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xp_logsAmanda finally takes Namor back to the smugglers' cave in Jersey to investigate the connection between him and the magic there. Then she treats him to lunch.
It was a typical faux Irish pub - wooden furniture, "cozy" (read, "dim") lighting, Budweiser on tap and sausages and mash on the menu. But it was quiet and close to the cave and no-one looked at them twice as they walked in, even with Namor's usual disapproving expression. Amanda chose a table towards the back, far enough away that no-one would be able to eavesdrop on their conversation without being noticed, and ordered a beer as she fished her notebook out of her bag.
"Well, that was fun," she remarked, opening the notebook at a half-filled page, headed "Magical Fucking Sea Cave" in her school girl-like handwriting.
Namor slumped sourly into his chair and gave the menu a half-hearted once over. "Miss Sefton, there are many words for that cave, but none of them include 'fun.' This hole just keeps getting deeper."
"Namor, one of these days we're going to have a sit-down and I'll teach you all about sarcasm," she replied with a grin. "But you're right. I would have liked some actual answers, instead of more bloody questions."
He studied the menu still. "I merely choose to ignore sarcasm in an effort to encourage higher forms of humor. It is a slow effort, but I am willing to see it through." He lifted his eyes from the menu, suddenly concerned, "We left the staff in the back of the car. Was that wise?"
"It should be fine there," Amanda replied, picking up her own menu so she could poke her tongue out at Namor from behind it - she was the adult here, after all. "The Broomstick might not look like much, but I got a mate to put an anti-theft ward on it." She scanned the menu and quickly made her decision - all of these places were the same, after all. Turning her attention back to her notes, she continued. "So, we worked out the staff doesn't actually do anything else - must have been a one-way trip from the cave in Italy to the one here." That was a relief, at least.
Namor shook his head, unconvinced. "The symbols are still crawling on it for me." Unfortunately for the two of them, Namor had illustrated why he wasn't an art major earlier in an attempt to add clarity around this fact. "The two demons also used the staff in their ritual. It was not merely found." He shrugged subtly, expression just done. "However, I am prepared to take your word as an expert."
"I really wish we could find out why this stuff reacts to you and no-one else," Amanda grumbled. "Still, those symbols ought to help, if I can find records of them. And I'll get Doug to do his language thing. But my guess it's going to be the same as Sue's necklace - probably some variation on "door" or "travel", since that's what it does. Whoever made these things wasn't exactly imaginative with the naming."
Another shrug — if you boiled the shrug down, dried it out, and were only left with the basic contours of what a shrug should be. "Let us appreciate the practical nature of their craft as we continue to rule out the fact these objects react to me is nothing to be worried about. The staff was not from the cave, and that indicates that there may be more... artifacts... out there."
"Which is why I need to identify the magic in the first place." Amanda sounded grumpy for a moment. And frustrated. As much as she liked research, annoying mysteries that put her students at risk were another matter. "We know it's connected with the Dweller in the Deep in some way — the staff was used in the summoning ritual in Italy, you said. And the Dweller's old. Even for demons." She scribbled a few notes down in her notebook, frowning. "I'll see if I can't get some friends who are experts in Elder God mythos to have a look at things for me."
There was a nod and a flat look for in response. "I appreciate that you have contacts who can deal with this specific problem. Is there any price that would expedite their research?"
Amanda looked surprised for a moment - she was used to doing most of their work for the mansion pro bono - and then shook her head. "It's covered, but thanks for the offer. Too bad that cave in Italy collapsed, or I'd be able to get someone to take a look as well. Actually, it still might be worth it, just to see if anything survived." More notes. "For now, I'll keep the staff at the office - we have a safe room for things like this, and I'd rather anything strange happen to us instead of at the school."
