The Story
Big Red Two: Asuka Does it Again (NGE)
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Part 1: In Which there are Boats
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
Your name was Asuka Langley Sohryu, and you were an EVA pilot. You were also nervous as hell, since you were a pilot and being cooped up on an aircraft carrier for two weeks now was getting real damn old. Sure, it was nice that you got to spend time not practicing or going to school or working on a lecture, but by God did it get boring. Even the double-edged blade that was tormenting Kaji was wearing thin, since he was getting rather skilled at hiding in places you couldn't go. Even the regular trips over to check on 0-2 didn't salve your boredom since all you were allowed to do was a cockpit check. Then again- did you really want to do a dive?
"Mama?"
"What- what did they do? My precious doll, what did they do!"
"Mama, what do you mean? You look, you look so blurry-"
"You monsters! I made her, and you ruined her! My poor doll, don't worry, we'll have you right as rain soon. Mama will make it better, don't worry. Don't worry."
Fingering your neck, you decide against it. You didn't always remember Synchronization very well, despite the warning you heard in it. False memories and monsters would dance through your head hours afterwords, images of white demons shaped like an Evangellion and their spears a nightmare as old as piloting to you. A flicker of pain danced through the left of your skull, enough to make you stumble. It would pass.
The trip to Japan, while being a pain in the neck, at least was interesting when you weren't stuck in your room trying to focus on kanji. The fact you were The Second Child was a powerful tool to go and to do things you'd never thought of before, and the people of this ship understood the power you possessed. The pomp and circumstance might have been a tad below what you wanted, but for the most part officers weren't people. It would be nice, though, to have someone's company on this trip, as the long hallway stretched out in front of you. Moving forward doggedly, you finally got to the hanger, and from there on to one of the lifts to the flight deck. The sun felt good on your skin, and the wind brought a smile to your face. It was a good day.
"So you're waiting on a woman too?" Kaji asked, walking up next to you. Flicking your crimson hair, you arched an eyebrow.
"Only if you're interested in some dramatic lifestyle choices, Kaji." you purred back. Flirting with him was hard, so by now you'd learned that the best way to handle it was to dangle some bait and see if he'd catch. As another twinge of pain went through your head, you took a moment to sigh. The spray must not be playing well with your eyepatch again.
"The Evangellion had a backflow incident. Not as severe as with her mother, but the contamination effects were… interesting."
"Interesting?"
You whimpered as the doctors talked. Your head was on fire, and when the air conditioner kicked in the remains of your socket tingled. It was like an ice-pick to the brain, what was left of your optic nerve spasming and showing you colors never painted by man.
"It superimposed a physical matrix onto her, like a sympathetic injury."
"Sympathetic injuries are sympathetic, though, not real flesh-and-blood wounds."
"We caught an interesting wave pattern- maybe the Evangellion sent something back. Equivalent exchange, maybe?"
"That machine cost her an eye!"
"If we've moved from her mother's mind to her daughter's eye, then I'd call that progress. We need to find if there was backflow into her, though, or it'll all be for nothing."
"I said, how are you feeling about meeting the Third Child?" Kaji repeated himself, watching your slight wince as a sprayed wave got too close to your face.
"Like it's about time I had someone worthy to bask in my radiance."
"Now that's the Third Child I know. You know, though, the key to a good relationship is a strong first impression. Think about what you want your appearance to say when he gets here."
You looked down at your third-rate ratty blue jeans and Ammon Amarth t-shirt that you'd washed so thin you could see the neon green sports bra on under it, before looking at Kaji.
"That's today?" you asked, voice small.
"That's in about an hour."
Several heads swiveled as you began a claxon wail. "What do you mean I only have an hour?! Do you know how long it takes to do my hair? Why do you do this to me, Kaji! I thought you loved me?!"
"As a little sister, maybe." Kaji muttered, pointing at the superstructure. "I'll make sure to page you when we see their chopper, don't worry."
Damn your headache, you had to look your best. Getting back to your room in record time, you stripped down and hopped in the shower. You had an hour, ten minutes of which were gone. Great, that meant no soak, and honestly you wouldn't be washing your hair if you had literally any other option. As it was, you only had time for the basics- shampoo, conditioner, and then a teatree oil moisturizer that was about the only thing you'd found to let you get away with wet hair without some loving brush time. God, working a snarl out was an act of surgery sometimes. Either way, you got in and out of the water in record time, before putting on some classic Motörhead on the cassette player while you dug through your closet. It would need to be something light with the coming mid-day sun, and it needed to be something that made you look good. It wasn't looking good, though: you only had three skirts unpacked? Oh well- one of them was a lemon-yellow sundress that shouldn't look too saturated in the South Pacific sun. Pulling open a special case, you pulled off your plain black eyepatch, and shook out your eye socket carefully, eyelid flapping. Grimacing, you picked out a crimson patch chosen to blend with your hair, before pulling out a thin plastic rib and sliding it into the back. It would keep your eyelid from making too much mischief if the patch was slightly offset, and it would keep things comfortable when you put in your spacer tonight. Settling in with your A-10 clips, you pulled out your rough comb to get to work on your hair.
"Asuka Soryu, helicopter arriving. Asuka Soryu, helicopter arriving."
Damn shit fuck mother of god arg retarded copter pilots go die in a whirlybird hole. Working the comb out, you fluffed your top layer one last time and made for the elevator. You made it to the flight deck just as the battered old Hind came in for a final approach, As it landed, you stared at the doors intently. First out was Misato, of course, and then came a complete musclebound hunk. A slight smirk came to your face, as the ghost of satisfaction tinged with sadness rolled across in a phantom memory. He got what was coming to him, even if the specifics were still locked in the Pandora's Box that was your EVA. Next was a nerd, camera flashing, but he was nothing- because the Third Child was next.
Huddled against the wind, he was still pathetic-looking, practically monochrome. Black, white, black. Striding down the way, your eyes tried to find his, but they were hidden behind an arm. You could wait, though. Finally, he looked up, and the connection was made.
You grinned, and whispered "Gotcha."
Moving up closer, your smile never left your face, even as a gust of wind came up over the side of the carrier and pushed your dress up a la Marilyn Monroe. Unlike that famous movie shoot, though, your hands were not pre-positioned and you weren't getting paid in advance. As the cameraman leered in as you fixed things downstairs, though, you decided a little collection could be taken up.
Smacking the jock with a forehand slap, you were about ready to hit the Third Child when your arm locked up. You couldn't. You literally couldn't- because that would go against the first things you'd learned. Never hurt the Third Child, because he was the key to the nightmares. Thinking quickly, you backhanded the nerd, before turning up your nose at the Third Child.
"What was that for?" the jock yelled.
"Viewing fee."
The nerd chuckled, elbowing the Third Child gamely. "Guess she likes you, eh Shinji?"
You stared at him with the fundamental sort of hate and disgust you'd learned from your Professor of Mathematics when he found one of the students cheating on the exam, not saying a word. Turning carefully, you got ready to say hello to Misato, before she caught up with you-
-and as you were swept up into a bear hug, you briefly considered the pros and cons to this. Pros, best guardian figure ever. Cons, utter slob. Maybe she'd mellowed with age?
///
Down in the wardroom, you found out she hadn't mellowed with age. Living with Shinji and Rei (you got a twinge of dissonance at this for some reason) kept her mostly under control, but the plan to get you a nice apartment on the same floor as her meant you'd be close by if you had any problems. A level stare got Misato to chuckle and pat your head though, making you blush slightly as you turned away from the attention. Unfortunately, this was enough to let Misato sneak a fast one past you, and go off to do something while you were stuck with the Third.
Considering he seemed to be almost comatose from shock for some reason- you hadn't worn anything frilly downstairs so it hadn't been that- you'd have to take control of the situation. As far as you could tell, he was just… tuned in to an old SDAT player he'd whipped out, and in a meditative doze while you sized him up.
Great, he was one of those. Right, well there had to be something you could do with him, since if you let him wander off he looked like he'd get lost and come to on another boat or something.
[] "Do you want to come with me to my room? I've got most of my sound stuff set up, get a better quality than a pair of headphones."
[] "Soooo, you want to see what a real Evangellion unit looks like?"
[] "What's Tokyo-3 like anyway? How's their Geofront- and more importantly, how's the food?"
AN: One, this is all @Strypgia fault for giving me the idea, and two go buy my book please!
"Mama?"
"What- what did they do? My precious doll, what did they do!"
"Mama, what do you mean? You look, you look so blurry-"
"You monsters! I made her, and you ruined her! My poor doll, don't worry, we'll have you right as rain soon. Mama will make it better, don't worry. Don't worry."
Fingering your neck, you decide against it. You didn't always remember Synchronization very well, despite the warning you heard in it. False memories and monsters would dance through your head hours afterwords, images of white demons shaped like an Evangellion and their spears a nightmare as old as piloting to you. A flicker of pain danced through the left of your skull, enough to make you stumble. It would pass.
The trip to Japan, while being a pain in the neck, at least was interesting when you weren't stuck in your room trying to focus on kanji. The fact you were The Second Child was a powerful tool to go and to do things you'd never thought of before, and the people of this ship understood the power you possessed. The pomp and circumstance might have been a tad below what you wanted, but for the most part officers weren't people. It would be nice, though, to have someone's company on this trip, as the long hallway stretched out in front of you. Moving forward doggedly, you finally got to the hanger, and from there on to one of the lifts to the flight deck. The sun felt good on your skin, and the wind brought a smile to your face. It was a good day.
"So you're waiting on a woman too?" Kaji asked, walking up next to you. Flicking your crimson hair, you arched an eyebrow.
"Only if you're interested in some dramatic lifestyle choices, Kaji." you purred back. Flirting with him was hard, so by now you'd learned that the best way to handle it was to dangle some bait and see if he'd catch. As another twinge of pain went through your head, you took a moment to sigh. The spray must not be playing well with your eyepatch again.
"The Evangellion had a backflow incident. Not as severe as with her mother, but the contamination effects were… interesting."
"Interesting?"
You whimpered as the doctors talked. Your head was on fire, and when the air conditioner kicked in the remains of your socket tingled. It was like an ice-pick to the brain, what was left of your optic nerve spasming and showing you colors never painted by man.
"It superimposed a physical matrix onto her, like a sympathetic injury."
"Sympathetic injuries are sympathetic, though, not real flesh-and-blood wounds."
"We caught an interesting wave pattern- maybe the Evangellion sent something back. Equivalent exchange, maybe?"
"That machine cost her an eye!"
"If we've moved from her mother's mind to her daughter's eye, then I'd call that progress. We need to find if there was backflow into her, though, or it'll all be for nothing."
"I said, how are you feeling about meeting the Third Child?" Kaji repeated himself, watching your slight wince as a sprayed wave got too close to your face.
"Like it's about time I had someone worthy to bask in my radiance."
"Now that's the Third Child I know. You know, though, the key to a good relationship is a strong first impression. Think about what you want your appearance to say when he gets here."
You looked down at your third-rate ratty blue jeans and Ammon Amarth t-shirt that you'd washed so thin you could see the neon green sports bra on under it, before looking at Kaji.
"That's today?" you asked, voice small.
"That's in about an hour."
Several heads swiveled as you began a claxon wail. "What do you mean I only have an hour?! Do you know how long it takes to do my hair? Why do you do this to me, Kaji! I thought you loved me?!"
"As a little sister, maybe." Kaji muttered, pointing at the superstructure. "I'll make sure to page you when we see their chopper, don't worry."
Damn your headache, you had to look your best. Getting back to your room in record time, you stripped down and hopped in the shower. You had an hour, ten minutes of which were gone. Great, that meant no soak, and honestly you wouldn't be washing your hair if you had literally any other option. As it was, you only had time for the basics- shampoo, conditioner, and then a teatree oil moisturizer that was about the only thing you'd found to let you get away with wet hair without some loving brush time. God, working a snarl out was an act of surgery sometimes. Either way, you got in and out of the water in record time, before putting on some classic Motörhead on the cassette player while you dug through your closet. It would need to be something light with the coming mid-day sun, and it needed to be something that made you look good. It wasn't looking good, though: you only had three skirts unpacked? Oh well- one of them was a lemon-yellow sundress that shouldn't look too saturated in the South Pacific sun. Pulling open a special case, you pulled off your plain black eyepatch, and shook out your eye socket carefully, eyelid flapping. Grimacing, you picked out a crimson patch chosen to blend with your hair, before pulling out a thin plastic rib and sliding it into the back. It would keep your eyelid from making too much mischief if the patch was slightly offset, and it would keep things comfortable when you put in your spacer tonight. Settling in with your A-10 clips, you pulled out your rough comb to get to work on your hair.
"Asuka Soryu, helicopter arriving. Asuka Soryu, helicopter arriving."
Damn shit fuck mother of god arg retarded copter pilots go die in a whirlybird hole. Working the comb out, you fluffed your top layer one last time and made for the elevator. You made it to the flight deck just as the battered old Hind came in for a final approach, As it landed, you stared at the doors intently. First out was Misato, of course, and then came a complete musclebound hunk. A slight smirk came to your face, as the ghost of satisfaction tinged with sadness rolled across in a phantom memory. He got what was coming to him, even if the specifics were still locked in the Pandora's Box that was your EVA. Next was a nerd, camera flashing, but he was nothing- because the Third Child was next.
Huddled against the wind, he was still pathetic-looking, practically monochrome. Black, white, black. Striding down the way, your eyes tried to find his, but they were hidden behind an arm. You could wait, though. Finally, he looked up, and the connection was made.
You grinned, and whispered "Gotcha."
Moving up closer, your smile never left your face, even as a gust of wind came up over the side of the carrier and pushed your dress up a la Marilyn Monroe. Unlike that famous movie shoot, though, your hands were not pre-positioned and you weren't getting paid in advance. As the cameraman leered in as you fixed things downstairs, though, you decided a little collection could be taken up.
