"Talking"
For a bit of a backstory, this is set about ten years in the future. Namor's gone and pissed off most of North America after he attacked several major oil stores on the East Coast. It was, however, retalliation for the US allowing oil drilling, and consequent slaughter, in Atlantian waters. Following this, the gods made a deal with Namor - Atlantis would be safe from any harm for a generation, provided that Namor himself was not on the throne. Leaving Nita in charge, he went off to Europe, eventually falling in with Jaquline Critchton (the former Spitfire) and Jim Hammond, who now works for Jaquline as a sort of security guard/assistant... thing. Jim is still a part-time superhero, and drags Namor along on occasion. I will probably end up doing a series about this, but for the moment it's all "maybe".
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The breeze was cool as it rolled gently across the hills of London, coming almost delicately up into Falsworth Manor's upper floors. On one of the open patios sat two figures. One was slumped down in a rattan chair, nursing a steaming cup. The other leaned on the side railing, but still did not give away his straight posture.
Namor looked out at the city below. It had moved up quite close to the Falsworth estate in recent years. He could see cars go by the newly paved road every so often, smell the awful exhaust and fumes.
"Why do they protect such meaningless little creatures?" The other man, still slumped in his chair, made no response, and so he continued, "Every so-called hero I have met would give his life for even the worst of them, and yet..."
The other calmly sipped his coffee, "They are heroes. It's what they do."
Namor turned to him, "You would, as well." It was not a question.
He thought a moment. "Yes."
"And yet all they've ever done for you is put you in a bottle."
Jim Hammond grinned sadly, "When you put it that way, it doesn't seem too serious."
The Atlantian snorted in a very un-composed way, feighing offence. "And," he said, chin in the air, "I suppose you harbor no ill?"
"Well-"
"Tell me, honestly, that you have nothing against them."
"...I never asked to be a slave, if that's what you mean," Jim's posture changed immidiatly, became defensive. He seemed to curl in on himself.
"Hmmm..."
"However," his voice was much softer than before, "they're not all bad." He set his cup down, stood, and leaned fully on the rail, "You can't judge all by one."
"You don't seem sure."
"Honestly, I'm not."
"Then why? Why do it at all?"
Jim hung his head, thinking. He brought his hand up to the gold collar that was part of his uniform, tugged at it, then let his hand drop. It hit the rail rather hard, jerking him back to reality. "I- They just do. It's in their nature."
"And you?"
"I guess it's in mine as well."
"Hmmm..."
"You would not let an innocent die. Many of them, they have done nothing wrong." Namor brought one knee up, resting his chin on it, thinking. Jim went on, "It's done because it's right." He looked at his friend, "You know all this, why question it?"
He sighed, "Sometimes, I am unsure of things." . "And you ask me about this?" The android raised an eyebrow, suddenly amused.
"Would you perfer I go to Jaquline?" This was followed by a smirk.
"God, no."
Namor chuckled, "Come now, she isn't that bad, is she?"
"I wouldn't go off judging all humans by her anytime soon..." Namor gave him a look, "And, yes, I am still attracted to her. You don't have to corner me."
"Ah, but watching you squirm-"
"Is simply amusing," Jaquline Critchton came up the stairs, grinning almost wickedly.
"Jackie! Uh, how long have you been there?" Jim stuttered, backing against a nearby plant.
She smiled all-too sweetly, "A little before you proclaimed that I would not be the prime example of a human being."
Jim became aware that she also had caught his other little comment. He then went cocky, trying to play it off. "Well," he said, walking up to her, "you're too short." He waved a hand off at the top of her head, which came about shoulder-level. She got out an indignant, 'Well, I never!' before, "And secondly, you're annoying." She glared at him. He smirked.
"And what, pray-tell, is third?"
"You're too gullible," Namor added. . She turned, confused, "What?"
Jim leapt, forcing her back into Namor. She was quickly grabbed by the Atlantian, while the other man began the most brutal and vile form of torture ever devised - tickling. She screamed bloody murder at Jim, and then, getting one arm free, went for Namor's gills. One hard tug and she was free.
"You are both horrid little creatures!" Dispite it all, she was still giggling.
Namor nursed his offended neck, "I suppose I should consider myself lucky?"
Jim snickered. He was then hit in the face with a clump of houseplant moss. Namor looked as innocent as possible for someone with their hand still in the pot.
"And yet I haven't kicked either of you out yet..." Two pairs of the most innocent eyes ever concieved turned on her. She laughed, "Oh, and where are you hiding the tails, hm?"
"They're at the cleaners," Jim shot back without missing a beat. "Now why did you come up here?"
"To check on you." Neither seemed too willing to accept that answer. "Oh, fine. Yes, I was spying - but just a bit. I wanted to know what you were talking about."
"Nothing of importance," Namor stood quickly.
"If it wasn't important," she held out a hand to stop him from leaving, "why were you two so serious?"
"As I said, it was not important, I-" He knew immidiatly that she didn't buy it. "I was just discussing something with the toaster."
"He was questioning God, life, humans, and those little weenie dogs at parties," Jim clarified.
"Oh," she said, immidiatly understanding, "that."
"Yes," he replied in an annoyed voice, "that. And you treat it like I do it often!"
"You do."
He turned to Jim, "Why haven't you been recycled yet?"
"He doesn't fit in the little blue boxes," Jaquline shot back. "Look, Namor, I know you think everyone out there deserves to be turned to some sort of mush... I think it too, sometimes. But please don't wallow in it." He nodded, understanding. "Oh, and if you talk poor Jim's ear off again, I'll kill you myself. I pay him to do that, and him doing it for free isn't something I'm willing to have around here."
Namor grinned, ignoring Jim's cries of outrage. "Yes, Lady Jaquline."
"Now both of you, go make yourselves useful - this place doesn't take care of itself."
"Yes, Lady Jaquline."
"Oh, and while you're at it, stop leaving those damn sardine cans around... they smell terrible!"
Fin.
