6463/Aquarium Encounter, or Two 'Ships in the Night

Aquarium Encounter, or Two 'Ships in the Night
Date of Scene:	05 June 2021
Location:	Metropolis University Oceanographic Institute Aquarium
Synopsis:	Aspen is a bewildered wreck. Namor learns there is more to the world than is taught by his sages and philosophers. Aspen gets an offer she has no idea if she should refuse or not.
Cast of Characters:	Namor, Aspen Matthews

---

Namor has posed:
A lovely day in Metropolis.

Namor rarely visits surface world cities. His duties in Atlantis tend to prevent him from doing so. Not to mention, most surface worlders don't usually enjoy speaking to Namor, mostly because at times? He can be an astronomical dick. Thankfully, he's calmed down in recent years. So, he's dressed in a black shirt, blue jeans, some shoes, and a hat to help hide his identity. Though imagine his surprise when he seems to find a Oceanographic Aquarium.

He had long pondered if the surface worlders truly respected their ocean life, or if that was just most coast cities. So, he decides to head inside and see what he could find. Is he expecting humanity to change its ways? Absolutely not. But who knows, he may yet be surprised.

Aspen Matthews has posed:
"And put your hands together for Dr. Aspen Matthews, the Institute's very own director of Marine Biology!"

In the short hallway leading out to the Big Tank where the audience had just been treated to a thrilling show of the new cetacean tank, the first such tank in the world to be opened to the sea so the tamed whales could have space to just swim, Aspen looked up at the speaker that had announced her. "Oh, you SO didn't do that, Jackson!" she growled.

But Jackson had. And was probably yucking it up in the booth.

Clad in her half-suit with an Institute shirt quickly pulled on over top, Aspen walked out into the limelight, artificial smile on her face as she waved to the crowd. "You and I are going to have words, Jackson. We'd decided I'm not going to be the face of the place," she muttered through gritted teeth to herself.

The disaster, like most disasters, happened as a series of small events, each one on its own not enough to be anything more than an irritation, but that stacked up together into a huge problem. The first was simple. A child lost a marble. One of the institutes souvenier marbles with images of sea creatures on display inside the glass balls.

This trivial problem mounted up a bit as one of the attendees drinking coffee from a thermos stepped on it and stumbled. Only briefly, but it did cause a half cup of hot coffee to hit another patron in the back of the neck. THAT patron stood up and, being clumsy staggered backward, tripping over the seat back now behind him propelling the boy, 13-14 years of age, sitting in that seat forward straight into the glass-lined safety railing that separated the audience from the tank.

The tank that had just, with the whales' removal, closed and released the tiger shark.

That still would not have been a problem had a manufacturing error in one of the bolts holding the glass sheet into place not given way, causing the sheet to spring free of its mounts and into the water, along with the boy, breaking part way and nicking the boy.

Releasing blood.

Into the water.

With a tiger shark in it.

Aspen, seeing the tail end of that (along with everybody else in the audience, and Jackson up in the sound booth), instinctively, without pausing to think even, dove headfirst into the water without any clear plan of what to do.

Namor has posed:
Namor walks in just in time to hear the introduction for Aspen Matthews. Namor will remember the name, seeing as she happens to be the Director here. He crosses his arms over his muscular chest, eyes pointed forward. He's the member of the audience that looks like he's here for some kind of dire business. Though something about all of this seemed to be...well, off.

It was written on the face of everyone here.

Though imagine his surprise when a boy of 13-14 years of age decided to fall into the tank! But of course, something always continues to go wrong. The blood falls into the tank, no doubt making the Tiger shark a bit more bloodthirsty than usual and will attempt to kill the first thing in sight. Though as Aspen jumps into the tank?

Well, Namor has some thinking to do. He could let the child and likely the doctor be killed and mankind recognizes a stupid mistake, or he decides to be a good person and prevent both of them from harm, or try. Its with a deep breath then that Namor comes to his decision:

He tries to communicate wit hthe Tiger Shark telepathically, trying to command it not to attack Aspen or the child. Poseidon knows if it will work though.

