Ghosts No More

Summary:
March 15, 2015 : Captain America, Spitfire and Sub-Mariner meet after many years and discuss Bucky Barnes and Peggy Carter.

Queensland Park, Metropolis

Originally, this land was set aside by King George III for his consort
Queen Charlotte, though after the Revolution those who wanted to live like
'Kings' quickly set up their farms and became the shining welcome to
newcomers to Metropolis.

This area is home to the bulk of the immigrant population and while in
other areas, like New York and Gotham, would say that members of these
diverse ethnic cultures cannot live in close proximity, the residents of
Queensland Park prove it untrue.

Welcome to the melting pot of humanity.


Characters

NPCs

  • <Name of NPC or "None">
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Mood Music:
[*<http://insert.video.or.music.link.here>]


Namor is not happy that it appears as though Simon Williams is acting handler for him while he is on the surface. Frankly he is insulted and on the side of enraged, which is the Atlantean's general operating speed: Angry.
His flight is a lazy back and forth over Queensland Park leaving a jogger who decided to throw an energy bar wrapper on the ground upside down and stuffed face first in to a trashcan that was then kicked in a skipping roll towards a pond, fortunately the man didn't fall in and the punt was not bone breaking. Fear of God, an Aquatic One is instilled in the man at least.
One would almost think the Sub-Mariner is sulking as he drifts about the park with obvious disregard for the attention it is drawing him, he's not really fully aware of it himself at what it may look like, he is simply being Namor but the internet and current media is quick paced and fast reacting, a simple cellphone shot tells entire stories. Then of course there is always things like twitter with it's hashtags and alerts.
It's a sunny day this go, Metropolis looks beautiful as expected and much of the snow that has plagued it is very little a concern.


Suddenly there is a loud burst of the whiny sounds of engines and hydraulics as a quinjet flies up and over one of the larger hills of the park. The landing is swift, but gentle. After the engines cut, the back draw bridge slinks down to the ground and from Namor's vantage point, he'll be able to see a pair of red boots first.

"You're a hard guy to catch up with, Namor," says the Atlantean's old friend once he's close enough to speak. "Missed you last night. Got to the party late. I've been searching for you, wanted to talk to you about Bucky."


"Rogers." Namor says with his usual unimpressed-to-disdainful manner, "Your taste in attire is still ridiculous." Nevermind the Prince of Atlantis is clothed in only a pair of form fitted black pants. "Your long dead sidekick? Of all things transpiring why does this topic demand you seek me out."


Jacqueline Falsworth-Crichton wasn't attracted so much by the internet buzz as by the conversations on the street about 'that water guy with the ankle wings' punting a poor sod into the pond. Or nearly thereto. She strolls at a casual pace, a long, white cashmere coat covering her from ears to calves, her stylish brown boots visible beneath the hem. Her hands are in her pocket and there's a faintly amused expression on her face — you know… that aristocratic British look. Of course, her dancing eyes belie any superciliousness that might otherwise be conveyed.

As Namor and Rogers come together, her smile widens some and she adjusts her stroll to breach the discrete line not-so-discrete gawkers have formed around them. "What is this?" she calls out, upper class British accent distinctive and, no doubt, familiar. "Old home week?"


"Because despite your prickles, I figured you'd want to help me find him. Bucky's not dead," Cap looks over at Spitfire. "He was captured by the Soviets. Brainwashed. Turned into an assassin. I'm trying to bring him back and I thought you might help." Pause. "I like my clothes." Steve smiles over towards Jacqueline, "I had my metamucil today, so I should be good."


"You're sure of this?" Namor's brows inch upwards as he descends from his levitating float to the grass at his bare feet.
"I hadn't ex…" Another face of the past and the Sub-Mariner is twisting at the torso to look at the woman, "The Lady Invader herself… you here to reveal more ghosts?"


Jacqueline shakes her head. "Hardly," she says with a smile. "We're all ghost enough, I think." Her head cants, however, as she catches up with Cap's news and a faint frown replaces the smile. "That doesn't sound good, Captain. Do you know where he is, then?"


"I'm sure. I saw him on February 25th. At that time he was in SHIELD custody. Unfortunately all of that is above my clearance level—I was only able to speak to him because I was the highest ranking officer there that night. But I can work on that angle, what I want to know is if you both would be willing to help out." Steve's eyes flash big for a second, "In other news, I think there's someone after Peggy, but I haven't gotten much there either."


"A brainwashed assassin and now SHIELD has him? We should go break him free of their clutches? SHIELD is to be as trusted as much as HYDRA." The Sub-Mariner takes a moment to study Spitfire and manages a small smile, three Invaders and the discussion of a fourth. This may not have been a bad call as he had earlier assumed, the surface still holds allies for him, perhaps. "You hardly look a spirit."
"Peggy Carter? Amazing she still lives. Perhaps they would be doing her a service… " No filter, sometimes the Sub-Mariner just doesn't know when to hold his tongue.
"At her age of course." There is the apology.


Jacqueline arches a brow lightly. "After Peggy?" Like Namor, she's not actually acquainted with the fact Peggy is no more an elderly woman than she is. "Who? In what way?" After all, given Roger's history… he could merely be angsting over another man in her life. But, then again, given Peggy's history… she's got her own share of enemies.

