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ax_main2018-11-24 01:55 pm
ax_submariner) wrote in ax_main2018-11-24 01:55 pm
Entry tags:
Namor's Birthday Party and Speech - Group Log
As promised, Namor delivers his speech to those who have gathered to celebrate his birthday. Or just eat the food he's provided.
Namor surveyed his birthday gathering. Not quite what he'd imagined, but the turnout was decent. The fare seemed to appeal to most everyone present, which was the intent; a variety of drinks, food, and persons present. It brought a very faint smile to his lips, even as he stood before his peers, in front of the television, the very center of attention at the celebration. His posture commanded attention; chin up, arms folded behind his back, and ready to deliver his speech. He leaned forward, producing a misshapen lump of brass from his pocket. He set it upon the nearby table, and tapped the top, whereupon it unfolded and stood on four stubby, spider-like legs, projecting a soft blue hologram of an Atlantean woman's face. She remained still and silent, as if a projected image. He stood back up, assuming his posture as if he had never moved.
“Thank you for gathering with me today. It is my sincerest hope that today, and all days to come, find you healthy and mirthful. I have, over the months, come to know you as best I can, as a stranger in a strange land.”
He took a moment to pause and shift his focus. He'd been aloof, before, looking just above everyone's heads. Now, here and there, he made eye contact. Not harsh, but with faint fondness.
“In these months, I have approached our interactions as a scientist might. I found you curious, and I understand now that with such an approach, there is an amount of conceit. This was an oversight, and for it, I sincerely apologize. Whether I will err again, I do not know. I do, however, know this much from my observations and interactions.” He paused, artfully, for a moment.
“I care, deeply, for each of you. Perhaps I do not know all of you on the most personal level, but in a sense of community. You have entertained my fancies and whims, tolerated my gaffes and errors. Through the trials your own people have visited upon you, endured and strengthened. I feel honored to have observed, and even at times aided, in that process,” he said, plainly, and with a slight shrug of admittance.
“Above all else, know that I consider my time here to be a blessing. Your company more so. And may our years together find us as friends, not simply classmates.” He gave a very slight, very polite bow. “Thank you for your attention, and please, enjoy yourselves.” His speech concluded, Namor tapped the brass projector, causing its image to wink out as it folded up. He pocketed it, and then went to try more of what he had been told was 'curry.' He found it quite pleasant. Spices were not nearly as potent beneath the waves. This was something he would have to introduce to his parents.
Namor surveyed his birthday gathering. Not quite what he'd imagined, but the turnout was decent. The fare seemed to appeal to most everyone present, which was the intent; a variety of drinks, food, and persons present. It brought a very faint smile to his lips, even as he stood before his peers, in front of the television, the very center of attention at the celebration. His posture commanded attention; chin up, arms folded behind his back, and ready to deliver his speech. He leaned forward, producing a misshapen lump of brass from his pocket. He set it upon the nearby table, and tapped the top, whereupon it unfolded and stood on four stubby, spider-like legs, projecting a soft blue hologram of an Atlantean woman's face. She remained still and silent, as if a projected image. He stood back up, assuming his posture as if he had never moved.
“Thank you for gathering with me today. It is my sincerest hope that today, and all days to come, find you healthy and mirthful. I have, over the months, come to know you as best I can, as a stranger in a strange land.”
He took a moment to pause and shift his focus. He'd been aloof, before, looking just above everyone's heads. Now, here and there, he made eye contact. Not harsh, but with faint fondness.
“In these months, I have approached our interactions as a scientist might. I found you curious, and I understand now that with such an approach, there is an amount of conceit. This was an oversight, and for it, I sincerely apologize. Whether I will err again, I do not know. I do, however, know this much from my observations and interactions.” He paused, artfully, for a moment.
“I care, deeply, for each of you. Perhaps I do not know all of you on the most personal level, but in a sense of community. You have entertained my fancies and whims, tolerated my gaffes and errors. Through the trials your own people have visited upon you, endured and strengthened. I feel honored to have observed, and even at times aided, in that process,” he said, plainly, and with a slight shrug of admittance.
“Above all else, know that I consider my time here to be a blessing. Your company more so. And may our years together find us as friends, not simply classmates.” He gave a very slight, very polite bow. “Thank you for your attention, and please, enjoy yourselves.” His speech concluded, Namor tapped the brass projector, causing its image to wink out as it folded up. He pocketed it, and then went to try more of what he had been told was 'curry.' He found it quite pleasant. Spices were not nearly as potent beneath the waves. This was something he would have to introduce to his parents.
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“Not much,” Loki said quietly. “And I haven’t pursued.” They probably should. Avoidance didn’t stop a civilization from existing. Loki knew more about TJ’s alternate universe Namors than his classmate.
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