Aspen Matthews has posed:
The frenzied shark is not in MUCH of a listening mood, but Namor is a very forceful talker. After making a dash for the blood scent, causing the audience to scream, it obeys and turns away.

Of course Aspen is not privy to this conversation and...

What happens is later a confused mess from eyewitness reports. Eyewitnesses all agree on only one thing: that a freak wave carries the struggling boy, who like most drowning people is splashing so hard he's practically half out of the water anyway, up to where he'd entered the pool and threw him back out, disgorging him on the concrete, uninjured but for the small cut on his upper arm. Coughing, spluttering, bleeding slightly, but very much alive and hale otherwise, he is scooped up by staff members with first aid kits and immediately treated for bleeding, possible partial drowning, and shock.

What caused the wave is unclear, even from Namor's perspective. But two things can be seen clearly by him that audience members, caught up in the drama of the boy, miss.

First, Aspen loses some of her form, going in effect transparent everywhere below the waist.

Second, water moves from her hand in a narrowly-focused vortex straight at the tiger shark (whom she was unaware of no longer being a threat), sending it careering through the water to the other side of the tank where it thrashed, dazed.

The woman, whole once again, swims to the same exit point and gracefully swims up out of the water, leaping out of it like a dolphin.

"It's OK ladies and gentlemen!" she calls out, taking charge. "This was a minor accident and nobody's been seriously hurt. For reasons of safety, however, I would like to see you all move toward the exits in an orderly fashion!"

'Orderly' exit begins. Aspen pinches the bridge of her nose and mutters again to herself.

Namor has posed:
"That shark will trouble you no more than the water will."

Namor's voice is authoritative, yet instructional. He approaches the tank, and places his hand in the water fearlessly to gently rub his hand against the tiger shark's skin. Nice and gentle, as if he were petting a cat. No doubt Namor is still speaking calm over the Tiger, informing it that humans do not understand, and possibly, never will. But Atlanteans and those of the sea must be better.

Show them a new way.

Namor then, shifts his attention to Aspen. "That was a nice trick." He mentions only when all others have gone. "Tell me, are you some kind of magician?" His tone is still soft to avoid wandering eyes and the dropping of eaves. His eyes though, remain firmly on hers, if she sheds attention to him.

Aspen Matthews has posed:
"Which trick?" Aspen says, face blank except for a hint of nervousness in the flick of her eyes toward the water. "Diving stupidly into a tank with a shark without any of the shark handling equipment? Yes, that was a great trick not getting bitten."

She rolls her eyes.

"Still, I guess, you know, better me than the audience, right?"

The laugh is hollow, false and does not match the body language in the slightest as Aspen leans away from Namor subconsciously, an act of avoidance ... not of violence, but ... of recognition?

"Only kind of magic I know is how to make a froyo disappear inside of thirty seconds on a hot day," she adds.

Wow is that grin sickly.

Namor has posed:
Namor looks Aspen in the eyes, apparently her smiles and laughters are not enough to convince the Atlantean Emperor of anything. Rather, a gentle sigh escapes his lips, as if he were annoyed or slightly put out. Thankfully, Namor isn't annoyed, but he is slightly disappointed that she would try and cover it up. Its understandable, and a common trait among surface dwellers who have incredible abilities.

But Namor seeks the truth.

"Your body language tells me otherwise. Are you a mutant?' He asks of Aspen. "Or are you something else entirely? To affect water as you do...it is quite the gift." Namor tells her then, even if Aspen seems to be either nervous or annoyed. But Namor knows a bullshit grin when he sees one.

Aspen Matthews has posed:
"I don't know wh..."

Shit. Busted.

Aspen looks around making sure there are none to overhear. "Look," she says, "we can't talk about this here. And no, I'm not mutant. Or ... I don't really know. I'm ... I'm not from here. I'm from..."

