Scene #1936: Old Friends

Owner	Pose
Nathan Hall	Nathan Hall looks kind of awful these days. It's the 'recovering' sort of look, in a sense; he looks a bit sickly and a bit thin but there's a kind of vitality returning to him. Circles are fading from under his eyes and he seems like he's trying to eat, judging by the location. There sure isn't much energy though, there's a palpable air of exhaustion. He's in casual street clothes, rather than the usual adventuring outfit. He's picked out a restaurant -- someplace with a nice cozy sort of atmosphere -- to grab a burger in one of the booths while he meets with Nine. He's arrived punctually early; he'll already be sitting around at the moment, apparently in a contemplative sort of state, just staring down at the table in front of him. The expression on his face is the same stoic lack of emotion as Nathan always shows, though. In a way, that's comforting. He has thankfully made sure that the seats are heavy-duty enough for Nine. It's a place that sometimes serves heavy-size demons, so both the menu and the accomodations are enough to deal with Nine, one hopes. He is waiting rather patiently, without restlessness; he's got no urge to order until Nine gets here, and him getting here should be easy to see. The right lens of his glasses is fractured. He does not seem to mind.
No. 9	Nathan's not the only one recovering, though he'd put down a good chunk of change it was for different reasons. He himself is a little wasted looking, a general sort of meager haggardness to his body, his skin waxen, sallow and pale, lending his normally leathery brownish flesh more of a sandy cast. It's pretty well impossible to tell if his own eyes are ringed, due to the dark stained black pits of his eye sockets. But he's freshly cleaned and as well as he can possibly be, as he eases into the booth across from his bestest best friend. There's a bit of a wince, his cybernetics of course having been replaced a little while ago to accomodate the fact that his arms and legs had been severed rather higher on his body then they'd been initially, the limbs more elegant then the clunky things of before. His eyes are a dim brown, but brighten to a soft honey color upon seeing his friend, a grin spreading in that ugly, leathery flesh. "Heyyy Nathan, it's... so, good t' see you again man." His voice is soft, "You look like shit, man, you been sick? Gettin enough food, sleep?" Suddenly concerned; and guilty. The head tilts. "...Yer glasses r' broken."
Nathan Hall	"Nine." Nathan says in that familiar monotone, looking up. He seems a little more at ease, though how precisely isn't quite clear. It's a warm feeling. "I see the many months have had an effect on you as well. I hope this year is finding you well, though." He tilts his head, confused and curious briefly though still blank-faced, then says, "Ah, I know what you are referring to. There was recently a conflict that I was engaged in, which necessitated my use of the hours I typically use for sleep and eating. I designed several alchemical stimulants to function in lieu of them, but I ensured their consumption would not last long enough to cause any permanent harm. I appreciate the worry, but I am restoring my sleep schedule and eating habits now that the conflict has passed."
Nathan Hall	He does consider the last statement for a moment, though, as if not comprehending, and then removes and examines them. "Ah." He says. "I damaged them due to a brief magic control failure, when I surrendered. I keep forgetting to put in an order to replace them. It is not causing any substantial difficulties at this time, however." Unfolding them again, he slips them back on and adusts them in that usual academic way.
Nathan Hall	"I am typically blind without them, but I can easily make due with just the one lens." He seems to settle down. Wait-staff come by offering to take orders for drinks, and Nathan will be ordering just water as per the norm. "I notice you have your own particular alterations yourself, somewhat more... Substantial in their apparent change. Damage, or something more controlled and less painful." He makes a soft sort of worried noise. As always, prioritizing Nine as worth worrying about, at least.
No. 9	The Golem rubs his face. "Well, yeah, sure, why not." Evidently it hasn't found him well, though he's a bit uncomfortable about it, evidently. He looks up, his expression dangerous, "Sumthin was makin you miss sleep, food? Nate-" He stops himself before he starts haranging his friend. That wouldn't be cool, it's already passed, and he's not here to bitch Nathan out.
No. 9	His face is a little concerned still, even when he keeps his lips pressed together, not wanting to ask questions. But after a moment, "Well, you, should- it aint good fer yer eyes, havin t' read through sumthin, yannow. Is not good fer ya." A slow shake of the head, and he looks down. "I'd say 'lotta things been happenin' but in truth they aint." A glance up. "Oh, uh, I'll have sum..." pouring over the menu, "Strawberry lemonade, thanks." A glance up, to Nathan, and then down at his arms. "Oh that, tha wus from when whassername, Samael ripped my arms n' legs off. Taro did a good job on em. Tha wus a lil while ago, though, if I rem'ber c'rrectly." He rubs his face, his hair, as though confused, as though momentarily losing what time it is, what day it is. A glance up. "You been goin through a lotta shit? Folks been okay t' you? You deserve respect man, n' bein taken care of, since you sumtimes fergit t' do it yerself."
