Molly, Marius, and Namor: Impromptu Swim
Mar. 2nd, 2014 12:34 pm Marius finds out very quickly why it is a bad idea to sneak up on someone with super strength and winds up in the lake. He is rescued by Namor.
Crisp and overcast, as it always seemed to be these days. Decent weather for a run, but otherwise tiresome. Marius felt they'd had quite enough of this weather. Winter was, in his opinion, malingering, and a holiday visit to his family had reminded him just how much he missed the southern hemisphere.
The steady tmp tmp tmp of his feet on the path was interrupted by a crack from the quarry. Another followed, amplified by the acoustics of the rock. There was something else there, as well. A voice?
Curiosity piqued and subsequently honed by lack of anything better to do, Marius adjusted his route to investigate.
"I like to....crush crush crush," Molly sang, her eyes blazing purple as she punched a massive boulder while singing the word 'crush' while dancing. The quarry walls surrounded her, high above her head, their light color making it look like a desert in New York except for the snow. Most people came to the quarry when they were mad to destroy things, Molly liked to practice on real rocks.
"And a-smush smush smush..." Molly continued, three punches with each word. She then crouched down and picked up broken up pieces to toss them with enough force to crack the walls.
"And throw the rocks! And throw the rocks!"
Ah, Molly. So not the standard quarry-as-anger-management sort. Not that the latter would have been of much concern; he was still flush with Yvette's mutation from the previous day's Danger Room drills. Whilst the resulting protective skin required him to hydrate more frequently, it did remove standard safety concerns. Regardless, there was something rather charming about the wanton destruction. Possibly the Brotherhood would have better press if they sang a little song whilst engaging in terrorist acts.
Amused, the X-Man dropped into a runner's crouch at the mouth of the quarry and lengthened his legs into the whippy anatomy best suited for sprinting and long-jumps. He might as well get some use from the Danger Room training. One, two, three, four strides -- leap --
"Oi, Molls!"
"Cause rocks are rocks and rocks go---YAHHH!" Molly's song was cut short by the sight of a picture right out of her nightmare. She thought she was dreaming when she saw Marius, grey and jumping at her.
So she did what she did when she thought she was being attacked and caught him, spinning around to give herself some power, then flung him as hard as she could away from her.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!"
She really wished he would stop being evil in her dreams. It was not fun. Marius, who had abruptly found himself arcing through the air, would have been inclined to agree. Unfortunately the entirety of his attention was now occupied by the very large, very deep lake with which his trajectory had decreed he was about to make closer personal friends.
As the lake loomed large in his view, Marius had just enough time to think: Oh . . . bugger.
All of the practice and the sudden shock made Molly very sleepy, and she wobbled a little, rubbing her eyes. She tried to shake it off, though, and ran in the direction that she threw him. She didn't know she could get sleepy in dreams but she didn't know she could be put in a fake apocalypse dream of the future either.
"Wake up, wake up...just a dream..." she told herself as she ran, keeping a look out for slendermen and evil Mary Angie, and anything else. She just didn't want to see dream him like...eat dream people.
The icy surface of the lake exploded upon Marius’ impact. His speed and density guaranteed not only a sound violent enough to startle any wildlife forging nearby to retreat immediately, but also a concussive ripple of force that could be felt from one side of the lake to another. Silt roiled, hibernating fish were rudely awakened, and one Attilani was royally annoyed.
The impact was not an issue. His extreme lack of buoyancy in this state, however was potentially fatal. The amount of air he'd managed to gasp was not enough. He could walk to shore, certainly; now where was it?
Before Marius could speculate too deeply about to what degree it was possible for Yvette's mutation to adapt his lungs, a flash of movement caught his eye. The mutant signature registered a moment before the unfamiliar image resolved itself. A swimmer. Not someone he recognized, but under the circumstances a welcome sight. Even whilst not in the midst of drowning he was not the sort to pass judgement on the speedos.
After wondering briefly whether he'd been knocked so hard he'd landed on the set of Baywatch: Early Spring Edition, Marius' pragmatism activated. He gestured to his nose, then urgently towards the surface. For the sake of certainty he threw in a few ineffectual upward strokes for good measure.
