New Century
100 years after The End of Evangelion, the final Angel remains.
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As society rebuilds following Third Impact, new differences threaten to undo a century of progress. Conflict stirs between Outliers, souls that find their own way back to Earth, and the pejoratively named "Lilin," those who are unwillingly resurrected in scores by a private corporation: the UN-supported Nerv and their mysterious Osiris project. Claims of territorial control, individual freedom, and the legitimacy of one another's humanity define the political landscape of a world where, against the optimism of those who envisioned it, no one has learned a thing.
Living above the tensions outside is a young woman, drowning in the luxuries of wealth and the stability of Berlin: headquarters of Nerv and de facto world capital. Asuka Langley Soryu, now in her 20s, having returned long after Tokyo-III's fall like most, spends her days without motivation. Trading prestige and ambition for a sedentary life in her father's home, she has let 9 years roll by unspent. Despite the nightmares of the past, however, nothing haunts her mind more than the potential visit from Mr. Langley, war's scars all but erased before she arrived in the city.
After an argument over her therapy results in eviction, justifications for Asuka's lifestyle begin to run out and she is forced to confront why the person she was is no more. One night will reveal the answer, and deliver her into a world more unbearable than any before.
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New Century
Moderators: Derantor, Board Staff
New Century
Last edited by Clover on Fri Dec 25, 2015 12:46 am, edited 20 times in total.
Structure
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Part 1: A Belated Eviction, and a Night on the Town
December 24, 2116: 3:00 PM - 9:00 PM
Part 2: Trapped Outside an Elevator, and a Party of Escape Artists
December 24-25, 2116: 9:00 PM - 3:00 AM
Part 3: Separation, Descent, and the Birth of a New Century
December 25, 2116: 3:00 AM - 7:00 AM
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Cast
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Asuka Langley Soryu: The Princess
Thomas Langley: The Saint
Jillian Bray: The Priestess
"Gawain": The Knight
Gladys Pennant: The Physician
King (Effi Koehler): The Mercenary
Shigeru Aoba: The Technician
Shoko Yamada: The Idiot
Evelyn Pennant
Quinn O'Connor
Ed Fowler
Shinji Ikari
Sam
Rei Ayanami
Misato Katsuragi
Ritsuko Akagi
Yui Ikari
Jet Alone
Evangelion Unit-04
Evangelion Unit-01
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Part 1: A Belated Eviction, and a Night on the Town
December 24, 2116: 3:00 PM - 9:00 PM
Part 2: Trapped Outside an Elevator, and a Party of Escape Artists
December 24-25, 2116: 9:00 PM - 3:00 AM
Part 3: Separation, Descent, and the Birth of a New Century
December 25, 2116: 3:00 AM - 7:00 AM
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Cast
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Asuka Langley Soryu: The Princess
Thomas Langley: The Saint
Jillian Bray: The Priestess
"Gawain": The Knight
Gladys Pennant: The Physician
King (Effi Koehler): The Mercenary
Shigeru Aoba: The Technician
Shoko Yamada: The Idiot
Evelyn Pennant
Quinn O'Connor
Ed Fowler
Shinji Ikari
Sam
Rei Ayanami
Misato Katsuragi
Ritsuko Akagi
Yui Ikari
Jet Alone
Evangelion Unit-04
Evangelion Unit-01
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Last edited by Clover on Fri Dec 25, 2015 12:42 am, edited 16 times in total.
I-1: Breakfast on a Ruined Rug (summary)
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SPOILER: Show
On December 24th, Asuka comes to in a daze, sitting upright on the couch in her apartment-sized bedroom. It is summer outside. A Christmas film is playing on TV, the sound blaring at a level that should have awakened her hours ago, but it doesn't seem that she was really asleep. Given the state of her room, it looks like she has been awake for hours, showering and getting dressed, making her bed; there is also evidence of forgotten meals, from a stack of empty dishes on the table. Even her eyes had already been open when conscious thought resumed, as if she were sleepwalking before. But she knows no one could sleepwalk an entire day away, it being 5 pm. She explores her room, now as an intruder, piecing together what happened while she was "out," and encounters uncharacteristic oddities, the strangest being twenty or so incomplete paper animals littering the floor, made from pages of a textbook she had purchased and never read. Usually clean, but rarely creative, Asuka tiptoes around them like land mines, hesitant to touch something so alien despite wanting to reclaim her space. They surround the couch, as if to trap her there. As she summons the courage to pick one up, noticing that it is the only finished creature, there is a knock at the door. She shoves the verbose beast into her pocket, crumpling it part way.
Her father has arrived home, a rare occurrence for a man of his position. She feigns normalcy, attempting to hide the expensive and now shredded textbook in the seat cushions. The man, who often goes by his surname Langley, attempts small talk with his estranged yet dependant 24 year old daughter, and offers to make dinner, his reasoning being that it is Christmas Eve. Nine years had passed the two, under the same roof, without a shared meal, making her suspicious. Despite the apparently massive amount she had eaten that day, she is not sated, and a roaring hunger grows at the very mention of food. Asuka turns him down, however, wanting nothing to do with the hated father who somehow found success and public adoration after Third Impact, while she fell into obscurity despite fighting to protect the world [A fate she brought on herself]. As the face of the company [supposedly] responsible for the technology restoring humanity and the environment at breakneck speed, Langley has become a modern saint to those living under the umbrella of the reformed U.N., but a demon to Outliers, [scattered groups of people who come back naturally ("imagine yourself") and reject the return of the old world order] whose territory the world government is trying to reclaim for its "rightful owners."
Langley would normally leave after being shut out emotionally, afraid of crushing the delicate flower Asuka appeared to be despite nearly a decade of therapy and time to recover. This time he doesn't. Eager to please his daughter in the past, both to mend their relationship and her purportedly tortured soul, Langley had allowed Asuka to live work and education free since she arrived in Berlin [as an Outlier who wanted nothing to do with their cause]. She exploited this for revenge mostly, sucking up vast amounts of her father's money and consistently disappointing him with failed endeavors, but also out of a sense that a hero and the daughter of a genius scientist didn't need to put forth any additional effort to feel satisfied or potentially accomplish great things later in life. Deep down, though, she senses that she doesn't have the skills and common knowledge of her peers to be able to survive in the real world, having spent her entire life on rails. Boasts of independence and adulthood had meant little in the face of a reality where the "paperwork" was done by others, and all that was really expected of her was a warm body. Even her college degree had been a subject of no interest, suggested by her elders and accepted by her because it "sounded hard" [It was Philosophy. Asuka will sometimes quote great philosophers, but misinterpret/remember their words or attribute them to the wrong person. Only once does she get it right, trying to prove to herself that she can retain knowledge].
