Difference between revisions of "Template:Featured Articles/49-2019"

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<td valign="top">[[Image: MoA Namor.png|left]]'''Moment of Awesome - [[Namor|Naqmor/The Submariner]]:''' ''[https://xp-logs.dreamwidth.org/4005505.html#cutid1 The King of Atlantis is having performance issues] and comes to [[Clinton Barton]] for assistance.''
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<td valign="top">[[Image: MoA Namor.png|left]]'''Moment of Awesome - [[Namor|Namor/The Submariner]]:''' ''[https://xp-logs.dreamwidth.org/4005505.html#cutid1 The King of Atlantis is having performance issues] and comes to [[Clinton Barton]] for assistance.''
  
  

Latest revision as of 12:01, 2 December 2019

MoA Namor.png
Moment of Awesome - Namor/The Submariner: The King of Atlantis is having performance issues and comes to Clinton Barton for assistance.


He sighed again, visibly deflated. It was subtle, however, and if had someone not been around the King of Atlantis as much as Clint (and, honestly, Kitty), they may not have noticed. “We have a problem with the royal accoutrement.”

“You mean the stuff you were wearing when you came out of the fancy cryotube in Barrow?” Clint eyed Namor, brow arched.

“Yes.” He nodded, pointedly, at the trident he was holding. “I hope you understand that I do not carry this item for just any casual setting.”

“Sure,” Clint nodded. “So what’s the problem?”

“It is no longer fulfilling its purpose,” and there was the twinge in the other man -- or whatever’s voice -- a subtle cord of intense concern.

“What’s its purpose?” Clint asked it patiently, knowing it could sometimes take Namor a while to actually divulge vital information.

Which wasn’t wrong.

Namor gestured meaningfully at the trident, waving it briefly in the air likes its incredible cosmic powers were readily apparent. “What is has always done. No longer.”

“What’s it always done?”

This earned Clint a long, hard stare. Then suddenly, Namor was off his feet and the trident was pressed dangerously near the archer’s neck.

A beat.

“The water in your body should be pouring out through your nose, Archer.”

“Good think you knew that wouldn’t work,” Clint said, one eyebrow rising. “Bee-Tee-Dubs, this is my unimpressed face.” Reaching over, he gestured toward the trident. “If you want me to fix it, you need to tell me what’s wrong, how it went wrong, and anything else you know about it. I’m good with tech, I’m obviously willing to help, but I can’t read minds. Otherwise, I might make it worse.”

Namor returned to his seat, sighing. “I used the trident heavily while helping the Xavier Militia. As is often the price of favors, it came at a heavy personal toll. The weapon is just a perfectly balanced weapon of war. It has lost its spark — the ability to move oceans, influence life itself.”

Nodding, Clint asked, “Do you know how it did that? What created or supported the spark?”

Another hard look. “The trident failed while in combat with the flaming golem. While I naturally rose above the occasion to prevail, I have an image as Lord of All Oceans to maintain.”