Nathan Hall	"Mmm." Nathan makes a soft noise and seems to churn his words in his mind for a while before he speaks up. "Samael. I have heard of them, albeit distantly." He shakes his head. "Unfortunate. I am glad to hear that Taro has assisted you effectively. That you have good friends helping you is what I comfort myself with when it comes to the troubling things I know of your work and history." Then the other issue seems to get some consideration...
Nathan Hall	There's a long pause before he speaks up properly. "I have been... Dealing with a great amount of difficulty, yes." He says. His expression doesn't shift, but he does rub his forehead in a kind of mild display of stoic frustration. "I... Believe that people certainly think they are doing what is best for me, at least. THere is some conflict on the subject, recently, about what that means, precisely. As for the matter of respect," He makes a broad, plaintive, almost helpless sort of gesture. "There is even more uncertainty, in a way. It will resolve itself, I suppose. As mentioned, I have surrendered in the relevant conflict."
No. 9	He looks down at the tabletop. "He's been a good friend. Since he's right there all th' time fer me, sumthin not a lotta folks coulda done, I, well..." How to talk about this. He doesn't want to worry Nathan, but he's not good at lying or making bullshit up. Ah, fuckit. Don't lie to your friends. "Turns out th' whole immortality thing they sold a lotta us on on the GOLEM Neoteny conversion thing is kinda bullshit. Without a lotta imput from folks, say in a situation where there was an ended world without th' folks what used t' run things weren't there anymore n' there were just NMCs and ANMCs? Turns out we were designed t' sort of just... go t' sleep, n' starve t' death in our slumber, Iunno, sumthin like that. Turns out if I aint kept up in my engagement, I get sleepy n' fall inta more n' jest a hunger torpor, I jest start goin all rip von winkle over 'ere." Worrisome, yes.
Nathan Hall	Nathan makes a worried noise. "I believe I understand." Nathan says, with a soft sort of tone. "That is... Mmmmh. It is profoundly worrying. I imagine the year you spent with nonlethality had a... Detrimental effect, in that case." His expression does not change, but Nine's known him long enough and close enough to see a gently somber sort of emotion move through him. It's not depressed, overworried, or distressed, simply respectfully melancholy. "You are a good friend, Nine. You know what objections I have to the work you do, but regardless, I hope you find mitigation. I have... Missed you. Not that you have failed to be around when I need or anything such as that, I can make due, but your company and support is something I miss."
No. 9	His mouth opens... and then he pauses, looking down and confused. "Actually I aint thought of that before." A worried, thoughtful sort of frown. He looks up. "...I've missed you too man. I'm sorry I, I guess I thought... I dunno what I thought. I guess I felt I wasn't needed..." he looks up. "I was needed though. You needed me. Like I needed you. I'm sorry."
No. 9	"And as for th' rest of it, whoever th' fuck is givin you a hard time..." His face is thin and his eyes flat, ugly and sharp and angry. "Jest lemme know who n' I'll motherfuckin eat their FACE OFF." Hiss, snrl, his teeth are bared and his shoulders tense, head down and eyes bright and hard, ugly. He slaps the tabletop. "And as for things resolvin itself? You should fuckin wipe the map of them, you should, should fuckin throttle annaone what gives you shit, man! Or at least let someone else do it."
Nathan Hall	"You need not apologize for your own emotions. I hold myself to a high standard on the subject, but it is profoundly difficult for anyone, especially you, to hold that sort of perspective." Nathan says, and then there's an odd sort of tremble in his posture when Nine discusses what he should do. "You have my assurance that I have thought, a great deal, about doing so." Nathan says. There's an odd noise, almost like sparking? But it's gone as soon as it's there. "Unfortunately, I lack the strength to act against the people I care about in that particular way, or the strength to withstand the associated guilt were I to have someone like you do so."
Nathan Hall	"As such, surrender is the option that will be causing the least amount of pain to me." He says, making that sort of plaintive gesture again. "One must know when to fold, at times, and understand when adhering to principles will simply cause more pain than is worth it." He sighs a bit, heavily. "I can assure you that the emotional support is much more useful, in this case, than any other... More direct actions." He looks unsettled when he accepts the water that's brought to him, sipping only slightly and with that palpable sense of exhaustion again.
