xp_logs | Nathan and Haroun, Friday morning

Haroun comes upon Nathan in the gym. He asks for (and gets) a demonstration of some of the Askani fighting styles. Then he and Nathan agree on regular lessons.

Okay, so it hadn't gone away. Even after a night's sleep, the sensation of balance, of stability was still there. Nathan smiled to himself as he moved through the exercise, the practice knifes flashing as he threw himself into the pattern. He could get to like this. He really could.

Haroun, about to walk into the Gym for one of his many, many workouts, stopped to watch Nathan step through some sort of knife kata. It was balanced, it was both circular and linear, and the footwork was quite impressive. Once Nathan finished, he slowly clapped his hands together a few times. "Not bad, old man. The ghosts in your head, think they'll share this new art with infidel heretics?" he said with a grin.

Nathan paused, raising an eyebrow even as he smiled. Something of an unexpected request, given how much Haroun and Askani hadn't particularly gotten along. But he supposed that if anything was going to break the ice it would be the prospect of new fighting styles.

"What, the knife work? Sure," he said amiably. "It's mostly a meditative thing, with them. Although, yes, if you do it top-speed, you could kill pretty efficiently with it."

"Can you do it and not be a psi?" he asked, still leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

"The Askani weren't all, or even mostly psis, you know," Nathan said. "Their... officer class, I suppose you'd call them, were generally, but that's only because if you've got a telepath/telekinetic of sufficient strength, well..." He paused, his smile a bit tight for a moment. "We make fairly good battle machines, after all. But no, you don't have to be a psi to learn most of their martial arts. The knife work is just a matter of patterns.

Haroun nodded. "I'm an engineer by trade, I do OK with patterns." he said with a grin. "So show me."

Nathan glanced at the case where the practice weapons were kept, floating another pair of knives over to Haroun. "First of all, two knives, always. The Askani had a saying that translates rough to 'A hand without a weapon in it might as well be a bloody stump.'"

Haroun quirked an eyebrow, but accepted both knives. "OK. I was watching you there for a bit. Footwork seems pretty complicated. How well does it do on broken ground?"

"Surprisingly well. Mostly because it's actually made up of several layers of patterns." Nathan demonstrated the first, almost a figure-eight. "If you're doing it for meditation, you add layers at regular intervals." He added another, a spiral that interwove with the figure-eight. "In combat, you adapt for whatever ground you're on. But you notice that it's generally circular," he said, still moving. "And when it's not, the only way you move is forward."

Haroun looked skeptical at that. "I'll have to see it in action. OK, so show me the basics here. Intro-level beginner stuff." he said, stepping into the Gym. "I'm a little worried that the pattern stuff makes you predictable in combat, but I'll wait to see how it pans out."

"Nothing wrong with some healthy skepticism," Nathan conceded, then demonstrated the first pattern again, adding the actual movement of the knives this time. "Canaanite light infantry armor was weak in specific places," he explained as he moved. "At the joints, generally."

"Most body-armor is weak around the joints. Since the wearer needs to be able to move and all that. Only stuff I've even _heard_ of that isn't are the high-end energy projectors who can reshape their field with a thought to follow the lines of their body." he said with an amused snort. "OK, let me try that..." he said, and took up a stance like Nathan's, to try the first set of moves.

"Back off a little," Nathan said, still repeating the pattern, even as he watched Haroun. "You're being too aggressive."

"That's usually not a problem in knife-fighting." he said with a smirk, but obligingly backed off a bit on the intensity to repeat the moves again. "This is weird."

"Oh?" Nathan asked, intrigued. Wondering if Haroun felt what he had felt when he'd first starting learning this. "How so?"

"Just weird. A lot of emphasis on redirection and the circular-type footwork. I tend to be a straightforward go forth and fuck them up sort of a guy. This will take some getting used to." he explained as he walked through the sequence again, taking it slow to make sure that he got the steps correct.

"I could explain to you why, but it would involve lots of talk about energy flows and you'd probably give me a weird look," Nathan said with a chuckle, adding another layer to the pattern he was walking once it seemed Haroun had gotten the first down. "You might not have to be a psi to do this, but they had a lot to do with the development of it."

"Great. Mind-fascists." he said with a grumble as he added the new footwork into the routine. "Reminds me of some of the Chinese shit I've seen." he said as he walked through the new sequence slowly. "All about the chi-focusing and all that nonsense."

