1963-09-29 - To Seek the Panther
Summary: Framed as a murderer in the media, Spider-Man seeks the Black Panther in hopes of clearing his name and reputation.
Related: A Death in the Concrete Jungle
Theme Song: None
peter tchalla 



Spider-Man has been lumped together with a mysterious, unnamed, unknown vigilante as a murderer. And that has to burn, especially for a young man who works so hard to do the right thing. But it is rather compelling, driving Peter Parker to find answers.

The first answer was the name of the man who was killed, the only fatality in that fateful confrontation: Nazim Durand. A French Algerian, an employee of a French Algerian company which turns out to be a military contract agency. Mercenaries. Apparently in the US to bolster security for an Algerian cargo vessel in port briefly, the first time he has been in the United States in almost a decade. The company's usual stomping grounds is all over Africa.

More research followed, as the erstwhile young science-minded photographer does his best to emulate the reporters he works with every day. Looking for African connections, there is the question of the murderous vigilate's appearance: an all-black feline motif. It's not hard to let that suggest a name: panther. Or Black Panther. And Peter's research finally turns up something else: the Black Panther is an icon known by some - only some - to represent the leadership and the protector spirit of the mysterious African nation of Wakanda.%rAnd that connection is what has brought Spider-Man to a rooftop overlooking the Wakandan Embassy in New York City.
*
Spider-Man has been lumped together with a mysterious, unnamed, unknown vigilante as a murderer. And that has to burn, especially for a young man who works so hard to do the right thing. But it is rather compelling, driving Peter Parker to find answers.

The first answer was the name of the man who was killed, the only fatality in that fateful confrontation: Nazim Durand. A French Algerian, an employee of a French Algerian company which turns out to be a military contract agency. Mercenaries. Apparently in the US to bolster security for an Algerian cargo vessel in port briefly, the first time he has been in the United States in almost a decade. The company's usual stomping grounds is all over Africa.

More research followed, as the erstwhile young science-minded photographer does his best to emulate the reporters he works with every day. Looking for African connections, there is the question of the murderous vigilate's appearance: an all-black feline motif. It's not hard to let that suggest a name: panther. Or Black Panther. And Peter's research finally turns up something else: the Black Panther is an icon known by some - only some - to represent the leadership and the protector spirit of the mysterious African nation of Wakanda.

And that connection is what has brought Spider-Man to a rooftop overlooking the Wakandan Embassy in New York City.
*
Perched there in the shadows like some red and blue gargoyle, the Spectacular Spider-Man maintains his place just on the edge of that nearby rooftop. Far below on the street at this time of night the denizens of New York continued their steady shuffle along the sidewalks, across the streets, up and down the roads in their myriad vehicles. It is all chaotic, yet it's not where the wallcrawler's attention is at the moment. No, he tries to focus on that embassy. He looks at each person going in, going out, gauging them against what he remembers of that strong woman's silhouette. Could that be her? No, not tall enough. Perhaps if they were wearing lifts? No, still… the shoulders were broader, or stronger? Perhaps padding.

It's the third hour since he set up for this evening's stake out and the results so far didn't bode well for the rest of the evening. Though there was that span of a handful of minutes when his spider-sense tingled and a young woman almost got hit by a bus. He swung down there and saved her, made sure she was okay, then returned to his perch. He didn't take his eyes off the embassy for more than a moment or two… but still, Peter fretted about it.

Quietly, to himself, he murmured, "This… is probably a bust." Patience never was his strong suit. But he /has/ to find her. The last thing he needs is for the Bugle to harangue him as a killer for the rest of his life. So he waits.
*
Probably a bust. Certainly, even with the fall of night, there hasn't been a figure in black scampering along across the rooftops into or out of the embassy.

But there was a car that left earlier in the evening, and now it is returning. Nothing too exceptional, other than the fact that it is the only car that Spider-Man has seen drive out of the secured garage all evening.

