2683/Salt and Sand

Salt and Sand
Date of Scene:	29 July 2020
Location:	Hammer Bay
Synopsis:	King Namor arrives on Genosha to sign the treaty between Atlantis and Genosha.
Cast of Characters:	Namor, Lorna Dane, Clarice Ferguson

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Namor has posed:
Genosha has seen many things in the previous months, its people hounded and attacked over and over, preyed upon relentlessly and trod under foot but never broken. They've seen visiting dignitaries, attacking pirates, and villainous alien overlords bent on stealing them away, but today they witness something new. No matter what events have played out on the shores of the mutant nation, the King of Atlantis is determined to outdo it all. Invited to sign a flurry of papers solidifying the agreed upon alliance between Ocean and Island, the gesture is both political and practical. The Queen herself visited Namor in his halls, and now it is only fitting that the Emperor of the Deep visit the island in person in reciprocation. Plus, it makes signing papers much easier when you're not under water.

Seemingly of their own accord, the oceans begin to boil and churn near the shores of Hammer Bay. Spray kicks up, turning a relatively calm sea into a foaming mass that would shame the wildest rapids. Then, with no apparent care for the tumultuous waters they rise from, columns of spears begin to appear, sliding from the depths just before their bearers. Clad in golden armor adorned with blood red scales, the honor guard of Atlantis' King are lifted out of the water by a pair of stingray-like warships, their blue-skinned faces covered in armored masks full of water. As one, without seemingly any signal given, they begin to hammer the butts of their spears into the roofs of the warships, pounding out a steady staccato beat. Finally, flanked on either side by the columns of spearmen, King Namor of Atlantis, Lord of the Seven Seas, Emperor of the Deep, and Supreme Commander of the Undersea Legions rises from the depths, standing atop a behemoth of a whale which announces his arrival by song and by fountain of spray.

With one final beat of their spears, the Atlantean honor guard ceases their rhythm and marches from the now beached warships onto the sand while the King himself simply leaps from the back of the whale and lands amongst them with a faint grin, dark eyes casting about.

Lorna Dane has posed:
The delegation from Atlantis would be greeted with a simple sight. A sandy beach that had been cleared off, and a dock not so far off. In the distance the sprawl of the urban destruction was clearly visible, the only thing left taller than a two story building being the giant Sentinel that had been converted to the likeness of Magneto. The small refugee camp was mostly small prefabricated creations, no taller than a story in most cases. And was surrounded by a large metal wall, blocking most of it from view.

On the beach in front of Namor's party however was a canvas tent. A large pavillion with a stylized 'M' painted on the top and with the flag of Genosha flying over it. All of which looked bright and newly painted. Under the tent and in the shade stood a handful of mutants. They had no clear uniform, but were at least clean and dressed for the weather and visitors. A metal table, large and robust in make was in the center along with various tablets, screens, and a few stacks of paper carefully weighted down so as to not blow away in the wind off the ocean.

Lorna stood out in front, wearing something similar to what Namor had seen her in before. Though this time with less metal plates on her personage. A simple green ensemble of a top, and leggings, boots, and matching headpiece. The same over-robe of teal embroidered with gold though. It was clearly the only thing from before the fall of the nation to survive.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
Royalty visiting? That meant Clarice dressed her best jacket for it. The long one with the golden motifs on the shoulders. Now she looked the proper bodyguard to royalty. Not that she'd ever admit this was her only GOOD jacket left. But they did with what they had. Her hair was pulled back and away from her face in a long purple ponytail, unnatural green eyes keeping attentive while they waited.

At the pomp of Namor's arrival, specifically at that beating of spears that heralded the Emperor of the Deep to surface she had taken a step forth, her shoulders squaring, eyes going over to the rising whale and then at the Atlantean himself. A brow arches just so and she leans closer to Lorna to whisper in a rather low tone.

"Certainly knows how to make an entrance, mmm?" the corner of her mouth twisting up with the hint of a smile. But soon enough she returns to her more sober demeanor. Her job here today was a serious one afterall..

Namor has posed:
A meeting of Royals or not, Namor's particular style of dress would shock the most progressively minded Windsor dead in their tracks. No circumstance or personage was going to force the Atlantean King to adjust to suit, and so despite the formality of the gathering he's dressed in his standard ensemble. Form-fitting leggings to limit drag and... well nothing else -- not even spare pieces of Atlantean armor. Today he's elected to go with a black-and-blue motif over green-and-gold, and as he catches sight of Lorna, Clarice, and the rest of the mutant entourage his teeth flash in broader grin that seems almost bloodthirsty by habit.

