#and jabari physically does not have the social skill points for that

[echoweaver]

Sims Tag Game

Rules:

1. Pick a sim of your choice

2. Tell us about them

3. Tag someone else (if you want to!)

I was tagged by @treason-and-plot​. My stories are quite G rated in comparison! Ha! I’m not terribly good at tagging others, though...

I think my favorite sim is still Charles from Generation 4 of the Samples, though he has a lot of competition.

Finding good pictures of him turned out to be harder than I expected. I was just expanding my story to include more characterization at this point, and my screenshot technique was terrible. There is a canonical screenshot of him meditating in front of his green energy windmills, and I CAN’T FIND IT.

So here he is meditating by a pond after playing chess.

Name: Charles Babbage Sample When is your sim’s birthday? June 19, 2011 3:15AM (Yes I actually made note of the time. Wish I’d kept it up for later births!)

What is your sim’s zodiac sign? Dude, I don’t think there WERE Zodiac signs in the game when he was played. o.O

Marital Status: Married.

Does your sim have any nicknames? No, actually. Just Charles. not Chuck, Charlie, or anything else. He will be very annoyed.

Do they have a job? He runs is own Sim Fu dojo.

Where does your sim live? He started his (un)life in Sunset Valley, but I fell in love with the custom world of Avalon about halfway through and concocted this crazy idea of playing the rest of my legacy in fantasy world of metallic-skinned elves, so they moved. The legacy is still running there.

Who does your sim live with? At the end of his (un)life, he lived with his wife Veronica, a mad scientist/inventor, his adult triplets Forest, Hunter, and Sky, Sky’s wife, and his first grandchild Dylan. Yeah, legacy household. You know how it goes.

What environment did your sims grow up in? Charles was a ghost baby. His mother Zahra was a scientist without the best social skills who fell in love with the household ghost Cycl0n3. Cycl0n3 was called back to the Netherworld shortly after Charles was born, and Zahra remarried a name-dropping, high-rolling cop who didn’t always treat her right. Charles deeply disliked his stepfather, and it didn’t help that they had essentially opposite personalities.

What are your sim’s favorite food? Charles preferred organic vegetables and self-caught fish whenever possible.

What is your sim’s favorite drink? Nectar when he drank, which wasn’t often. He couldn’t have told you which was the fine nectar and which was a supermarket bottle.

What is your sim’s favorite color? Orange. I guess he was so philosophically Green that he  needed some color contrast.

Is your sim introverted or extroverted? Introverted. His wife was so outgoing that he never reached a point of needing MORE social interaction. He had to guard his privacy.

What is your sims favorite woohoo position? LOL. I find it entertaining that my first reaction is, “Can the guy have some privacy please??” For whatever reason, I’ve preferred to pull the curtain on my sims woohoo lives.

Is your sim a pet person? He adopted a stray cat he named Ghost (ha) late in life, but Pets came out halfway through his life so he didn’t have as much of a chance :)

Does your sim have a best friend? Other than his wife Veronica, he had a childhood best friend Jabari Keaton. Jabari was best man in his wedding, but they grew apart once Charles had kids. Later in life, he became close to Zahn Wu (who was actually Zahn Su of Shan Simla, but I remembered his name wrong so long that I just changed it when I realized). Wu was a major part of Charles’ journey to become a Sim Fu master and helped him establish his dojo.

What was your sim’s favorite school subject? Charles accepted the necessity of attending school, but he always found it an incredibly artificial way to learn. True knowledge was in nature.

Are they planning to go or have they already been to college? Aside from the fact that there was no University then, he wouldn’t have gone anyway.

Does your sim have a favorite TV show: TV is a waste of power, bad for the environment, and an artificial way to entertain yourself when there’s so much beauty outside your door.

Does your sim like books? He reads, but his passion is for physical experiences.

What is your sim’s personal style? Charles personifies Eco Friendly. He was also Disciplined, Loves the Outdoors, and Angler. I’d never had a sim’s traits jump out and smack me with their personality so clearly before. He was a hippie at heart.

(Oh, wait, you meant clothes style?? LOL. Well, hippie goes for that too.)

Is your sim religious? His mom was an atheist, but his father’s ghostliness definitely left him interested in the spiritual. He dabbled in Buddhism but didn’t like to be labeled.

What kind of music does your sim listen to? Chinese Traditional

What is your sim’s favorite type of weather? All of it. He would fish in the rain. He and Veronica slept outside until a particularly cold winter (and the addition of Seasons) left Veronica literally frozen. After she was revived, she insisted that they go inside for winter at least.

Does your sim have a dream job? He was living his dream of teaching Sim Fu.

