2786/Tropical Sunsets

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Tropical Sunsets
Date of Scene: 04 August 2020
Location: Genosha's Beach
Synopsis: Lorna and Namor have a conversation about Genosha and Atlantis' alliance and their relationship.
Cast of Characters: Lorna Dane, Namor




Lorna Dane has posed:
The soft sands of Genosha's shore were stained with the various golds, oranges, and reds of the tropical sunset as the heat of the day slowly began to taper off. The ocean an equal reflection of the sky, with high clouds, and calm waves. It was quiet, the various mutant children from the refugee camp had since run back to dinner and watchful eyes. Beyond the walls, a new earthen structure squat on the landscape, tall and holding the Genoshan bits that had been stolen from the nation.

Furthermore it held those that had tried to launch a coup.

But the green haired monarch had been told once again, that her shift in watchfulness was over, that she needed to get something to eat and to rest. If she didn't she would run herself ragged, as often happened with matters of great import. So Lorna found herself alone with her thoughts, and a wide expanse of tropical beach to herself. The only landmark of any kind being the long pier that stretched out to receive shipments from all over the world, but even that was some distance away and closer to the refugee camp proper.

Lorna walked along the edge of the surf, her bare feet squishing in the wet sand as she moved. She wore a simple black swimsuit, and by the dryness of her hair, it was also apparent she hadn't actually gone swimming. Rather she seemed to walk and brood with her thoughts more than anything.

Offshore the distant spray of whales coming up for air could be seen, if she'd bothered to look up and toward the horizon.

Namor has posed:
If she /had/ bothered to look up from where she walked to watch the whales as they breached the surface on the horizon, she might have noticed that one such spray was curiously stronger than the others. In fact, it seemed to more closely resemble the particular torrent of water that occurs whenever a dolphin or shark launches itself from the waves, though with significantly more force. A streak of dark color -- black, blue, and tan -- darts from the surface, undoubtedly the source of the breach, and hangs in the air with the sun at its back long enough to resolve into the silhouette of Namor, the Sub-Mariner. He turns his gaze towards the Island Nation of the Mutants of Genosha, unnaturally potent eyes glaring down on the beach until he finds what he seeks: The Queen, lost in her own thoughts.

A slight pressure in the air and the tremulous noise of the sound barrier nearly breaking forewarns of Namor's arrival as he arcs from the sky and lands in a shower of sand, a small crater forming beneath his feet. He strides from the newly created landmark without a care and approaches Lorna with the shining Trident of Neptune in hand. "My generals tell me there has been fighting here, Lorna," he accuses the Queen, chin tilted up slightly, eyes flashing with restrained violence while he steadily closes the distance between them. "Why was I not summoned, and how did they evade my patrols? It should be impossible for Genosha to be attacked by the sea while Atlantis watches. What happened?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna didn't jump, though she was startled by the pressure in the air and the disturbance in the electromagnetic fields that tangled about her as the King of Atlantis flew and landed with force upon the beach in front of her. She stopped, her feet half sunk into the surf and sand where she stood, her arms flying up to block the spray of damp earth that kicked up with his movement.

As Namor approached, his eyes glaring sharply at her, she pursed her lips together, a half scowl on her lips. But it didn't last long as she exhaled a heavy breath and calmly reached up to wipe the sand from her person. "Because they didn't come from the sea.." She muttered, her voice tired, as her green eyed gaze swung back to him.

"It was an internal issue. The Acolytes, led by my secretary, who'd served under my father.. decided they liked my rule better. They ambushed the security detail and attempted to break the bottles that held the bits of Genosha that were stolen. They planned to kill my father." Anger bit into her voice at that, "They were handled. And await the return of my father to pass judgement." She lofted an eyebrow upward.

"I did not ask you to aid me in maintaining my rule or in the inner workings of Genosha and her government. So I did not think it worth attempting to contact you."