It wasn't apparent, especially in the muted light of the pub, but Namor's expression darkened at the mention of Italy in reflex. Not a cringe of traumas past or wounds remembered, but instead a mental reprimand. He stiffened, leaning closer. "It is possible something from Italy remains. We never saw the totality of the cave in, and the Italian police were able to get in from the outside. My father has friends in the Italian government if that would help." He paused, considering. "Yes. Locking it away would be good even if there was no staff in Miss Colbert's drawings."
Amanda was about to protest that X-Force had plenty of resources, but she hesitated. There was something in his manner - and the fact he had offered help several times now - that made her rethink it. "That'd be good, yeah," she replied instead. "I have a couple of people in Europe who know what to look for - they can work with your father's people to get access."
This did seem to comfort the noble by a degree. "Good. I will have my father's assistant forward you their contacts." Namor's eyes returned to the menu, as if food were now worth considering. "I will have to let Mr. Summers and my father know that the incident at the cave last summer is my responsibility."
"Less your responsibility and more you were a catalyst," Amanda pointed out. "But, I have a feeling that no matter what I say, you'll still consider it your duty to take responsibility for what happened, any way. But if it helps, I can talk to Captain Tight-- er, Mr. Summers and your dad as well, let them know what happened from a sort of expert view?"
"Someone has to take responsibility," he frowned through the words, "That does not mean fault or guilt. It means taking precaution against future problems."
"As long as those precautions don't involve blaming or punishing you," the witch noted. "But fine, I get it. I had a... friend like you, back when I was in school. He was similar with the duty thing."
"That sounds like someone worth knowing. My Uncle likes to say that duty is a useful spurn toward action, and that blame is merely an excuse to dwell in the past." Namor quirked an eyebrow, which was about as close to a shrug as he'd allow. "We learn. We move on. We improve."
Amanda grinned. "Your uncle sounds like a good sort as well." She looked around and waved down a waitress. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved. I hope you found something you can eat on there."
"I will," he added exasperatedly, "Have to manage with what I have." Whether this was in regard to the menu or, well, everything from tonight was unclear. He blinked, seemingly clearing away any lingering unpleasantness. "Right then. Food."
It was a typical faux Irish pub - wooden furniture, "cozy" (read, "dim") lighting, Budweiser on tap and sausages and mash on the menu. But it was quiet and close to the cave and no-one looked at them twice as they walked in, even with Namor's usual disapproving expression. Amanda chose a table towards the back, far enough away that no-one would be able to eavesdrop on their conversation without being noticed, and ordered a beer as she fished her notebook out of her bag.
"Well, that was fun," she remarked, opening the notebook at a half-filled page, headed "Magical Fucking Sea Cave" in her school girl-like handwriting.
Namor slumped sourly into his chair and gave the menu a half-hearted once over. "Miss Sefton, there are many words for that cave, but none of them include 'fun.' This hole just keeps getting deeper."
"Namor, one of these days we're going to have a sit-down and I'll teach you all about sarcasm," she replied with a grin. "But you're right. I would have liked some actual answers, instead of more bloody questions."
He studied the menu still. "I merely choose to ignore sarcasm in an effort to encourage higher forms of humor. It is a slow effort, but I am willing to see it through." He lifted his eyes from the menu, suddenly concerned, "We left the staff in the back of the car. Was that wise?"
"It should be fine there," Amanda replied, picking up her own menu so she could poke her tongue out at Namor from behind it - she was the adult here, after all. "The Broomstick might not look like much, but I got a mate to put an anti-theft ward on it." She scanned the menu and quickly made her decision - all of these places were the same, after all. Turning her attention back to her notes, she continued. "So, we worked out the staff doesn't actually do anything else - must have been a one-way trip from the cave in Italy to the one here." That was a relief, at least.
Namor shook his head, unconvinced. "The symbols are still crawling on it for me." Unfortunately for the two of them, Namor had illustrated why he wasn't an art major earlier in an attempt to add clarity around this fact. "The two demons also used the staff in their ritual. It was not merely found." He shrugged subtly, expression just done. "However, I am prepared to take your word as an expert."
