View source for 3602/THIS IS A SCENE AND OK THERE'S WATER BUT THERE'S A BOAT TOO!

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/09/28
|Location=Atlantic Ocean Coastline
|Synopsis=Mera hassles Arthur and says he stinks.
|Cast of Characters=1917,405
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:1917|Mera (1917)}} has posed:'''<br>The Sea Change is a nice ship. Not quite a first-class luxury yacht, but certainly not something looks like a working ship. Definitely something that looks like it belongs to someone with means, though. Mera stalks up the gangplank, leading the way into the living area of the ship and gesturing him toward the bathroom. The fact that it's an actual bathroom of reasonable size speaks to the quality of the ship itself. <br><br>"Feel free to clean yourself up," she invites, opening a closet and reaching past the clothes to push a hidden catch at the back. Inside are some vague, unmarked boxes, out of which she manages to pull a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Probably better not to ask why she has those things.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:405|Arthur Curry (405)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Stomping down the steps heavily, with a thud/thud/thud of boots, Arthur ascends onto the yacht and across the gangplank, then back down toward the living area and being gestured to the bathroom. Which, in turns, takes him into the depths of the hold and the cabin which has him lingering for a bit...<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Since Arthur... is terribly nosey. He doesn't immediately move to the bathroom, but instead casually starts poking and prodding at whatever knickknacks there might be, picking up things that clearly he shouldn't, and looking around with an open inquisitiveness.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And then he opens his big mouth, "Looks like they pay the royalty pretty well, do you have a treasury you draw on or do you just directly steal the money from your subjects?" Judgmental ass that he is.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1917|Mera (1917)}} has posed:'''<br>Mera snorts softly, tossing the clean clothes onto the bathroom counter. "Pay? No. This is..." She looks upwards, not quite rolling her eyes. "A combination of various things. A few rescued treasures, some money from the occasional singing job, a few big wins at a very private card table, and a deal from someone who owed me for a favor. Not," she adds archly, "That it's any of your business."<br><br>Pointing toward the bathroom, she starts toward the door. "Please. You'll find everything you need in the shower." Preferably //before// the smell sinks into her upholstery.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:405|Arthur Curry (405)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yeah, lots of things aren't my business, but I'm a curious sort." He says that while still fiddling around and taking his time toward the bathroom, then accepts the t-shirt and sweats, looking down at her hand, then up in her eyes, then back over toward the facilities. He makes a small face, grumbling and exhaling as he strokes his beard with two fingers. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Why don't you just tell me what you're gonna tell me while I wake up and shower, yell through the door or whatever. It'll save time." After he says that he finally starts to move to the bathroom, then shoulders the door open, strolling in and closing the door mostly save for a small crack that she can yell through. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;An instant later she'll hear the water going.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1917|Mera (1917)}} has posed:'''<br>Mera //could// shout in. Or she could completely ignore him and do what she intended to do in the first place. She chooses the second, walking out of the room as soon as she hears the water running.<br><br>Lest he expect her offer of food meant he was going to get some sort of home-cooked meal...that is not the case. Mera is not the cooking sort. But she does have pop tarts and a toaster. That's what they eat up here, right?<br><br>She drops the pop tarts into the toaster, hits the button, then moves to settle comfortable on the couch and wait for him to finish getting bearable.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:405|Arthur Curry (405)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It doesn't take /too/ long, though perhaps longer than she expected since to be fair morning recovery after a hangover and a night out on the town is a ritual unto itself. There are times when one just has to stand there under the water and stare off into the distance, then eventually realize and remember where you are and what you're supposedly doing. But then, of course, after he washes off all the soap and shampoo and gets out and dries off, there's the hair. Gotta deal with the hair.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Which is why when Arthur reappears in those sweats and a t-shirt he also has a towel wrapped around his head like a beehive looking... entirely domesticated at least in that one way.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Alright, lady." He crosses the way barefoot, the clothes sticking to him a bit from places where he didn't dry completely well enough. Then he drops into a nearby chair and squeezes that towel in strategic locations to further dry his hair. "This is the best me yer gonna get, so spill it."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1917|Mera (1917)}} has posed:'''<br>When he comes out, Mera gets up long enough to toss the pop tarts onto a plate and slide it down in front of herself. "Me spill it?" she arches a brow. "I was rather hoping //you// would spill it." She shifts to sit up straight, as if she were on a throne rather than a couch.<br><br>"Some nights ago, I was visited by a group of refugees from Xebel. They spoke of attacks from the deep, of creatures not seen in many centuries. Of the war beasts going mad with rage or fear. I don't know for certain the state of the kingdom, but it sounds...It sounds as though Xebel may have fallen."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:405|Arthur Curry (405)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The tall man eyes her from across the room, then the poptarts, but makes no move on them yet. Instead sort of gauging her as she speaks and listening. Near the end he starts to nod as if starting to understand a bit of the larger picture then tells her, "I don't have a lot to tell. Two incidents. Cruise ship was accosted by the deep lurking folk. Only heard stories about them, though one was a nasty siren character. Made people dance to her will, even after they were dead. Rotten business."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He waves a hand to the side, "Wasn't much to draw upon, save that it seemed like an effort by someone who was... displaced out of their natural whatever." Habitat is probably the word he's looking for.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Second incident, some friends of mine lost this statue, we went and recovered it. Something that more of those lurkers were worshiping. Nasty business, going to take it to one of the finger-wigglers and get them to take a look." A magic-user.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1917|Mera (1917)}} has posed:'''<br>Mera grimaces, her jaw setting with some sort of determination. Determination to do //what// is probably the larger concern. "I see," she says, voice cool. "And have you taken any steps to share this information with the rest of Atlantis?" She arches a brow, fingers tapping sharply at the arm of the couch.