1915-10-04 - In Search of Atlantis
Summary: A teenaged Howard Stark searches for Atlantis. Instead, he finds Namor
Related: None
Theme Song: None
howard namor 


The Oceans are still a place of mystery in the year 1915. The world has turned away from seeking and adventure, to fight a war that would cover a great deal of the world. People were frightened and this 'War to End All Wars' was fought hard in the trenches of Europe in particular. Still- there was a place for navies.

Ships from all nations have been lost, particularly those leaving mines or firing shells that land in the oceans instead of their intended targets. As always sailors tell tales of men and women in the water, harassing their ships in the middle of the Atlantic. The stories of Shell-Shocked warriors, no doubt, trying to make sense of the senselessness of war. Still- it is somewhat odd that otherwise sea-worthy vessels would disappear in otherwise calm seas.

Today was like any other day for the young Prince Namor who patrolled the Atlantic at speeds no current technology would ever allow. Faster than any torpedo he circles the areas within a thousand miles of Atlantis- still hidden by her technology. The number of war-ships from the surface has led to unrest in the Atlantean realms- and Namor's Grandfather, the aging ruler of Atlantis has sent his Grandson, Namor, to ensure the safety of the realm. His great strength and ability now to be on show to ensure the Atlantean people will trust the heir of Atlantis to protect them.

The stretch of Ocean Namor patrols now is perhaps five hundred nautical miles from the straight of Gibraltar- in an area details in ancient Greek maps as the approximate location of ancient Atlantis- this is not the actual case, Atlantis lays two thousand miles south, hidden among ocean-mountains that long ago sunk under the sea for reasons unknown to the surface world- the area has recently become a hotbed for missing ships, and the world's navies are for now avoiding the stretch of water.

High above a lone ship waits out in the middle of the seemingly endless sea, rocking slowly across the waves above. Made to look like a simple fishing trolley there's not much mind paid to it, even as the doors open up beneath. Bubbles of air flutter out over the sides as a round almost cannonball like object falls from beneath the ship landing down in the water before rapidly sinking.

The object itself has several small viewing windows for looking out to varying directions and a rather simple lamp system set to the front of it. Yet with the speed it's already traveling from the moment it touches water it is likely the second fastest thing in the water right now. Inside the almost acorn shaped object things are somewhat cramped. A young man no older then 14 sits at the controls of a device so advanced it could almost seem like witch-craft.. for the time that is. "Who's that general think he is calling me out on the carpet." His cracking voice hitting puberty in its stride as the young man moves from one set of controls to the next, doing complex calculations completely by hand as he manually pressurizes the metal deathtrap being propelled along by its rotters.

He's accompanied by a pair of much older gentlemen who are working to his own orders. Three of them in all "Stark that man is a general and deserves a bit more respect. We wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for his funding." Howard giving a bit of a scoff as the pressures properly stabilize barely enough room to hold the men with how thick the walls of this monstrosity needed to be. The lantern before them lighting up their way as the bay doors of the fishing trolley close down behind them.

"Have more respect for the man if he didn't keep reading me the riot act any time I tried to take a trip to the can. A man's got priorities!" As he uses a small wrench to adjust one of the main tubes keeping their speed up at quite the fast clip. "And we wouldn't be here if I didn't find that map in the first place." He adds adjusting his thick goggles.

It was the fish who were disturbed first- this alien from above their breathable atmosphere sending them swimming away. Namor had seen the vessel and assumed it home to fishermen- and he had more important things on his mind than harassing fishermen. The odd craft, however, that left the belly of that ship was new to Namor and the ocean- something he'd never seen before.

For now, Namor kept his distance- watching the odd vessel as it sank into the water and then began to move under power. His eyes adapted for the deep giving him a leg-up on men who were forced to peek through ultra-thick glass into murky waters. His eyes narrowed, though as he watched it go. Like a shark, he stalks the depths- waiting to see if he can divine whatever arcane intent this new 'attack' on Atlantean waters the surface world had discovered.

The small craft speeds along rapidly displacing the waters around it as it careens fast down further and further into the depths with little effort. This craft may have been little more then a prototype but it is holding up, for the most part. Its sleek black design making it difficult for a person to discern it but for the atlantian who would be king? Mere childs play.

In side it's a frantic sea of movement and motions from one to the next as they try to keep up. "Howard, this damnable tin can of yours is tearing itself apart! If we wind up dead because if this I'm haunting you." The most bulky of the three men speaking up as he tries to wrap his own bandana over a leaking pipe to try and hold it together the pressure gauges on the inside of the craft starting to crack under the force of these depths.

"You couldn't haunt a ghost even if it was a real phenomenon." The young howard pipes back adjusting a few levers the old fashioned way allowing them to bottom out near the sea floor, speeding along to the reported positioning of the great city of Atlantis. "As it stands? If your boss the general would have just given me the extra two months like I asked this wouldn't be a problem." His own attention drifting out that ultra thick glass window as he catches something in the darkness thinking it nothing as they putter along.