"I really wish we could find out why this stuff reacts to you and no-one else," Amanda grumbled. "Still, those symbols ought to help, if I can find records of them. And I'll get Doug to do his language thing. But my guess it's going to be the same as Sue's necklace - probably some variation on "door" or "travel", since that's what it does. Whoever made these things wasn't exactly imaginative with the naming."
Another shrug — if you boiled the shrug down, dried it out, and were only left with the basic contours of what a shrug should be. "Let us appreciate the practical nature of their craft as we continue to rule out the fact these objects react to me is nothing to be worried about. The staff was not from the cave, and that indicates that there may be more... artifacts... out there."
"Which is why I need to identify the magic in the first place." Amanda sounded grumpy for a moment. And frustrated. As much as she liked research, annoying mysteries that put her students at risk were another matter. "We know it's connected with the Dweller in the Deep in some way — the staff was used in the summoning ritual in Italy, you said. And the Dweller's old. Even for demons." She scribbled a few notes down in her notebook, frowning. "I'll see if I can't get some friends who are experts in Elder God mythos to have a look at things for me."
There was a nod and a flat look for in response. "I appreciate that you have contacts who can deal with this specific problem. Is there any price that would expedite their research?"
Amanda looked surprised for a moment - she was used to doing most of their work for the mansion pro bono - and then shook her head. "It's covered, but thanks for the offer. Too bad that cave in Italy collapsed, or I'd be able to get someone to take a look as well. Actually, it still might be worth it, just to see if anything survived." More notes. "For now, I'll keep the staff at the office - we have a safe room for things like this, and I'd rather anything strange happen to us instead of at the school."
It wasn't apparent, especially in the muted light of the pub, but Namor's expression darkened at the mention of Italy in reflex. Not a cringe of traumas past or wounds remembered, but instead a mental reprimand. He stiffened, leaning closer. "It is possible something from Italy remains. We never saw the totality of the cave in, and the Italian police were able to get in from the outside. My father has friends in the Italian government if that would help." He paused, considering. "Yes. Locking it away would be good even if there was no staff in Miss Colbert's drawings."
Amanda was about to protest that X-Force had plenty of resources, but she hesitated. There was something in his manner - and the fact he had offered help several times now - that made her rethink it. "That'd be good, yeah," she replied instead. "I have a couple of people in Europe who know what to look for - they can work with your father's people to get access."
This did seem to comfort the noble by a degree. "Good. I will have my father's assistant forward you their contacts." Namor's eyes returned to the menu, as if food were now worth considering. "I will have to let Mr. Summers and my father know that the incident at the cave last summer is my responsibility."
"Less your responsibility and more you were a catalyst," Amanda pointed out. "But, I have a feeling that no matter what I say, you'll still consider it your duty to take responsibility for what happened, any way. But if it helps, I can talk to Captain Tight-- er, Mr. Summers and your dad as well, let them know what happened from a sort of expert view?"
"Someone has to take responsibility," he frowned through the words, "That does not mean fault or guilt. It means taking precaution against future problems."
"As long as those precautions don't involve blaming or punishing you," the witch noted. "But fine, I get it. I had a... friend like you, back when I was in school. He was similar with the duty thing."
"That sounds like someone worth knowing. My Uncle likes to say that duty is a useful spurn toward action, and that blame is merely an excuse to dwell in the past." Namor quirked an eyebrow, which was about as close to a shrug as he'd allow. "We learn. We move on. We improve."
Amanda grinned. "Your uncle sounds like a good sort as well." She looked around and waved down a waitress. "I don't know about you, but I'm starved. I hope you found something you can eat on there."
"I will," he added exasperatedly, "Have to manage with what I have." Whether this was in regard to the menu or, well, everything from tonight was unclear. He blinked, seemingly clearing away any lingering unpleasantness. "Right then. Food."