Smacking the jock with a forehand slap, you were about ready to hit the Third Child when your arm locked up. You couldn't. You literally couldn't- because that would go against the first things you'd learned. Never hurt the Third Child, because he was the key to the nightmares. Thinking quickly, you backhanded the nerd, before turning up your nose at the Third Child.
"What was that for?" the jock yelled.
"Viewing fee."
The nerd chuckled, elbowing the Third Child gamely. "Guess she likes you, eh Shinji?"
You stared at him with the fundamental sort of hate and disgust you'd learned from your Professor of Mathematics when he found one of the students cheating on the exam, not saying a word. Turning carefully, you got ready to say hello to Misato, before she caught up with you-
-and as you were swept up into a bear hug, you briefly considered the pros and cons to this. Pros, best guardian figure ever. Cons, utter slob. Maybe she'd mellowed with age?
///
Down in the wardroom, you found out she hadn't mellowed with age. Living with Shinji and Rei (you got a twinge of dissonance at this for some reason) kept her mostly under control, but the plan to get you a nice apartment on the same floor as her meant you'd be close by if you had any problems. A level stare got Misato to chuckle and pat your head though, making you blush slightly as you turned away from the attention. Unfortunately, this was enough to let Misato sneak a fast one past you, and go off to do something while you were stuck with the Third.
Considering he seemed to be almost comatose from shock for some reason- you hadn't worn anything frilly downstairs so it hadn't been that- you'd have to take control of the situation. As far as you could tell, he was just… tuned in to an old SDAT player he'd whipped out, and in a meditative doze while you sized him up.
Great, he was one of those. Right, well there had to be something you could do with him, since if you let him wander off he looked like he'd get lost and come to on another boat or something.
[] "Do you want to come with me to my room? I've got most of my sound stuff set up, get a better quality than a pair of headphones."
[] "Soooo, you want to see what a real Evangellion unit looks like?"
[] "What's Tokyo-3 like anyway? How's their Geofront- and more importantly, how's the food?"
AN: One, this is all @Strypgia fault for giving me the idea, and two go buy my book please!
At the Corner of Rammenstien and Liszt
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
Working your way down back into the guts of the carrier, you raked a hand through your hair nervously. Your room was reasonably clean, of course, but there was still an itch on the back of your shoulder telling you something was up. A sailor's murrmer, just like a technicians, could remind you of the Faustian bargain that was an Evangellion, and now you had someone behind you who'd made the same deal. He'd be like you, right?
As you walked into your small cabin, the answer was pretty quickly "no" to that. Seizing up at your wall poster (Black Sabbath End of the World tour of 2002, signed by the surviving members of the band when you met them at Wacken) Shinji sort of just sat in the one chair while you were on the bed next to the soundboard.
"Have any preferences?" you asked, pulling your hair around in front of you so you didn't sit on it by accident. "I've got… basically everything."
Shinji's eye's lit up. "Hungarian Rhapsody #6."
As the ivories tickled and you tried to hold on to the subtleties, you eyed the other Child carefully. The dance section was better, but… God. The waiting. Still, his eyes were peacefully closed, and he was smiling as his hands moved in perfect time. Say what you will, but he must be damn good at whatever his instrument was. Still, after ten-ish minutes of piano rattling, you were in the mood for something with a bit more… energy.
"My turn." you said, grinning. "I'm thinking, Cliffs of Dover, and Trust. Start you off on the fluffy stuff."
The start of the bouncy electric guitar perked Shinji up, but he was much less enthused with Megadeth. Trying to peer into his head with music was not exactly going well, and he… did he just hate talking? Was he one of those silent types? Either way, he wasn't doing… anything. It bugged you. The stillness was an aberration on life, because life was dynamic. There needed to be movement, a pulse, a something. Not this lonely boy sitting in a chair, trading musical suggestions with you.
"Angus Dei?" Shinji asked carefully, after the guitars had finished. You just stared at him, dead level. That prayer had been set to music thousands of times.
"Which version?"
"Sorry, er, Samuel Barber's version."
"Better, Third. Better."
You couldn't say you disliked this piece. It reminded you of home in a lot of ways, but the pure chorale arrangement didn't really suit you. The climax of the piece, especially, was technically epic. Technically. Something about the augmented chord leading into a minor and an over-wrought resolution in minor was unfuffiling. It was, musically, a composition about hopes and failures.
You wished it didn't fit so well. Trying to recover from the mental stumble, you looked at him and grinned menacingly. "If your next pick is something like les Gymnopidies, I'll throw you out."
"What?!"
"You're obviously trying to put me to sleep so you can perv on me." you continued matter-of-factly. "It's obvious."
"Eric Satie was a great composer though!" Shinji fired back. "What else can you think of that makes such a strong atmosphere?"
You'd been slowly digitizing your collection as fast as you could buy storage space for it, and now it was time to break out the first song you'd converted way back when. It was a classic, and more importantly a great way to drive a point home.
Smiling, you stood up off your bed as the strings started plucking their way in, and used your best sashay over with the muted trumpets. The pressing air was starting to make your comrade in arms twitchy, and as the tempo increased he seemed more and more likely to break.
Then, right in time with the accelerando and the symbols, the Angel Alarm went off. Cursing and swearing, you bolted from your bed- that was how you'd get to your EVA fastest. They'd probably scramble a helicopter, get you to the Othello, figure everything out from there.
Then you heard Shinji whimper, and your mind clicked out of gear for a moment. You were the Evangelion pilot here, and you'd technically been doing this longer than him. More importantly, the safest place to be in an Angel attack was with the EVA. Sure, you'd get banged up a little bit, but he was a guy. He could handle it. Grabbing his arm, you started dragging him with you as you went.
"What are you bringing me for!?" Shinji wailed as you hauled him up a stair-ladder-thing.
"You're a pilot! C'mon!"
"I'm not a good pilot though! I'm a terrible pilot!"
Your eye twitched. "Well tough luck then! All you need to do is help me boot the system up, and we'll be good!"
Shinji whimpered. "You're sure?"
"Positive!"
The foremost skill you'd learned from you ex-Bundeswehr instructors was that you always needed to keep an eye on your ground penetration or you'd trip on a swamp. The secondmost important skill, meanwhile, was lying.
It didn't take long to get to the flight deck, and you didn't even need to comandeer a helicopter since some mildly polite Marines grabbed you like a sack of potatoes and horked you into a Hind. The trip to Othello was fairly quick, and the ISO container with your stuff was nice and easily accessible.
Then you remembered that all your plugsuits were tailored to you, and Shinji was a guy. He realized it at about the same time, gulping heavily when you chucked one at him.
"I take the left side of the container, you take the right." you decided. "And if you try anything so help me God I will throw you out of the Entry Plug the minute we're done."
Shinji just scampered away, and you shucked off the sundress and your underwear quickly. The suit was a bit of a pain to get on, but once you ran the inflate-settle cycle it got much more comfertable. Then you heard an 'eep!' from the other side of the container, and slowly walked around.
"Doing okay, Third?" you asked dryly as he leaned into the big metal box. He just nodded, prompting you to grab his wrist to help him up to the entry plug.
"Ladies first." you told him, dead serious. As Shinji's head tilted, you clarified. "You need to start the windups, and I can run the pedals from behind you easier than having you squish me down."
"Okay." Shinji said quietly, slipping in and starting the dial-up systems as you slammed the hatch shut behind you. Slapping the FILL COCKPIT button, you sighed as your hair immediately went to shit, and took off your eyepatch. That was the real reason you wanted Shinji in the front- he didn't need to see that. Nobody needed to see that. As the LCL began to pour in, a computer dialouge opened up on a side console.
> Protokollsprache: Deutsch, English, 日本語
"日本語" you muttered, slapping the button.
>Protokollsprache bestätigen?
""Bestätigt"
>Als Standardeinstellung speichern?
"Nein du verdammeter Computer, ich werde das nie wieder machen."
Fucking dumbass computer. Shinji started to turn, and you just gently took his head in your hands and pushed back forward. "Nope." you said.
"-but"
"Nope!"
Right, computer set, EVA waking up, dial-up connection established…
"Asuka! Shinji!" Misato's voice came out from one of the speakers, and you girimmaced. Kinda tinny, but the speakers always were until they got all the air bubbles out of the cockpit. Not really a concern, and you had a copilot for this!
"You handle the talking, Third." you said casually, focusing on your connection to the EVA. The synch was starting soon.
"We're here, Misato!" Shinji yelled excitedly. "Asuka's starting the synch now!"
You didn't really hear that last bit too well, as your consciousness expanded. Soon, you weren't just in the war machine- you were the war machine.
"Asuka, synch score is off the charts!" Misato roared. "One twenty percent! Keep it up, and get over here so we can hook you in!"
Focusing carefully on standing up without rocking the boat, your mind was already racing, eyes scanning. Then you heard it- a muttering.
"Angel Gaghiel," Shinji muttered. "Angel of the Waves, core's in it's… mouth? How big is this thing?"
"Care to share?" you asked acerbically.
"Only if you tell me something in return." he said, a thin core of iron under his voice.
"Deal." you replied. "Tit for tat and all that."
Shinji stiffened, and nodded. "The Evangelions… they tell me about the Angels. Every time I synch. Who and what they are, almost like they fought them before. Ones from the sky, the splitting one, even the beam diamond… they told me everything,"
You whistled. "Shit. That's damn helpful."
"Still not very helpful when it comes to killing it." Shinji sighed. You nodded, ballance found, and started jumping ship-to-ship to get to the aircraft carrier. Killing the angel would be easier, now- but after? What then?
[] Tell Shinji about what Misato was like as a guardian, and how lucky he is.
[] Tell Shinji about the nightmares of white-winged Evangelions.
[] Tell Shinji why you really put him in front of you.
As you walked into your small cabin, the answer was pretty quickly "no" to that. Seizing up at your wall poster (Black Sabbath End of the World tour of 2002, signed by the surviving members of the band when you met them at Wacken) Shinji sort of just sat in the one chair while you were on the bed next to the soundboard.
"Have any preferences?" you asked, pulling your hair around in front of you so you didn't sit on it by accident. "I've got… basically everything."
Shinji's eye's lit up. "Hungarian Rhapsody #6."
As the ivories tickled and you tried to hold on to the subtleties, you eyed the other Child carefully. The dance section was better, but… God. The waiting. Still, his eyes were peacefully closed, and he was smiling as his hands moved in perfect time. Say what you will, but he must be damn good at whatever his instrument was. Still, after ten-ish minutes of piano rattling, you were in the mood for something with a bit more… energy.
"My turn." you said, grinning. "I'm thinking, Cliffs of Dover, and Trust. Start you off on the fluffy stuff."
The start of the bouncy electric guitar perked Shinji up, but he was much less enthused with Megadeth. Trying to peer into his head with music was not exactly going well, and he… did he just hate talking? Was he one of those silent types? Either way, he wasn't doing… anything. It bugged you. The stillness was an aberration on life, because life was dynamic. There needed to be movement, a pulse, a something. Not this lonely boy sitting in a chair, trading musical suggestions with you.
"Angus Dei?" Shinji asked carefully, after the guitars had finished. You just stared at him, dead level. That prayer had been set to music thousands of times.
"Which version?"
"Sorry, er, Samuel Barber's version."
"Better, Third. Better."
You couldn't say you disliked this piece. It reminded you of home in a lot of ways, but the pure chorale arrangement didn't really suit you. The climax of the piece, especially, was technically epic. Technically. Something about the augmented chord leading into a minor and an over-wrought resolution in minor was unfuffiling. It was, musically, a composition about hopes and failures.
You wished it didn't fit so well. Trying to recover from the mental stumble, you looked at him and grinned menacingly. "If your next pick is something like les Gymnopidies, I'll throw you out."
"What?!"
"You're obviously trying to put me to sleep so you can perv on me." you continued matter-of-factly. "It's obvious."
"Eric Satie was a great composer though!" Shinji fired back. "What else can you think of that makes such a strong atmosphere?"
You'd been slowly digitizing your collection as fast as you could buy storage space for it, and now it was time to break out the first song you'd converted way back when. It was a classic, and more importantly a great way to drive a point home.
Smiling, you stood up off your bed as the strings started plucking their way in, and used your best sashay over with the muted trumpets. The pressing air was starting to make your comrade in arms twitchy, and as the tempo increased he seemed more and more likely to break.
Then, right in time with the accelerando and the symbols, the Angel Alarm went off. Cursing and swearing, you bolted from your bed- that was how you'd get to your EVA fastest. They'd probably scramble a helicopter, get you to the Othello, figure everything out from there.
Then you heard Shinji whimper, and your mind clicked out of gear for a moment. You were the Evangelion pilot here, and you'd technically been doing this longer than him. More importantly, the safest place to be in an Angel attack was with the EVA. Sure, you'd get banged up a little bit, but he was a guy. He could handle it. Grabbing his arm, you started dragging him with you as you went.
"What are you bringing me for!?" Shinji wailed as you hauled him up a stair-ladder-thing.
"You're a pilot! C'mon!"
"I'm not a good pilot though! I'm a terrible pilot!"
Your eye twitched. "Well tough luck then! All you need to do is help me boot the system up, and we'll be good!"
Shinji whimpered. "You're sure?"
"Positive!"
The foremost skill you'd learned from you ex-Bundeswehr instructors was that you always needed to keep an eye on your ground penetration or you'd trip on a swamp. The secondmost important skill, meanwhile, was lying.
It didn't take long to get to the flight deck, and you didn't even need to comandeer a helicopter since some mildly polite Marines grabbed you like a sack of potatoes and horked you into a Hind. The trip to Othello was fairly quick, and the ISO container with your stuff was nice and easily accessible.
Then you remembered that all your plugsuits were tailored to you, and Shinji was a guy. He realized it at about the same time, gulping heavily when you chucked one at him.
"I take the left side of the container, you take the right." you decided. "And if you try anything so help me God I will throw you out of the Entry Plug the minute we're done."
