Post by Namor on Jul 4, 2008 8:26:41 GMT -5
Namor McKenzie
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Cannon or your own: Canon
Copyright (Marvel/DC/ect): Marvel
Characters civilian name: Namor McKenzie
Code names/Aliases: The Sub-Mariner, the Avenging Son of Atlantis
Class: Superhero (though many would disagree)
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Gender: Male
Age: Ninety (Born 22/2/1922)
Apparent Age: Late twenties-early thirties
Hair: Black
Eyes: Grey
Height and weight: 6’2” 178lbs
Appearance: Namor is neither Human nor Atlantian, but both and greater than the sum of his parts. He is a mass of powerful muscle, tall and broad shoulders, without a spare ounce of fat on him. Indeed his tanned body is toned to the extent that it seems almost unnatural, truly matched only in the world of sculpture. He has a chiselled draw you could crack rocks on, he has what many on the surface have called the look of the eagles, his grey eyes always seem sharp and focused on whoever or whatever he is dealing with. He keeps his hair short and tamed and his eyebrows are thin and add to his already regal baring. His eyes are grey like a storm wracked sea, always focused always intense. Oh and then there are his pointed ears and wings, just above his ankles they flick and flutter as he walks or flies, but are thrust back and out as he propels himself through the water acting as well fins to steer him at phenomenal speeds.
As for clothes while once he wore only a pair of green scale-mail trunks to protect his ‘vital organs’ however as he has grown closer to the surface world he has gradually changed and evolved his costume. Notably to enable him to stay hydrated above the surface. While around his home he will usually wear loose open robes of inimitable quality as befit’s the rank of a Prince of Atlantis. In battle for the moment he usually wears the black and gold costume pictured below. Though often without the top.
Picture :
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Super Powers: An extremely rare creatures is the Sub-Mariner, his combined human and Atlantian is just the beginning; his father was positive for the X-factor gene which has only added to the genetic complexity which make Namor a truly unique creature.
To begin with he is fully amphibious, able to survive indefinably both on the surface and beneath the waves. Likewise he is adapted for the harsh conditions on the sea floor from the fantastically cold temperatures and incredibly high pressures as well as being able to move through water with phenomenal speed. He is also able to see even in the murky depths of the seabed, thus easily at night on the surface world as well, he is also able to feel and sense vibrations and movements in the are around him he has been able to sense the rate of a heartbeat across a room; this is far more effective underwater. In addition the wings on his feet allow him to fly at tremendous speeds.
Perhaps his most obvious power is his titanic strength, when fresh from the sea he is a peer of Wonder Woman able to lift literally thousands of tons; though this gradually decreases; see below.
His durability is also great; he has swum strait through blasts of Iron Man’s weaponry, taken punches from an enraged Hulk and even survived a fall from orbit undergoing all the stresses and pains on re-entry. Though in that last case he was lucky enough to land in the sea. Indeed submerging himself in water; particularly salt water fully regenerates Namor and restores his powers. While underwater he heals constantly.
As for super-speed, Namor can run faster than any human athlete, due to the immense power within his muscles, as fast as 50-60 mph under water and in the air however he is even faster; as fast as 200mph, though for extremely short periods he can exceed even these great speeds. How this works exactly is as complex and perplexing as many mutant powers, the highest probability is that he has a form of extremely crude but powerful telekinesis and his ankle wings are used for steering. Though his ability to fly at all is extremely hampered if they are wounded or damaged. His Reflexes too are remarkably sharp; greater than any human athlete.
His stamina is also remarkable able to function at peak capacity for as long as twenty four hours before he begins to tire. His age is also a factor; he barely seems to have aged since world war two and while the average lifespan of a normal Atlantian is 120 years with Namor’s unique nature who knows how long he could live?
Learned Abilities: Namor is an expert combatant with decades of experience both armed and unarmed, he prefers to fight unarmed but if armed he prefers the Trident as weapon of choice. His skills are near peerless particularly in the water.
He is also extremely knowledgeable of Atlantian technology, particularly where it pertains to warfare which is in itself far ahead of most surface world technology. Proving to be capable of adopting adapting and improving technology to suit his needs; though he vastly prefers to solve his problems with his bare hands.
Namor is multi-lingual speaking fluently most of the languages on the earth.
