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re: Bard's Poor Attempt at a Combined Marvel/DC Universe (an ongoing project)

Posted on 10/8/20 at 2:32 pm to
Posted by Bard
Definitely NOT an admin
Member since Oct 2008
51823 posts
Posted on 10/8/20 at 2:32 pm to
Alanna spared nothing. While a storm raged during the night she told them everything from the moment she had left them until her return. While Tom finished preparing their meal she told them of Arthur's half-brothers. While they ate she spoke of how Orus had kept her docile and compliant, of Vulko and Murk. While Tom had stoked the fire to keep the room warm, she told them of the war for which the Raths were trying to gather support in order to tighten their holds on Xebel and Atlantis and how they had created a false narrative blaming the surface dwellers for the malaise they themselves had subjected Alanna to in order to help better foment that support.

Tom sat in silent shock until Arthur broke it. "I don't understand, how did you go through all those years like that?"

Before Alanna could try reformulating her explanation of how the mind-magic used on her impacted her, Tom stepped in. "Arthur, do you remember the Merry Weather and Captain Donald?"

Arthur looked to his father and nodded, "yes".

"Do you remember how he was never the same after taking that pulley to the side of his head?"

Arthur glanced to the side in thought then looked back to his father. "He said he couldn't focus on anything?"

It was Tom's turn to nod. "Right, he used to tell the most vivid tales about his travels but after that mishap he had trouble just speaking his own name on some days. On one of his good days he told me that trying to grasp those memories was like trying to grab the tide. His mind might have been wet with a few scraps of memories but the vast majority was simply beyond him."

Arthur looked to Alanna. "Is that what it was like? Not being able to grab the tide?"

Alanna thought for a moment. "Close. It was like not even knowing there was a tide there to grab."

"And Orus did this to you to steal the throne of Atlantis from our family," Arthur asked, a hint of incredulity and outrage tinging his use of the word "steal".

Alanna nodded, almost missing the importance of the last part of his statement.

Arthur's hands rested on the table in front of him, he now looked down at them. After a moment he nodded to himself. After another moment he got up, went around the table and embraced her. "I'm so very sorry this happened to you," and a heartbeat later, "mom."

Alanna had been surprised at the embrace at first, but then quickly moved beyond that shock to relish the hug. She had told them everything and they had accepted her back. She felt as if a great weight had lifted from her shoulders but that lasted only until she thought about what was to come next.

Alanna finally pulled away from the embrace just far enough to look over to Tom. "I can't begin to express how happy seeing the two of you again is making me." She looked to Arthur, "and you, you're growing into such a handsome, young man!"

Out of the corner of her eye she noted Tom's face falling slightly. "But you have to go back," he prompted.

Without taking her eyes off of Arthur she agreed, sadly. "I have to go back."

Arthur took her hands in his own. "But why?"

"Because whether I like it or not, because even though I never wanted this responsibility, the House of Fen has always been the one to guide Atlantis. These are my people and they are being duped into a war of greed and ego and it's being done in my own name. Even were I not of House Fen, their attempt to falsely use me as their propaganda is not something I could allow. I return to not just stop the war, not just for revenge on behalf of my brother but to take my rightful seat as sovereign of Atlantis so this cannot happen again."

This time it was Tom's turn to ask a question. "If it's so important then why are you here? Is this one final 'goodbye'?"

She turned to Tom. "Not exactly. My love for you is deep and true but were it so simple as just sitting in the throne I would have done it then come back later once things had calmed." She looked back to Arthur, "for this to work I need you."

The table shook as Tom slammed his hand down with force. "NO! You have been gone for almost a decade due to being trapped in some insane political scheme and horrible magic, leaving us with no way of knowing whether you were alive nor dead and now you return just to drag Arthur into that hell!?! Absolutely not, I forbid it!"

"Dad..."

Tom looked at Arthur now, "no, Arthur! NO! You do not get a say in this. I am your father, I am the only person to have raised you all these years and I will not see you succumb to the machinations of those who took your mother from us for all these years!"

"Dad, I'm going."

"Absolutely not! You are only thirteen years old, barely shave! This is not a story from one of your books of knights and dragons, these people your mother is talking about would kill you the moment they find out about you. Don't you get it, son? You're half-Atlantean, half surface-world. You're a testament to peace between our peoples, you're the exact opposite from what the Raths are trying to accomplish."

Arthur did not raise his voice, did not shy from his father's posture or the desperate anger contained in his voice. "You've always taught me to do the right thing 'not because it's expected, but simply because it's right'. What's the point of all of those books teaching that, what's the point of your teaching me that if it's really just for when it's easy or convenient?"

Tom didn't have an answer for that.