She points downward. Into the water. Several times, each time the finger jab a bit lower, indicating deep, deep, deep water.

"At least ... I think so? It's complicated."

It always is.

"Look, I've got ... director things. To take care of. We can talk, but it can't be here in the aquarium. I can get out of here in ... maybe an hour? Then we can find somewhere less open to talk. 'Cause if you know what I am, I need answers."

Namor has posed:
Busted indeed.

Namor does not spare away his eyes from Aspen, rather, he stares her down. She is not a mutant? Interesting. Then she must be an Atlantean. Something that Namor knows -very- well about. "Very well." Namor replies simply enough on when she suggests they ought to speak someplace else.

"Try not to keep me waiting longer than necessary. Do what you feel needs to be done." and thus, Namor goes and he goes over to the pool where the Tiger Shark resides, his hand leaning over the glass wall to gently touch the creature, if he can. "You are alright, friend."

He seems to have stoppd paying attention to Aspen, but in his words before was the promise of answers indeed.

Aspen Matthews has posed:
It's almost reflexive. "Please don't reach into th..." Aspen then winces and shakes her head, shrugging with that "what are you going to do?" shrug.

"Know what? I'm going to leave you with the shark while I finish the reports on this incident. I'll meet you outside the rear gate in an hour."

...

And, an hour later ... there's no sign of her.

Then an hour five.

An hour ten.

Finally at an hour and fifteen she comes out the back, showing all the signs of trying to slip out unnoticed. Thankfully it is successful. A canvas bag slung over her shoulder (with the institute livery on it, obviously from the souvenir shop), her clothing changed from the cut-off wetsuit she was wearing earlier, she looks around and heads for Namor.

"OK, I'm out, but if I want to stay out, we've got to move quickly. There's a beachside park up the road a ways we can go to. One of those 'private in plain sight' kinds of places."

Namor has posed:
Namor's impatience is beginning to get the best of him.

One hour was said. He had hoped that these surface dwellers would hold true to their word -to the letter-, but it seems such things can't be expected, or such is Namor's point of view. But when she -finally- arrives at an hour and fifteen minutes, and yes, he absolutely keeps track, he looks towards her with a look of annoyance on his face.

"You certainly took your time."

Namor though, in respect of her potentially being an Atlantean, allows it to slide. "Then let us move quickly. Take me to this beach of yours."

Aspen Matthews has posed:
A quick glance over her shoulder--Namor's imperious annoyance having apparently slipped right past her--Aspen checks that the coast is, indeed, clear, and quickly heads off at an angle calculated to get her out of sight most quickly. Once there she leads Namor in a path that circles around the Institute to a small walkway in a park, culminating in a beach. Not a well-advertised one, it has a few people on it, but mostly of the variety that are there for the semi-privacy so, keeping to oneself being an unwritten rule, they only glance up quickly--more as a seeming check of who the arrivals are not--then go back to ignoring the existence of all other life forms.

Once there, Aspen relaxes, picking a spot off to one side (the left) with a line of (artificially placed) rocks protruding into the water. Picking a rock nearest the water, she kicks off her shoes, putting them up on the rocks before sitting in a way that lets her feet dangle into the water.

"So ..." She takes a deep breath. "... what do you know about me and where I come from because I don't know shit."

Namor has posed:
Namor is swift to move at the same speed that she does.

Whehther or not he's actually trying to avoid detection is up for debate, but otherwise, Namor is doing his best to just stick with Aspen for the moment. By the time they seem to make it anywhere of importance, Namor seems to be walking somewhat slowly.

They manage to make it to the beach, and Namor seems to take a deep breath.

"Well, at least its not surrounded by surface dwellers." Namor mumbles to himself. Though he approaches the water with Aspen, taking a seat and letting his feet rest in the water. "From what proof I may have of you....you may be an Atlantean." Namor replies. "The way you move through the water, the way that all you desire is the life that is water....I can see it in your eyes. That alone tells me you are an Atlantean...and if not, something similar."

