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Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2016 1:12:57 GMT -5
Outside Castle Doom, Doomstadt, Latveria
The seat to the Throne of Latveria has had many visitors in recent years. Various envoys and researchers have come to the city to try to learn about it’s new ruler and the small country’s rapidly growing importance on the World Stage. This particular envoy, however has the advantage of being one the most unusual one ever to arrive here. Probably the most unusual one sent to any modern country.
It is the full envoy of the underwater kingdoms of Atlantis and it’s Crown Prince, Namor. He is known colloquially to those above the waves as the Sub-Mariner. A war hero decorated with medals from all the major Allied powers. A member of the team of super-powered Invaders who fought the Axis powers on every major front. Though today their exploits are considered largely fictitious, viewed as nothing more than propaganda meant to prove Allied martial superiority against the Axis powers. Captain America, Human Torch, Sub-Mariner, Union Jack, Spit-Fire, Toro, Bucky and others. All just movie tricks and lies to most of the average people.
But Namor, Avenging Son of Atlantis was no propaganda piece and it annoyed him to no end to be viewed as such in this supposedly “modern time.” Perhaps that is why he had asked for this assignment from his Grandfather, Thak-kor, High King of the Atlantean Kingdoms. He wanted to matter in a way that could not be trivialized in that asinine Radio Drama ‘The Sub-Mariner’ that had become popular after the war. That show thought he had gills of all things and claimed he could speak to sea life. One episode had even had him ‘blow up’ his body like a puffer fish. It was insulting trash; something for him to deal with at a later date.
The eight members of the Honor Guard of Atlantis, bore no flag, as Atlantis did not have one of it’s own. What use was a flag when you were the only nation in 71% of the planet you inhabited. They were dressed in very little. Their dark blue skin were contrasted by what looked like nearly glowing silver tattoos of odd cuneiform-like script. The only clothing they wore were black leather-like pants (and tops for the two women.) Around their faces they wear a transparent breathing apparatus, the sea-water they breath visible in the device. A small glow came from near the center of the device, some sort of communication device that allowed them to speak while wearing the breathing masks. Each of them carried a metal pole weapon of some variety that seemed to have some sort of embedded circuitry and each had a side arm that look like something out of a science fiction feature.
Namor was not dressed in the green scaled trunks and orichalcum belt that he often wore during the war. That was casual attire and not fit for meeting a fellow royal. Instead he was clothed as the Crown Prince is supposed to be clothed. His green scaled trunks traded for a caddisfly silk loincloth embroidered with gold on the edges, though he wore a orichalcum belt it was of a different design, the open shell replaced with a closed one. A symbol of the closed fist of the Atlantean Royalty.
His wrists bore orichalcum gauntlets engraved with the mystical symbols of Poseidon and a single large red garnet stone in the middle of the forearm on each. The sigils were ancient Atlantean meant to protect the wearer against bad currents in life. Around his shoulders and neck he wore a blood red cape held together by an orichalcum clasp and chain, long enough to allow the sides of the cape to lie on his shoulders.
As they approached Castle Doom, Namor smirked for a moment. He was used to seats of government of the major World Powers and while quaint, they did not compare to the vastness of Castle Doom. It reminded him of the Imperial Palace in his home city of Neptune. Vast, elegant, intimidating to the peasants. If this was the home of King Von Doom than he had to respect the man more than other world leaders. He considered that perhaps this was the reason that Latveria was chosen to normalize relations with before any of the so-called World Powers that desired it.
He spoke to his Honor Guard in Atlantean, a language that sounded very odd above the water but sounded like music beneath the waves, “Be respectful. Be mindful. Represent our nation as only our best can. Do not act without my will.”
The Honor Guard nodded at his commands as they all awaited whatever greeting the King of Latveria was to give them.
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Lord Doom
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Doom's word is law.
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Post by Lord Doom on Dec 18, 2016 15:08:13 GMT -5
The vast iron gates of the city of Doomstadt were guarded well by the soldiers manning the parapets. The green and black flag of Latveria, the sigil of their Lord Doom, fluttered in the breeze at any of the corner towers and hung neatly on either side of the large gates. Doom was one to remind any who dared tread upon his homeland that it was his and his alone.