"I'm not looking to be a hero, but people might die if I don't go with her. My people. Like mom just said, 'whether I like it or not' these are people I might be able to save. If I don't at least try then I haven't learned anything from those books and have not deserved them."

Tom looked defeated. The truth of Arthur's words had taken him down like an old sail that's lost the wind. He sat back down then turned a sad smile toward them. "Well we had best make use of the time we have now because you can't leave during the middle of a Nor'easter."

So they stayed there, talking of other things while the winds howled throughout the night. When the weather calmed the next day, Arthur and Alanna began their trek to Atlantis.
Posted by Green Chili Tiger
Lurking the Tin Foil Hat Board
Member since Jul 2009
47674 posts
Posted on 10/8/20 at 3:36 pm to
quote:

On one of his good days he told me that trying to grasp those memories was like trying to grab the tide. His mind might have been wet with a few scraps of memories but the vast majority was simply beyond him."


This is just a fantastic analogy. Very well written. Bravo.
Posted by Bard
Definitely NOT an admin
Member since Oct 2008
51823 posts
Posted on 10/12/20 at 12:16 pm to
Namor loathed his father. He knew it was not normal and Vulko had often counseled him to keep that to himself, but as he aged it became harder and harder to disguise it. He recognized that Orus was most often a soft-spoken charmer with a pleasing yet commanding tone in his voice while in public. Behind closed doors though he would let down his guard. Namor was far more familiar with Orus' cruel insults, his naked lust for power, his barely contained jealousy of his children's inherited positions and his flagrant infidelities while their mother laid immobile in her chambers. Even at such a young age he had already come to understand his father was not someone to admire.

"But, Father," Namor protested.

Orus put on his belt then closed his eyes and sighed, almost as if in pleasure. Namor never understood how a simple belt could elicit such a reaction from his father.

"Father..."

Orus whirled on his son then glared. "Who am I, boy?"

Namor hated when his father acted this way, which was happening far more often in the two months since his mother's surface-spawned illness worsened. He had not been allowed even into her suite of rooms, much less been allowed to see her since then. Orus Rath stalked toward his son, a haughty anger flared in his eyes. His voice suddenly lost all of its normal soothing sound, replaced now by a tone of grating anger. "Say it."

Namor gritted his teeth at having to acknowledge his father in this way. It went completely against the laws of Atlantis but he knew he had no other choice. One day though, one day when he was older and stronger... "You are the Imperious Rex."

Orus' eyes almost glowed with the naked lust for power now. He took another step toward Namor. "Say the title again."

"Imperious Rex."

Another step closer. "Again!"

"Imperius Rex!"

Another step closer. "AGAIN!" Orus had his face now within inches of Namor's. This had become a dance between them with Orus always leading and Namor reluctantly following.

He knew the expected response so he spit it out even though it galled something deep within him to do so. "IMPERIOUS REX!"

And now mollified, Orus would gloat for a moment then go about doing whatever he was doing, Namor knew. Or at least he thought he had his father figured out. Instead of lording his authority over Namor as normal, this time his right hand shot out and grabbed Namor by the throat. He followed that up by using the leverage of his greater size to ram the back of Namor's head into the wall behind him. "Watch your tone, boy! I am the ruler here! I am the sovereign!" Orus was almost rabid as he held Namor pinned against the wall at arm's length. "Don't make me replace you with your brother!"

Namor struggled against the iron grip as he thought of Orm. He was far too young to be put through this and Namor felt it was his duty to be his brother's shield against their father's increasing anger.

He could feel the pressure his father was placing on his neck but it was not enough to actually choke him. Namor knew it was a fruitless endeavor but nevertheless he reached up with both hands in an attempt to remove his father's hand from his throat. Namor did well to not show his surprise when he was successful in beginning to ever so slowly peel one of his father's fingers from his neck. He quickly turned his surprise into rage of his own to fuel his resistance. He was fighting back!

Orus' eyes widened almost imperceptibly before anger clouded back over them while his left hand shot out to pull back Namor's hands. When Namor tried again, this time Orus back-handed him across the head. Hard. Physically hurt and emotionally shocked by the action, Namor relented. His father had always had a quick temper, Vulko had remarked before on how he believed Namor learned that trait from him. Namor had seen his father use that anger on subordinates, especially the ones he believed to be Atlantean natives, but he had never used it on Namor before.

Orus tossed Namor across the room to land roughly against the floor. "Enough of your sniveling. Make yourself ready for the event and I do not want to hear another word of you wanting to disturb your mother. I have spoken! I, Imperious Rex!" Orus turned and left the room.

Namor had recovered his wits from the ordeal in time to see his father leave. He rubbed the still-stinging side of his face as he glared in the direction his father had been. "'Imperious Rex', indeed," he quietly said to the empty room.
This post was edited on 10/12/20 at 1:50 pm
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