Laved by the Gulf and Ocean Grand | Deep Down in Florida

[xp_hawkeye]

In Florida, Namor, Alani, and Meggan head into the ocean to find the outpost. They meet with the nymph.



Taking a moment to glance back towards the team that would be remaining while they went under, Alani puffed out the air she hadn't realized she was holding. Right then, time to turn the business brain on. "Namor, I assume you'll be taking point? I mean, personally, I'd prefer it if I didn't goof anything as we go forward." If they encountered Atlantean technology, he'd know what to do with it. And she'd rather have a brick in front of them and ready, just in case. Looking curiously to Meggan, her voice dropped. "Does Florida have alligators or crocodiles?"

"We would remind you that I was born to rule and you are here by My grace alone." The winged guy was already ahead of them, so his words drifted on the back current as they made speed. The information they had received on the rendezvous was solid, and Namor moved far more gracefully in the water than he did on land. If the women were paying attention, they might notice that he actually was slowing himself to let them keep pace as his ankle wings beat slowly with every twist in direction. "Naturally We will take the lead."

“Oh, Florida's got both,” Meggan promptly informed Alani as they went. At least they didn’t have to be wary of both right now, though. “Alligators go for the freshwater, though, so we just have to avoid the crocodiles swimming about.” She hadn’t spotted that distinctive u-shaped snout just yet, though, to her relief. “They’re a bit more aggressive. Oh, and bigger!” She didn’t want to scare her friend, just inform her. Glancing ahead, Meggan genuinely appreciated the fact that Namor wasn’t just zooming off and leaving them to drift in his wake.

"Of course they are," Alani stretched the words as she gave Meggan a thumbs up, keeping the internal screaming to a minimum as they followed. Pushing herself to try and keep a better pace, she shifted into working mode, going through the information they'd been given and trying to run it against what she knew. “Eh, hey Namor, silly question but indulge me, Atlantean architecture is built to withstand any deterioration caused by the ocean? Yes?”

“We are a people born of and to the sea.” As if that clarified anything. He paused for a second before adding, ”Were. Time defeats even the greatest empire.” He let that mournful note sit for a beat before continuing, "Atlantis was… unique. Its bosom in the sea, towers like fingers brushing the heavens. The outposts were…” There was a cock of his head, considering, “Legs. Anchors. Nothing could outshine the city, so they were meant to sit beneath the waves.”

Meggan sent Alani an apologetic look, mouthing a quick 'sorry'. She understood that her words would never be construed as comforting, when it came to the size of them. Not even a tiny bit. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Namor’s tone, when it came to the description of the underwater city at first. “It sounds like it must have been as impressive as it would have been beautiful,” she offered softly.

A pause before a snort of laughter to lighten the mood, as Alani focused on Meggan, offering a slight smile before she allowed the dry clinical thoughts that followed concerning what had been offered of the designs. "Perfect, thank you for expanding on that little factoid, I-" A lapse into silence as she realized she was talking to fill up space. "We're going to find it, Namor." This was said confidently.

"Of course We are," came echoed back, only that echo was marinated in Namor's ego and left to age to where the confidence could flake off the side like sea salt. "I have dominion over the seven seas. There is nothing that lies beyond my grasp."

Except Atlantis.

Oblivious to the logic of his own statement, or any logic, Namor continued. "Outputs were never too far from the shoreline. Keep your eyes open."

Meggan nodded succinctly, even if Namor wasn’t looking her way. “Not thinking of closing them now,” she wryly added. You never knew what you might run into out here without warning. Between all of them being alert, hopefully they wouldn’t be taken too much by surprise.

Ches was right, the winged one was dishy. If you liked them tall and fairly chiseled, and were willing to risk the wrath of the Bay. And his younglings! How precious. "Sounds like a wise plan, youngling," Ibi finally said as she took form, swamp and tree lending depth to her watery form. "Your majesty, younglings. I've heard the most interesting things about you from Ches. What brings you to my swamps?"