"Nonsense?" Nathan asked in amusement. "Haroun, want to look through my eyes for a second?"

"What, you're going to claim to believe in chi now?" he said with a disbelieving snort. "What, you getting all Shaolin on my ass in your old age?"

"Not chi," Nathan said. "Something else. Keep moving and watch." Even as he added a third level to his own pattern, he reached out and established a surface-connection with Haroun's mind. Just enough to let him see the interplay of energies - the disruption of the air with each movement, the sub-telepathic projections of intent, all interwove with the physical pattern of the exercise and the movement of the knives.

Haroun blinked as this new tableau unfolded. "Yeah, that's great if you can see airflow and sense intent. What about the dirtboys and mudgirls among us? Those not so similarly blessed?" he said. "We can walk the patterns, but we could never see it, adapt it like you folks can."

"Well, you're shit out of luck on that score, aren't you?" Nathan said amiably, adding another layer to the pattern. "Doesn't mean this is any less effective for what it is, even without that added dimension." Enough different components to the pattern now that he could start changing them up, put the elements into a new order, reverse some of them. "Even if you don't use it as anything but a meditative exercise..." He put a foot wrong and stopped, grimacing cheerfully. "And I'm clearly not quite used to talking and doing this at the same time."

Haroun concentrated on getting the footwork down on the three-element pattern, not advancing like Nathan had through the next few layers of footwork. "There is that, yeah, but it's still kind of arrogant of them." he commented as he stepped wrong then began the sequence again.

"Arrogant? Why?"

"They come up with this combat style, teach it to the headblind, but to really get maximum utility out of it you need to be Just Like They Are. Psis. It's arrogant." he elaborated.

"There is a feral variant," Nathan conceded. "Involves leaving yourself open to take a hell of a lot more punishment, because you have a healing factor. The trade-off is that you have a lot more offensive power." He made a thoughtful noise, stepping back into the pattern. "Psis and ferals. Those were their vanguard-types, generally. Energy-projectors were human artillery, depending on their range..."

Haroun hrmmed. "And folks like me just waved from the sidelines? I guess you could take this whole thing three-D..." he said as he walked through the steps and thought it over.

"Flyers were air support. The... separation of functions - " The Askani word didn't translate properly. " - didn't last for very long once a battle went bad, of course. Or in the last years of the war. They were throwing everyone and anyone onto the front lines at that point."

"Air support? Heh." he said with a grimace. "Sure, if you have some other power that lets you go to town from in the air - or if you want to grapple in midair."

"Well, they had energy projectors who could fly. Flyers with no other powers would load up on conventional weaponry. There were midair--dogfights, almost. But they did a lot of rescue and evac work, too. Darting in to pick up the wounded and get them out of there, that sort of thing." Nathan gave Haroun a speculative look. "Why doesn't that sit well with you?"

"I'm all for medevacing or hauling someone's ass up to the front lines." he said defensively. "Even rescue work. But it's all REMF stuff." he groused.

Nathan made a thoughtful noise. "Do you think that none of them felt that way?" he asked, then smiled a bit thinly. "Hell, Haroun, towards the end of the war they started to breed specifically for the most combat-applicable powers."

"I'm not surprised." he said. "Really." He then looked down at his feet to try to get the patterns down, to learn their ins and outs. "I am a fairly good shot." he added after a few moments.

"You know," Nathan said after a moment, "I haven't touched a gun in months? There's a strange thought..."

"The Askani probably don't approve of anything so crude for their great psi-warrior." he said with a teasing grin. "Nope, you get to do it all with your brain."

"Speaking of doing it with my brain, they taught me a new trick," Nathan said suddenly, brightening. He gave Haroun a mischievous smile. "Want to see?"

"As long as it doesn't involve a large amount of pain and/or death, sure." he said warily.

Nathan moved as soon as Haroun gave the okay. It was a variant of what he'd done in the bar, the blurring of memory rather than an out-and-out mindwipe. This time, though, it was Haroun's senses he was blurring, his perception of time.

He was across the mats with one of the practice knives laid against Haroun's throat in maybe five seconds. From Haroun's point of view, it would be near-instantaneous, as if he'd suddenly developed super-speed.

