19539/Surfing and Turfing

Surfing and Turfing
Date of Scene:	21 November 2024
Location:	The Strait Lace Steakhouse - Hellfire Club
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Namor, Susan Richards

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Namor has posed:
It is not often that Namor dines on the surface world and their tastes.

But some things are worth leaving the ocean for. In this instance, it is a new and improved former (current?) admiration of Namor's: Susan Storm-Richards. He awaited in the Strait Lace Steakhouse, a high-end restaurant sponsored and represented by the Hellfire Club - of which Namor holds a distinct membership within. Unlike his normal Atlantean attire, Namor seems to have put together an effort.

He wears a pitch-black suit, consisting of vest and tie and undershirt, even a dinner jacket. Black slacks along the legs until oxford shoes cover his feet, though some hint of the wings on his ankles still remain. His hair is properly done and his facial hair is neatly trimmed. A glass of wine is lifted to his lips.

After all, he would hate to be unpresentable to his date for the evening. For she has often caught his eye in more ways than one. He hadn't even put in an order. It would have been rude to assume what the infamous Invisible Woman would prefer.

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan Richards wears a simple dress, seafoam in color in honor of her dining partner for the evening. She wears heels that appear almost made of glass, like something from Cinderella, instead cast to her specifications in crystal by the advanced 3D printer they had back at Four Freedoms. Reed's penchant for gadgetry could occasionally be used for stylish purposes, even if the man himself had the fashion sense of Fred Rogers.

The waitress brings her to the table, obviously starstruck by both. Sue's transformation had been the talk of the more tabloid oriented papers - speculations about super-powered plastic surgery. Some people thought she had faked her death just to get a full body facelift. But she couldn't control what people thought - she'd learned that lesson a long time ago, when they'd first gone public. Not her idea. But then, that's why she was the invisible woman - she didn't like that kind of attention.

There were kinds of attention she did like, of course.

Sue takes a seat across from her old friend and old enemy, "Sauvignon Blanc, something fresh, please," she says to the waitress, skating the surface of her silver polished nails over the rim of the glass when it arrives. "I don't need to see the menu, but take your time, Namor. I always get the Prime Rib here. Very tender. I don't think a little blood will bother you, last I checked," she smiles. "And so - I think you know at least a little something of my recent...experiences. So tell me of yours - how are things in Atlantis?"

Namor has posed:
Those eyes, dark like the ocean depths, look up to see Susan as she approaches. Like a gentleman, he rose from his seat and he kept his eyes *firmly* on the woman who approached. His eyes drank her entire appearance, from the shine of her hair to the clacking of her glass slippers. He looked like her like there was nothing more appealing. Perhaps that was just his attention for those who had his focus, maybe that was just the depth of his gaze.

"Susan. A pleasure."

And only when she sat did he do the same. He kept his wine glass full, watching Sue as she slide her nails across the rim of her glass, making so sweet a sound. "I will take the ribeye and crab, please." he passed the menu to the waitress as he looked at her. "I do happen to like tender tastes. Perhaps that's why we dine so well together?" a teasing little flirt, but a bold one nonetheless.

"Just a little. You look rather spectacular." when asked of his own experiences in Atlantis, Namor shrugged. "A sour taste in my mouth. It would seem another has intentions for the throne. He claims not to want it, however. It's a curious thing, but one I intend to discover before the Kingdom is divided in a decision. We haven't reached that point quite yet of course."

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan Richards tsks and shakes her head - her hair is shoulder length in an inverted bob, a jagged cut that gives her a little more ferocity in the past, complimented by dangling, sparkly earrings. More flash than usual from Sue, who often preferred to present herself more demurely, in the background. Again, she was coming to appreciate attention, even if she wanted to have more control over it than she usually had.

She flirt makes her smile. What woman, married no atter how long, won't feel at least a flush of pleasure at being flirted with by Namor, King of Atlantis? They have always had a certain electricity between them.

