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Moment of Awesome - Namor/The Sub-Mariner: When Namor encounters Jay in the Chapel, the King is able to discuss his lost kingdom and potential opportunities for the younger man. "You havin' any luck with yer home?" He asked, slightly more gently. "No," he said flatly, "as of yet," was added more softly. "There have been traces. Histories." And that was apparently enough there, as Namor's eyes pivoted to Jay's laptop. "And you? Tell me of your great tasks." Jay rolled his eyes there. "I ain't sure you can call it great tasks, Namor," he said, using the name in a casual way that truly spoke of how he did not know the other man as a King. "Mostly just tryin' to get everything settled for a clinic, but all that means is bein' persistent with insurance companies who're all vultures of course and tryin' to find people to staff it at the moment." Technically the staffing wasn't Jay's problem, but he had been communicating with the insurance companies as he technically was executive secretary on the project. A nod. "This age is full of foolish administrative obstacles. But," and he shuddered, just a little, "Bureaucracy. I myself am suited for more direct paths toward resolution. Have you tried destroying these insurers? Tempting them with what they hold most dear?" "I think what they hold most dear is money and I've been given access to plenty of that to wave around. It's just seein' whose worth givin' it to," Jay said. "And I ain't never been much of a fighter. I like to talk things over when I can." "I do not see much of a difference," Namor said. "Effective words are often a sparring match between equal opponents." He gave a glance toward the basement entrance. "As is knowing how to swim and breathe at once. Do you often spend your time here?" "Wouldn't you if you had access to something so beautiful?" Jay asked. He paused. "Do you not hear it sing?" The once king turned back, and his expression had suddenly lost all goodwill or humanity. They were now a pair of predator's eyes, devoid of all but sharp interest. "Tell me what you hear," Namor said. Jay wasn't sure how to describe it so instead he harmonized with it for Namor, letting the other man hear what he heard. There weren't any lyrics, just an almost mournful tune. "Enough." It was a whispered command. "That is enough," he said again, but this time there was something pleading at its edges. Namor studied the youth like he was considering pinning him to a board. Jay stopped at the pain in Namor's voice. Was what he heard something from his friend's lost home? "I'm sorry," he said, sympathizing with the hurt Namor showed. "It has been recorded that everyone perceives the wormhole uniquely," the Atlantean said. The surety behind his tone was reflected in the way he stiffened, walling any of his momentary weakness behind fact. "Is it always the same song, for you?" "Not always, but I reckon most of it's likely from the same place. Why?" Jay asked, even though he was beginning to have his own suspicions. "Let us just say it reminds me of something from long ago." Namor gestured in slight dismissal. "Of course, I doubt the wormhole's song can compare to the resonating crystal acoustics of my home. Still," and he leaned in a little, "we have not had someone describe the anomaly in such a way." "How'd you describe it?" Jay asked, curious. The look Jay received was blunt enough to indicate Namor's desire to offer more (none), but he did offer a pivot. A confessional diversion. "The wormhole speaks to me like a pressure. A weight." Weight of his whole culture, maybe. The weight of being away so long. "So how d'ya monitor it anyways?" Jay asked, trying to offer Namor something to show him instead. Also, he couldn't deny he was curious and wanted to see the wormhole again too. "Maybe ya can show me what all the readin's mean or something." It didn't take any prodding at all. "The dred machinations of our science corps do most of the work," Namor said, "but we stand watch as they do their work." He gave a wave, then, and moved toward the basement. "Anyone can learn to stand sentry. Follow me." Jay followed obediently, glad to be of help. Maybe this sort of monitoring would give him some sense of stability in the wind he felt he'd been caught in. "You just show me what to do." "I will instruct you at my pleasure," Namor sneered. "But. Follow."