The swimmer just sat there for a few seconds as if weighing the pros and cons of this person in his lake. This was, Namor had thought, one of the places he could truly be alone at the mansion. He frowned at the gesturing swimmer, registering the heightened heartbeat of the drowning man before he began thrashing his arms. This was when Namor's pragmatism activated. This skinny man couldn't swim.
Namor moved frightfully fast; a dark shape in the moss and silt stirred up by Marius' fall. He was soon behind the grey man in order to hook one arm under each of Marius' armpits in a rescue carry. Namor was a little surprised at how heavy he was, but didn't dwell on it. Assuming a firm grip, the young man braced his feet against the bottom of the lake and pushed up with surprising force.
They surfaced quickly, Namor suspended half out of the water to buoy Marius against himself. "Breathe with care," he commanded.
Marius allowed himself a few moments of undignified gasping before he ventured a response. "Merci," he said, pleased hypothermia at least not issue. "Apologies, had a bit of a mishap. Here . . ." He moved his legs in a treading fashion, his already-bared feet flattening and flaring to mimic scuba fins. Unfortunately the improvement was nominal. He sighed. "Ah, well. It was worth a try. Could I trouble you for a lift to shore?”
Namor eyed the other man appraisingly. He was recovering quickly enough to breathe steadily — a good sign that there was no water in his lungs — but when Namor had moved to adjust his grip it was apparent that Marius would sink like a stone on his own.
“Hold on.” Another command. Namor strengthened his grip on the other man and rose up and out of the water. This was likely far more literal of a lift than Marius had intended, but they floated their way to shore.
Molly appeared from the forest tree line, panting from running really fast to get there from way over at the quarry. She got really confused when she saw a floating Namor holding Marius, who had had seemed to have landed in the lake. Wow. She had thrown him pretty far too. That was so cool. Except for right now when there was danger happening so she couldn't think about that.
"Wait! Put him down! He might bite you," she said, rubbing her eyes before sucking in another breath. Wake up. Stay awake. If she slept she couldn't stop him. But which did she want? Why were dreams so confusing?
Bite? Instinctively Marius' gaze darted to his palm, but no — no teeth, only scar tissue. A knot of anxiety dissipated before he even realised it had gathered. For an instant he'd been scrambled enough to wonder if she'd managed to knock him back into his mid-teens.
"Charming as you no doubt are, I assure you I am not the bitey sort," Marius said to his rescuer as he was deposited onto the shore. Dragging himself into a seated position, Marius frowned up at the breathless Molly. She looked slightly -- he wasn't certain. Queasy? Angry? He wasn't certain.
It didn’t take much thought for Namor to interpose himself between the the agitated young girl and breathless man. “Molly. Who is this?” He declared protectively. His gaze, squared on Marius, was sharp enough to cut.
When Marius looked at his hands Molly was able to see he didn't have mouths on them either. And he seemed like normal. She blinked up at Namor, frowning deeply as she let out a little breath of frustration, trying not to cry, then took a step back.
"No mouths...you're right. This...is this real? I can't tell. He's...Marius. And I thought he was evil. But he's normally not. He--It's...complicated. I'm sorry," she said, taking in another deep breath. This was probably real. Which mean what she did was bad.
"Marius p...please don't jump out anymore. It's scary. I thought I was dreaming. Topaz accidentally made me have a bad dream with you in it. And you did very bad things like you did in Rachel's world. I'm...I'm sorry I threw you in the lake," she added quietly, staring down at Marius's shoes.
It took Marius a few moments to link her explanation to the relevant incident report. He'd found the specifics of Rachel's Essex-tailored corner of the astral plane and what had transpired there borderline impenetrable, and consequently had retained only one fact: Moira and Nathan had their daughter back. Certain other things, it seemed, had been omitted.
Very bad things.
"My apologies," Marius said, unable to think of a better reply but suddenly eager to redirect his train of thought. "I didn't . . . well, it was a bit thoughtless of me. Your reaction was entirely understandable.”
This was a lot to take in without any context. Namor held up a hand in protest. “Wait,” he turned to Molly and tried to soften the edge of his tone into something vaguely comforting, “Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Has he ever hurt you?” And then to Marius, crisp accusation returning, “Startling pequeninos is not understandable. Explain yourself."
