Joy ride (part1): Stealing

white wolf

The thing that sets it off is, as always, a puzzle.

She just can't stop herself, Shuri knows. It's always been a problem. Something to do with her brian. Always buzzing, asking, churning. Shuri knows she's been incredibly lucky to have been born in an environment that nurtured that inquisitive nature. That had the means and the love to allow it to grow. Still, it's never really felt like a blessing when she was up till two at night as a preteen, with a pounding head, but mind turning and churning and begging for more, more more..

All her doctorates and masters in engineering are pretty much just the result of that brain catching on to some puzzle piece, some sliver of knowledge and refusing to quit until the entire picture was complete. When modern science failed her, and a puzzle piece remained missing, despite her restless nights of research, that is when Shuri's inventions happened. Her addendums and publications in scientific papers—all in fake names, of course.

So, of course it's a puzzle that does it.

The funny thing is, she doesn't see it at first. The real puzzle. The one that is eating her alive now. Yet at first she overlooks it, dismisses it; is blind to it. Like most people are, apparently. It's not that strange, really, that she misses it. Psycholog isn't her main interest, and the puzzle is hidden in plain sight in such an inconspicuous and unassuming way; right next to at least two more puzzles so much more up her alley. It would be fair to say it's a miracle she notices at all. She doesn't, really; not without someone to catch her attention to it. And even that takes another, more unsung genius whose interest do bother psychology: her brother.

She's already working on her puzzle; on the epicenter of it, and doesn't even know it. She is complaining about him, and doesn't even see. Because, as long as you don't look too closely, he is boring. "Courteous, sure, but boring!." Shuri sighs. "I'd have expected a little more from a living legend. Like, I don't know? Personality. A sense of humor. Any general input beyond basic curteries and that polite smile when I crack a joke."

And T'Challa gives that forlorn smile as he puts down his coffee on the low table, looks out the grand open vestibules, and contemplates. "Considering everything it's a miracle..." and then T'Challa, genius in his own right he may be, does the most foolish: he clicks his tongue at himself and looks away. "At any rate, I wanted to talk about the best way to start sharing Wakanda's breakthroughs in medical science with our direct neighbours..."

"Did you just change the subject at me?" Shuri blinks. T'Challa hasn't tried anything so endearing and stupid since she was eight. "You just changed the subject at me!"

The king actually winces. T'Challa is off his game today. "Now why would I do that? You're on the trigger word project too, you'll get the files anyway. I just need your attention on the diplomatic mess that is our emerging country's identity, harboring a group of fugitives from the law, and how to play this without mayhem and chaos."

Shuri glowers at him for a moment, and then lets him; change the subject. Like that would do any good now. Her attention is piqued, and her mind attuned. She will look now.

When Shuri does get the Winter Soldier files, they are gruesome and incredibly voluminous. In a spurt of genius that is her brother, none of the information has been pruned. T'Challa know by now that it's impossible to keep things from her anyway, to hide information from her. Perhaps he hopes to dazzle her with the completeness of the records; every trivia that Wakandan intelligence combined with the might of the Black Widow and Tony Stark has been noted. And Hydra, as disgusting an organization that it is, had been diligent with its research reports.