Over the course of his long and active life he has also grown to be a skilled (if arrogant and demanding) diplomat, a tactician on a par with Captain America and almost by accident has developed a great skill with business dealings and a good deal of magical knowledge for a layman.
Equipment: Though he does not carry any of these Items with him Namor has the following secreted away where only he can obtain them (or so he thinks).
The Horn of Proteus; this grants the wielder to summon and control over the ‘monsters’ of the deep sea such as Giganto.
Neptune’s Trident; a gift to an ancient Atlantian Emperor from the God himself, crafted of Adamantine and a copy of the god’s own weapon. It is light, incredibly durable, razor-sharp and perfectly balanced. It grant’s the wielder a great degree of control over surrounding water, blasts of water strong enough to crumple battleship armour, create simple constructs, speed the passage of a vessel, create massive waves, create banks of fog and part waterfalls. Though it will never work as more than a lump of metal for someone who have offended Neptune or against the Olympian gods. He rarely uses this however mostly due to the reverence with which he holds for the artefact.
Weaknesses: The longer he is out of water the weaker the Prince of Atlantis becomes, after about eight hours his strength drops to around sixty tons and after a week the lack of water will prove fatal. In addition polluted water can mess with his physiology in the same way toxic gasses would a human. Heat based attacks can also cause the above dehydration process to happen far, far faster.
Sue and Johnny Storm; Sue Namor feels an unfailing infatuation for while Johnny helped to restore his mind. For either of them Namor would do near anything; though Johnny at least doesn’t realise the extent to which Namor feel’s he owes him.
His main weaknesses however are psychological, he has to say the least a short fuse, little patience for being given orders; particularly if they are not explained if not immediately clear. He despises elements of democracy; most notably the committee and would rather follow another leader than be in a team that wastes time debating and voting on an issue.
Background: Born the son of Leonard McKenzie a British Icebreaker captain and dashingly handsome explorer and Princess Fen of Atlantis, daughter of the then King Thakorr. After they had a single nights tryst when she had been sent to investigate this vessel apparently trapped above Atlantis. When she didn’t return that night her father sent General Krang with a company to ‘rescue’ his daughter. Kang did this though the time practiced method of killing every none Atlantian aboard.
Despite her protests Namor’s father died in front of his mother by the swords of her would be saviours. Little realising she was carrying the man’s unborn baby. Raised amongst the cut and thrust politicking of the Atlantian court; like all Royal Princes destined for a life in the military. But Namor was not like all Atlantian princes; he was a half-breed and a bastard and he was treated accordingly. Life was hard, on the surface he was treated like any other prince, trained in combat, strategy and etiquette, but at royal feasts he was relegated to lowly tables, he was always used as the example in the combat training and so on. But being the bastard son of a disgraced princess forged Namor, made him what he is today, making him self reliant, making him train harder, study harder and ultimately be better. As he grew through adolescence the contempt of the well bred aristocracy was forced into a grudging respect, though the young prince cared little; the centuries old and carefully refined training of the Atlantian court left him with a deeply ingrained national pride and love of ‘his people ’ but Namor was now and forever the individual.
Through the thirties and early forties Namor fought for his people against their undersea enemies earning the respect of the military, particularly as his superior physiology and the X-factor within his DVA exerted itself. Granting him superior strength, agility, speed and flight making him an invaluable asset in the constant skirmishing beneath the sea.
In the spring of 1943 however a squadron of German U-boats, not even knowing who or even what they were attacking, destroyed an Atlantian outpost in the Mediterranean thinking it a secret Allied navel base. There was an intense debate across the court; all agreed that these impudent surfacers should be annihilated; but how to do so was in great debate. Some suggested they should go to all out war, while others argued against this as they would have to unveil themselves from long secrecy from the surface world. In the end a compromise was reached; they should send a champion one who could ensure the correct outcome was reached in this scuffle of savage tribes above.
In the end there was only one choice, Namor, into his twenties and already a well respected champion and warrior, that combined with his amphibious abilities made him the perfect choice. Behind closed doors however there were secret hopes that this ill-bred freak would die before the crude armaments of the surfacers. All this politicking was lost on the impetuous young warrior, who obediently went off to war.
