It wasn't too long before Rogan found himself pondering, once again, the strange twists of fortune that seemed to surround his navi and her wardrobe; despite assurances of how isolated she was, and the low chances of coming across anyone else while she was wandering through the network in her underwear, sure enough another navigator came into range of the PET's readings and Rogan spent several moments looking at the reading with a flat expression. His rational mind said there as no such thing as bad luck and misfortune in the tangible, mystical sense... and there was surely and certainly no way that the girl could be orchestrating repeated decency-threatening situations, even if she sometimes seemed to respond in ways that invited further distress. And yet. And yet here it was again. He sighed and shook his head to himself.
“Looks like you've got another incoming, Lyntael. One signal, navigator signature.” He didn't mention that the surface layer scan showed the navi to be at least masculine presenting, for however much that meant amongst navigators – because of course it was. Before he noticed it, his hand had slipped across the controls towards the button needed to immediately pull Lyntael from the situation, just in case.
Lyntael didn't respond to his murmured warning, but subtle as it was he saw her steps slow, and other small shifts in her stance and movement that gave tell to caution and wariness. He kept quiet, but the thought that wouldn't be still in his mind reflected on the change – remembered a time when she might have rushed towards a potential new friend with guileless open excitement. The cause was more than justified, and he knew – even if she was questioning it – that Lyntael was no less gentle and no less kind, for the loss of her naïvety. But even so... His caution grew as the navi made his dramatic entrance in front of Lyntael and challenged her; that he knew her name and was looking for her was more worrisome still, no matter the excuse he gave.
Despite misgivings Rogan help his silence while they talked, using the time to examine the other figure more carefully with what little scanning information the PET itself could retrieve without the extra functions of his probe being online. The suggestion of a 'friendly' duel, however was another red flag that he could not approve of. He told her so in a silent message but his navi seemed determined to push on with the challenge.
Seconds passed as Rogan watched the pair face off then begin to spar; there ought to have been nothing too concerning about it, really, but he could feel a tension and a discomfort all the same. He checked her link again and reassured himself that she was correctly jacked into the network and that the PET's emergency system was online and listening correctly. How had he ever dared to send her into spaces via an unstable emulation before, where a flicker at the wrong time might cost terribly? How had he simple accepted the times that she slipped out onto the net on her own, completely disconnected, where any slip might lead to disaster?
Lyntael... danced. His eyes watched her slight form twist and weave, graceful and in perfect balance as she flowed around the battle, evading and striking out in rapid succession. She seemed... calm, despite the growing ferocity of her charge... almost like she was enjoying herself. The words of her conversation with the other navi washed over him and Rogan pushed down another small wince. She was carefully playing the role of an unoperated navi, for their security, but some of the comments cut at him all the same.
The readings on her PET showed the strain of energy starting to wear painfully on her body, but on screen, Lyntael herself was barely showing any sign of the discomfort it said she was feeling. He wondered if he should be glad, or sorry for that. It was good of course, that she could deal with the pain so much better now, but... His thought was interrupted as he watched Lyntael strike then weave away, twisting her body, but just a fraction too slowly as the other navi landed his first real strike of the match. Her shriek of sudden agony filled his ears and drowned out other thoughts, just as physical damage warnings, fought their way onto the screen.
“Lyntael!” He had shouted across the line before rational thought caught up. “That's enough!!” He barely registered her suddenly denuded form, beneath the violently bleeding cut down her front; her shriek was followed by a more directed, angry shout from the girl – fear, pain and fury, and words that sent a fresh shudder through him. Of course that was where her mind would go, sliced open in violence, by a man with a blade – Rogan's minds quickly filled in the blanks while Lyntael exploded with light and wild electrical surges amidst the suddenly breaking storm. His first call had been to stop the other navi, but he now saw the figure backing off, a look of sudden horror and worry on what he could make out of the navi's features. He hadn't been expecting to case harm like this... and why should he? It wasn't how navis normally worked, after all. Lyntael, on the other hand... in a moment Rogan knew that she wasn't seeing this unfortunate stranger in a friendly match any more, and all unnoticed, the girl had grown far stronger and more dangerous than she really knew.
The sudden fury of her retaliation masked the rising panic he could see she was stuck in, and the brutality with which she battered her opponent wasn't helping it. Rogan swallowed, trying to work his own dry throat and spoke again, clearly, but with a firm and steady voice that he kept from rising.
“Lyntael, listen to me. My voice, Lyntael. You can hear me, listen.” He saw the other navi go down amidst a storm of electricity flaring bright enough to interfere with the PET's visualisation. “Lyntael, Stop. You are not There. That is not Him.” He paused for just a moment, then pressed on. “Calm down, and breath, Lyntael.”
Her form burst into sight again in the middle of the area, and he could see the tension making her limbs tremble, the blood on her body while lightning danced in the wounds and across her skin. Clenched teeth, wide eyes; short, rapid panting.
“Breathe, Lyntael. Just breathe. You are okay. You are not in danger.” And judging from her reaction, she may never really have been so from this warrior. His words seemed to pass over her unheeded for a moment, before he saw her squeeze her eyes shut and draw a deeper, heaving breath while her body sagged and folded in on itself for a moment. All around, Rogan noticed the sudden thunderstorm dissipating as swiftly as it had arrived.
In the moments that followed he made sure the other navi was at least reading stable, even though his main focus was on Lyntael herself. It puzzled him still, the way her own nerves and trepidation seemed to vanish the moment she thought someone else was in more trouble than her, though perhaps that said more about him, that such an ideal seemed so alien. He didn't know whether to be exasperated or resigned when the girl announced that she intended to continue, regardless of the – in his opinion – very many and obvious reasons to stop for the day. She wouldn't brook his objections either, despite the fact that she was actively having to use one arm to cover her decency while dealing with the other navigator.
He found himself cut off, unable to respond as she called out the unfairly pointed fact that, when it really mattered, the people she might have to face again one day were not the sort to wait upon her decency. Rogan fought down another flare of angry nausea, unwillingly drawn to think of the way a certain navi had done the horrific opposite. He didn't have words to answer it. Lyntael probably didn't think she was being cruel – he could tell that it was simply a determined pragmatism in her voice – but reflecting on those events still made him feel ill and ashamed. He lapsed into silence and relented.