The two guards, clad in the rich green wool military tunics and helmets reminiscent of their master, faced each other as the Atlanteans approached. Their lord had given orders to permit them entrance, though he himself had not yet come to the gates.
"OPEN." one of the men shouted, and the huge iron doors parted inwards.
Their master came then in that moment, appearing as if out of thin air behind the gates to greet his honored guests personally. Doom was a strongly built man, or so his intricate armor would indicate. His mask was a grimacing face of enchanted steel, made from the same as the rest of his armor, and only his deep green eyes shone through. The populace of the city had been ordered to line the streets, as had most of the city's military presence, which was not an inconsiderable number. They lined the street all the way up the winding road which led to Castle Doom, high up on the hill at the back of the city.
As the gates locked into their open position, the people of the city cheered and applauded and welcomed the new arrivals. Doom was many things to his enemies, but he was a gracious leader and tender to his people. The edge of this particular sword in regards to his conquest of Eastern Europe was, of course, that if you did not bow to Doom and accept his offer to become a part of his empire...you were destroyed. No camps. No long slow torments. Conquest could be swift and methodical. And Doom preferred that method.
The man himself bowed low and spread his arms before his guests at the gate.
"Welcome," Doom said in his thick accent, "Welcome to Doomstadt. I hope that your journey through my beautiful land has been a pleasant one, Namor of Atlantis."
He rose and stood tall.
"Your coming was revealed to me," he explained, "As I have no doubt you are aware, I am Lord Victor Von Doom. I am your servant when you are within my walls. It is my hope that we may discuss a great many things, if you would do me the honor of hosting you as my guests."
He gestured broadly, even to the guards which flanked the curious man who no doubt must be Namor himself. Doom's mastery of the mystic arts did grant him a certain length of foresight, but not far. Though he did see the arrival of the Atlanteans, and thus prepared the way for them. He was, if nothing else, a gracious host to his allies. He found that to be only prudent.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2016 1:40:17 GMT -5
Namor smirked in approval of the reception. This 'Lord Doom' certainly knew how to receive visitors. What remains to be seen however if he knows he is receiving his better, not his equal.
The arrogance was not unfounded on Namor's part. Well not entirely. Atlantis was an advanced civilization, especially by the standards of the Surface World. Technologically it surpassed many of the newly-named 'First World Nations.' After over 8000 years of development without interruption of Dark Ages, wars or internal strife. If they had advanced farther culturally was a matter of opinion, but in Namor's eyes it wasn't even an argument.
"Well then Lord Doom," Namor finally said, "You are correct. I am the Crown Prince; ';/
Namor, Avenging Son of Atlantis."
He looked to the township and the castle before him and continued, "And we are honored to be received by the monarch of Latveria." Namor was almost obviously reciting lines he was given by someone to sound more diplomatic in this situation.
He looked back to his Honor Guard and the leather-like clothing they wore, "It is not often that the people of Atlantis feel welcome upon the Surface. But you have made us feel so. Those of my Honor Guard require salt-water to survive; while I can breathe the tainted oxygen you consider air."
He crossed his arms across his chest and said "So... I make our first pact. Assure that I will not need them, and I will send my Guard away to breathe comfortably. And then you and I can discuss the relations of Atlantis and Latveria in this new world that is occurring around us."
He looked back to Doom, his eyes filled with arrogance and hubris, "Because, King Von Doom, I can say that I respect what you did against the Nazis and their Axis. You sound an honorable man to me. And if you are as honorable as you seem, I need no guards."
Left unspoken was the other point... Namor was nigh invulnerable, stronger than any being willing to show it's strength, and faster than the speed of sound, when flying above the surface. He didn't remotely think that Doom could harm him. This was a show of deference, to let Doom know he trusted the dictator to not attempt to harm him.
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Lord Doom
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Doom's word is law.
Posts: 33
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Post by Lord Doom on Dec 26, 2016 18:29:08 GMT -5
Doom nodded slowly, offering a gesture to the guards surrounding the Crown Prince of Atlantis.
"Your Honor Guard will prove of little use in the kingdom of Latveria," he assured him, earnestly, "It is not Doom's wish to pull our nations into conflict. Rather, to unite them in a common cause. If that might also be your wish, then there is no need of them."
