xp_logs | Shinobi and Nathan, Thursday around lunchtime...

Nathan has a gift for Shinobi. Conversation results, until a third party decides to stick her nose in.

Nathan paused a few steps short of the kitchen door, trying to identify the presence within. It felt like Shinobi, he decided, although the mind he sensed wasn't quite as disciplined as it had been the other times he'd encountered it. Fatigue, Nathan assumed, which was perfectly understandable under the circumstances if this was Shinobi. Suicide watches were tiring things. He went to the door, nodding to himself as he saw the object of his search rooting through the refrigerator.

"Hey," he said by way of greeting, moving forward into the kitchen. Shinobi straightened, and Nathan smiled briefly. "I was looking for you, believe it or not."

Somehow, Shinobi managed not to jump at the new voice in the room, firmly stomping down his impulse to whip around and see who'd come in and surprised him. Instead, he drew in a deep breath, closing his eyes as he slowly straightened himself up, turning enough to look over his shoulder. "Oh. Hey, Nate." He mustered up a grin, glancing to the fridge again before giving up and closing the door empty-handed. "What's up?"

"Early Christmas present," Nathan said, raising the disc case he'd been carrying around for the last twenty minutes by way of explanation. "I didn't want to send it over email," he went on, moving further into the kitchen so that he could lean against the edge of the table. He'd just taken another dose of his meds, and he was feeling a little light-headed. "Encrypted it, too, although a good decryption program will handle it fine. I just didn't want to take any chances. The information involves one friend of mine and one friendly acquaintance I'd prefer not to piss off, so it warrants more care than that list I gave you."

Blinking twice, Shinobi brightened noticably at the older man's words, suddenly feeling a lot more rested than he actually was. "You've brought me something *good*? I swear, I could kiss you." He allowed himself a brief laugh, a grin splitting his face as he moved towards the table, eyeing the disc case curiously. "Moira and Sarah'd do bad things to me, though, so I'll refrain."

Nathan grinned wryly, oddly pleased at the idea of having improved the younger man's mood. "Yeah, we'll skip that," he said dryly, handing over the disc case. "That, just to summarize, is all the details I could remember concerning some of the various operations certain of my colleagues have run for your father over the years. Fourteen operations, to be precise." Shinobi took the disc, and Nathan went on, more seriously. "I included some material from other sources, as well. One--Tomas Ramirez, is an old, good friend of mine. Your father screwed him over in a way that makes what he had done to my friend look like schoolyard antics. Tomas let me pass the information along to you and also hinted that he would be delighted to offer his services, if asked. The other two--" Nathan paused, frowning a little. "I wouldn't try and contact Michael O'Hare; he didn't enjoy working for your father but he doesn't have an axe to grind. And Petra Bynam, for all the information she provided, is someone to stay away from. She's worked for your father several times, willingly, and the only reason she accomodated me on this is that she owed me and I threatened her."

"Fourteen--?" Shinobi blinked owlishly as he eyed the disc in his hand, shaking himself back to his senses so that he can actually pay attention to Nathan as he continues talking. "You're *thorough*," he said finally, a grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Just.. jeez. You're the best, mate. Let Mister Ramirez know that if something comes up that I can use help on, he's at the top of my list, please?"

Nathan couldn't help a laugh. "I'll have to see if I can swallow my pride and do that," he said. Shinobi gave him a questioning look, and he smiled and explained. "I'd trust Tomas at my back any day, but his team and mine have been friendly competitors for the last five years. There's been plenty of work for us both, but our people have been known to get a little rambunctious about it on their down time. There are bartenders from Bangkok to Amsterdam who know to duck under the bar when they see a Harrier and a member of the Pack walk in together."

"I could pay you to do it," Shinobi offered with an impish grin, waggling his eyebrows. It was like survival giddiness, in a way, getting a sudden beam of light in the middle of an otherwise rotten day - and the exhaustion probably wasn't helping. "Honestly, though, the only thing I might have available to offer either've you is a chance to go steal my car away from the London estate and bring it here. I miss my car."