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:405|Arthur Curry (405)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;A hand lifts to hold off that severity as he says, "I don't exactly get a warm greeting in Namor's court. But his current piece of eye-candy was there during the cruise ship, so I reckon she likely told him about it. Then again he seems like the guy that's not big into... dialogue."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Whatever that might mean.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He holds up a hand, "I get the vibe though, that if things are this visible to the surface world, then he's gotta have his finger on the pulse of the matter. Or else I made a mistake letting him be king or whatever."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;That said he crinkles his nose and gestures to the side. "In any case, what makes you think from this... that Xebel's destroyed?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1917|Mera (1917)}} has posed:'''<br>"Just because I left Atlantis doesn't mean I left all of my sources behind," Mera sniffs, waving one hand in a sharp, dismissive motion. "After the refugees arrived here, I started gathering my own information. No one's seen Hila or Nereus since it happened. Waves of refugees are arriving in Atlantis as well. Whatever happened..."<br><br>She takes a deep breath as she trails off, bracing herself. "It does not bode well for Xebel." Some part of what he said piques her interest though, a brow archnig. "Current piece of eye-candy?" she echoes.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:405|Arthur Curry (405)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Some Genosha gal. High muckity muck something or other." Dismissive, assuredly, but then again he likely feels the same way about the British Royals or whomever gets slapped onto the cover of People these days. His head tilts to the side, then back. "She lost her head when the siren started singing, one of her own people had to take her out of the fight while we handled it." No judgment there, just a stating of facts. Though likely he'd relate his own efforts in the same tone of voice.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"But that's bad news. I'll head down to see if I can touch base with his kingliness and see what there is to be seen." At least, if nothing else, she's motivated him to action.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1917|Mera (1917)}} has posed:'''<br>Mera files //that// information away for later. Not that she necessarily has any designs on Namor, but there's really something to be said for the purity of the bloodlines. Even if both claimants to the throne are halfbreeds.<br><br>"I would appreciate that," she says instead, inclining her head ever so slightly. "I suppose...it would be best if I went for myself as well. Someone will need to speak for the people of Xebel." <br><br>Shockingly, she doesn't seem to trust Arthur to handle that.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:405|Arthur Curry (405)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Or." Arthur starts to say as he pulls off that towel, his long hair pulled back and in that halfway state between wet and dry. He ruffles it with one burly hand and grimaces a little before he looks at her. "You could go down and chat with the guy and come back and tell me what's what."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Though after he says that he hedges his bets by holding up a hand and saying, "Just an idea. We're brain-storming here. I just know Namor'll be just as likely to say hello as to sic the guards on me. And then I'd just have to make them all look bad and that's not a good time for anyone."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Arrogant jerk that he is.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1917|Mera (1917)}} has posed:'''<br>Mera snorts softly, leaning back into the corner of the couch as she watches him. There's something intensely...judgmental in it. Not necessarily a positive or negative judgment in particular, but she's judging. <br><br>"What, precisely, is the nature of your relationship with Namor?" she asks, head tilting.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:405|Arthur Curry (405)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;The tall man's features twist as he holds up a hand, then lowers it with a hint of exasperation. He looks to the side, then back and murmurs. "Ehn, it's complicated. Both with a claim to the throne. I went and recovered King Atlann's trident, brought it with me, was all ready to oust him. There were some clashes, a lot of people in his kingdom don't want him to be king. Think that's more the case than anyone really wanting me to be king. We met, talked, forged a detente eventually since at the time... needed to focus on the League and the surface. Told him don't be evil and if he stays unevil then we're cool."<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As simple as that. "If he goes all batshit crazy, then yeah we'll have an issue probably." He flares his hands again and then leans forwards finally... and liberates a pop-tart.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1917|Mera (1917)}} has posed:'''<br>Mera listens...then sighs heavily, looking as though she wishes she hadn't asked. Boys. Who lets them run anything? Pressing the tips of her fingers to her brow, she reluctantly nods. "I see," she drawls. "Well. That is...very big of you." Or sad for the monarchy in general. Probably the sad one. <br><br>"I will be checking in on Atlantis and with Namor myself, yes," she admits. "But. If you've had run-ins with these things, it would probably also be for the best if you shared that information with him as well."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:405|Arthur Curry (405)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Alright," He pushes himself to his feet, rising to his considerable height and then nods to her. "If we're done here." He gives a nod to her and then glances at the door that leads out of the cabin and back up on deck of her yacht. A breath is taken then he murmurs, "Thanks. For the..." He touches a hand to the t-shirt he's wearing.<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"And the shower." He adds, perhaps for completeness' sake. <br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Then he does another glance at the door before looking back at her. "You able to find me again if needs be?" He asks as he turns and starts to walk to the stairwell, "I live in a lighthouse, in Maine." If that means anything to her. "In Amnesty Bay." That narrows it down.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:1917|Mera (1917)}} has posed:'''<br>"Amnesty Bay," Mera echoes, nodding once. "Yes, I know the place. I'll let you know if I hear anything new." She stands as he does, once again not seeming intimidated by his height. <br><br>"You're welcome. As is the rest of the world," she adds with a faint smirk. "Hopefully you and Namor can come to terms on this front."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:405|Arthur Curry (405)}} has posed:'''<br>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Yeah," Arthur says as he walks toward the door. "I wouldn't hold my breath." And then steps on out.<br> <br>
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