"I happened to be passing by and made the rather poor decision to attempt a greeting of jocular surprise, as is my occasional custom with friends. My impoliteness was promptly repaid." Marius did not fail to notice the implicit rebuke, but Molly's obvious distress neatly hamstrung any possible feelings of indignation.
Molly looked down, suddenly more embarrassed than frightened. "A bad guy made fake memories of him being evil. But real him isn't evil," she said, making a face.
"He didn't hurt me. He helped me. We fought bad guys together. I shouldn't have thrown him...he just...surprised me cause he was grey. And he's not normally grey. But fake memories him was grey." She bit her lip, looking up at Marius helplessly. She wasn't good at explaining things. Especially not things that were hard for normal people to explain.
"I'm...I'm good," she said. Rubbing her eyes again, she wobbled a little. "And I think I need to take a nap. You were heavy."
Namor nodded as if things were suddenly much clearer, even though they weren't. "Xavier's stuff. Got it." He made a small gesture as if to gesture that they could all move on.
"Molly, it is important you understand that throwing people is bad. Grey or not," he continued, tone parental like someone talking to a small child. He made an effort to curb the reproach with his best reassuring smile. Marius could not exist for all Namor cared right now. "Do you need help getting back to the mansion?"
"I..." Molly blinked at Namor. "That's what I meant when I said I was sorry. I know it was bad. I explained myself and apologized. What else should I have said?" He was talking to her like she was dumb and she didn't like it.
Shaking her head, she adjusted her hat, clenched her fists, then stomped off toward the mansion. "Nevermind. I can go back by myself, thank you."
She was still tired but she was mad tired, and that made her able to focus better.
For an instant Marius considered going after her, but she seemed frustrated, and tired, and from some of her comments he suspected doing so in his current state would only exacerbate his standard deficit of tact. As Molly stalked off he decided to take the advice of many, many people and, for once, keep his mouth shut.
"Again, I thank you for the rescue," Marius said to Namor. He stripped off his shirt and wrung it out, oblivious to the cold. "And I apologise for the interruption of your swim. She is not in the habit of belting others into the stratosphere — my judgement was poor.”
Namor, for his part, knit his eyebrows in confusion at Molly’s reaction, but he was not one to chase people if they needed space. He, instead, took the opportunity to properly assess Marius. “Do you often deserve to be thrown across the mansion grounds?"
The older man responded with a one-shoulder shrug, trying not to glance after Molly's retreating form. "It is not an unknown state of affairs, though most are kind enough to restrain themselves. Fortunately I can arrange to be quite durable when the need arises. Extremely fortunate in this case, considering Molly is easily one of the most physically dominating individuals in the mansion. Do not underestimate her. I am convinced her stature is merely a clever camouflage," Marius shook out his shirt and took in his rescuer for the first time. He was not immediately familiar, but the age range and the aquatic habits offered an obvious conclusion. "Ah, my manners escaped me. You are Namor Mazur, I assume?”
“No. I am Lord McKenzie, as peerage dictates, but Mazur is my family line,” Namor said offhandedly as if he was getting really tired of explaining this. He narrowed his eyes at the space Molly had previously occupied. “Please explain to me what Miss Hayes' situation is. Are you implying that she acts like a ten year old to hide something?"
"Ah, a lordship. My apologies for the omission. I would be Marius Laverne, in possession of no title in particular. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Marius scratched at his damp hair as he considered the question. "As for Molly . . . haven't thought much of it, in truth. She acts as she acts, and I don't find her the particularly dishonest sort. I do know she's borne up well against some quite unpleasant experiences, however." To his limited knowledge, at least. Now that he thought about it, this was the first time he could remember Molly having a reaction so typically adolescent as storming out of a conversation. Still, he wondered if someone should be informed of her reaction. He vaguely recalled mention of some property damage to one of the student suites a few weeks previous. Perhaps he should have paid it more attention. With a shrug he flipped the hair from his eyes. "At any rate, whatever face she might present, you would find several Genoshan nationals to attest that she is rather more capable than she might appear.”