Nathan paused, surprising himself with another laugh as an idea hit him. "Don't think Moira's about to let me out of her sight," he said, "but I'll tell you what. One of my teammates--Dom, actually, the one who had the trouble with your father, is probably going to be at loose ends in a couple of weeks. She's expressed a desire to come and check up on me, so I'll ask her if she's interested in stopping in London and stealing your car on the way over. It's precisely the sort of thing she'd enjoy." He grinned. "She may even do it for free."

Shinobi perked immediately at the laugh, tilting his head expectantly up at Nathan as he relayed his idea - and couldn't help a quiet cackle. "Serious? That'd be fantastic, free or not." He beamed sunnily, casting a brief glance down to the disc. "If she's up for it, let me know, and I'll give you the license plate so she knows which one to nab."

"I'll give it a couple of days and mention it to her. Last time we talked, we had decided she was going to shoot me while she was here." Nathan stopped, shaking his head a bit quizzically. "Not that you need to hear about that," he said, embarassed. "Anyway. I'm not sure how useful any of the information is going to be - it depends entirely on what you do with it - but you now know everything I know."

"I'm all curious, now, but I won't ask," Shinobi chuckled, grinning lopsidedly and stuffing his empty hand away into one of his pockets. "If she does come, I promise I'll ask her really nicely not to ventilate you. I figure that's the least I can do, for all this."

"They say information is free," Nathan said, going over to the coffeemaker and sniffing experimentally at its contents. "We both know that's not strictly true, but you don't have to worry about some hidden catch in all of this. My mercenary ethics fail me at times. It's probably why I get myself into so much trouble."

"Ah, bollocks to that," Shinobi tutted, casting a thoughtful look towards the kitchen door. "You're getting *something* for this, even if I have to disguise it as a present."

"Speaking of which," Nathan said, glancing back over his shoulder at Shinobi with a smile that felt a little sheepish, even to himself. "Didn't thank you for that list of restaurants... or the offer. If you really think you owe me something, I just might take you up on it. Once I can trust myself not to embarrass Moira by faceplanting into my soup or something."

"She'd find it endearing, looking back on it," Shinobi countered innocently, inclining his head. "Do take me up on it in some capacity, would you? If anybody here deserves a night away from the crazy, you two are pretty high up on the list, I think."

"Ah, but I take the crazy wherever I go," Nathan quipped, deciding to take a chance on the coffee. "And you need to eat something," he said, pouring himself a cup. "You're broadcasting hungry thoughts."

Shinobi blinked once, starting to protest before realizing that 'yes, you idiot, you *are* still hungry'. Just distracted. "Food would be good," he admitted, taking a turn to look sheepish as he turned to eye the refridgerator again. "It's just finding something that looks appetizing that's the problem."

"Fatigue does bad things to your appetite," Nathan said, turning and leaning against the counter as he sipped at his coffee. It was really pathetically weak, he thought with a flash of annoyance. Who made the coffee in this place? "Which reminds me... feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but I was wondering how Manuel's doing today."

"Manuel's.. I *think* he's doing a little better," Shinobi said after a moment's thought, rubbing his forehead with the heel of one hand as he suddenly looked at least as tired as he felt. "It's hard to tell. But he's clean, at least."

Nathan shook his head slowly, remembering his and Manuel's conversation in this kitchen. "I wish--" He stopped himself, grimacing. "I was about to say I wish there was something I could do, but that's not entirely the truth. Part of me wants that, but part of me--well, never mind. Maybe I should just stick to saying I hope his condition improves."

"You're scared of him," Shinobi hazarded, no accusation or disappointment in his voice - just a simple statement of fact, or his guess at what the fact of the matter was. "We all are, Nate."

"I'm fucking terrified of him," Nathan admitted without. "I don't know if Ms. Frost told you about what happened between him and I--" He stopped, shaking his head. "All of the empaths I've known have either been twisted shits or so committed to doing their jobs that they'll do everything the twisted shits will, even if they don't enjoy it. Manuel--" He paused again. "I've never known an empath at an age where they still have a chance to decide what they're going to do with their life. The--sad thing about Manuel, I suppose, is that he doesn't seem to know he has that choice."