Namor has posed:
With the practiced flourish of a well-trained warrior, Namor flips his grip on the all-important Trident of Neptune, the closest thing the King of Atlantis has to a staff of office, and *thunks* the head of it into the sand to stand askew at his side so he can cross his arms over his bare chest. "First you are attacked from the skies, and you fend off the invader. Then you are attacked from the seas, so you negotiate for the aid of Atlantis to help defend you, and now finally you are attacked from within," Namor summarizes with clear exasperation and a slightly relaxed tone now that it's clear his patrols had not failed him. "Your nation seems destined for war," he declares with no small sense of weariness while he turns his gaze past the Genoshan Queen to inspect the island behind her, either unperturbed or unaware of her irritation. "Still, you might have asked for my aid," he mentions with a dismissing wave of his hand, "I will not commit Atlantean lives to the defense of foreign lands, but I have no such reluctance to lend my own strength to defend a..." He looks down to Lorna, dark eyes fixing on her as he studies the Queen for a moment, "Whatever we are."

The Atlantean King then clears his throat and takes a step past Lorna, his gaze falling on the newly formed earthen structure. He can't even guess at its purpose, but he doesn't remember it from his last visit, so he walks a half circle around the Queen before he turns back to her. "How many did you lose?"

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna exhaled a breath, her arms crossing as she rocked back her weight on her heels. She tilted her head back slightly, as if taking measure of the King of Atlantis before her. Particularly as he declared her nation destined for war. "And no one ever tries to test Atlantis' rulers.." She drawled, but her expression softened ever so slightly as he spoke of his willingness to have come defend her on the basis of their rather nebulously described relationship.

As he stepped lightly around her on the sand to stare at the earthen structure in the distance, she kept her position, until he was facing her once more. "None. Of those that are loyal that is. The Acolytes were extremists and zealots from the beginning. They never sat well with me. Their loss isn't that great." Fabian had been running much of the logistics for Genosha's day to day running.. which had put pressure on those not involved to carry the new weight. But she wasn't about to admit to as much.

Her arms loosened and fell back to her sides as she sighed softly. "I'm fine though, thanks for asking." She drawled, shooting him a sidelong glance.

Namor has posed:
"You are not so weak as to be laid low by foolish extremists," Namor counters, unaffected by Lorna's drawl while he looks her over once, briefly. Still, he reaches out a hand to lay it softly on her shoulder before sliding it down to her upper arm and giving her a gentle, reassuring squeeze. For a silent moment he just holds her arm and gaze and does his very best to exude a calm and solid presence before he ultimately retracts his grip, letting his fingers brush along her arm before he returns to crossing his own over his chest.

"Atlantean rulers are tested all the time," he eventually continues, studying her intently, "I do not impugn your ability to lead, but you must also admit Genosha has seen quite a bit of blood spilled on her shores in a short period of time." He pauses, almost visibly chewing his words as he considers them, his tone shifting to accommodate the weight of what he's about to propose: "Perhaps it is time we made it clear that your nation does not stand alone." He watches her for a reaction, still as the unmoving earth he stands upon while he waits for an answer.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna's lips twitched briefly with his words, even as he reached out a hand to slide over her arm. She rolled her shoulders back, not bothering to tell him how badly she'd been thrown by the betrayal. Nor that she'd been paralyzed and unable to act either. It wasn't worth the breath it would take. His words were not entirely wrong either. Still, she moved back toward the sea, her feet sinking slightly into the sand as she stepped. "Everytime there is a power change things happen. there are few times in history on the land where a former monarch's return did not cause bloodshed. I can't say that I wasn't shocked, which is why I had heightened security." She paused briefly, and reached up to drag her hands through her hair.

"That and I expected someone to try to stop the bottles from returning. People hate my father after all.." Her voice was dry and filled with faint sardonic amusement. His words about informing the world that Atlantis stood with the island earned a tilt of her head.

"If it was an outside threat I can see that as being useful, yes.. but I hardly see that stopping internal disputes either." She mused, "And moreover.. How would you suggest demonstrating that? Wakanda announced it on television that they would aid Genosha."

