xp_logs | Nathan and Haroun, Thursday morning (Reply)

The Askani decide that since Alison is Clan, they'd like a closer look at the man so insistently courting her. Nathan gets to play 'big brother' and have some fun in the waking world with what he's been learning in his dreams. Haroun also enjoys himself, though is perhaps a little perturbed when Nathan starts talking in first-person plural.

Nathan stuck his head into the gym, seeing Haroun at the weights. His eyes narrowed a little and he lingered at the doorway for a moment, considering his approach. A certain amount of delicacy was required, he told himself, and moved into the gym, smiling brightly. "You look like you're working," he said, part of him distantly registering the change in his accent. #You keep out of this,# he warned those murmuring inner voices.

Haroun didn't stop his reps to look at Nathan directly, but he did manage a grin through the strain of his weightlifting. "Hey, Nathan." he said around sharp exhales of breath. "I'll be done in a moment. Just want to finish this set." He had a fairly impressive-for-him amount of weight on the bar, and was slamming it into the air and back down again with authority.

Nathan made a thoughtful noise and wandered over to where the practice weapons were kept. #Must we?#

#Yes.# It was a strange, multi-layered sort of answer, as if countless voices were speaking at once. They were doing that a lot lately. It was vaguely creepy.

"I thought I should work out some frustration before I saw Manuel this afternoon," Nathan said aloud, rolling his eyes as his accent didn't revert back to normal. "Less chance of blood on the classroom floor that way."

Haroun racked his weights and then sat up, reaching for his towel to clear the sweat from his eyes. "Class this afternoon?" he inquired pleasantly. "Boy really gets to you, doesn't he?"

"He's very concerned with his honor," Nathan said, picking up one of the staffs and swinging it experimentally. Not as long as the psimitar, obviously. "His honor, above all. So he dishonors others and chooses not to see it." #Would you stop? I sound like a lunatic!#

Haroun looked at Nathan oddly. "Are you OK?" he asked, worried. "That doesn't sound like you at _all_."

The inner murmuring receded a little, and Nathan looked back at Haroun with a crooked smile. "Fine. How are you? Weights wear you out?"

Haroun grinned. "A little tired, but I'm fresh enough for anything you've got in mind." he boasted, then thumped his chest with a fist. "You want to spar a little, I take it?"

"Just what the doctor ordered," Nathan murmured wryly, putting the staff back, his gaze roaming over the rest of the practice weapons idly. His hands twitched at the knives, but he restrained himself. He would have to start practicing some of these techniques awake soon, though... if only to see how well the dream-instruction was sticking.

Haroun caught that twitch, and shook his head. "I'm not very good with weapons. I prefer my bare hands or a gun." he admitted. He then started stretching as he waited for Nathan to finish up fondling the weapons rack.

"You know, I haven't touched a gun in months? Kind of funny," Nathan said, shaking his head as he turned away from the weapons and started to stretch. "I don't even have one, here."

Haroun gasped theatrically. "Oh noooo!" he said, imitating the ever-funny Mister Bill. "While I'm no gun bunny, the things do have their uses."

Nathan froze for a moment, remembering that yes, actually he had touched a gun within the last couple of months. All right, definitely need to talk to Jack about whether it's a good thing to be mentally editing like that.... Shaking it off, he eyed Haroun thoughtfully as the inner murmuring grew a little louder again. "You seem in better humor this morning," he said, the Askani lilt creeping back into his voice.

Haroun nodded. "Ramadan starts tomorrow, so I've been doing a little mental housecleaning." he said. "Apologized, or at least started to, to Alison for screaming at her."

#See?# Nathan demanded. #I told you he was going to be reasonable about that.#

#She's still Clan. The gesture needs making. Even if he doesn't perceive it for what it is.#

#And I was just complaining about Manuel's weird ideas of honor...# Nathan smiled a bit wryly. "That's good," he said, realizing he'd been standing there staring at Haroun for a few very long moments as the internal conversation went on.