Learning nothing all this time, her life atrophied, and she gradually lost interest in even the few hobbies she had, such as listening to music and doing simple paintings. Her routine was whittled down to sitting on the couch with a magazine, and eating lunch with her therapist turned friend, Gladys, twice a week. The beginning symbolizes the end of that road, as even her sense of time and place is lost in the white noise of distraction and mental stagnation, stuck so deeply in a rut of her own creation that she ceases to exist in the present. That she awoke from it could be compared to the way humans are meant to return from Third Impact. Langley begins to question Asuka about her recent habits, and whether or not she has accomplished anything in the past year. In a slew of rhetorical questions, he gets the truth from her that she has done nothing. Asuka plays the usual card, pretending to be too depressed and anxiety-ridden to focus on anything constructive, but he callously dismisses the excuse. She attempts to shout him away, but he holds his ground and reveals that he has obtained her extensive therapy records, which contradict her every word. 9 years ago, she arrived from the wasteland in a condition no worse than "eccentric," and has been lying to her father to scam him out of money for expensive treatment and aborted education options. Langley always kept a tight wallet, and she reasoned this as the best way to get back at him without a direct confrontation.To him, though, the money meant nothing compared to the constant feelings of inadequacy as a father, and the failure to kindle a relationship with the only family member he had left [Shortly after returning, he discovered that his second wife had come back years before him and died of an illness, and he had already lost his extended family in the Second Impact wars].
Despite being somewhere in the "right," Langley is forced to defend this breach of privacy, claiming that her therapist had an emotional breakdown and gave the records up after a simple phone introduction [He isn't lying]. When Asuka admits that she was lying, but refuses to provide a reason why, he announces her eviction. In his mind, if even this airing of the truth won't bring them to a common ground where they can resolve their issues, nothing will. Her heart will be closed forever, so he'd be happier cutting her dead weight off. To her, his intrusion on her secrets made her image of him even worse, and made her less interested in a straight conversation than ever before. Still, Asuka is surprised that he has gone as far as to kick her out, and tries to threaten him with the black eye the public would give him if she made a fuss about it. He knows how far her fame has sunk, however, and doesn't expect anyone to listen to her stories anymore. Unable to reveal much about her time as an Eva pilot, the information being classified [and heavily altered in parts], Asuka lost the media's interest within a year, as new developments drove the headlines. She was a relic of a war everyone wanted to forget, and a symbol of Nerv's failure to stop Third Impact, regardless of her official status as a hero to the end. Nine years later, she was practically a washed up ex-celebrity, who wasn't worth a moment of attention.
As her threats ring hollow, she realizes there is nothing to lose, and lets her father have it. The venomous fangs she held back for 20 years emerge and sink into Langley. He is secretly pleased to be getting somewhere, finally closing the stormy but silent gap between them, until she begins to insult his second wife and claim that she killed Kyoko. He accepts his own responsibility, but refuses to do the same for her for reasons unknown. Langley's second wife, who Asuka had always despised both for her apparent seduction of her father during Kyoko's illness, and her controlling perfectionist nature [a trait she slowly impressed upon Asuka], was very dear to him in a way Asuka believes Kyoko never was, generating feelings she writes off as anger for her mother's sake. In reality, Asuka was too young to really sense what her mother meant to Langley, and her assumption that he thought of her as a toy to be played with and discarded is based on incomplete observations. Because she never attempted to get to know her father in the present, to talk to him and see him as a human, his image in her mind is still one formed by an angry child: an incomprehensible asshole deserving of hatred. Langley begins to explain something about his history with Kyoko, surrounding her Contact Experiment, but stops when Asuka claims that she doesn't want to hear his lies.
[The truth being that Kyoko was almost entirely to blame for her own predicament, but Langley didn't fulfil his duty to be supportive as her husband. He let her call the shots in their relationship, not a questioning word, (as he later did with his second wife), and stood idle as those decisions took her to the grave.]
Asuka is overwhelmed by an unusual anger, typically a calm person since she came back from Japan [where the fury arose only when piloting Unit-02], and nearly attacks her father, stumbling off the couch and collapsing onto the table after a strong pang of hunger weakens her legs. Frightened, and sick of his daughter's presence, Langley reiterates the order to get out, giving her until the start of the new year. He leaves in a rush, his eyes locked on hers with an expression of confusion as he shuts the bedroom door. The reality of her cruel words and violent outburst hitting her, Asuka vomits what little remains in her stomach onto the rug, destroying the three-legged paper deer lying there.
Her father has arrived home, a rare occurrence for a man of his position. She feigns normalcy, attempting to hide the expensive and now shredded textbook in the seat cushions. The man, who often goes by his surname Langley, attempts small talk with his estranged yet dependant 24 year old daughter, and offers to make dinner, his reasoning being that it is Christmas Eve. Nine years had passed the two, under the same roof, without a shared meal, making her suspicious. Despite the apparently massive amount she had eaten that day, she is not sated, and a roaring hunger grows at the very mention of food. Asuka turns him down, however, wanting nothing to do with the hated father who somehow found success and public adoration after Third Impact, while she fell into obscurity despite fighting to protect the world [A fate she brought on herself]. As the face of the company [supposedly] responsible for the technology restoring humanity and the environment at breakneck speed, Langley has become a modern saint to those living under the umbrella of the reformed U.N., but a demon to Outliers, [scattered groups of people who come back naturally ("imagine yourself") and reject the return of the old world order] whose territory the world government is trying to reclaim for its "rightful owners."