"I understand the crab is very good. Very fresh. Might be someone you know?" she says, lightly teasing. "But that's Aquaman's thing, isn't it? Speaking to the sea creatures," she says. "He's the one who's threatening to take your throne, I assume? He has the best legal claim, from my limited understanding," she says. which is modest, given that she helped write most of the text of the first Human-Atlantean treaties. Namor had written the rest.

"As for my appearance, yes, my...death and resurrection seem to have rejuvenated me. Honestly, it's almost annoying. I feel great but I do not fit in particularly with women the age I look. I am old enough to be my mother," she says with a half smile.

Namor has posed:
She liked the attention and Namor was happy to give it to her. He smiled when she responded so well to his flirty behavior, feeling the electricity between them. He often wondered the real reason why they never acted on such impulses.

After all, a woman like Sue should be able to attain what she desires.

"Heh. What do you suppose Atlanteans dine upon? Cows and chicken?" he teased her right back. "Besides, I too am able to communicate with sea life." Sge mentions his contender by name and he sighed. "Yes. The Aquaman. He is Atlanna's heir, his claim cannot be easily ignored." He remarked to her with a shrug.

"Be glad, many women would wish to be you. Beautiful. Young. Powerful. Wise. You happened to make yourself quite the stunner." Namor chuckled deep and rich. "See it instead as a new opportunity. A chance to start anew in many ways. I could think of plenty other ways of rejuvenation that would have pleasurable, but less significant results."

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan Richards takes a sip of her wine, settling her napkin on her lap as their appetizers are brought - garlic encrusted bread, a block of gourmet cheese, little briny mushrooms soaked in some saline concoction. Sue selects one with her nails bringing it to her mouth, "A little sharp on the tongue," she says. "Much as you have always been. I've never had any doubts about your capabilities, Namor, nor your imagination," she says.

She selects a piece of bread, "All that I have comes with responsibility, Namor. I run a massive charitable foundation, work in xenobiological research, try to keep track of two grown children each of whom are a potential natural disaster on their own. Johnny and Ben are off having their own adventures - not so young anymore, but still bachelors. Not to mention occasionally trying to avert cosmic annihilation now and again," she says.

"All of which is to say, I have a lot on y plate," she says, taking a large bite out of a garlic roll. She seems to be eating with more relish than once she did. She did her exercises but she'd done enough denying herself for one lifetime. "No, I don't think they would like being me very much. But I wouldn't like to be them either."

Namor has posed:
"Well, that's encouraging. For a moment I had thought your mind had become young as well." Namor spoke with amusement lacing his tone. He had quite a vivid imagination as it was.

But he listened of course. To her business and schedule and how the Fantastic has grown from the Four. "And now you have far more energy to keep up with so many things. Seems we both have plenty on our plates these days. Makes you wish for lighter days sometimes, does it?"

He took a piece of relish for himself. Well two, but he offered the second to Sue if she would like. "I'm glad you seem...lighter this time around."

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan Richards can't help but smile, taking another glass of the fine white as the main courses arrive. Her prime rib is a massive slab of beef, cut selectly, dark at the edges and pink and bloody at the center. She takes knife and fork to it, slicing a generous portion and taking it down with aplomb. Washed down with another sip, she sets down her glass.

"Far more energy. That's true. I was in fairly good health anyway, so it isn't as drastic as one might think. I always kept myself healthy, in form - it was part of the philosophy, all that talk about the future, making the world a better place. And we did. But still. There's so damn much to do."

"I guess I thought we'd be farther by now. But yes, I remember, Namor. I remember the world before it went all digital, when we were happy just to be in the newspaper. Being invited on Johnny Carson and wondering how the hell I got there. Facing, say, a sea monster emerging from the deep just a few blocks away from here, near the docks," she says. "You remember that one, I know. You were there, too. Out for blood."

Namor has posed:
The main courses arrive and Namor leaned back to allow the plates to be put in front of them. Only when it was done did he look at the practically bleeding ribeye steak, smoked to perfection and when he cut it open? All pink on the inside. Perfectly done. Perfectly made. And Namor /still/ looks at it like it's foreign, when it would make 90% of humanity drool at the mouth.

