3883/Sooommme WHEEERRE! Over the... water

Sooommme WHEEERRE! Over the... water
Date of Scene:	21 October 2020
Location:	Atlantic Ocean
Synopsis:	First meeting, sharing backstories, and COOKING FRESH FISH! YUM!
Cast of Characters:	Nita Prentiss, Hyperion

---

Nita Prentiss has posed:
A long stretch of pristine beach sheltered by cliffs has no one on it, remarkable for the overpopulated eastern seaboard. The sky lightens, revealing a wavering line of wet sand left by the retreating tide. Foam deposited by a wave hisses and disappears into its grey lip.

Out of the last wave, a spear tip emerges with a fish wiggling on it, followed by a blonde head, slim shoulders, and an athletic woman's svelte form clad in an emerald green one-piece suit. Namorita leaves the water, striding to a boulder where a basket sits; a track of vee-shaped impressions flatten and disappear into the sand behind her.

Hyperion has posed:
    Nobody on the beach. That much is correct. But high above, atop those cliffs... Hyperion sits. His cape curled to one side so as not to catch or pin it under his rump, the man is watching the sunrise.
    He doesn't really sleep. Okay, once in a while. But the energy within him sustains him more often than not. However, seventy or so feet up on top of the cliffs, his sharp eyes still track to movement that seems out of the ordinary. The black of his bodysuit absorbs sunlight and warms up while the metallic golden sheen of his strongman style belt, bracers and boots glint light to those who may look up his way.
    But when he spots a spear-wielding woman step out of the surf, he lifts a brow and stands slowly to his feet. His goal is to give her a chance to see him before he .... drops in to say hi. Pun intended.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Alert as the wild things she was swimming among, Nita pauses and settles her foot to the ground, an unseen presence sensed but not yet seen. Pretending indifference, she deftly pulls the fish off the spear, the offering from the sea laid carefully next to the waiting basket.

With a quick flex of her wrist she hefts the spear, holding it at the ready and raises her eyes searching the cliffs that loom above her. Another wave laps the shore leaving trailing fingers of foam that stand on the sand then disappear. Keen eyes focus on the glint of metal in the rising sun, the red hair catches the light. She lifts the spear in an ambiguous gesture. Greeting or threat? Head tilted to one side, the tip of a pointed ear protrudes as she fixes the intruder with sea blue eyes.

"Stranger," she calls. "Out swimming?"

Hyperion has posed:
    Stepping off the cliff, the black and gold clad hero appears as if he had just hit -down- on an elevator. He floats down at a non-aggressive speed and his boots crunch into the sand a few yards away. "Forgive the intrusion please." he says in a rich tenor voice. "I was told that this was a good place to view the sunrise from... or rather." His thumb jerks up and behind him. "Up there is supposed to be a good place for such. I meant no intrusion or offense."
    He studies her though, and then tilts his head to one side, "Aquatic, not merely a good swimmer, yes?" he asks.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Namorita follows Hyperion's slow descent with the focus of a predator, eyes unwavering, the spear still cocked back over her shoulder. She holds it without effort, making it appear lightweight, a testimony to her considerable strength.

Her widely spaced eyes, high cheek bones and the point of her ears mark her as someone outside the human norm. Two white wings flutter at her ankles, further evidence that she is not a simple human beachcomber out enjoying spearfishing but someone different.
Mimicking the tilt of his head, she remains silent, lips pursed, eyes narrowed as she considers the man. A decision is made and she lowers the spear, she observes, unsmiling, "I've never looked down from the cliffs but I like the swimming here. Who are you?"

Hyperion has posed:
    Nodding at her reply, the man in black remains a few feet away. Enough to converse without invading personal space. "A fighter. A soldier. Skilled with natural talent and strength. Impressive." he states before he turns his attention from the quick scan of a potential rival, into a smile aimed at the face. "I am Hyperion. I am not your enemy unless you wish to make me so. I... would not recommend that."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Her uptilted eyebrows rise in wonder at his frank appraisal of her, a corner of her mouth pulling down in disbelief when he recommends them not becoming enemies.

