Tournament of Marvels: Namor vs The Thing

[Gordy]

Main Thread

This is the Battle of the Brave, the Brawl of the Best, the Clash of the Titans. This is the Tournament of Marvels.

The tournament is considered by many to be the superhero equivalent of the Olympics; the ultimate test of power, skill and talent for anyone willing to compete. Anyone is free to enter, but very few make it past the preliminaries. Even fewer, who make up the best of the best, can go even further.

Hosted in Latveria, hundreds, if not thousands of people had come to the newly-created pop-up arena, the Closed Circle, to witness a clash of power between two titans. Today, four different duels would take place. Eight competitors would battle it out try and reach the semi-finals of the Tournament of Marvels.

The fourth round's titans were Namor McKenzie and the Thing. The King of Atlantis and a hero of many teams, including the Fantastic Four. The two had crossed paths many times - sometimes as enemies, sometimes as allies. To say that the two had a complex history would be an understatement. While the two were powerful gladiators, the sheer magnitude of the drama would surely be a big fight. Two of the most well-known competitors, each with entire sections of cheering fans and furious haters.

Given the two had penchant for destruction, things would be a little different this fight. For this round, a seven foot-deep moat separated the field from the stands, encircling the opponents. Oxygen tanks and masks were placed in each of the field's four corners, should things get a little too suffocating for either competitor. 

How would this match go down? Brawl to the finish? A battle of wits and intrigue? Rock-paper-scissors? Only the competitors would decide how this played out. Let's hope that, whatever they have in mind, it's going to be the biggest spectacle Latveria has ever seen since last week, when their loving dictator clashed his enemies.

A male announcer's voice echoed through the stadium: "Namor vs Thing! Would both competitors PUH-lease make it to the field! It's time for bloodshed!"

[zania]

And fathom that distance, the mad must reap
Meet Namor sea lord, Prince of the deep
Here for you to fear at any cost

---

Tournaments such as this was nothing new to the King of Atlantis. He regularly engaged in tournaments among the Atlanteans in order to validate his position as king . . . by being the strongest among them, the most skilled and the most able fighter. He often relished in the roar that arose from his subjects once he had successfully vanquished the challengers and proved his mettle yet again.

Stepping out into the middle of the arena with Neptune's trident in hand, the cheers from the crowd was no different. They came to witness a battle, and a battle they would get. In fact, the roar from the crowd invigorated him as he prepared for his first battle in this tournament.

His challenger, based on the announcement, was the illustrious Benjamin Grimm, better known as the Thing. The two of them had often been pitted as rivals since he had first crossed paths with the Fantastic Four. On occasion, they served as allies, each bearing a grudging respect toward the other even if they did not share a close comradery compared to others.

For now, all he could do was wait for his opponent to see who would ultimately emerge victorious.

---

Tellin you to get busy or you better get lost

[Rift]

Ben Grimm was backstage, eagerly awaiting the next round. He'd heard about the tournament and was uninterested until he found out where it was going to be hosted. Dictators like Doom often put on spectacles for the masses, to distract people from how big of tyrants they really were, but Doom was not like other lunatic leaders. No, Victor had to have a reason for this. Maybe he was looking for soldiers for his latest world domination scheme or perhaps he just wanted to scan the weaknesses of potential enemies or rivals. Didn't matter what the purpose, if the tinplated tyrant was involved there was bound to be something sinister afoot. Sadly, others didn't agree with him. He'd only recently started to mend fences with Reed and he'd never approve of him willingly heading to Latveria. His allies at S.H.I.E.L.D refused to officially sanction a mission, undercover or otherwise, for fear of angering Doom and upsetting international relations. So with no backing he decided to enter the tournament himself, just to keep an eye on things. If it all checked out then so be it and if it didn't then at least someone was in position to give Victor a black eye.

Despite his self-imposed mission he couldn't help but feel excited. One way or another he'd been scrapping with people almost his whole life. Whether it was street toughs in his youth back on Yancy Street or with cosmic conquerors among the stars he'd picked up a set of skills that let him brawl with the best of them. Pitting those skills against others without it being life or death for the planet was a nice change. Besides, this was almost like pro-wrestling to some degree, a sport he loved. Putting on a show while irking Doom by his very presence would be icing on the cake.

When the announcer began to call out names he cracked his knuckles and headed to the gorilla position, smiling all the way. This was gonna be fun and hopefully more of a challenge than the last couple matches had been. Maybe, just maybe he'd get to make Doom fume a bit as he saw his hated enemy rise through the ranks.

That was when he realized who his opponent was. The Submariner himself, a guy that Ben had more than a little history with both as foe and ally. As the music he chose for an entrance theme began to boom he headed out, neck cracking, and wondered if Doom himself hand chose the leader of Atlantis as his rival for this bout. After all he did seem to have an unhealthy admiration for the mutant and more than a little disdain for Grimm himself.

Walking into the arena he was bobbing and weaving a bit like a boxer as he made his entrance, stopping long enough to raise a massive fist into the air eliciting cheers from the crowd.

This ain't gonna be no walk in da park, but at least I can put on a show, he thought.

As the music died down he gave a mock salute to Namor.

"Heya shiny shorts. Didn't expect to see youse here. Figured you'd be off brooding somewhere, pining over Susie Q, or posing for some sort of paintin' Doomsie likes so much. You do know what's about to happen here right? Bygones are bygones and all that, but you step into the ring with the Ever Lovin' Blue-Eyed Thing and you are crusin' for a bruisin' yer majesty. Ain't no shame is forfeiting, cause as one of the greats says to be da man, you got to beat the man and brother today is not the day that Aunt Petunia's favorite nephew goes down to wing shoes."