Shinji just scampered away, and you shucked off the sundress and your underwear quickly. The suit was a bit of a pain to get on, but once you ran the inflate-settle cycle it got much more comfertable. Then you heard an 'eep!' from the other side of the container, and slowly walked around.
"Doing okay, Third?" you asked dryly as he leaned into the big metal box. He just nodded, prompting you to grab his wrist to help him up to the entry plug.
"Ladies first." you told him, dead serious. As Shinji's head tilted, you clarified. "You need to start the windups, and I can run the pedals from behind you easier than having you squish me down."
"Okay." Shinji said quietly, slipping in and starting the dial-up systems as you slammed the hatch shut behind you. Slapping the FILL COCKPIT button, you sighed as your hair immediately went to shit, and took off your eyepatch. That was the real reason you wanted Shinji in the front- he didn't need to see that. Nobody needed to see that. As the LCL began to pour in, a computer dialouge opened up on a side console.
> Protokollsprache: Deutsch, English, 日本語
"日本語" you muttered, slapping the button.
>Protokollsprache bestätigen?
""Bestätigt"
>Als Standardeinstellung speichern?
"Nein du verdammeter Computer, ich werde das nie wieder machen."
Fucking dumbass computer. Shinji started to turn, and you just gently took his head in your hands and pushed back forward. "Nope." you said.
"-but"
"Nope!"
Right, computer set, EVA waking up, dial-up connection established…
"Asuka! Shinji!" Misato's voice came out from one of the speakers, and you girimmaced. Kinda tinny, but the speakers always were until they got all the air bubbles out of the cockpit. Not really a concern, and you had a copilot for this!
"You handle the talking, Third." you said casually, focusing on your connection to the EVA. The synch was starting soon.
"We're here, Misato!" Shinji yelled excitedly. "Asuka's starting the synch now!"
You didn't really hear that last bit too well, as your consciousness expanded. Soon, you weren't just in the war machine- you were the war machine.
"Asuka, synch score is off the charts!" Misato roared. "One twenty percent! Keep it up, and get over here so we can hook you in!"
Focusing carefully on standing up without rocking the boat, your mind was already racing, eyes scanning. Then you heard it- a muttering.
"Angel Gaghiel," Shinji muttered. "Angel of the Waves, core's in it's… mouth? How big is this thing?"
"Care to share?" you asked acerbically.
"Only if you tell me something in return." he said, a thin core of iron under his voice.
"Deal." you replied. "Tit for tat and all that."
Shinji stiffened, and nodded. "The Evangelions… they tell me about the Angels. Every time I synch. Who and what they are, almost like they fought them before. Ones from the sky, the splitting one, even the beam diamond… they told me everything,"
You whistled. "Shit. That's damn helpful."
"Still not very helpful when it comes to killing it." Shinji sighed. You nodded, ballance found, and started jumping ship-to-ship to get to the aircraft carrier. Killing the angel would be easier, now- but after? What then?
[] Tell Shinji about what Misato was like as a guardian, and how lucky he is.
[] Tell Shinji about the nightmares of white-winged Evangelions.
[] Tell Shinji why you really put him in front of you.
Last edited:
They are Rage
7734
Trust and verify.
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- Philmont
Grinning, you patted the Third on his shoulder while you stood up the EVA and considered your options carefully. With about five minutes of battery, you needed to get to the aircraft carrier, and quickly. If you did this right, it would look really cool too.
"Alright, steady, steady…" you muttered to yourself, swinging your arms gently as the giant robot rocked the boat. "Aaand… now!"
With a burst of energy, you leaped off the Othello, and towards your target: some old rustbucket you could get both your feet on to. Sprinting across the ships wouldn't work, since ships were moving targets, so you just needed to do this one jump at a time. It took some work, but you kept mostly to cargo ships (and one beat-up old FREMM that you put out of it's misery) and got to the carrier in a reasonable ammount of time. Meanwhile, you could still sense the Angel in the distance, circling, probing the distant extant of your AT field. You knew where the core was, though, which meant you could do this.
Then you felt, more than saw, it charging towards you. Tabbing over the exterior speakers, you gulped.
"BRACE!"
Then there was ten million tons of angry Angel-fish-thing flying at you, forcing you to duck and grab. It was slick, almost slimey, but your claws grasped as you started an over-the-shoulder throw. As the Angel went (more) airborne, you grinned nastily and laughed. All you had to do was keep your footing, and you'd be fine.
"How are we getting into it's mouth again, Asuka?" Shinji asked, and you remembered the one problem to your 'plan' as it were- the core. If this were just some angry flying fish, you'd filet it down to a managable size, but tissue damage was basically a non-etinity. Fucking angels. Right, new plan, new plan new-
"You got a plan, Asuka?"
"Damnit, Misato, working on it!" you shouted back. "We got anything bigger than a pocketknife down there?"
"All your weapons were on the Othello!"
The Othello… which was quite possibly sinking after you'd springboarded off it. Shit. Okay, fine, be that way. You could work a way around that.
"Shinji, can you maintain the AT field?" you asked, before pulling yourself up so you were standing in the pod to get at a pannel. "I need to adjust something."
"Okay…" Shinji said, before the ship rocked uncontrolably. "Ahh!"
"Pipe down you big baby," you muttered. "I got a plan, Misato, but you're going to need to trust me."
"So what is it, then?" your nominal guardian asked lightly. "Oh, by the way, the admiral over here would like to inform me they're running out of anti-submarine weapons, and if it sinks his ship we all drown."
"Can you get me an N2 missile?" you asked. Everything stopped for a second.
"Say again, you need an N2 missile?"
You nodded to yourself, and closed the pannel. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I ripped out the garbage that keeps me out of the local 'net, so if you send me an IFF code for the mines I can get them a targeting designation. Launch the missile into the fishy's mouth, basta bomb that son of a bitch into the water, problem solved."
"How about no?" Misato replied. "The missiles don't have the accuracy for that, and we can't actually get a connection through to you."
You swore fluently. You'd get all the safety interlocks out of your Evangelion one day, but today was not that day apparently. Right, plan B time.
"Do we have any N2 depth charges?"
"We don't have permission to initiate an N2 weapon at this time."
Alright, fine, N2s were out. You still needed a weapon that could get in there, then, and cut the damn thing up from the inside… unless…
"Alright, plan C then." you hissed, sensing the tingling in the AT field of the Angel getting closer as Shinji shouted out a warning and your field strength jumped up as he got ready to shield you. This time, though, progressive knife at the ready, you got ready to go hunting. "Really wish they gave me a shotgun for this…"
Your plan, if you could call it a plan, was pretty simple. Core was in the mouth, right? Then just ramp your AT field up as high as it went as a protective layer, and dive in. Shinji was, somehow, managing to keep up what was probably the strongest protective field you'd ever seen. With the Angel bearing down on you like a train, you crouched, waiting for it to leap out of the water. When it did, you grinned- and then leaped into it, progressive knife down as you flew into it's gullet and cut a slit its throat. At about this time Shinji started screaming, but you really couldn't care- you had an Angel to kill.
Also, angelic stomach acid really tingled, and you'd probably need a new paint job after this. Fortunately, you could still hear Shinji's screaming, so despite the pounding in your ears and radio static, you knew you were alive. Firing off the odd needle-launcher in your shoulder to get a response, you doggedly worked on slicing your way through the Angel, pushing and shoving aside folds of flesh and flab as you worked.
"Gonna need a bigger knife next time…" you grumbled, pulling your cable another few meters as you kept crawling forward. "Shinji, how's the AT field holding up?"
In front of you, all you felt was whimpering and the occasional moan of terror.
"Right well he's fucking useless as always." you said, continuing to grumble as you crawled forward. "Can't kill angels unless he goes berserk, can't figure out subspace problems, can't even figure out how to be gay right, christ."
Finally getting up to the core, you lined up the chisel-tip of your progressive knife and slammed it into the core. As the deep scratch started leaking light, you started laughing.
"At least he's better than you, fishface!" you yelled, laughing. "What was that, three meters of teeth? I've seen Misato more dangerous at a buffet line! Where's your god now, huh? When you find him, tell him I came calling!"
And at that, you finally managed to breach the core, which started screaming before it exploded with enough force to rattle your head against the pylons. At that point, you just sort of rode the explosion on out, with Misato reeling you in moments later. With your synch score doing a quick little wibbly-wobbly, you finally focused enough to look at Shinji instead of seeing out of the Evangelion's eyes.
"So… I have to admit, you helped a lot." you told Shinji as he sort of panted in front of you, sweating into the LCL like a stuck hog. "Especially with the AT field management. Thanks."
Shinji blushed, having seemingly run out of options on his dialogue tree.
"I said I'd tell you something about me, though, and my EVA." you continued. "When I'm here… I know things. I remember things that might have happened, might happen later… I don't know. Most of the time it's dreams, or things I can't call on later, and it's always a mystery what I'll remember. If I'm not careful, though, I'll get the nightmares again."
Shinji shifted a little. "You too?'
"I don't think they're the same as yours, but yeah." you sigh. "Probably going to have them tonight, since I had to do a full synch. Have you ever felt you were in an unwinable battle?"
Shinji sighed, and tried to look towards you to look you in the eye. Leaning forward, you sandwiched his head in your arms and chest and made very certain it was pointing dead forwards. "Ah-ah-ah." you said. "Nobody gets to look at me when I'm en deshiable, especially you, idiot."
"We're both wearing plugsuits, and I'm getting stiff." he complained, although it seemed rather pro-forma.
"Yes, and I really don't give a damn until I get the time to put my face back on." you replied, shaking your head enough to free your hair until it started drifting loose in the LCL. "Back to my point though- an unwinable fight?"
"Every fight." he said, quietly. "Everyone wins in spite of me…"
"You win, though." you say, quiet. "I don't."
"Nonsense." he said. "You can't loose."
"Nine Angels in the shape of Evangelions." you say as the plug goes silent. "Each armed with a weapon that can bypass my AT fields. Unlimited energy, flight, regeneration. My weapons barely cut them, when I can catch them."
The silence stretches on, as tears start to thin the LCL. "Every time, it still feels like I'm there. I fight- I have to- but I can never win. When I was younger, and we had to synchronize every day, I could never sleep. The most I ever did was kill two- and in exchange, I was ripped to shreds. Piece by piece."
You stare down at your hands, the red of your suit blurring for a second to become the stained red hands of your EVA unit. "It taught me fighting, killing- and pain. They offered medications, but it just made it worse. Nothing clouds it out- nothing ever will."
Shinji was silent and unmoving until you got back the ship. Once you were decanted, Misato looked at you and sighed.
"I should have known better than to let you do that." she sighed. "You and Shinji look like shit, though. Want to come back to my house tonight, Asuka? The fleet will get into port today anyway, and I don't feel so good about leaving you on your own after a big fight like that."
[] "I'd be happy to."
[] "I'm a big girl, Misato- I'll stay with my EVA."
Last edited:
Buy my Books!
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
Hey guys! I write books (not just Quests) and if anyone would like to show me some appreciation for this or just want my professional quality material, go take a peek at what happens when I hit up steampunk instead of just fanfiction!
https://www.amazon.com/Century-Turn...?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1543971942&sr=1-1
Set among the clouds and adventure, A Century Turns tracks the progress of young Aleksander van Riebeck as he starts off on a globe-hopping merchant career, from the cold skies of Copper Harbor, to the sun-soaked lands of the South of France and Istanbul. With secrecy and pirates afoot, the world is Aleksander's oyster- if he can get his foot in the door!
https://www.amazon.com/Night-over-B...berez&s=digital-text&sr=1-1&text=Tabac+Iberez
After arriving in Istanbul, Aleksander van Riebeck has seen his fair share of disaster. A ship rotting to pieces around him, navigational hazards, and a narrowly run course of pirates all litter his wake, and now all he wants is a few days peace. A pity his delivery has landed him straight into hot water with the local politics, though! With fifteen minutes of fame and a cash-rich coffee, can Aleksander double down on his good luck and clean dealing, or will the women of where the East meets the West and the alure of prestige start to tie him down? There's only one way to learn for sure!
https://www.amazon.com/Century-Turn...?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1543971942&sr=1-1
Set among the clouds and adventure, A Century Turns tracks the progress of young Aleksander van Riebeck as he starts off on a globe-hopping merchant career, from the cold skies of Copper Harbor, to the sun-soaked lands of the South of France and Istanbul. With secrecy and pirates afoot, the world is Aleksander's oyster- if he can get his foot in the door!
https://www.amazon.com/Night-over-B...berez&s=digital-text&sr=1-1&text=Tabac+Iberez
After arriving in Istanbul, Aleksander van Riebeck has seen his fair share of disaster. A ship rotting to pieces around him, navigational hazards, and a narrowly run course of pirates all litter his wake, and now all he wants is a few days peace. A pity his delivery has landed him straight into hot water with the local politics, though! With fifteen minutes of fame and a cash-rich coffee, can Aleksander double down on his good luck and clean dealing, or will the women of where the East meets the West and the alure of prestige start to tie him down? There's only one way to learn for sure!
Before the World Ended
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
Looking at Misato dead in the eye, you smiled. "I'd love to stay over, Misato. It'll be just like Berlin!"
///
Walking in the door to the apartment, you dropped your overnight suitcase and jaw when you saw the floor. Not that it was a nice floor, or anything, but the fact that you could see it through the expected haze of beer bottles, crisps bags, laundry, and empty envelopes. Your old apartment had been, semi-seriously, referred to as a HAZMAT zone before when Misato was there! Then this!
"Misato, das sieht überhaupt nicht wie das alte Apartment aus"
"Ich weiß, es ist besser! OK, das Essen ist vegetarish, aber ich werde mich nicht beschweren wenn ich nicht kochen muss!"
"Was meinst du, es gibt kein Fleisch?!"