Haroun looked at Nathan curiously. "Did I spill something on my shirt or something? You're staring at me. Knock it off." he requested. "It's creepy when you do that."

Oh, I'm fairly sure I haven't even begun to creep you out this morning, Haroun... Nathan managed his best facsimile of an innocent smile and finished stretching. "Powers-free, again?"

"Might be best. Don't want you to sprain your brain again." he said with a teasing grin as he walked out away from the weights and to the sparring circle.

"No one took me up on my offer," Nathan said a bit crossly, following him. "You'd think with the number of energy-projectors around, someone wouldn't mind helping me test my shields."

Haroun shrugged. "I'd love to help, but I've got the wrong power for that. You talk to Scotty? I think he's getting a little itchy. Or his little brother might be able to do it for you."

"I'll have to," Nathan said, walking into the circle. "I'm not much good if I can't shield against energy. I do think what happened with Alison was a fluke, but I need to make sure."

Haroun nodded, keeping an eye on Nathan at all times. "So, how all-out do you want to go here? Touch for points, full contact, or hand back the teeth after you knock them out?" he asked sweetly.

#Option three.#

#Would you shut up?#

#Only do mind the teeth. Little sister likes his smile.#

#And how do you know THAT?#

#We peeked?#

"I'm liking the sound of option three," Nathan said, just as sweetly.

Haroun blinked, then grinned widely. "All rightie then. Go get the open relay to Medlab - just in case." He walked off the mat to go retrieve a medkit - the better-prepared they were, the better things would go for them if one or the other wound up in Medical over this.

#Moira's going to kill me,# Nathan pointed out as he stepped out of the circle to do that. #And you do realize he's younger and faster than I am, yes?#

Haroun stepped back into the sparring circle, after having dropped the open medkit just outside the ring. "All right, old man. You're on. You want to tell me what's really bothering you first, or do I have to just guess?"

After all those years with Dom, he really should have learned that just because someone had 'vivid' moods didn't mean they were unperceptive, Nathan reflected. In fact, the opposite was generally the case. "Nothing's bothering me," he said amiably and attacked, as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

Haroun was rocked back onto his heels by the ferocity of Nathan's attack. Whatever was bothering him, he sure felt the need to take his pound of flesh in the form of bruises and blood. He blocked, but Nathan's next attack was on its way before he could counterattack. His every move anticipated. There was something different about Nathan, the way he fought. Something more refined. He didn't understand it.

Nathan was smiling as he fought, because he was slipping into the patterns his dream-self had practiced as easily as if he'd known the style all his life. It felt good. More than that, it felt right. The inner murmuring was reaching a joyous crescendo, and everything seemed washed in golden light.

#Not 'punishment',# the composite voice reminded him. #Just a test.#

Haroun was drawing on every scrap that the Jew - Haroun had never learned his name, and the Jew had never offered it - could teach him about the art of violence. And it _still_ wasn't enough. He was taking hits, solid ones. An elbow to the nose. A fist to the solar plexus. A kick to the knee. Haroun was dealing out some pain, but not enough - not nearly enough to stop the juggernaut before him. If things got much worse, Haroun was going to have to start cheating just to keep up. He didn't like getting schooled like this, not one _bit_. Haroun let the anger build in him, letting it fuel his moves, add snap and power to his punches and kicks.

#Very nice,# the composite voice said approvingly. #He can fight. But look, there's that temper again...#

Nathan backed away a step, to take a breather he didn't really need. He could almost feel them, humming along his bones, in his blood, thousands of Askani soldiers exulting in sensations long-forgotten. "~You dance well, brother,~" he said with a fierce smile, the words slipping out in Askani, almost of their own accord.

Haroun didn't understand the language, so he replied in Arabic. ~And your mother fucks goats.~ he snarled before launching into a furious assault , holding nothing back. The contest was no-powers, yes, and Haroun would hold to that even if it cost him his life.