Does your sim have any siblings? A half sister Ada Lovelace Sample. She was an Insane Artist who married one of the strippers from Veronica’s bachelorette party. They were fond of each other but had to accept that they deeply did not get each other.

Does your sim get along with their family? He loved his mother but found her strange. He didn’t remember much of his father and hated his stepfather. He was passionate about his marriage, though, and did his  best with his kids.

What is your sims favorite hobby? Fishing and camping. But he doesn’t view them as hobbies. More like his lifestyle.

What does your sim look for in a romantic partner? He spent half his life searching for a partner who wasn’t creeped out by his ghostly nature. When he met Veronica (a Daredevil) who thought his creepiness was awesome, he fell almost immediately. Thus was born a true opposites-attract romance, but it worked for them. Veronica actually had much more interest in common with his mom Zahra. Veronica and Zahra were part-rivals/part-besties. I guess it’s true that you marry your parents.

What is a flaw your sim has? He has a strong sense of How Things Should Be and can thus be judgemental and rigid with sims who don’t match that vision. In particular, folks who damage the environment have no place in his life.

Does your sim have a greatest achievement? Founding a dojo and becoming the master of a branch of Sim Fu.

[master-sass-blast]

Strong as Stone --Part Thirteen

*claws way out of the grave* I LIIIVVVVEEEEEE!!!!

Sorry for missing the update last week! I’ve been really sick as of late.

However, better late than never, as they say. So, I present to you --a week overdue--the next update in Strong as Stone!

Last week, we got to see the Festival of Loves --and Dewani and Shuri’s first Pride together.

This week, we celebrate our favorite Princess’s birthday!

Rating: T/PG-13.

Warnings: mentions of death, grieving, mentions of abuse, swearing, angst, a touch of fluff, nudity, and implied sex.

Pairings: Okoye x M’Baku, Shuri x OC, and background T’Challa x Nakia.

Life is a struggle. The river, though it provides for us, also poses a constant threat to our lives. It is full of predators, hidden currents, and sharp stones that could end us all in an instant.

As soldiers of the Dora Milaje, death likely be a constant in your lives. To be a Dora Milaje, you have to be intimately familiar with it –how to inflict it, how to ensure it, and how to save your sisters from it.

However, despite the challenges and presence of death it brings, life is also a gift. It is the flowers growing on the side of the road, the cry of a newly born baby, the spark of a new friendship.

Celebrate life wherever you go, my loves. It is the only true way to keep death at bay.

Okoye allowed herself a small smile as she watched M’Baku’s ship land on the main platform outside the palace.

Normally, she could expect the Jabari chief to fly in for the scheduled council meetings, but those trips always promised varying levels of political jockeying and drudgery. A good amount of time spent on the ass, with too few practical outcomes pay off to justify all the sitting, in her opinion.

This trip, however, was special. Princess Shuri’s birthday was in three days, and Dewani and M’Baku had flown in special to celebrate with the royal family.

No council meetings, unless it was an emergency.

No new missions to be drafted and assigned until the birthday had passed.

No nationwide celebrations, ceremonies, or parades that needed to be monitored.

All that had to be done was cycling the guard rotations –which she’d already worked out.

It was like a little mini-vacation, one that she had been craving lately.

She kept herself carefully composed as M’Baku and Dewani disembarked, went through the formalities of greeting the King and the royal family, and engaged in the usual social niceties of greetings and conversation. Then, Shuri took Dewani by the hand and the two girls darted into the palace, giggling and talking.

T’Challa smiled as he watched his sister and her girlfriend, then nodded at Okoye and Chief M’Baku. “I’ll see the two of you after you’ve had time to catch up.”

Okoye sighed happily as she leaned against M’Baku’s shoulder. “I’m glad to see you.”

“And I you.”

She let her eyes close as he pressed his lips against the top of her head.

They were strolling through the garden in lieu of sitting, ambling along to give them plenty of time to talk and to let M’Baku stop as he pleased to study and admire the various flowers growing alongside the paths.

“It’s been too long since we’ve been able to spend more than a day together,” M’Baku said as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “I don’t like seeing you in only bits and pieces.”

“Well, it’d be easier to see each other if you let the transportation system link up with the Jabari lands,” Okoye said with a teasing smile.

M’Baku seemed nowhere near as amused as she did. “Or you could take a vacation every once in a while.”

Okoye sighed and stopped, tugging on M’Baku’s hand until he turned to face her. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“And it’s more complicated than ‘stubborn Jabari Chief shuns all technology,’” M’Baku shot back. “‘Koye, I love you, but why can’t you give up a little time to see me more often?”