"Er, can you say that again?" Shinji asked carefully from behind you. You didn't notice, though, as a young woman stepped out of the kitchen. She was your age, fine-lined and with porcelain skin, yarn-blue hair, and those red eyes-
-screams of pain, a look of utter contempt, the feeling you were missing something-
-you didn't like those eyes. It took you a minute to recognize why, though; not that you hadn't tried to bury the memories of the dolls your mother had oh-so-carefully made in the days before her mental collapse. Yours had been the most vivid, but the rest of them had scared you too- boys dressed plainly holding balls and instruments, a grinning man with shaded eyes and clasped hands, an old ghost haunting the cast, and worst of all a carefree trio with arms intertwined, unfinished when she snapped and tried to hang herself from a pipe. Shaking your head to clear the images, you focused on the smell of food.
"Hello, Shinji, Misato." Rei Ayanami said, your mind supplying the name as easily as how you'd always known to check your cable plugs and slide into a plugsuit. "Who's this?"
"This is the new pilot, Asuka Sohryu." Misato said, smiling. "Asuka, meet Rei Ayanami, pilot of the Prototype Evangelion."
"Good to meet you." you said stiffly, bowing politely when she bowed to you. The food was good, though you ate lightly and drank plenty of water. Pigging out after a synch tended to be a bad idea, since LCL could do things to your stomach if you weren't careful. Misato still drank, though, and a quiet conversation was carried on Rei and Shinji as you slowly scoped out the social terrain. There was trust between Shinji and Rei, a trust you craved, and even though you sat at the same table it felt like you were a million miles away.
After dinner, Shinji got the guest futon out for you while took a bath. The warmth helped relax you, digging out the tension that had been gnawing on your back all day. Things hadn't exploded yet. You would be fine, probably. Either way, as you stepped out and into a terrycloth robe, and let your poor abused hair down. You'd have to get it trimmed soon before you could keep growing it out more, but that wasn't a terrible concern. Right now, you just wanted to crawl into your futon and fall asleep. Even as you came out from the bathroom and made your way to the living room and the slight layer of detrious that hadn't been cleaned up, a thought kept flickering against the edge of your mind.
Right- Ayanami's name. How did you know that? It hadn't been hard to figure out that you weren't quite… you… in the EVA cockpit, considering your nigh-prenatural fighting tallent and often nonsensical yelling. You also learned things, glenned from the seed of the EVA as you synchronized- such as how to work in the cockpit, some mathamatics, and most importantly how to waltz. That last one was probably the most fun but least useful, but it was still something. There was a theory that they were communcations from your mother, but that was nonsense. Mother was dead.
Shaking your head, you sighed and got into the futon. Whatever happened to sweet dreams, instead of tides of vinegar and bile? Probably when you finally realized that sleeping after a synch meant hell. Nothing to it, then.
---
You came to in the entry plug, Synch ratio blasting upwards and a roar of pain in your throat. Your head burned, eyes wet and dripping from tears not cried, and there were nine Evangelions in front of you, each the same as the last. You were the final line of defense of the Geofront, and it would end today. A blast of mental static pulsed through your mind, before you started moving forward, screaming. You either fought, and possibly died quick, or were eaten limb by limb.
Charging forward, you started screaming commands out, power cables flying out of buildings as you daisy-chained from one to the other. You had to be quick, a real devil in red as you moved in, leaping and bounding as one threw their swords at you. Dodging handily, you kept moving, ducking under the wild swing of one of them to pop up in it's guard, Progressive Knife in hand. Backhand, forehand, backhand, and that was enough to open up it's chest- the easy part. Now you had to commit, though, to ripping the core out before you could destroy it. Most nights, this is when you died- but tonight was good. Tonight you got it, hauling as it came out, and screaming as you cracked it wide open.
One down, and seven to go-?
No, eight were left, and then you buckled forward as a hammerblow took your knee out. Mobility stolen, you tried to lunge at the one that had snuck behind you, but he just cut your cable and laughed. Five minutes left, if only. Charging him, you ejected the remains of the cable while ducking in, parrying a stab as you kept closing. It was almost as your knife would reach him that your other leg gave out. Your leg had been pinned by a weapon, thrown by the one that snuck behind you. Swearing, you just had to pull it out and keep going- but there was nowhere to keep going as they surrounded you. Trying to deaden yourself to the pain, you felt, more so than saw, them start pulling at your arms.
The sockets were strong, but not that strong as you screamed in pain. Forcing yourself through the un-phantom limbs, you pulled your physical arms in tight to your chest as you tried to stand, to run. Tactics and artistry had fled your mind as you thrust your hips up to make the bridge, and then waved the back of the Evangellion to stand. Two steps more, and you could leap, and taste air-
-or blood, as you felt the LCL pressure in the cockpit dive. That was fine, though, your Entry Plug had been hit enough in this hellscape to know the feeling all too well. Still, as your hair floated to the top and down past your eyes, there was a coldness sapping your energy, staining a true, opaque red on top of the lifeblood of the entry plug. Oh. You'd been hit. Looking down casually as you tumbled through the air, a prong of a spear had nearly bisected you, leaving your legs held on by thin strips of flesh. Everything below your breastbone was dead, and when you hit the ground and torqued the lance it was shortly later torn off.
In the Entry Plug, the chill of death prevailed as LCL and blood poured out. Hacking out a cough, you reached one last time as you went for the control levers, trying to pull yourself back into control-
-and then you were awake, screaming in Misato's apartment as her bedroom door flew open.
"Asuka!" she yelled, but in your frigid state all you heard was the howl of the Mass Productions coming again. Hands scrambling to find your legs and hips where they should have been, you jumped up, rushing into Misato's open arms before twisting maniacally. An embrace turned into a hip throw, and Misato took it as gracefully as she ever did, rolling off the tatami mat floor and into a clear stance despite her earlier drinking.
"Asuka, it's me." she said, calming down. How was she so calm- you still had to fight! The Mass Productions were still out there, and as your hand flew to your shoulder to check your prog knife, Misato swore under her breath. Good- she knew how serious this was. Staring into that wild purple hair, you slowly forced her back into the category of 'friendly'.
"Misato?" a voice asked from behind her, and you slowly strafed right before you saw someone. Mousy, small, no weapons, no threat. Not important. No problem. "Is something-"
"Go back to your room, Shinji." Misato said calmly, never taking her eyes off you. "It's nothing serious."
You bared your teeth, trying to figure out angles. You could get out the kitchen door, or through the balcony and down or across. As the mousy boy retreated, though, you kept sidling right to see- and then you saw it.
"Angel." you hissed, taking a perfect breath in before surging forward in a fury of violence. Grabbing an empty beer can, you hurled it as a distraction, while ducking towards the barely-disguised shelf of bottles. It didn't matter what kind you took in hand, though, since they'd all break the same as you bounced off the wall and went in on the eyes of crimson. Death rode with you in that moment, the stress of forever preparing to come out. Arm cocked back, you lunged with perfect form- just as a freight train barreled into your side.
"Asuka, down!" Misato yelled. "Stand down!"
It didn't matter- you had to kill the Angel. Roaring, you got ready to throw, only for your weapon to get pulled away and discarded. Screaming, you reached up, but the hand that took your arm was warm.
"Asuka, it's me, Misato!" the person over you said again, pulling herself in. "It's Misato. Remember me? Breathe, think, think with me Lämmergeier. Remember when I was there?"
For a moment, a long moment, your brain locked. Then, slowly, you went limp. Misato stayed over you the entire time, grip firm and warm as she shielded you.
Then the tears started. No gentle thing they were, coming out in bellowing sobs and wracking coughs, until the ire faded from your eye. It must have been two in the morning when you finally finished coming to your senses, and by then you knew it had been a bad one.
"Hey, Misato." you croaked carefully. "I'm back."
Misato cracked a tired smile. "I can tell. Haven't had one that bad in a long time, have you?"
"Not since I was nine, yeah." you said, sighing. "I'm- just…"
"Go back to bed, Asuka." Misato said, smiling. "We'll handle it in the morning."
///
How do you handle things in the morning?
[] Just… leave. Wake up early, get gone, no messy apologies or anything, just make with the disappearing act and go to your apartment or something.
[] Get up early, and get to work cleaning the mess. It was your problem, so it'll be your solution to it.
[] Don't mention it. Don't mention anything related to it. Just shovel it all under the rug, and when you're gone Misato can just keep a lid on it like she always has done.
///
Walking in the door to the apartment, you dropped your overnight suitcase and jaw when you saw the floor. Not that it was a nice floor, or anything, but the fact that you could see it through the expected haze of beer bottles, crisps bags, laundry, and empty envelopes. Your old apartment had been, semi-seriously, referred to as a HAZMAT zone before when Misato was there! Then this!
"Misato, das sieht überhaupt nicht wie das alte Apartment aus"
"Ich weiß, es ist besser! OK, das Essen ist vegetarish, aber ich werde mich nicht beschweren wenn ich nicht kochen muss!"
"Was meinst du, es gibt kein Fleisch?!"
"Er, can you say that again?" Shinji asked carefully from behind you. You didn't notice, though, as a young woman stepped out of the kitchen. She was your age, fine-lined and with porcelain skin, yarn-blue hair, and those red eyes-
-screams of pain, a look of utter contempt, the feeling you were missing something-
-you didn't like those eyes. It took you a minute to recognize why, though; not that you hadn't tried to bury the memories of the dolls your mother had oh-so-carefully made in the days before her mental collapse. Yours had been the most vivid, but the rest of them had scared you too- boys dressed plainly holding balls and instruments, a grinning man with shaded eyes and clasped hands, an old ghost haunting the cast, and worst of all a carefree trio with arms intertwined, unfinished when she snapped and tried to hang herself from a pipe. Shaking your head to clear the images, you focused on the smell of food.
"Hello, Shinji, Misato." Rei Ayanami said, your mind supplying the name as easily as how you'd always known to check your cable plugs and slide into a plugsuit. "Who's this?"
"This is the new pilot, Asuka Sohryu." Misato said, smiling. "Asuka, meet Rei Ayanami, pilot of the Prototype Evangelion."
"Good to meet you." you said stiffly, bowing politely when she bowed to you. The food was good, though you ate lightly and drank plenty of water. Pigging out after a synch tended to be a bad idea, since LCL could do things to your stomach if you weren't careful. Misato still drank, though, and a quiet conversation was carried on Rei and Shinji as you slowly scoped out the social terrain. There was trust between Shinji and Rei, a trust you craved, and even though you sat at the same table it felt like you were a million miles away.
After dinner, Shinji got the guest futon out for you while took a bath. The warmth helped relax you, digging out the tension that had been gnawing on your back all day. Things hadn't exploded yet. You would be fine, probably. Either way, as you stepped out and into a terrycloth robe, and let your poor abused hair down. You'd have to get it trimmed soon before you could keep growing it out more, but that wasn't a terrible concern. Right now, you just wanted to crawl into your futon and fall asleep. Even as you came out from the bathroom and made your way to the living room and the slight layer of detrious that hadn't been cleaned up, a thought kept flickering against the edge of your mind.
Right- Ayanami's name. How did you know that? It hadn't been hard to figure out that you weren't quite… you… in the EVA cockpit, considering your nigh-prenatural fighting tallent and often nonsensical yelling. You also learned things, glenned from the seed of the EVA as you synchronized- such as how to work in the cockpit, some mathamatics, and most importantly how to waltz. That last one was probably the most fun but least useful, but it was still something. There was a theory that they were communcations from your mother, but that was nonsense. Mother was dead.
Shaking your head, you sighed and got into the futon. Whatever happened to sweet dreams, instead of tides of vinegar and bile? Probably when you finally realized that sleeping after a synch meant hell. Nothing to it, then.
---
You came to in the entry plug, Synch ratio blasting upwards and a roar of pain in your throat. Your head burned, eyes wet and dripping from tears not cried, and there were nine Evangelions in front of you, each the same as the last. You were the final line of defense of the Geofront, and it would end today. A blast of mental static pulsed through your mind, before you started moving forward, screaming. You either fought, and possibly died quick, or were eaten limb by limb.
Charging forward, you started screaming commands out, power cables flying out of buildings as you daisy-chained from one to the other. You had to be quick, a real devil in red as you moved in, leaping and bounding as one threw their swords at you. Dodging handily, you kept moving, ducking under the wild swing of one of them to pop up in it's guard, Progressive Knife in hand. Backhand, forehand, backhand, and that was enough to open up it's chest- the easy part. Now you had to commit, though, to ripping the core out before you could destroy it. Most nights, this is when you died- but tonight was good. Tonight you got it, hauling as it came out, and screaming as you cracked it wide open.
One down, and seven to go-?
No, eight were left, and then you buckled forward as a hammerblow took your knee out. Mobility stolen, you tried to lunge at the one that had snuck behind you, but he just cut your cable and laughed. Five minutes left, if only. Charging him, you ejected the remains of the cable while ducking in, parrying a stab as you kept closing. It was almost as your knife would reach him that your other leg gave out. Your leg had been pinned by a weapon, thrown by the one that snuck behind you. Swearing, you just had to pull it out and keep going- but there was nowhere to keep going as they surrounded you. Trying to deaden yourself to the pain, you felt, more so than saw, them start pulling at your arms.
The sockets were strong, but not that strong as you screamed in pain. Forcing yourself through the un-phantom limbs, you pulled your physical arms in tight to your chest as you tried to stand, to run. Tactics and artistry had fled your mind as you thrust your hips up to make the bridge, and then waved the back of the Evangellion to stand. Two steps more, and you could leap, and taste air-
-or blood, as you felt the LCL pressure in the cockpit dive. That was fine, though, your Entry Plug had been hit enough in this hellscape to know the feeling all too well. Still, as your hair floated to the top and down past your eyes, there was a coldness sapping your energy, staining a true, opaque red on top of the lifeblood of the entry plug. Oh. You'd been hit. Looking down casually as you tumbled through the air, a prong of a spear had nearly bisected you, leaving your legs held on by thin strips of flesh. Everything below your breastbone was dead, and when you hit the ground and torqued the lance it was shortly later torn off.
