Sep — Roleplayer Guild

@Sep I'm currently writing my opening (Now that my area is no longer suffering from 22c at night with 90% humidity) I'm starting with the scene of T'Chaka handing over his public affair duties to T'Challa. I'm going with the idea that Wakanda is disguising itself as a Third World country that nobody cares about and only ever gets mentioned during Red Nose Day and Live Aid and other events like that. I imagine that T'Challa and the Wakandan Royal Family would get a "Look how inclusive we are and how much we care about the Third World!" pity-invite from Stane?@mattmanganon

I feel like it'll be easy for Wakanda to be there as like real world high profile funerals basically anyone who is anyone can go along 

Obadiah Stane walked down the long walk towards the main building within the Stark Enterprise compound. His phone in his hand, earpiece held securely in his ear, speaking as he walked. "No, I wouldn't worry about the security of the project, I assure you, if anything today's news briefing will increase your budget." The bald business big shot rolled his eyes at whatever was said on the other side of the phone call as he neared the security gate, taking a sip of his coffee with his left hand he slipped his ID between his forefinger and thumb, pulling it out and flashing it with his phone hand. 

The security guard nodded and waved him through. He took a couple of steps -

Knocked from his feet, his phone and earpiece were sent flying as the shockwave hit him. Coughing up the dust as he lay on his back, near the checkpoint he had just passed. Obadiah became aware of blurs of movement in his vision, swirls of colour among the greys and browns of his reality.  A dull tone pierced through the ringing in his ears, he sought it out and focused on it. Bringing his attention down upon it. "Sir, Sir! Are you okay?" He felt them now, hands running over him as the security guard returned to focus. Feeling for wounds and fresh blood. As clarity returned, the numbness faded. The pain spiked, bringing lucidity. 

He turned his head, his vision swaying as he did so. All around, the dust hung in the air, people groaned and tossed and turned in pain. Others limped away lazily, others just sat completely still. His attention turned to a pair of reporters who hadn't been allowed access into the venue, whose credentials had failed to clear. They were now feeling pretty lucky as they pulled themselves together and raised the camera towards the scene of carnage and destruction. 

Obadiah forced himself to his feet, pushing the security guard off him. He stood and started fighting his way towards the building. Roaring at the top of his lungs. "TONY!" Catching a glimpse of the camera turning in his direction, he forced himself onwards, occasionally stumbling and catching himself on rubble. His favourite Tom Ford ruined, his coat torn and in tatters and yet he still had to stop himself from smiling. His picture would be the front page of every paper in the country by tomorrow morning. 

The King is dead. All Hail the King.

WARNING: SUIT SYSTEMS COMPROMISED
//WEAPONS: OFFLINE
//FLIGHT SYSTEMS: OFFLINE
//TACTICAL SYSTEMS: OFFLINE
//COMMUNICATIONS: OFFLINE
//POWER SYSTEMS: FAILING
//LIFE SUPPORT: FAILING

Jim coughed, and as he did, he saw stars. The pain jolting him awake. As he coughed, he tasted copper and bile in his throat. His skin felt sticky and wet, and then the smell hit him, and he had to refrain from gagging and choking. A very hot shower was in order, he blinked his eyes several times trying to clear them. As his vision cleared the BEEEEEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEEEEEP continued to get louder. Realising that his vision was working, and that there was just nothing to see, he croaked his command. His voice rasped and was hoarse. "Visor." He coughed as nothing happened. "Visor, up."

His voice echoed, and not for the first time he couldn't escape the feeling of being buried alive. Starting with his little toes, he slowly stretched and explored the muscles in his body. A fresh jolt of pain raced up his spine as he attempted to move his left knee. When he did move it there was very little movement in it as the armour pushed up against something. Broken and pinned. His scream rattled his ears as he attempted to twist his left wrist, and his entire arm flared up in excruciating pain. He could feel his flesh tear and break. The good news was that if something had pierced the suit that meant that he had a fresh supply of air if his life support was offline, which it likely was. His right arm, while in pain, moved. Wheezing slightly, he slammed it down on his faceplate, grabbing into it he felt the creak of the metal, and winced as he ripped it off, throwing the faceplate away.

Jim coughed and spluttered as his face was instantly assailed by dust and debris, shaking his head and blinking his eyes he sat up as best he could, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dark. A lump of concrete was on his left side, from his legs to his lower chest. He could see the rebar that had pierced the suit at the join of his elbow. The fact that he could move his elbow ever so slightly at least meant that it had not tore through his joint. Which was good news as he would likely have lost his forearm if that were the case. Servos clicked and whined as he brought his right hand up in front of his face, palm down he surveyed the repulsor.  With a slight twitch of his pinky, he waited for the telltale blue glow to light up his hand. 