There was surprise to say the least when Namor burst from the waves in a battle between British and American Q-ships and German U-boats, tearing through the Nazi vessels like a hot knife through butter. When the battle was over he landed on the largest of the allied vessels with a thump, salt water running off his body, Nazi flag dangling limply in his clenched fist and requested in butchered English if the sailors were the enemies of those who fought beneath this banner. When a braver second mate offered a somewhat belated yes Namor smiled clasped hands with the man and the Avenging Son of Atlantis joined the war.
The War was the time when Namor became known in the news reels particularly after he helped Captain America save Winston Churchill and joined the team which the British PM named the Invaders. They battled together against enemies on all fronts, but when Hitler was dead, the war over and his people avenged Namor returned to the seas once more and to the eternal task of defending and championing his people.
All went well till he faced the new champion of the Lemurians; Paul Destine, a massively powerful telepath going by the name of Destiny. Namor dutifully faced their champion in single combat as the Lemurian army and their allies massed beyond the Atlantian boarders. Namor was, for the first time in his life truly and abjectly humbled by the might of the Lemurian champion. Who turned the now controlled Namor loose on his own people. Destroying their city and killing his mother and grandfather, though the majority of the population escaped. After which Destiny ‘broke’ the Atlantian’s mind leaving him a broken and destitute bum on the streets of New York.
Only when a young Johnny Storm spotted a hobo using apparent super strength, shaved him with his living flame; recognising his face from the old news reels of the Invaders he tossed Namor into the Hudson. After an instant of spluttering Namor burst from the sea’s once more as he had done back in the forties, retuned once more to his true glory muscles glistening and eyes burning with a decade of repressed hatred. He returned with the Human Torch to the Baxter building only to meet Sue Storm for the first time beginning an infatuation with continues to this day.
But the Atlantians had found a new champion and a new king for their new capital of Poseidononis, Orin, Arthur Curry and known as Aquaman. For one once nicknamed the Sub-mariner by the U.S. Navy Namor had no mockery for the pseudonym. At first they became rivals, but while Namor was still long the outcast and half-breed bastard son this new ‘Aquaman’ was embraced as the next new thing. Namor regarded that at first as the discrimination of mutants and tried to hate this new Orin.
But he could not, he found that this Arthur was a man of honour and a fellow sufferer of the rigours of Atlantian society. Also while Namor was, bastard that he was, the eternal prince; only holding his grandfather war-cry because no one dared take it from him, on the other hand Arthur had a valid place in the line of succession. From here Namor joined the surfacers once more, fighting beside the Avengers, the Fantastic Four and the non-team of the Defenders but also alongside the Mutant leaders Charles Xavier and Magneto and the (in Namor’s opinion) much vilified Victor Von Doom, protecting the planet in his own unique way both above and below the surface and indeed the whole universe on some of the more surreal Defenders missions.
When the war came Namor joined his ‘fellow heroes’ in the Untouchables, he fought long and hard, throwing himself into this conflict with the same ceaseless, ferocious abandon with which he had engaged in the Second World War. This proved to be a mistake, the level of pollution in the sea rose and Atlantians died by the shear earth shaking scale of the conflict above. Namor was damned by association, a suitable scapegoat for an unpopular war. The eternal and continuous maelstrom of forces behind Atlantian politics played on and they finally got their wish. Namor was proclaimed the perfect choice for ambassador to the US, the prime surviving nation on the surface world, though in truth he was effectively exiled from the undersea lands where he was once held as a champion.
Now Namor broods on the Atlantian Embassy which covers Governors Island in Hudson bay doing his best to protect Atlantian and environmental interests. Finally bitter and distrustful of even his own people Namor looks with fierce and relentless eyes out on the world and looks for a way to ‘fix’ it.
Personality : Namor is above all else an individual, he has taught himself from a young age to be self reliant, to depend upon no one. Secondly while he is a man of honour he also believes, just as he was taught that ‘Nothing done in the name of the Atlantian Empire can be considered treachery’. In other word the ends justify the means, always. He trusts surface dwellers as a group considerably less far than he can throw them, considering them primitive savages only a few years out of the caves and a few months since they stopped throwing excrement at one another. These two factors make him an extremely difficult person for anyone to get to know. Namor is much like the ocean himself in that respect, even those who have known him for years have little true idea what lurks below the surface.