In the Entry Plug, the chill of death prevailed as LCL and blood poured out. Hacking out a cough, you reached one last time as you went for the control levers, trying to pull yourself back into control-
-and then you were awake, screaming in Misato's apartment as her bedroom door flew open.
"Asuka!" she yelled, but in your frigid state all you heard was the howl of the Mass Productions coming again. Hands scrambling to find your legs and hips where they should have been, you jumped up, rushing into Misato's open arms before twisting maniacally. An embrace turned into a hip throw, and Misato took it as gracefully as she ever did, rolling off the tatami mat floor and into a clear stance despite her earlier drinking.
"Asuka, it's me." she said, calming down. How was she so calm- you still had to fight! The Mass Productions were still out there, and as your hand flew to your shoulder to check your prog knife, Misato swore under her breath. Good- she knew how serious this was. Staring into that wild purple hair, you slowly forced her back into the category of 'friendly'.
"Misato?" a voice asked from behind her, and you slowly strafed right before you saw someone. Mousy, small, no weapons, no threat. Not important. No problem. "Is something-"
"Go back to your room, Shinji." Misato said calmly, never taking her eyes off you. "It's nothing serious."
You bared your teeth, trying to figure out angles. You could get out the kitchen door, or through the balcony and down or across. As the mousy boy retreated, though, you kept sidling right to see- and then you saw it.
"Angel." you hissed, taking a perfect breath in before surging forward in a fury of violence. Grabbing an empty beer can, you hurled it as a distraction, while ducking towards the barely-disguised shelf of bottles. It didn't matter what kind you took in hand, though, since they'd all break the same as you bounced off the wall and went in on the eyes of crimson. Death rode with you in that moment, the stress of forever preparing to come out. Arm cocked back, you lunged with perfect form- just as a freight train barreled into your side.
"Asuka, down!" Misato yelled. "Stand down!"
It didn't matter- you had to kill the Angel. Roaring, you got ready to throw, only for your weapon to get pulled away and discarded. Screaming, you reached up, but the hand that took your arm was warm.
"Asuka, it's me, Misato!" the person over you said again, pulling herself in. "It's Misato. Remember me? Breathe, think, think with me Lämmergeier. Remember when I was there?"
For a moment, a long moment, your brain locked. Then, slowly, you went limp. Misato stayed over you the entire time, grip firm and warm as she shielded you.
Then the tears started. No gentle thing they were, coming out in bellowing sobs and wracking coughs, until the ire faded from your eye. It must have been two in the morning when you finally finished coming to your senses, and by then you knew it had been a bad one.
"Hey, Misato." you croaked carefully. "I'm back."
Misato cracked a tired smile. "I can tell. Haven't had one that bad in a long time, have you?"
"Not since I was nine, yeah." you said, sighing. "I'm- just…"
"Go back to bed, Asuka." Misato said, smiling. "We'll handle it in the morning."
///
How do you handle things in the morning?
[] Just… leave. Wake up early, get gone, no messy apologies or anything, just make with the disappearing act and go to your apartment or something.
[] Get up early, and get to work cleaning the mess. It was your problem, so it'll be your solution to it.
[] Don't mention it. Don't mention anything related to it. Just shovel it all under the rug, and when you're gone Misato can just keep a lid on it like she always has done.
Expiriment 945
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
EVA Unit 0-2 Experimental Procedures, NERV Berlin
Expiriment 945: Long Term Synchronization Test
Date: 6/3/2010-14/3/2010
Introduction:
The Long Term Synchronization Test is to determine whether, due to uncertain Pattern Blue contact, a Child may be kept on what is reffered to as a "ready 5" in the aeronautic community. This means that within five minutes of the decision to deploy, a fully battle-ready EVA unit is deployed and active. To facilitate this, the EVA unit will have the pilot inserted and at a low, standby synchronization ratio. Thus, if a combat call goes out, launch may be achieved by entering a combat synch ratio, moving to the launch cradle, arming, and initiating launch.
Methodology:
The Second Child and EVA 0-2 will be kept on an Alert Five readiness position over the course of a week. For the duration of the week if at all possible, the Child will be inside the Entry Plug at low synch. Food and water will be pre-provisioned in sealed vacuum package tubes, and biological waste will be handled with a modified plugsuit. To prevent mental fatuige, the EVA unit will have limited access to the NERV Berlin internal libraries, and a radio connection will be provided to civilian broadband. Testing will include simulated scrambles to the ready lift, basic long-term synchronization, and pilot endurance and concentration with ocasional mental tests.
Results:
Day 1
Morning Synch: 45%
Mental Test 1: 89/100
Scramble Time: 1:05.78
Mental Test 2: 84/100
Evening Synch: 45%
Day 2
Midnight Synch: 19%
Morning Synch: 39%
Mental Test 1: 66/100
Scramble Time: 55.36
Mental Test 2: 78/100
Evening Synch: 36%
Day 3
Midnight Synch: 16%
Morning Synch: 31%
Mental Test 1: 52/100
Scramble Time: 1:32.15
Mental Test 2: 67/100
Evening Synch: 33%
Day 4
Midnight Synch: 12%
Morning Synch: 26%
Mental Test 1: 45/100
Scramble Time: 2:45.78
Mental Test 2: 43/100
Evening Synch: 29%
Day 5
Midnight Synch: 9%
Morning Synch: 18%
Mental Test 1: 39/100
Scramble Time: 4:12.61
Mental Test 2: 24/100
Evening Synch: 15%
Day 6
Midnight Synch: Desynch (see Appendix A for technical explanation)
Morning Synch: 12%
Mental Test 1: 12/100
Scramble Time: 6:55.17
Mental Test 2: 14/100
Evening Synch: 8%
Day 7
Midnight Synch: 12%
Morning Synch: Desynch
Mental Test 1: 8/100
Scramble Time: 8:21.88
Mental Test 2: 2/100
Evening Synch: Desynch
Discussion
[ADMIN NOTE: READ APPENDIX C]
As is painfully apparent, any possibility of combat effectiveness was lost on the third day, when mental and neurological fatuige caused the pilot to engage in compounding failures in mental ability, synch scores, and general manuvering of the Evangellion to the launch system. Analysis of cockpit recordings indicate that mental strain and piloting stress may have caused a minor breakdown on day 6, but on removal from the Entry Pug at the end of test prooved that no detectable damages to the Pilot were sustained. Anylsis of this and later events indicates that under no circumstances should any sortt of deliberately prolonged Synch be performed again, to any Pilot, in any Unit.
[ADMIN NOTE: READ APPENDIX C]
Appendixes
Appendix A: On Desynch
>Due to vagarries of synchronization, a Pilot may be nominally de-synchrnoized when their synch is below 5% due to the fact that at such low synch the neural patterns may randomly disconnect without warning. The test equipment also cannot accurately measure synch scores this low due to lack of processing power for the lower-order functions that are what remain synchronized at this level.
Appendix B: Damages
>Over the course of expiriments, starting on Day 3, the Pilot had great dificulty using the launch cradle system, and caused great damages costing in sum several million euros to repair. They are listed as follows.
>Day 3: Crushed power socket, 4,000eu
>Day 4: Crushed power socket, 4,000eu; bent cradle frame, 12,000eu
>Day 5: Total destruction of cradle frame, 200,000eu
>Day 6: Extreme damage to floor/ceiling of passageway, 120,000eu, warped rails of magnetic catapult, 400,000eu, partial destruction of cradle frame, 130,000eu
>Day 7: Extreme damage to EVA holding dock, 300,000eu, Extreme damage to EVA holding bay, 75,000eu; severe damage to power main resulting in blackouts, 65,000eu direct damage and rolling blackouts for the next 9 hours through the Geofront; warped rails of mag catapult, 400,000eu; crushed recovery vehicles x8, 30,000eu
Appendix C: Events of 15/3/10
>After returning to her apartments on 3/14, the Second Child fell into a deep slumber. At 0126, she became deeply disturbed, reportedly flailing and screaming with volume for the microphones in the common area of the apartment to pick it up. Her guardian and caretaker, Mrs. Liefbach, entered the Child's room and attempted to wake her, presumably by touch. Camera footage shows through the door a series of sharp blows to Mrs. Leifbach, and medical analysis post-event reveals four cracked ribs and severe bruising of the torso and a dislocated shoulder and elbow of the left arm. A passing Section Two member, hearing the violence, opened the door to the quarters with his master key, prompting the Second Child to fly out and attack him. In the physical altercation, she managed to grab his belt-taser, and according to medical records post-facto, badly damage the trachea before discharging it. After stealing his cards and keys, she escaped her quarters.
>Over the course of the next four hours, night staff and guards were attacked if found, and many needed hospitalization post-facto. While no permanent damages were sustained to staff, records of the Second Child's exact deeds and location for this time are incredibly spotty.
>Attempted lockdowns were not effective, with areas thought to be secured turning to have several holes in their coverage. Using boxes, carts, air ducts, fake radio transmissions, cries of distress, and predatory engagement of lone NERV personnel, the Second Child escaped and evaded containment.
>The Second Child was later recovered at 1602 when a liscensed food vendor (Kemal's Kebabs) reported a red-haired child had snuck into his food truck and fell asleep on his bags of rice. She then slept until 0901 16/3/10, and while slightly neurotic for several days, was unaware of her actions committed in fugue.
>It is widely held by security staff that, had the Second Child acquired a weapon more dangerous than hand tasers and her own body, there would have been between three and twenty-six fatalities, depending on if she could acquire a gun. With her continual exercise and combat training regimes, estimates indicate this range could grow exponentially, presuming she maintains control of the engagements as demonstrated on 15/3/10.
Signed, 19/3/2010
Dr. Friedrieck Trzebinski, MD
Dr. Schubert Rose, PhD
Dr. Robert Mauz, MD, PhD
[ADMIN EDIT 5/10/2015: PAPER TAKEN OUT OF GENERAL LIBRARY CIRCULATION, ADDED TO DATABASE 'CATASTROPHIC FAILURE', NO REDACTED COPIES TO BE ISSUED, ADMIN NOTES ADDED]
Expiriment 945: Long Term Synchronization Test
Date: 6/3/2010-14/3/2010
Introduction:
The Long Term Synchronization Test is to determine whether, due to uncertain Pattern Blue contact, a Child may be kept on what is reffered to as a "ready 5" in the aeronautic community. This means that within five minutes of the decision to deploy, a fully battle-ready EVA unit is deployed and active. To facilitate this, the EVA unit will have the pilot inserted and at a low, standby synchronization ratio. Thus, if a combat call goes out, launch may be achieved by entering a combat synch ratio, moving to the launch cradle, arming, and initiating launch.
Methodology:
The Second Child and EVA 0-2 will be kept on an Alert Five readiness position over the course of a week. For the duration of the week if at all possible, the Child will be inside the Entry Plug at low synch. Food and water will be pre-provisioned in sealed vacuum package tubes, and biological waste will be handled with a modified plugsuit. To prevent mental fatuige, the EVA unit will have limited access to the NERV Berlin internal libraries, and a radio connection will be provided to civilian broadband. Testing will include simulated scrambles to the ready lift, basic long-term synchronization, and pilot endurance and concentration with ocasional mental tests.
Results:
Day 1
Morning Synch: 45%
Mental Test 1: 89/100
Scramble Time: 1:05.78
Mental Test 2: 84/100
Evening Synch: 45%
Day 2
Midnight Synch: 19%
Morning Synch: 39%
Mental Test 1: 66/100
Scramble Time: 55.36
Mental Test 2: 78/100
Evening Synch: 36%
Day 3
Midnight Synch: 16%
Morning Synch: 31%
Mental Test 1: 52/100
Scramble Time: 1:32.15
Mental Test 2: 67/100
Evening Synch: 33%
Day 4
Midnight Synch: 12%
Morning Synch: 26%
Mental Test 1: 45/100
Scramble Time: 2:45.78
Mental Test 2: 43/100
Evening Synch: 29%
Day 5
Midnight Synch: 9%
Morning Synch: 18%
Mental Test 1: 39/100
Scramble Time: 4:12.61
Mental Test 2: 24/100
Evening Synch: 15%
Day 6
Midnight Synch: Desynch (see Appendix A for technical explanation)
Morning Synch: 12%
Mental Test 1: 12/100
Scramble Time: 6:55.17
Mental Test 2: 14/100
Evening Synch: 8%
Day 7
Midnight Synch: 12%
Morning Synch: Desynch
Mental Test 1: 8/100
Scramble Time: 8:21.88
Mental Test 2: 2/100
Evening Synch: Desynch
Discussion
[ADMIN NOTE: READ APPENDIX C]
As is painfully apparent, any possibility of combat effectiveness was lost on the third day, when mental and neurological fatuige caused the pilot to engage in compounding failures in mental ability, synch scores, and general manuvering of the Evangellion to the launch system. Analysis of cockpit recordings indicate that mental strain and piloting stress may have caused a minor breakdown on day 6, but on removal from the Entry Pug at the end of test prooved that no detectable damages to the Pilot were sustained. Anylsis of this and later events indicates that under no circumstances should any sortt of deliberately prolonged Synch be performed again, to any Pilot, in any Unit.
[ADMIN NOTE: READ APPENDIX C]
Appendixes
Appendix A: On Desynch
>Due to vagarries of synchronization, a Pilot may be nominally de-synchrnoized when their synch is below 5% due to the fact that at such low synch the neural patterns may randomly disconnect without warning. The test equipment also cannot accurately measure synch scores this low due to lack of processing power for the lower-order functions that are what remain synchronized at this level.
Appendix B: Damages
>Over the course of expiriments, starting on Day 3, the Pilot had great dificulty using the launch cradle system, and caused great damages costing in sum several million euros to repair. They are listed as follows.