"Hyperion? Oh? Not your average, everyday tourist from the look of it. Are you one of the Asgardians? You certainly don't seem to be...from around here. I digress. I am Namorita Prentiss, and yes, aquatic." Oddly, she leaves her title aside. She stands with all the assurance of a princess receiving someone in her throne room.

"Did you enjoy the view?"

Hyperion has posed:
    Left side of his mouth quirking up a tiny bit, Hyperion seems to smirk just a little. He reaches to clasp hands behind his back, under the cape. "Heavens no. I am no Asgardian. My chosen moniker is based on Greek mythology. Hyperion was the strongest of the Titans."
    At that, he pauses and shakes his head. "Wow, it never occurred to me how Narcisitic that moniker makes me sound." And then he chuckles softly, "Well, I did enjoy the view. Yes. If you are asking if I enjoyed watching -you-, I will say that I enjoy observing anyone and everyone."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
The young woman straightens, fixing Hyperion with a stare that would make most reconsider their words. Relaxed and sure of her own beauty, she's not beyond flaunting it when the mood is on her. "How very democratic of you," she observes dryly.

The fish she caught, large enough for two to eat comfortably lays drying on the rock. "I was about to fix myself something to eat." She motions to the pile of firewood, neatly made up and ready to be lit, next to it is a makeshift grill made of water soaked branches. "You're welcome to join me."

Hyperion has posed:
    One of those people who just never seems flustered by evil glares he gets from others, Hyperion inclines his head. "But yes, the sunrise is lovely from up there. I am sure it is lovely from anywhere really. Just a touch different than what I am used to, but... lovely." Yeah. To a man who can see the entire EM Spectrum, the sun of an alternate universe is going to appear different.
    And then.. fresh seafood is mentioned. His eyes flicker to the campsite and then his brows go up. "Interesting." he states, "Do you live here? Or merely visit from time to time?" he asks as he turns to approach the campsite, "I would be honored to accept your invitation." he says.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"You really are not from around here," she walks over to the fire and kneels beside it, lighting the fire with deftness of someone who has done it before. She remains by the fire to assure herself that it has caught.

Looking up at him, her eyes spark mischievously when she asks, "I don't live here, exactly," she gestures to the beach then the ocean. "This is one of the many lovely beaches on this planet. Someplace I like to come to recharge and relax. So, where do you come from Hyperion? What do you do when you are not enjoying the view of the rising sun over the Atlantic ocean and flying?"

Hyperion has posed:
    The thought of lighting a fire the old fashioned way makes Hyperion ponder offering to help. But it is not his campsite. So he just shrugs and waits patiently. "I am currently learning this world's ways." he says, "I am... a visitor from afar you might say. I am trying to learn how to control my abilities in an environment where they are more potent than they ever were where I am from."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
The fire takes and begins to crackle as the flames leap from branch to branch. Namorita rises in a single fluid motion from its side to turn a quizzical stare on Hyperion.

"You are very careful, aren't you? You sound like you're from another planet. In case you haven't twigged to it yet. I'm not one of the bad ones though; I suppose a really bad one might say just that."

Rolling her eyes, she shrugs theatrically and goes to the basket to remove a filleting knife from it. Talking to him over her shoulder, she guts the fish in a single swipe of the blade, scoops out the guts, and removes the gills. "Are you saying that you are very strong?" With the fish hanging from two fingers, she skirts the boulder and walks down to the edge of the water. Using the back of the knife, she takes off the scales. A quick rinse for the fish in the ocean, and she returns to the brightly burning fire.

Hyperion has posed:
    The fire dancing on the wood lights up in his eyes. Or at least the reflection does. "I think I am from a bit further away than that." he admits, "And please forgive me for the care with which I speak. It is... not always readily evident whom I can speak openly with about such things. Tell me... the stories of Atlantis where I am from say it sank beneath the seas, and here I have heard of their population being active and aquatic. Not so where I am from... is that your home?" he asks.
    "Wait. Before you answer that, you are right. I am being far too careful while at the same time asking you too many questions."
    He moves along with as you wash the fish, and then he finds a place to sit near the fire. "I was brought here from... a different Earth with very different history. I suppose the scientific principle of yarn theory has been proven. At least to me."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Unceremoniously, Nita scoops the guts and gills off the rock into small pot she extracts from her basket to dump them on the shore. The triangular shape of a sea eagle descends from the cliff overhead to snatch up the easy catch. With a sideways look it eyes her, and then nonchalantly hops over to its breakfast.

