returning from the gym given the sling of a small duffel bag over his shoulders and the mildly-damp blond hair; then again, the sweatpants and freshly-changed t-shirt might indicate he wasn't behind a Triskelion desk recently. Appearing in the door like a curious cat, he then leans on it comfortably, his grin slowly growing.

The drum is...singing, if it's not such an odd description. At least, to Steve's ears, it is. Sound wends and warps with different points of touch of T'Challa's flying fingers. It's frankly delightful.

Black Panther has posed:
T'Challa is sitting on the back of his couch, one leg up on the armrest and the other on the floor as he plays. He's wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of slacks, which is about as casual of a look as most have seen on him. And he's definitely jamming. Not just playing the music, but feeling it. His skill is good if not professional, but the sheer dexterity he possesses thanks to the heart-shaped herb really shines when playing the talking drum.

T'Challa's body is moving along to the beat, his head bouncing in a way far more animated than the man's normal calm and serene demeanor. His foot on the armrest is tapping along as he plays a particularly vibrant, fast part before finally wrapping up the song.

He glances over, having heard the footfalls even while he was playing. "Steve, I hope I did not intrude on a tranquil moment for you," he offers. "Please, come in."

Captain America has posed:
"You didn't disturb me at all," replies Steve as he walks into the room. As he does, he's certain to toe off his sneakers by the open door and set down his duffel bag. After all, this is someone else's space, not his own. "Hard to miss music like that. Tell me about it." He finds the nearest chair and settles into it, but not with anything like a limp-jointed flop. Instead, he seats himself half on the edge with his elbows rested upon his knees, leaning in towards T'Challa to indicate honest interest.

"I'm not familiar with it. I mean, I know the bodhran drum, but not that one you've got," he clarifies further with an easy smile.

Black Panther has posed:
The African holds the drum so Steve can see it better. Drumheads on both ends, while the sides have strips of leather rather than being solid, with a cord about the middle keeping them somewhat taught. "In English it is known as the talking drum," T'Challa explains. "For how closely it can sound like human speech." T'Challa turns the drum to show Steve how he is gripping those leather straps along the side of the drum. "But squeezing I am able to change the tone," he says, demonstrating.

"And also by where I strike the drum," he says, showing a range of sounds as he goes from the center to the edge of the drumhead. "And also by dampening the head with my fingers. Or using them to drum," he says, again going through a scale of sounds, altering just his fingers placement on the drum. "Here, give it a try," he suggests, smiling to Steve as he extends the drum and lone drumstick in offering. If Steve accepts, T'Challa will help make sure he's gripping it right to try it.

Captain America has posed:
"Oh, sure." The Captain sounds delighted to get a chance to attempt to work the instrument for himself. He shifts his hand to the correct placement after a cued adjustment or two by T'Challa and the lone drumstick is more carefully held in a balanced manner. Frowning down at the instrument tucked beneath his armpit in concentration, he then attempts to imitate what he saw on display not too long ago.

It's...adorable, in its way. By manipulating the pressure about the drum's body and playing around with where the curved drumstick's head bounces from the drum's skin, he makes a completely random mishmash of resonant tones. It's enough to make him break focus and laugh. "Definitely different from the bodhran," he reports, glancing up at T'Challa.

Black Panther has posed:
There is a warm smile on T'Challa's face as he watches Steve's first experience with this bit of West African culture. "I received my first Kalangu - the Wakanda word for it - when I was 7," T'Challa says, getting a warm, distant smile as he recalls. "My sister despised it. I played it day and night. At least, whenever she was around," he says with a warm laugh.

"It took some time, as a boy, to master the tonal qualities. I am fair with it. The true masters can make such songs with it. You might swear there were four of five instruments playing," T'Challa says.

"This one was my father's. He gave it to me when I came home from college. I hope one day to pass it on to a son or daughter," T'Challa tells Steve.

He crosses his arms but motions with one hands towards Steve as the man tries out the drum. "Do you played many instruments?" he inquires.