That and the tingle of Spider-Sense intuition. Not impending doom. But as if he is being watched, all of a sudden.
*
At the tingle, Spider-Man does that quick once-over of his surroundings. A turn of his head one way, then the other. It's always a race to identify what is causing the tingle, lives can be in the balance… only now nothing leaps out to the fore. His jaw sets behind that mask, teeth grinding for a moment. He catches sight of that vehicle and decides that may at least be worth investigating. So he flows smoothly, effortlessly off his perch and upside down, crawling along the wall to get to a point where he can make the leap across the way.

When he moves it's soundless, and that preternatural grace of his is impressive as he lands on the wall of the embassy and tries to find a way to get into that garage in time. Yet he can't shake that feeling. Another glance, another look around… something definitely isn't sitting right. But no time to hesitate now.
*
Spider-Man can make it to the roofline of the embassy. From there, shimmying down the wall - given he can invert and move at full speed - is easily enough done. Doing all of that fast enough to reach the gate to the garage before it closes it tight. Very tight. But a determined spider can make it.

And does.

Inside the garage, the lights are off, except right over one parking space, and one on the door which assuredly leads up into the embassy. There are four figures already out of the car; two men, and two women. Both of the women are of a height with one another, and of similar build, though one is a bit thinner than the other. Either could, conveiveably, be the woman in the panther costume.

The two men and the one woman - the thinner of the two - form up a triangle around the second woman, escorting her towards the lit door.

"Why does Markahb need to hear from me at this hour? Interrupting my studies is not the best way to assure my good humor." the woman in the center comments sharply.

And then that shiver down the spine again, as her head turns, peering right through the spot where Spider-Man clings in the darkness of the otherwise unlit garage.

"It should not take long, My Queen. Perhaps we should discuss this inside?"
*
They might see him then as he hangs there upside down with splayed fingertips and toes somehow supporting his weight. But any question as to his presence is dismissed when abruptly he drops from that hiding place and lands in a three-point stance upon the parking garage floor with barely a sound save the faint rustle of displaced air.

And there he is, Spider-Man, in that blue and red costume with those mirrored-lensed eyes affixed on the group of them. He turns his head to the side, taking in the people in front of him as he rises up into a crouch and then lifts his voice. "I'm looking for the Black Panther."

His voice is young, but what's more it's got the timbre of a young man trying to sound older or grittier. Dangerous, perhaps, is the vibe he's going for. Perhaps he even succeeds a little. Then he looks between them and adds, "Any of you know where to find her?"
*
Spider-Man's sudden appearance draws an immediate response, as the triad of guardians each produce weapons almsot instantly. Handguns in one hand, knives in the other, the three immediately close ranks around the woman in the center, and start pushing to get her to the door.

But the woman in the center resists being pushed along. She stands her ground. And she was the one who spotted Spider-Man before anyone else did.

Didn't she?

"And who are you, to come onto sovereign Wakandan soil seeking the Protector Spirit of all Wakanda?" the woman calls out, sharply. Her voice is whiskey-toned, rich, with an accent that is noticeably foreign, but such a facility with the English language and such clean diction that it is startling that there'd be an accent at all.
*
"I'm SpY," His voice breaks, but then he clears his throat as he straightens up to his full and not so considerable height."Ahem, I'm umm Spider-Man." He looks between them and seems ready to move, balancing on the balls of his feet and looking wound tight like a twisted spring. But that tell-tale spider-sense isn't wailing at him, there's no immediate danger, there is no malice. At least not yet.

"I fought beside Black Panther. Thought I was helping her. Not sure if that was the case entirely." Spider-Man's eyelets reflect back their own image to them as he looks from one to the other. "But I think she killed a guy. Thing is… I'm sorta taking the heat for it."

He takes a deep steadying breath and opens his hand towards them, as if trying to calm the situation down. "If your guardian spirit wants me to twist in the wind, then hey. I'll figure out how to handle it. But if she didn't then… yeah."
*
"Spider-Man." that woman offers back. The others resume, briefly, trying to push her to that door, but when she refuses to go, they relent once more, growing more wary and tense, but still not exploding into action. There is that jangled state that tells Peter that danger and violence is barely a hair's breadth away. But no one fires. Not quite yet.