Aspen Matthews has posed:
There's a sharp glance at the expression 'surface dweller' and a distant look in the eyes at 'the life that is water'.

"I'm to take it, then, that you're not a 'surface dweller' then?" Aspen asks, looking down at the water where it covers her legs halfway up her calf.

Then her legs are water up to her knee, the water of the seas lapping up against the water of her body like it was still flesh and blood, yet transparent and flowing.

"Killian talks about 'surface dwellers'. But he didn't use the word 'Atlantean'." She looks at Namor questioningly. "Do you know Killian? He's trying to ... do something drastic. Make the water disappear from the surface world to go ... somewhere deep he knows about."

Her legs are flesh once more and her eyes watch Namor to see if he'll match.

"He called the project Blue Sun. I helped him with it until I realized he wanted to destroy the surface world."

Namor has posed:
"No."

That one word is said with authority, enough to make the oceans rise up and reclaim what has always been theirs. But it never happens. Instead, Namor introduces himself. "I am Namor. King of Atlantis, Emperor of Deep, Lord of the Seven Seas...and many, many other titles that befits my station." He has no problem speaking his name with authority, but he is also aware that Aspen may have no clue what he's talking about.

And that's okay.

"Killian...I know no surface dweller with this name. If he wishes to make the waters disappear, then he will find my trident pressed against his throat." Namor says with some anger. "Tell me then, what did he say you were from?"

Aspen Matthews has posed:
The anger gives Aspen some pause, then all the words sink in. "Oh, no, he's not a surface dweller. He's like me. Well, he says he's like me but he knows more than me. He taught me how to ... do ... these things I can do. Was training me more."

Something in her face suggests that the training was not to her liking. A certain sad hardening of her eyes while talking.

"But he wants to take the water away from the surface so the ... well he called us the Blue? If that makes sense? Is that a word you describe this Atlantis place with? ... Well so that our kind would have it while the surface dwellers would perish."

Aspen gulps, looks around nervously at the beach.

"Thing is, I like the surface world. I'm not really thrilled at killing all seven billion of them. So I ... kinda ... quit?"

She's now frowning at Namor... not in disaproval, but in thought.

"I'm pretty sure we're not the same thing. Unless turning to water is ... frowned upon? Is that it? Did I commit a faux pas?"

Namor has posed:
When Aspen speaks, she says many things that have no meaning to Namor.

Until she mentions the blue.

The term of the 'Blue' makes Namor scoff. "They are a myth." Namor replies then. "A story told to children to allow them to sleep better at night...or to remind them to behave when they are misbehaving. Your 'Killian' is a madman."

Namor seems -very- confident in his words, but he seems approving when Aspen mentions that she quit. As she speaks of her powers though, Namor shakes his head. "It is of no consequence. The fact is that Killian most likely still intends to go through with his plans. Some Atlanteans can turn into water, others can manipulate it completely. A Faux pas? No. But it seems we must rethink what is real and what is not."

Aspen Matthews has posed:
"Killian is a madman for certain," Aspen agrees, "but he's not the only one who used Blue. I escaped his clutches with help from others. Who called us the Blue."

As they speak, she idly moves around water, turning her lower arms and lower legs into water, then having water fountain out of the sea into her left leg, leaping to her right, forking out of that into her hands and back down into the sea in a complicated, watery game of Cat's Cradle into a patch of stilled water in front of the pair. The water forms a face of a man. Then another man. Then a woman. In sequence switching between them.

"That's Killian," she says of the first man. "That's Hawke," she says of the sceond. "And that's Kyla. They all call themselves Blue."

The water shapes into what looks like a cross between a truncated aircraft, a submarine, and a building. She stares at that a moment, shifting pieces of it around until she gets it the way she wants.

"That was the station I charged for Killian. The first of three he needs for Blue Sun."

The water sculpture she made looks ... very suspiciously like the drawings from derided ancient books.

