14300/Hellfire and Water

Hellfire and Water
Date of Scene:	02 March 2023
Location:	VIP Lounge - Hellfire Club
Synopsis:	At the Hellfire Club, the King of Atlantis meets a lost subject.
Cast of Characters:	Emma Frost, Namor, Ariah Olivie, Nerissa

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Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost is currently late at night sitting over in one of the rare open areas in the VIP Lounge rather than a private booth. It's a sign of power that she's got the area to hereslf. Even iwth not being a member of the Inner Circle, power and money still let things be flaunted. She's sitting back and sippingon her while, listening to a violin play

Namor has posed:
Perhaps then it is a sign of power for Namor to find himself in the same lounge.

"Care for company?"

Namor was not wearing his usual Atlantean regalia. Instead, he wore a three pice black suit with a lovely red wine in his hand, a swirling motion rotating the liquid to watch the legs form when the sinful liquid settles. He turns his eyes to the violinist as he steps closer, taking a look at the beautiful Emma Frost.

"You look lovely tonight."

Emma Frost has posed:
Well, of all the people that she expected to meet in the club that were members, the King of Atlantis is one of those rare ones. At least, not without an entourage. Or by reputation, at least, accurate or not, coming through the wall. She would bow her head after a moment.

"But of course. Please do tell me what brings you to the Club itself if you don't mind my inquiring?" Oh yes, this would prove interesting..

Namor has posed:
"It's nice to be away from Atlantis, every now and again. The weight of the crown is still heavy on my brow."

He draws nearer to Emma, taking a seat on the couch beside her as he relaxes into the seating. "Besides, your beauty is always a sight to behold." He teases her. Though the bow of her head was met with an acknowledging look in his eyes. "I'm here to relax, Miss Frost."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would nod, "But of course." There's no sort of attempt by Emma to call him by any sort of royal perogative. "So what brings you then to the den of the Hellfire Club? Some sort of intriqgue? If you're looking to relax, then this place thrives upon it."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    The HFC is always a good place to go when you've got an interesting guest. Or an interesting need. Tonight, for Ariah, it's the former. After recovering Nerissa and keeping an eye on her in the hospital, she's bringing her out to the Hellfire Club. That's quite a difference in venues.

    The small woman, all four foot ten of her, is wrapped in a pair of pants and a jacket that's very reminiscent of a military uniform. And against all odds, the woman she's bringing with her is actually... shorter, which is a rarity indeed. "This is a place where we can speak openly, and perhaps come to figure out what you wish to do moving forward, oui?"

    She's speaking with Nerissa as she enters, though her sharp supernatural hearing can detect the voices before they enter the Lounge. One she recognizes, one she does not.

Nerissa has posed:
    The shorter woman tilts her head to one side in curiosity, but nods in compliance as she enters behind. "Moving forward is better suited toward those born under the Shark, but I understand your meaning. Progress is necessary in order to accomplish a meaningful existence."

    She pauses at the new room and new faces, unsure as to what she should do in the strange situation. Her eyes dart from Namor, to Emma Frost, to the furniture, trying to take in everything and reach a conclusion.

Namor has posed:
Namor nods softly to Emma.

He shrugs. "I hold an esteemed membership. It would be a grand shame if I let it go to waste." Namor grins teasingly at Emma, even as eyes drink in the ambiance of the room. The dancers that are heard a few rooms over, the gasps and cheers, the calls for more drinking. Namor hears it all. He takes a deep breath, letting his head fall back.

That is, until Ariah arrives properly with Nerissa. He turns his head to look upon them both, a brow raising. "Hello." He greets them both softly, before his eyes settle more fixedly on Nerissa.

"...interesting."

Emma Frost has posed:
Emma Frost would nod over at Namor, "But of course." She would carefully say to the lord of Atlantis that there had beeo so many stories about, accurate or not. but still, one to always be cautiuos of. Ariah that she's seen in passing gets a light not. Nerissa that she's not familiar with gets a quick look of examination.

"And what, pray tell, has your attention then?" She glances to the two to see what has piqued Namor's interest even as Emma looks over with a bit more focus rather than her normally routine dismissal.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    The small witch nods, adjusting her coat some. "Exactly," Ariah says quietly. "...I may be... ageless... but I seek to enrich my life through knowledge and new experiences. I am pleased to have counted meeting you as one such experience, despite our difficult first meeting." Her accent is thickly French and may be considered difficult to understand if she goes too quickly.

    When she gets a good view of everyone in the room, though, she purses her lips in a frown. "...Your Majesty... I did not realize your esteemed personage was here in the city, let alone the Club," the vampiress states, giving Namor a formal bow of her own, then glancing back to Nerissa.

    "...this could be fortuitous or... not..." she says, icy and even tone oozing with a hint of concern now.

Nerissa has posed:
    Standing just over four and a half feet tall, Nerissa's short stature would cause most people to either take notice of her, or easily look her over. Well, they would if not for the sea green skin that can be seen on her exposed hands, feet and face, the rest of her body covered in a purple skinsuit covered in white, Atlantean sigils. Her eyes widen, her pupils shrinking into pinpricks at Ariah's greeting of royalty, showing off more of her coral pink iris. A pair of fin-like protrusions where a human's ears would be start to wobble and twitch at the situation, a typical sign of worry and confusion in some Atlanteans. Following Ariah's lead, she offers Namor a bow of her own, though refrains from speaking for the moment.

Namor has posed:
"It would appear as though we have company."

