3825/Living Like Royalty

Living Like Royalty
Date of Scene:	15 October 2020
Location:	Throne Room
Synopsis:	Namor gifts Maxima more gifts because royal entitlement is unfair to all. And then they become arrogant crazy people and destroy a random island in a duel.
Cast of Characters:	Namor, Maxima

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Namor has posed:
Living in Atlantis can be a very mixed experience, depending on where you stand in society. But when one is royalty, especially when they're a royal guest, one generally lives it up pretty large.

One of the guest wings of his castle is converted to something more comfortable for Maxima. Water drained, with an airlock in between her and the outside, and a spell cast so that she can breathe in the water as-needed, if she needs such.

She's been given whatever she needs to make the lavish living space as comfortable as possible, but Namor is knocking on her quarters with a large metal box. Not many of the Atlantean servants are capable of entering, so he has to deliver things himself. "It's the king." he says from the other side of the door.

Maxima has posed:
When your sense of grandiousity is measured in terms of the resources of star systems rather than countries living large is a relative thing. Though Atlantis has certainly lived up to the unimaginably high standards of the Crown Princess of Almerac better than any other place she has visited so far. The dwellers on the surface even had the audacity to insist that she /pay/ for things with currency earned by /working/. The entire notion just strains credulity.

At the sound of the King's approach, with but a thought Maxima's outfit shifts from the somehow incredibly flexible metallic robe she was relaxing in to the platemail bikini that she calls armor and normally parades around in. Without getting up from the settee sofa that she has been lounging upon with a gesture the door seems to open of its own accord as she briefly flexes the telekinetic muscles of her mind. "You may enter."

Namor has posed:
"I'd almost think you were the ruler of Atlantis, with the way that you carry yourself." Namor sits the box in the middle of the floor, which suddenly starts to glow with geometric blue seams of energy. "I brought this to you myself."

The box opens and unfolds, forming something of an advanced wardrobe full of the finest Atlantean clothing, some of them with magical glowing jewels or embroidered lines of energy. "I thought you'd like some Atlantean clothing, so I had these made. Of course I'm sure you don't //need// them, but this is an entirely unnecessary gift."

"I trust that you're enjoying yourself." he looks around, taking in the various things she's had done with the place. He hasn't really bothered even checking, he just says yes.

Maxima has posed:
The eternal question, what do you get for the young woman who has literally everything, or close to it.

"If I were to conquer this planet for Almerac, I would certainly make this the capital." Maxima replies with a wry smile as she raises herself off of the settee sofa and step towards the transforming magical box. "What an interesting box you have." She comments as it becomes a wardrobe before her eyes. "These are quite nice." She removes a few of the dresses, turning them this way and that. "I have seen countless jewels from across the galaxy, but these seem.. different. I enjoy their glow."

Namor has posed:
"The jewels in of themselves are quite rare, but they become even more rare and valuable when they've been activated by sorcerers. These simply look nice, but are highly sought after." Namor carefully explains, before motioning to her armor. "I find your armor to be fascinating, it's made of something I'm unfamiliar with. Though, if you're willing to explain, I could explain my trident in exchange."

Maxima has posed:
Maxima studies the jewels a moment longer before looking at Namor again, "Sorcerer? I am not familiar with this word. What is a sorcerer and how would they activate a jewel? Is it like using the unique properties of certain types of gems for energy transfers and power relays?"

She glances down at her armor for a moment when Namor asks his question. "It is a rare precious metal native to the Throneworld of Almerac. It is as much a status symbol as anything else and convenient because it is easily manipulated by my Ferro-kinetic abilities. There is very little I cannot command metal to do."

Namor has posed:
"A sorcerer is someone with the natural genetic ability to wield magic. A category of magic user. Atlantis functions on a mixture of extremely advanced science, and ancient magic." Namor pulls his trident from behind him, proudly propping it up on the floor with a *clink*.

He keeps his word, since she explained her armor. "This is the indestructible trident of the god Neptune. It gives me the ability to access a wide variety of magic abilities, such as control over the seas themselves, storms, or even..." He points the trident at a potted plant, firing a beam of blue magical energy at it, transmuting it into a larger, stranger, alien-looking plant.