Without a word, Doom's own guards on all sides raised their rifles along their shoulders and crossed their free arm across their chests. Doom's troops knew their master's will before he even issued a command or a glance to them. In Doom's realm, his word was absolute law and his soldiers and commanding officers knew well to anticipate his moods and commands accurately. The many reeducation bunkers their master had devised ensured total obedience to the rule of Doom, and taught each member of his army their lord's will. It was half sorcery and half a scientific method of reeducation, and it had served Doom well.
"Lord Doom will suffice," he said, correcting Namor again on his referring to him as King, "There are none with the title of King in this land. And there never shall be again."
He stepped closer to Namor, his piercing eyes examining the Crown Prince's. There was an arrogance behind them, something Doom knew well. Surely this king of the fish did not find his footing too assured on dry land? Doom had many questions, but knew to tread carefully as this would otherwise break down into a battle of egos.
With one swift move, Doom offered his armor-clad right hand to the Crown Prince. To brace the right hand and forearm in a gesture of welcome was an older custom of the land, but nevertheless upheld.
"Your men shall come to no harm," he continued, "They may travel where they will if you wish them gone. Your Highness shall remain safe here. There is much to discuss, and much that our nations can gain from being friends with one another. A skirmish would be of no benefit to either of us. Surely you would agree. And it would be far best if we were to discuss what I have in mind in a more comfortable environment."
Doom stood his ground, still as stone, awaiting the acceptance of his gesture. A palanquin with two chairs, ornate and forged of blackened steel with lush green furnishings along the arms and seat and back, came forward behind Doom. It was borne by twelve men, dressed similarly to the guards, but they wore black steel masks matching the same steel of the palanquin itself. They set it down with a mighty clang and bowed behind their master.
Namor seemed no fool to Doom. But evidently perceived himself of greater importance than he was in Doom's estimation. There was a power within him, to be sure, and that could be useful. But Doom had no reason to manipulate the Crown Prince. It would not do. There was a common goal to be reached, and many to benefit from its achievement.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2016 3:31:22 GMT -5
Namor then made a noise, or rather speaks in his native language. Something that sounds like the noise a whale would make if it didn't 'sing' beneath the waves. With that the Honor Guard made an unfamiliar gesture, perhaps a salute of some type and then turned and headed away from Doomstadt and it's land-locked borders. They would not show any sign of their superior traits until they were back to the Atlantean shuttle that had landed kilometers outside of the city's proper borders. Atlantean's did not show weakness, and the Honor Guard was not about to break that rule.
While Doom 'sized him up,' Namor gave no expression. He was used to the examining stares of the surface dwellers. They all wanted to see something in him. Some sought familiarity, some sought alien nature, some sought exploitation. None of that mattered much to the Sub-Mariner. He had already proven himself, in his opinion, to the nations of this world many times over. Honestly, even to his own people he was unnaturally powerful. Let this Lord Doom look him over.
And then with a nod he said in Latverian, a language few knew but Namor had was sure to teach himself before this visit, "Thank you, Lord Doom. My people tend to abhor the surface. I am... unique in that aspect."
For a moment Namor thought back to Steve Rogers and his Invaders. Steve was dead now, but he had said things to the Atlantean Prince that had set him on this course. A course of peace and cooperation. He was still arrogant and knew that his own superiority complex was valid. But Steve would want him to be... civil. Steve would have him be the Surface World's Super Man. To play the part of a bridge between worlds, to show people a better way.
And as much as he considered the late Captain America one of his closest friends. He would decline it. He would instead play his own part. As the Scion of Atlantis. To prove that Atlantis and it's Avenging Son were to be respected and feared. To realize that a Nation that ruled over nearly 2/3rds of the planet has a more important voice than any of the so-called "First World Nations" of the Surface.
"We had no intention to fight. An Honor Guard is required whenever a member of one of the..." Namor said in Latverian. He hesitated, perhaps finding the right word. Or perhaps hiding information about his aquatic nation, "Of a member of Royalty meets in an official capacity."