Langley would normally leave after being shut out emotionally, afraid of crushing the delicate flower Asuka appeared to be despite nearly a decade of therapy and time to recover. This time he doesn't. Eager to please his daughter in the past, both to mend their relationship and her purportedly tortured soul, Langley had allowed Asuka to live work and education free since she arrived in Berlin [as an Outlier who wanted nothing to do with their cause]. She exploited this for revenge mostly, sucking up vast amounts of her father's money and consistently disappointing him with failed endeavors, but also out of a sense that a hero and the daughter of a genius scientist didn't need to put forth any additional effort to feel satisfied or potentially accomplish great things later in life. Deep down, though, she senses that she doesn't have the skills and common knowledge of her peers to be able to survive in the real world, having spent her entire life on rails. Boasts of independence and adulthood had meant little in the face of a reality where the "paperwork" was done by others, and all that was really expected of her was a warm body. Even her college degree had been a subject of no interest, suggested by her elders and accepted by her because it "sounded hard" [It was Philosophy. Asuka will sometimes quote great philosophers, but misinterpret/remember their words or attribute them to the wrong person. Only once does she get it right, trying to prove to herself that she can retain knowledge].
Learning nothing all this time, her life atrophied, and she gradually lost interest in even the few hobbies she had, such as listening to music and doing simple paintings. Her routine was whittled down to sitting on the couch with a magazine, and eating lunch with her therapist turned friend, Gladys, twice a week. The beginning symbolizes the end of that road, as even her sense of time and place is lost in the white noise of distraction and mental stagnation, stuck so deeply in a rut of her own creation that she ceases to exist in the present. That she awoke from it could be compared to the way humans are meant to return from Third Impact. Langley begins to question Asuka about her recent habits, and whether or not she has accomplished anything in the past year. In a slew of rhetorical questions, he gets the truth from her that she has done nothing. Asuka plays the usual card, pretending to be too depressed and anxiety-ridden to focus on anything constructive, but he callously dismisses the excuse. She attempts to shout him away, but he holds his ground and reveals that he has obtained her extensive therapy records, which contradict her every word. 9 years ago, she arrived from the wasteland in a condition no worse than "eccentric," and has been lying to her father to scam him out of money for expensive treatment and aborted education options. Langley always kept a tight wallet, and she reasoned this as the best way to get back at him without a direct confrontation.To him, though, the money meant nothing compared to the constant feelings of inadequacy as a father, and the failure to kindle a relationship with the only family member he had left [Shortly after returning, he discovered that his second wife had come back years before him and died of an illness, and he had already lost his extended family in the Second Impact wars].
Despite being somewhere in the "right," Langley is forced to defend this breach of privacy, claiming that her therapist had an emotional breakdown and gave the records up after a simple phone introduction [He isn't lying]. When Asuka admits that she was lying, but refuses to provide a reason why, he announces her eviction. In his mind, if even this airing of the truth won't bring them to a common ground where they can resolve their issues, nothing will. Her heart will be closed forever, so he'd be happier cutting her dead weight off. To her, his intrusion on her secrets made her image of him even worse, and made her less interested in a straight conversation than ever before. Still, Asuka is surprised that he has gone as far as to kick her out, and tries to threaten him with the black eye the public would give him if she made a fuss about it. He knows how far her fame has sunk, however, and doesn't expect anyone to listen to her stories anymore. Unable to reveal much about her time as an Eva pilot, the information being classified [and heavily altered in parts], Asuka lost the media's interest within a year, as new developments drove the headlines. She was a relic of a war everyone wanted to forget, and a symbol of Nerv's failure to stop Third Impact, regardless of her official status as a hero to the end. Nine years later, she was practically a washed up ex-celebrity, who wasn't worth a moment of attention.
As her threats ring hollow, she realizes there is nothing to lose, and lets her father have it. The venomous fangs she held back for 20 years emerge and sink into Langley. He is secretly pleased to be getting somewhere, finally closing the stormy but silent gap between them, until she begins to insult his second wife and claim that she killed Kyoko. He accepts his own responsibility, but refuses to do the same for her for reasons unknown. Langley's second wife, who Asuka had always despised both for her apparent seduction of her father during Kyoko's illness, and her controlling perfectionist nature [a trait she slowly impressed upon Asuka], was very dear to him in a way Asuka believes Kyoko never was, generating feelings she writes off as anger for her mother's sake. In reality, Asuka was too young to really sense what her mother meant to Langley, and her assumption that he thought of her as a toy to be played with and discarded is based on incomplete observations. Because she never attempted to get to know her father in the present, to talk to him and see him as a human, his image in her mind is still one formed by an angry child: an incomprehensible asshole deserving of hatred. Langley begins to explain something about his history with Kyoko, surrounding her Contact Experiment, but stops when Asuka claims that she doesn't want to hear his lies.
[The truth being that Kyoko was almost entirely to blame for her own predicament, but Langley didn't fulfil his duty to be supportive as her husband. He let her call the shots in their relationship, not a questioning word, (as he later did with his second wife), and stood idle as those decisions took her to the grave.]
Asuka is overwhelmed by an unusual anger, typically a calm person since she came back from Japan [where the fury arose only when piloting Unit-02], and nearly attacks her father, stumbling off the couch and collapsing onto the table after a strong pang of hunger weakens her legs. Frightened, and sick of his daughter's presence, Langley reiterates the order to get out, giving her until the start of the new year. He leaves in a rush, his eyes locked on hers with an expression of confusion as he shuts the bedroom door. The reality of her cruel words and violent outburst hitting her, Asuka vomits what little remains in her stomach onto the rug, destroying the three-legged paper deer lying there.
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Last edited by Clover on Sun Dec 27, 2015 12:12 am, edited 14 times in total.
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Re: New Century [Abandoned]
Clover wrote:Figured I might as well before TPP makes fanfiction illegal.
In other news: Doujinshi are saved.
http://headlines.yahoo.co.jp/hl?a=20151104-00000060-zdn_n-sci
>2次創作は非親告罪化の対象外に
Derivative works get outside the scope of the change to not require a formal complaint [by the copyright owner] for prosecution.
