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ELEANOR
Wakanda
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The Quinjet landed on an airfield outside what seemed like the administrative quarters of Wakanda. Considered a third-world country, but really anything but was claimed to be one of the most technologically advanced nations in the world. One of the major resources was vibranium, the strongest element in the world, hence making them big conservatives other than in the trade sector. Once the latch to the jet comes down, I was caught by awe at the mere radicality of the nation. Advanced was the last thing I had in mind when I saw the brilliance of the widespread progressions and the cultural zeal of the nation. They had hoverbikes—super cool—and even super-powered drones which circled the facility we stood at.
Steve was the first to disembark, Nat soon following suit. Bruce and I flanked Rhodey's side, who held Margo in the baby carrier. Wanda slowly made her way down behind us, balancing a wounded Vision tentatively. Sam ended the team on the rear. Ahead, the king of Wakanda, T'Challa Udaku, stood motionlessly and a tall, bald-headed woman addressing him inaudibly.
Being an African-based country, the nation prided itself in its brimming culture and their glowing, dark cocoa skins. Women were fierce, trained to protect and never miss their mark. I admired the equality presented in this country, in awe when I realized the king's guard was in fact, all women. They were dressed in red-tunics, intricate details over it—probably vibranium—and honing sharp spears. They wore monotone masks, assessing us strangely.
Bruce leaned into Rhodey, whispering, 'Should we bow?'
I nodded, looking to T'Challa cautiously. 'I believe we should.'
'I'm with Elle,' Bruce agreed. 'Rhodes?'
'Yeah, he's a king,' Rhodey told us with an air of seriousness. I watched as Steve shook the dark king's hand who smile graciously in return. They switched a few words of greeting and leaving us space to introduce ourselves.