"Only the King of Atlantis can wield such power. Though I don't often need to use it, my own personal power is quite adequate for most challenges." He practically flaunts himself and his power without any shame, peering into her as if she hasn't mentioned the vastness of her empire multiple times.

Maxima has posed:
Maxima takes a moment to admire the trident, "Magic you say? Is magic not just a science primitive societies have yet to understand? Many planets conquered by the Blood Houses of the Almeracian Empire have likened our prowess and technologies to some form of magic when it is merely genetic manipulation and engineering at levels beyond their comprehension. Some worlds have called me a goddess, merely because my power was beyond anything they could imagine."

She studies the trident curiously as if trying to see how it works, where might the technological trick be to do the things he says. It would seem that perhaps she does not believe in or perhaps has just never encountered magic before.

Namor has posed:
"Our technology is //already// sufficiently indistinguishable from magic, but this is the Atlantean Empire, we wield absolute prowess over both science and magic, both of which we thoroughly understand the innerworkings of and can wield together." Namor twirls the trident in between his fingers without any effort, and then stands it up straight for her to examine again.

"This trident was passed down from an actual god, and requires a certain level of magical knowledge, and literally being me, to wield." The way that he speaks, every word, is a clear display of power, as if thoroughly explaining himself to her. "Know that the surface world is a mercy, //my// mercy. Not because I wield vast armies, not because we have great weapons, but because I could, with a mere //thought//, flood the surface and wage absolute war."

"The thought of advanced or primitive? To me, anything beneath me is primitive. Imperious Rex. I see no necessity in expanding my empire, I am already the apex of existence." Then, locking eyes with her, he asks, "Do you understand?"

Maxima has posed:
It is almost like Namor is speaking a foreign language at times as he attempts to lay out his distinctions between Science and Magic. She wears the expression of one who believes themselves to be standing upon a primitive backwater of a planet far from civilized space but is attempting to be diplomatic. "Certainly you are the most impressive ruler I have so far encountered on this world. There was another named Doom who also sought to lay claim to the planet. Really I think you should conquer the surface and be done with it. Things are so much more organized and resources able to be used more effectively when a planet is united under a single ruler. If they can be conquered by mere water then washing them away is a mercy in the face of their own weakness."

Namor has posed:
"If I flooded the planet, it would cause mass destruction, but it would be a declaration of war, not an end to their civilization. And I have no desire nor need for their resources, I simply want them to stay //out// of Atlantis." Namor laughs, then, at her compliment, as if he scoffs at something about it.

He slides his trident behind him again, then states, "I am the most impressive ruler that you've ever encountered anywhere." he boldly states, though holds up a finger, as if to silence disagreement, because he isn't done. "If you'd have attempted to conquer anyone as impressive as me, you'd have been repelled. If you'd have encountered anyone greater than me, with no mercy, you'd have likely been entirely destroyed."

"Know that the reason you're here, is because I believe you to be an equal to myself, and I'm interested in seeing how true that is." he admits, standing there, unmoving now.

Maxima has posed:
Maxima's expression becomes very serious, her voice is heard yet her lips do not move as she speaks directly into the mind, the vast presence of her immense psionic power no longer restrained, "Were it not for the hospitality you have shown, I would break your mind here and now. Maxima bows to no one, is defeated by no one, knows no equal. To suggest otherwise is to invite a trial by combat among the warrior caste or to be summarily crushed. Tsunamis? Flooding?" The very room begins to shake with the subconscious telekinetic consequences of her ire, "I could tear the very tectonic plates of this planet apart with my mind. I have marched across countless worlds and never found my equal."

Namor has posed:
"So be it." Namor holds his hand out to her. "So that we can develop mutual respect, it will be a trial by combat. I stated that you are my equal as a show of respect for your power, but now..."