Haroun blinked. "Nice trick." he said from his new position with the knife at his throat. "Either you've got a whole lot faster or you are fucking with my head. Either way, could be very useful." he said with admiration. "Remind me to see if Shaw or _anybody_ has a reliable miniaturized psi-jammer that can be installed into my systems." he grumbled. "That won't suck so much power that I'd be lucky to generate a warm breeze."

Nathan lowered the knife. "Fucking with your head," he admitted cheerfully. "Altering your perception of time. It actually takes surprisingly little effort. Moira was letting me practice on her when I first picked it up. She's just fascinated by it."

Haroun hrmmed. "I wonder - I've got an artifical time-sense in the 'ware, to keep the processing as symmetrical as it possibly can be. I wonder if I could tap into that to beat your little stunt. Probably not - I don't have that kind of interconnection to the 'ware, and I'm fairly sure I don't want them drilling holes into my brain to wire it all up."

"If you get that psi-jammer," Nathan said thoughtfully, "I wouldn't mind helping you test it."

Haroun blinked and then nodded. "Probably not going to happen. Tech's still too new, too raw. Hell, adapting even normal stuff to my 'ware is a challenge, let alone the bleeding-edge stuff."

"I'll confess to a certain amount of hope that psi-jammers and similar technology don't ever become everyday stuff," Nathan said dryly, taking a couple of steps back. "The fucking things drive me insane, or make me flat-out sick, depending on the degree of the jamming, or suppression..."

"Life's a bitch." he said with a nasty little smile. "Not that I want you to kick off or anything because someone tied your power in a knot, but it's nice to see you really powerful really versatile folks taken down a peg or two from time to time."

"You say that on principle, and because you're a bastard at times," Nathan said in amusement, "but if you and I were walking into Appalling Tactical Situation #258 and I turned to you and said 'Whoops, I appear to have become headblind and in fact am repressing the urge to throw up on your shoes', you wouldn't consider the damned things all that nice, I'm willing to wager."

"Pretty much." Haroun said with a grin. "Damn, I'm getting transparent."

"In any case..." Nathan paused, smiling at him a bit oddly. "You know, I could demonstrate the paired full-speed version of this exercise. Just to show you what it can do."

"Be my guest." he said with amusement as he settled back to watch. "This should be good."

Nathan pulled gently at Haroun's practice knives. Haroun let go, and he held them in the air for a moment, even as he turned his attention inward and called out a name and a respectfully phrased request.

There was a glimmer of light, right beside where the knives were hovering in mid-air, and Rawn materialized, taking them out of the air. The Askani's last war leader seemed even more physically imposing in the real world, topping Nathan by a few inches and outmassing him considerably.

"Greetings," he said to Haroun, the usual faint smile playing on his lips.

Haroun looked at the Askani and snickered. "What, you grow 'em in a vat to get 'em that big?" he asked Nathan and then chuckled.

Nathan opened his mouth, then closed it, trying not to wince. Rawn, thankfully, was looking amused. "Haroun," he said very steadily, "this is Rawn. Rawn was the Askani's last... general, I suppose you'd call him. He reenacted the battle of Thermopylae with the last of the Askani armies, trying to buy time for their refugee columns to escape. Rawn," he said, looking back at the towering Askani, "this is my friend Haroun. Who thinks he's funny."

"Who knows he's funny." he corrected Nathan. "I'd say it was a pleasure, but under the circumstances, you'll forgive me if I don't. So you're the one teaching Nathan how not to fight like a girl?" he told Rawn with a grin.

Rawn merely smiled and looked back at Nathan. "~He reminds me rather alarmingly of my younger blood-brother,~" the general murmured. "Are you certain you want to try this while maintaining my manifestion?" he asked, switching to English. His accent, as always, was a good deal heavier than Askani's.

Nathan shrugged, smiling. "It's good practice?" he offered.

"As you wish, then," Rawn said, and closed with him all at once, moving at top speed. Nathan barely had time to step into the pattern himself before steel rang against steel. Rawn's manifestation was a solid one, with real weight and force behind it, as if he were actually here.

Haroun watched the demonstration intently, trying to get a feel for the ebb and flow of the fight, to understand the philosophy behind the style.

It wasn't quite like fighting a flesh and blood opponent, or fighting in a dream, where they were both more or less on equal footing. But Rawn's presence was intense enough that Nathan could still perceive the flickers in his intent, and his physical form was solid enough to produce something of the same effect as a flesh and blood opponent.