Namor remarks with a serious look in his eyes, though he turns slightly to look back at Emma. "One of them appears to be a citizen of mine." Namor rises from where he was seated, turning his eyes to look at Ariah for a moment. "It was a surprise visit. I don't blame you for not knowing of my comings and goings." Lest she be a member of his court!

But his eyes turn to regard Nerissa now. The bow given to Namor seems to satisfy him for the moment. "I take it you are enjoying your time away from Atlantis?" He questions of Nerissa. Though there is a sudden pause after he speaks, as if silently asking for a name.

He turns and looks at Ariah. "Did I hear 'ageless'?"

Emma Frost has posed:
And as the two go to speak over, Emma Frost goes to watch over and then muses at Ariah, sipping from her goblet of wine, "You know that speaking that line essentially guarantees that something ill will occur, right?" The snark and cynicism that defines much of her public persona coming out in a large show of amusement as she would turn back an dforth to watch the two while sitting back in her seat, turning more over to face them.
    "And aren't you two almost adorably child-sized."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Far be it for Ariah to speak for Nerissa in the matter of introductions, but she turns turn her head to the smaller woman and politely intones, "...he is the current Emperor, Namor of Atlantis--" a beat "--your Emperor..." she explains openly, then looking once more to Emme and the Emperor Himself.

    "My apologies, your Majesty. She is under my care after a unique incident," she explains, though clearly indicating that she is indeed under the small woman's protection as well. "And oui, ageless. I am a witch. I have been this size and shape for eighty years," she leaves out the not-so-small detail of being undead, of course. The words seem to be directed somewhat to Emma as well, however, to suggest that while she is small and adorable, she is also quite old.

Nerissa has posed:
    Upon the revelation that Namor is her own emperor, Neriss drops to one knee, a fist going over her heart as the other touches its knuckles to the ground. She immediately starts to speak in her native tongue, and while Namor recognizes it, the dialect is very old and very formal. "Hail to mine emperor, they who ruleth over the waves above and currents below. May our Sovereign's days be filled with glory, may thine enemies serveth as fodder for the empire, that the lands expand and thine mightiness be strengthened, and may the days of peace rendereth our eyes ever-watchful for those who lurk in the darkness."

Namor has posed:
"Nearly always."

Namor remarks to Emma with a small smile. Before his eyes fall to Ariah, his hands clasping behind his back as Emperor Namor stands tall. "Curiois. Both to your condition and to the unique situation of one of my citizens. Surely she is unharmed from whatever trial befalls her?"

Namor turns to the swearing of fealty that Nerissa proudly gives him, a soft smile coming across his face. "Imperius Rex." The chant and motto of the Atlantean Empire. "Rise, faithful daughter of Atlantis. You are well-missed in your home." A more common saying in Atlantis when one has been away for so long.

Emma Frost has posed:
Well, any sort of further banter that Emma Frost might offer goes quiet under the formalities of things. Barbed tongue is sheathed, wine is put to the side, and she almost fades away just a little bit. This is something rather presonal - from subject to royalty. So this is not something to interfere upon.

Emma does look on with silent curiousity. This isn't the sort of thing one encounters regularly after all.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "It is a long story, Your Majesty," Ariah states quietly, almost ... cautiously. "But I have done the utmost to see her taken care of," she then confirms. When Nerissa takes a knee, however, she goes completely silent, allowing the pair to interact. She clasps her hands behind her back, watching the exchange between the two, her eyes briefly meeting Emma's. There's a small nod, and at amor's statement of being missed, she takes a short breath.

    "...she was discovered beneath the eastern seas," Ariah speaks up, voice measured and calm. Neutral and matter-of-fact. "Where she had been imprisoned in stone for over seven centuries. I have yet to submit a formal report to the Embassy, but she has been well taken care of since... awakening. I imagine she has much to catch up on with the state of your Kingdom, Your Majesty, and may I be so bold to say, you from her about the past."

    She takes a step back, angled towards Emma, "Any other details I am not at liberty to speak on," the witch states, giving space to Nerissa and Namor.

Nerissa has posed:
    Nerissa waits for a few seconds, before rising to her full, short height, pushing back the long, mahogany-colored ponytail that had fallen forward. She looks up to Namor, her face chiseled from seriousness. "Ariah's information is correct in all facets, Your Majesty. I have been in a form of magically-induced stasis for nearly eight hundred years. With your permission, I would request to remain on the surface world for the extent of my recuperatory period. My mind is... unwell, for the time being," she winces at the admission. "Given that the majority of my memories have their trenches in Atlantis, I feel it would be safer for myself, and others, if I stay away until such a time that I have a greater grasp on my mental, emotional and spiritual states. Atlantis ill needs a danger to its citizens, regardless of how unintentional the danger may be."

    She gestures to the ageless witch with an open palm. "Ariah has already proven herself capable of besting me in combat, and her knowledge in the matters arcane have served to safely keep me ensorceled for the protection of all involved after my awakening. She is a prime, if not perfect, exemplar of what the surface world should aspire to be."

Namor has posed:
"Hm."

800 years is a long time to be locked away. Though Namor has many questions, he seems to be if the belief that it can be asked another time. The request is made to remain on the surface world with Ariah as her protector and caretaker, citing previous battle experience and victories.

At times, you could read Namor like a book. Other times? Impossible. Namor turns from Nerissa to place a steady, unflinching look in Ariah's direction. "Then in your care I peace her. I expect that report at the embassy."

Speaking of Atlantean matters....

Namor presses two fingers to his ear. "Very well." He looks at the others. "I'm needed in my empire. I'm certain we will meet again, all of you." and without another word, Namor is on the move.