1963-12-10 - Go Go Danny Rand
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tchalla danny aneka 


At the Hula, the owners are far less racist than some of the party goers.

Two doors prop open and an entourage full of African swagger enters amid fast paced guitar music. The lights are multicolored and vary in so many different directions it becomes a blur of confusion. From the ceiling, large bird cage-like fixtures hang, filled with women dancing provocatively. There is a dance floor, a live band, a bar, and a more secluded area with large, plushy couches that give some form of privacy. That's where the entourage seems to be headed. Somewhere, within, a young, finely dressed man, the King of Wakanda, is taking stock of the bar.

*

One of the people at the head of the entourage is a dark-skinned woman with straightened hair and a shimmering blue party dress. She looks like she could be up there dancing in one of the birdcages, if she wanted. Apparently, she does not want this. Instead, she hangs close to this young finely-dressed King, occasionally glancing around the room. She wants to tell the King that a venue that supports this kind of tawdry revelry is beneath him. But it is not her place, so Aneka stays quiet for now.

*

Sometimes you go to the dives. Sometimes you go to the nice places. And sometimes you go to the fun places. Danny Rand is still young enough to get away with the last type of place, and she's enjoying every minute of it. She came with the horn player from the band, but he's not the needy sort. After all, he's got a crowd full of potential groupies to look out on. So now, Danny's holding court at the bar, actually sitting on the end of it in a short, bright-green mini-dress with a rocks glass in her hand, her shoes…apparently already abandoned.

*

T'Challa has a smirk on his face, almost that he knows that the mere presence of being here irks much of his entourage. That's no overarching worry, however. They should not be here too terribly long after they have completed their mission.

As they arrive to the bar, the group fans out, leaving the King in front of Danny Rand. "Miss Rand," the King announces. "Our people felt we may be able to find you here. You seem to be away from work, so please, allow me to buy you a drink in hopes we may be able to talk business."

*

Aneka stays by T'Challa's side, just a pace behind him. She looks at the young Madamoiselle Rand with the careful eye of someone assessing a threat — and perhaps flatteringly, Danny is not dismissed out of hand! Perhaps Aneka has heard tales or seen footage of Danny's skill. Or perhaps the Captain of the Dora Milaje simply knows a worthy opponent when she sees one.

*

"Please, Danny." The young woman grins, but she does have enough decorum (just) to hop down from the bar and offer a hand rather than continue the conversation from her perch. "But I hate to tell you. This place? Not so much for the business talk." There's a wink in Aneka's direction, needling a bit perhaps, but good-natured. Oh yes, Danny knows a bodyguard when she sees one, whatever the gender.

*

"If there is somewhere you would rather go, that could be arranged," T'Challa says as he takes Danny's hand. "Perhaps they have somewhere quiet where we can discuss a few matters." He nods to one of his men who begins to fork out money to the bartender for a bottle of his finest champagne.

*

Aneka is far from the only bodyguard present. She's just the one lingering nearest T'Challa. Around the club, there are a complement of similarly (but not identically) dressed African women who don't seem to be there to dance or have fun. Aneka returns the wink with just the barest upnod, so bare that it might not even really count as one. She lets T'Challa act as he pleases, though. Such is the privilege of a King.

*

"Booths," Danny notes, tipping her head toward the back with a rueful smile. "Already have one waiting." Which is - hopefully - where her shoes are, at least. For all the show of just being here for the party, it looks like she's more prepared than she pretends to be.

More than she pretends to be in general, for that matter. As she makes her way through the crowds of dancers toward the booth, she manages to weave through the crowd without so much as brushing a shoulder or making the liquid in her glass sway, almost like she knows where people are going to move before they do it.

Once she reaches the booth, it's a little bit quieter (and there is in fact a pair of white patent leather knee-high boots under the table - no wonder she took those off).

*

The Wakandans form a semi-circle around the booths opening, allowing T'Challa enough room for himself and Aneka, his most trusted bodyguard, adored one, advisor, head of the Dora Milaje. One of the guards plops down the bottle of champagne and a set of glasses.