There wasn't even a beat. Just imperious straight to business. "We require promised knowledge, Keeper."

She clucked her tongue, a loud snap and bit of hiss issuing from her mouth at the motion. "So impatient. And rude. I expect impatience from the younglings, but you..." What seemed to be her face grew tighter, watery orbs surrounded by moss and lichen focusing on the child of Atlantis. She snapped her jaw at the man in a warning, sharp, alligator-style teeth flashing before her mouth clamped shut. "Very well. I found something Ches thought would be of interest, and she's bargained for your safe passage so long as you're not unforgivably rude. By my standards, naturally."

Leading the way deeper into the swamps, she ignored any rustling along the trees or bushes, and the wildlife that normally found themselves in the water and a danger to humans were scarce. "This is where we enter, children. Keep up, I'll not have mine unable to eat just because you're a bit slow." With that, she dissolved gracefully into the water, leaving behind a small pile of partially dry bits of swamp flora and funga. A glowing green ball spun slowly in a circle, waiting on the three to duck under water and start following.

Alani shot Namor a warning look, or what might have passed for one if she wasn't dealing with the King of Atlantis, opening her mouth before thinking better and sighing softly. "Okay, best behavior, gang, let's not offend anyone beyond repair," not that she thought Meggan would be anything but on her best, but better to make a blanket statement. "Namor, still on point, and we'll do our best to keep up." Then she ducked under, taking a moment to acclimate before she followed.

One might imagine, in this situation, the image of Alani's warning shot being a carefully honed and hewed arrow — flecked with etched care and planning and aimed with the best of intentions — completely sailing over the header of its mark and into the sea behind, lost to all. Or, if you're being more generous, that same arrow plinking comically off Namor's impenetrable armor of ego. Plink. Plonk.

"Keeper, We are no mere toy of the Chesepiooc. She had warned of this — your idle hunger feted by tourists and the geriatric — but I will not have you dishonor the two of us with your games."

Yet he was following the green ball regardless. The currents were picking up and the Spanish moss grew thicker as they put on speed.

"A deal was made. We are here on a mission of discovery, and we honor our promises. If you find fault, find it with me and not my attendants, and I will make amends."

Meggan had ended up floating just alongside Alani as the confrontation took place, having properly acclimated to her surroundings with proper gills, and everything required for the environment as they swam. Now, she really hoped that Namor wouldn’t be a bit too imperious for this one’s liking. It seemed that keeping up with the green ball was a bit of the easier part at this point!

She raised a brow, concerned for the situation as she glanced worriedly over to Alani. Her expression relayed everything on her mind. She was wondering if they ought to interrupt the pair, or if saying anything at all at this point would make the tension spike ever higher.

Talking was not something she did in this form, and the green ball continued sinking lower and lower into the swamp until it came upon an underwater passage wide enough for the mortals to fit through without worry of getting stuck. She zoomed through it at a speed they could keep pace with, slowly regaining a humanoid, talking form as they came upon the ruins. "Most of my hunger is quite sated by poachers these days. And mortals are told not to swim in these waters by ones I am told are somehow in charge of these lands. If they trespass, they're free game for what lives here." Her hand gestured expansively at the ruins in front of them, stone and unidentified bits that glinted in the pale light. "Behold, a remnant of Atlantis."

"Beautiful," and there was a certain amount of hopeful awe in Namor's voice as he surveyed the ruins coldly. He sat poised, calm and restrained, looking over what honestly was only a set of moss-eaten pillars on the swamp floor. A couple areas looked more promising — namely what might be the promise of some murals, a doorway, and a few large pillar structures.

"Alani, Meggan. If you would."

This was coupled with an idle gesture for the two of them to go do their thing. Namor turned back to the nymph, "Mortals are fools: ownership without understanding, words before true commitment. You are extremely gracious to not simply return this peninsula to the sea."


Back on land, Clint, America, Matt, and Molly check the area for anything that might indicate Atlanteans were there, but upon finding nothing, they set up lunch.



