Phase 1 log; Namor and Scott (Backdated to 14 Nov)

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

Scott and Namor discuss the restictions placed on Namor by his parents.

It wasn't their first meeting. In fact, since the incident in July and the whirlwind of the Thakkar royals visiting post-Dweller, things had been rather quiet. This was, perhaps, reflected in the casual and rehearsed attitude during their weekly touch base.

But, as always, it began with a contest of stares.

Scott leaned back in his chair a faint smile on his face as he looked at the younger man seated on the couch across from him. This was actually one of the more relaxing moments in his week, Namor had proven to be a uneventful student and hadn't created too many problems ae initial issue with the muggers. But he didn't want to be the first one to break the silence so he leaned back into his chair and shifted into a more comfortable position.

Namor had his usual sort of intensity set on low thrum: haughty expectation met with a hint of disapproval served with a sprig of command for garnish. He had his elbows propped on either armrest, hands clasped together, and his knuckles made a soft popping noise as they cracked.

There was a cheerful tone as the clock hit the hour somewhere nearby. Showtime.

"I wanted to punch eight people this week. I can make a compelling argument that seven of them deserved it and no court would convict me."

"Only 8? That's down on last week," Scott reminded the young prince with a smile, "So you've either been avoiding annoying people or have been working on the patience. Though thanks for not putting yourself in the position to have to make those arguments, I'd hate to have to explain to your father why you were in jail."

"You wouldn't. I have diplomatic immunity." Namor made a tiny motion as if to wave the point away. "Regardless, I have found that avoiding people is proving to be highly successful tactic. Unless you count sheer force of regality as a form of patience."

"I'm...not sure that I'd count avoiding people as really facing the problem," Scott counter with an amused grin, "But if it works for you," the X-man held up his hand and rocked it back and forth in a maybe motion. "Though I guess kings and queens need to be very patient, so working on the regality could work."

Namor looked a little confounded. "Kings and Queens may certainly need to be, but Dukes need only command. I am finding the majority of my classmates will show their bellies without any aggression on my part."

"Every commander needs to be patient," Scott countered, "It's part of the job, even a duke. It's the difference between a good leader and a great leader. No-one wants to be lead by someone who flies off the handle at the first provocation." The X-man gave Namor a wry smile, "I don't think any of your classmates have ever met anyone like you before."

"Patience," and Namor's accent rolled over the word in consideration, "Is what we are striving toward. I do not particularly care for what my classmates may expect. I will not compromise myself to make friends."

He quirked an eyebrow in challenge. "I will be the master of myself, but I do not see any benefit in bending to conform to the wants of others."

"It's never a good thing to change yourself too much to conform to the demands of your classmates," Scott agreed, "Or anyone else, but you can't tell me you've never been convinced to do something you wouldn't normally do by your friends." He shrugged, "Everyone needs to bend now and then, you do things that you wouldn't do for anyone else, and they do the same, it's the essence of friendship."

Namor gave Scott the flattest of looks. "A true friendship should not require flexible ideals."

"A true friendship is one where you're willing to do it anyway," Scott countered returning Namor's look.

"We are dangerously close to greeting card territory, Mr. Summers. I was not aware our sessions were a prelude to a children's movie."

Scott snorted and inclined his head at Namor, "A point. A veritable point," he allowed, "People have always said I should be a hallmark card writer," the older man leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, "You're doing better with the punching people through walls, I don't think anyone could deny that," he told Namor, "I guess I just don't wanna see someone else miss out on everything else you could have."

Namor returned his smile, but wasn't about to cave into sentimentality. "I have found putting stock in could-have-beens isn't how I want my life to go. Companionship is a valuable asset, but none of my goals involve sitting on my hands and waiting for the magic of friendship to open up a technicolor, sparkle-encrusted landscape of hugs and belonging."

"Well, no one can ever say you don't know what you want out of your life," Scott noted with a smile, "Besides, if you just sit on your hands then nothing interesting will ever happen. Although, sparkle-encrusted landscape? Really?"

He smiled sardonically. "It is said that exaggeration is truth that has lost its temper, I feel it is instead a matter of patience. I am glad that we agree that this conversation should circle back onto goals. Untie my hands, Mr. Summers."

Scott smiled at Namor and shook his head, "I'm not the one you need to convince of that. Your parents are, if you can convince them that I'd be happy to support your case, you've been able to prevent yourself from punching people through walls even if they deserve it. But it's not for me to unshackle you, that's between you and your parents, I'm just the middleman here."

"Middle management is a lower class problem. You are a facilitator, Mr. Summers," Namor replied sternly. He leaned slightly forward with an intense look. "Facilitate."

"I may be a leader, a facilitator, Namor," Scott noted leaning back with a smile, "but even I know better than to get in between a parent and their children. Some things not even I am crazy enough to do."

Dignity be damned, the royal tossed his hands up in the air. "You have met my father. He moves about as fast as a glacier."

"Not just your dad," Scott agreed with a sigh, "All parents end up that way when it comes to their children. My father still thinks he needs to protect me today even after everything I've been through."

Namor sighed in exasperation. "Well then, Mr. Summers, we will each have to suffer these meetings until Thakkar feels I no longer am in danger of being kidnapped or shot to death."

The clock struck the hour as if on queue.