*

Aneka watches Danny move, and her eyes hood just a bit, like someone observing a magic trick but being able to see just how the magician does it. That doesn't make it any less impressive, though. She stands facing away from the table until T'Challa and Danny get settled, hands folded in front of her, ready to fight off any attackers. What this means is that for at least the first part of their conversation, T'Challa and Danny have a prime view of Aneka's ass, which is pretty damn fantastic. Seriously, check it out.

*

Danny slides into the booth, watching the row of bodyguards as they all line up. "I promise not to, ah…" She pauses, looking back to Tchalla with a bit of a bemused smirk. "Actually, I'm not entirely certain what it is they're worried I'm going to do to you, but I promise I've got no worse intentions than possibly seeing how drunk you can get. You wanted to talk business, though. And I'll be honest, usually I don't talk business, that's what I pay Jeryn for. But one of your representatives expressed some interest in the community center, and the board tells me you don't tell kings to talk to your people so," she grins. "Here we are."

*

"Ah, the drinking can come later, of course. Indeed, we are interested in investing in the community center, but that is not why I came here this evening. Instead, we are looking for a supplier who may consider adding the coating to some of our wiring we are looking to sell to scientific research laboratories. Your company comes well recommended."

*

Danny's brows rise as she works through the math in her head, moving around a few pieces on the virtual business board. She doesn't usually involve herself in the day to day operations of the company, but she reads enough of the reports to know what it would mean. "Well, that's very flattering of you," she says after a moment, taking a sip of her drink. "And depending on the volume, we should be able to handle it. We've got a factory in Yonkers that does some, another outside Pittsburgh."

*

"Pittsburgh may be more centrally located, especially because many of the markets for this technology would be looked at towards the expansion areas in the middle west and the west. We are looking for a company to combine coat our wiring in specific materials and handle shipping costs. After running the numbers, our government has come to the decision that it would be cheaper to go through an intermediary, at least at normal costs. Presuming you are interested, I will have our engineers fly out to meet with yours within a month."

*

Aneka is hanging on every word in the conversation, but she's also watching for signs of danger. The Wakandan entourage isn't necessarily there to prevent Danny from harming T'Challa — they're there to run interference against any drunk patron who wants to put in his two cents about a finely-dressed black man talking to a white woman whose dress is so mini it might actually just be a shirt.

*

"And I assume you've got the tariffs and the import arrangements cleared with the government?" Research might have shown that Rand-Meachum, while not one of the biggest power players on the board, is at least free from scandals about regulation, working conditions, or underhand dealings. They follow the rules, and apparently Danny at least knows the basics of them herself. "I know Wakanda's historically been reluctant to trade outside their borders, just want to make sure we're not entering into something we can't follow through on."

*

"All of that has been cleared," T'Challa reassures Danny. "Over the past decade our nation has undergone a technological revolution based just as much on our engineering as our raw materials. We're looking at ways to expand our reach in the marketplace and we think your company makes the most amount of sense."

Drunk patron? Funny you should say that. A drunk guy in a business suit, thinking he's a big shot, is headed over to the table. "Hey! What the hell is goin' on over here?" he yells loudly.

*

Aneka steps forward when the big shot starts drawing close. "Sir," she says, in an accented but clear voice, "I would advise you to concern yourself with your own affairs." There's a subtle edge to Aneka's words. The rest of the bodyguards don't even move. One drunk fool doesn't require more than Aneka's left hand.

*

"Well, I appreciate your confidence," Danny nods, raising her glass in a quiet salute. "And I'll be happy to set up an appointment with the engineers. And the lawyers. Tell me, is Wakanda as absolutely crawling with lawyers as-" And then there's drunken yelling, and not even the fun sort. She leans over, tilting her head enough to get a glimpse around the wall of bodyguards. "Like the lady said," she grins. "None of your damned business, buddy."