"Your Majesty," he greets as he closes the distance, stepping barefoot through the sand with two columns of Atlantean Royal guards at his back, his arms spread wide. As he closes on the group, he abruptly half-turns back towards the ocean and raises his hand, and like a streak of lightning through the otherwise clear sky, a golden trident launches from the sea in a spout of spray and finds his waiting hand. With a flourish, wasting none of the momentum the Trident of Neptune brings with it, Namor spins the haft of the weapon and then plunges it head first into the sand at his side. As if on cue, the honor guard slams the butts of their spears once more in the ground and halts as the King approaches the mutant delegation alone, clearly completing some sort of Atlantean ritual to indicate meeting under non-violent terms.

As he closes the distance, the Emperor's dark gaze falls upon Clarice and his brow cants upward, the corner of his mouth lifting just a fraction more as he regards her and her best jacket briefly. Without a word, he turns towards Lorna and lets his expression fall into something more personal and friendly as he lowers his arms. "I hope you've been well?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
A few of the mutants on the beach startled, some jumping, a few hands twitching, and more than a few worried glances followed the Atlantean ritual. It would seem that more than a handful of them were leery about the delegation and their King. With good measure too, they were outnumbered on their own island. And just how close to the water they were was vibrantly apparent when it came to dealing with a monarch that could flood the beach and kill them all.

Still Lorna for her part looked unconcerned, and glanced side long at Clarice with a smile on her features. "You know I'd put it up there with father's dramatics." She murmured softly, and turned her attention to Namor as he approached. Her figure bent into a polite dip for visiting royalty, and her expression warmed further. "Thank you for coming to sign these papers, I know they hardly mean much in terms for your people. But they'll do well to calm my more cautious advisors." She offered Namor, and gestured with a hand to the shade of the tent and the table there. "Shall we?" She stepped toward the tent, a green eyed glance spared for Clarice beside her.

"This is my guard, Blink. And the others gathered here are a mixture of my advisors, surviving Councilmembers, and those that wish to be so. I hope you'll forgive the frugality of it all."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
Oh.., Father's dramatics. That ALMOST makes Clarice roll her eyes but she stops herself right there at the start. Because there's an emperor approaching and apparently looked at her. So the elven woman puts on her best smile and poise, one that speaks of this not being her first rodeo on such kind of meetings, a graceful bow offered when she is introduced, hands to her sides, legs bowing just so in a traditional manner, showing her respect.

"My greetings." She says in a polite enough manner.

Her eyes are quick to take note of that trident though, of it's reach, of the rest of the Atlantean guards that weren't too far either. Her duty so commanded that all this, and more, fell into her scrutiny.

So far so good though so she resumes her normal stance, legs slightly apart, hands folded over her front.

Namor has posed:
It's true. Atlanteans rarely signed papers, and not just because of the whole water thing. This was entirely to set the Genoshans at ease, but Namor seems to be taking it all well enough. After all, he got to make an entrance, and for the Atlantean King that was always an entertaining bit of statecraft to participate in. In fact, he's in such a good mood that he glances up towards the Sentinel bearing Magneto's likeness with a raised eyebrow, commenting lightly: "I don't know. I've never quite done anything as dramatic as that." A hand reaches to flick a scratch behind his pointed, elven ears as if to remind the pair that it's more than just his strength and durability that's enhanced. Still, he doesn't seem to take the comparison with any ill-will as he turns to follow Lorna towards the assembled tent.

"Blink?" he asks conversationally as they walk, turning his gaze once more on the Queen's guard, his focus flicking over her form briefly. "An interesting name," says Namor, "What makes you qualified to guard your Queen, Blink?" It's not a challenge, merely a curious inquiry. "I'm surprised the daughter of Magneto who shares his power even needs a guard."

/That/ might be a challenge, though by the look on his face one that hints more at a desire to test their strength than any true put down.

Lorna Dane has posed:
The wind off the ocean kept the tropical beach pleasant, despite the humidity of the afternoon sun. In the shade of the canvas tent it was comfortable, and the various royals and accompanied group of mutants fit easily. Lorna's lips twitched, as Namor flicked at his pointed ear tip, "I grew up around those with enhanced senses and telepaths. Never say or think something that's a lie." She murmured, and then nodded in the direction of the Sentinel that looked like Magento.

