soul_logs | A soldier will fight long and hard [OPEN]

There was such a horrid smell when he returned to the city. What had happened? He did not know. However, he would have to believe that the Safety Patrol did as they had promised him -- protected the city. It seemed prudent that he sleep the rest of the night off; something that he had remembered from that little girl's memory in how to heal properly in the hospitals. Nataku wanted to alert Kamui of his safe return, but it would be best to have him not be seen as he was. While he was able to complete the task of killing the kishin that were in his way, he ended up being gravely injured in the process.

But now he was awake. What he saw, it was such a familiar sight. Such a familiar memory. Nataku was not used to actually sitting and waiting to be healed. He was far more "comfortable" with floating within chemicals until he was once more able to move properly. This he thought on quite a bit. Repeated it as he just did not know how to take being on the mend. Being injured in battle was one thing, but sitting in a hospital bed was something else. He could not leave, because it would just cause his injuries to reopen.

Still, if he did not report to Kamui, he wondered if it would be thought that he died. No, he had heard on the DEMISE Network that only one life was lost. That would mean that it would just be a case of elimination as to where he was and why he could not return. His hand rose to lightly set on his shirt just above his heart, twisting the material in his hand. What was this feeling? Why did his heart hurt?

There was a reason behind the robes he wore. More than utility and status, that was; to blend in. The fact that he'd been walking around in it for so long was (in complete honesty) for the familiarity - and for the fact that he hadn't had to go into any sort of crowded places, so 'blending in' wasn't really an issue.

Now, he was in a baggy hoodie and jeans. Walking with a slight, slight limp to the left, movements a bit stiff, hands flitting in and out of the pouch in the font restlessly, but the purpose in even coming into the place was still rather clear with how he beelined for a particular bed. And, alright, the hood of the sweatshirt was up, but it was a compromising sort of thing. For how attentive assassins were supposed to be, he didn't take that much care (he knew, sure. he would've been blind not to).

Compromising had meant skirting around the outside of the clinic until the main rush had all gotten settled with their respective friends, family members, partners and whatever else people were drawn together for. He didn't exactly slip by, but he was silent in getting from hall to room to individual bed, curtains be forgotten.

If Nataku looked, a part of green-brown eyes and the start of a deep frown would be looking back at him.

Or, better yet, looking him over. Altair's own self-check, without comment or motion. He might not have known how to mend something very well, but he did know how to break it-- which was kind of the same, in a way. In a few moments, the start of a frown had turned into a full one. A scowl, even.

And still no words. (ignore the minute relaxation of the shoulders; that didn't mean anything, really).

Tassadar had eventually managed to remove himself from Watson's presence after his examination. What he had revealed to the doctor seemed to concern the aging human to the point where continual follow-ups had been demanded of him. The templar couldn't say he understand the necessity of it, especially after he'd taken the time to meditate on the problem at hand, but Watson had been adamant on the topic and had given little room for refusal.

He made his way back to the area where the warrior knew where Nataku was. The area was cramped for him, but as he made his way through the curtain, he caught sight of his weapon on the bed. Keeping his side of the conversation only to Nataku, Tassadar murmured while approaching the bed, "I apologise for being absent for so long, Nataku."

[Sorry for the delay! T_T ]

Someone? Nataku turned his head to acknowledge the person that had come up to where he rested. It was more the knowledge that he was being watched than actually being aware of anything beforehand. His eyes widened slightly to see that he was right; this person moved so quietly that he did not hear him even approach. It took a few moments (seconds really) before he recognized the person to be Altair.

His head gave a slight tilt to him, wondering why the other was in different attire and why he had not said anything to him. Just as he was about to say anything to him, he heard the approach of his meister. A slight shake of his head as he understood that Tassadar needed to be looked over, or at least, had things that he needed to do. Watson had said something about their partnership that eased any sort of concerns that he would have about the Protoss not being at his side.

"It is fine." He finally said before setting his hand down on the bed to push himself up. An involuntary wince given his stitching was still present but he wanted to get up. Blinking a few times, he swung his legs around to the other side of the bed. "This person is someone that is important to the one who is important to me." Nataku introduced Altair to Tassadar even though he did not feel that he could give the name of the assassin without said man's approval that he could do so.