Namor has posed:
"It would be slightly more effective if I had shown up and helped put down the rebellion," Namor informs Lorna even as she shrugs out of his grasp and walks away, his brows knitting together as he eyes her back. It's not concern her wears, or even puzzlement, but he's clearly unhappy with things as they are. Still, there is a certain decorum a King must maintain, even more so if that King is the Emperor of the Deep. He doesn't follow her, only holds his ground a mere step or two from his royal weapon thrust into the sand. "However, we merely need to make it clear Atlantis supports the stability of Genosha and will act to defend it from outside and internal threats -- or at least we simply need to make it appear to be the case," he states with resolve.

At the mention of Wakanda, Namor just laughs, a harsh derisive bark meant as a statement more than a sign of true humor. "I suppose T'Challa held a press conference, stating in pretty words that he stands with Genosha? I'm sure he also listed or even showed all the resources he was donating, yes? A weak man's idea of a statement. I have something better in mind."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna turned back to him, her head tilting to the side as she considered the Sea King before her. "It happened rapidly, it was hardly something drawn out for me to summon you to. Perhaps I could have asked you to be there for the escorting of the bottles, yes.. but..." She drew back to him, padding softly on the sand among the shoreline and damp earth. She reached out a hand toward him and it fell short before she bit her lower lip.

"You said yourself we can't be anything official in Atlantis. And I get it. I can argue why you'd help defend Genosha from the outside... But internally? It looks.. less than ideal." She pursed her lips together, and reached up to rake her hands through her green curls. "Perhaps I shouldn't be bothered with such appearances, not when we've lost so much and you're offering to put yourself on the line." She exhaled roughly and looked back to him, halting in her limited pacing motions. "...I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it before. I honestly.. didn't think you'd want to be troubled with whatever was going on up here." She looked away at that, down at the sand that was slowly darkening with the coming night as the sun dipped lower on the horizon.

"He did hold a press conference, but he backed it up with material support that we needed. He was the first to help." She shrugged, and as he spoke of having something better in mind, she arched a brow upward in question.

Namor has posed:
Namor may be all hard angles and strength when it counts -- and just generally as a default -- but that doesn't mean he's heartless. In fact if anything, a large part of his problem is that he has too much passion, and he just generally has a lot of good reasons to be angry or violent. However, as Lorna turns back on the beach and starts to approach, her hand coming up only to stop short, he's quick to close the remaining distance and catch her fingertips with his. It's hardly a loving embrace, but that bare touch is enough to anchor them together. "I'm not..." He pauses, disliking the indulgent current in his tone, taking a moment to adjust to something more steady, "I did not mean to imply you had anything to apologize for. You are a Queen, and you must stand by your decisions. I understand that. Simply know that even if Atlantis can not act, I can and will. If you need my help, ask for it. I will do what I can."

As for his proposed statement, Namor just smiles a bit, his grin going lopsided while he turns his gaze out over the ocean. "I was thinking something a bit more... decisive," he declares cryptically, clearly unwilling to reveal everything he's got hidden up his non-existent sleeve. "When the opportunity arrives, I'll let you know. Just be sure to have a media team on stand-by for the next couple weeks. We'll give the world a show that'll make them second guess any plans they have for Genosha." A pause as he looks back to Lorna, considering her for a moment before his gaze continues to swing on inland. "As for internal threats? I can't offer much help. Even if I could pledge the Atlantean intelligence network to your cause, they would be of limited use here."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Lorna blinked up at him, her eyebrows furrowing together as he captured her hand and held it. She extended it, threading her fingers through with his if allowed. A small smile warmed her expression as she watched him. Her thumb would run against his knuckles that held her hand gently as he continued to speak. "Alright...." She glanced down at their entwined hands and exhaled a breath.

"I'll admit that I just... I've spent a while thinking about everything. About whatever it is we're doing. What we are.. and I realized I hardly know you. I don't know how long you've been King. I don't know what your favorite wine is... how much I could ask of your or your time. You spoke of previous lovers.. and I just.. I figured that must be all I am. Just with a political alliance in the mix." She exhaled a long breath at that, the admittance difficult to get out, with all her thoughts in a jumble. But she'd managed, and her voice for the most part remained even and steady as she looked up at him.