Guestimation.

Namor takes that first bite, and he hummed in satisfaction. "Delicious." and he continued his work while she spoke. She's always been healthy. Hell, she's always been *perfect*. "There's no such thing as a perfect world. I believe the term Utopia means 'no place', not 'no place like it'." Namor smirked at her a little bit, taking anoghter bite as he washed it down with some wine.

"Hm." He chuckled in a grunt. "I do recall that one. I was out for blood. Shame the Fantastic Four took issue with it." And many times has Namor contended with the entirety of the team. Many times have they clashed. Many times have they aided one another.

"Who knows, we might have to run it back for the good old days. That's what people on the surface say nowadays, isn't it? 'Run it back?'"

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan Richards hmmmmmmms at his thoughts regarding Utopia, "You might be right. I've been a believer for most of my life. My father before me as well. He was the one who introduced me to Reed. Did you know that? My father was Reed's professor, helped him with his dissertation. He stayed at our house, rented our attic. He was a man grown and I just barely, just out of high school, thinking about college. A baby, really. Valeria's older now than I was then."

She shakes her head softly, "And not much older when we faced off with you. You were properly frightening to me then. A savage from beneath the seas. I thought you were mad. Now, as I get older, I think you likely were showing us mercy. We have done so many unkind things to this world. To each other. Humans have a very bad track record."

"That said, if you tried it again, I'd kick your butt much more easily this time," she teases.

Namor has posed:
"Guess one could say your father set you and Richards up together." Yes, like many of the Fantastic Four's adversaries over the years, it seems Namor refers to Reed by his last name. It's partially out of respect. "Though it seems also that intelligent - worthy enough - runs in the family." Namor chuckled. "You must be in a strange scenario then. Seeing the same face that you looked at when you were striving for so much in the world."

Namor hasn't changed much, appearance-wise. Maybe a few more hairs here, old-fashioned traditions there, progressiveness a little bit over here. Namor's always been a complicated man, even as Susan is telling him that she used to be terrified of him. A savage resident of the seas here to bring his revenge on mankind.

...and someone who showed mercy. "can't have you believing that. Were I to take revenge for the countless centuries of abuse to the world, I can't have you thinking it's more a terrible message than an honest demand." though he smirked at Susan when she claimed she would defeat him easily.

"You would certainly try. Then again, the idea of your hands on me doesn't sound too terribly." he winks at her in that bold flirtation. "But first, tell me of your meal."

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan Richards can't help but laugh, "Rapscallion is probably an old fashioned word, but it's one that always fit you. For all that you're fearsome and powerful and potent, you are, also, a creature of mischief. A troll, as the kids say today. Provocateur, that's sa better word," she says.

"I remain a happily married woman, Namor. You know that," she says, although not severely. "Yes, it's a strange sensation, though, you're right. To see this girl in the mirror again. It's...disconcerting. I am not easy in my skin. Normally, that would make me retreat, hide away, in my work, in my responsibilities."

"But I am...trying to do things differently," she says, setting aside her cleaned plate, "I do believe I'll have dessert," she says to the waiter. "The dark chocolate mousse, please."

Namor has posed:
"Rapscallion?"

Namor rolled his eyes when she called him what the kids call each other these days: 'troll'. "I doubt I subscribe to that manner of thinking." Namor remarked with a bit of a smirk touching his face. "I do have a natural talent for causing conflict, I'm told." When you are the ruler of a supremely powerful nation, that does it to you. Though she claims to be a happily married woman, Namor give sher a -full- once over.

"Then I should be honored you appear so beautifully to me." For a man who is not her husband. "Perhaps I might admire from a distance, and dare not to touch." Though they've had more than a few moments where it looked like they might take that freefall, Namor has - at least generally - respected her marriage.

He had finished his plate by the time she had spoken of dessert. "Perhaps we shall share it?" He tells the waiter, allowing them to leave, before he turned to look at Susan. "And how might you become easier in your skin? Shall I take you dancing, or whatever it is that surface worlders do to feel comfortable and confident with themselves?"