Reminder: Play nicely <<>> My vanity publishing:- NGE|blog|Photos|retro-blog|Fanfics &c.|MAL|𝕏|🐸|🦣
Avatar: art deco Asuka
Avatar: art deco Asuka
Re: New Century
I-2: The Guy in the Shades (summary)
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SPOILER: Show
Asuka and Shinji fumble through a particularly thick section of red mist in an empty city. It used to be part of Japan, but that region is so damaged by the Geofront's rise and Lilith's fall that it could hardly be considered the same country. They each have one end of a rope tied around their torso, to keep them together, and they wear thick winter clothes. It's snowing, though it's hard to tell from the mist, which is the product of wind storms blowing over a dry landscape stained by some form of LCL. A century after Third Impact, it no longer exists in the soil as a liquid, having crystallized into a kind of microscopic sand that can be hard to filter, and irritates lungs. This makes it appear more as a mist than a typical sandstorm. The wind occasionally kicks up, and they crouch down to maintain balance. Asuka wears heavy duty skiing goggles to protect her eyes. Shinji gets women's department store sunglasses. They each carry their own luggage: food and survival gear, as well as sentimental items. Asuka leads, moving at a pace her rope-mate silently finds tiring.
They reach a large and dilapidated bridge, crossing a now a dried up coastline. There is evidence of a town- lost to Second Impact -obscured in the thicker mist below the bridge. Asuka doesn't want to go around or down, which she communicates through hand signals, having barely traversed a similar seabed before, where there were few markers. Shinji wants to go around, but that would take too much time in her eyes; she points to barely visible moon, reflecting in her broken wristwatch, whose bisecting bloodstain seems to move clockwise with the hours. 4 or 10, it reads, but safety is priority to him. The wind slows, and the sandstorm settles as they argue with gestures. When part of the bridge supports collapse in front of them, Shinji thinks he has won the argument, and turns to go. Instead of following, Asuka realizes their chance to move, and takes off in a run down the bridge, seemingly unafraid or almost inviting death. Shinji is dragged along and forced to keep up with the athlete. They manage most of the length before Shinji's legs give out from exhaustion, and he falls to his knees. Asuka is caught by his fall on the rope and topples onto her back. The mist settles enough for her to see the stars, including the ring and stained moon above. 8 or 2; she had misread it earlier. Shinji gets up and comes over, offering a hand. She neither accepts nor rejects it, standing up alone. In the fall, Shinji's side of the rope came unknotted, so Asuka deliberately walks to his back and reties it, almost too tight. They march the rest of the bridge, as far apart as the rope allows.
As the reflection in the clock strikes 11, they stop for the night in someone's old house. It hasn't been entered in over a century, the air stagnant, so they open a window and get a fire lit. Even away from the dust outside, they leave their glasses on, allowing them to glance at each other without the dreaded eye contact. They also still rely on hand gestures, even though the air is clear of noise. They're also still tied together. Shinji pulls a deck of cards out of his pack and shakes it, but Asuka waves her hand. They eat their meal of canned food over a makeshift fire, careful to check each other's cans for the tell-tale curved lid that would mean certain death if its contents were ingested. The sealing process, as well as the natural refrigeration of Japan's new environment, kept some food edible for 100 years. That Third Impact wiped out all bacteria in the region also helped. Shinji produces a small guitar-like instrument, found in some ruin, and begins plucking a tune they both know. He motions for Asuka to do something, but she is motionless. Defeated, Shinji lies down to sleep, but Asuka just stares at the fire, gripping her knees, her mouth frozen in a frown like a marble statue. She's like that in the morning. Every morning is like that.
The next day, they are moving through a city suburb, looking for supplies. The red mist has subsided for now, and the sun is beating down on the frigid landscape as if the sky were just a painting. They move house to house, replenishing canned food and taking anything that catches their eyes. It snowed heavily the night before, so they take the opportunity to fill several bottles full; it's contaminated with (apparently) harmless LCL and sediment, but also their best source of water. Many of the structures are unstable from earthquakes and time, so they have to be careful when choosing what buildings to go into. Shinji physically vetoes a particularly dangerous looking convenience store, planting his feet and holding Asuka back with the rope. He doesn't want a repeat of the bridge. [Originally used to keep them together in the dust storms, Asuka has it tied on clear days too now. "Never know when it might kick up again" was the excuse.] She violently gestures with her arms to the trove of goods visible through the broken windows, but he won't give in this time.
They get in a tug of war match with the rope, which Asuka seems unwilling to untie to have her way. Shinji vocalizes that it's too dangerous, his first words in a long time, and gives a strong pull. Asuka falls onto her stomach, a full backpack of scavenged cans landing on top of her with a rattle. As Shinji moves to help, she rises faster than what should be possible and grabs him by the jacket. He falls back and she straddles his chest, raising her fist as if to bring it down on his glasses, but his arms stay limp at his sides. Before she can hit him, however, an unfamiliar voice shouts for them to stop.
A single man, dressed in equally protective clothing, including a gas mask, and wielding an assault rifle has appeared seemingly from nowhere behind Asuka. She raises her arms behind her head, and they are quickly surrounded by an entire squad, who soundlessly emerge from nearby buildings. [This is "Gawain," who appears in both flashbacks and the present as a prominent Outlier.]
They reach a large and dilapidated bridge, crossing a now a dried up coastline. There is evidence of a town- lost to Second Impact -obscured in the thicker mist below the bridge. Asuka doesn't want to go around or down, which she communicates through hand signals, having barely traversed a similar seabed before, where there were few markers. Shinji wants to go around, but that would take too much time in her eyes; she points to barely visible moon, reflecting in her broken wristwatch, whose bisecting bloodstain seems to move clockwise with the hours. 4 or 10, it reads, but safety is priority to him. The wind slows, and the sandstorm settles as they argue with gestures. When part of the bridge supports collapse in front of them, Shinji thinks he has won the argument, and turns to go. Instead of following, Asuka realizes their chance to move, and takes off in a run down the bridge, seemingly unafraid or almost inviting death. Shinji is dragged along and forced to keep up with the athlete. They manage most of the length before Shinji's legs give out from exhaustion, and he falls to his knees. Asuka is caught by his fall on the rope and topples onto her back. The mist settles enough for her to see the stars, including the ring and stained moon above. 8 or 2; she had misread it earlier. Shinji gets up and comes over, offering a hand. She neither accepts nor rejects it, standing up alone. In the fall, Shinji's side of the rope came unknotted, so Asuka deliberately walks to his back and reties it, almost too tight. They march the rest of the bridge, as far apart as the rope allows.