But his cybernetic legs were not, strictly speaking, a power.

He started putting more power into his kicks, relying on them more. He was careful to stay below bone-breaking force - but not _very_ far below. His hands he used strictly for defense.

He was going to be more than a little sore tonight, a small, distant part of Nathan acknowledged, but this was worth it. More than worth it. Haroun's obvious anger only made him laugh delightedly, and for the first time ever, he surrendered to the voices inside him. To their lively curiosity about this man courting a sister, to their fierce determination to make him prove himself... to the pure clear joy of a fighting style that had started as a dance and had never lost that, for all its lethality.

#Flow like water, glide like wind, snap like fire, stand fast like earth,# Askani's voice alone came to him, whispering. Pleased.

There was a grace in the way Haroun fought, but never a delicacy. It was not in him to be flashy and showy. Short, direct, effective - those were the mainstays of Haroun's style. The anger sang within him, made him reckless. For every blow he took, he returned one in kind. Every time he was knocked down, he quickly sprang back up to his feet. Soon enough the ring was splattered with blood - both his and Nathan's. But his body couldn't stand much more of that sort of abuse.

The feeling of near-transcendence started to fade, slowly, almost gently, and Nathan heard the whispering grow softer. Still approving, approving and satisfied.

#He'll do,# was the verdict.

Nathan laughed again and stepped back, raising his hands palm-up. "A good way to stir the blood, no?" he asked Haroun, still grinning, and the Askani accent thick in his voice again. "Nicely done, ~brother~. They would tell you themselves, but I think I've exhausted them."

"You're speaking in tongues again, old man." Haroun said, clearly sucking wind. He paused then, to spit a glob of blood onto the mat. "Allah be my witness, I _love_ this!" he shouted, raising his fists to the ceiling and shaking them. "Don't you feel it? Feel _alive_?" he exulted, and then lowered his hands to his sides. "So what brought all this on?" he said, favoring the ribs on his left side. "I do something to get up your nose?"

"Not my nose," Nathan said, starting to feel some of the hits he'd taken. He hadn't been aware of any of them landing during the fight, and he wondered a little sheepishly just what Moira was going to have to say to him about all of this. "And not theirs, really, either. They just wanted to 'meet' you in a proper fashion."

"Who?" Haroun asked curiously. He had read Nathan's file, of course, with its numerous mentions of the Askani, but he had never really _believed_.

"The Askani," Nathan said patiently, picking up on the skepticism. He grinned again, ignoring the way his jaw was starting to protest. "What, you didn't notice something different? We weren't fighting like Nathan alone fights."

Haroun blinked. "OK, this is more than a little weird." he said. But he held his ground - probably because he hurt too badly to make a run for it. "You're just going to have to forgive me if I'm a little weirded out here."

"So long as you're not called us brain-sucking parasites and screaming for us to be exorcised..." Nathan blinked, then grinned at Haroun. "Then we're good," he went on in a more normal tone, the accent gone. "And in that case, I mean you and me, not the royal we that includes all my friends in my head."

Haroun ohh'ed. "Gotcha." he said. "And I noticed the new style. Believe me, I noticed. You went and got fuckin' _crafty_ on me. I haven't had to fight like that in a long, long time. Lost that one, so I must be getting better."

#Yes,# the Askani informed him. #He will definitely do. If that's what she decides.#

#So good of you to leave the choice up to her.#

#Hush.#

Nathan rubbed at his jaw, then blinked at the clock on the gym hall. "Huh. I have classes to get ready for." He laughed wickedly. "I think I'll be able to tolerate Manuel this afternoon. Thank you." The hand-to-heart gesture slipped out before he could help himself.

Haroun returned it, guessing that it was significant. "Go on, get out of here, you old pirate. I'll catch up with you for dinner?"

"If we both find ourselves able to chew, sure," Nathan said, laughing as he limped out of the gym.