"Tassadar is a High Templar and once Executor of the Protoss race. He is also my meister." While he supposed the introductions were fine, he did not gesture to either of them. Someone who was observing the scene would not know which one was supposed to be which before Nataku finally pushed himself up to a standing position. He rested long enough and it would be fine to get up, anyway. Why was his body acting so sluggishly? He did not understand it.

"I mean no disrespect by not honoring you first." Nataku turned to the Protoss as he said this before he crossed the short distance so that he could hug Altair. His arms more or less resting on the other's shoulders in a stiff and awkward kind of hug -- not like the one that he had given Tassadar -- because he still was uncertain as to how he should view the assassin. His head gave yet another tilt as he added, "I am home."

By the time Nataku had realized he was there, Altair had finished his look-over, took a brief second to ponder on whether or not to be the one to say the first word, decided he might as well be - there was something about being a 'mentor' that seemed to almost entitle him to it - and opened his mouth. -- And then there were the footsteps of something large approaching, which had his head jerking up toward the source-- and then that something large appeared, and for the first time since arriving in Shibusen, Altair completely froze.

Even Nataku's arms-into-ribbons and watching Adachi tear apart the city hadn't been as startling, and the same with the frogs. Mainly because there, he'd been ready for a fight - here, for once, he most certainly wasn't. He was sore, he was tired, he hadn't tried bringing any knives (he'd only wanted to check in on Nataku). The nurse girl had a few laying around, though, maybe he could grab one of those and get to the creature before it moved again (never mind the fact Tassadar wasn't actually doing anything- it was all leftover 'attack before questioning' mode from the frogs)--

Nataku moved first. That was good. It didn't redirect Altair's eyes (gaze always on the enemy), but the movement took the part of his brain that wasn't panicking and dragged the rest of his mind with it. 'It is fine?' What was that supposed to mean? The boy was stupid, crossed the assassin's mind, moving like that with stitches. And vaguely impressive, but only vaguely. What made him finally stop watching Tassadar as if the alien was going to cleave both of their heads off was the introduction; if Nataku, in his state, wasn't afraid, Altair certainly had no reason to be. Even of demons.

Moments of relaxation were fated to be short-lived that day, it seemed.

High Templar. Templar. Warped, just like everything else in the city, but executor, it all lined up, and Altair had taken a step back and clenched his fists before he'd known what he was doing.

The next strange move didn't help matters any, either. A... hug? Or something like that. Something too odd and out of sorts and Nataku had no idea what a Templar was. Had one for a meister and didn't even know. His fists were still clenched tight, knuckles going white, teeth gritting for a second; then rational caught up, reminded him that he didn't have his knife, that this was a neutral place and Nataku had said something so utterly ridiculous - 'home' - that the assassin finally looked down.

(it helped. it did. he wouldn't admit it under pain of being murdered again, but it did.)

If it had been anyone else, they might have been either shoved or punched, depending on who it was. If it was anyone else, they wouldn't have gotten a very positive response. Actually meeting the eyes and easing his shoulders up a moment long enough to silently communicate that yes, Altair was happy the other had returned, even if it had been with a Templar (that second part was going to be worked on, in the ensuring moments. when he didn't have someone injured hugging him), would never have happened. Verbally, though, his only response was a low-toned, "You should sit back down."

Well. If it was anyone else, they would never have gotten that - it implied concern, after all - either.

He had yet to meet the one who Nataku saw as an important figure to him. While he did have his own opinions on the matter, the templar had chosen to remain quiet on the matter. If this was one of the humans important to Nataku, then he would keep his mind open in regards to this unexpected meeting.

What he wasn't expecting, however, was the sudden sense of hostility he felt on the air.

Tassadar didn't need to read the mind of this human to know what their thoughts were. Their body language alone was reminiscent of the Terran he'd battled against back in his sector of space. While he hardly felt threatened by the unknown man's demeanour, the templar would remain on guard.

Humans always were unpredictable, after all.