As the reflection in the clock strikes 11, they stop for the night in someone's old house. It hasn't been entered in over a century, the air stagnant, so they open a window and get a fire lit. Even away from the dust outside, they leave their glasses on, allowing them to glance at each other without the dreaded eye contact. They also still rely on hand gestures, even though the air is clear of noise. They're also still tied together. Shinji pulls a deck of cards out of his pack and shakes it, but Asuka waves her hand. They eat their meal of canned food over a makeshift fire, careful to check each other's cans for the tell-tale curved lid that would mean certain death if its contents were ingested. The sealing process, as well as the natural refrigeration of Japan's new environment, kept some food edible for 100 years. That Third Impact wiped out all bacteria in the region also helped. Shinji produces a small guitar-like instrument, found in some ruin, and begins plucking a tune they both know. He motions for Asuka to do something, but she is motionless. Defeated, Shinji lies down to sleep, but Asuka just stares at the fire, gripping her knees, her mouth frozen in a frown like a marble statue. She's like that in the morning. Every morning is like that.
The next day, they are moving through a city suburb, looking for supplies. The red mist has subsided for now, and the sun is beating down on the frigid landscape as if the sky were just a painting. They move house to house, replenishing canned food and taking anything that catches their eyes. It snowed heavily the night before, so they take the opportunity to fill several bottles full; it's contaminated with (apparently) harmless LCL and sediment, but also their best source of water. Many of the structures are unstable from earthquakes and time, so they have to be careful when choosing what buildings to go into. Shinji physically vetoes a particularly dangerous looking convenience store, planting his feet and holding Asuka back with the rope. He doesn't want a repeat of the bridge. [Originally used to keep them together in the dust storms, Asuka has it tied on clear days too now. "Never know when it might kick up again" was the excuse.] She violently gestures with her arms to the trove of goods visible through the broken windows, but he won't give in this time.
They get in a tug of war match with the rope, which Asuka seems unwilling to untie to have her way. Shinji vocalizes that it's too dangerous, his first words in a long time, and gives a strong pull. Asuka falls onto her stomach, a full backpack of scavenged cans landing on top of her with a rattle. As Shinji moves to help, she rises faster than what should be possible and grabs him by the jacket. He falls back and she straddles his chest, raising her fist as if to bring it down on his glasses, but his arms stay limp at his sides. Before she can hit him, however, an unfamiliar voice shouts for them to stop.
A single man, dressed in equally protective clothing, including a gas mask, and wielding an assault rifle has appeared seemingly from nowhere behind Asuka. She raises her arms behind her head, and they are quickly surrounded by an entire squad, who soundlessly emerge from nearby buildings. [This is "Gawain," who appears in both flashbacks and the present as a prominent Outlier.]
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Last edited by Clover on Sun Dec 27, 2015 12:13 am, edited 3 times in total.
Re: New Century
I-3: Cardboard Girl (summary)
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SPOILER: Show
After the bitter fight with her father, and the subsequent eviction, Asuka is desperate to both find a job to support herself, and confront her friend and therapist Gladys, who she perceives as having sold her out. Asuka confronts Gladys at her office, only to discover her drowning her guilt and fear of retribution in alcohol, locking the door and hiding from her biggest patient. Asuka discusses the situation (after finding an alternate way in), and they quickly make up. Gladys Pennant is a licensed psychiatrist in her early 30s, an Outlier of some 27 years who was picked up by a squad of U.N. soldiers as a child and brought to restored Europe [She was found wearing a cardboard box with holes, a memento she still owns]. As a result, Asuka is technically older than her, having been 14 instead of 5 during Third Impact, but Gladys has lived longer by returning earlier, and has spent her entire life in the post apocalypse world. To a shut in like Asuka, this makes her a big sister of sorts, as she knows more about the way the reviving world works. [Child Outliers are rare, possibly due to the mental effort required to return naturally. Examples that survived the wasteland are even more singular, and state authorities frequently cite the unlucky ones when defending their forced-restoration policies.]
Gladys had been involved in Asuka's scheme, learning to accept larger than expected payments for sessions of absolutely no substance. Asuka had arrived on her doorstep right after she finished school and her certification, and she badly needed the money to establish herself. With few patients coming her way, a celebrity who overpaid was the perfect opportunity, even if she mocked Gladys's attempts to use her education, with cheap small talk and two word responses. Eventually she saw the payments as her standard rate, as Asuka kept coming back for sessions regardless of what Dr. Pennant recommended. To her, some people just needed an ear to talk to, and if they were willing to pay, she'd listen to anything for an hour and a half. However, in the many years this went on, Asuka's eccentricities grew on her, and she came to see her as a friend. How legitimate that friendship is still hovers above her though, for while Asuka had little to say in response to "prying questions," she seemed plenty happy to do nothing but talk about herself. As her therapist, it had been normal for Gladys to offer little about herself and focus on the patient, but as their relationship evolved, the fundamental dynamic of their conversations stayed the same. All that really changed was what Asuka was willing to talk about, and her tone of voice. Asuka hardly knew her only friend.
Gladys claims that she gave up the decade-spanning records because she felt someone had been following her recently, and the powerful man's phone call had snapped a self-preservation instinct into action; she feared for her life. If her secrets were bringing the reaper closer, she would let them all go [Why she would physically hand over an entire file of private information instead of just telling Langley the truth is more complicated]. The inequalities in their relationship contributed to her breakdown, however, as she was willing to sacrifice someone she called friend to save herself. Guilt-ridden over having been so selfish and emotional, she has broken out the New Years wine early, trying to forget someone so pathetic as herself exists. She's at the end of the bottle when Asuka arrives, face planted on her desk next to a collection of tiny figurines Asuka made her (before she fell into laziness). They resemble each Angel she fought, minus one, plus Ramiel, so Gladys would understand what she had described in her stories. [Asuka claims to have been involved in Operation Yashima, and keeps a solid count of how many Angels she helped defeat. She'll ignore anyone that questions her claim, as if they said nothing.]
"12 Angels. There were more, but the other pilot got to them before I could. Easy ones, you know, the enemy's opening salvo, before I got to Japan. Yeah, I killed them all otherwise, with some backup of course. Unit-02 was the only production model at the time, the other was a prototype they had to send out because they attacked sooner than we expected, so I was the only one who stood a real chance in battle. And did I ever. The other kid, I guess he was lucky in retrospect, especially considering some of the later ones. He could keep up some cover fire, though, let me tell you. Always on the sidelines, the perfect distraction just when I needed it. I've never seen someone reload that fast... What a guy. Hope he's alive someday."