No. 9	Profoundly difficult, yes. Heart on is sleeve, and then his sleeve got shredded when his arms and legs got torn most of the way off. He's never been one for control, more, the, entirely opposite. He's been mistaken for a berzerker before because of the severity of that opposite. He's very, intent, though, on the words, on the expressions; the pauses, the breathing, the little odd sounds. "Nathan, TALK to me. What's goin on? Yer startin t' worry me, like, seriously dude, like real bad." He's sort of shaky, watching his friend, little metallic bits in his arms making soft zzzzh sounds as his fingers tighten and release, tighten and release, and such is his intense concentration that when the waitress comes up, "Here you two go-" There's a harsh barking "HYEAHEAH-" and the Golem is damn near crawling up the wall, sprawled across the booth. Shitshitshitshitshit-
No. 9	A blink. "Surrender?" His hands SLAM down, nearly upsetting his water. "SURRENDER? Why the FUCK, should you SURRENDER. You're NATHAN FUCKING HALL. Your life is your own and FUCK anyone who thinks they have the RIGHT to throw ANY pressure on you. You're the most selfless guy I know, the most dedicated sonovabitch I've ever even SEEN man, and if someone is taking ADVANTAGE of that, they're taking advantage of your good name and personality and your integrity and- shit. FUCK. Fucking HELL man, someone is fucking USING you, that aint /cool/."
Nathan Hall	Nathan makes a rather meek sort of noise at that, and almost seems to retreat a moment. The issue with the waitress is ignored, for the most part; Nathan focuses more on the issue more at hand. "It is... It is complicated." He says, still keeping the monotone but seeming just a little unsteady. "My dedication, as high as you may think it is, is not adequate to..." He looks down, briefly. "To act as I would very much like to, and to do anything else but to surrender, would be to harm the people I care about most. I am unable to do so."
Nathan Hall	"The individuals I refer to -- the ones who have forced this matter to a surrender on my part -- are doing so because they believe it is best for me. I cannot fathom why, but it seems to not be my place to know." Nathan hangs his head a bit. "To answer your question of what is going on, the most simplified answer is that those I trust most appear to be collaborating with my enemy. They seem to be doing so because they believe it is best for everyone involved." He makes a helpless sort of noise, and a helpless sort of gesture. "I believe they regret doing so, but they will not cease, and so to continue with what I wish to do will cause them harm. It would cause too much pain for me to do that."
Nathan Hall	"The strength you typically see from me, in terms of dedication, is simply because I have trustworthy friends to support the gesture. I... Simply do not have them, in this case. And so I am too weak to sustain that sort of damage, and therefore surrender out of necessity. I do not think they mean to use me. Rather, from my perspective they are being used." He leans back and sighs, heavily. "But I am unable to muster the strength to act against them now. That is all."
No. 9	Not adequate? Not ADEQUATE? YOU?" He's making it worse. He doesn't want to make it worse and he's making it worse, dammit. This is- this isn't right. He isn't right. The situation isn't right. He's starting to get agitated, that slightly neurotic sort of edge to him, making him shifty and rangy and unstable, jaws grinding hard. "Yer a good man Nate, yer onna th' best, and whoever is doin this to ya aint no good. If they dun know what they're doin, they should be made aware, n' if they do... they should /suffer/ fer their insuboardination, they should HURT for their-" You're making it worse Nine, stoppit.
No. 9	He looks up, and he looks haggard, shaken, and tense- his hand though, as always, is careful, careful, closing around his fingers with a little mechanical whining wheeze. "...You have me. I'm sorry I abandoned you fer as long as I did, lost in dreamless sleep n' emptiness, I am, but you HAVE ME, you have one good friend who will do ANYTHING for you, no matter what it is, man, you know me! You know what I kin do, n' you know I'm /here/ for you."
Nathan Hall	Nathan looks somber again, in his stoic way. "You did not abandon me, Nine. This has been... Beyond your reach, I believe, in a sense that leaves you entirely blameless in the debacle. Your support, it helps a great deal, of that much I can assure you." The gentle hand is accepted, and seems to comfort him greatly. There's no visible indication, but Nine has known Nathan long enough to be able to feel these things intuitively.
Nathan Hall	"I know who is doing this to me. I do not believe they have any good intentions. I also believe it is..." He looks away, making a gently distressed sound. "I do not blame my friends and allies for what they are doing. It is my belief that they are being manipulated by one with less ethical restraint than myself. But they have chosen her over me, and... I want to continue, but surrendering, but in this scenario, that would involve hurting them more than I can help." He makes that same sort of plaintive gesture again. "I have some relative certainty that the schemes I oppose will not be lethal to them. I simply need to take the loss with some poise, otherwise the damage will be too extensive."