Namor took Doom's arm in a similar gesture. It was odd to him, that a surface nation would understand this Atlantean tradition. Allow a grasping of the forearms; it shows that you are willing to allow the person in striking distance. Showing you do not consider them a threat. Atlantis was a very militaristic culture after all.
"May Latveria and Atlantis be friends in the coming troublesome times." Namor said as he lightly grasped Doom's forearm. Painfully diplomatic in scope. A phrasing his mother had suggested to him.
After their gesture was done though Namor looked at the metal masked man in front of him and said, "I agree with you though. We have much to discuss. I am entirely invulnerable to the climates of your Surface World. So I will allow your Lordship to lead me to where we can speak of more deeper matters."
A person skilled in reading body language could tell that this was not Namor's usual forte. He was much better at punching things, diplomacy was new.
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Lord Doom
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Doom's word is law.
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Post by Lord Doom on Jan 7, 2017 22:42:52 GMT -5
Doom nodded slowly as the hand shake was completed. It had been a long standing tradition in Latveria, and he was pleased that it resonated just as well with the Atlantean.
"Much to discuss indeed," he said in reply as gestured to the palanquin, sitting in one of the seats himself, "The second Great War is behind us, but before us are dark times for my land. There is a faction which is proving most troublesome to stamp out."
As the two were seated, the palanquin was hoisted by the men drawing it and began to be carried through the street toward the castle at the end and up the winding roadway. The guards lining the street all bowed as the palanquin came into their line of sight, out of respect both for their master and his honored guest. There were thin shade curtains which had been drawn around them and the clamor of the motion outside as the palanquin was moved drowned out the speech within from prying ears.
"I must confess, Your Highness," Doom continued, "That an alliance between our two great nations is a proposition I do not take lightly. It is not my wish to impose upon you, let alone drag you into conflict you might otherwise avoid. I hope to prove a friend to you this day, and should any power I possess be required, it will most certainly be at your disposal in return."
It was true that the remnants of the scattered HYDRA were interfering with Doom's conquest of the area, but not so much that it was overly hopeless. Still, his deal with Madame HYDRA herself, namely that she would work as his agent should she be needed, was proving to be...unnecessary. He required her child back in his possession. That was all. There was little she could do that he could not himself, though it was mostly to keep an eye on her while this little skirmish between them played on.
"If this war could be ended decisively and swiftly, so that Doom's control of the land is uncontested, so much the better for all." he said as he looked out of the shade and raised a hand to salute his soldiers as they passed, "I had learned long ago that to love your people is to earn their undying devotion. It serves no great purpose to be a cold dictator. Even still, those who do not willingly join the Latverian Empire as our tank treads break their ground are destroyed. It is a better world that we build, is it not?"
He gestured to the sprawling city, all immaculate and well preserved. It was true that, for all of Doom's reported villainy, the people of Latveria prospered always. They were foremost in his mind. The evils that he did were in their name as much as his and certainly for their benefit.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 12, 2017 2:16:33 GMT -5
It didn't take a genius to see a glimmer of excitement in Namor's eyes at the idea of more battle and war. He was a warrior first and foremost and loved proving his superiority of on the field of battle. “It’s actually surprising how most of the nations of the surface world don’t seem to realize that an enemy defeated is not an enemy destroyed. You...”
He paused there, “I do not mean you personally Lord Doom, I mean these nations like the United States of America, the United Kingdoms and Союз Советских Социалистических Республик all seem to think that because the Deutsches Reich and Dai Nippon Teikoku have surrendered that it means they are no threat to them anymore.”
Namor was well aware of HYDRA and the Hand. Blights that have continued to exist even after the war. He would probably do more about them, but he considered them mostly concerns of the surface. No U-Boat was safe from the Sub-Mariner and ninja was unsurprisingly less stealthy when in a pressure suit designed to allow the frail human body to survive at the depths that even the weakest Atlantean could exist easily in.
“The Americans had a correct idea when dealing with Dai Nippon Teikoku, they made them surrender their Empire... literally and dissolved their military entirely. It was a good first step.” Namor hesitated before adding the next step that his people would have taken. Scatter them to the tides as his people did with the Lemurians. And then be ready for them to return anyways.