Gladys's reputation is on the line, and she's afraid Langley will sue. Asuka points out that the only logical person who could bring a lawsuit would be herself. Gladys offers to let Asuka move in with her, considering the latter's money is what allowed her to rent such a nice apartment and office space, but Asuka vows to get a job and her own home, rather than drag her friend down any further. It makes her sick to see the usually strong and constructed woman she relies on, if only for conversation, to fall so far.
Surprised and happy to see Asuka finally taking charge of her life, Gladys's mood spins like a rotating head of expressions and she starts throwing out suggestions at lightning speed, writing them on her whiteboard wall, half of which is covered in a list of numbers and letters. The final letter switches between D and R randomly, but stops on D for the last 20 entries. Asuka doesn't ask. [Hexadecimal representations of dates, along with D or R]
One idea catches Asuka's interest: a major event currently being held downtown is also hosting recruiters for companies involved, including large sponsoring organizations. That event is none other than the World's Fair, held for the first time since before Second Impact. Unable to see herself working the cash register, Asuka insists on finding a "real job" she can live off of forever. Gladys asks her if she wants to use it to pay for more education. She just laughs.
Gladys had been involved in Asuka's scheme, learning to accept larger than expected payments for sessions of absolutely no substance. Asuka had arrived on her doorstep right after she finished school and her certification, and she badly needed the money to establish herself. With few patients coming her way, a celebrity who overpaid was the perfect opportunity, even if she mocked Gladys's attempts to use her education, with cheap small talk and two word responses. Eventually she saw the payments as her standard rate, as Asuka kept coming back for sessions regardless of what Dr. Pennant recommended. To her, some people just needed an ear to talk to, and if they were willing to pay, she'd listen to anything for an hour and a half. However, in the many years this went on, Asuka's eccentricities grew on her, and she came to see her as a friend. How legitimate that friendship is still hovers above her though, for while Asuka had little to say in response to "prying questions," she seemed plenty happy to do nothing but talk about herself. As her therapist, it had been normal for Gladys to offer little about herself and focus on the patient, but as their relationship evolved, the fundamental dynamic of their conversations stayed the same. All that really changed was what Asuka was willing to talk about, and her tone of voice. Asuka hardly knew her only friend.
Gladys claims that she gave up the decade-spanning records because she felt someone had been following her recently, and the powerful man's phone call had snapped a self-preservation instinct into action; she feared for her life. If her secrets were bringing the reaper closer, she would let them all go [Why she would physically hand over an entire file of private information instead of just telling Langley the truth is more complicated]. The inequalities in their relationship contributed to her breakdown, however, as she was willing to sacrifice someone she called friend to save herself. Guilt-ridden over having been so selfish and emotional, she has broken out the New Years wine early, trying to forget someone so pathetic as herself exists. She's at the end of the bottle when Asuka arrives, face planted on her desk next to a collection of tiny figurines Asuka made her (before she fell into laziness). They resemble each Angel she fought, minus one, plus Ramiel, so Gladys would understand what she had described in her stories. [Asuka claims to have been involved in Operation Yashima, and keeps a solid count of how many Angels she helped defeat. She'll ignore anyone that questions her claim, as if they said nothing.]
"12 Angels. There were more, but the other pilot got to them before I could. Easy ones, you know, the enemy's opening salvo, before I got to Japan. Yeah, I killed them all otherwise, with some backup of course. Unit-02 was the only production model at the time, the other was a prototype they had to send out because they attacked sooner than we expected, so I was the only one who stood a real chance in battle. And did I ever. The other kid, I guess he was lucky in retrospect, especially considering some of the later ones. He could keep up some cover fire, though, let me tell you. Always on the sidelines, the perfect distraction just when I needed it. I've never seen someone reload that fast... What a guy. Hope he's alive someday."
Gladys's reputation is on the line, and she's afraid Langley will sue. Asuka points out that the only logical person who could bring a lawsuit would be herself. Gladys offers to let Asuka move in with her, considering the latter's money is what allowed her to rent such a nice apartment and office space, but Asuka vows to get a job and her own home, rather than drag her friend down any further. It makes her sick to see the usually strong and constructed woman she relies on, if only for conversation, to fall so far.
Surprised and happy to see Asuka finally taking charge of her life, Gladys's mood spins like a rotating head of expressions and she starts throwing out suggestions at lightning speed, writing them on her whiteboard wall, half of which is covered in a list of numbers and letters. The final letter switches between D and R randomly, but stops on D for the last 20 entries. Asuka doesn't ask. [Hexadecimal representations of dates, along with D or R]
One idea catches Asuka's interest: a major event currently being held downtown is also hosting recruiters for companies involved, including large sponsoring organizations. That event is none other than the World's Fair, held for the first time since before Second Impact. Unable to see herself working the cash register, Asuka insists on finding a "real job" she can live off of forever. Gladys asks her if she wants to use it to pay for more education. She just laughs.
------
SPOILER: Show
"Gladys!"
Asuka rapped on the door reading Pennant M.D.
"Gladys! Come on, I know you don't go home!"
No response was heard. She made a fist and pounded.
"Can you at least say you're not there?"
"Im noddhear." a moan said, muffled by distance and something else.
"I don't want to talk like this, can I come in? Emergency session?"
A long silence. Asuka's attention was snagged on the hallway's ambient music, a grating Christmas song, and she missed her doctor's belated response.
"...No," the voice said.
Asuka spoke again, her own sound drowning out the distraction.
"Yes, no? I'll... pay the normal rate. My money, not his."
"S'all his money. I don wanit anymore. I'll- I'll give it back, promise... Every mark in this cityiz his, an-"
The office's occupant trailed off on a rant, but Asuka couldn't focus on it over the increasingly loud vocalist above, and she again found herself glued to the speakers. She jiggled the door handle, frustration beginning to boil. How dare this woman lock her out of an office rented with customers' money, especially when she was one of the only patients? Suddenly, however, the handle gave way with a stomach-turning clunk, and the door silently drifted open. Asuka lifted her hand apprehensively from the handle, watching it drop south like the head on a snapped neck. She shrugged internally.
"German engineering."
Asuka leaned into the dark office.