He looks around, noting her display of strength, and psionic power. Perhaps he's an insane person, perhaps he's simply too full of pride, but her display... "You made a show of power, and clearly believe yourself to be superior to myself, so we will find mutual ground where no one will be harmed by our fight, and we will fight. After the fight, we will return here, and you will continue to be spoiled. I simply want to get us to a point where we have a mutual understanding of where, well, we each stand with each other."

Maxima has posed:
And all at once the shaking stops as if Namor said exactly the right thing. This is what Maxima is accustomed to, this is how the Warrior Caste that rule Almeracian Society settle their differences, Trial by Combat.

"Very well, you may choose the battleground." she ascents with a nod of her head, actually speaking aloud once more. "I would experience this strength of yours. That is the only way for warriors to truly understand each other and where they stand."

Namor has posed:
"I made the mistake of treating you with the normal compassion that I show humans I particularly like, but it is clear that you have actual power. So you will prove that you are my equal, and I will prove that I am your equal, or better. I suppose we'll see." Namor guides her out, through the various rooms, until they're in the sea entirely.

He rockets halfway across the planet, and through the air, expecting her to be able to keep up. But even //this// is a show of power, before the fight itself. "We're going to a remote island to fight, in a location where no human or Atlantean will be harmed for miles."

Maxima has posed:
"Maxima requires no compassion." She informs Namor as she follows him through the palace and out into the sea, a field of translucent force surrounding her to keep the water at bay.

She has no trouble keeping up once he takes to the air. The redheaded bombshell rockets through the skies next to Namor rather than following behind, almost like she already knows where they're going. Perhaps she read his mind, perhaps her reflexes and senses are just that sharp to be continually making minute course corrections moment to moment, but she seems intent not to give any ground in terms of shows of power.

Namor has posed:
Soon they come across a rather vast, deserted island. It seems to mostly consist of rocks and large rocky terrain, practically a literal desert.

When he lands, he allows the ground to crack slightly under his feet, watching her. "I have no desire to accidentally kill someone such as yourself, so I would like you to hit me first, so that I can understand if I can use all of my power."

Maxima has posed:
Maxima never even touches down on the island but instead remains floating several centimeters above the ground as if gravity is merely another law that she is not bound by.

Again Namor's words stoke her fiery temper, though a smile curls upon her lips. She is going to enjoy this, apparently. "It is time you learned the might of Almerac."

She moves with a speed that would impress even Kryptonians crossing the distance between them in an instant. While she forgoes opening with any of her fancier powers, she does not hold back either. What comes is a punch, a punch capable of sending Doomsday itself flying. The speed and precision are incredible, guided by an elite warrior's training it is aimed squarely at Namor's solar plexus with no wasted motion at all.

Namor has posed:
Namor couldn't have possibly prepared for //that//. He expected something, but that was just on a different level.

He goes flying across the island like a bullet from the force of her punch, his momentum lasting long enough for him to come out of the shock of the punch in mid-flight.

He has to stop himself, or else he'll just keep going, so he //slams// his feet into the rocky impacted sand terrain, grinding himself to a halt.

Reaching in, he touches the exact spot that impacted him, taking a very deep breath. "So this is who you are... my respect is earned. Now, I'll do you the same courtesy."

He clears the distance with lightning speed, creating a sonic boom as he appears in front of her in a blur, just as she did him, and he slams his foot directly at her abdomen with enough force that, if aimed down, could have likely cracked the island itself. "There's something pleasing about not being disappointed for once." he deadpans a compliment.

Maxima has posed:
Maxima seems to watch him come, her eyes capable of tracking even the tremendous speed. She makes no move to dodge, not because she underestimates the blow but because an Almeracian Warrior's Honor demands it. He gave her a free hit and now she seems to be allowing one in return.

The blow is powerful enough that for the few seconds it takes her to recover from the initial impact, she too goes flying backwards several meters. However at that point she just seems to freeze in place in mid-air as she regains her composure, halting her momentum through pure telekinetic will. "To think this planet would produce someone of this caliber." Clearly she didn't think so until just a moment ago. It's a compliment in its own way.

Namor has posed:
"Well, now we know that we're both strong... Let's see what happens when we push each other." She has Namor's respect, but he isn't done. He needs to know some things.