He looked at Doom, “Your increasing domain after the division of Europe between the United States of America and the Союз Советских Социалистических Республик is actually why Emperor Thakorr sent me. Well... rather why I told him to send me. While the two so-called Super-Powers start their cold war against each other. Both too timid and weak to fight each other openly. Latveria expands and prospers.”
“War is not something Atlantis openly seeks,” Namor said, though that glint in his eye may say different, “But we are isolated beneath the waves. We require true allies on the Surface. And unfortunately the Allied Powers have proved that they do not fit their name.”
A bit of rage began to smolder behind the pale-blue eyes. Something had happened to embitter Namor so to his former comrades, “There have been some...” he clenched his fist, “Issues.”
“Issues that have since been apologized for, but not ones easily forgiven.” Namor was referring to Operation Crossroads. There a 23 kiloton nuclear bomb was tested underwater near Bikini Island. Despite the American government knowing of the existence of the Atlantean people, and of a small community near the island it was tested. And it killed 500 Atlanteans in the shock-wave. 100 more with the radioactive aftermath. It was Namor himself who put a stop to the third bomb. Though the American Military later claimed it was because they couldn’t clean up the contamination.
It was actually Namor’s restraint in deciding to not drop the planned bomb over US soil that resulted in there not being a new war started that day, “Your nation is expanding, and it will require allies. The Советская will eventually take more interest in this and with this cold war that is forming the Americans and the United Kingdoms will not have your best interests at heart.”
He frowned slightly, “And unfortunately, there is probably little use that my own people’s military can be to you in a direct conflict. My people are salt-water breathers, as I said before, their time on the surface is limited. I doubt that we can help you in any sort of protracted war, especially with Pоссия. Nor are we willing to trade you technological advances. We don’t trust those on the surface. They weaponize everything and blast beta radiation into the atmosphere.”
To Doom’s comment of a better world Namor could not help but look around with a bit of a scornful look, Namor looked at the city scape around him. While he would admit that Latveria had that “old-world charm” that he liked among most of the European nations, it did not look like a better world to him. No, rather it did not look like a better than Atlantis world to him. As a patriot and a bit of a supremacist, the Crown Prince of Atlantis seemed like he would always view even the best of the Surface World with contempt.
Well, contempt to a certain degree, he respected individuals, not civilizations. Doom, so far, had his respect, “But I do agree. You must love your people in order to rule them. It is a symbiotic relationship. I would die for my people, and thus they would die for me. My grandfather thinks...”
He hesitated again, “We have different ideals on how an Emperor should rule his people.” He tried to sound diplomatic but it was obvious that it was a source of discord between the Royal Prince and his Emperor.
He shook his head and smirk, “I apologize Lord Doom. I am not much of a diplomat. I am sure that is obvious by now. I am here because I know the Surface World better than any Atlantean ever can. I convinced my grandfather to allow me to come here to negotiate an alliance with you.”
He looked directly at the masked face of Doom, his smirk gone, the arrogance gone from his expression, “I did so because of all of the World Leaders I have heard about, met and researched, I view you as a man of honor.”
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Lord Doom
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Doom's word is law.
Posts: 33
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Post by Lord Doom on Jan 12, 2017 4:29:11 GMT -5
Doom returned Namor's look, and considered all that he had said.
It did not bode well. Doom was greatly displeased by the majority of what the Crown Prince had laid bare.
"Indeed you have little gift for diplomacy. Perhaps it was a poor decision to send Your Highness in lieu of your...Emperor." he said in an especially cold voice as he slowly turned his hooded head forward toward the approaching gates of Castle Doom.
The great gates to the towering castle parted and the palanquin was carried in a still utterly smooth motion into the courtyard. The courtyard itself was magnificent. A fountain ran through the center, bearing a huge marble shield bearing the coat of arms of Victor Von Doom. There was foliage all around, and fruit bearing trees. Compared to Doom's dark countenance and manner of speech, one might consider that he was hardly at home here. But his magic divined from both the darker worlds and the living world he occupied. And so it would do to be surrounded by natural beauty as well as the machinations of the mankind. The castle was otherwise all of a very ancient grey stone, but of sturdy build. From the parapets all around, more of the long green banners bearing Doom's mark fluttered lightly in the gentle breeze of the day.
