"Now I see. The demon is me."
Lisa May Stark is so much more than the child she used to be when she and her father were kidnapped in Afghanistan five years ago. She's Iron Man's daughter, she's the Red Raven, she's, well, you know who she is...
isn't it strange? how people can change from strangers to friends friends into lovers and strangers again strange— celeste
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
wakanda october 3, 2016 ( lisa's point of view )
Wakanda was alive with noise and color.
Birnin Zana, or the Golden City, was a bustling metropolis of commerce and music and life. The towering buildings of the city glittered on the mountainside behind us, trains gliding smoothly on rails overhead and the scent of food roasting on carts filling the air.
We moved along with the crowd, a part of the crowd as much as we were separate from it. Two Dora Milaje warriors shadowed us from a distance, blending into the crowd while still keeping an eye out. My sandals crunched in the shifting red dirt road beneath our feet, and the sun above was the most golden I'd ever seen, even in Malibu. There were freckles dotting my nose and cheeks and across Maria's too, and despite being in the heart of the city, the air was still fresh as I breathed it in.
T'Challa and I strolled side—by—side, Maria happily babbling on my hip.
Every time in the past that I had visited with... well, with Dad, it had always been on the outside of the cloaking field so T'Challa had wanted to show us everything there was to see, the capital city and the villages beyond.
I was completely entranced, and Maria wasn't much different. She had a lock of my hair in a vice—like grip, pointing and shrieking occasionally. Her eyes were wide and her peach lips slightly parted, trying as hard as her little body could to take in everything all around her. T'Challa smirked down at her, pointing along with her, explaining everything in a quiet voice.
He was king now.
My T'Challa, now a king.
I always knew that would happen, but it was always 'one day', a far off future, a natural succession.
It felt so strange now that it was an actual reality.
I think we both had silently decided not to mention the rapid changes between us — my being an international fugitive, him being the king of a whole fricking country, amongst a multitude of other things that had made us strangers to each other and who we used to be. It seemed easier to just get on with life than actually try to discuss any of it.
I wasn't sure how long this silent truce was going to last.
Street vendors called out to us, and I followed T'Challa's lead when he nodded hello to the people we passed. Maria suddenly lurched forward again, making another desperate grab for another passing musician. I yelped when I hurriedly tried to pull her back against my chest. T'Challa jolted forward, those instincts making him move faster than me, prepared to catch her in case I didn't.