"The Brotherhood made that, and I finished it off. Perhaps it's time to come down will approach soon with my father's return. We shall see." She mused, and smoothed over the rather detailed piece of paper on the tablet before her, setting the chunk of metal that weighed it down to the sides and kept it from blowing away.

A pause followed as she waited to hear what Blink had to say in response to Namor's questions. She seemed unconcerned with his commentary that the daughter of Magneto would ever need a guard at all. Given that her father had long ago assigned the purple haired mutant to her entourage, Lorna trusted whatever Clarice had to say on the subject. Even with visiting royalty.

"Would you like anything to drink, your majesty?" She offered lightly, instead.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
So unfair. Clarice also has pointed ears..., but no enhanced senses. She brushes one hand up in an almost unconscious manner up over her ear too though there was definitely an understanding at what the man's gesture meant. And an oopsie, perhaps she should had gotten herself more informed on what the Emperor of Atlantis can do. Live and learn!

"Lord Magneto so decided that I was fit for such a task." She replies with a slight bow of her head. "I could only answer by devoting myself fully to such a duty." though if she goes into what her powers are? Nope! Secrets are important in this line of business. If anything though, there seems to be no faking about her devotion to the Royal line of Genosha.

As for making her own questions? Nah, Blink doesn't dare. She knows what her role is. But there is a more genuine smile upon her expression even if her stance has not relaxed.

Namor has posed:
In the way that seems all too natural to the King of Atlantis, Namor finds his chair -- or a chair he likes the look of at the very least -- and /occupies/ it. Like an invading army, he takes the space and makes it his, turning a simple chair into a sovereign throne with all the royal bearing of his true seat in Atlantis. Though he shows respect in his words and in his actions for the Queen of Genosha, sitting first on her island is a statement undeniable by anyone who knows a thing about royalty. He declares himself the pre-eminent monarch with that one action and his glance towards Clarice and Lorna immediately following is yet another of the Emperor's tests. He may be swaggering and arrogant, but Namor knows well how to play the game of Kings and Queens.

"If nothing else, Magneto always had a nose for talent," he declares in response to Blink's answer, his gaze dancing across to Lorna when she offers refreshments. "I think wine would be fitting for such an occasion," he offers, then turns to regard each and every member of Lorna's retinue before he glances around in search of these papers the surface dwellers were all so concerned about. "Tell me," he starts, still looking for the papers for a moment before he refocuses on Lorna and, peripherally, Clarice, "Why one of those monstrosities?" A gesture indicates the Sentinel, the King fully aware of their purpose even if they have yet to be sent against Atlantis or her Mutant King, "I would think you'd dismantle their weapons and use them for spare parts, not a monument."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna glanced back at Clarice in amusement, and she bent to gather the various papers and written articles that detailed everything she and Namor had discussed at length. She turned back to him, spotting how he'd lounged back in a chair beside the massive metal table. The chair itself was another metal work, intricately carved with knot designs along the arms and back, a cushion placed on the seat. It was the same as the other small chairs that ringed the table. Yet for all that orders and politeness demanded Lorna take a seat first.. it didn't seem like she cared overly about the slight. Even if other mutants clearly did, judging by the look on their faces. She handed the papers off to a counselor who made to hand them to Namor.

As the green haired Queen went about the tent, seemingly idle in her ways as she waved a hand and a metal pitcher, cool with the condensation of ice where it had rested at the back of the tent, came flying to her hand. Likewise two small cups floated over to her other hand. She set them on the table, and with a flick of her wrists, the wine was poured. One cup returned to her hand while the other floated to the King of Atlantis.

Only then did Lorna settle in the seat opposite.

"Blink has been with me for years and has saved my life repeatedly in turn. She is a trusted ally and valuable friend." She mused, and turned her focus back to Namor.

"We could break it down, and use it for scrap, but it would take effort and there is no shortage of such material about the ruins of the city. It's no longer functional, but there's something to say about reclaiming the pieces to stamp a memorial to the King of Genosha on its likeness instead. At least, that was the thought originally. I'm not sure what it be upon his return other than an icon to his image."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
While Clarice isn't exactly the type to know about all the intricacies of Court life, of Queens and Kings, at least this she knows. The slight of sitting down before the ruler of these lands. Minor? She isn't too sure, and perhaps there's a moment in that that flashes through her expression. Should there be a reaction from her? In the end she wisely decides to go with Lorna's own reaction. She doesn't care too much? Fine by her!