>Day 3: Crushed power socket, 4,000eu
>Day 4: Crushed power socket, 4,000eu; bent cradle frame, 12,000eu
>Day 5: Total destruction of cradle frame, 200,000eu
>Day 6: Extreme damage to floor/ceiling of passageway, 120,000eu, warped rails of magnetic catapult, 400,000eu, partial destruction of cradle frame, 130,000eu
>Day 7: Extreme damage to EVA holding dock, 300,000eu, Extreme damage to EVA holding bay, 75,000eu; severe damage to power main resulting in blackouts, 65,000eu direct damage and rolling blackouts for the next 9 hours through the Geofront; warped rails of mag catapult, 400,000eu; crushed recovery vehicles x8, 30,000eu
Appendix C: Events of 15/3/10
>After returning to her apartments on 3/14, the Second Child fell into a deep slumber. At 0126, she became deeply disturbed, reportedly flailing and screaming with volume for the microphones in the common area of the apartment to pick it up. Her guardian and caretaker, Mrs. Liefbach, entered the Child's room and attempted to wake her, presumably by touch. Camera footage shows through the door a series of sharp blows to Mrs. Leifbach, and medical analysis post-event reveals four cracked ribs and severe bruising of the torso and a dislocated shoulder and elbow of the left arm. A passing Section Two member, hearing the violence, opened the door to the quarters with his master key, prompting the Second Child to fly out and attack him. In the physical altercation, she managed to grab his belt-taser, and according to medical records post-facto, badly damage the trachea before discharging it. After stealing his cards and keys, she escaped her quarters.
>Over the course of the next four hours, night staff and guards were attacked if found, and many needed hospitalization post-facto. While no permanent damages were sustained to staff, records of the Second Child's exact deeds and location for this time are incredibly spotty.
>Attempted lockdowns were not effective, with areas thought to be secured turning to have several holes in their coverage. Using boxes, carts, air ducts, fake radio transmissions, cries of distress, and predatory engagement of lone NERV personnel, the Second Child escaped and evaded containment.
>The Second Child was later recovered at 1602 when a liscensed food vendor (Kemal's Kebabs) reported a red-haired child had snuck into his food truck and fell asleep on his bags of rice. She then slept until 0901 16/3/10, and while slightly neurotic for several days, was unaware of her actions committed in fugue.
>It is widely held by security staff that, had the Second Child acquired a weapon more dangerous than hand tasers and her own body, there would have been between three and twenty-six fatalities, depending on if she could acquire a gun. With her continual exercise and combat training regimes, estimates indicate this range could grow exponentially, presuming she maintains control of the engagements as demonstrated on 15/3/10.
Signed, 19/3/2010
Dr. Friedrieck Trzebinski, MD
Dr. Schubert Rose, PhD
Dr. Robert Mauz, MD, PhD
[ADMIN EDIT 5/10/2015: PAPER TAKEN OUT OF GENERAL LIBRARY CIRCULATION, ADDED TO DATABASE 'CATASTROPHIC FAILURE', NO REDACTED COPIES TO BE ISSUED, ADMIN NOTES ADDED]
Wrung out to Dry
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
Rolling out of your futon, you glared at the sun streaming in through the sliding door near your head. Your head was pounding, and it tasted like a den of badgers had set up shop in your mouth overnight.
"God, I hate the morning after." you muttered in a language, sitting up to assess the damage. You still reeked of cockpit, your hair looked like murder, and at some point your eyepatch had rotated around to cover up your left ear. Pulling it off, you squinted a nonexistent eye to find you left your spacer out, and sighed. Opening your suitcase, you pulled out a broad-tooth comb to start beating your hair back into shape and make sure none of it had done a dumb, while expertly survailing the apartment. Aside from the liquor shelf being messed up and a bottle of snake-killer rolling around on the ground, it was just normal party detritus. Good- you could get a jump on everyone and steal the shower for a serious wash, instead of the fast rinse you had on getting out of the cockpit.
Opening the door to the shower, you hopped in, and sighed happily. The warm water opened your skin right up, and it was easy to get a slight red stain on the loofa with your scrubbing as the orange gunk came steaming out. You'd do your hair later, in your own apartment, since that tended to be an involved process on the best of days. It came down to the middle of your back, now, and you planned to grow it out as long as you could. It looked beautiful, and after as much time as you'd spent tailoring your wardrobe to match it the best plan would be to use it as much as possible. Coming out, you towelled off and wandered into the main body of the apartment to get dressed. Black jeans, a silver sleeveless blouse, and a pair of dark leather hair thongs tied your appearance together enough to get to work on cleaning up the party mess and look good at it.
It was about fifteen minutes of bag-stuffing and sink-loading later that Shinji and Rei came out of their rooms, looking at you carefully.
"Good morning, Pilot Asuka." Rei said, at about the same time you realised that you'd forgotten to get a new eyepatch. The last one had gotten kinda crusty overnight, so since it was the emergency one you kept it the plugsuit, it had gone straight in the trash bag. Undoing one of your hair thongs and fanning your bangs forward, you turned to them and waved.
"Hello, Shinji, Rei." you said carefully, moving towards your suitcase. Pulling out one of your not-terrible patches (blue with a triskelion on it) you slid it on and set the tie in the back before fluffing and re-tying your hair. Turning towards them now that you weren't liable to horrify them, you tried to smile.
Shinji just looked at you, a mix of expressions on his face. Finally, something like acceptance won out, and he looked at you carefully. "Do you want breakfast with us, Soryu-san?"
A moment's consideration crossed you, before remembering Japanese McDonalds was probably just as bad as German McDonalds. "Sure. Just call me Asuka, though."
"Acceptable, Asuka." Rei said as she moved in to help you straighten out your guest futon in preparation for putting it away. As you folded it up to put in the closet, you caught a glimpse of those red eyes again, and had to suppress a shudder. Rei caught it, though, and turned to look at you fully. Staring back, defiantly, Rei glanced over to the kitchen before turning to face you.
"Last night, you called me Angel." Rei said, declaratively. "Why."
You just creased your brow. "I wasn't in my right mind." you said carefully. "I can't remember any of it."
"So you lost control of yourself, then?"
Now you glared. "Yes. It's called a traumatic response. If anything pushes me too far, bad things happen."
"I understand." Rei said carefully. "I think all of us pilots have that to some degree, then."
You didn't respond for a good forty minutes as the cleaning finished. Breakfast was likewise a quiet affair, and after that you bid your goodbye quietly to head to your apartment. It was a nice one-bedroom affair, with a good living room and kitchen with full bath. It was also full of boxes of your meagre possessions. Sighing, you just got to work with a tired glare at your stuff. Once your closet was set up, the next most headache-inducing thing was your electric piano and instrument station. You'd gotten a bachelor in music, and along the way you'd kept everything related to it. At this point your collection included a nice pair of Fenders in guitar and base, an old training violin that you'd faked into sounding like a Stravarious, the electric piano you did waaay too much stuff to for Casio's warranty to cover, a sixty-euro sax you'd picked up on a whim when you were in Courbourg, and the Oktava microphone set you had custom-ordered when there'd been a literal fire-sale after a coal mine accident in Russia. That, plus your amps, mixer, drum machine, and cables probably made up a solid third of your luggage, but it was worth it to you. Once everything was set up, you breathed in and out, sitting down at the piano. On one hand, you hated it's omnipresent nature in your field. On the other hand, though…
It let you do this. Anyone who said video game OSTs weren't real music were trash, and as you banged away on the piano to put her through the paces, you laughed a little. Everything worked! Perfect!
Then someone knocked on your door and your hands seized up. Getting up, you walked over, making sure your face was set. At the door was Shinji, Rei behind him, trying to smile at you.
"What?" you asked, opening the door a crack, the locking chain still tight.
"We were going shopping, and since you don't have any food here-" Shinji said, before you cut him off.
"I'll get a pizza."
"You don't have any of the places though?" Rei asked.
"I'll steal some of Misato's."
"Misato won't be back in time for a reasonable dinner." Rei replied. You just started glaring.
"I'll make ramen." you gripped. "Hell, I might even just make an MRE."
Shinji looked at you. Then he stared at you. Then he quietly walked out of the crack in your door's vision, into his apartment, before he came back with a pair of bolt cutters.
"Why do you have a pair of bolt cutters?" you asked numbly as the head of them surrounded your door chain.
"I found them." Shinji replied, setting them carefully. "Rei, a hand please?"
Rei blinked at him, but soon enough she was helping cut your door chain. Realizing that shopping was inevitable, you sighed as they broke into your house.
"Let the records show I do this under great duress." you muttered as you grabbed your purse.
"So am I." Shinji muttered dangerously.
After a short walk, you got down to a street-corner market that Shinji liked, and you went through it with a cast of gray to your features. Potatoes, rice, onions, beets, and a few choice cuts of meat were your main purchases, with a small handful of sweets going into a bag where Rei's red eyes couldn't see. Pretty soon, you managed to get enough stuff that you could ditch, and head back to your apartment where you could fix dinner and do your e-mail.
Once dinner- a simple porkchop and baked potatoes- later, and you were going over your e-mail. Blah blah meetings, blah blah synch test in a week, blah blah, school uniform would be coming over in the mail (it actually showed up before you and you'd rescue it from the building manager tomorrow morning), and now you had the hardest part of the day to do: plan your accessories. You knew, intellecutually, that it would be a white blouse and blue pianoforte, so after that it would be a challenge to see what would go with it.
Accessories Vote (Choose up to three; if more than three get half the votes then three highest will be chosen. If more than three are not over half, only the highest will be chosen)
[] Band vest. You've been going to concerts forever, and you've got every band patch you can, along with some other goodies.
[] A-10 Clips. You're a pilot, but it's not obvious. The question is, do you want to be a Pilot at school?
[] Class Ring. You graduated college, and you might as well show it. Plus, it really helps your right hook.
[] Earrings. Jewlery is the heart of a girl.
[] Makeup. You normally don't do makeup, since it takes time and your skin is already in danger of going to shit, but you might want to try.
[] Charm Bracelet. An old keepsake you learned to make with Misato. It took you years to figure out there was also a built in bottle opener.
[] A Book. More specifically, a copy of Dr. Faustus. You'd be fine to sneak some reading in during some of the lessons, right?
[] Pocketknife: A nice little Damascus number you'd gotten at the market with a stained amber and mother-of-pearl inlay handle. Very useful.
[] Folding Screwdriver: The jack of all trades, master of none.
"God, I hate the morning after." you muttered in a language, sitting up to assess the damage. You still reeked of cockpit, your hair looked like murder, and at some point your eyepatch had rotated around to cover up your left ear. Pulling it off, you squinted a nonexistent eye to find you left your spacer out, and sighed. Opening your suitcase, you pulled out a broad-tooth comb to start beating your hair back into shape and make sure none of it had done a dumb, while expertly survailing the apartment. Aside from the liquor shelf being messed up and a bottle of snake-killer rolling around on the ground, it was just normal party detritus. Good- you could get a jump on everyone and steal the shower for a serious wash, instead of the fast rinse you had on getting out of the cockpit.
Opening the door to the shower, you hopped in, and sighed happily. The warm water opened your skin right up, and it was easy to get a slight red stain on the loofa with your scrubbing as the orange gunk came steaming out. You'd do your hair later, in your own apartment, since that tended to be an involved process on the best of days. It came down to the middle of your back, now, and you planned to grow it out as long as you could. It looked beautiful, and after as much time as you'd spent tailoring your wardrobe to match it the best plan would be to use it as much as possible. Coming out, you towelled off and wandered into the main body of the apartment to get dressed. Black jeans, a silver sleeveless blouse, and a pair of dark leather hair thongs tied your appearance together enough to get to work on cleaning up the party mess and look good at it.
It was about fifteen minutes of bag-stuffing and sink-loading later that Shinji and Rei came out of their rooms, looking at you carefully.
"Good morning, Pilot Asuka." Rei said, at about the same time you realised that you'd forgotten to get a new eyepatch. The last one had gotten kinda crusty overnight, so since it was the emergency one you kept it the plugsuit, it had gone straight in the trash bag. Undoing one of your hair thongs and fanning your bangs forward, you turned to them and waved.
"Hello, Shinji, Rei." you said carefully, moving towards your suitcase. Pulling out one of your not-terrible patches (blue with a triskelion on it) you slid it on and set the tie in the back before fluffing and re-tying your hair. Turning towards them now that you weren't liable to horrify them, you tried to smile.
Shinji just looked at you, a mix of expressions on his face. Finally, something like acceptance won out, and he looked at you carefully. "Do you want breakfast with us, Soryu-san?"
A moment's consideration crossed you, before remembering Japanese McDonalds was probably just as bad as German McDonalds. "Sure. Just call me Asuka, though."
"Acceptable, Asuka." Rei said as she moved in to help you straighten out your guest futon in preparation for putting it away. As you folded it up to put in the closet, you caught a glimpse of those red eyes again, and had to suppress a shudder. Rei caught it, though, and turned to look at you fully. Staring back, defiantly, Rei glanced over to the kitchen before turning to face you.
"Last night, you called me Angel." Rei said, declaratively. "Why."
You just creased your brow. "I wasn't in my right mind." you said carefully. "I can't remember any of it."
"So you lost control of yourself, then?"
Now you glared. "Yes. It's called a traumatic response. If anything pushes me too far, bad things happen."
"I understand." Rei said carefully. "I think all of us pilots have that to some degree, then."
You didn't respond for a good forty minutes as the cleaning finished. Breakfast was likewise a quiet affair, and after that you bid your goodbye quietly to head to your apartment. It was a nice one-bedroom affair, with a good living room and kitchen with full bath. It was also full of boxes of your meagre possessions. Sighing, you just got to work with a tired glare at your stuff. Once your closet was set up, the next most headache-inducing thing was your electric piano and instrument station. You'd gotten a bachelor in music, and along the way you'd kept everything related to it. At this point your collection included a nice pair of Fenders in guitar and base, an old training violin that you'd faked into sounding like a Stravarious, the electric piano you did waaay too much stuff to for Casio's warranty to cover, a sixty-euro sax you'd picked up on a whim when you were in Courbourg, and the Oktava microphone set you had custom-ordered when there'd been a literal fire-sale after a coal mine accident in Russia. That, plus your amps, mixer, drum machine, and cables probably made up a solid third of your luggage, but it was worth it to you. Once everything was set up, you breathed in and out, sitting down at the piano. On one hand, you hated it's omnipresent nature in your field. On the other hand, though…
It let you do this. Anyone who said video game OSTs weren't real music were trash, and as you banged away on the piano to put her through the paces, you laughed a little. Everything worked! Perfect!