It didn't go passed his notice that no such introduction was given in return. While the Terran saw the Protoss unfavourably, they had at least been polite enough to return an exchange of names regardless. The lack of gesture left Tassadar inwardly frowning.

The colour of his eyes momentarily flashed yellow as the templar forced his emotions to quell. His mind was still exhausted from the previous battle that he knew well that his patience level wasn't as high as it usually was. It wouldn't do Nataku well to bring forth the displeasure he felt towards this one, and so he remained silent while observing the situation.

This one obviously held some level of feelings towards his Weapon, and perhaps he was simply intruding on it.

"Now that I see that you are well, I shall take my leave," Tassadar said to his Weapon after a moment before he took a step back to leave. There was little point in remaining while on the receiving end of such hostilities. He knew well that his patience would only last for so long, and Tassadar was in need of further rest and meditation. "If you are in need of me, Nataku, you may reach me on the network."

If he were insulted by Altair's silence to Tassadar, he did not show it. Nataku understood that the assassin simply was not someone who easily spoke with other people. The reasons for why he did not were lost on him, however. It had been why he initiated the introduction or the two of them may have remained silent throughout. That sort of silence was acceptable in its own right, but he also understood enough that it would bring an unknown between them. A barrier which he had kept in place toward the scientists that had created and raised him. But, names were seemingly important to those not like himself; he could go on for years without knowing the names of those around him and not be bothered, but it did not seem to be the same for other people. So, the least he could do was name the two of them to one another as best as he could.

Nataku did, however, take the time to observe Altair and Tassadar, craning his neck between the two. He could sense that there was something wrong; similar to the sensation that he had when a battle was to be had between one of the Seals and himself. A sort of tension in the air that he did not understand. Catching the flash of yellow in the Protoss's eyes, he tilted his head slightly at him – the alien was troubled. Troubled over what? The little that he understood about his own feelings meant that he understood the feelings of others less. The vague look of confusion started on the clone's face as he began to feel troubled over this air. He lightly shook his head – very slow and slight movements that it could almost be mistaken for just an indistinguishable twitch than anything else; he did not want them to be enemies.

However, he did finally meet Altair's eyes with a silent question for his response toward his meister. It also was strange. The way that the assassin responded to his awkward hug reminded him of how he responded to when Karen had hugged him. Such surprise and inability to know exactly what it was that he should do in that situation. The tightening in his chest faded slightly over the easing of the assassin's shoulders, he understood that response as it was what he had toward the Seal. Still, he at least felt that he understood that he was supposed to hold those that he cared for in this manner. He had yet to initiate this sort of contact with Kamui, though, because it had yet to be the "right time."

"I understand." Nataku nodded once as he took his hesitant steps to sit back down on the clinic bed. His shoulders involuntarily lowered; body "happy" to be seated and allowed to rest once more. This momentary relief to be seated was disrupted as he jerked his head upward toward Tassadar when he said that he would leave. His head gave a slight tilt, pained this time rather than not confused. He could understand that the room was a bit too difficult for the Protoss to sit comfortably in, but it still made his heart ache to think that he would leave.

"I understand." He repeated the phrase to the alien, before adding. "And I will do as you say." His gaze shifted toward the side, uncertain want to do about the pain. It was some emotional response; not conflict like he had felt during that battle which brought him to this city, not jealousy, not worry. What is it? Closing his eyes, he opened them to say. Do what it was that his heart said that he should do; say what it said that it wanted.

"Do not fight." This request was meant for both Altair and Tassadar. They were fighting on some plane that he could not understand, and it was unacceptable.

Flashing yellow eyes? No, Altair wasn't comfortable - rather wishing he'd brought his knives, in all honesty, even if they were completely ruined from that one use during the attack - but if he focused in on the neutral party of the area, keeping the (large, very noticeable) Templar in his peripheral vision, the instincts to fight or flee died to a second priority level (that out-of-place hug might've contributed, too). Again, he felt as if he was hearing only one side of the conversation, but it was enough; the backpedaling of the giant, the fact that Nataku sat back down. Actually... That latter meant he'd only gotten up for one thing. And that wince on sitting back down meant that those injuries - as Altair'd thought - weren't healed in the least.

What a strange, strange child.