“Because my job is more complicated than that. I don’t just guard the King and sit in on Council meetings. I’m also the woman in charge for all missions involving the King or the Dora Milaje, and I’m one of five people in charge of the War Dogs program. I can’t just… pick up and go whenever I want, especially since the commute to the Jabari lands is so long.”

“…So you weren’t just talking about the commuting system to egg me on.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

M’Baku let out a heavy sigh and pressed his lips against her forehead. “Under any other circumstances, I’d do it, but with my uncle in the picture…”

Okoye kissed his cheek before smiling up at him. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.” She leaned against him as they resumed their leisurely stroll through the garden. “I do have some mandatory time off in a little over a month. If it works for you, I’ll make sure I come see you then.”

“Like I could ever turn you away.”

Okoye smiled, squeezing M’Baku’s hand before letting go as they approached the royal family and Dewani.

T’Challa, Nakia, and Ramonda sat off to the side while Shuri and Dewani stood on top of a sparring mat, each wearing light protective gear.

M’Baku raised an eyebrow as he took the sight in. “What’s going on here?”

“We’re seeing who’s the better fighter,” Shuri said. “Or, we’re trying to, but someone is a little too worried that I’ll shatter like glass.”

“I am not worried that you’ll break apart,” Dewani shot back. “I’m worried that we’ll get into it and that you’ll start complaining that I fight too hard.”

Shuri gave her girlfriend a matter of fact look. “I am a descendant of the first Black Panther. The blessing of Bast runs through my veins. I think you should be more worried about my being too hard on you.”

Dewani, who didn’t look convinced in the slightest, wrapped her hand around one of Shuri’s upper arms, showing how easily she could bring her index finger and thumb together. “Right.”

“Strength isn’t all in how big the muscles are!”

“No, but more mass does allow for better ability to take a fucking hit!”

Shuri rolled her eyes, then pointed to her chest. “Come on, just hit me. As hard as you like, I promise I won’t complain.”

Dewani narrowed her eyes in suspicion, before shrugging and smacking her girlfriend in the chest with her fist.

Shuri bent over, clutching at her chest as the resounding thud of Dewani’s strike echoed off the glass walls of the palace. “Ow! You didn’t have to hit me that hard!”

Dewani threw her hands up in the air, exasperation evident on her face. “What did I say? What did I fucking say about—”

“You hit me on the fucking tit, idiot! Bast, that hurts!”

“Shuri,” Ramonda said in an admonishing tone. “Watch your language, please.”

“Look, say everything you like about your heart-shaped herb. It still doesn’t replace the practical experience of fighting, of building muscle and pain tolerance,” Dewani said. “I didn’t even hit you at my full strength, and you can hardly take it.”

Shuri narrowed her eyes, her face contorting into a defiant expression that Okoye had seen many times before –usually when someone told Shuri she couldn’t do something. “Okay, now you’re just bragging.”

“I’m not bragging. I’m being realistic.”

“Fine.” Shuri held her fists up. “Three rounds. Do your worst.”

“Your sister’s faster than I gave her credit for,” T’Challa said, eyes flicking back and forth.

The three matches had all ended the same way –with Dewani pinning Shuri in some fashion, and with Shuri complaining loudly about whatever excuses she could come up with. After the third match, Shuri had stood with a huff of frustration and challenged Dewani to a game of tag, with the gardens as the fair grounds.

Currently, Dewani was having no problems staying several feet ahead of Shuri, laughing as she ran through the garden with long, powerful strides.

“We lead very physical lives, as Jabari,” M’Baku said. “Anything we can do for ourselves, we do. You’ll never see a machine do something for us that we can’t do for ourselves.”

Okoye bit back an amused grin as she watched T’Challa roll his eyes. She knew that M’Baku was exaggerating the sentiment to get at T’Challa, but that didn’t make the antagonism between the two any less entertaining.

On the path below them, Shuri let out a shout of triumph as she chased Dewani onto a dead end path, blocked on the end by a massive tree.

Okoye watched, equal parts impressed and amused, as Dewani ran up the trunk of the tree and flipped over Shuri, quickly darting back down the path, onto a bridge, and hopping off the side into a stream below.

T’Challa let out a low whistle as Shuri let out a stream of breathless curses. “She’s got some skill.”

When M’Baku didn’t reply with some line about the superiority of the Jabari way of life, the gears in Okoye’s brain started turning. It’s not something he’s automatically bragging about… Dewani’s physicality is something he views as a natural extension of the Jabari lifestyle, but not her parkour and free running abilities…

Silently, she wondered if Dewani had developed her evasion skills during her time with F’Tendi. Logically, it made sense. The abuse she suffered at the hands of her uncle would’ve necessitated evasion skills like parkour, and M’Baku’s silence made it clear that her abilities hadn’t come from any sort of healthy motivation –if they had, he would’ve said so.