The sea floor is dark- illuminated only by the lights on Howard's submersible contraption. Mostly featureless there are only flashes of light from deep-sea bioluminescent creatures- seen for the first time by human eyes. An eel slithers out of the way of the craft, flashing with red and blue along the bottom of its fins- its like the light-show of neon lights.

The sea floor suddenly churns as Namor swims past the front of the craft- moving at around 350 miles per hour, he's a flash of humanoid in the darkness as sea-floor muck is kicked up to make the water all the more murky and difficult to see. He swims with such grace and speed that the water current behind him tugs at Howard's craft as a surge of displaced water settles around them.

"I'm sure the general will be happy to know we've discovered the Starkessel rift, and a number of stark fish." Howard comments smugly resting his hands on the controls as the new creatures come into view. So cocky and smug that it's almost enough to make someone vomit. "I'd say even if we don't find that city of Atlantis we've found enough fish samples down here to make a man famous."

Howard turns around on the spot to look at the other two as they fumble about one of the men doing his best to just keep his cool as he's sprayed in the face by a bit of cold water, managing to crimp closed the offending pipe. Yet just as he's about to give his noble prize acceptance speech that thing moves quickly in front of their submersible sending it flying forward along the depths. Howard finding himself slammed up against the glass, each one of them discombobulated as seat-belts aren't exactly a priority or heard of in this time.

Stark leans down grabbing onto the controls with a good deal of force in an attempt to correct the current trajectory of their little craft. Scrapping the ocean floor as it bounds along for a few moments caught up in the current before finally regaining some semblance of control from their spin. "Anyone get the registration on that Howardfish?"

Namor has a flare for the dramatic- the murk of the ocean around him as he waits in the water for Howard's reeling vessel to right itself. The lantern shows a humanoid shape in the murk- impossible to see clearly, but a silhouette that floats still like a statue in the distance. Namor sees clearly through the murk- its nothing to any Atlantean. He waits now for the submarine to come closer- just staring with narrowed eyes as they seemingly ignore his 'buzzing' them a moment before. He'll let them come to him as the sea slowly begins to settle around him.

Thankfully for the men inside the ship is holding together somewhat though it's clear to anyone inside that there are some problems with the structural integrity of the ship. Thankfully unlike a more modern day vessel they don't have any pesky co2 monitors or anything like that to get them worked up. "Seriously though, if we've found alien life down here? I'm naming the race the Starkesians. Don't care if they already have a name."

Still joking even as a massive welt develops on his forehead from where he'd managed to smash into the glass, thankfully not cracking anything in the process. Their ship moving along in order to try and catch up with the thing that had nearly sent them slamming back down into the sea floor.

Namor's form looms in the darkness as Stark's ship gets close enough now to make out the outline of *something* in the murk. It doesn't move like an animal might- no retreating for Namor. Instead, it approaches the submarine- appearing like some mythic creature of the deep oceans. In the light he is clearly humanoid- the teenaged Namor somewhat thinner and more gangly than he will appear later in life. Those eyes, though, are mean. Angry. The surface world is trespassing here. He looks into that window- his eyebrows knitting together as he watches the humans within.

And pressing his face right back against the glass to get a better look is Howard Stark. A young man only a slight bit younger then Namor at this point. His thick goggles making his own eyes appear a good two sizes bigger then they should as he tries to get a better view adjusting the dial on the side of it only to jump back a slight bit as the figure comes into view. "You know, something tells me it's not happy." The rest of the three man crew becoming visible once the young mans face with his pencil thin mustache is no longer blocking the port.

Namor then acts, grabbing Howard's contraption with both hands and hefting- it moves surprisingly easily for the Ocean's top predator. He guides the submarine towards the surface of the ocean- with little care for how he might throw the men inside around. When they breach the surface they're flying- floating in the air for a few moments before Namor surges towards the ship that had carried the submarine to this location. He simple drops the man-made invader onto the deck of that 'fishing vessel'. Not from so great a height as to ensure it would be sunk- but rather from no more than fifteen feet or so. He wants the men inside to live, after all. To tell the tale of the dangers of the deep. To inform the world that the oceans are not the dominion of the surface world. He shouts then, his voice loud and surprisingly deep for his young age- it calls with authority. "Know that I have spared you this once. Keep your trash out of my oceans! Prince Namor of Atlantis speaks thusly- invade our waters again at your own peril!"

Perhaps this was not the discovery of Atlantis Howard had imagined… but, in a way, he had at least confirmed its existence.

Namor then turns in the air, and dives away- not caring to hear any response from those explorers who'd discovered more than perhaps they'd thought they might.

Howard practically calls out to the fish man like an owner to a dog doing something naughty. "No. Bad fish-man! Put the Stark4 down this instant!" Even as he's slammed up against the glass by the sudden force. He manages to be pressed hard against the glass by the weight of the two other men brought along with him to keep their eye on him. And then they're falling back down to the wooden deck slamming down into place as the men are completely discombobulated. "That's it! No treat." As he falls back down onto the back of the pile, their little submersible slightly cracked open now leaking air and slowly depressurizing itself.

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