|Dr. Stephen Strange (doctor__strange) wrote in avengers_logs,|
@ 2020-07-15 14:59:00
|Entry tags:||-complete, shuri, stephen strange|
Who: Doctor Strange and Shuri.
What: Finding herself in a bit of a pickle.
When: Right now, while you’re asleep.
Where: Morningside Park, near Harlem, 4:00 am.
Warnings: Well, Shuri is pissed…
“You’re in Morningside, baby. Like what I done with the place?” The man-boy stood about twenty feet away, his grin visible by the light of a tall lamp post which was one of the few lamps along the path that seemed to be working. Behind him were three other man-boys, who snickered at their friend’s words.
Shuri kept her face toward them, taking a quick note of the landscaped vegetation in her peripheral vision. She seemed to be in a park, which was somewhere in a city because she could hear traffic in the distance, smell the fumes of lingering exhaust that couldn’t escape the confines of the neighbourhood. Then there was the smell of refuse to her right, likely the morning garbage from a nearby street. She couldn’t see many stars due to the light pollution and a muggy, summer haze. There were the soft thuds of small bodies bashing themselves against the lamp above her; the wings of the moths made the light that shone down fluctuate in intensity with each manic flutter.
She stood straight, knees slightly bent, ready to make a run for it if things went from oops to uh-oh. Unfortunately, she didn’t know exactly where she was or in which direction to run, though she was counting on following the smell of the garbage, which meant homes with people inside them. It had been mid-morning in Oakland. She’d been jogging along the sunny street to a little place that made the best lattes - and then, she wasn’t. Here it was still dark, a few hours before dawn, she guessed. So, not in California anymore. Definitely not in Kansas and absolutely no where near Wakanda. This was somewhere on the East Coast of the United States, she thought. One other thing she knew for certain: she was in trouble.
“‘Baby’?” Shuri repeated, her eyebrows rising. “I do not think so.”
The gangsta wannabe stepped closer, but she held her ground. She hadn’t seen a knife or anything, not that visibility was the best, but if he had one, she could counter that. She’d been trained by the best.
“Ooooo, we got us a proud little black bitch,” the man-boy said, stopping about two feet away. Then he leaned closer and added, “If you gimme your money, we might not kill you.”
“No,” she said and took a step back, as if afraid. He grinned again, and it wasn’t pleasant.
“We gonna have fun with you,” he crooned, taking another step - then he was screaming, falling over, clutching at his knee, which shouldn’t bend that way at all. Shuri didn’t take the time to be too satisfied with her kick. She turned and fled.