So she remains standing even as Lorna goes about the room using her powers for the good of the Emperor's palate. A smile is given at Lorna though, and a slight bow of her head in acknowledgement to those words. It had been some interesting years indeed ...

"And hopefully will still have for many years to come." The elven guard replies about that 'nose for talent' comment. Well, she couldn't help herself!

The talk about the sentinel makes her expression crunch up a little, even if the look she gives Lorna is one of approval with what has been done.

Namor has posed:
If anything, Namor just seems to draw amusement from the scowls and checked temper of the various functionaries accompanying Lorna. If he wasn't like this with just about everyone, it could almost be interpreted as a grudge directed at the Genoshans and their officials. Still, he seems to be even more amused by the Queen and her Guard's utter /lack/ of a reaction than he is by any self-important aide's offended sensibilities. He plucks the hovering cup of wine from the air with the sort of nonchalant demeanor of someone who is used to things floating around him and takes a drink. An appreciative nod marks his approval of the vintage and he drains another small mouthful before settling the cup before him on the table. Fingers drum once against the surface, testing the metal with a flick of a gaze towards Polaris.

Finally he takes the papers from the waiting counselor, happy enough to ignore them until he's had his wine. The King flips through them, reading quickly and efficiently as his grin fades just a touch with concentration. Without raising his eyes from his work, he murmurs with a distracted undercurrent to his normally haughty tones: "You trust each other." It's a statement not a question, though that doesn't mean it's necessarily a true one, just the end result of the King's initial observation colored by his natural arrogance. "That's good."

Satisfied with the paperwork, he sets the packet down on the table in front of him then looks up again, fixing Clarice with a steady gaze and a half-cocked grin. "I wonder," he starts, his voice dropping low and predatory for a moment, "What you would do to protect your Queen if I gave the order for my retinue to attack? What would you do if I tried to take her head right here and now?" Though his voice is soft, it carries well, and several dozen feet away the Atlantean Royal guard shifts their grips on their spears eliciting a minor clanking of metal on metal.

Lorna Dane has posed:
It was likely a good thing that Lorna hadn't permitted the more 'trigger' happy of the mutants from the refugee camp to be present for the royal visit. Indeed, Unus the Untouchable, would've been livid and throwing around insults, as would the Acolytes. But the green haired mutant Queen seemed content to simply sit back, and relax, sipping her own cup of wine as she waited for Namor to read over the paperwork that detailed their previously verbal agreements.

She folded a leg over the other, reclining as she listened, "Of course I trust her." She mused, "Do you hire guards that you don't trust?" She shot back, arching an eyebrow upward. Still as he set the packet down and glanced back to Clarice to place his careful threats, the assembled mutants under the tent tensed. No small amount of wariness followed and they looked ready to bolt. The Genoshan Genocide too fresh in their minds to risk their necks a second time for a Queen that might not be ruling within a month.

Lorna though, simply sat, unconcerned and continued to sip at her wine. She waved a metal pen over to the stack of papers, the bottom clicking as it settled down in front the Atlantean King.

"Please stop teasing my guard, King Namor. If you are so curious about her powers, I am sure Blink can provide a demonstration after we get the paperwork out of the way."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
"The same way I trust her Majesty." Clarice replies with a complete lack of deviousness on her tone. Whatever her past might have been it seemed to make her one of those fully loyal and devoted to the Genosha cause. "There is no room for hesitation in the duty I perform."

Clarice watches patiently the dance between King and Queen, the motions, all appearing so casual but yet each so full of meaning. Oh yes, all those years with the Royals made her quite proficient in reading all the little signs .. So she is patient enough, following protocol..

Yet if she expected this to be just a formality it seems she was mistaken. That duty of hers appears to be challenged but while there is a clear shift on her posture, the readiness, as if she'd be able to take on the whole of this royal guard, or at least die trying. Curiously enough, there is no fear there on her eyes.

"I would make sure anyone that attempted so would come to regret it." Simple and effective.

Though indeed all the other sycophants had reasons to fear. She'd most likely only teleport Lorna and herself away!