"Very well, Spider-Man. What do you think the Black Panther should do about your predicament?" the young Wakandan queen inquires. "If you are right, and she truly did this thing, surely coming here puts you in danger of similar violence? Presenting yourself uninvited on sovereign Wakandan soil already puts you in great danger of that."

She gestures to the three clearly upset bodyguards. "So. Tell us true: Assuming we could find the Black Panther, or speak to that protector spirit, what would you have us ask?"
*
The fingers of his right hand flutter faintly through their range of motion as he stands there, balanced, ready. He turns his head to the side slightly first one way, then back the other as he makes sure he's got a good angle on the people in front of him. No, there's no jangle of spider-sense warning, but there's such a feeling of potential energy in the air that it keeps him on edge.

"I looked up the guy who died. He apparently was pretty terrible. But still." Spider-Man cocks his head to the side as if getting another look at T'Challa. "Murder is murder. I know this Black Panther person is known as a champion of the people. And the feeling I got from her…" He frowns, swallowing behind the mask, "Is that she's not afraid of things. So this guy crossed her people, and she chased him down. Me, I woulda tried to throw him in jail. But if she's so brave. Well… she shouldn't be afraid to answer for what she did."

He straightens up and tries to set things more at ease by adopting a more relaxed stance, as if trying to level with them. "If she is, then yeah… I suppose we might not see eye to eye next time we meet."
*
As long as Spider-Man keeps moving, the tension ratchets upwards amongst the three bodyguards surrounding T'Challa. But though she cannot possibly be unaware of this, she goes not yield to it, does not speak of it, and continues on unabated. But there is a singing tension to her whiskey-toned, accented voice.

"So, you would have us ask the Black Panther to speak to the authorities? To clear your name for this killing?" T'Challa inquires, sharply without yelling. "If you are right, then she is a woman not of your country, not of your people. Would any of them believe her, even if she said this? Would they not just choose to beat her down, an uppity foreign black woman who dares to defend herself and her people with the same level of force used against them?"

Even amongst heroes, it is rare to find one who understands the true depth of the inherent disparity of race, and gender, in the modern world. The true measure of said supposed heroes comes in how they respond when it is made bald and plain before them. T'Challa watches and waits to see the measure of the mann who is also a spider.
*
"I've lived with bad press before, and I figure I can… well I don't want to, but I can live with this if I have to." Spider-Man rests his hands at his sides, taking a deep steadying breath as he looks again between those before him.

One hand lifts to rest on the back of his neck, clearly awkward and uneasy as he murmurs. "I know they might not believe her, laugh at her, heck even try to bring her in. But if she doesn't at least try then nothing will ever change. If she does try, and they reject her… then I suppose… well that's all she can really do."

His hands lift up with palms open as if to try and bridge that gap between them, to signal his wish for peace in this and in much else. "I can only think, or rather just hope if the positions were reversed I'd do the same."
*
Though none have named her, the Wakandan queen faces the masked hero, and after a long and pregnant pause, she nods her head, just slightly. It's there, but it's neither overt or overly demonstrative. "Very well, then, Spider-Man. You have made your plea, and we have heard it." Did she just use the royal we? Or is she speaking of herself as one amongst the quartet before him? She does not specify. "We will speak with the Black Panther, and carry your message."

There's a shiver that passes through the other three at T'Challa's words. Then they start to move, as if ready to advance on Spidey. "It is time for you to go. This is Wakandan soil. You are a hero of New York City. You belong out there. Not in here." T'Challa offers. Spidey gets fifteen seconds to make his move, before the guards start advancing on his position with real if restrained menace.
*
A nod is given as Spider-Man, a little nervously, lifts a hand in a faint wave and then says, "Thank you, your majesty." At least he picked up on that. And with that said he steps back and points to the exit, and the door that had closed behind him. He asks, "Would one of you mind getting…" He points at the door that he barely snuck through to get in there. Hopefully someone opens it for him.

Eventually, he's able to make his way out, hopping up to climb up the side of the building for a moment. But there's a bare moment before the door closes behind him as he peeks back inside, clearly upside down as he lifts his voice to ask, "I don't suppose you guys validate? No? Didn't think so."

Just as quick as that, he's gone.

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