Savage atmospheres
It mortifies her soul to be circumstantially forced to abide and entertain President Stark's repeated intrusion of her country, for amid global turmoil Wakanda has fortified its foundation as an unshakable rock of repose the world over. And being the Queen Regnant of such sacrosanct land, Ororo Munroe perpetually agonizes over the different courses of action, be they diplomatic or aggressive, to take in the face of a clear affront. She had already since made known her moral and political stance where the conflict was concerned, and her neutrality subsequently reserved Wakanda's position as an inviolate region, unmarred by war and exempt from its consequences, but these drones bespeak a completely different reality. To Ororo, they represent the perversion of nature. They represent the ruthless dissolution of the pact made between Ororo, Stark, Steve and the rest of the world leaders at the previously held summit. Among a plethora of other things, Ororo is tasked with the preservation of Wakanda and its people. Nothing and no one can threaten that. Nothing and no one, as far as she's concerned, will. Prior to her catching sight of these man-made abominations, the skies were relatively clear, and now at the subtle squeeze of her hand, they are instantaneously filled with a tumultuous throng of savage clouds. The clouds assume a shade of lethal black, and the skies roar with a godly vengeance. Ororo is positioned comfortably in the epicentre of this localized but culminating atmospheric cataclysm and her eyes gleam with a startling white. She looks upon the air-bound drone with a contemptuous malevolence, she contributes further to the turbulence and distortion that it's currently facing by agitating the extant electrons that abound the air which disrupts its software. She raises a heavy right arm to the clouds, clenches her fist, and there materializes a devastating sword of lightning that impales the drone. She is not finished. She'd already been made aware of Stark's propensity for tactical overcompensation where his creations are concerned, and the sheer fact that the drone is not only still aloft, but functional after being struck by the most convenient weapon in Ororo's arsenal, is a testament to the gravity of this situation. Not only are outside forces endangering her people, but they are now technologically adapting to apprehension. The drone's prominent camera makes a shoddy attempt at boring into Ororo's soul, and she humours it with a fake demure countenance.
"Tony!", she screams, her voice like the rolling thunder. "You risk sealing a dangerous fate upon yourself by coming here in the guise of this thing." She pauses momentarily, a pause incited by the broiling anger that conspires to overwhelm her. Ororo's empathic connection with the Earth stipulates that her emotions do not spiral out of control, lest the weather be a direct reflection of that distress which would unequivocally hold for devastating damage to the things and people around her. Composure under a steely resolve are emotional and psychological dispositions that she must maintain at all times, for global safety and for the sustenance of the Earth's climatic balance. In other words, Ororo's mutant power demands that she relinquishes herself of heightened feeling and emotion, regardless of the context, so that safety is preserved.
When Ororo received news of her beloved's death she did not how to grieve. She could not comprehend the tumult of morose sensations that rioted within her, and she knew of the disastrous potential of letting that riot loose, so she numbed herself. She desensitized herself from feeling. She turned to stone. But one day Ororo heard the rapturous chorus of the Dora Milaje in song, singing a song very much steeped in Wakandan history. It was a song that T'challa regularly, without ceremony or preamble, sang to Ororo. Whether she or he might have been somewhat irritable or blissfully exuberant or anything that traversed the emotional spectrum of feeling, it was a song that was sang, and it was a song that uplifted the soul. It was a song that exemplified a facet of the love that they shared for each other, and upon hearing that song the floodgates of Ororo's broken heart were opened. And Ororo cried. In response to her tears the clouds themselves wept. It rained consistently in Wakanda for two months.
Now, the clouds drum with thunder and the air is rife with tendrils of lightning. 'I will brook this contravening of our agreement no more, President Stark.', she says. Ororo buoys herself slightly closer to the drone. 'I know for a fact that the intricacies of your infantile quarrels do not warrant your violation of my land, or my people, and this is more than enough.', she says. Ororo unclenches her right fist, and slowly effectuates the ascension of her right arm. 'I tolerated your covert disrespect because of morality, honour and restraint. But you just don't know when to quit, do you?' With a poetic ease, she pulls her hand back, her finger sprawled out. Synchronously, a nexus of lightning and perceptible shards of ice begins to form behind her. 'You kill my husband, you then try to manipulate me and my people and have the audacity to order our cooperation? What a fool you've become, Anthony.', she says. The nexus amasses greater size and presence to the extent in which it becomes perceptibly analogous to a star of sorts, with its blinding luminance. 'What a fool I was to heed your deceit.', she says. Ororo makes a final clench of her fist, and for the shortest of intervals, time stands still. Her fury is immortalized and the ongoing atmospheric frenzy slows to a divine halt. 'As the Queen of Wakanda I am consecrated to make sure she is never conquered as a means of conquest or commodification. I and my people will not ever be subjugated by your whim, Anthony,' her eyes now begin to crackle with fearsome energy, her face is contorted in rage. 'You must remember this.', she readies her final assault on the machination that had ostensibly endured and survived the initial salvo of Ororo's attack. The atmosphere around her is a primal reflection of the anguish wreaking havoc in Ororo's being as she faces the gorgon within her. The weather becomes an amalgamated frenzy of various atmospheric phenomena. It's a chaotic beauty. A savage atmosphere. 'This is the only warning I will tender, and it is the last time we shall merely "speak" upon this. Until such a time has arrived in which I have concluded otherwise, do not ever set foot in my country, Tony. Do not ever concern yourself or your proxies with our matters. And don't you ever try my hand so brazenly as you have been doing, because then I will hunt you and I will find you. And I will finish you, and your war!' she unleashes the tempest, that is such an inexplicable combination of energies that from far down below or in space, it'd appear to be a gargantuan ball of crackling light. It eradicates the drone, turning the former aircraft into a scarcely held together chunk of debris. Ororo effectuates passage into a Jetstream, places the chunk in the stream and sends it away.
Attuning herself to the Earth, she can keep track of the debris' trajectory and preside over its destination. The ambient weather around her is still ferocious, and so she mentally and spiritually composes herself. She stretches out her arms in a spread-eagled formation and interfaces with the heart of this localized storm so as to abate and discontinue its increase. It is a rigorous effort considering the relative lack of restraint put into its production, but she wins, although it taxes her physically. The gamut of clouds disperses and pin-pricking beams of light from the sun pierce through them to Wakanda. Gradually, a substantial amount of clouds vanish and the sun reigns over Wakanda with a parade of light.