No. 9	His face is grim. "I would argue with ya there, but seems like you've had enough arguin fer one day." Which doesn't preclude him arguing, mind, just /right now/. A hand goes atop the other, two good friends showing support, even if one is the general of the Union and the other is an ugly creep of a known Confederate, fuckit. He does sense the comfort; the microrelaxation of small muscles, not to mention the very mild biochemical hints his nose can pick up over the scent of lemons and strawberries. He nods, but then, a pause, a blink. Her? He looks over at his friend, but his hands never waiver, nor does his open, avid support.
No. 9	A deep breath, the eyes closing. "Sumtimes you need to take a moment and see where you rally stand." The eyes open, and his face is tight and grim. "...You have one friend, who will stand by you, no matter what. Don't you forget that, don't you ever forget that, and don't let them ever stop you. Stay true to your heart, to who you ARE Nathan, never forget that. Not ever."
Nathan Hall	"I will not forget." Nathan assures, with a soft tone and only the most gentle sort of stoicism. "I have said before, and I believe it bears repeating. Having you to... Help. Having you here to assist, to ease the distress, it relieves my stress a great deal." He looks down once again, but this time at the hands, focusing on them. "It has been some time since I felt the distress that comes with a situation like this, and it happened... Very comprehensively, very suddenly. It felt quite isolating. I do not think it would do me good for you to use the methods you know to assist, but for you to be there at all, is a great deal of help to me."
Nathan Hall	The hand trembles so subtly that only Nine's most delicate sensors would be able to pick that up. "There are few such allies I can depend upon, either because of the shame of asking them or because of the foolishness of giving them trust while this happens. Even if I could, I think I would not act. Like I said: I am not sure I can bear the stress of hurting my friends that way. But having someone to rely upon does a great deal for me."
No. 9	A grin. "So I get t' sit here n' look pretty n' give ya a stone t' stand on. I kin do that." A rough, bubbling snicker. He nods. "Alright. When th' situation is complicated, sumtimes it is better not th' have th' big violent guy blunderin through makin a mess a things. Fair enough, fair enough." He looks deep into Nathan's eyes, his own so ugly, so strange and dark, stained and uncanny in a weathered, hideous face.
No. 9	His hand tightens. Never enough to hurt, but enough to make sure he feels the squeeze. "You, never, never ever, feel shame in askin me fer sumthin. Not ever. You get me? Not. Ever. We're the best of friends, man, and you know I got your back, no matter what. There aint nothin you could ask me that I wouldn't do my damnedest t' do. And if there's annathin you can think of that you need frum me? Jest ask, man. And until then? You know I'm here for you. Which is, redundant, me bein redundant but fuckit. You aint been in a good place a late and it aint no good, it aint no good a'tall. You /worry/ me Nathan, you worry me a lot. But I'm here for ya. I got yer back."
Nathan Hall	Nathan pauses, and it's a long, meaningful pause. "There is a time I may need to call on you. A time very soon." His monotone breaks a little, softly bringing into it the sort of tone that someone would use to talk about a funeral or something. "To ensure my survival, in a way. I do not know if it will be necessary, or if I can make the call, but..." His shoulders tense up. "You will not be here for only the purpose of your presence itself." There's that weird spark noise again, and Nathan looks a little nauseous, but only for a moment.
Nathan Hall	"You can rest assured that helping me to... address the issue at its core, through your traditional methods, it is an idea which appeals to me more than it ever should, a frightening fact." He looks away, to the side a moment. "Perhaps when I am stronger. But... More than all that, your concern for my wellbeing helps. That anyone cares and acts on that fact makes me grateful and eases my stress. It had been too long since we had spoken; stewing in my own isolation is not good for me. Neither for you, though. If you find yourself troubled by your nature again, please speak to me. You know how willing I am to work to help."
No. 9	Nine nods, looking at his friend. "It had better not be, but I understand." Sometimes folk do crazy things. He'd do anything to protect Nathan, but it's hard to protect him against himself, especially if he thinks he needs to do something. He nods- but at the spark, he looks a little nonplussed. "...Nathan? Nathan buddy what's wrong, yer like- are you okay?"
No. 9	But at the comment about his normal methods being the preferred ones here, and how much that shakes up Nathan, suddenly things go from serious time to Really Serious Time, and he runs comfoting fingers over his friend's hand before taking a drink of the fruit infused lemonade, crunching ice as he listens. "That anyone cares and acts on that fact." It's stated flatly, his voice thin and tight, caught in a look of extreme disapproval. He nods. "I will have t' think on this idea that my nature n' denyin it might've aided in the downslide I've experienced of late. I will have to. But this? This occupies my mind far more Nate. Watchin you, listenin t' you talk? It's worrisome, thass for sure."