"I don't understand yet how I charged it. Killian needs me to charge them, though. Nobody else can do it, he says. And Kyla seems to agree. There's something about me that ... I don't know. Runs them."

Aspen looks at Namor. "This is all your Atlantis stuff, though, right?"

She desperately wants to hear 'yes'. Her eyes are giving that away.

Namor has posed:
Namor seems to ponder a long moment then as Aspen seems to continue onwards. He watches her hydrokinetic tricks, as he would call them, having her limbs turn into water is quite the ability. Though when the water takes the appearance of an image, that is, the appearance of a man. Then a different man, then a woman.

Seems she is well gifted in using her abilities.

Regardless, Namor seems to be somewhat amused. "You show me these faces, yet they have the strangest of names. Hawke, Killian, Kyla...almost Atlantean, if you switch around a few letters." Namor shrugs. But he narrows his eyes as the drawing look extremely similar.

"Could the myths be true? Or is this simply someone attempting to gain their victory through the past?" Namor ponders to himself. "Most likely, you have a power that he needs. Is shifting the waters all you can do?" Namor questions Aspen ever so slightly. "We could study you in Atlantis." Namor suggests.

"But...yes. These designs, these terms Blue and the like, appear in Atlantean legend."

Aspen Matthews has posed:
Aspen Matthews says, "I ... to charge that station. I..."

Aspen seems at a loss for words.

"I can feel ... energy, is the best word, but it makes me cringe as a scientist. I can feel some kind of field when I concentrate, right at the edge of my consciousness. And when I twist my thoughts just so, I unleash it. Move it."

Her face is drawn in concentration, eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, eyes squinting and suddenly the statue she made of water to show the station is frozen solid into cold, hard ice. Startled by this she jolts away, back in full flesh form and the image in ice falls and shatters against the rock, quickly thawing in the warm waters.

"Sorry. That ... I ..."

She stares at the rapidly-melting ice.

"I ... took the energy out?" she wonders to herself, aloud. "That's new."

Deep breath.

Another deep breath.

"He can't do that. I'm certain. He needed me, which is why he recruited me. Lied to me."

Eyes grow sad, and a little hard, as Aspen turns her head away, looking across the distance over the water, with a yearning as if she wanted to be there, not here.

"But I promise you, that design I saw with my own eyes. I touched with my own hands. I filled with that essence. That energy. Myself. This is not a legend in a book. It's as real as this rock I'm sitting against.""

Namor has posed:
Namor nods. "You would need to draw the energy out in order to do what Killian seems to wish you to. Otherwise, you'd be a test subject to be briefly used than discarded as depending on your specific situation." Namor sighs ever so slightly, though as the statue is frozen into cold hard ice, he seems to look slightly impressed. "Hm. Not bad."

"There are a few sorcerers of Atlantis that are capable of performing similar feats, though rarely without speech or so much as a gesture. Seems you have skills that few others can hope to match. Though...-how- you have these skills is the mystery." He narrows his eyes at Aspen.

Not a legend in a book hm?

Namor will be the judge of that. But eventually, he nods. "Very well. Then, what will you do? I imagine the only way these plans end is the death of those who seek you."

Aspen Matthews has posed:
"It's a mystery to me as well," Aspen says wryly. "I mean until a couple of months ago I didn't know I could do anything at all like this. I mean there was the one time I should have drowned but didn't. That should hav..."

Her eyes widen and her voice cuts off.

"I ... saw him then too!" she says, talking to herself. "He was there. When I dove with the closed regulator!"

She shakes her head.

"It seems hints happened before," she says slowly. "I just didn't realize it. But now all kinds of things fall into place. Like why I'm happier here..." Arm gesturing to the water. "...than here." Arm gesturing to land. "Why I can swim faster than anybody else. Why... I only learned about this a few months ago, but somehow I knew all my life, at some level."

She snorts.

"And why I was evicted in disgrace from the Olympics. Of course I won. I'm not even human!"

Namor has posed:
She drowend, hm?