[zania]

And fathom that distance, the mad must reap
Meet Namor sea lord, Prince of the deep
Here for you to fear at any cost

---

As he stood in the arena, his opponent finally showed . . . a man whom he had fought with and against on several occasions. There definitely was no love lost between the two of them, although there was an underlying mutual respect even if begrudging in nature.

Benjamin Grimm decided to address the situation and offered him a chance to forfeit the fight. That caused the King of Atlantis to quirk an eyebrow, wondering if the suggestion was serious or not.

"Surely you jest," Namor stated, almost scoffing at that suggestion. "You should know that the Prince of the Blood regularly faces challenges in arenas such as this, and remains undefeated. If you choose not to battle, know that the ruler of the seven seas would not look unfavorably on you. But, if you decide to engage in combat this day, quarter will not be given and you shall be the one . . . as you say . . . crusin' for a bruisin'. The choice is yours, Benjamin Grimm."

---

Tellin you to get busy or you better get lost

[Rift]

Ben gave a small chuckle. Namor was always gonna be Namor whether it was on the battlefield, in a supervillain's secret lair, or in an arena full of fans. Sometimes that smugness made him want to smack the taste out of his mouth, but he had to give it to him for being consistent.

"Awfully kind of ya there fish sticks, but you and I've been around the block a time or two and you have to know that I don't give up and I ain't known for backing down. Especially not with that tin plated dictator eyeballin' this whole contest. 'Sides, you gotta admit we've always been stopped from really brawling thanks to Reed and Susie, but they ain't here. Dont'cha think it's about time we settle this and see who is the real deal? I know I do. Guess what I'm sayin' is IT'S CLOBBERING TIME!"

As the crowd cheered, Thing charged forward almost as he would have done in his football days, hoping to shoulder check Namor. It was a maneuver that could easily be avoided, but like the opening moves of a dance, it was only the start and designed to see exactly how serious his opponent was going to take the contest. Knowing Namor, who didn't have a funny bone in his body, he'd make it about as life and death as he did everything else.

[zania]

And fathom that distance, the mad must reap
Meet Namor sea lord, Prince of the deep
Here for you to fear at any cost

---

The King of Atlantis listened as Benjamin Grimm decided to pass on his offer before reminding him that the only time that the two of them really stopped fighting was when Susan Storm or Reed Richards put an end to their tussles. That was only partially true, as there were other times where there was a definitive victor. But, he was willing to settle this here and now.

"So be it, Benjamin Grimm. No quarter shall be given, but do not forget that I was the one that offered you a chance to forgo the combat we are about to engage in," Namor told him firmly.

Throughout all of this, he had inched his way closer toward the wall in an almost circling motion . . . slight, but subtle to where it would be almost imperceptible. That was done on purpose as he had already developed the strategy for the opening salvo. Fortunately for him, the Thing was playing right into his hand.

The Thing started to charge toward him, but it was just what the King of the Seven Seas anticipated. He stood firm until the last possible moment. Once he was satisfied that Benjamin had built up enough momentum and couldn't arrest his forward movement in time, he took to the air in such a way to where he could not be grabbed . . . hopefully allowing the Thing to crash into the arena wall.

"That, Benjamin, is the literal meaning of using your head," he stated with a smug smile. If that was successful, he would then try to dive at the Thing with his feet first, hoping to land another blow to the back of his head that would hopefully drive him into the ground.

---

Tellin you to get busy or you better get lost

[Rift]

Ben saw what Namor was doing, but too late. His momentum carried him right past the Submariner and into the wall. Luckily, he lifted his head and shifted his weight as best he could to one side, slamming shoulder first into the wall hard enough to cause micro-cracks in the material.

Yeesh. Old Doomsie really builds stuff to last, I'll give 'em that much, he thought, thankful for the reinforced wall.

Turning he batted away the incoming kick, the force merely enough to block Namor from driving him further downwards.

Readjusting he popped his neck and aimed a punch towards Namor's head. It wasn't a strong hit, not like he could do, but a little jab that could easily be avoided. Almost falling for such an easy trick reminded Ben that he had to play it cool and slow and there was no better way to do that than to fall back on his boxing training.

Hit, duck, weave, and jab again. Keep it going Benji. Gonna have to be a fight of attrition as Stretch would say. Long as I don't let my temper get the betta of me and I can avoid going into the drink where he's got the upper hand, I can do this.

"Heh, not too shabby for a water elf. Where'd you learn that one? Flipper teach ya?"

[zania]

And fathom that distance, the mad must reap
Meet Namor sea lord, Prince of the deep
Here for you to fear at any cost

---

The King of Atlantis' initial move was highly successful, but his attempt for a follow up was immediately batted away by the Thing. The comment that he had made was clearly an attempt to goad the sovereign, but thankfully Namor restrained himself.

In Atlantis, there were regular tournaments such as this, which allowed Namor to hone his skills and develop tactics that often allowed him to prevail . . . and without using his immense strength. This potentially could lead to a huge advantage if he could bide his time and utilize all of that experience in this situation.

All the while, his keen eyes searched for potential sources of water. One splash would be more than sufficient to help him renew his strength and provide him with a distinct advantage. Not that he needed it as he still possessed considerable strength as it was, but his strength during prolonged time out of the water was not the same compared to after he was exposed to the life giving liquid.

"It appears that we may be evenly matched with strength, Benjamin. The victor will likely be determined by not only our skill, but our tactics," he noted, his voice conveying an air of respect.

---

Tellin you to get busy or you better get lost