Nathan Hall	Nathan makes an uneasy noise. "Apologies, that noise is a difficulty I have been having. I am going to be seeing an expert on the matter. It is nothing that needs worry on your part, I believe." He says, making a gesture that attempts to look dismissive but winds up looking very unsteady. "There are many things to those like us when our true nature is twisted and distorted. In a way, your problem and my own have a similar nature. There is clear distinction between a distortion of our nature and a growth of it."
Nathan Hall	"If you do find that your... Progressive behaviors were an impeding element, then it is the sign that you are suffering problems similar to those I am." Nathan says. It's clear, a bit, that he's trying to frame this more academically, to distance himself a little from the issue. It's clear he's gotten a little uncomfortably close to the problem. Nine getting a little more academic in his own mannerisms helps too. "You and I are quite similar in many ways. One of them is that we are extremely genuine people. We do not deal well with enforced inauthenticity."
Nathan Hall	"To act in a way that is not what you are, whatever that may be, to divide your actions from what you know is right for you... Is difficult. Surrendering is not something I wanted to do, and everything about my identity makes me regret it. That is why I am scared of employing you in the way I want; in some ways, that is less true to what I am than simply surrendering." And then there's a long silence. "I will not ask you not to worry. But I would urge consideration for your own trouble as well. It is not as unlike mine, perhaps, as it may be thought. Part of who you are is simply defined as being a Shadow Government warrior. With their loss comes a loss of self. Perhaps you might find benefit in a new employer that is similar to them. Just as I will, eventually, find benefit in the equilibrium I hope to find once the scheme of my opponent has concluded."
No. 9	"Nothing that needs t' be worried-" he seems a bit taken aback, but evidently is not intent on at the exact moment pushing the issue. Nathan's been pushed enough. It's hard though, it's so hard, and obviously hard, seeing his unsteady nature, the type of weakness that seems to suffuse him. His voice is thin. "All things grow, all things change. Sumtimes the pain of remaining trapped in the bud outweighs the pain it takes t' blossom. Cancer is growth too, a growth unchecked, but I think thass your call t' make now innit? Iss yer life, right? S' yer fuckin life Nate, don't let nobody run yer life fer you but you. Yer life, yer destiny. You earned it."
No. 9	Nine is eyeing him now, his expression thoughtful. "Sumthin's got you riled. Sumthin serious." He nods. "Astute, and accurate. 'Enforced inauthenticity', no. You gotta be you, man, you gotta be you I gotta be me, and you earned it, through sweat n' blood n' starin at stupid sheets for hours, days, weeks atta time. You done a lot for these people."
No. 9	A blink, then, breath sliding out in a heaving, seething hiss, he drops the words, like books on a table. "I, don't, need, them. I just need to be needed. I just need t' be what I am and for that t' matter, t' mean sumthin." He's shaking a bit, snapping his head to the side a bit. "I -I, I, I'll do what I can, what I... I'll..." He's breathing heavy, hand on his head. A finger up. A moment. And a shaky drink of his drink. "Don't think on that Nine don't go thar, c'mon man." Another shaky breath, and he nods. "I'll be, fine." Yeah, just like Nathan'll be fine.
Nathan Hall	"Mmmm. I know growth well. But in a way I have not studied it." Nathan says. He fidgets, gently, and once again somewhat meekly. "But I believe what I mean. That inauthenticity is our bane. You want to do what your identity will compel, and you want it to mean something, be valued by someone. I... Well. I had no shortage of that, myself. Up until recently."
Nathan Hall	"But you are right. You do not need to go there, and think on that particular subject. Identity will do as identity is, eventually. My troubles are on a time limit, but yours are not. Your solution will make itself known in time. You will find someone who can value what you do, and who you are, authentically. When the trouble I am dealing with resolves -- in my victory or in my defeat -- I will still resume my place as what I was. That is not in question. Seek a place in the multiverse and you will find one eventually. There are still many people in great need of a soldier like yourself, I am sure." Nathan says, with an easygoing gesture but still the same solidly stoic tone.
No. 9	"You got me. And it aint much but it- it's something. I'm here. Even if ya need t' talk. And I won't throw my stupid judgments at you. I'll jest listen. N' we can have sumthin t' eat and jest, relax." He settles back to do just that, sipping his drink...