It seems near-death experiences are helpful in learning of what should be. "The greatest knowledge tends to lie in those we trust the most. Seems he has been far more pivotal than you realize." He smirks at her, but only for a moment before Namor returns to a far more serious expression. He listens to her are she seems to slowly but surely connect the dots.

Not al could catch onl ike she did.

"So it would seem. Yet it is an achievement that you went to the Olympics at all. But, that being said, you are a child of the sea, and children of the sea have a place in Atlantis." He offers her all the same.

Aspen Matthews has posed:
"It was Hawke. Cannon Hawke. And others, but his is the face I remember," Aspen says slowly. "He was there. He's ... always been there? Even when Killian was using me?"

She buries her face in her hands a moment, shaking it briskly.

"This is all too weird. Why was he following me as a teen? Was he there on the boat too? Is he why the boat went missing for ten years?!"

All talking to herself. How rude!

A rudeness she becomes aware of. "Sorry, I'm just babbling no..." The offer registers. "You mean, like, the lost city?" she asks, eyes wide. "I..."

The temptation is obvious. And overwhelming, it seems.

Staring at Namor like the proverbial ... prawn before the anglerfish, she stares unblinking for a while.

"I... yes. No. I mean, it's ... can I get back to you on that?" She's starting to hyperventilate. "I mean I've got a job and friends and a bo..." Irrelevant when you're talking to a king. Shut up, Aspen! "...friends. Family...sort of? Responsibilities definitely. I can't just up and leave. I'd have to hand off responsibilities and, you know, cancel journal subscriptions, turn off utilities, Inter... You get Internet down there?"

And full babble mode has been reached. The gist is, however, "Answer Hazy. Try Again Later."

Namor has posed:
Irrelevent indeed!

"They must have a sort of precognition. Or have been monitering your existence for some time, especially if they are anything at all like you. This is a grand project, it pays to be prepared in every way imaginable." He shakes his head for a long moment, but even as she seems to connect even MORE dots, Namor doesn't seem intent on stopping her.

"Yes, of Atlantis." Namor seems to roll his eyes just a little bit.

"Is there any other lost cities that bear the name of my country?" Namor asks matter-of-factly. "You are not required to live there if you do not choose. I undertand that you are your own individual." Namor replies simply enough then. "Though to answer your question, yes, we do have internet in a different way beneath the oceans." Namor replies simply enough.

"Though we have our own entertainment, internet is nearly unnecessary."

Aspen Matthews has posed:
"I will definitely..." Aspen gulps lightly. "...think about it. I guess ... Your Majesty?" Not clear on modes of address. She'll need to get a crash course in Atlantean culture if she moves there. "I mean, it's ... wow ... you have no idea! The ... but ... I can't just now. Is there a way for me to get in touch later after I've made the preparations I'd have to make to go?"

She widens her eyes as another possibility dawns.

"This isn't one of those 'must decide now for all time' deals is it?"

She pauses.

"No, that's stupid. That's comic book logic. Obviously you're not the kind of person who'd demand an instant life-changing decision on the spot. Nobody's that kind of person in real life!"

Another thought dawns on her.

"You want to know more about these Blues. I'm going to do some of my own work on that, trying to figure out who they are and where they are and stuff. If I'm going to share that, I need some way to get in touch with you, or vice versa."

She pulls out from her outfit a beat-up business card.

"Here, for now. This is how you can get in touch with me. Email's probably best at first until I get settled in at the Institute properly. Maybe send me a message first to give me the best ways to get in touch with you? That way if I find something I can keep you in the loop."

She hands the paper across, and as she does, a large, loud crowd enters the once-secluded, quiet beach. "Dammit!" she groans. "Look, I've got to run. Papers to grade, journals to catch up on, and people are going to be hounding me for incident report after incident report over that accident. It was nice meeting you."

She backs away from Namor bowing, looking ridiculous. "Goodbye your Majesty."

And then she's fleeing up the path.