Marius got a frown at this line of reasoning. “I do not wish to imply that she’s less than capable, but I’m questioning her maturity. This is, at least on the surface, a school."
"Perhaps, but insofar as I have observed her behaviour hurts no one." Marius sighed and climbed to his feet. "Though I must say, havin' lived here as long as I have, I'm a bit biased regarding the push for adulthood. Those lessons will come without staff instruction.”
It took a bit to process, but Namor suddenly boggled. He gave Marius a flat stare. “Wait. She was involved in an international military affair? That’s a very sudden push for adulthood."
"Among other things. She and I were privileged to be part of the of the mass-abduction which precipitated the mansion's involvement. Spent some time in the bush together as a result." The Australian slung his shirt over his shoulder. "As I said, the life lessons do come."
Namor pursed his lips, voice thin. "You'll excuse me if that wasn't on the news. Still: if her first reaction is to throw people across the mansion grounds upon being startled, I propose that she may need some counseling." He held up a hand, steamrolling any immediate response. "Yes, it is certainly admirable that she has built up defenses, but should she need to?"
He shook his head. "You are not to blame, of course. There is no easy answer here."
Marius spread his hands. "You'll hear no arguments from me. I should mention something, I suppose. I've no idea if she's already being counseled, though I'd be surprised if she were not or had not been at some point. It is 'highly encouraged' after certain events." The weariness in the last sentence indicated this was a policy with which Marius was very familiar.
"An admirable idea. Did you need help getting back to the mansion?"
"Cheers, but I am quite well. Besides, I've already been rendered airborne by a young girl. I am not certain my ego could weather returning home draped in the arms of another man."
Namor spread his arms out in either a wide shrug or a gesture of "that's cool" (or "your loss," or "fine by me"). "I regret that we did not meet under better circumstances, Mister Laverne."
"I as well. No worries, however." Marius grinned. "If nothing else, I shall count it as a boon to have met another who appreciates the aerodynamic properties of the speedo."
The other young man's features flashed with confusion. There was no moment of self-consciousness, and, if anything, his tone was imperious. "Anything else just gets in the way."
Marius nodded his approval. Confidence: it was the only acceptable way to wear a speedo.
"Mate, I feel you and I are going to get along."
Crisp and overcast, as it always seemed to be these days. Decent weather for a run, but otherwise tiresome. Marius felt they'd had quite enough of this weather. Winter was, in his opinion, malingering, and a holiday visit to his family had reminded him just how much he missed the southern hemisphere.
The steady tmp tmp tmp of his feet on the path was interrupted by a crack from the quarry. Another followed, amplified by the acoustics of the rock. There was something else there, as well. A voice?
Curiosity piqued and subsequently honed by lack of anything better to do, Marius adjusted his route to investigate.
"I like to....crush crush crush," Molly sang, her eyes blazing purple as she punched a massive boulder while singing the word 'crush' while dancing. The quarry walls surrounded her, high above her head, their light color making it look like a desert in New York except for the snow. Most people came to the quarry when they were mad to destroy things, Molly liked to practice on real rocks.
"And a-smush smush smush..." Molly continued, three punches with each word. She then crouched down and picked up broken up pieces to toss them with enough force to crack the walls.
"And throw the rocks! And throw the rocks!"
Ah, Molly. So not the standard quarry-as-anger-management sort. Not that the latter would have been of much concern; he was still flush with Yvette's mutation from the previous day's Danger Room drills. Whilst the resulting protective skin required him to hydrate more frequently, it did remove standard safety concerns. Regardless, there was something rather charming about the wanton destruction. Possibly the Brotherhood would have better press if they sang a little song whilst engaging in terrorist acts.
Amused, the X-Man dropped into a runner's crouch at the mouth of the quarry and lengthened his legs into the whippy anatomy best suited for sprinting and long-jumps. He might as well get some use from the Danger Room training. One, two, three, four strides -- leap --
"Oi, Molls!"
"Cause rocks are rocks and rocks go---YAHHH!" Molly's song was cut short by the sight of a picture right out of her nightmare. She thought she was dreaming when she saw Marius, grey and jumping at her.
So she did what she did when she thought she was being attacked and caught him, spinning around to give herself some power, then flung him as hard as she could away from her.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!"