Okoye glanced over at T’Challa, and knew by the contemplative expression on her King’s face that he was undoubtedly thinking the same thing.

“I can’t see them over the hedges,” Ramonda murmured as she craned her neck, trying to catch sight of her daughter.

“I doubt they’ll do anything inappropriate,” T’Challa said in fond exasperation.

“No, but they’re booking it down there. I’d hate for one them to get hurt and us not be within easy reach. Besides, it’s almost time for dinner.”

“I’ll go find them, Queen Mother,” Okoye said with a quick bow. She looked up as M’Baku followed her down the steps that led to the lower levels of the gardens. “You’re coming too?”

“Dewani’s my sister. She’s my responsibility.”

“Ah. And here I thought you wanted to spend more time with me.”

“Well, that was the other factor…”

It didn’t take long to find the two girls. As it turned out, they had stopped shortly after they’d fallen out of sight of everyone else. All Okoye had to do was track Shuri’s kimoyo beads.

She rounded the last corner that lay between her and the girls, but ducked back behind the hedge when she caught sight of the two teenagers.

Shuri had tears streaming down her face, and was slumped against Dewani –who, for her part, was doing a good job of keeping her girlfriend upright.

Okoye held up a hand, motioning for M’Baku to stop. She peered around the corner again.

“—overthinking this.”

Shuri’s shoulders heaved up and down as she leaned against Dewani. “I’m not!”

“You don’t have to be the fastest, or the strongest—”

“And what happens when T’Challa steps down from the mantle of the Black Panther? You’re right; I can’t just rely on the heart-shaped herb to fill in the gaps.”

“Shuri.” Dewani gripped her girlfriend by the shoulders. “You’re only sixteen. I’m only sixteen. We are two sixteen-year olds.”

That made Shuri giggle, at least. “I know how old I am, doofus.”

“Good. I was worried that you’d forgotten for a moment, because I can’t fathom a single reason why you’d be worried about taking up the Black Panther mantle.”

Shuri twisted her hands as she stared at her feet. “T’Challa wasn’t expecting to become King so quickly… but Baba died all the same.”

Okoye’s heart sank as she watched Shuri hunch in on herself. She glanced at her kimoyo beads, grimaced when she realized that she had been watching the girls talk for five minutes, and cleared her throat before she fully rounded the corner.

Shuri stiffened as though she had been hit with a tazer, but Dewani was more than ready to react –or, given that it was Dewani, mouth off.

“Don’t mind us. We were just making out.” She gave her girlfriend a ‘what was that for?’ look when Shuri punched her in the arm.

Okoye bit back a laugh as M’Baku gave his sister the stink eye. “The Queen Mother sent us to find you,” he said. “It’s time to wash up for dinner.”

“Here.” Dewani knelt in front of Shuri. “I’ll carry you back.”

Okoye nudged M’Baku in the side as Dewani began carrying Shuri back to the palace, piggy-back style. “Are you going to carry me?”

He shrugged with an easy grin. “If you want me to.”

Dinner had gone smoothly enough –and quickly enough, since Shuri claimed she ‘wasn’t feeling well’ before the third course was even served, retreating to her room shortly thereafter.

Okoye knew that she had to be upset over celebrating her birthday without her father for the first time. The loss of T’Chaka had been shocking for everyone, had even taken her out at the knees when she’d seen the news report.

Still, the specific pain that Shuri was experiencing was distant, even intangible to her. Yes, she’d lost her own father, but she’d lost him so young that she couldn’t even remember his face, much less his name or his manner. There were times –sometimes her birthday, sometimes the New Year—where it would occur to her that she ought to be celebrating with her family –or have family, period—but even those epiphanies did little to crack open the well-papered over pain that she could barely remember. She could see the absence in her life –see the family shaped hole that had been gouged out by Klaue’s actions—but she couldn’t quite connect to it.

Okoye paused from her slow sifting through mission reports to stop and reflect on the loss, to try and connect to it –and, by proxy, what Shuri was going through—better. She dug as deeply as she could, trying to piece together fragments on hazy memories seen through far younger eyes.

All she found was the memory of finding their bodies and howling in anguish.

That, in and of itself, was painful. The only thing she had left of her parents was their death.

A sharp knock on her office door broke her out of her reverie. Okoye quickly wiped tears off her face and cleared her throat before welcoming the knocker in.

Ayo walked in, dirt and soot smudged across her face and expression weary. “Please tell me you still keep a bottle of whiskey in your desk drawer.”