Nevertheless, she glances to Namor and a wry twist pulls at her lips. "SHIELD's grown a bit feisty over the years," she admits. "It's certainly not the SSR, any more." More's the pity. There are times she misses the old days. Modern folks today wouldn't believe it, but the 40s were a whole lot more relaxed, in may regards, than things today.


"A trans-dimensional monster covered in green sludgeone that Howard Stark believes is from the pastcame through with a watch belonging to Peggy. My concern was that they were coming to kill her. I checked on her and she's fine at the moment, but Stark isn't giving me a whole lot of information." Steve raises his eyebrow at Spitfire's comment about SHIELD, but says nothing.


"Stark is still involved? She is doomed. A trans-dimensional monster magnet for an ex girlfriend and a government zombiefied killer for a sidekick." Namor's brows remain in that earlier arch, "I am going to speak surface to you now, Steve and I say this with the respect I afford no other humans… get your shit in order." The Prince is not above curse words in any language.
"You have need of our aid? It is a better utilization of my time than this…" A hand wave in the air towards the Hall of Justice, "Mockery."
"I would be happy to aid my Invader brethren once more. Bucky is one of us, Peggy… by proxy is one of us. Let us assist them." Which of course means Captain America. For the first time since setting foot on the shores of the United States the Sub-Mariner is feeling inspired.


MI-13 is Jacqueline's stomping grounds. Not SHIELD. Of course there's inter-agency rivalry there. Still… 'Weird crap', as the Americans say, is MI-13's specialty. She arches a brow faintly at Namor's pronouncement, and it gives way to an amused grin. "I see you're still as eloquent as always, Namor." To Rogers, then: "I was getting bored tracking down diabolists, anyway," she says with an off-hand shrug. "By all means. Let's straighten Bucky out and convince the Lords of the Outer Dark — or whomever it is harassing her — to leave Ms Carter alone, shall we?"


"Thanks guys," Steve says with a nod, "I appreciate it. I wouldn't ask if I didn't need it." He can't say much to Namor criticizing his 'shit.' In the past few weeks it's remarkable how his life went from order filled to chaos. Now he's not sure which side is up, and even whether guys like Fury and Stark are just using him for a pawn.


"I have ever been the epitome of culture and eloquence, lady Falsworth-Crichton." Namor fires back, "We're here. I have yet to find a… roof over my head? A domicile, a house, but I am here and will rally to whatever cause you wish to bark at and for." A limp wave of a hand in the air as if dismissing his own words and the Sub-Mariner is looking sidelong, back at the park. He is positively glowing but refuses to show such things around his comrades of old. It is like old times, when things were much simpler. Less colors to be concerned about, black and white with the occasinal red. You always knew who your allies and enemies were.
"I assume just punching Bucky really hard will not fix him?"


"We've guest suites at Falsworth," Jacqueline notes to Namor. "If you're intending to stay on land for a while, I can set you up with something, if you wish." Her head cants. "You, too, Captain, if you need." Sometimes a change of scenery helps. She straightens now, squaring her shoulders. "Where shall we begin?"


"I've got an apartment in Brooklyn and a room at the JL:A headquarters, so I'm good. In addition to Jac's place, I'm sure you can stay at the Avenger hideout, Namor. Mockery or no." He smiles faintly before Jacqueline's words brings him to attention.

"That's a good question. I think we each need to go to our respective networks and see if we can find anything. Between Europe, North America, and the sea, I'm sure we'll be able to figure out something." Steve looks to Namor, "And I know you have spies more than just underwater."

"My guess is Russia. The woman he was running with was a Russian. But without intel, I'm just not sure."


"I will be for sometime and if one of your suites comes furnished with an indoor pool or large aquarium I will gracefully accept." No elaborating necessary there, they are both familiar with Namor and if need be he will check in to the JL:A headquarters.
"Yes, Rogers, more sleeper cells than you can imagine dot your North America." Whether Namor is joking or not is a hard tell as his voice is flat and humorless with it's typical sarcastic upturn.


"Of course, there's a pool," Jacqueline assures the Atlantean. "And a waterfront view." She nods to Rogers. "I've still some contacts out there that might be useful. Let me set up a war room and get back to you. Send me anything you have and we'll sort it out." She has absolutely no qualms about redirecting Falsworth resources to Invaders means. Indeed, her father left a fund for just such a purpose. It's been sitting there, growing for the past 60 years, relatively untouched.


Captain America nods, "Well, let's all get to it then. I'll head back to New York and see what information I can get out of SHIELD. We'll meet up when one of us finds something or when it's time for us to rethink our strategies.


"Finally a worthwhile distraction." Namor lifts from the ground, "Oh, also, to see the both of you again… " A shrug and the Prince of Atlantis flies away without finishing his sentence. Feels are for lesser beings and peasants.
The Sub-Mariner's voice carries with his departure, "Your people will hear from my people about that room."


Jacqueline watches Namor fly away and chuckles dryly. "Some things never change," she says to Rogers. "I think that might actually be a comfort." That said, however, it's evident this meeting is at an end. "Regardless, we have a plan. I'll speak with you later." A beat. "Take care of yourself, Captain. The world isn't what it used to be." More's the pity. With that, however, she takes her leave so he can get the quinjet out of there and disperse the gawkers.


Captain America chuckles and slowly walks back to the Quinjet. For all of the bad news lately, it's good to have some old friends in high places for a change.


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