Saying another needless thing. They were in a clinic; the assassin wouldn't fight anyone in a place of true healing. It was a good thing he'd reigned in his automatic response by then: while he might've disregarded Nataku's words, he had paid attention to the body language. It was... the sort of look he supposed he'd seen mothers give their sons when they went to travel. Annoying, to have it employed where he felt the tiniest amount of need to do something about it ('Tassadar' was his Meister, he had a right-- Nataku obviously wanted the thing to remain-). Unfortunately, his pride held him back.

And would've continued to hold him back, had it been a few weeks previous. Instead, after a few seconds, something allowed, "Stay," to slip out. Directed at the Templar, with the smallest shift of weight to his right foot, another pause. Further, with an abortive wave of the hand. "If you have no other concerns to attend to. You haven't been able to see him since the mission, have you?"

Not through gritted teeth, thankfully; it was the shred of manners and discipline Al Mualim had managed to drill into his skull during the more early lessons, a peace offering. He might've still looked wary, but the hostility was toned down considerably. Forced down.

He'd come to make sure the boy was alive (and how grievous those wounds were, of which the answer he didn't exactly enjoy). Maybe this way, the templar would ask the questions-- save him having to phrase them.

Tassadar held every intention of leaving when Nataku replied to his words. Normally such a sign of silent disrespect was something he wouldn't react to, but the physical and mental exhaustion had left his patience thin. That was why it was best to seek out isolation to rest and recover his full strength.

He had begun to shift around before he heard the observant request his weapon made. There was doubt within his mind that it wouldn't come to such an extreme level, not within such an establishment anyway, but had it been anywhere else, the templar wasn't quite certain. He was within human territory, and while he worried not about being among them, Tassadar knew well that caution would be best used while here.

Softly glowing eyes pierced through the enclosed area as Tassadar's attention rolled back over towards Altair at the man's words. There were always other concerns to focus his mind on, but most did not relate to the city or the other citizens in general. He wouldn't allow for his mind to wander, however, and pushed aside the unanswered questions as he focused on the other in the area.

"This is the first time, yes," Tassadar murmured with a hint of caution in his tone before his attention shifted over to Nataku. The gesture his weapon had shown the other spoke volumes to how much of an attachment Nataku had towards this one despite the uncomfortable aura surrounding Altair. "You are of the same world?"

The atmosphere had not change between them, but their words had. Or rather, Altair was talking to Tassadar. His head gave a slight tilt as he was not certain that he understood exactly why the two were responding to each other in kind. He supposed that they were honoring his request that they do not fight with one another -- on whatever plane that they are doing so -- but he still did not understand the reasoning behind the initial feeling. Why were they holding back? For what purpose? Why were they displeased with the other's presence?

He turned his head slightly to the Protoss at the question. "No, he is not from my world." Nataku realized that it was difficult to say that Altair was important to his important person if that were the case. Closing his eyes, he sorted his thoughts out carefully in his explanation. "This man has been invited many times over to the place which I stay, at hours that guests are generally not allowed. He is no longer a guest but someone to be viewed in a different manner."

A pause.

"But I do not know what manner that is." Altair was more Kamui's than he was his. The feelings that the clone had for him were based on what he had seen his surrogate father have. For whatever reason, he was endeared by the teenager. It was difficult to be seen in this light, and so, Nataku was willing to see him in that light as well. "I do not know what he is to me," He continued, calmly. Trying to say that he had no name for him within the surrogate family, or if he was a teammate. Of course, teammates were not really cared for one way or the other amongst the Dragons of Earth.

Kamui said to do what they like, which may or may not entail saving the lives of those that they were destined to fight alongside. They need not fight as one. They need not do anything together. The one meeting which they had, might as well have been their only one if those were the feelings amongst the group. So, Altair could not be considered a "teammate." "But he is important." The thought was finished aloud.

When he'd swallowed his pride long enough to tell the Templar to stay, he hadn't meant for Nataku to begin speaking about those matters. But maybe he should have expected it - Kamui was right in that the boy really had no filter between what he said and what he thought, evidently, aside from the ones he'd been directly told about-- and even then, it was only leaving as unnamed (appreciated, that, though Altair wouldn't say so. the last thing he needed was to become public knowledge). Vague. Not nearly vague enough to dissuade anyone from prying.