The emitter remained dark, and Jim swore. Pushing as best he could he positioned himself at an angle where he could see the chest piece, and his heart sank. A shard of metal had burst his reactor. Through material that could easily survive a rocket strike. His memory was foggy, the events before the explosion just out of reach. Whatever had exploded had an insane amount of force. He'd be surprised if anyone else who had been standing in that room had survived. The despair clawed at him, but his reasoning wouldn't let it take hold. He was still alive, and he was still in danger. 

"Hold it together Rhodey." He chuckled, the action rattling his chest turning to a cough. "So you're talking to yourself now, and calling yourself Rhodey. Well, what do we need?" The answer to that was simple. He needed to free himself from the debris, once he was free he could either look for a power source for the suit or eject and try and find his way back to the surface. 

Aim High

Rhodey still had power, reserve batteries that couldn't power some of the suits' more advanced systems; however, at his insistence, the Patriot armour was also packed with conventional weaponry, which was not advanced. A couple of flicks of his fingers, there was a click inside his gauntlet as a machine gun attempted to deploy. It cracked open, but not fully. Slamming his fist against debris, he coughed as a fresh layer of dust fell down. The gun popped out. Twisting his arm till it hovered over the concrete, pinning his arm, he made a solemn vow that if he ever wore this armour again, he would pack earplugs.

His hand tightened into a fist, the bullets exploded from the gun, filling the darkness with flashes of light. The cloud of dust grew, and he screwed his eyes closed, focusing all his energy on the effort of holding the gun steady and level. His ears were ringing as the sound reverberated in the small space, pain erupting in his skull as the sound rattled around inside his body. "One, two, three, four, five" It was hard to hear himself count over the din, but after five seconds, he opened his hands and the gunfire stopped. He tested a breath through his nose, and when all he inhaled was dus,t he continued to hold his breath until his lungs burned. Fighting every urge in his body, Rhodey took as small a breath as possible. Once it was safe he took another, and another. 

Wiping his face as gently as possible, he opened his eyes, the collapsed wall had shattered under the assault. Using the enhanced strength of the gauntlet, he managed to break off any remaining concrete on the rebar, before twisting it as close to the arm as possible, turning it into a band that clung to him. Able to stand up he reached behind himself and did the same to the back of the bar to the best of his ability. Moving freely he bit through the pain as using both arms he lift the remaining debris on his left leg enough to shimmy himself out from under it, pushing himself to his feet, he kept as much weight as possible on his right leg. Barely able to see through the dust, he could see the sparks and spurts of fluid coming from his leg. He just hoped it was hydraulic and not blood, or this would be a very short escape attempt. 

Climbing very carefully through the debris he tried to find a piece of wall that was in the correct position, or a piece of clear flooring. Anything that would give him an indication of where he was concerning the room he had been in. There was no telling with an explosion of that force where he had ended up, he could be in the basement, the same room as before or several rooms across. Had the explosion taken down the whole building? In the gloom, he saw several blank faces, eyes open. Limbs sticking out of debris, most burnt beyond recognition. Then he heard it. 

BEEEEEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEEEEEP, BEEEEEEEEEEEP

Except this time it wasn't coming from his suit, it wasn't close. He limped as gingerly but as quickly as he could. He could see a pulsing blue light now, the silhouette of a man. The blue light appeared to be behind him, as he fought his way closer, pulling debris out of his way as he climbed his way higher. No the light wasn't coming from behind him it was - Rhodey fell to his knees as he approached. The light coming from the chest of his best friend. Tony Stark. What appeared to be a thin red and silver War Machine suit clung to him, burnt to his flesh. The metal scarred; it jutted out at awkward angles as if it hadn't properly sealed before the explosion.

Rhodey placed his hand on his fallen friends chest, Tonys eyes lost behind the mask of the suit. Rhodey dared not pull it off. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you Tony." His hand on Tonys chest curled, and found purchase. "Maybe you can save me one more time-" Rhodey grabbed hold of the reactor, twisting it slightly. Forcing passed the point of resistance. "-and I promise I'll do everything in my power to save your legacy." He pulled, and the arc reactor came free from Tonys chest, into his hand. It sparked and fizzed for a moment before it settled again into its steady blue glow.

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