"He just doesn't know any better," Shinobi confirmed, tucking the disc into a pocket to free up his hands as he moved towards the pantry, deciding to give the search for food another try. "He's had about as fucked up a childhood as anybody can get - something else to thank my father for, matter of fact, at least in part. He just needs a guiding hand. A very firm, reliable guiding hand who can be more stubborn than he is. Emma's doing her best, but when shit's going down and people aren't *telling* her.." He let out a frustrated sigh. "Maybe they'll learn, now."

"It's hard," Nathan said without thinking, his mind ranging back over the years, past Manuel and the Chinese empath, all the way back to those months of conditioning. "When someone's altered your emotions, it's impossible to trust how you feel, what your instincts are telling you. You doubt everything, and your instinct is to shut down and shut everything else out. Being altered telepathically isn't nearly as bad, if you can believe that--"

"When your mind is altered, I imagine you don't know it," Shinobi replied simply, rising onto his toes to grab a box of crackers from the uppermost shelf. "Nothing to mistrust, if you don't know anything's been altered." With a shrug, he moved towards the refridgerator again, setting the crackers down to free up his hands for more rummaging. "Manuel's there right now, though, I think.. the first thing, I mean. His whole life has been other people's feelings, more or less."

Nathan couldn't help the way his face froze at Shinobi's first comment. He turned to dump the awful coffee out into the sink, more to buy himself a moment than anything else. "He's got a hard road ahead of him," he said, a bit more coolly than he'd intended. "I'm glad he has friends like you and Marie to support him."

Shinobi glanced over his shoulder in time to catch Nathan's expression, grinning apologetically as he straightened back up with the block of cheddar in hand. "I just hope I'm more stubborn than he is. He's infuriating, but I feel like I owe him. See too much of me in there to be comfortable just giving up, you know?" He shrugged helplessly, glancing down as he shut the refridgerator door.

Rinsing out the mug, Nathan placed it in the dishwasher. What was left of his cheerful mood had been neatly punctured, and it took an effort to concentrate on Shinobi's words. "Mirrors are uncomfortable things," he said, or intended to say. What came out of his mouth sounded like roughly the right number of words, but the musical, lilting syllables weren't English. He stopped, blinking down at the sink. "Fuck," he said, and again it came out wrong, something that sounded more like 'flonk'.

Oh boy. "Maybe you should sit," Shinobi said, setting the cheese down on the box of crackers and waving a hand towards the table. "Do you need me to page Moira?"

Nathan closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, and tried again. "I think I'm all right," he said, very slowly and deliberately, unutterably relieved when the words came out in English that time. Still, he turned around and went to take a seat at the table. His knees were feeling a little weak. He lowered himself into the chair, unable to help a sigh. "That was strange," he said, the words coming a little more easily. "Tensed up, and all of a sudden I'm babbling in Askani--" He stopped, feeling the color drain from his face as a wave of pure shock swept over him. "Askani," he whispered. That was the word he'd forgotten from the vision the other day, and with it, more flooded back. "That's who they are. Who she is."

"Sorry about that," Shinobi murmured, a hand halfway to the cabinet to grab a glass when Nathan's whisper registered. He blinked slowly, looking back towards him with a very slight tilt of his head. "Well.. it's progress, hey?" he offered somewhat weakly, flashing a grin in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Sure you don't need me to ring her?"

Askani. The name of the language--the name of the people, too. And her name. She had taken the name of her people--or had they taken her name? Nathan started to shiver, his eyes blurring with what part of him was appalled to realize were tears. There was singing in his mind again, and this time he understood the words, the pride and determination and the helpless sadness. They were the Askani, their name was their badge of honor somehow, and they were dying--

And she - Askani? No, that wasn't quite right - was suddenly standing in the doorway, watching him. Nathan stared blankly at her. She was in dusty armor, as she had been in that one vision, rather than the ceremonial-looking robes she had been wearing the other times she had appeared to him. She smiled, tucking red hair behind one ear.