Then someone knocked on your door and your hands seized up. Getting up, you walked over, making sure your face was set. At the door was Shinji, Rei behind him, trying to smile at you.
"What?" you asked, opening the door a crack, the locking chain still tight.
"We were going shopping, and since you don't have any food here-" Shinji said, before you cut him off.
"I'll get a pizza."
"You don't have any of the places though?" Rei asked.
"I'll steal some of Misato's."
"Misato won't be back in time for a reasonable dinner." Rei replied. You just started glaring.
"I'll make ramen." you gripped. "Hell, I might even just make an MRE."
Shinji looked at you. Then he stared at you. Then he quietly walked out of the crack in your door's vision, into his apartment, before he came back with a pair of bolt cutters.
"Why do you have a pair of bolt cutters?" you asked numbly as the head of them surrounded your door chain.
"I found them." Shinji replied, setting them carefully. "Rei, a hand please?"
Rei blinked at him, but soon enough she was helping cut your door chain. Realizing that shopping was inevitable, you sighed as they broke into your house.
"Let the records show I do this under great duress." you muttered as you grabbed your purse.
"So am I." Shinji muttered dangerously.
After a short walk, you got down to a street-corner market that Shinji liked, and you went through it with a cast of gray to your features. Potatoes, rice, onions, beets, and a few choice cuts of meat were your main purchases, with a small handful of sweets going into a bag where Rei's red eyes couldn't see. Pretty soon, you managed to get enough stuff that you could ditch, and head back to your apartment where you could fix dinner and do your e-mail.
Once dinner- a simple porkchop and baked potatoes- later, and you were going over your e-mail. Blah blah meetings, blah blah synch test in a week, blah blah, school uniform would be coming over in the mail (it actually showed up before you and you'd rescue it from the building manager tomorrow morning), and now you had the hardest part of the day to do: plan your accessories. You knew, intellecutually, that it would be a white blouse and blue pianoforte, so after that it would be a challenge to see what would go with it.
Accessories Vote (Choose up to three; if more than three get half the votes then three highest will be chosen. If more than three are not over half, only the highest will be chosen)
[] Band vest. You've been going to concerts forever, and you've got every band patch you can, along with some other goodies.
[] A-10 Clips. You're a pilot, but it's not obvious. The question is, do you want to be a Pilot at school?
[] Class Ring. You graduated college, and you might as well show it. Plus, it really helps your right hook.
[] Earrings. Jewlery is the heart of a girl.
[] Makeup. You normally don't do makeup, since it takes time and your skin is already in danger of going to shit, but you might want to try.
[] Charm Bracelet. An old keepsake you learned to make with Misato. It took you years to figure out there was also a built in bottle opener.
[] A Book. More specifically, a copy of Dr. Faustus. You'd be fine to sneak some reading in during some of the lessons, right?
[] Pocketknife: A nice little Damascus number you'd gotten at the market with a stained amber and mother-of-pearl inlay handle. Very useful.
[] Folding Screwdriver: The jack of all trades, master of none.
A Friend?
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
Hearing your alarm blaring away at 0600, you glared at the small green-diode alarm clock before slapping the top of it angrily. Throwing on a pair of pants and an old hoodie, you tramped down to the front office with your key to open your dropbox. It wasn't much later that you were back in your apartment, fluffing out the uniform. Blue pianoforte, white blouse, black stockings. It wasn't as atrocious as some of the stuff you'd seen over the years, but it tried to bury you under some sense of formality, a dignity that wasn't your own. Balls to that.
Once you'd appointed yourself in the clothes correctly and had your hair tied back, the eyepatch case beckoned. It was your first day, so it would beseech you to use formality- a straight black monopiece would serve. Straightening your eyelashes out from their inward curl, you tied it on carefully, before re-working your flame-bright hair to fall around and hide the majority of the fabric. That bare necessity handled, the rest of your work came together easily. A folding screwdriver slipped into your blouse (and hung off the top button with a thin string, bringing the neckline down and keeping it out of your boobs) covered your tools, while sliding on your class ring and old rock vest made you feel right at home. Rolling the ring carefully, you smiled. College had been… difficult… but it had been worth it to stand there in your too-big cap and hemmed gown, watching the world scream your name.
Shaking your head briskly, you grabbed your schoolbag. Reminiscing later, breakfast now. You weren't quite sure when classes started versus how long it would take you to get to school, but the gates opened at seven according to the information you'd found in the generic pamphlet, and you planned to be bright and early. Breakfast, therefore, was going to be a bagel with lox, some strong coffee brewing in your moka, and a tangerine you stuffed in the top of your bag. Pouring the coffee straight into your coffee thermos and grabbing the bagel and lox, you went out the front door with a swagger in your step. It was a nice day, only about twenty-three degrees, and nary a cloud in the sky. Why, if you stretched your eye a little, you thought you could see the school's baseball diamond from your apartment building!
About ten minutes later, you figured out that yes, that was the baseball diamond for one; and for two dear sweet Christ were you early! The janitor was still handing off the keys to the first teacher to come in, with a young girl standing off to the side, tapping her foot angrily. Since she was the only one in this turkey shoot of a uniform and you were done with the bagel, you moved over carefully.
"Good morning." you said, smiling. Looking over at you, the girl jumped for a second, before cracking a nervous smile at you.
"Good morning." she said back. "Ah, you're quite early. A new student?"
You nodded. "Yes. I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get over here, so I decided to come early."
The girl smiled, and bowed politely. "Oh, good! I'm Horaki Hikari, Class 2-A Representative."
Hiding your confusion, you nodded. "Asuka Langley Soryu, at your service. Now that you mention it, though, I do believe I'm in class 2-A."
Horaki beamed at you, and you mentally gulped. "Perfect!" she said. "Anyone who understands coming in early is a friend of mine, Soryu-san."
You smiled, and followed Horaki to the classroom. It was a neat little thing, with her taking the time to explain all the things you didn't know and you making the obliging foriegner sounds. You didn't mean that sarcastically- there were a lot of things she told you that you didn't know, and was very understanding when you mentioned a desire not to get up in front of the class while your schoolmates filtered in. Of course, with class starting soon, you had to shove your vest in a locker and get to your seat- and Horaki shot you a sympathetic look when the teacher called you up to the front of the class.
"And now, a new student." he said, slightly sleep-deprived. "Please introduce yourself."
You nodded, and bowed to the class. "Hello. I'm Asuka Soryu. I hope our time together goes well."
Coming up from the bow, the your hair shifted slightly, showing the black of your eyepatch- and then the muttering started.
///
It wasn't until lunch started that you managed to corner Hokari, intending to let her have both barrels before she held up a hand.
"I'm sorry about that." she said carefully. "If it makes you feel better, I can share some of my lunch?"
Looking at the absolute football of a curry bread you'd picked up, you nodded. The cafeteria here was a fucking joke. Soon you were enjoying omurice and some little hamburger patty things, which tasted nice. Once you'd eaten a good bit and offered some of the curry bread (which you found more effective as a plate than as food) Horaki started talking to you.
"Soryu-san…" she began, only for you to wave a hand.
"You can call me Asuka, you know." you said, smiling a little. "You understand what it's like, some."
"My dad's missing some fingers from a construction accident." Hokari said, smiling bitterly. "It doesn't scare me. Either way, if I can call you Asuka, you can call me Hikari."
You nodded. "If you can cook like this, I'll call you whatever you want! It's better than I could make, that's for sure!"
Hikari cocked a head. "Oh?"
"I'd need to find a butcher's shop to get anything I'm really used to, and most of it I can only cook on the weekends." you explained. "Most of it takes a few hours to make."
"I'll have to come over sometime, then." Hikari said, smiling. "It'll make up for making extra in the mornings."
"I couldn't impose!" you said, waving your hands.
"I insist."
"But-"
Looking you dead in the eye, Hikari picked up the curry bread and poked you with it. "I. Insist. If I have to insist any harder, I might even need to ask if all those patches on your vest are appropriate for school!"
Your hands dropped. "Fine…"
"There, there." Hikari said, soothingly. "If it makes you feel better, I'll bring my sister too, since I know she likes trying new food."
The conversation on food went on until the end of lunch, brightening your spirits intensely. The only downside was after lunch came gym. That wasn't the problem, no. The problem with gym was the inkling of deja-vu you got in the locker room. Right now it was track and field, though, and after getting out of the jumping events, it kept prickling you in the back of the neck. You could easily ignore it, though, watching Shinji throw himself over the hurdles with a manic energy, Rei doing almost as well. Everything was going fine, until Shinji cocked up a landing, screaming out. Rei and you were on scene first, and the diagnosis was simple- twisted ankle. Someone would have to help him get to the first-aid room; but as you squatted down next to him your deja-vu picked up again; and damn hard, too. Last time you'd been as psyched as this was the day before you got the memo you were coming here. With your sixth sense banging away on full blast, you almost missed Rei's words.
"I can escort him to the infirmary alone, Soryu." she said, frosty. Now, though, you were torn: follow your gut, or get Shinji inside? Moving towards him, Rei stepped into your motion, catching your wrist.
"I said, I can handle it. Alone." she said again, meeting your eye very deliberately. Great- now you had a choice to make.
[] Follow your gut, and track down whatever's got your sixth sense banging like a low battery alarm in the EVA.
[] To hell with Rei and her misplaced stoicism, Shinji's gotten himself hurt. If he puts any weight on that sprain, he'll start screaming.
Once you'd appointed yourself in the clothes correctly and had your hair tied back, the eyepatch case beckoned. It was your first day, so it would beseech you to use formality- a straight black monopiece would serve. Straightening your eyelashes out from their inward curl, you tied it on carefully, before re-working your flame-bright hair to fall around and hide the majority of the fabric. That bare necessity handled, the rest of your work came together easily. A folding screwdriver slipped into your blouse (and hung off the top button with a thin string, bringing the neckline down and keeping it out of your boobs) covered your tools, while sliding on your class ring and old rock vest made you feel right at home. Rolling the ring carefully, you smiled. College had been… difficult… but it had been worth it to stand there in your too-big cap and hemmed gown, watching the world scream your name.
Shaking your head briskly, you grabbed your schoolbag. Reminiscing later, breakfast now. You weren't quite sure when classes started versus how long it would take you to get to school, but the gates opened at seven according to the information you'd found in the generic pamphlet, and you planned to be bright and early. Breakfast, therefore, was going to be a bagel with lox, some strong coffee brewing in your moka, and a tangerine you stuffed in the top of your bag. Pouring the coffee straight into your coffee thermos and grabbing the bagel and lox, you went out the front door with a swagger in your step. It was a nice day, only about twenty-three degrees, and nary a cloud in the sky. Why, if you stretched your eye a little, you thought you could see the school's baseball diamond from your apartment building!
About ten minutes later, you figured out that yes, that was the baseball diamond for one; and for two dear sweet Christ were you early! The janitor was still handing off the keys to the first teacher to come in, with a young girl standing off to the side, tapping her foot angrily. Since she was the only one in this turkey shoot of a uniform and you were done with the bagel, you moved over carefully.
"Good morning." you said, smiling. Looking over at you, the girl jumped for a second, before cracking a nervous smile at you.
"Good morning." she said back. "Ah, you're quite early. A new student?"
You nodded. "Yes. I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get over here, so I decided to come early."
The girl smiled, and bowed politely. "Oh, good! I'm Horaki Hikari, Class 2-A Representative."
Hiding your confusion, you nodded. "Asuka Langley Soryu, at your service. Now that you mention it, though, I do believe I'm in class 2-A."
Horaki beamed at you, and you mentally gulped. "Perfect!" she said. "Anyone who understands coming in early is a friend of mine, Soryu-san."
You smiled, and followed Horaki to the classroom. It was a neat little thing, with her taking the time to explain all the things you didn't know and you making the obliging foriegner sounds. You didn't mean that sarcastically- there were a lot of things she told you that you didn't know, and was very understanding when you mentioned a desire not to get up in front of the class while your schoolmates filtered in. Of course, with class starting soon, you had to shove your vest in a locker and get to your seat- and Horaki shot you a sympathetic look when the teacher called you up to the front of the class.
"And now, a new student." he said, slightly sleep-deprived. "Please introduce yourself."
You nodded, and bowed to the class. "Hello. I'm Asuka Soryu. I hope our time together goes well."
Coming up from the bow, the your hair shifted slightly, showing the black of your eyepatch- and then the muttering started.
///
It wasn't until lunch started that you managed to corner Hokari, intending to let her have both barrels before she held up a hand.
"I'm sorry about that." she said carefully. "If it makes you feel better, I can share some of my lunch?"
Looking at the absolute football of a curry bread you'd picked up, you nodded. The cafeteria here was a fucking joke. Soon you were enjoying omurice and some little hamburger patty things, which tasted nice. Once you'd eaten a good bit and offered some of the curry bread (which you found more effective as a plate than as food) Horaki started talking to you.
"Soryu-san…" she began, only for you to wave a hand.
"You can call me Asuka, you know." you said, smiling a little. "You understand what it's like, some."
"My dad's missing some fingers from a construction accident." Hokari said, smiling bitterly. "It doesn't scare me. Either way, if I can call you Asuka, you can call me Hikari."
You nodded. "If you can cook like this, I'll call you whatever you want! It's better than I could make, that's for sure!"
Hikari cocked a head. "Oh?"
"I'd need to find a butcher's shop to get anything I'm really used to, and most of it I can only cook on the weekends." you explained. "Most of it takes a few hours to make."
"I'll have to come over sometime, then." Hikari said, smiling. "It'll make up for making extra in the mornings."
"I couldn't impose!" you said, waving your hands.