Okoye’s eyes widened as she pulled out a glass bottle and cup. “Should you even be here right now?”

“I’ve already been cleared by two medics. I just want something to drink.”

“I take it the mission didn’t go as planned, then?”

Ayo hissed through gritted teeth before downing half the glass. “Fuck no. Klaue’s associate knew we were coming. Had the entire place booby-trapped with explosives and heat-seeking machine gun turrets.” She went silent for a moment before adding, “I lost two of my people.”

Okoye moved out from behind her desk to clasp Ayo’s shoulder sympathetically. “I’m sorry, but I won’t pretend that it’ll never happen again.”

“I know. I know.”

“It would seem, however, that Klaue’s faceless associate is going to be more of a problem than we had anticipated,” Okoye murmured as she flicked the missions catalogue onto the main display. “What, this is the third mission they’ve evaded us on?”

“Fourth, if you count the dead end in Morocco,” Ayo added before letting out a disgruntled sigh. “Don’t tell me that you’re going to spend the night here, chasing patterns that don’t exist, instead of seeing M’Baku.”

“What makes you think that I’m seeing M’Baku?” Okoye pursed her lips as Ayo raised an eyebrow at her, then gestured to the tight black tank top and even tighter blue and green skirt she was wearing. “Okay, fair enough, and no. I won’t be staying here all night. M’Baku was already expecting me. I just wanted to make sure you got in alright.”

A ghost of affection flashed across Ayo’s face before being replaced with the same heavy bitterness she had come in with. “I’m fine. Go spend time with your man.”

Okoye held Ayo by her shoulders. “If you need me—”

“I am a grown-ass woman—”

“First failed missions are hard. I would know. If you need me, call me. M’Baku will understand.”

A flicker of a smile played at Ayo’s lips –and stayed this time. “You’re a good friend, Okoye. Now, go get laid.”

Okoye snorted and patted Ayo on the shoulder before leaving. “Believe me, I plan on it.”

If there was one thing Okoye had to list as an all time favorite fixture in the palace, it wasn’t the training room –even though it had the best equipment and shock absorbing training mats the world could offer, courtesy of Shuri.

Nor was it the private break room for the Dora Milaje, which had its own privately-stocked coffee bar –although that particular spot ranked high on the list. She was serious about her coffee.

Not even the luscious, immaculately kept gardens could come in at the top of her list –though, she was developing a new appreciation for them, thanks to her time spent with M’Baku.

No, if Okoye had to pick one thing about the palace that she would never, ever change, it would be the beds. They were the perfect balance between soft and firm, layered with gorgeously soft sheets and blankets, and had the best pillows propped up at the headboard –neither too firm or too soft, and always cool to the touch.

Ideal for sleeping --and other things.

Currently, she was sprawled on her stomach across the bed in M’Baku’s guest suite, watching her lover rummage around the room.

A sight to behold on its own, certainly, but made even better by his nude state.

“‘Koye.” M’Baku grinned as the drawl of his nickname for her finally caught her attention. “I asked what you were thinking.”

“Nothing. I’m staring at your ass.”

M’Baku chuckled as he strode back to the bed, rolling her on her back as he kissed her passionately. “And what do your eyes tell you?”

“They tell me that feeling is better than seeing,” she shot back as she groped at his rear. “Roll on your back. I want to be on top this time.” As he shifted to acquiesce to her, Ayo’s face flashed through her mind, unbidden. Okoye frowned slightly as she stilled, preoccupied with worry for her best friend.

“Uh-oh. I know that look.”

“What look?”

“Your mind is being consumed with something, and it won’t stop until you follow the thought all the way through.” M’Baku sighed, but smiled fondly nonetheless as he rubbed his hand up and down her side. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing. I was just thinking about Ayo.”

“Oh, so we’re trying to have sex, and you’re thinking about your best friend. Great.”

“Not like that!” Okoye smacked her hands against his formidable chest as he cackled. “She had her first failed mission tonight, lost two people. I’m just worried about her, is all.”

M’Baku sucked a breath through his teeth. “That’s hard. Do you want to call her?”

“I would, but she’d probably yell at me about hovering.”

“Then you should probably leave it be. Unless you think she’s in danger from herself.”

Okoye shook her head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just that this mission has being an on-going process of frustration and figurative hair-tearing.”

M’Baku propped himself up on one elbow. “How so?”

“Well, Klaue had an unnamed associate that hid some of the vibranium he stole. We’ve tried to track the mystery person down more than once, but they always seem to know that we’re coming. They even had a trap laid down for Ayo’s team tonight. That’s how she lost two people.”