"Um... Gladys? Sorry, I think your door broke, so I'm coming in, okay?"
Asuka rapped on the door reading Pennant M.D.
"Gladys! Come on, I know you don't go home!"
No response was heard. She made a fist and pounded.
"Can you at least say you're not there?"
"Im noddhear." a moan said, muffled by distance and something else.
"I don't want to talk like this, can I come in? Emergency session?"
A long silence. Asuka's attention was snagged on the hallway's ambient music, a grating Christmas song, and she missed her doctor's belated response.
"...No," the voice said.
Asuka spoke again, her own sound drowning out the distraction.
"Yes, no? I'll... pay the normal rate. My money, not his."
"S'all his money. I don wanit anymore. I'll- I'll give it back, promise... Every mark in this cityiz his, an-"
The office's occupant trailed off on a rant, but Asuka couldn't focus on it over the increasingly loud vocalist above, and she again found herself glued to the speakers. She jiggled the door handle, frustration beginning to boil. How dare this woman lock her out of an office rented with customers' money, especially when she was one of the only patients? Suddenly, however, the handle gave way with a stomach-turning clunk, and the door silently drifted open. Asuka lifted her hand apprehensively from the handle, watching it drop south like the head on a snapped neck. She shrugged internally.
"German engineering."
Asuka leaned into the dark office.
"Um... Gladys? Sorry, I think your door broke, so I'm coming in, okay?"
Last edited by Clover on Sun Dec 27, 2015 12:13 am, edited 2 times in total.
Re: New Century
I-1: Breakfast on a Ruined Rug (Side A draft)
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Asuka opened her eyes. Not the right description for her action, given they were already open, but it conveys the context. Not awake, but not asleep, Asuka sat cross-legged on the sofa, staring at the buzzing mirage of colors on TV. The sound screamed a familiar tune, something about Christmas, so it must have been around December. How strange that she had been able to sit there for so long without noticing the volume. In fact, as she discovered with the remote, it was set to full. Her neighbors weren't usually home at this hour, a Thursday morning, though it being Christmas Eve they may have been. Normal people usually had that off, so it was a wonder indeed no one had stormed to her door with a noise complaint.
Thursday morning? Asuka's head drifted to her bedside alarm; 17:03 it read, 5 for the Americans, like her stuck-in-his-ways father. Oh, how odd, the clock must be glitched. German engineering. She directed herself to the wall hands, also 5 and 3. Now this was becoming a worry. Here it was, nearly time for dinner, and there she sat, watching holiday films in such a daze that time itself had fallen out the window and landed on its landlord's car. Someone would be paying for repairs, and in this case it was her.
The girl watching clocks, not films, would have to detail just what happened in between then and now, then being last night, or to most people this morning, 2 am her customary bedtime. Self-imposed, of course; no one would tell a 26 year old to turn in, lest they be grounded, even without their own home. No, she was 25. She could do as she pleased, as long she pleased, as long as she kept the volume down, which she corrected just now. Asuka's ears rang like telephones as the commercial's opening pitch faded away, and her ability to think complexly returned.
The room was a disaster, at least from the perspective of a stranger, which she became at this moment. Crumpled paper scattered the floor, torn from a massively expensive book now huddling defiled on her drinks table; a textbook from an aborted degree, since forgotten in the closet, which now hung open. Someone as neat as Asuka Soryu would never leave their drawers open, let alone an entire side room, but someone else had. Burglary? Perhaps the source of her daze had been drugging with some foreign gas, developed in the ruins of New York City. She crept out of her bedroom, and checked the apartment's locks and alarms. All were set, showing no tampering. Asuka thought herself an expert at such things, so a quick glance brought satisfaction. Everything had been her doing, conscious or not.
Was she sleepwalking? Back in her room, Asuka noted her clothes, the traditional pyjamas she wore most nights, and days that didn't call for sunlight. Her brown hair was filthy and facing every direction it shouldn't; Asuka combed it fruitlessly with her long nails, peeking in the bathroom mirror. Violet circles lined her once blue eyes: they had long since turned grey. All signs, namely the separate aspects of her appearance, pointed to sleepwalking, a first for this girl. Perhaps, since no one remembers doing it, this had been the fifty first time, but it was the only incident that ended so dramatically. How had she produced the stack of empty cereal bowls, which was neatly placed on her couch arm? The implication, sleep eating, made her shudder and she ran a hand down her stomach. Still flat. Rather concave, actually. Perhaps 7 bowls wasn't enough. A growl below affirmed.
As she moved to leave for the kitchen, guilt giving way to base excitement at the prospect of consequence free eating, she again became aware of the littered paper. To confused eyes their placement random, the lumps in fact surrounded the couch alone, and lumps they were not. Asuka's eyes darted from page to page, worriedly reading each form and establishing the theme. They were paper animals. Quick to step over them before, Asuka was now blockaded and slowly pushed back to the safety of the couch. They challenged her with existence, having come not just from sleeping, but artistically untalented hands. Fingers that couldn't sew a button on a needle, that couldn't make a paper airplane for a child, even a petulant youth that wouldn't quiet until it had one. Skill with a brush was dropped years ago, and had been “developing” at best; blue landscapes now in a landfill. Nowhere in her rolodex were instructions for an Introductory C++ menagerie.
Trapped on the red sofa, Asuka took inventory. A deer with three legs, a fish with no tail, a crow with one wing. 20 or so similar creatures roamed the fancy rug beneath her, taking in its aesthetic improvements to the room. It brought the hardwood and furniture together in a way few would appreciate, but Asuka could tell they liked it, as not one of them left its borders. Each was unfinished in some way, be it a missing limb or an unusually half-assed feature. A whale clearly intended to be a narwhal was missing its horn, the buck had no antlers, and one was so incomplete that Asuka could hardly make out its intended species. Probably a cricket or a spider; even asleep she couldn't overcome her fear of insects and tossed it. Why had she started, then? Such a question required too much patience to answer, so she left her thoughts on the floor with the mangled beast.
She looked around in desperation, still unwilling to break the enemy line for the door, looking for a forgotten snack that could calm her stomach enough to think. Think about this problem, sleepwalking and sleep eating, and now the absurdity of sleep paper-craft, of its causes and potential remedies. But find a thing to eat on her right she did not, as a single creature had made its climb up to her leg rest on the far end, and was staring right at her. This one was complete. Asuka struggled to articulate the thought through the windstorm that was her awareness, sounds overtaking her mind with regularity.