Clint dug the toe of his boot into the sand and rocks on the beach they’d come to, then looked up and focused on the tree line. “Can’t make out any kind of path openings from here, but let’s spread out a little and see if there’re any indications Atlanteans might’ve come here after their floating outpost sank,” he said.

The trees were mostly bare and scraggly, winter in Florida ensuring they weren’t coated in sweat from the get-go, at least. The scent of decaying plant life and salt water seemed somewhat flatter in the cold. “Stay within eyesight and/or sense-range of one another, though. I’ve watched way too many people fall into holes in horror movies to let that happen to any of us.” He half-laughed as he said it, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness to his words.

Florida, at least some of the tourist areas, were familiar- enough to Matt, but this was far from Key West or similar destinations and completely foreign. This meant he was spending more time trying to acclimate his senses to understand what was around him than he liked to admit. "I don't think there is quicksand in Florida," he pointed out. But holes weren't quicksand. "At least there's no snow."

"Unless something weird happens," Molly offered with a helpful grin as peered down at a device while sweeping over the area.

"Nothing out of the ordinary so far. Just lots of logs and rocks."

"Couple of dinosaurs eyeing me like I'm a tasty treat. They would be so disappointed." America stepped carefully, testing each patch of ground before she put weight on it.

"I meant more because there are all those stories about forests being covered up by the ocean and then the sand settles and the trees obviously die but when the ocean receded, the trees stayed buried. They all decayed or whatever but the sand dunes didn't move so now there's just all these holes," Clint said, searching along the sand, stone, and brush in front of them. He paused for a moment, frowning slightly. "But that might just be in California?" He squinted skyward, then shrugged and peeled off to the left. "Matt, use the comms to tell me when I'm out of heartbeat range."

"Nothing sounds hollow like that here," Matt said, nodding and tapping his ear with the comm. Despite the Florida heat, he was still in his full uniform, including helmet, along with thigh high wader boots. Everyone was in uniform. "Go whenever, I'm listening."

America made sure a sufficient time had passed before she complained. "We got time for a break? I haven't seen anything but swampland and I'm hungry."

"Yeah, I could eat. Might be good to fuel our brains a little bit before we get back to scavenger hunting?" Molly said, lifting her arms above her head to stretch. "I brought oreos in case anyone wants some!"

Clint quirked a smile, barely able to hear the discussion about food. He'd gone ahead a little ways, then found a tree he could climb so he could get a slightly higher vantage. It wasn't like there were many trees tall enough to give him a good view and the mangrove roots definitely impeded any attempt he made to move farther into the actual forest itself, but he managed to get just high enough to note the forest didn't seem to have any weird empty spaces.

Jumping from his perch, Clint made his way back toward the others. "Let's go ahead and get set up for lunch. I've got plenty of sandwiches to go with the Oreos. Also, water. Hydration is important," he deadpanned, then cracked up even as he shrugged his pack off and opened it to get at their 'rations.'

America dove in to help him. "Dibs on some roast beef." She worked silently while the food was passed out, then plopped tiredly on her butt. "So far, bupkiss. Do we want to keep looking?"

Tugging his mask off, Matt tucked it in his belt, before making himself comfortable, "Clint you were still in range when you climbed the tree, you could have gone another few hundred yards probably," he reported, opening a bottle of water and chugging half of it, "We might want to move another half mile or so to the next section."

Molly was trying not to look terribly bored as she disassembled an Oreo, ate the middle, and then the other two cookies. "What happens if we don't find anything? Who has to tell Namor? 1-2-3 not it."

Unwrapping one of the sandwiches, Clint shrugged. "I mean, if we don't find anything, we can still hope he finds something with the water spirit, Alani, and Megan. And if they don't turn up anything, either... well. We keep looking. It's not like we'll ever stop until we actually figure out what happened," he continued. "Anyway, everybody eat up. We'll go farther out like Matt suggested once we've wrapped up lunch."