Julian & Namor | Measurements

[x-submariner.livejournal.com]

Julian Keller and the Marques de McKenzie happen across each other at Saint Laurie Merchant Taylor. Suitable introductions are made and common ties are discussed.


Julian took a seat, popping his tablet out of his satchel and taking the espresso offered to him by the helpful, brunette attendant who assured him Samwell would see him shortly. He flipped through the pages of apps and found his stock tracker, opening it and checking what his portfolio looked like. Satisfied at the numbers he was seeing, Julian sipped his drink and set it down to dab his mouth with the provided napkin. Switching over to his email he checked to see if his adviser had lined up any further investor meetings, but there had been no new messages since the last time he'd checked...fifteen minutes prior in the cab. He sighed, sleeping the tablet and putting it away before taking up his drink and looking about the finery of Saint Laurie Merchant Taylor.

In the background, a tall, clean-cut figure emerged from a side hallway talking to a sales associate. It was easy to presume that he had the previous appointment: his shirt was loosely buttoned, shoes off, and the associate had both a clipboard and measuring tape. The two figures exchanged pleasantries formally, and Namor crisply turned, shoes in hand, in preparation to exit. However, the second his eyes locked on Julian, they didn't leave.

It took a moment of the younger scion staring before Julian realized he was being intensely observed. He looked behind himself to make sure the man was looking at him before finally turning back to him, "If you're expecting me to help you with something, I am not an employee." He relaxed a little, the man had no shoes on, how dangerous could he be? Julian sipped his espresso, despite it being slightly too hot.

The dark-haired youth's eyes narrowed, but then softened into a well-practiced gaze of superiority. Namor bent over to slip on his loafers, and the detailed observer might note the white feathers peaking out from above his ankles. "I thought I recognized you, but then I realized it was from no where important."

Unfortunately, no one had ever described Julian as observant before- "I think you are mistaken then, everywhere I go is important." With a smile, Julian used his telekinesis to float the cup and saucer to the coffee table beside him, he hoped that the force pressure wouldn't break the fragile item and was glad when it set down with only a slight 'clink'. He took in the tall, dark-haired man standing before him, "Though I do not think our paths have crossed prior to this."

Namor didn't blink at the display of power — in fact he didn't even stop lacing up his shoes. He straightened, finished, and habitually smoothed out any potential wrinkles in a few quick, efficient movements. "Your picture on was the list of Xavier's alumni. You will have to forgive my brief lapse in recognition." He checked his phone idly.

A breath Julian hadn't known he'd been holding passed his lips as he realized this wasn't someone who recognized him from the recent drama that had entangled his family. The ex-scion put his tablet away and held up his hands apologetically, "Ah, that's it then." He stood and held his hand out, "I hope you'll forgive my attitude, there's been a too many people lately who have recognized me for reasons I'd rather not have them recognize me for."

Namor's gaze flicked back to Julian, searching. He pursed his lips. "It is generally considered impolite to speak of embarrassing family problems," and he stated this in the same way someone might talk about an uncle using the wrong fork, "But the Mansion has its share of gossips who read the New York Times. I am only surprised you are back in New York."

One of Julian's eyebrows rose slightly as his hand dropped back to his side- first impressions could be tricky, "Yes, well- California and I had a disagreement and I felt a bit of distance might help. I didn't get your name — you are an alumni of Xavier's, correct?"

"No," Namor closed the distance remaining between the two of them and offered a steady, unhesitant hand in as if he hadn't ignored Julian's earlier gesture, "But they have been gracious enough to house me as I study abroad. Namor."

Julian took his hand and gave it a firm handshake, trying to avoid outwardly wincing as Namor gripped him back. "Julian Keller," he said, letting go and resisting the temptation to rub his hand. "The mansion does have a habit of taking in a collection of the rich and powerful," he said with the up-most confident as anyone who lacked either wouldn't be getting fitted for a suit here. "If it isn't intrusive, where are you from? I can't place your accent."

"I'm of the House of Agon." Namor paused a moment, scanning Julian for any hints of recognition before adding, "Of Attilan."