He blurs in Maxima's direction again, this time punching and kicking as he tries to stay on her. He's much more careful about retaliation, but he tries to push her more nonetheless.

Each punch and kick creates something of a shockwave, trying to push her as far as possible. "After today I think I'll have the view in your room improved."

Maxima has posed:
"You have fared better than most I will grant you that." Maxima's eyes follow Namor's movements, she's fast, incredibly fast but beyond that her senses are also capable of keeping up with the speed as she blocks, parries, and counter-attacks weathering the flurry of blows.

She seems somewhat impressed by the first blow that creates a shockwave, cracks appearing in the island below. However she manages to parry it even as she moves off the line of attack, "Oh? It seems you've been holding back. Good. Show me more." She actually seems /pleased/ by this fact. For her part Maxima is still not standing directly upon the island, and as such is paying little heed to the effects on the ground beneath them as her own blows are ferocious enough to unleash shockwaves of their own.

A punch is met with solid bone of her forearm colliding with the outside of the incoming limb, the sound of the impact likely echoing for miles, even as her stance twists like a pirouetting ballerina moving into Namor's space with a spinning backfist swinging towards the temple with incredible force even as her right leg is drawn quickly in and thrust out again in a vicious kick aimed at the back of his knee. The combination is performed with the military precision of having been drilled countless times and executed by a prodigy.

Namor has posed:
Namor is blocking and parrying as well, but keeping his eyes open to analyze her movements, to get a feel for the kind of person he's fighting. He remains on the defense, as she's incredibly dangerous. But her swift fist finds his temple, and for a moment he can hear ringing. This is enough of a stun to make him easily vulnerable to his entire body flipping backward. But before his back can quite hit the ground, he stops himself in the air, staring at her.

"I've fared better than most because most are inferior to me." He floats back upright, shaking his head as the ringing stops. "You've conquered countless planets, this is true. But there are billions of people on this planet, and few can truly stand up to who and what I am. I assume the same to be true for these planets you've conquered. To them, you are truly some sort of god. To me, you are an equal, a challenge."

He draws his trident, then holds it up into the air, the sky darkening as thunder and lightning begins to form. Much like what Maxima displayed before this fight even started, the ground begins to shake beneath them. "I am not a god, but wielding the power of one is simply my birthright. Imperious Rex!!!"

Not moving from where he floats across from her, he aims his trident directly in Maxima's direction, multiple bolts of bright lightning flashing from the sky and into his trident, before he fires a large beam of magical energy directly at her. "If magic is only science too complicated for less advanced races to understand, then perhaps you don't understand Atlantean science."

This is a joke, but Namor's incredibly deadpan tone makes that a difficult read.

Maxima has posed:
Maxima floats there in the air again, still several inches off the ground as she watches Namor, "You certainly seem to have what it takes, to stand at the head of a Blood House. Our empire does not normally produce men, the options for combining superior genetic lineages are just so much more varied for female biology. However superior lineages are still recognized, inducted into an existing Blood House or allowed to form a new Frontier Blood House over the worlds they have conquered."

When the lightning arcs across the space between them and the smell of ozone fills the air fills the air, Maxima remains where she is watching it come. The result is not what she expected, but today has been full of surprises. As the lightning impacts with her body and begins to actually singe her skin and cause her muscles to tense and lock up against their will, it is a new experience for Maxima who is not accustomed to such a thing being able to harm her.

Before she can be overwhelmed by the assault however, a sphere of translucent force appears around her and begins to deflect the lighting that she originally had not even deigned to avoid. "I will not be undone by mere weather. Perhaps there is something to these gods of yours though." Yet the way she says it one can almost imagine thoughts of conquering 'the gods' next going through her head.

"Now it is my turn." She declares rising further off the ground until she is several meters in the air, her eyes begin to glow with raw telekinetic energy before it condenses down into pinpoints before her pupils and blasts forth as a pair of laser-like energy beams straight at Namor.

Namor has posed:
"There are simpler ways to drag me into bed, but I accept the compliment." is Namor's entire response to her explanation of genetic lineages and Blood Houses.