*

"Oh, this is my affair," he says, as he approaches even closer to Aneka and looks like he's going to make his move. A quick pointed hand juts out quick enough to give several of the group pause, but there is no weapon on the end, just a pointed finger. "You bitch! You're a n* lovin' hussy! You shut the fuck up!"

T'Challa is busy rolling his eyes and shaking his head as this goes down. It's unclear if he's irritated as to why this continues to be a problem in this country, or because he knows this guy is walking into a wheelhouse he may not come out of.

*

Aneka grabs the outstretched finger so fast it's like the rest of the room is in slow-motion. As she squeezes, she looks over her shoulder. "My apologies, my King, Ms. Rand. Please. Continue your discussion. This interruption will not last long." Still holding the man's finger, Aneka bends it back, taking the rest of his hand with it, until his finger is pointing behind him and his wrist is almost hyperextended. She uses that leverage to turn his bent elbow in exactly the wrong kind of way. There's no grotesque 'crack' — just a dull popping sound that might get drowned out by the music. All that from just a grip on the guy's finger. "Are you quite finished, sir?"

*

"Don't forget the chinks and the spics," Danny chimes in once Aneka has the man's attention, head tilting as she appreciates the technique. "I'm an equal opportunity hussy." One who doesn't seem terribly worried about people's opinions, either. She takes a drink, still looking relaxed.

*

The mean starts off with the ah-ah-ahs that eventually turn to squeaky cries. In like thunder, out like a light, he pulls back from Aneka trying to get away, "You bitch! My hand?" Apparently T'Challa finds this pretty funny, judging by the smile on his face. "I'm going to have you folks arrested."

*

Aneka releases the man's hand and steps backward. She seems to have no concern regarding his threats. She steps back into line. The eyes of the rest of the entourage fix on him — he's welcome to try his luck again, clearly.

*

"I promise you, even if that works, I will make bail," Danny assures the man with a lazy smile. "And possibly some new friends, come to think of it. Try me." The smile doesn't quite reach her eyes, though. She waits a moment then shakes her head, looking back to T'Challa. "Sorry. Welcome to America, which is…a lot like other places, where different scares the shit out of people."

*

"Let him try," T'Challa says with a laugh. "We have diplomatic immunity in this country." He turns to Danny, "Ms. Rand, thank you for a most eventful meeting. I will have our people contact yours. Likewise, if you'd ever like to meet up again, please do give us a call."

*

As T'Challa's attention is called away by another member of the entourage to discuss some matter of grave importance to Wakanda (again), the Captain of the Dora Milaje glances back at the esteemed Ms. Rand. There's that studious way of looking at her, again… and then she nods, as if to confirm that she approves of something or other about Danny.

*

Danny takes another drink, waving off the angry man and turning a wry smile on Aneka, shrugging. "Assholes are everywhere, I'm afraid," she says ruefully. "I'm Danny, by the way," she introduces herself properly, offering over a hand. "If you can talk while you're on the job, that is."

*

Aneka reaches out and takes Danny's hand. She's strong. They're both strong! Strong. "I am Aneka. I am Captain of the Dora Milaje, the elite guard of King T'Challa." She says it like she might have a few more official titles to share, but doesn't. "You do not behave like what I expected of an American businessperson."

*

"I'm not really much of a businessperson," Danny laughs, grin flashing. "I inherited the business, didn't build it. But I'm also not much of an American, either. Climbing accident meant I spent age nine to nineteen in a remote village in the Himalayas, so. I sort of missed out on most of the American formative experiences after a certain point." She looks back over the guards, quirking a brow curiously. "All women?" she asks, a note of approval in her voice.

*

Aneka nods to Danny's story, but apparently feels no urge to share her own background in turn. Perhaps because her own background does not involve punching a dragon's torso off. "All women," Aneka says, with a similar note of approval in her own tone. "Wakanda's gender politics are as advanced beyond the rest of the world as our technology." Indeed they must be, since Aneka is casually using a term like 'gender politics' in 1963.