Rawn, unlike many of the other war leaders fought with a cool intensity, an absolute concentration that Nathan knew he couldn't match. He didn't have that abandon. Maybe because he wasn't dead?

Rawn repaid him for the moment's distraction by seizing the opening and driving him backwards, his gaze faintly amused as it met Nathan's.

Haroun smirked. "You're slipping, Nathan. Mount Vesuvius here is gonna have your guts for garters if you keep that up." he commented drily.

Nathan didn't stop to answer Haroun, or even direct a well-deserved glower in his direction. Got to love the heckling from the audience...

"~Focus,~" Rawn said, gently but reprovingly. "~Focus and let go.~"

Contradictory instructions, but it was the paradox that was at the heart of all of this. Nathan took a deep breath and felt himself slip into a different mindset, centering himself.

This time, when he closed with Rawn, he was no longer aware of Haroun watching.
Whatever Nathan had done, whatever correction he had made, it certainly made a difference. Watching Nathan fight with Rawn, with himself, really, was a Freudian's wet dream and a Jungian playground, but Haroun was only interested in the Art.

Patterns flowed, one into the other, disassembling themselves and reassembling into whole new shapes. Predictability in the individual elements, but not in the combinations. Direction, intensity, it could all be changed at whim, in responses so rapid that the warning flicker were barely perceptible.

Of course, Rawn still had the advantage. He didn't tire. Didn't have to breathe.

Haroun was almost getting dizzy trying to keep track of the attacks, feints, and counterattacks of the fight. But even he could see that Nathan was beginning to flag, while Rawn was tireless.
"Give it up, Nate." he said with a grin. "Vesuvius doesn't get tired, and you do. Yank his choke-chain and send him back to Ghostland."

Nathan didn't hear him. Part of him recognized that he was slipping into exactly the kind of myopia that was the dangerous downside of this. Most of him, though, was absolutely focused on the fight, on Rawn. Opening, there would be an opening, he just had to...

Rawn made a reproving noise and disarmed him in two lightning-fast moves, a heartbeat before he swept Nathan's legs out from under him and sent him crashing to the mat. Before he could recover, the general's knife was at his throat.

"~You are learning,~" Rawn conceded, drawing back and setting the knives down on the mats. "~Slowly, but you are learning.~" He faded almost on the last word, with none of Askani's usual light show.

"Harsh. Owned by a ghost." Haroun said sarcastically.

Nathan blinked, shaking his head as he sat up. "What?" he asked with a helpless smile. "That ghost has--had been doing this for thirty years. I've been learning for a couple of months." He got up, a bit unsteady. "So what did you think?"

"Discarding the theological implications of getting your ass kicked by one of the ghosts in your head, that was impressive." he said with a grin.

Nathan picked up Rawn's knives, then retrieved his, detouring to put them back in the case where they belonged. "And that's just one weapon," Nathan said with an answering grin. "They had longer knives, powers and unpowered versions of the psimitar, things whose names I wouldn't bore you with... and that's only the bladed 'primitive' weapons. And, well, you've seen a little of their unarmed styles already from me."

Haroun nodded. "I have." he said. "I still want to learn them, but I want to do it the old-fashioned way. None of this crap-them-into-your-brain crap. I expect to sweat, bleed, and do it on my own, on my terms. Assuming that you're cool with that, when can we start?"

This was where he was supposed to make with the evil laughter in unison with all his brain-sucking parasites and say something about how all his plans were falling into place. Nathan's grin grew broader, more challenging. "How about right now?"

"No time like the present." he said with a grin of appreciation at his fine multilayered joke. The present, indeed. "What do you have in mind?"

"What you were doing with the knives has a hand-to-hand version, you know," Nathan said teasingly, wondering precisely why he was this delighted by this particular turn of events.

Haroun grinned. "Was that what you were using a while back when we threw down? Because that was impressive stuff. I like to think I'm pretty good at hand-to-hand. I don't take kindly to getting schooled like that."

Nathan nodded. "That would be it," he said cheerfully. "Bet you didn't notice me using patterns that time, did you? They were there..."

"I was a little busy at the time." he admitted. "Besides, given all the times I've put my plastic foot in it lately, I could use a little more discipline in my life. So lead on, O Great Sensei." he said with a grin.