Namor has posed:
"I trust all my guards," Namor counters, "But none have been appointed to me by my father." The King watches Lorna for a moment, stressing the difference before he looks back to Blink and awaits her response with the casual of ease of someone who hadn't just hypothesized imminent war and betrayal. Only when both the Queen and her Guard have given their responses does Namor seem satisfied, holding the predatory look for just a moment of silence before he laughs and settles back in his chair with comfort. "Very well, Your Majesty, though it is your own fault," he declares pointing across to the Genoshan Monarch with a playfully chastising fingers, "For presenting before me a unique beauty, declaring her your personal guard, and then refusing to tell me what exactly she's capable of." Another spare glance towards Clarice then before he sighs and seems to prepare himself for finally taking the proceedings with some seriousness.

"Thank you," he murmurs as he takes up the pen floated over towards him and begins to shuffle through the papers. Finding each line with a clear and quick efficiency that shows definitively that he actually did read the papers set before him, he signs with a comfortable hand that belies the lack of paper signing that goes on beneath the waves. When he's found and signed each and every bit of documentation that requires his signature, he turns the papers around with his palm and slides them across to Lorna, setting the pen diagonally across the top page before leaning back once more in his chosen chair.

Only when she's finished does he rise, offering out a hand to his counterpart even as he seems to flick a quick signal to the captain of his Guard several feet away. "Let us mark this hour and day as the official start of a profitable relationship for both our nations," he declares, pitching his voice across the beach, "The armies of Atlantis now guard your shores, Queen Lorna." With those words, the seas begin to churn and boil again, but this time the display is across the entire shore and extends out past their sight. Everywhere, all over the island, the oceans dispense a fleet of Atlantean warships, each mounted with armed soldiers, each ready to bring terrible violence upon the enemies of their King. Namor smiles at this show of force, his gaze locked on Lorna even as the soldiers begin to pound their spears into the roofs of their mounts as one. Ten sharp beats ring out, then silently and as quickly as they came, the warships sink back into the ocean, presumably to begin the task of keeping the island nation of Genosha safe.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna watched Namor from over the rim of her metal cup, slowly sipping her wine as if to wave away any concerns she had in regards to the aquatic ruler. She smiled again as he broke into laughter and a few of her ministers released a sigh of relief. She shook her head faintly, as she rested her arm on the table to set her cup aside. "You must remember until six months ago, I was a Princess unused to her station in the world, and perfectly content to get into all the trouble that entails. My father appointed Blink to make sure I lived long enough to inherit a crown." She murmured, no small amount of amusement in her tone as she waved a hand as if to dismiss the whole incident.

She leaned forward to pluck the pen up and scribble her own signature down beside his where it was required for documentation. It was something that would be viewed as legally binding in any of the surface countries, and moreover, gave her people some peace of mind. Even if she knew it was something laughable by undersea standards. Namor would keep his word, or he wouldn't. It was the way of Kings and Queens and nations.

As he rose, she rolled a glance toward Clarice briefly before she took the outstretched hand in her grip. Her palms cooler than most humans, and the touch between the two doubtlessly registered faintly on the Atlantean King's senses as her magnetic powers looped naturally about her. Quite literally, she carried a charged presence.

She rose, and as the show of force echoed throughout the island's coasts, a great many heads peaked out over the top or around the fence that surrounded the refugee camp. It would seem the population could no longer contain their interest or curiosity at what was going on.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
There is just the briefest of snorts from the bodyguard, perhaps at the apparent 'test', or something else that the King may have said. But Clarice is also wise in keeping herself quiet. Lorna is the smooth one in these kind of things, and she trusts her to navigate these 'waters' without her having to intervene too much. The laughter does ease most of that rising tension of before though. Apparently there shall be no war between Atlantis and Genosha! A good thing. "If a demonstration is needed of my prowess, and if her Majesty feels it's appropriate.." as if putting it in Lorna's hands whether she will show it or not.., eventually.

Instead there is that solemn moment that Clarice stores to memory, the alliance forged between their two people. A moment that she certainly can respect, and even be proud of. A look is given to her Majesty and then back to the King. And then inevitably to those ships rising up... Quite the show of force indeed.

A brow smoothly rises. In truth, there is little that she knows about the Atlantean culture and might afterall. Seemed like they were the right kind of allies.

Namor has posed:
"Excellent," Namor calls out in a ringing tone, retracting his hand and once more holding both out at his side as he turns to face his Guard and exit from beneath the tent. "I do not understand your insistence on signing papers," the King declares to Lorna, glancing towards her with the full expectation that she'd be following him back out to the beach proper, "If either of us were to betray the other's trust, what consequence do mere documents hold? If this were done in the traditional Atlantean way, there would be an exchange of hostages, or failing that a marriage between families. That is a true method of curtailing betrayal." The implication dire for the hypothetical hostages in this scenario. He shrugs though as he walks, apparently comfortable with the current situation despite his repeated confusion and patronizing exasperation.