Captain America has posed:
Steve's grin deepens to hear of boyhood endeavors and sibling rivalry. He holds the drum and drumstick with care as his eyes linger on T'Challa, ever the intent listener when he puts his mind to it.

"I think that's a great plan, handing it down. It's loved, I can tell. Wonder if it'll be something that only gets better with age," he muses mostly to himself as he glances down at the instrument. Shifting it about, he offers both pieces back to the Panther. "As for me and instruments? I mean..." The hesitation is buffered by a wry grin. "Not the bodhran drum. Irish instrument I never learned. I was told my grandfather was a fair hand at it. I can pluck a few things out on a guitar if I get a few minutes to figure out muscle memory again." It's a modest answer; Steve can play moderately well, though not on any level for professional hopes and dreams. "Piano..." He does a so-so gesture with a hand.

Black Panther has posed:
T'Challa takes the drum back, resuming his previous position on the back of the couch, as if finding that the ideal position for holding the drum in. "The guitar is a beautiful instrument. Especially classical guitars. The music in Spain, down through Morocco even? Flamenco and such, are favorites of mine," he shares. "Especially to hear live. And the dancing as well. So lively."

T'Challa smiles and drums out a little bit more, but only for a short spell before setting it aside. "I wish I had spent more time at music. When I was younger. When the free time was there," he says, giving a bit of a deep sigh before chuckling. As if free time can be at a premium now. He does spend a fair amount of time in the holographic room most days, attending meetings in absentia in Wakanda. That is apart from the frequent trips he makes back.

"How have you been lately, Steve? There have been quite a few happenings that were as trying for you as any of us, if not more so," T'Challa comments.

Captain America has posed:
"'m not //that// good," Steve demures as to classical Spanish guitar skill. "Maybe one day, but probably not anytime soon." He listens to the short spate of lyrical rhythm and enjoys it just as much as the original lengthier display by the Panther. "Nothing stopping you from indulging when you can," he adds, the thought accompanied by a rueful smile of understanding.

New York just can't have peace and quiet.

"Can't complain. Wouldn't help if I did anyways." A short sigh and he leans back in the chair now, given he's no longer playing active musical audience. "Once all this Sentinel business is over, might consider a short vacation," the man reveals. "Keep that between you and me for now, hmm? I don't want Janet getting wind and then being disappointed if something comes up." Because poor Janet -- she's dating a workaholic.

Black Panther has posed:
Once T'Challa has set the drum aside, he moves over to the kitchen. "Coffee, Steve? Or tea?" he offers as he is filling a pot with water to set it on the stove, apparently planning some tea for himself. "Time away may be good for you two," T'Challa agrees. If Steve opts for coffee he'll start a fresh pot brewing before returning to take a seat over on the couch, one leg crossing over the other as he relaxes.

"I may be doing more traveling. For a while," the African says thoughtfully. "I have been working to open my nation's minds. To others in the world. It is a slow process," he says with a sigh that speaks to how frustratingly slow it can be. "I have long hoped for Wakanda to cultivate friendships with other nations. I am hoping to take a first step towards that soon. Tell me, are you familiar with Diana Prince?"

Captain America has posed:
"Coffee, please." Now Steve's truly comfortable in the chair given he's pulled in a leg in order to rest a heel on its seat-edge. He nods in agreement in turn and clarifies pragmatically, "Not gonna get my hopes up for some time away, but if I get the chance, we'll disappear for a bit." It has the air of a promise, for what it's worth chanced against the future likelihood of an outbreak of craziness around the city.

He frowns in curiosity rather than concern at hearing the name dropped. "Diana Prince? Vaguely, yeah. Think she goes by Wonder Woman. I know she was in the first war, but I was a little young to know about it," he admits without qualm. "You thinking of reaching out to her people?"

Black Panther has posed:
T'Challa rises from the couch once the teapot is chirping and the coffee has had time to produce a full cup. Though before going to the kitchen, he pauses to close the door. Perhaps suggesting the topic is one he is entrusting Steve to hear, but he wishes to control that circle of trust.

