The Tides of Blood: Setting Plans Into Motion

February 02, 2015:

Orm consults with Mera about a pre-emptive strike against the Surface. Mera approves the plan. (emits by Aquaman)



NPCs: Orm


Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

The Atlantean Throne room is a quiet place. The generals are out mustering troop strengths, bringing the machines of war up to speed, rousing the reserves. Councilors are busy with work, and so it is the first moment of peace Mera has had in two days. If she were made of less stern stuff this sort of drain would have left her unfunctioning. How lucky for her it's only made her tired. The doors of the Throne Room open and Orm enters, dressed for battle in his armor and the helm that is his by right of bloodline and magical prowess. For the first time since she's met him he carries it with his own trident, giving him command of forces more destructive then most people will ever know. "My Queen." he says, offering a quick salute. "Mera I-" he stops, his gaze dropping to the floor, his voice cracking slightly. She can actually hear his hand tighten on the trident as he fights for control and wins, "Is it certain? He is gone?"


It has indeed been two days, and if she were being honest with herself, Mera is a little glad that she's not had any time to rest. Because while she's remained busy, she's been able to keep from dwelling. Now, though, with all of the Councilors and generals mobilized and doing their assigned tasks she finds herself with time too think. Too much time. She's just forcing herself to not reach out mentally to try and find Arthur when she hears the doors start to open. Hastily straightening her posture again, she moves to stand when she sees that it's Orm entering.

When she hears her brother in law's voice crack, she steps toward him, Arthur's trident still in her hand as if letting go of it would mean letting go of her husband. She reaches with her free hand to grasp Orm on the arm, the closest she feels she can get to offering condolences. Right now, anyway.


Orm has never liked Mera, he's made no qualms about showing it either. Orm is arrogant, narcissistic, violent at times, but he is at his core a good man. And despite what some may think given the arguments they have had over the years, he loved his brother. Orm stiffens under her touch, then relaxes, allowing for a silent acknowledgement of their shared loss. It lasts a full three seconds before he drifts back from her, breaking the connection. This is also Orm. The Crown must always come first. It is one of the things he's shared with Arthur. "You are readying the war machines, I have seen to the generals, the Magi have begun preparations for the rituals, but I sense a slowness in the proceedings. As if you were taking your time." his tone is softly accusatory, "We must strike /now/, before they can realize what is coming for them, so hard as to stagger them, shake their foundations!" his fingers curl into a white knuckled fist.


Mera lets Orm step back when he's ready, but when he starts making noises like he thinks she's doing everything too slowly, her expression hardens again, her chin lifting slightly. "I will NOT send our forces until they are fully ready. If you are dissatisfied with the response times of the generals and thaumaturgists, then perhaps the ones who trained them for this moment need to be addressed."


Orm's eyes narrow, but … honestly he'd had the same thought as her so cannot in good faith argue his point. "You misunderstand me, I do not question your willingness to go to war Mera, you forget, I know of Xebel, squeamishness isn't in you. But there are other attacks we could employ to our advantage ahead of time, things we could do to disrupt their attempts at unifying a front. You have not begun preparations for them. We can destroy much without losing a single Atlantean life, they are so arrogant they have never considered us a threat, they haven't even basic defenses in place. Namor, fool that he is, has reeked havok with them for months and they've yet to so much as slow him down! And he's an outcast with a handful of madmen in outdated ships with outdated technologies. We can cripple them, sew fear into the hearts of their warriors. Perhaps not break them, but we can crack their resolve before the offensive begins in earnest. And yet here you sit upon your husband's throne waiting. Patiently. What for I ask? Someone else to do what needs doing?" it's been two days and she's heard something similar said twice, though Orm is the first one honest enough to say it to her face. Everyone else whispers behind her back. Say what you want about him, but he calls it like he sees it.


Mera glares at Orm, but knows better than to start a shouting match with the man. "Then bring me recommendations of ways to cripple the Surfacers while our forces continue to prepare. It is short-sighted of you to come in here and toss accusations at me without bringing me some way to do exactly what you are suggesting. Until then, I WILL sit here. 'Patiently'." And to prove that point, she turns and walks back toward the throne, where she has every intention of sitting and DARING Orm to push her further.


Orm's lips turn upwards, "I'm glad you agree." a wave of his trident summons holographic plans clearly already in place, "My brother and I have prepared well for this day. The plans are already in place, penned by Arthur's own hand." Orm says almost happily, "We will cripple their shipping lanes, hobble their intercontinental communications, we will take from them that which they love doing most. Talking. Endlessly." he makes a disgusted noise, "Their economic markets will falter and their greed will cause them to panic. Fear will begin cracking the foundation of their resolve before they ever see our Dreadnaughts."


Mera looks at the plans detailed on the holographic displays while Orm explains. It REALLY helps that the idea apparently had Arthur's input on it originally. "Why did you not present this to me sooner, Orm? Take those you trust to complete this plan without fail. Do it." Her eyes are still on the holographic plans.


Orm eyes her, "Because I was seeing to the coordination of the beginning of the war." he says simply, "And you are seeing them now." he nods his approval of her immediate agreement to the plan, "The rest of the plans for an invasion are in the file. We wrote them long ago, before you met him. I suppose his idealism led him to hope they would never be needed…" Orm's tone suggests he was never that optimistic. The plans call for a great many things, differing levels of aggression. All out war, a full scale war, would devastate the surface world almost in it's entirety, Atlantis would suffer nearly as greatly by the calculations of projected losses. The last update to the file was less then a month prior, adding in new information upon the priority of certain superhuman targets. There is even an entire section on Namor, both plans to ally and to end him, just in case. Arthur was… thorough. It's a dark look into his mind, into what he feared could be. The plans title is in some ancient surface tongue, the Atlantean translation is offered below it, 'Want for peace, prepare for war.'.

Orm turns and heads for the throne room exit, pausing at the doors, "Sister," he says softly, "I am sorry for what has happened. You will need to rest, and soon. By the end of the week the war will begin and Atlantis will need her Queen more then ever." and then he slips out closing the door behind him with a soft echoy 'boom'.


Mera sighs and slumps a bit as soon as the door is fully closed. She can't even fathom trying to sleep right now. She knows Orm is correct, that she needs to rest, but she just can't make herself return to the rooms she shared with Arthur. It would make his loss real. Maybe if she stays here a little longer.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License