*

"Clearly," Danny laughs, though she nods approvingly enough. "Must be interesting." She leans back in the booth, thoughtful for a moment. "Always a bit of a balancing act, isn't it? Knowing more, having more. Seems like the right thing to do would be to share it, but then you come out here and you realize…the world's just not ready for all of it. Too many people holding too tight to the things they know."

*

Aneka's full lips curl at the corner — the tiniest little smirk. She gives Danny a nod, and that smile seems to convey more than her words are willing to. "It is rare to meet somone who understands the Wakandan viewpoint," she says. "No wonder King T'Challa sought you out."

*

"Funny thing about the world. Sometimes there's a place where…" Danny hesitates, trying to find the words. "Old becomes new, science becomes magic, power becomes weakness. I realize," she laughs, "It sounds pretentious. But there's truth in it. But then again, that's the thing about the big truths. You try to put them in words, and you lose the meaning of them."

*

Aneka's smile threatens to grow a bit. "You mask wisdom in your brashness," she says, gesturing gently toward the bright white tall boots, as if they are somehow a totem of 'brashness.' "I find it fascinating. I imagine King T'Challa does as well, since he is much the same way himself."

*

Danny taps a finger to her nose, smile faint. "Welcome to New York City, Aneka. People are going to see more or less what they want to see. If I spent all my time trying to impress a bunch of old white men into believing in who I really am, I wouldn't have time to do anything that was actually important." She takes a drink, finger rising from the glass. "Admittedly, it's also enjoyable and and of itself, but."

*

Aneka watches the glass, her motives her own. She nods to Danny's point, however. "I suppose each person finds sport in their own way," she acknowledges. Acting like Danny doesn't seem to be something Aneka has within her. Then again, she has facial tattoos, so who knows.

*

"All right to be entirely fair, this place is less enjoyable because of anything about it in particular and more enjoyable because people get interesting when they're here," Danny admits, leaning over to get a look at the dance floor again. "This is the sort of place where people come when they want to forget about everything else in their lives. The music's okay. The dancers are a draw for the men. But it's all a show."

*

At the comment on the dancers, Aneka quirks an eyebrow at Danny, but whatever she thinks, she doesn't say. She looks out at the dancefloor with the zillionairess. "And you wish to forget everything else in your life, tonight?" she asks, with seemingly genuine curiosity.

*

"Not that much." Danny takes another drink. "But the rest of the city does." She sets her glass down, empty, with another shrug and a small smile. "I don't usually need that much help forgetting. And when I do…" Trailing off, she looks toward the doors at the front of the club. "This isn't to forget. The real forgetting's things like the community center. Making things better."

*

Aneka folds her hands behind her back. Even in her shimmering blue party dress, even with her hair pumped full of relaxant and straightened out to fit in with American fashion, the Dora Milaje looks like she's steeling herself against some unknowable battle yet to be fought. And so on. "Your spirit is… beautiful," Aneka says, seemingly unsure of her own word choice, and perhaps tensing up. "I believe that is the correct phrase," she adds, calmly passing it off like some kind of 'how you say…?' moment.

*

Danny blinks, looking back with a brief, crooked smile. "Thanks," she laughs softly. "It's a phrase, at least. Maybe a little more flattering than I probably deserve, but I appreciate the sentiment." Setting an elbow on the table, she props her chin up in one hand, looking out over the crowds again. "I sort of…you know how we were saying earlier, about leaving the hidden places? Well. I kind of feel like once you do, once you decide to come out, then you've got an obligation to make it mean something."

*

Aneka purses her lips in thought. She seems to totally no-sell Danny's response to her… phrase, just giving it a simple nod. "Mmm. I wish I could sympathize more, but I am Dora Milaje — my obligations are laid out clearly before me, as is the meaning to my life. I protect the King. I protect Wakanda. Those come above all else. There is no… what is the saying Americans use? 'Finding myself?' I am here, and I am as complete as I will be."

