xp_logs | Nathan and Manuel, Monday night: Knight takes Queen. King Objects.

They continue their aborted conversation from last week about Amanda and links. Things don't go quite as well this time.

Manuel is out on the back porch, enjoying the last of the day's sunshine and warmth. He's got a cigarette in one hand and his iPod on his hip, nodding his head silently to his music. He's got his feet kicked up on the railing and his sunglasses on.

Coming out the back door, Nathan wrinkles his nose at the smell of the cigarette. "Nasty habit," he says dryly, ambling over.

Manuel looked over at Nate, and amiably flicked ash in his general directions. "I find it soothing." he says, before pressing PAUSE on his iPod. "Something about the way nicotine interacts with my power."

Nathan grunts, refraining from making any question about how it interacts with his lungs. "Nice night," he says, leaning back against the railing. "It's good to get some fresh air after being cooped up in the medlab for the weekend."

Manuel just smiles. "Yes, it is nice - for North America. I miss nights on the Med." he says wistfully. "Oh, stop radiating disapproval. I'll put it out already." And then he does so, flicking the smoke into the bucket'o'sand provided for Just Such A Purpose.

"Much appreciated," Nathan says wryly. "Never liked the damned things." He folds his arms across his chest, regarding Manuel thoughtfully. "So did I leave you hanging on Wednesday night?" he asks lightly. "Like I said, I have absolutely no memory of the conversation."

"Somewhat." Manuel said. "You were talking about ways to Deal with bond-breakage. Talked about physical activity, and losing myself in myself. You were about to elaborate when you keeled over."

"Okay," Nathan says a bit uncertainly, really wishing he knew more about what precisely he had said. "Did I say anything about avoiding physical contact?"

"Yes. I laughed at you." he says with a grin. "I already know that my power's touch-sensitive. I figure it's a transmissions thing - it's easier than picking things up through the air."

Nathan raises an eyebrow. "You laughed at me, as in dismissing the suggestion?" he asks.

Manuel nods. "I like touching." he says with a waggle of his eyebrows. "And there are few enough things left that I enjoy that I can still do."

It takes a great deal of effort not to roll his eyes. "We're not talking about touching in general," Nathan says as patiently as he can. "We're talking about not touching Amanda. Unless you do want the link reestablished?" He gives the young man a keen look. The sessions with Charles are sharpening his telepathy, but Manuel is still difficult to read.

"Well, if _that's_ your big suggestion, then I'm afraid that I'm just gonna have to suffer." he says, keeping his smirk plastered firmly in place. "She's just too hot to keep my hands off, you know? Oh, wait, I forgot - you're all old and stuff." he says.

"That was one of my minor suggestions," Nathan says, somehow finding the amusement factor in the situation. Not that there isn't also a good deal of irritation, but it strikes him that sending Manuel mixed signals might be a small measure of revenge for his mouthiness. "But hey. If you want to be a selfish little shit, go right ahead. I'm sure if you damage her mind she'll forgive you." Deliberately, giving in to the vaguely sadistic instinct, he pushes an image at Manuel, fast enough that the kid doesn't have the chance to reinforce his shields. It's of Amanda, as she would be if the worst happened and the overlapping became permanent.

Manuel blinks, and then pushes _back_ against the image, not to cast it from his mind but to hang onto the connection. "You've been practicing." he says, his smirk now gone completely. "But it wasn't smart to give me an in to your mind. Especially not _you_. So I suggest that you stop making me angry." The frost in his voice is almost enough to emulate Bobby.

Nathan's eyes flicker to the dampener, then back to Manuel's face, narrowing. "Go right ahead," he invites, distantly aware of the fact that this is totally insane. "If you're that sure you can do anything to me, and do it without triggering my telekinesis." He smiles thinly. "And trust me, if you do? Not going to be knocking myself out this time."