"Ah," he recalled reading about it in mission briefings during his brief tenure as a trainee, but had never been there. The way Namor had said 'The House of Agon jogged his memory more- not the house itself, but the inclination- it was similar to the European nobility he'd met at the Hellfire Club. "You're a long way from home, but then again so am I. How are you liking the city?"

"Not enough ocean," Namor admitted mournfully, "Or at least water that isn't filthy. The city itself is delightful." He smiled perfunctorily in an effort to match Julian's demeanor. "I take it the unpleasant business with your family was enough to lead you here, unless you really just like Saint Laurie suits."

"A rough landing by the boathouse with Miss Megan Gwynn left my traveling suit in rough condition, the tailor said it was, how did he put it," Julian tried to raise the pitch of his voice, but the impression fell short in his own opinion, "'ruined beyond all reason'." He shrugged and continued, "More to the point, you are correct. I'm back in the city to make a fresh start free of the name, Keller." He sighed, "You are right by the way, the waters around here are terrible. Perhaps some weekend we can escape down to the Caribbean for some surfing?"

This was enough to break Namor's stony expression and he piqued an eyebrow in interest. "I trust you did not fly all the way from California in a custom tailored suit. If so, you deserve every last bit of what that tailor gaze to you." And then a real smile. "I would be delighted, but it will need to be after school resumes and my travel privileges are reinstated."

Julian rose an eyebrow ever-so-slightly, "Travel privileges, that sounds familiar. Not to worry, the islands aren't going anywhere...hopefully. Where are you attending?"

"Columbia. Environmental Policy and Pre-Law, although my father wishes for me to lay down a basis in Business as well." Namor shrugged non-noncommittally. "And I find the best way to avoid island-disappearances is to avoid thinking about it. Trouble will come when it comes."

"True enough. I started as straight business- my father's idea as well. A mentor convinced me to add physics to my curriculum, but I don't really have the head for it," Julian shifted slightly, he'd tried to get into Columbia, but they wouldn't accept him based on a combination of grades, his mutation, and his family's current drama. "It does help with my powers training though, which was the point. Environmental Policy and Pre-Law is an interesting combination, intending to defend the planet?"

Namor scoffed. "More like ensuring the planet improves. My father's work is salvage and conversation, but I have higher ambitions. Still. You have to build from the ground up."

"True," Julian nodded, wondering just what this man had planned. "While I, on the other hand, simply am looking to make an insane amount of money for myself and whoever else chooses to join me." He held up a hand in defense, "With the up-most in environmental responsibility of course. I do enjoy this planet," an attractive attendant strolled through the small waiting area and toward the back room, "particularly some of its more attractive features." Julian grinned.

Namor was unimpressed. "I was taught that money is immaterial when compared to what you provide in accordance to your station. However," and he grinned the grin of those born with both lots of money and privilege, "There is nothing wrong with having a little fun on the way. So you are looking for investors. Risky."

"True, on both counts. I tend to be a good judge of character though," he shrugged, "and I was taught that if you don't risk anything you will never gain anything." Julian smiled, he liked this man, his outlook on the world was not as jaded as those of the other nobles he'd met, and he actually wanted to see how Namor could- or rather would- change the world. "As the excellent judge of character that I am, I can tell we'll be good friends," Julian's smile widened as he unconsciously started to handle his pocket watch. "And, not that you don't have people looking out for you, but if there's ever anything you need...say, a weekend out of the city and off the radar for example, let me know. I am always up for an adventure in some random tropical island."

"Good friends. Yes." Julian's handing of his pocketwatch made Namor reach reflexively for his own phone to check the time. "Mr. Keller, it was a pleasure meeting someone from Xavier's unburdened by the boarding school concept. I will most certainly take you up on your offer. Now, however, I should not demand any more of your time. Good luck with your fitting."

Julian was about to say that Namor didn't need to rush off, but the pretty attendant came back through and called his name. Instead, he rose and shook his new friends hand, "Thank you, Namor, good luck with your classes."