M’Baku’s brows furrowed. “Wait, there’s still more vibranium outside of the country? Klaue had associates?”

Okoye’s eyes widened as she realized the mess she had just stepped in. The King… didn’t tell him… about the missing vibranium.

Granted, it wasn’t exactly common knowledge, but all of the council members knew about the missing vibranium cache that linked back to an unidentified associate of Klaue’s. She had assumed…

Assume makes an ass of you and me.

M’Baku breathed in and out, once, twice, before shaking his head. “No matter. The Jabari do not concern themselves with vibranium. It can be the King’s headache.”

Okoye shot M’Baku a disbelieving look. “You’re dropping it? That easily?”

“Yes,” M’Baku said as he sat up and wrapped his arms around her, holding her flush against his chest. “Because, right now, I have the most gorgeous woman in my bed. The last thing I want to think about is the King and his vibranium headache.”

Okoye chuckled and tilted her head back as M’Baku pressed a trail of kisses down her neck. “Okay, okay. Point taken.”

“I’m so glad you see it my way. So, are you still hellbent on being on top for this round?”

“Yes.” Okoye shoved at his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. “You got to be in charge for the last two rounds. It’s my turn.”

M’Baku laughed. “In charge? Which one of us is a Chief?”

“And which one of us is the indomitable General of the Dora Milaje?”

“Ah, how could I forget? Forgive me, my love.”

Okoye grinned and leaned down to kiss him.

“That went on twice as long as it had to.”

“Did it? Or are you just being grumpy?”

“I’m never grumpy.”

Okoye laughed quietly as she walked through the garden with M’Baku.

The palace had hosted a formal dinner thrown by the Wakandan Society of Scientific Research and Development in Shuri’s honor –a celebration for her birthday. While “formal” by technical definition, it had been a far sight more enjoyable than nearly all of the formal functions she’d attended while travelling with the King.

“Was it really so horrible?”

“Oh, I suppose not. It was kind of them to give her recognition for all her efforts in advancing technology and to celebrate her birthday –especially with this being her first birthday since T’Chaka’s death.”

Okoye hummed in response as they strolled under the cover of the night sky. “So, what has you so grumpy?”

“It was just so… confined. Everyone at separate tables, no one mingling or talking outside of the people they were sat with.” M’Baku looked down at her with a worried expression. “Is that how you celebrate birthdays down here?”

“No. Tonight was just a formal event. Granted, each tribe has their own traditions pertaining to birthdays, but there’s generally a celebration with the immediate family on the day of, then a celebration with the extended family and close friends the next day, and a celebration with the village at the end of the week.”

M’Baku raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That sounds very similar to how we do things in the Jabari lands.”

Okoye grinned and elbowed him in the side. “See? We’re not so different after all.” They rounded the corner that led to the palace, and Okoye stopped so quickly that M’Baku almost tripped over her. She quickly nudged him back around the corner, stepping out of sight before they were seen.

Shuri and Dewani were sitting on the steps that led to the palace. Shuri was sitting in the circle of Dewani’s arms, sobbing loudly.

“I think you’re still overthinking all of this—”

“I’m not!”

Okoye retreated further, ducking behind a tall hedge as Shuri tore herself away from Dewani to stagger down a couple steps.

“Shuri, perfection isn’t possible. It’s just… it’s just not.”

“Science hasn’t proven that it isn’t!”

“Okay, but you always say that anything can be improved upon—”

“And, someday, I’ll hit the point where it can’t be! And then things will be perfect!”

Okoye grimaced as she listened to Shuri’s hoarse, hysterical screaming. She glanced back at M’Baku, only to find that he was wearing a similarly somber expression.

“Shuri, I don’t doubt your genius or abilities, but that’s a heavy burden to put on yourself –it’s not one you deserve.”

“Do you think I have a choice?” Shuri shouted, anger and pain making her voice crack. “Look at what happened to my father! If I had designed the necklaces sooner, then he would’ve lived.”

Okoye frowned as pang of sympathetic pain shot through her chest.

M’Baku let out a quiet hiss. “I had no idea she blamed herself so heavily for her father’s death.”

“Neither did I.”

“Shuri.” Dewani’s voice sounded from around the corner, soft and sad. “It’s not your fault.”

Shuri was silent for a moment. Then, in a quiet, broken whisper, she said “I have to be the best, Dewani. I’ve learned that the hard way.”

Okoye was between deciding whether to take one of the other paths out of the garden or two step up and comfort the Princess when M’Baku stepped past her without warning.

“Trying to be the best is a path that only leads to nervous break downs,” M’Baku said as he settled himself onto a step next to Dewani. “I would know.”