"What is your damage, anyway? Do you want her for youself? The Scot not enough for you, old man? Need something a little younger, is that it? Well get it through your fucking skull, Senor Dayspring. I am _not_ giving up on Amanda. Not for you, not for anybody. She wants me, I want her. That's all that matters." he says coldly. "Got it?" he asks, punctuating his words with a little empathic shove at his link to Moira.

Nathan's head jerks backwards, as if the push is a slap, and he senses Moira - at her desk? - reeling as well. He reaches out hurriedly to soothe her, promising her that he's all right and will explain later, and doesn't turn his attention back to Manuel until he's sure she's not going to come running to see what's going on.

"Oh dear," he says softly, centering himself in that cold rage, that wrath, and not bothering to try and hide it from the boy. "Someone's dampener isn't working quite as well as it should be, is it?" He levitates Manuel's chair a few inches off the ground, knowing he's taking a risk. If Manuel tries to stop him and triggers the conditioning, this could get very ugly, but if what he's about to say is to have any sort of impact he needs to make it clear that he is not going to be pushed around.

"Read my emotions, Manuel," he goes on calmly. "You'll see I'm not lusting after your Amanda." He stresses the possessive pronoun quite deliberately, letting the part of him that reluctantly accepts the emotional connection between the empath and the witch come up to the surface. "But if you fuck her up because you're too impatient to wait until you've gotten yourself straightened out so that you don't hurt her by accident, then you really are a selfish little shit, and there will be consequences."

He drops the chair back to the porch, and switches to telepathic speech. #And you will never,# he says, his mental 'voice' somehow not as steady, #under any circumstances, now or in the future, dampener or no dampener, use your powers on Moira. Ever.# He smiles thinly, clenching his hands into fists at his sides as they begin to shake. #You saw what's left of my link with my wife. You've experienced the pain I still feel. Ask yourself what you think I'd be prepared to do to prevent anything from happening to Moira.#

Manuel blinks rapidly as he rose into the air, sensing the wrath he's invoked in the big mercenary. "You have more to lose than I do if you harm me." he says cooly. "And you're supposed to be the responsible adult. I have an excuse for acting the ass - do you?" he smirks. He then changes the smirk into a full-blown grin as he stares at Nathan. "Be careful, mercenary. Be very careful."

"You misunderstand me," Nathan says evenly. "Or partially, at least. Whatever happens with Amanda, I have no intention of harming you. If the worst-case scenario happens there, you'll wind up punishing yourself far, far worse than anything I could ever do to you. That is what I meant by consequences."

Manuel snickers. "Right. Glad we got that cleared up. Do you have any _more_ words of wisdom you'd like to share, or would you prefer to continue to threaten me?"

Nathan shakes his head slowly, some of his tension draining away. "If you don't care about Amanda's well-being," he says, "if all that matters to you is that you want her, why do you care about how to deal with a broken link? Why not go find her, right now, and force it on her?" He shrugs; the diffident gesture takes an effort. "The dampener obviously isn't preventing you from using your power offensively."

Manuel laughs. "Well, I can't, for one thing. Secondly, I want it to be of her own free will. If I just wanted a puppet, I could have had one at any time." There's a flash of _something_ through his mental shield, but it's quickly buried. "And I do care for her well-being - more than you, if you want to take her away for me. And _you_ made the connection to _me_, estupido. If you hadn't, there would be nothing I could have done."

"I don't want to take her away from you," Nathan grits, the rage dying down into a sort of helpless exasperation. "I want you to be able to do whatever it is you want to do with each other - and trust me, I really don't want to know - without anyone getting mentally crippled or burned out." He stops for a minute, his eyes narrowing. "As for me making the connection -- do you think I was just trying to scare you, with that image? I have *seen* the aftermath of a more serious case of what's been happening between you and Amanda, Manuel. I'm not talking out of my ass here." He feels his expression settle into stony lines as he remembers. "She was a trainee," he says tightly. "One of the young empaths at Mistra - the government program I was part of - decided he wanted her. Oh, I think it was at least borderline consensual. Didn't stop them from turning themselves into vegetables, though."