"It is not mere weather, I took the weather and made it something //more//." he explains, bracing himself with her eyes begin glowing. But there's not much to brace himself from, as the beams are so small they slam right into his abdomen and send him straight into the ground, grinding through hardened send until he's laying in a pit of debris and smoke.

He reaches down, touching the painful burn wound on his stomach, wrinkling his nose in surprise at the pain. "Of course, I could say the same for you. Rare is any woman whom I believe would be worthy of standing by my side on the throne of Atlantis."

Carefully pulling himself up, he takes a deep, watching her, contemplating. "The weather in of itself, it can do very little to people like us. But when the weather becomes an extension of us, it's a very simple thing to underestimate it. You've felt the pain of lightning, something so simple yet powerful. But there are far greater pains, things that evoke fear into the heart of anyone who truly does not comprehend the smallness of existence."

"Have you ever feared for your own mortality? Such a fear, consider it my gift to you." He slams the bottom of his trident against the ground once, and then, admist the storm, she can hear something in the distance behind him, perhaps //feel// it.

From all sides of the island, and absolutely massive tsunami approaches. Not some naturally occurring weather pattern, but waves so large that to one the size of a humanoid, they almost appear to tower into the sky. They threaten to swallow the very island.

"You're probably thinking, 'this is mere water, water is nothing to me'. No, Maxima, this is not mere water." He holds the palm of his hand out to her. "If I were a god, you could consider this water to be my fist. Unfathomable to man. You've felt my fists, now imagine them channelled through the power of a god."

Maxima has posed:
Maxima floats there in the are, watching the waves come. A feat like this is certainly proves this is no opponent she can flippantly toy with. No it is on par with many of the greatest feats she has witnessed on the battlefield. "Fear? A true warrior of Almerac knows not fear, death upon the battlefield is among the highest honors for a member of the warrior caste. But this is the first time in awhile I have known real danger."

The raw telekinetic power begins to flow off of her in waves as ceases to restrain it. The entire island begins to shake as unfocused telekinetic power begins to have its way with it, large chunks of rock begin to float in the air ceasing to obey the laws of gravity as the walls of water approach from all sides.

"However, I will not yield to the will of Gods or Men. Know this, where I come from names are not given, they are fought for and taken, and Maxima is the pinnacle of all names!" With that she gathers the sum of her vast telekinetic power about her and blasts it our towards the Tsunamis closing in on the island in a massive counter-wave of pure force, power against power in an unbridled contest of might.

Namor has posed:
"Sir, we're picking up absolutely massive seismic activity... and a circular tsunami in the middle of no where. These coordinates." Someone at a European weather monitoring station says as he points at the screen.

The supervisor, a middle-aged woman, walks over and turns on the satellite feed, zooming it in. "It's Namor, and someone fighting Namor. Just keep everyone away from it and they'll go away."

Meanwhile, at the battle, Namor crashes those intense waves down, while the rocks of the island float up into it, and soon everything just crashes into each other, creating kinetic sounds so loud that they can likely be heard for many miles.

Soon, there's just massive rocks and water falling everywhere, a mist left over from the forces. Below them the island is entirely destroyed, debris for miles. But Namor stands there, watching her as things begin to calm.

He slowly begins to float over to her, then offers his hand once he puts his trident away. "I'm refraining from speaking, I want my heart rate to lower before I make any marriage proposals."

Maxima has posed:
A semi-spherical translucent barrier of energy is brought into existence above Maxima in the aftermath protecting her from the falling water and debris like some sort of huge telekinetic umbrella.

Her gaze moves in Namor's direction when he approaches, an imperious look in her green eyes, "Marriage?" She seems amused, but not in a mocking way, more that the thought was simply far from her mind. "And would you give this planet and the rest of the Sol system to Almerac as a dowry?" she asks curiously. Given everything else she's already said that may well be a serious question or possibly a polite evasion.

"For now, the safe recovery of my taken people and elimination of my rogue simulacrum must come first. All else must wait." Proud, arrogant, regal, determined, this is Maxima.