She really wished he would stop being evil in her dreams. It was not fun. Marius, who had abruptly found himself arcing through the air, would have been inclined to agree. Unfortunately the entirety of his attention was now occupied by the very large, very deep lake with which his trajectory had decreed he was about to make closer personal friends.
As the lake loomed large in his view, Marius had just enough time to think: Oh . . . bugger.
All of the practice and the sudden shock made Molly very sleepy, and she wobbled a little, rubbing her eyes. She tried to shake it off, though, and ran in the direction that she threw him. She didn't know she could get sleepy in dreams but she didn't know she could be put in a fake apocalypse dream of the future either.
"Wake up, wake up...just a dream..." she told herself as she ran, keeping a look out for slendermen and evil Mary Angie, and anything else. She just didn't want to see dream him like...eat dream people.
The icy surface of the lake exploded upon Marius’ impact. His speed and density guaranteed not only a sound violent enough to startle any wildlife forging nearby to retreat immediately, but also a concussive ripple of force that could be felt from one side of the lake to another. Silt roiled, hibernating fish were rudely awakened, and one Attilani was royally annoyed.
The impact was not an issue. His extreme lack of buoyancy in this state, however was potentially fatal. The amount of air he'd managed to gasp was not enough. He could walk to shore, certainly; now where was it?
Before Marius could speculate too deeply about to what degree it was possible for Yvette's mutation to adapt his lungs, a flash of movement caught his eye. The mutant signature registered a moment before the unfamiliar image resolved itself. A swimmer. Not someone he recognized, but under the circumstances a welcome sight. Even whilst not in the midst of drowning he was not the sort to pass judgement on the speedos.
After wondering briefly whether he'd been knocked so hard he'd landed on the set of Baywatch: Early Spring Edition, Marius' pragmatism activated. He gestured to his nose, then urgently towards the surface. For the sake of certainty he threw in a few ineffectual upward strokes for good measure.
The swimmer just sat there for a few seconds as if weighing the pros and cons of this person in his lake. This was, Namor had thought, one of the places he could truly be alone at the mansion. He frowned at the gesturing swimmer, registering the heightened heartbeat of the drowning man before he began thrashing his arms. This was when Namor's pragmatism activated. This skinny man couldn't swim.
Namor moved frightfully fast; a dark shape in the moss and silt stirred up by Marius' fall. He was soon behind the grey man in order to hook one arm under each of Marius' armpits in a rescue carry. Namor was a little surprised at how heavy he was, but didn't dwell on it. Assuming a firm grip, the young man braced his feet against the bottom of the lake and pushed up with surprising force.
They surfaced quickly, Namor suspended half out of the water to buoy Marius against himself. "Breathe with care," he commanded.
Marius allowed himself a few moments of undignified gasping before he ventured a response. "Merci," he said, pleased hypothermia at least not issue. "Apologies, had a bit of a mishap. Here . . ." He moved his legs in a treading fashion, his already-bared feet flattening and flaring to mimic scuba fins. Unfortunately the improvement was nominal. He sighed. "Ah, well. It was worth a try. Could I trouble you for a lift to shore?”
Namor eyed the other man appraisingly. He was recovering quickly enough to breathe steadily — a good sign that there was no water in his lungs — but when Namor had moved to adjust his grip it was apparent that Marius would sink like a stone on his own.
“Hold on.” Another command. Namor strengthened his grip on the other man and rose up and out of the water. This was likely far more literal of a lift than Marius had intended, but they floated their way to shore.
Molly appeared from the forest tree line, panting from running really fast to get there from way over at the quarry. She got really confused when she saw a floating Namor holding Marius, who had had seemed to have landed in the lake. Wow. She had thrown him pretty far too. That was so cool. Except for right now when there was danger happening so she couldn't think about that.
"Wait! Put him down! He might bite you," she said, rubbing her eyes before sucking in another breath. Wake up. Stay awake. If she slept she couldn't stop him. But which did she want? Why were dreams so confusing?
Bite? Instinctively Marius' gaze darted to his palm, but no — no teeth, only scar tissue. A knot of anxiety dissipated before he even realised it had gathered. For an instant he'd been scrambled enough to wonder if she'd managed to knock him back into his mid-teens.
