16909/Watching after the lost

Watching after the lost
Date of Scene:	13 January 2024
Location:	The Corral
Synopsis:	A little interlude during Namor's bout with amnesia, staying with a friend and discussing Agatha Christie.
Cast of Characters:	Opal Moirai, Namor

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Opal Moirai has posed:
Opal Moirai first met Namor in 1942, in the North Atlantic. She was working with the French underground at the time, on her way back from America to negotiate a deal for arms. Her ship had been stopped by a German U-Boat, and they were being searched. In a matter of seconds, the U-Boat was -pulled- underwater and in a blur of action, all of the Germans aboard the merchant ship were heaved far out into the frigid ocean.

Opal made a special point of keeping track of the Sub Mariner after that.

In the late 1960's, Opal had moved to California and bought a nice beach house in Malibu. She still maintained her watch list, and kept in contact more directly with more than a few. And to most, she made no secret as to her location or how to reach her.

Namor has posed:
It's hard not really having much memory of the last...however long you've been alive. For Namor -- now going by Namor Mackenzie -- that is his reality. He has no memory of being King of Atlantis, the work he did during World War II, or anything else about his identity. As of now, he is sitting in front of the pool at the house in Malibu where he is staying with his friend Opal. He has a newspaper open in front of him, and is looking at the long obituary of Agatha Christie published in the paper.

Opal Moirai has posed:
Opal Moirai hasn't forgotten, even if Namor has. That's what she's here for, after all, to watch after those who have played significant roles in global events. And to be a touchstone to them when they become lost.

The sliding patio door opens and she steps out onto the pool deck, carrying a tray. The blonde is wearing a long, flowery, oversized shirt over a bikini, sunglasses pulled down over blue eyes. "Good morning, Namor." she offers. "Coffee?" Opal doesn't make American coffee, and rather than a large pot there are a couple of small cups on saucers.

Namor has posed:
"Yes. Of course. Thank you." Namor replies, before he motions to the obituary he is looking at, "You ever hear of this woman, Agatha Christie? I feel I've read something of hers...but..." he waggles his hand, "She SEEMS like a very accomplished author, I should pick up one of her books the next time I am out." He gives a glance to Opal and her outfit, before he goes back to the paper.

Opal Moirai has posed:
Opal Moirai sets one of the cups near him on the table, the other closer to her as she settles into the lounger opposite him. "Agatha Christie? Oh yes, she's a famous author of murder mysteries. And you really should, they're quite engaging." Opal raises the coffee to her lips, taking a slow sip. "There was something about her a while back as well. Apparently she sort of... lost track... of a few days. Something happened, but she never could remember what or why." Her gaze shifts more closely to Namor at the last, watching his expression.

Namor has posed:
"Can't imagine what that's like," Namor replies with a bit of grim humor, before he takes up the coffee and has a sip. He smiles a little and then adds, "This is, as always, excellent. I should only hope most people who've lost their way can find it to your home. Though if your caring nature gets out...you may need to build a few additions to house us all." He gives a little wink at that.

He then returns to the obituary, "Still...losing track of a few days is not so bad as at least...what...thirty years? Just poof, gone."

Opal Moirai has posed:
Opal Moirai smiles softly over the rim of her cup, taking another sip with a small nod. "Who says I haven't already built another house?" she teases. "But I'm sure everything will come back to you in time, Namor. You are, after all, one of most unique people I've ever met. And that is saying something."

In his case it was much more than 30 years, but that's all she's told him about. His physique is unique enough for him to realize that there is more to him than most, but she doesn't want to overwhelm and overload.

Namor has posed:
"Well, thank you. I think it may soon be time for my swim. I'm feeling a little dry, strangely." Namor replies, before he folds up the paper and sets it aside. He then looks into Opal's eyes and says sincerely, "Thank you, again. For the thousandth time, for all of this."