"Yes, Wonder Woman," T'Challa confirms as he heads back to the Kitchen then. "She is serving as Themyscira's ambassador. I have already begun reaching out to her. A remarkable woman, my friend," he says with a shake of his head as if his words do not do the topic justice.

"Themyscira has much in common with Wakanda. Closed to the rest of the world. For most if not all of their history. They are friendly with Iceland. But no other nations that I know of," T'Challa says. The coffee and tea are poured, some milk added to the tea as he brings the cups over, giving the coffee to Steve and then retaking his seat.

T'Challa sips the tea thoughtfully. "Protective of our cultures. Closed to the outside world. Yet both countries have long had protectors. Who share similar ideals. I heard this before I met Diana. I believe it strongly after. She inspires in me the kind of confidence that you do, my friend," T'Challa tells Steve.

Captain America has posed:
"Right, that's where I know her: Themyscira's ambassador. Saw her at a social function or two in the past, didn't get a chance to meet her just yet," Steve explains as T'Challa works at fixing up both coffee and tea. The man even remembers that the Captain prefers his coffee without any fixings, a hold-over from a time in the trenches where sugar and dry socks were pipe dreams. A curt nod of gratitude for the delivery of the drink as well as a lift of it in friendly salute and the soft sound of slurping means it passes muster.

Steve sets aside the mug to allow it to cool for a minute or two and goes back to his easy recline in the chair. He smiles a little knowingly at T'Challa and nods. "Sounds like she's a top-tier dame. You're awful alike, I'll agree, if those are the parallels between your cultures. I imagine you can both sympathize with one another over the daily challenges of reaching out to shake hands with others."

Black Panther has posed:
T'Challa returns the little salute with his own cup. "Very much so. And we have both been out in the world. Not just seen the challenges here. Faced them in combat. We realize what our countries may face," T'Challa says. "The Sentinels the most recent example."

T'Challa eyes his tea cup as his thoughts run through his mind. "Her mother is their queen. Not as open-minded as Diana. But I have hope. I believe she is of like mind with me. That for each, the other nation is nearly as ideal a partner as we could find."

T'Challa raises his cup as if toasting something this time. "That it succeeds. And gives both our nations the comfort to grow additional friendships after." He flashes a grin over to Steve and says, "My sister used to wear a Wonder Woman costume when she was a girl. And Okoye?" T'Challa breaks out in warm, genuine charmed laughter. "Diana mentioned she could tell Okoye's prowess just by observing her. I think Okoye was going to burst from pride. Do not tell her I said this, but she is such a fan-girl of Diana's."

Captain America has posed:
The laughter is infectious. Steve chuckles despite himself, given he's incredibly aware of how the dignified Okoye is to ruffle. "Won't say a thing," he promises as he reaches over to take up his mug of coffee again. "I've seen how she looks at you when you tease at her. Hate to have that look turned on me." He grins, showing dimples. "I hope it works out for you, T'Challa. I know you've been working hard at expanding trust beyond Wakanda's borders."

The steaming drink is lifted towards the Panther. "That it succeeds," he echoes the earlier sentiments before drinking deeply of the coffee. "Mmm," gulp. "That's good stuff." A glance to one of the clocks in the room and he winces.

"That time already. I've got to get changed out, there's another meeting. You know...meetings." Steve rolls his eyes, just a little, at the concept. "Figure I can't attend in this." As he stands, he gestures down his gym clothing. "Thank you again, T'Challa, for the coffee and music. Bit of class in my afternoon." He flashes another grin.

Black Panther has posed:
T'Challawill walk with Steve over to the door. "Thank you for stopping by. The matter with Themyscira, one I wish to keep to a small circle for now. Though, I may introduce you to Miss Prince if I get the chance. I would be curious to hear if your impression matches mine, if so," T'Challa says. He grins back to Steve and waves a hand then as he turns back to let Steve depart. "Next time? You bring your guitar. And we will 'jam'."