"Charming as you no doubt are, I assure you I am not the bitey sort," Marius said to his rescuer as he was deposited onto the shore. Dragging himself into a seated position, Marius frowned up at the breathless Molly. She looked slightly -- he wasn't certain. Queasy? Angry? He wasn't certain.
It didn’t take much thought for Namor to interpose himself between the the agitated young girl and breathless man. “Molly. Who is this?” He declared protectively. His gaze, squared on Marius, was sharp enough to cut.
When Marius looked at his hands Molly was able to see he didn't have mouths on them either. And he seemed like normal. She blinked up at Namor, frowning deeply as she let out a little breath of frustration, trying not to cry, then took a step back.
"No mouths...you're right. This...is this real? I can't tell. He's...Marius. And I thought he was evil. But he's normally not. He--It's...complicated. I'm sorry," she said, taking in another deep breath. This was probably real. Which mean what she did was bad.
"Marius p...please don't jump out anymore. It's scary. I thought I was dreaming. Topaz accidentally made me have a bad dream with you in it. And you did very bad things like you did in Rachel's world. I'm...I'm sorry I threw you in the lake," she added quietly, staring down at Marius's shoes.
It took Marius a few moments to link her explanation to the relevant incident report. He'd found the specifics of Rachel's Essex-tailored corner of the astral plane and what had transpired there borderline impenetrable, and consequently had retained only one fact: Moira and Nathan had their daughter back. Certain other things, it seemed, had been omitted.
Very bad things.
"My apologies," Marius said, unable to think of a better reply but suddenly eager to redirect his train of thought. "I didn't . . . well, it was a bit thoughtless of me. Your reaction was entirely understandable.”
This was a lot to take in without any context. Namor held up a hand in protest. “Wait,” he turned to Molly and tried to soften the edge of his tone into something vaguely comforting, “Are you alright? Did he hurt you? Has he ever hurt you?” And then to Marius, crisp accusation returning, “Startling pequeninos is not understandable. Explain yourself."
"I happened to be passing by and made the rather poor decision to attempt a greeting of jocular surprise, as is my occasional custom with friends. My impoliteness was promptly repaid." Marius did not fail to notice the implicit rebuke, but Molly's obvious distress neatly hamstrung any possible feelings of indignation.
Molly looked down, suddenly more embarrassed than frightened. "A bad guy made fake memories of him being evil. But real him isn't evil," she said, making a face.
"He didn't hurt me. He helped me. We fought bad guys together. I shouldn't have thrown him...he just...surprised me cause he was grey. And he's not normally grey. But fake memories him was grey." She bit her lip, looking up at Marius helplessly. She wasn't good at explaining things. Especially not things that were hard for normal people to explain.
"I'm...I'm good," she said. Rubbing her eyes again, she wobbled a little. "And I think I need to take a nap. You were heavy."
Namor nodded as if things were suddenly much clearer, even though they weren't. "Xavier's stuff. Got it." He made a small gesture as if to gesture that they could all move on.
"Molly, it is important you understand that throwing people is bad. Grey or not," he continued, tone parental like someone talking to a small child. He made an effort to curb the reproach with his best reassuring smile. Marius could not exist for all Namor cared right now. "Do you need help getting back to the mansion?"
"I..." Molly blinked at Namor. "That's what I meant when I said I was sorry. I know it was bad. I explained myself and apologized. What else should I have said?" He was talking to her like she was dumb and she didn't like it.
Shaking her head, she adjusted her hat, clenched her fists, then stomped off toward the mansion. "Nevermind. I can go back by myself, thank you."
She was still tired but she was mad tired, and that made her able to focus better.
For an instant Marius considered going after her, but she seemed frustrated, and tired, and from some of her comments he suspected doing so in his current state would only exacerbate his standard deficit of tact. As Molly stalked off he decided to take the advice of many, many people and, for once, keep his mouth shut.
"Again, I thank you for the rescue," Marius said to Namor. He stripped off his shirt and wrung it out, oblivious to the cold. "And I apologise for the interruption of your swim. She is not in the habit of belting others into the stratosphere — my judgement was poor.”
