2011 03 13 How Namor Got His Groove Back

Log Title:
How Namor got his groove back

Namor, Mr. Fantastic,

RL Date:

IC Date:

Fantastic 4 HQ

Brief log summary::
Mr. Fantastic heals Namor's wings


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-==[ Fantastic 4 HQ - 33rd Floor - New York City ]==----

This entire floor of the Baxter Building is taken up by Reed's assortment of sprawling laboratories. The labs are subdivided into nine seperate sections, each square, forming one large square. The walls stop a few feet short of the ceiling to allow for suction to a massive central vent designed for emergencies. All of the dividing walls are also capable of sealing themselves, however, in order to isolate any given portion of the lab in an emergency. The nine sections are biology, chemistry, microengineering, macroengineering, weaponry, Doom's time machine, the Microverse transport, the Negative Zone portal, and special projects. Each section contains relevant equipment of Reed Richards' own design and crafting, far past the current state of the art in every field, as well as relevant security and cleanup elements.

Mr Fantastic
Obvious Exits:
[EL] - Fantastic 4 HQ - Private Eleva

As usual, Reed is wrapped up in some work. But as Namor enters, he looks away from the computer screen and gives the man his full attention; general politeness demands such, much less the Prince of Atlantis. "I have been working on your problem, Namor. And I think I do have a solution, although it is not without risk." He stands up and leads Namor over to a circular tank large enough to hold a couple men. "I creted this device on one of my attempts to restore Ben back to his human form. It invovles using a previous sample of DNA as a blueprint to allow the chemicals in the tank to revert the subject back to. In Ben's case, there was jsut too much to change. With you, however, the restoration is much smaller and should work. However, I cannot guarantee that it will."

Namor walks over to the tank, rubbing his chin in thought. "But it MIGHT work…and nothing else has as yet." He takes a slow half-circuit around the tank, examining it from different angles. Finally he turns to Reed, seemingly satisfied. "I want to try it."

Mr Fantastic nods and goes over to a workbench. "I thought you might. So I came up with this…" He picks up a tubular colar with a mouthpiece and hands it to Namor. "This device is filled with purified sea water and will recyle through an internal filter enough to allow you to breath. The chemical bath isn't toxic, but it's not compatable with your resipratory system. The whole process should take an hour or so."

Namor examines the apparatus for a moment, then fits it over his mouth and neck. He adjusts it a few times and then finally starts breathing, experimentally. "Very well," he affirms. "I'm ready to begin."

Mr Fantastic goes over to a computer console near the tank. "We have an old blood sample of yours that we'll be using as the template. I made sure that it's free of any diseases or defects first. Climb in when you're ready, and try to relax. The whole process should take about an hour."

Namor climbs into the tank, then stands in the middle, legs wide apart and braced, arms crossed across his chest. He glances around for a clock, then fixates on it. He appears ready to stare at it for the entire hour.

The tank begins to fill with a cloudy fluid. It's lukewarm, but slightly uncomfortable becasue there's a slight coloidial texture, like the protective secretion on a fish. The tank does fill, though, and aparently Namor's density is enough to overcome any boyancy the fluid provides as he stays firmly standing on the base of the tank. Once the tank is filled, Reed, flips another switch and an electrical current is passed through the fluid, previding a tingling feeling all over Namor's body.

Namor gives a slight start at the electricty, more out of surprise than discomfort. He uncrosses his arms and holds one hand in front of his face, waving it through the chemical fluid. Then he tilts his head down to peer at his own feet - or more precisely, at his ankles. Finally he looks back at the clock again. One minute down, just 59 more to go…

The time ticks by at an almost agonizingly slow pace. At first, there's nothing. Then, perhaps there are buds starting to form on namor's ankles, but the cloudyness of the fluid makes it hard to tell. But after 30 minutes, there's no mistaking the small white wings that are growing. And by the time the hour is complete, the Scion of Atlantis has been restored.

Still in the tank, Namor crouches so that he can better see his returned wings. His expression is one of disbelief - for all his seeming confidence and for all of Reed's fame, maybe deep down Namor wasn't sure this would work. But the proof is there, extending from his ankles. Once the fluid has been drained, Namor's features set in concentration. Then he rises - only a few wobbly inches at first, then up and out of the tank. He sets down outside, close to where Reed stands. "It appears I am in your debt, Richards…"

Reed smiles as he approaches Namor. "Friends do not hold their freinds in debt. I will accept a 'thank you' as sufficient payment. Now, just go easy on the wings for a while. Those are brand new muscles and they need to be exercized first. Only ten minutes of flight a day for the frist week, and we'll see how things go from there."

Namor raises an eyebrow. "As you wish. You've been right about everything else thus far."

Mr Fantastic nods. "I know it's frustrating, but I'm sure you'd rather not tear the muscles from over exertion so soon after getting your wings back. Soon enuogh, you'll be back to full flight capabilities."

Namor looks towards the door, considering. He figures he has at least 9 minutes left for today…and he can hardly wait to get started. With one last nod at Reed, although Namor's mind is obviously already outside in the clouds above the Baxter Building, the Atlantean heads out.

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