xp_logs | Nathan and Angelo, Friday morning

Nathan and Angelo kill some time. A few different angles of the current crisis are discussed. (OOC: Set before Nathan saw Pete's email.

They weren't precisely authentic, but the weapons maker Nathan had found in New York last year had been a broad-minded sort, and able to adapt a standard design to something closer to what the Askani had used.

He and Angelo hadn't had nearly enough time to do this lately. Which was a pity, because Angelo enjoyed it as much as he did - and maybe more, given that the not-quite-a-psimitar gave him some added reach.

Angelo grinned as he swung the glaive in a practiced motion, not aiming it at Nathan yet, just warming up. "Missed doin' this", he said casually.

They were wearing at least partial protective gear; Moira had caught them doing this without anything once, and given them both a fearful tongue-lashing. Nathan had since decided she'd just been overprotective given his record for concussions.

"Too much time behind our desks," he said. Work wasn't working as a refuge this week, at least not since he'd recognized the origin of those notes.

"Somethin' like that. Still, we normally manage an hour a week... guess life's just been blowin' up on us more than usual lately."

"Imagine that. Life blowing up, on us of all people." Nathan smiled briefly, somewhat absently, and walked out to the center of the mats, shifting his weapon into a guard position. Despite its resemblance to a historical polearm or halberd, the fighting style was markedly different.

"Yeah, yeah. That's why I said more than usual." Straightening from another swing of the pole, he moved to join Nathan on the mats.

There was no real practical value to this. For the Askani, it had been a stylized thing, not so much a sport as an art. But it was good exercise, and beautiful, and strangely soothing in the way that it echoed even the meditative patterns. And he needed that, this week, Nathan reflected as he and Angelo stepped forward and engaged. The wooden clatter of staff on staff, the occasional metallic scrape of the unsharpened blades filled the otherwise silent gym.

Angelo wasn't speaking. He never did, during these bouts, focused entirely on the patterns of the staffs and blocking Nathan's moves. There was a reason he'd always taken to the more meditative of martial arts and practices.

Angelo was right; they'd been neglecting this. Nathan winced a bit as he blocked one of Angelo's strike and the shock traveled up the arm that had been dislocated in Mexico. Still a little weaker than it should be.

Angelo knew better than to interrupt one of their bouts or otherwise imply that Nathan wasn't physically fit for it unless it was very, very obvious that he wasn't. Still, he made note of the wince for later.

His own crack about too much time behind the desk bore true fifteen minutes later when he started wearing down. Breathing hard, he backed off a step, his eyes narrowing - and then lashed out, seeing the opening and knocking Angelo's weapon from his hands.

"Watch your transitions," he said. "You still leave a hole when you move from one pattern to the next." He managed to get that out without having to stop for breath, but only just. Nathan leaned over, one hand resting on his leg as if to brace himself and the butt of the staff planted firmly on the mats. "Gah. Too old for this."

He nodded, taking the advice for later consideration. "You okay? It's not that long since we got to do this. An' I know I got your shoulder there."

Nathan made a face at him and straightened, still breathing hard. "Haven't been sleeping well," he said, turning to go over to where he'd left his water bottle.

Angelo watched him without moving from his spot. "...yeah, me either", he said quietly. "Think a lot of people are havin' that problem this week."

Nathan leaned his weapon against the wall and sat down on the bench, sagging a little. He took a long sip from his water before he responded. "Seems strange to be... well, I guess we're not carrying on as usual, but this semblance of normality crap is for the birds."

"We've got to do somethin'", Angelo said, wandering over to sit next to him. "Doesn't do the kids any more favours to grind to a halt than it would to pretend nothin' was wrong."

"It's not just the kids. Moira-" No, Angelo didn't need to know what was going through Moira's mind. "Ray has no clue what's going on. I half-wish Moira had left her with Billie and Anna in Scotland." Only he didn't. Not really. Not when it was entirely possible that Rory had just taken Jennie and Marius and Kyle because he couldn't get at Rachel, or Moira herself. No, he wanted them both where he could see them.

"She's safer here", Angelo said with a nod. "Not to say Billie an' Anna wouldn't do everythin' they could, but..." He trailed off there, not wanting to follow that thought to its conclusion. "If you want me to take her for a few hours, I will, but I don't know if it'd make anythin' much better."

"She's been kind of clingy with her mother. I think she's-" Nathan cut himself off, again. "If she doesn't throw a temper tantrum, yes, that might be worth trying. I was thinking of asking Rahne to try, too." He liked the idea of Rahne in wolf-form, watching Rachel. He didn't have a doubt in his mind that there'd be biting, if anyone showed up looking to cause a problem.

"You just ask if you want me to", Angelo told him, leaning his head back against the wall. The distraction of a toddler to care for, even a sulky and confused and miserable one, would be a welcome one for him too.

"At least when she's demanding attention you can keep yourself busy giving it to her," Nathan muttered, unknowingly echoing Angelo's thoughts.

"Yeah. I've... we've been tryin', this week... tryin' to give the kids other things to focus on. Not sure how well it's workin', but we have to try. Rachel's a bit too young for laser tag, but maybe I can think of somethin' for her."

Nathan took another sip of his water. His heartrate was slowing back down again, thankfully. You probably needed the exercise. "I've been...." Well, what had he accomplished this week? Not much. "When we get them back," he said somewhat wearily, "Jean and Charles and I need to put our heads together. Figure out ways to deal with psi-blockers, and shielding..." It had to be what was keeping Charles from finding the kids. "I keep thinking, it's all in the patterns..." He waved a hand at the weapon leaning against the wall, wincing again as his shoulder twinged.

Angelo smiled faintly. "Might be onto somethin' there. Pretty safe bet no one who's ever made a psi-blocker, or got the power to do it - except Forge an' maybe one or two others - knows anythin' about the Askani."

"I'm sick of the weak-minded hiding behind their technology." There was an alarming level of loathing just beneath the surface of Nathan's tired-sounding voice.

Angelo glanced sideways at him, but didn't say anything. He couldn't think of anything to say... it wasn't as if he didn't want half an hour alone in a room with his staff and whoever had taken the kids just as much.

"I broke the Box once," Nathan said, remembering the walls of the psi-proof room turning to glass as Askani poured down their link and into his mind. "Bears thinking on, anyway." He put the topic out of his mind. There was nothing to be done about it now.

"Right", Angelo said, looking back at the ceiling. "When we find them." Not if. There was no if.