Also in response to his, to say the least difficult upbringing he has developed a degree of personal pride normally reserved for entire nations. Added to this saying that Namor has a temper is like saying Superman is Strong or that the Flash is fast. These two combined with his stiff, regal bearing, distain for cowardice or personal weakness and general dislike for surfacers and their culture make him seem almost like a villain or at least not the hero which many in society seem to regard him as. But these are countered by his sense of personal honour, though it is different from how many in the surface world regard it. He will always pay his debts, return a favour for good or ill and always come when a friend (or as close to it as any get) is in need. He is willing to go further than almost any other hero in his personal pursuit of what is right.
Other:
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Brief Sample Roleplay
The shocks ripped through the body of the Sub-Mariner, dozens of tasers dug their adamantium hooks into his bare flesh, he roared and struggled but apparently the great web of wires were to multitudinous, the teams of armoured men who held their other ends to much even for the strength of the mighty Avenging Son of Atlantis. But as one would expect this apparently overwhelming force didn’t’t stop the struggles of mighty mutant. Falling to his knees at the edge of the oil rig, the wires were looped into pulleys and tightened as the master of this artificial island approached.
“See how the mighty have fallen.” The throaty inhuman chuckle rolled out of the ruined throat of the Red Skull. “Tell me Herr Namor did you really believe the powers of a disgusting cross-breed freak would be enough to overcome the might of the pure forces of my loyal new Reich?” The former right hand of Hitler gave the barest hint of a gesture and the new Master Man strode forward cracking the former Invader across the jaw with enough force to knock a mortal man’s head clean off.
Namor spat out onto the deck of the rig, a liberal serving of his own blood into the mix and flexed in his bindings before looking up and smiling.
“I must admit I had every confidence I could crush your unwashed rabble of barbarian surfacers. With my… how did you say it? Cross-bred freakish powers.” His tormenter growled before raising a leather gloved hand, his first two fingers extended, slashing them down the anger clear in his gesture.
“Again.” Apparently neither Master Man nor the crews on the meta-human taser wires knew to whom their master was speaking. Tens of thousands of volts slammed into the Prince’s body as the superhuman thug began to lay into his face once more. Finally the torment ceased as the Red Skull raised his hand once more.
“Well you have been proved to be quite mistaken freak, still you shall provide a useful test subject for our latest weaponry. Know this” The Skull’s voice grew louder raising his gloved fist to the sky. “That from now till your last breath you shall serve the new Reich even if only as a lab rat.” He looked down once again grinning his deaths head, psychotic grin.
Namor spat once more, there was more blood this time, bruises surrounded his face and burns formed where the skein of electrified wires had their hooks into his flesh. But now he was smiling, almost smirking as he hauled himself to his feet, his near black blood already clotting around the hooks.
“Now if perhaps you will allow me to finish, I had every confidence I could crush your unwashed rabble however…” he paused for just a moment as his smile broadened into a full and terrifying grin. High above there was a noise like thunder and suddenly bursting out of a green portal in the sky was a great metal sky ship with no apparent means of propulsion. “That would hardly be fair on the so very many you and your ilk have wronged.” Two figures begin to descend from the vessel from the ship, one simply descending as if he has commanded to change in accordance with his whims, the other on a translucent crackling platform of green energy.
“Now Skull I wish to introduce, Dr. Victor Von Doom King of Latveria and Magneto revolutionary leader of the Brotherhood I believe that I have not been the only suggested lab rat of the three of us. We merely needed to confirm you were indeed here. Now… where was I.” Namor flexed once more.
“Hit him again full power!” The Red Skull almost wailed as he scrabbled for the helipad, a gesture from the Master of Magnetism tied the blades of the copter into a neat bow. Namor twitched in the bonds as the wires burst with life again, Master Man reeled back for another punch, only to find his hand caught by his intended target. Namor squeezed and the Aryan thug grimaced as he was forced to his knees.
“No one chains a prince of Atlantis,” all humour was gone from the Sub-Mariners voice as he threw up his arms, with a furious, roar “Imperious Rex!”
Tearing the guns from the hands of his would be captors, those who held on were hurled into the air even as Namor tore free those hooks which had not fallen loose on their own. Watching as his allies destroyed the scattering surfacer soldiers. This had been a good day.