Namor, for his part, knit his eyebrows in confusion at Molly’s reaction, but he was not one to chase people if they needed space. He, instead, took the opportunity to properly assess Marius. “Do you often deserve to be thrown across the mansion grounds?"
The older man responded with a one-shoulder shrug, trying not to glance after Molly's retreating form. "It is not an unknown state of affairs, though most are kind enough to restrain themselves. Fortunately I can arrange to be quite durable when the need arises. Extremely fortunate in this case, considering Molly is easily one of the most physically dominating individuals in the mansion. Do not underestimate her. I am convinced her stature is merely a clever camouflage," Marius shook out his shirt and took in his rescuer for the first time. He was not immediately familiar, but the age range and the aquatic habits offered an obvious conclusion. "Ah, my manners escaped me. You are Namor Mazur, I assume?”
“No. I am Lord McKenzie, as peerage dictates, but Mazur is my family line,” Namor said offhandedly as if he was getting really tired of explaining this. He narrowed his eyes at the space Molly had previously occupied. “Please explain to me what Miss Hayes' situation is. Are you implying that she acts like a ten year old to hide something?"
"Ah, a lordship. My apologies for the omission. I would be Marius Laverne, in possession of no title in particular. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Marius scratched at his damp hair as he considered the question. "As for Molly . . . haven't thought much of it, in truth. She acts as she acts, and I don't find her the particularly dishonest sort. I do know she's borne up well against some quite unpleasant experiences, however." To his limited knowledge, at least. Now that he thought about it, this was the first time he could remember Molly having a reaction so typically adolescent as storming out of a conversation. Still, he wondered if someone should be informed of her reaction. He vaguely recalled mention of some property damage to one of the student suites a few weeks previous. Perhaps he should have paid it more attention. With a shrug he flipped the hair from his eyes. "At any rate, whatever face she might present, you would find several Genoshan nationals to attest that she is rather more capable than she might appear.”
Marius got a frown at this line of reasoning. “I do not wish to imply that she’s less than capable, but I’m questioning her maturity. This is, at least on the surface, a school."
"Perhaps, but insofar as I have observed her behaviour hurts no one." Marius sighed and climbed to his feet. "Though I must say, havin' lived here as long as I have, I'm a bit biased regarding the push for adulthood. Those lessons will come without staff instruction.”
It took a bit to process, but Namor suddenly boggled. He gave Marius a flat stare. “Wait. She was involved in an international military affair? That’s a very sudden push for adulthood."
"Among other things. She and I were privileged to be part of the of the mass-abduction which precipitated the mansion's involvement. Spent some time in the bush together as a result." The Australian slung his shirt over his shoulder. "As I said, the life lessons do come."
Namor pursed his lips, voice thin. "You'll excuse me if that wasn't on the news. Still: if her first reaction is to throw people across the mansion grounds upon being startled, I propose that she may need some counseling." He held up a hand, steamrolling any immediate response. "Yes, it is certainly admirable that she has built up defenses, but should she need to?"
He shook his head. "You are not to blame, of course. There is no easy answer here."
Marius spread his hands. "You'll hear no arguments from me. I should mention something, I suppose. I've no idea if she's already being counseled, though I'd be surprised if she were not or had not been at some point. It is 'highly encouraged' after certain events." The weariness in the last sentence indicated this was a policy with which Marius was very familiar.
"An admirable idea. Did you need help getting back to the mansion?"
"Cheers, but I am quite well. Besides, I've already been rendered airborne by a young girl. I am not certain my ego could weather returning home draped in the arms of another man."
Namor spread his arms out in either a wide shrug or a gesture of "that's cool" (or "your loss," or "fine by me"). "I regret that we did not meet under better circumstances, Mister Laverne."
"I as well. No worries, however." Marius grinned. "If nothing else, I shall count it as a boon to have met another who appreciates the aerodynamic properties of the speedo."
The other young man's features flashed with confusion. There was no moment of self-consciousness, and, if anything, his tone was imperious. "Anything else just gets in the way."
Marius nodded his approval. Confidence: it was the only acceptable way to wear a speedo.
"Mate, I feel you and I are going to get along."