Shinobi eyed Nathan for a moment, taking in the tears, the blank stare, the shivering.. "Right, calling Moira," he murmured to himself, turning on his heel to start for the phone hung from the wall - and abruptly froze as he saw the woman in the doorway. Brow furrowing in confusion, his eyes darted between the armored redhead and Nathan before his mind put two and two together. He's just projecting, Shinobi. Get to the phone. He sucked in a breath and continued forward, lifting one hand to make a grab for the reciever.

Nathan saw her smile turn into a frown as she looked sideways at Shinobi. "This does not require any further audience," she said in heavily accented English, almost irritably, and Shinobi was suddenly stumbling back from the phone.

"Hey--?" Windmilling his arms, Shinobi's hands eventually caught the counter, grabbing on tight to help himself regain his balance. He gave his head a quick shake, blinking and peering towards the spectre - that's all she was, right? - as he slowly straightened back up. "We're just worried about him, that's all," he says carefully, silently cursing himself for leaving the basement at all. "...you're Askani?"

"Worry," she said almost savagely, her eyes narrowing, taking on a fiery glow. Nathan tried to get up, to say something, but he was frozen, unable to even open his mouth. "Such worth placed on a single life. A civilized age, yours, but a hypocritical one. When yours is the age that birthed mine, you have no cause to criticize what I do to save my people!"

"I'll be long dead by the time your age comes 'round, luv," Shinobi observed casually, too tired from the chaos surrounding last night to really give a rat's ass about the fiery glow the woman's eyes were giving off. "I don't want your people to be wiped out either, believe me. Neither does he, neither do any of us. But he can't help you if he keeps getting sicker. I need t'call a doctor."

"Children," she snarled, the air around her starting to burn. "Children, playing in the sand by the ocean of time, never noticing that the waves are washing away the ground beneath your feet--" She extended a hand towards Shinobi, and Nathan's eyes widened as felt the pull--on his own telekinesis.

Instinctively, before she could use his own power to do something he would never forgive himself for, he lashed out at her. But the force seemed to travel right through her, and she gave him a disgusted look as cracks spiderwebbed across the wall behind her. The hand that had been raised in Shinobi's direction suddenly waved in his, and Nathan grunted in pain as he was knocked out of his chair and slid across the floor, crashing into the cabinets.

"~Soon, little brother,~" she warned him in Askani. "~My patience is very thin of late.~" With that, she vanished, and Nathan sagged to the floor, somehow finding the breath to spit a series of profanities, half-English, half-not.

Even as the hand extended towards him, Shinobi kept the fear off of his face and firmly bottled up where it couldn't be sensed, even as his hands tightened their grip on the counter. The sudden cracking of the wall behind her was unexpected, but a very welcome distraction, since it seemed to work, and Shinobi only waited long enough for the woman to vanish before darting for the phone and practically yanking it off the hook. "Next time, I'm not asking before I call Moira," he states, loudly enough to be heard over Nathan's cursing as he punched in the doctor's number.

Nathan let his forehead rest against the floor for a moment. Nice cool floor. "She's going to kill me," he said raggedly, the pain in his side suggesting to him that his ribs were at least bruised. "She's going to kill me if I don't do what she wants--that was my telekinesis, Shinobi. My own telekinesis. She was reaching through me and using it." Rage, pure and uncomplicated, blasted through him, giving the strength to push him up off the floor. "She doesn't get to use me," he snarled, seeing red as he staggered for the door. He wasn't talking to Shinobi anymore, but the words were still flowing out, seemingly of their own accord. "Shih'hyana nal rehe il'saevara--I am not anyone's fucking weapon anymore!"

"Doc? Nate could use you in the kitchen aroundabouts nowish, luv. Yeah, he's -- oh, bugger, hang on.." With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Shinobi put a hand over the phone, giving Nathan a rather stern look. "Damnit, Nathan, sit your ass down before you go storming off to kill a woman whose great grandmother hasn't even been born yet! For Christ's.." Muttering, he took a moment to smack his forehead against the wall before uncovering the phone again, rubbing at his now-aching forehead with the heel of his hand. "He won't bloody sit still. Think he's coming your way, though. If he forgets, her name's Askani."