Shuri stiffened and puffed herself up to her full height, clearly caught off guard and uncomfortable with M’Baku seeing her in such a broken down state. “Would you, now?”

“Absolutely. When my father died, I felt the burden of his death so keenly that I threw myself into the idea of being a perfect Chief. It sucked so much out of me that I didn’t notice my uncle’s atrocities until it was literally pointed out to me.” M’Baku sighed heavily as he shared a bitter grimace with Dewani before refocusing on Shuri. “Perfection, being the best… they aren’t worth the toll it takes on you and the people around you.”

Okoye let out a deep breath and stepped out from behind the hedge. “He’s right.” When Shuri turned to face her, Okoye did her best to keep from snapping into her on-duty posture. “There are always going to be wrinkles in any plan, things that happen that you couldn’t have seen coming. You learn from them as best you can, but nothing can ever be one hundred percent perfect.”

Shuri shook her head, her braids whipping back and forth. “No! No, there’s a difference! There’s a difference between failing a mission and losing your father!”

“Yes,” Okoye agreed gently, “there is. But that doesn’t make it your fault.” She gently, almost gingerly, placed her hands on Shuri’s shoulders. “Your father’s death was the fault of the man who set the bomb. None of the responsibility falls to you.”

Shuri stared up at her, eyes blazing with barely held in pain and glistening with unshed tears. Then, her lower lip started trembling, and she crumpled against Okoye as she started crying anew.

Okoye caught Shuri in her arms and patted her back. “Come on, Princess. Let’s go find your mother.”

Okoye smiled serenely as she watched Shuri banter back and forth with Dewani. And so, a new day brings new joy.

The royal family, M’Baku, and Dewani were seated around a wooden table in the center of the garden, enjoying a quiet lunch to celebrate Shuri’s seventeenth birthday.

Ramonda clasped her daughter’s hand as the servants cleared away the last of the dishes. “Well, my dear, I think it’s time to give you your gifts.” She picked up a smooth black box tied with a gold ribbon from the seat next to her. “Your father and I picked this out for you shortly after your sixteenth birthday. I know he’d be so proud of the woman you’re becoming.”

Okoye didn’t miss the way Shuri’s smile faltered or the way her hands shook as she undid the ribbon and opened the box.

Shuri gasped softly a lifted a gorgeous black and gold beaded necklace out of the box. “It’s beautiful.” She managed a smile for her mother, but her eyes glistened with barely contained tears. “Thank you.”

Ramonda smiled back, eyes equally as wet, and kissed her daughter on the cheek.

T’Challa gave his sister a cropped black leather jacket that Shuri looked over appreciatively before sliding it on.

Nakia gave her a pair of bright purple wedges that the Princess squealed over before putting them on in place of the shoes she was already wearing.

The King groaned as Shuri modeled her new shoes for Dewani. “How do you always end up picking the better gift?”

“There are some things you just have to be a woman to know,” Nakia said with a smile.

M’Baku gave her copies of agricultural studies and genetic modification conducted by Jabari scientists.

“It’s a wonderful gift,” Shuri said. “Thank you, Chief M’Baku.”

Dewani handed Shuri a gift that had been carefully wrapped in light purple paper with a shy smile. “Here. I made it myself.”

Shuri’s happy smile shifted to one of mild confusion as she opened the box, forehead creasing as she ran her fingers over the intricate leather cover of a massive book. “You made this?”

“Well, I didn’t do the binding, but everything inside –yeah. I made it.”

Okoye craned her neck to see the pages as Shuri casually flipped through the book.

There were illustrations, sketches, poems, pages of ramblings, thoughts on Jabari life, and what looked like intermittent diary entries.

Okoye allowed herself a small smile. Well done, Dewani. You’ve given her an amazing gift.

“I love it!” Shuri squealed, eyes wide with amazement as she brushed her fingers over the pages with the reverence of a scholar.

“Really?” Dewani asked, slightly shocked.

“Yes, really!” Shuri pressed her lips against her girlfriend’s cheek in an enthusiastic kiss. “It’s like you’ve given me a look inside of your brain! I love it so much! Thank you!”

Dewani looked up at Okoye as Shuri pulled her into a hug and mouthed a quick “thank you” in her direction.

Okoye shot her a wink back, along with a grin.

Okoye glared sharply at Ayo’s mission report, scanning it line by line.

--we approached the suspected warehouse once the sun fully set. Scans indicated there were sixteen life forms inside, but upon entry the warehouse was barren.

Okoye frowned. So, they can fool our scanners. Klaue’s associate is definitely testing the limits of what vibranium can do. She pulled up her notes on the other missions they’d run to try and recover the last of Klaue’s stolen vibranium.