The disquiet Altair got over that re-realization left, though, as the other continued; the assassin's gaze went from meeting Tassadar's to drifting back to the wounded, as lightly curious as it was apprehensive. It overtook most of his hostility, at least-- he wasn't relaxing, still ready to react on a moment's notice, but it wasn't right to call him angry.

No. At the end of that - 'he is important' - there was a brief flash of what might have been called embarrassment.

Shown only in another shifting of weight, gaze almost snapping back to Tassadar. On one level, he saw it as an obvious thing-- he had been training the boy, after all, so of course he'd be important; on another level, it was either dangerous or good, to admit this in front of the Templar; and on a final and smaller level, the stark truth in Nataku's words made him want to cover it all up in his own way (the boy really had no filter. this wasn't something to say in a public setting, especially with him right there). Maybe it would have been comforting and pleasant, if Altair had been anyone else.

But he wasn't. So.

Shifting and silence, taking it like he'd take the insults the rafiq would hand out when they were too bored to give him his work immediately (even if it wasn't the same, at all). Seeing how the Templar took the words, too-- if they really meant anything, or if this partnership was how he'd imagined most partnerships to be.

If so, he'd inform Kamui. That man could decide what he wanted done with his charge.

Human customs were still as much of a mystery to him now as they were before he'd directly interacted with them in the Koprulu sector of space. He was aware of Nataku's difference when it came to most other humans, Raynor and his Raiders had been quite socially adept while the same could be said to most others here, but there were still the fundamental emotions buried deeply within his weapon's mind.

"If he is important to you, Nataku--" Tassadar began before pausing momentarily to obtain his thoughts. He knew well the result of looking passed your own thoughts and misconceptions when it came to another, and it wasn't anything that he'd discourage his weapon to do. In fact, just hearing Nataku's answer showed him that the young clone was learning, and that was all that mattered to the templar. Inclining his head subtly towards his weapon, the protoss said, "Then you will eventually discover what light you will regard him in."

Speaking of such things reminded him of Zeratul, but it was a thought he pushed back into his mind. Such thoughts were best left untouched given the circumstances.

"I see." Nataku had been hoping that Altair would be able to say what it was that he was to him. It was strange to see the man be so quiet. He was as quiet as the clone was, unless otherwise prompted with questions, but this silence seemed much different.

His head had given a few tilts at the stares that he had been given. He was not quite understanding what social cue he was supposed to catch -- to cease speaking? For what purpose? He was answering a question as complete as possible for someone who was curious. It merely seemed like something that he should do. If there was a short answer, he would give a short answer. But if the explanation required a few more words, he saw no reason not to give them. Or was it that Altair was just as conflicted as he was to decide what he was to Nataku? To Kamui? Was it that the man never thought of these things and were now given them thought? Either way, the clone was uncertain.

"I was not listed among the dead." The clone shifted topics. It was not because he was aware that he was touching on something that was troubling Altair. He merely gave his answer and felt that the matter was closed on the subject. "You knew that I had survived." The statement was directed at both his meister and the man. "Why is it that you came to see me? For what reason? To ensure that I will continue to live through the night?

"I will." He was quick to answer the last of the questions, if those were their concerns. "The injuries will be healed soon by what those two had done to me. I can feel things mending." Even if he felt weak on all fronts. Still, he still felt a warm feeling in his chest that they were at his side. Still felt warm that they had come at all. Nataku did not understand it, and did not mean to give the impression that he did not desire their presences. It was only that he could not understand their thought processes.

"So, why?"

August 23, 2009 - Monday

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EGH. why do I go tl;dr. asfjnjkh I seriously apologize. |X;;

AND I TOTALLY THOUGHT THAT I HAD TAGGED THIS! Sorry guys T_T

LET'S ALL TL ; DR!

LET'S ALL.... forget to track this thread askjgnjkhnk HHGGG I'm sorry guys! DX;; Extremely.

And totally fail over this end. Damn RL getting in the way =|

No worries, you guys!

\o/!

<3

♥

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