His smile regarding his plans for an announcement earned a bit of a raised eyebrow from the Genoshan Queen, and but neither did she demand more of explanation on it. "I don't need a spy network.."

Namor has posed:
Namor certainly doesn't pull his hand away when Lorna laces her fingers in with his, instead opting to pull her just a bit closer. Not enough to cause a scandal if they were caught, but more than is necessarily explainable as a conversational distance between two Monarchs. "I am a King," Namor begins simply and with confidence, electing to address the stickiest topic first, "Not a common drunkard in a bar. My life has been long and filled with many pleasures and joys, and I anticipate that trend to continue, but I do not treat those with whom I have shared a night as disposable conquests. We may or may not ever name this thing between us, and it may die tonight on this beach or continue for decades hence, but whatever the future may hold, you are someone who has earned the respect and interest of the Lord of the Seven Seas." As if this should explain everything, he treats her to an imperious and determined nod, sure in the fact that he's settled any questions as to their standing.

"I have been King for twenty five years," he explains, clearly beginning to attempt to answer each of her questions in order, "I prefer a good port, and you can ask of me whatever you wish. My ability or willingness to fulfill your request is another matter, but I can tell you with certainty you hold a particular advantage than the average Atlantean supplicant." The last is a bit vague of course, but he flashes her a faint smile that speaks to his good humor. "What I can tell you with certainty, is that unless something unforeseen changes, you are welcome in Atlantis whenever you wish to come. Your rooms are yours, and I will do what I can to set aside time to spend with you if you do find yourself in need of... royal entertainment."

Lorna Dane has posed:
The talk of political plans, and intrigues died away as he tugged her closer to him. The sunset dipping ever lower to cast the island in a hazy gloom of coming night. Her other hand reached up to settle on his arm, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased at his words. "Oh.." She offered softly, and perhaps his nod had settled something, or at least closed that part of her concerns with his words.

"Tawny or ruby port?" She shot back with a smile, tilting her head to peer up at him. "Do you have any other family? Siblings?" Perhaps it was a little twenty questions, but she'd been curious, and being given permission to pepper him with questions was too tempting either way.

"Have you ever seen The Little Mermaid?" Her lips quirked up a little into a barely restrained smile at that last question, and it was clear there was a faint teasing quality to it. As if realizing the silliness of it all either way. She shifted her hand upward to brush against his cheek.

"I want to know more about you because from what I've seen of you, I like. You're honorable. And generous even if you don't think you are. You're thoughtful. And you care deeply about what matters to you." She murmured softly, her green eyes scanned his features. "You can tell me if I'm wrong, but that is what I've seen. And those are the important parts. I don't want whatever this is to end tonight on this beach."

Namor has posed:
"Vintage," Namor offers with a faint answering smile as Lorna continues to quiz him, "Though between those two? Tawny." Family... always a mixed bag. Namor simply grimaces at the question, though his disgust is clearly directed at the topic rather than Lorna's willingness to bring it up, and even still it's mild. "An extensive family, full of royal cousins and distant uncles. None worth mentioning now," the King states with finality, softening the heavy tone and grimace by lifting the Queen's hand to brush a soft kiss to her knuckles before he continues on. "I have seen many little mermaids, you will have to be more specific," Namor offers utterly deadpan, perhaps even a little confused, and very obviously not at all sure what Lorna's referring to.

For the rest, he simply laughs soft and easily, a far more gentle sound than his earlier bark. "I am no more or less generous than I have to be, which I would argue does not make me particularly generous at all," he retorts, but there's no strength behind his words, no resolve to argue out the point. "I have no desire to end whatever this is tonight either. In fact, I do believe I have a different plan for tonight, though the beach may be a bit conspicuous." Even as he speaks the words, he steps in closer to Lorna, a hand dropping to her hip as he gives her a pointed look and cocked grin. "I do have a different locale in mind, however," he suggests, immediately tilting a glance up towards the skies above.