"Yes you do. You cannot speak to me but to tell me to stay away, that I'm going to turn her into a vegetable or something. It is ... vexing." he says, the annoyance dripping from his voice. "You really don't have any faith in my abilities, do you? Yes, I have had problems - I've learned everything I know on my own. I didn't _get_ any fancy government training like you did. So you're just going to have to forgive me if I'm still feeling this whole thing out on my own. The link is a _gift_ - from her to me. It is a wonder, a blessing. You would have me treat it like a curse, something to be burned out at the roots. Is it that I am not worthy, while you are?"

"I would have you treat it," Nathan snarls, "as a work-in-progress, you stupid boy! Do you think you need to tell me that a link can be a wonder? I was living with one, reveling in it every moment of every day, while you were in diapers! I woke up to the other half of my soul every day for ten fucking years!" The passion is flooding into his voice more and more with every word, and he can't stop himself, even though he knows that it will fall on deaf ears, that Manuel will probably throw it back into his face and he will regret saying a word. "What you have had with Amanda so far is only the tiniest fraction of what it could be, de la Rocha, of what you could still have with her if you DON'T SCREW UP!" All of the anger died suddenly, leaving him cold and shaking, wrestling with a bitter pain he didn't really understand. "You tell me I don't have any faith in your abilities, Manuel, but what I believe or don't believe doesn't matter. If you can't do this right, you'll lose more than you can imagine. Take that as a threat, or me trying to rain on your parade, or whatever the hell you want. But it is the truth, whether you want to acknowledge it or not."

Manuel looks unimpressed. "Nice speech. Felt it from here. And you believed every word of it. All that I'm going to tell you is that _I know_ what you are saying. But I _will not_ let you drive us apart just because _you_ think it'd be a good idea - that I'm not ready, that it's a terrible risk, blah blah blah. I fucking know that, OK? It. Doesn't. Matter. I _know_ it's dangerous - I've felt what happens when it goes wrong, remember? So why is it that you're only telling _me_ this, hrm? Sexist much?"

Nathan actually gapes at him, totally at a loss for words for one of the few times in his life. "You know--" he starts in a dazed voice, but the rest of the words stick in his throat. "You know, and yet you--" He stops, staring blankly at him, barely registering the way the porch starts to shiver around him. "You don't care," he says, not recognizing the sound of his own voice, shuddering slightly at the sound of the laugh that slips out. "You know, and you don't care. Doesn't matter. Okay. I'll... stop wasting my time." He turns to go, staggering a little.

"Give me a little bit of credit - I'm not -trying- to re-activate the link. That was an _accident_, and it won't happen again. Stop twisting my words, assface. It doesn't matter _to me_ what you think of the risks and dangers involved. Xavier keeps telling me that a strong will is essential to being a successful psi. _I_. _Want_. _This_. And so does she. You don't, but this isn't open to a vote, Nathan. No one asked Moira if she wanted hers, I'll bet, but no one's knocking down your door to preach at you about the dangers, and how much you're going to fuck up her brain. So why do it to me?"

Something lets him hold onto control as Manuel brings up the link with Moira, and Nathan raises a hand, without looking at him. Looking at him would be too much, would snap that last restraint. "I'm done, Manuel," he says, in an approximation of a normal tone that feels as though it comes from somewhere outside of himself. "Do what you want."

"Oh gee, can I, sir? I'd really like that." Manuel taunts. "Your objection has been duly noted."

Nathan does look at him, almost involuntarily, and he feels the snap. For a moment, he 'sees' Manuel on a level below tactile reality, at the same level that he sees the virus, at the same level that he had been seeing when he had turned the tree into glass. So easy, a distant, cool part of his mind pointed out. Just reach out, and...

Nathan closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and then goes back inside.