There were consistencies among all of the three missions. Each time, the location they’d discovered had been empty when they’d found it. Each time –when they’d had more than enough evidence to prove that Klaue’s associate would be there—everyone they’d surveilled at the location was gone, with no signs of anyone having been there at all. Each time, the vibranium was gone as well.

We know it’s not the men Klaue had working with him during Ultron’s uprising, Okoye thought as she sat back in her chair. Nor is it anyone we had on record working with Klaue –or N’Jadaka, for that matter.

Who could it be, then? Who had they missed? Was there a mole in their operations? A Wakandan that had sided with Klaue and was feeding their mission information to the unnamed associate?

Or an American, Okoye thought with a sinking stomach. Agent Ross knew about Klaue’s access to vibranium.

Perhaps it would be worth contacting the agent again, seeing if she could get information about Klaue out of him.

Okoye flinched at a sudden, harsh wrap on her office door. “Come in,” she said, quickly dismissing the displays of the mission logs and her notes.

The opened a crack, and Shuri peeked in, a shy expression on her face. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Princess.” Okoye stood quickly and bowed, doing her best to conceal her surprise. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Call me Shuri, please,” she said, stepping over the threshold of Okoye’s office. “I’ve been ‘Princess-ed’ more than enough for one day.” She gestured to the chair that sat in front of Okoye’s desk. “May I sit?”

“Of course.” As they sat down, Okoye grinned when she realized that Shuri had Dewani’s book tucked under her arm. “I see you have the book.”

“I’m not even halfway through it yet. She put so much in here. Dewani said…” Shuri hefted the book. “She said this was your idea?”

“I suggested she make something for you. The book was all her idea.”

“Well, thanks for inspiring her. Having something like this…” Shuri’s voice trailed off and her eyes started glistening. “It’s made today easier.” She cleared her throat. “There was something Chief M’Baku said I should talk to you about.”

Okoye raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What was that?”

“He said that you would understand what I’ve been through—”

Okoye’s heart dropped. He didn’t.

“—because you’ve lost your friends on missions before.”

Okoye did her best to conceal the depths of her relief from Shuri. He didn’t. He left it as your choice. He didn’t tell her. “I have…” She hesitated, then pressed on. “But I suspect the Chief was thinking of something else.”

Shuri frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I lost my parents in the explosion set off by Klaue,” Okoye said quietly.

“I… I had no idea.”

Okoye waved her had dismissively. “There was no reason for you to. It’s not common knowledge.”

“So… you do understand.”

“To an extent, yes. I was six when I lost my parents, so I don’t remember them as well as you remember your father.”

Shuri let out a weak laugh. “It’s strange, isn’t it? No matter how similar the loss is, there’s always something to make it different from all the other losses around it.”

“The river of life flows differently for all of us.”

Shuri ducked her head as she held onto Dewani’s book like it was the only thing keeping her afloat in the wake of her grief. “Does it… does it ever get better?”

Okoye studied the Princess –her shaking shoulders, bowed head, and white knuckle grip on the book—before answering. “Yes.”

Shuri’s head popped up, eyes wide and tears trickling down her cheeks. “Really?”

Okoye nodded. “But it takes time.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“I know. Unfortunately, it’s true.”

Shuri sniffed loudly and swiped at her nose with the back of her hand. “Do you still miss them?”

“Sometimes. Mostly around my birthday and the New Year.”

“Well, at least you have the rest of your family.”

Okoye grimaced, then shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

Shuri frowned. “Were they killed in the explosion as well?”

“I don’t know. I ran away after my parents died and went into the Dora Milaje program when I was eight. I’ve never heard from the rest of my family.”

“Then… where do you go during New Year’s?”

“I have an apartment in Birnin Zana.”

“Don’t you ever get lonely?”

Okoye shook her head. “Not often. My friends in the Dora Milaje keep me company –and M’Baku keeps me company when they can’t.”

“I feel sorry for you,” Shuri said after a moment. “I don’t think I would’ve made it through this without my mom and brother.”

“Just because I am an orphan doesn’t mean I don’t have a family,” Okoye said. “Mine just doesn’t share any genetics with me.”

“Well, I’m glad you have people to care about you.” Shuri smiled, wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks, and stood. “I think I’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you, Okoye.”

“Any time… Shuri.”

Shuri nodded, started towards the door, then stopped. “If—” she turned to face her once more “—you ever want help finding the rest of your family, let me know.”

Okoye smiled, and nodded. “You’ll be the first person I talk to.” She sat back in her chair and let out a sigh as Shuri closed the door behind her. But first, I have to figure out how Klaue’s associate keeps staying a step ahead of us.