"I insist."
"But-"
Looking you dead in the eye, Hikari picked up the curry bread and poked you with it. "I. Insist. If I have to insist any harder, I might even need to ask if all those patches on your vest are appropriate for school!"
Your hands dropped. "Fine…"
"There, there." Hikari said, soothingly. "If it makes you feel better, I'll bring my sister too, since I know she likes trying new food."
The conversation on food went on until the end of lunch, brightening your spirits intensely. The only downside was after lunch came gym. That wasn't the problem, no. The problem with gym was the inkling of deja-vu you got in the locker room. Right now it was track and field, though, and after getting out of the jumping events, it kept prickling you in the back of the neck. You could easily ignore it, though, watching Shinji throw himself over the hurdles with a manic energy, Rei doing almost as well. Everything was going fine, until Shinji cocked up a landing, screaming out. Rei and you were on scene first, and the diagnosis was simple- twisted ankle. Someone would have to help him get to the first-aid room; but as you squatted down next to him your deja-vu picked up again; and damn hard, too. Last time you'd been as psyched as this was the day before you got the memo you were coming here. With your sixth sense banging away on full blast, you almost missed Rei's words.
"I can escort him to the infirmary alone, Soryu." she said, frosty. Now, though, you were torn: follow your gut, or get Shinji inside? Moving towards him, Rei stepped into your motion, catching your wrist.
"I said, I can handle it. Alone." she said again, meeting your eye very deliberately. Great- now you had a choice to make.
[] Follow your gut, and track down whatever's got your sixth sense banging like a low battery alarm in the EVA.
[] To hell with Rei and her misplaced stoicism, Shinji's gotten himself hurt. If he puts any weight on that sprain, he'll start screaming.
Write-in are forbidden
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
No write-ins or expanding votes. While I appreciate the logic and mindset that provides them, this is a strictly narrative quest; that in turn means that each of the options has well-defined places it will go in terms of character development and in terms of plot. It completely steals the impact of the main scene of a vote if I have to spend five to eight hundred words of Asuka accidentally provoking Rei into a catfight or vice versa beforehand, less the transitions and fades and scenery chewing that serves as your window into the State of Asuka, all before I come up to the real point like oh hey that's Kawarou in the bushes with a scope (as a hypothetical example). It makes it so things don't quite fit, you see?
Theme in G Minor
7734
Trust and verify.
- Location
- Philmont
Nodding at Rei, you started stalking off into the bushy area around the school. With your sixth sense rocking and rolling like a half-drunk Meatloaf concert, you started stealthing your way into the trees, before climbing one and focusing. Observation was hard- the longer you tried, the more things would come to distract you. Still, if you slowed your breathing and waited for the right moment...
There! It was a flash of something, possibly the sun off a lens. Climbing down quickly, you started after it in a dead sprint. Leaping and diving through the bushes, you got to the vague area you thought you saw it in, but there was nothing. Fine. Time to switch tactics, and start a radial search. If you'd actually seen something in the bushes, a radial search would get you close enough to find sign of the blind or the escape route. You just had to keep pounding the ground until it came up- there! A hint!
Alright, not like an empty tin of pringles was much of a hint, but it got you more data. More importantly, if you triangulated this tin of pringles and where you thought you saw the lens flash come from, you had a pretty decent cone of error for where the hide would be. Turning left, you started zig-zagging back into the woods, looking for all the world like a lost student. You weren't lost, though, just looking for something. Something like that tree limb that had fallen down, for instance, and was completely the wrong color. Bingo. Moving in, you brushed aside camouflage netting that had been stitched together out of six different moth-eaten originals, and hit the gold mine. A small buried cooler full of film, some well-used binoculars, and most importantly a great view out the front of the blind. You could see the entire track, several classroom windows, and most importantly some of the sports storage sheds. Yeah. Someone had put some planning into this. Grabbing your screwdriver, you carved a quick message up by the sightline of the hide, and smiled. While it was best to be feared and loved, fear alone could work for some problems just fine.
Ich weiß das du hier bist, und mag das nicht. Wenn ich dein Fernrohr nochmal sehe, reiße ich es selber ab.
Leaving the now-known hide, you got back to gym class just as things were ending. Cleanup in the locker room was fast and simple, and you were back to class quickly. Once the next class, history, started, though, you got a very annoying note on your school laptop.
[Hikari2-A: Hey, Asuka, so what went down in gym today?]
[NEWSTUDENT3: Felt like I was getting watched. Also, is this a public channel?]
What was up with your handle, anyway?
[NEWSTUDENT3: Also, how do I change my handle?]
[Hikari2-A: First one is /nick. As for 'being watched' well…]
[NEWSTUDENT3 is now set to Freyja]
[Hikari2-A: you didn't hear it from me, but there's some perv taking panty shots and stuff. If I find him, he's dead.]
[Hikari2-A: Also I have no idea what that name is supposed to be.]
[Freyja: Norse goddess of war, beauty, magic, and a few other things. Old handle from when I had to use a classified IRC server where we couldn't use our real names. Think I found his hide, though, so that's one major problem handled. If you have anyone sniffing the German books, that's a good sign they're him.]
[Hikari2-A: Thanks for the tip.]
[Freyja: Can you do me a solid, though? I need to get Shinji on his own tomorrow at some point, so can you break Rei off him?]
[Hikari2-A: You'll owe me one.]
[Freyja: I'll live with it.]
The classroom dropped a few degrees in temperature as Hikari started rubbing her hands together, before perching her elbows on her desk and leaning into her steepled fingers. As everyone looked at her, Rei started shuddering very faintly before you got a ping on the laptop.
[Rei: Please take the Class Rep to the Nurses' Office, or I may have to. She is hideously out of sorts, and appears to be under the same effects as Commander Ikari when he is in a fey mood.]
[Freyja: With pleasure]
///
It was about a week later that everything had started to calm down. You'd even banged out a good routine, with dinner at Misato's with Shinji and Rei on Tuesday and Thursdays, school every day, and your compositions taking up a decent amount of time as you banged away on the piano and synth to get something working. Your muse was crashed in a ditch, though, leaving you out on the balcony one evening looking out at the Tokyo-3 skyline. Digging around in your vest pockets, you sighed. All you had was an old zippo, and a few half-soaked cigarettes that wouldn't do you a lick of good with how long they'd been in your pocket. When did you get them, Wacken? Probably Wacken. Meh.
Throwing them over the balcony's edge, you heard a soft sound in the distance. It was a cellist? Leaning against the railing, you closed your eye, and opened your ears. It was a cellist, all right, and a damn good one. If you weren't wrong, they were playing theme music to something? A movie? You didn't recognize it, but it sounded pleasant. Smiling, you opened your eye, and looked left. Two balconies down, Shinji was pulling away at his cello, happy as a clam as he practiced the bugs out of a beautiful little solo. Sighing, you looked at your own sheet music, just inside the door. The leitmotif was done, a pulsing heartbeat on synth'd string, but the piano backing and drum track were just completely whiffing. Fine, shelve One-Winged Bird for another day, when you could hammer away without feeling guilty. The combination rap-hymn thing you'd had on the backburner since forever was likewise right out, since that was a vocal piece and God forbid you find someone who could rap. That said… if you looked around…
Aha! You'd been planning a big thing for the Unicorn Suite you'd been writing, and you did need some ideas for the second half of it! That would be perfect, and you could bring Sternengesang over with it since it was the baseplate for the second half and if Shinji had compressed a theme down to his cello he could definitely help blend a vocal/guitar mix into full orchestra.
Or you could stop thinking so selfishly, Asuka, and just go over and jam. Grab your saxophone, jump two balconies, and get right down to it. Even classical musicians liked having some time to just let it go, and if he knew proper penatonics and diminished scales you could actually do jazz again. It'd been a few years since you'd busted out your sax, but you'd be happy to do it again.
Or maybe something else? Let fate guide your hand, and see what happened?
CHOOSE YOUR INSTRUMENT
[] Saxophone. Probably gonna do jazz, if Shinji can keep up.
[] Violin. For a more classic air, and because why not? If nothing else, you know he can keep up.
[] Guitar. All else fails, any old idiot can work with three chords and the truth.
[] Base. Nothing like playing around in the same tonal range, right?
[]Piano/Drum Machine. No. You are not moving your literal mission control station. If Shinji wants it, he can come well visit to use it.
[] Sheet Music. Hey, he's good enough to help out put together a cello part if he can make his own solo.
There! It was a flash of something, possibly the sun off a lens. Climbing down quickly, you started after it in a dead sprint. Leaping and diving through the bushes, you got to the vague area you thought you saw it in, but there was nothing. Fine. Time to switch tactics, and start a radial search. If you'd actually seen something in the bushes, a radial search would get you close enough to find sign of the blind or the escape route. You just had to keep pounding the ground until it came up- there! A hint!
Alright, not like an empty tin of pringles was much of a hint, but it got you more data. More importantly, if you triangulated this tin of pringles and where you thought you saw the lens flash come from, you had a pretty decent cone of error for where the hide would be. Turning left, you started zig-zagging back into the woods, looking for all the world like a lost student. You weren't lost, though, just looking for something. Something like that tree limb that had fallen down, for instance, and was completely the wrong color. Bingo. Moving in, you brushed aside camouflage netting that had been stitched together out of six different moth-eaten originals, and hit the gold mine. A small buried cooler full of film, some well-used binoculars, and most importantly a great view out the front of the blind. You could see the entire track, several classroom windows, and most importantly some of the sports storage sheds. Yeah. Someone had put some planning into this. Grabbing your screwdriver, you carved a quick message up by the sightline of the hide, and smiled. While it was best to be feared and loved, fear alone could work for some problems just fine.
Ich weiß das du hier bist, und mag das nicht. Wenn ich dein Fernrohr nochmal sehe, reiße ich es selber ab.
Leaving the now-known hide, you got back to gym class just as things were ending. Cleanup in the locker room was fast and simple, and you were back to class quickly. Once the next class, history, started, though, you got a very annoying note on your school laptop.
[Hikari2-A: Hey, Asuka, so what went down in gym today?]
[NEWSTUDENT3: Felt like I was getting watched. Also, is this a public channel?]
What was up with your handle, anyway?
[NEWSTUDENT3: Also, how do I change my handle?]
[Hikari2-A: First one is /nick. As for 'being watched' well…]
[NEWSTUDENT3 is now set to Freyja]
[Hikari2-A: you didn't hear it from me, but there's some perv taking panty shots and stuff. If I find him, he's dead.]
[Hikari2-A: Also I have no idea what that name is supposed to be.]
[Freyja: Norse goddess of war, beauty, magic, and a few other things. Old handle from when I had to use a classified IRC server where we couldn't use our real names. Think I found his hide, though, so that's one major problem handled. If you have anyone sniffing the German books, that's a good sign they're him.]
[Hikari2-A: Thanks for the tip.]
[Freyja: Can you do me a solid, though? I need to get Shinji on his own tomorrow at some point, so can you break Rei off him?]
[Hikari2-A: You'll owe me one.]
[Freyja: I'll live with it.]
The classroom dropped a few degrees in temperature as Hikari started rubbing her hands together, before perching her elbows on her desk and leaning into her steepled fingers. As everyone looked at her, Rei started shuddering very faintly before you got a ping on the laptop.
[Rei: Please take the Class Rep to the Nurses' Office, or I may have to. She is hideously out of sorts, and appears to be under the same effects as Commander Ikari when he is in a fey mood.]
[Freyja: With pleasure]
///
It was about a week later that everything had started to calm down. You'd even banged out a good routine, with dinner at Misato's with Shinji and Rei on Tuesday and Thursdays, school every day, and your compositions taking up a decent amount of time as you banged away on the piano and synth to get something working. Your muse was crashed in a ditch, though, leaving you out on the balcony one evening looking out at the Tokyo-3 skyline. Digging around in your vest pockets, you sighed. All you had was an old zippo, and a few half-soaked cigarettes that wouldn't do you a lick of good with how long they'd been in your pocket. When did you get them, Wacken? Probably Wacken. Meh.
Throwing them over the balcony's edge, you heard a soft sound in the distance. It was a cellist? Leaning against the railing, you closed your eye, and opened your ears. It was a cellist, all right, and a damn good one. If you weren't wrong, they were playing theme music to something? A movie? You didn't recognize it, but it sounded pleasant. Smiling, you opened your eye, and looked left. Two balconies down, Shinji was pulling away at his cello, happy as a clam as he practiced the bugs out of a beautiful little solo. Sighing, you looked at your own sheet music, just inside the door. The leitmotif was done, a pulsing heartbeat on synth'd string, but the piano backing and drum track were just completely whiffing. Fine, shelve One-Winged Bird for another day, when you could hammer away without feeling guilty. The combination rap-hymn thing you'd had on the backburner since forever was likewise right out, since that was a vocal piece and God forbid you find someone who could rap. That said… if you looked around…
Aha! You'd been planning a big thing for the Unicorn Suite you'd been writing, and you did need some ideas for the second half of it! That would be perfect, and you could bring Sternengesang over with it since it was the baseplate for the second half and if Shinji had compressed a theme down to his cello he could definitely help blend a vocal/guitar mix into full orchestra.
Or you could stop thinking so selfishly, Asuka, and just go over and jam. Grab your saxophone, jump two balconies, and get right down to it. Even classical musicians liked having some time to just let it go, and if he knew proper penatonics and diminished scales you could actually do jazz again. It'd been a few years since you'd busted out your sax, but you'd be happy to do it again.
Or maybe something else? Let fate guide your hand, and see what happened?
CHOOSE YOUR INSTRUMENT
[] Saxophone. Probably gonna do jazz, if Shinji can keep up.
[] Violin. For a more classic air, and because why not? If nothing else, you know he can keep up.
[] Guitar. All else fails, any old idiot can work with three chords and the truth.
[] Base. Nothing like playing around in the same tonal range, right?
[]
[] Sheet Music. Hey, he's good enough to help out put together a cello part if he can make his own solo.