Nita returns to the rock with water and washes it off, "Flies," she explains, seemingly ignoring his revelations about being extraterrestrial.

The same basket produces a blanket that she whips open and spreads out before circling her hand into an elaborate invitation to seat himself. "Sit down if you like."

Picking up the wet stick, she threads it through the tail under the spine and out its mouth, talking as she works, "Wait, yarn theory? String theory, right? Multiple universes existing side by side. You are really really really not from here. Wow," she mutters, she holds the fish out to admire her work.

Back at the side of the fire, she sets up two sticks with Y-shaped branches on them. Careful of the flames she sets the skewered fish into the notches.

"Do you like to swim?" she asks, taking her eyes off the cooking fish. She works her way back to his surmise about her home. "I do come from Atlantis which is deep in the ocean. I'm sorry it didn't survive in your world. It is a beautiful place. And, yes. My home. Well, one of my homes."

Hyperion has posed:
    Nodding, Hyperion does sit as bidden. He waits for Nita to work through the mental processes of his revelations. But when she does, he just smiles tightly. "Correct. Not from around here. Or as others have said... I'm from out of town."
    That said, he inclines his head and says, "Had I full control of my powers, I could cook the fish with just a look. For now, I don't want to reduce it to molecular ash so I think I will not make the offer." he says before turning her way and nodding, "Swimming is a fantastic workout, and it is fun also. And... for all I know, Atlantis -did- survive in my world. They may have just not revealed themselves to the surface."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
The hint of a smile plays on her mouth as she teases, "Ah, but will it have that smokey taste of wood if you, ah, cook it with your eyes?"

Unfazed as only someone who is considered to be among the super powered might be, she doesn't delve into his powers, only observing, "You sound so much like the man we call Superman. He flies. Well, there is not much he doesn't do. Have you met yet?"

She rolls the fish with care because of its odd balance, dividing her attention between it and Hyperion. "It sounds like you're really not sure about overstepping your bounds. That must be miserable. Have you been practicing?"

Hyperion has posed:
    "Right. Flavor." offers Hyperion with a nod of his head. "You make a persuasive argument." he states.

    And then he chuckles, "Yes, I have met him. In fact, he is helping me learn to control my newly -boosted- powers. I have a theory that on the yarn strand which contains my world... I may be a version of him. We really -are- so very similar."
    "My powers are fueled by the ambient cosmic energy flowing through me.. and there is something like two and a half times the energy in this universe than there is in my home one."
    A sigh, and Hyperion shakes his head. "I worry that I will kill somebody if I do not perfect my abilities again. So I have tried to avoid stopping criminals for fear of crushing one when I grab him."

Nita Prentiss has posed:
"Flavor," she agrees, smiling. Namorita's instincts run strongly; she finds she trusts this man from another universe. He strikes her as someone innately good. A quality that often seems lacking to her surrounded by the maneuvering of the royal court in Atlantis and the dry-land politicians. Her gaze turns inward as she tends their meal.

"Some people wouldn't bother learning. What are you doing to practice avoiding inadvertently trash compacting a criminal?"

Hyperion has posed:
    Stretching one leg out before him, Hyperion bends his other knee, curling his heel back towards his thigh. His head tilts a bit and chuckles, "Well, speaking of compactors." he says before bobbing his head in a nod, "I have been spending time at a scrapyard. Learning to open car doors without ripping them off. Learning to lift a car without pulling it in half. Things like that. I figure that baby steps are the way to do things. Once I stop cratering the metal of the car, then I can move on to something softer. Eventually maybe I will be able to grab a human without turning them into a pretzel by accident."
    A pause and he inclines his head a bit, "I do miss human contact." he says in a sigh, not intending to have spoken aloud it seems, for all that he seems to blush after saying it.

Nita Prentiss has posed:
Nita turns from the fire to shoot him an odd look, flips the fish again, giving it a frowning poke of her finger for doneness. "Hmmmm. That would make giving someone a hug a bit of a problem, I'd say. How's it going? Do you feel like you have to tiptoe everywhere?"