*

Danny chuckles. "Yeah, I get that. There's peace in that, too. I wasn't ready for it, though. So, here I am. Doing something else. And by coincidence, here you are, too. Funny how different paths can lead to the same place, huh?" She reaches for the bottle of champagne, peeling off the foil herself. "Tell me about the Dora Milaje? It sounds interesting."

*

Aneka alternates between watching the people, watching Danny, and giving a subtle glance over to where her King is still engrossed in his conversation about national security or what-have-you. "The name Dora Milaje means 'Beloved Ones.' We come from different tribes of Wakanda, as it has always been. In this, our King shows all tribes to be equal. I was chosen in my youth, earmarked as having great potential. And so it was. When I became a young woman, my life was given to training and service. I excelled. In Wakanda, I am the chief combat instructor of the force. I believe this is why King T'Challa chose me to lead the accompanying group on his trip to America."

*

"You're the Thunderer." Danny says it before she can catch herself, but there's a certain change in the way she looks at the other woman. It's not that there wasn't respect before - there was. She could recognize someone who knew what they were doing. But there's another edge to it now as well, a little bit more formality. The kind that comes from training under someone from a young age herself. "I mean, sure, of course that's why he'd bring you. This place? Full of things that are dangerous in a lot of ugly ways. I'd bring someone I trusted with my life, for sure."

*

Aneka looks over at Danny and raises an eyebrow at the 'Thunderer' comment. She looks like she wants to press Danny as to what that means… but she lets it pass. Danny will reveal it if she so chooses. The change in tone is noted, but on Aneka's end, she stays guarded, like she's holding something back. It's in her body language. "He has brought many," she notes, gesturing to the other Dora Milaje. She breathes in through her nose, and seems to say something under her breath.

*

Danny tilts her head, quirking a brow as she leans a little bit closer to try to catch those muttered words. "Well, you know. It takes an army and all that. Also, shifts. And putting on a show. And things. But that sounded interesting," she prompts, smile flickering. "Something you wanted to say?"

*

Aneka draws in a breath. "I apologize. I was musing… on the irony. Of the 'ugly ways' and 'ugly things' of America being spoken of by… one such as yourself." Aneka seems uncomfortable, but also unwilling to back down. She's no shy lily. "It was out of place for me to say this. Again, I apologize."

*

"Why?" Danny pops open the champagne, not bothering with a flute and instead pouring a few fingers worth into her rocks glass. "I mean, why apologize? Or mutter," she adds with a smirk. "Pretty sure I can take it if it's not flattering. Wouldn't be the first time someone told me I didn't want to hear."

*

"Perhaps I am mostly apologizing to myself," Aneka muses. "At the lack of discipline I have just exhibited, after so proudly speaking of my own status." She watches the champagne pour, but clearly, she's on the job — no drinks for her.

*

"Have to keep an eye out for that outside world," Danny smiles ruefully, lifting her glass to take a sip as she sets the bottle aside. "It creeps in one you quick. You might end up finding a part of yourself you didn't even realize was there before you left."

*

Aneka watches Danny silently for a long moment. It's not an empty stare by any means — much is going on behind the African woman's eyes. Finally, she speaks: "I fear what you say might be true," she says, looking out at the dancefloor. "Something to be vigilant against. In addition to everything else."

*

"Maybe a little bit more. It's the things inside, the things you don't expect, that are the biggest danger." Danny raises her glass, draining the champagne in a few swallows before she reaches down to retrieve her boots. "I should be getting home, though. Have to call in the engineers in the morning, which means I should start cutting myself off."

*

"Be well, Ms. Rand," Aneka says. "I hope our conversation will continue soon." She gives Danny a nod, and then steps back in line with the rest of the Black Panther's entourage, once again assuming her post.

*

"I'll look forward to it," Danny grins, zipping the boots back on before she slides out of the booth. "Take care of yourself and your king." And with that, she's heading back through the crowd, once again weaving through without any real danger of bumping into anyone.

*

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