As the palanquin was set down and Doom dismounted, he moved over toward one of the rose bushes nearby and held one of the blooms gently in his armored hand.
"Our world is distasteful to you," Doom remarked as he admired the rose before standing erect again and clasping his hands behind his back, turning once more to his guest, "It can be read in your eyes and in your words. You have said that Doom is a man of honor, and this is indeed so. But what man does not see himself as honorable? Even the Baron himself, the previous ruler within these walls and who now lies buried in a shallow pauper's grave outside the city considered himself an honorable man. And it is I who left him there. Is my own perceived honor of greater value? What are we but our convictions? The sum of our parts? I think not. Atlantean, Latverian, American, Russian, servant, free...we are all but a mind puppeteering a shoddy frame to and fro to different tunes perhaps, but ultimately to the same end. We are not so different as you might think. Nor our worlds. Indeed, segments of the very same world."
For a moment, Doom seemed lost in his own thoughts. He regained himself and moved toward the Crown Prince, purpose in his voice.
"If I may advise Your Highness on a matter of diplomacy," he said carefully, "It does not serve either of us well for you to refuse Doom what he requires so quickly upon your reception. It is in very poor taste indeed. Following the logic of what you profess, what indeed use might there be in an alliance with Atlantis, if not to help Latveria in its struggles? Or to exchange resources, which you have also so summarily refused me?"
He stopped closer near the Atlantean and did not move his green eyes from Namor's own gaze.
"If Doom were to propose a solution to your peoples'...problem with survival on the surface," he said, "Would you be open to reconsidering your position? Doom is not a common human lord begging for guns of another. It is a far more subtle game which I play."
Doom did not avert his eyes. Nor indeed blink at all.
"If you have an alternative proposition for how best to forge an alliance short of mere words and an embrace of the forearm," Doom continued, "It would be my privilege to hear it."
He gestured toward a doorway, beset by two soldiers who stood rapidly at attention.
"Unless you would prefer to retire and contemplate. It has perhaps been a taxing journey for you."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2017 20:46:35 GMT -5
Namor looked a bit angry for a moment at Doom’s words. After all who was he, to dare speak to Namor in such a fashion. He was the strongest being on the planet, Doom was a tin-pot dictator with delusions of grandeur! He thought he should just rip this moron’s head from his shoulders and...
Captain America’s words echoed in his brain. You don’t hate us nearly as much as you think you do.
Because that was the real reason Namor was sent here instead of a diplomat or the Emperor himself. That was why he was the face of Atlantis to the surface. Because while Namor found those who dwell on the surface annoying at times. He didn’t actually hate or fear them like the rest of his people did. He even considered some of them the best friends he had ever had.
Namor smirked a genuine smile of happiness and held up his hand as if telling Doom to wait for a moment, ”Apologies, Lord Doom. It seems that I have had too many hostile encounters with the so-called World Powers lately. I forgot that I was not dealing with unreasonable men who wanted nothing more to exploit the oceans and slowly annex territory that has long been our homes.”
He nodded and said, ”And I consider you a man of honor because your goal is not conquest and oppression. Rather liberation. You did not overthrow the Baron because you wanted his power. You did it because you were responding to the cries of his people. Your people.”[/color] Maybe Namor wasn’t such a horrible diplomat after all, when his own arrogance and prejudices were kept in check.
”And I spoke in too much haste in regards to our potential aid. While most of our technological advancements are out of the question, I doubt that is a worry for you. From what I have heard and studied about you: You are quite possibly the most technologically brilliant man on the planet.” Namor was being genuine, while he probably didn’t think Doom’s intelligence matched that of Atlantean scientists, but he did indeed know that Doom was more intelligent than a large majority of the human population.
He looked at Doom forgivingly, ”So let us start over, as men of honor and as representatives of our people. Atlantis is prepared to make a formal alliance with Latveria. The nature of what it will and not entail is open to discussion. I have been given wide authority in this matter.”
“I have little need of rest right now. I would prefer we continue to discuss this matter for now, until we reach an impasse.” A small laugh escaped Namor’s lips as he added, ”And that we ignore my own petulance from earlier”[/color]
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