He stops once he's made his way back to his Trident, withdrawing the weapon from the sand and turning it so it rests head up, butt in the sand. "Still, the wine was good and I enjoyed needling your advisors, so I have little to complain about," he admits as he shifts his weight onto one leg and strikes his very best regal pose while he faces Lorna, "Are there any more of your surface world rituals you wish to observe? So long as they amuse me, I'm willing to entertain your methods for the time being."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna shrugged with a light rise and fall of her shoulders. "I am aware of how little the documentation means to you or your people. It means something up here though, with nations and the alike. It's a flimsy thing but many nations believe it holds value. And if it makes my advisers sleep better at night, I will let them think it means something." She kept her voice soft as she trailed alongside Namor. Her feet barely scraped the sand with her weight, her presence constantly lightened by the magnetic fields she wrapped herself in by habit.

The comment about hostages and marriages earned a raised eyebrow. "That was standard practice a few hundred years ago." A smile appeared on her lips, "And if that is a means of proposing marriage to me, that is certainly my first such proposal." Her voice light and filled with no small amount of humor as she turned it back to the Atlantean King.

As he came to a stop, she stopped as well as he plucked the trident up into his grip once more. "I might offer you a tour of the island if you desire. Though I would break tradition and suggest we do so from the sky rather than to walk. It is not a pleasant trek on foot."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
"At least he is bold, Your Majesty." Clarice says of the 'alternative' methods of securing an alliance. And indeed, quite a -few- centuries behind their current time. But then again there seemed to be a curious mix of modern with ancient practices where it came to the Atlanteans apparently.

The suggestion of a trek from the sky makes Blink purse her lips together. Bit of a break on protocol. And would she be able to protect her just as well? There is just a look given to Lorna but then she dips her head.

Namor has posed:
Namor just barks out a short burst of laughter at that, gesturing wide with his Trident towards the seas. "Would you not wish to be Queen of the Seven Seas?" he asks with an amused tone, continuing the intentional misinterpretation of his words with good humor. "When your father returns, you could give him back this single island and take dozens more for yourself as a marriage present from your Lord Husband." A pause as he smiles at Lorna, holding the farce a moment longer before he waves a hand and dispels the proposition with a mere gesture. "In truth, I would take you as a wife if you sought to join the Empire of Atlantis peacefully as a protectorate. For such a minor agreement as this, it would be customary to hand over a scion or two from important or noble families in your realm." Then, when Lorna mentions the outdated nature of his proposal to Clarice's silent agreement, the Atlantean King simply shrugs and glances over to the Genoshan mainland, "The surface world is always seeking to modernize at the expense of practices that work. You believe you are progressing ever closer to a utopia while you discard traditions that made you strong. You may think it to be an ancient practice, but I would hesitate to break our agreement if it meant the death of two young Atlantean citizens. Your papers?" He turns then, fixing both Lorna and Clarice with the first serious expression he's worn since arriving, "I would not fear for a moment to trample them into the dust as I marched upon your people." A pause, as he lets a more solemn smile return to his features, "You are merely lucky that King Namor of Atlantis keeps his word."

Then, with a final clap of his hands he lifts off the sand and begins to hover a foot or two above the Earth with an easy smile once more return to his features. "A tour sounds excellent. I follow your lead, Queen Lorna."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna arched a brow upward as Namor gestured at the sea in front of them. She smiled though, sweeping her gaze once over and back to him. "I think I'd match the decore of your palace rather well." She joked, her rolled her shoulders back as she spoke, and glanced briefly back at Clarice as she did so. "And for an arranged marriage, I could do a great deal worse." She added, and shook her head at the thought. As he continued she sighed heavily.

"Alas, we lack all nobles and those that might be worth such an exchange." Be they dead or trapped within a bottle. Who was to say? The country was in shambles, and it was impossible to make the typical overtures that might be expected between two countries. His sobered expression and commentary that he could easily turn on his word if he chose earned only a look in return.

"I assumed you would value your word to such a degree, King Namor, as per our discussions before.. and I will continue to do so until I am proven otherwise." She glanced over his form as he lifted into the air, noting the manner in which he hovered over the sands beside her.

"How fast can you fly?"