“This one isn't missing anything,” she said.
Her ears registered the sound, and processed it as a statement of fact; only now she was able to think clearly, her voice having risen above the background noise. She cautiously picked the little beast up with her fingertips, afraid of angering it, and perhaps drawing the ire of the entire crowd below. If this was their representative, the only one capable of climbing the red mountain, it was her duty as its queen to listen to their concerns. Did they all want to be finished? Good luck, maybe next sleepwalk.
“Sorry, I can't help you. I really don't know where any of you came from, so I'm not the person to ask.”
The creature only stared, unconvinced. Something in Asuka's gut dropped. Was she really doing this, talking to shape-shifted chunks of programming and prose? But was there another option? The crowd seemed to get closer, and their champion bore into her skull with its eyes, demanding a fair deal. Perhaps she had to try, regardless of ability. There was plenty of raw material left, and the unconscious artisan's supplies on the table before her. No time like the present to settle an existential dispute. Asuka reached to set her tormentor down and begin slaving at arms, legs and antlers, when there was a knock at the door. Her bedroom door. Father was home.
“Yeah?”
“Are you decent this time?”
Asuka surveyed the room. She may be dressed, but this art exhibit wasn't something she wanted to explain. Disregarding her commitment, she rose and kicked the animals under the couch, trying not to crush each one.
“Hold on,” she said.
“Really wouldn't need to do this if you dressed like a normal person. We wear pants inside, you know, even during the day.”
“Uh huh... pants, shorts, too hot for them,” she said, muttering her reasoning.
Even on Christmas Eve, it was the height of summer outside, and heat found its way through her thick blue curtains. Langley wouldn't permit a single degree of change on the thermostat. The way utilities were billed, or something like that. The TV had distracted her from his explanation, so all that mattered was his persistence. Don't touch that dial, he said, so she didn't. Couldn't, no matter the reason; he'd know. It didn't matter now; she was already dressed, the phantom hand deciding she wanted as cozy an outfit as possible for her un-day. Flannel? Were they fu-
“Don't get picky, I only have the local news crew waiting outside,” he said.
At least that quip was obviously sarcastic. They weren't always, to her confusion and annoyance. But he didn't matter, this outfit did: why did she even own clothes this fuzzy? It was so hot that her bed had no sheets year-round, that she took cold showers twice a day to relieve the sweat, that
she only left the house after dark to avoid the sun. This way it had always been, in Germany and Japan: an eternal summer fueled by the scarlet flames of Hell, that sapped your ability to concentrate, to think, though the pulsing din of humid air. Winter and Autumn were easier seasons on the mind, she imagined. No time to change, she released the lock and retreated to the couch in a gallop. Her father opened the door cautiously, then let it swing wide as he leaned over the threshold.
“Hey, we can talk a little closer than tha- Whuha! What are you wearing? Heading to Africa for a penguin hunt? Boots even...”
“I um,” she sniffled, “I just had a cold, got the chills.”
Some guy, he always wore a full suit, probably the only man to wear the coat outside an air conditioned building. If he had time to wear casual clothes, this would be his style.
“Got a cold? From who? Fluffy there?,” he said, nodding to the tiny animal facing him on the table. The animal kingdom's representative, forgotten next to the scissors where she'd placed him, was the only creature left in view. Langley stepped inside to get a closer look.
“That's pretty cute, did you make it? I didn't know you did those. You know, I had a girl that used to make paper cranes, back in hi-,” he said.
“Sometimes,” Asuka said, grabbing 'Fluffy' and mashing him into her pocket. Langley stopped half-step.
“Oh... Well, he looked good. Maybe not anymore, but that's ok.” He noticed the mutilated book with concern. “There's more where he came from, evidently.”
------
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Asuka opened her eyes. Not the right description for her action, given they were already open, but it conveys the context. Not awake, but not asleep, Asuka sat cross-legged on the sofa, staring at the buzzing mirage of colors on TV. The sound screamed a familiar tune, something about Christmas, so it must have been around December. How strange that she had been able to sit there for so long without noticing the volume. In fact, as she discovered with the remote, it was set to full. Her neighbors weren't usually home at this hour, a Thursday morning, though it being Christmas Eve they may have been. Normal people usually had that off, so it was a wonder indeed no one had stormed to her door with a noise complaint.
Thursday morning? Asuka's head drifted to her bedside alarm; 17:03 it read, 5 for the Americans, like her stuck-in-his-ways father. Oh, how odd, the clock must be glitched. German engineering. She directed herself to the wall hands, also 5 and 3. Now this was becoming a worry. Here it was, nearly time for dinner, and there she sat, watching holiday films in such a daze that time itself had fallen out the window and landed on its landlord's car. Someone would be paying for repairs, and in this case it was her.
The girl watching clocks, not films, would have to detail just what happened in between then and now, then being last night, or to most people this morning, 2 am her customary bedtime. Self-imposed, of course; no one would tell a 26 year old to turn in, lest they be grounded, even without their own home. No, she was 25. She could do as she pleased, as long she pleased, as long as she kept the volume down, which she corrected just now. Asuka's ears rang like telephones as the commercial's opening pitch faded away, and her ability to think complexly returned.
The room was a disaster, at least from the perspective of a stranger, which she became at this moment. Crumpled paper scattered the floor, torn from a massively expensive book now huddling defiled on her drinks table; a textbook from an aborted degree, since forgotten in the closet, which now hung open. Someone as neat as Asuka Soryu would never leave their drawers open, let alone an entire side room, but someone else had. Burglary? Perhaps the source of her daze had been drugging with some foreign gas, developed in the ruins of New York City. She crept out of her bedroom, and checked the apartment's locks and alarms. All were set, showing no tampering. Asuka thought herself an expert at such things, so a quick glance brought satisfaction. Everything had been her doing, conscious or not.
Was she sleepwalking? Back in her room, Asuka noted her clothes, the traditional pyjamas she wore most nights, and days that didn't call for sunlight. Her brown hair was filthy and facing every direction it shouldn't; Asuka combed it fruitlessly with her long nails, peeking in the bathroom mirror. Violet circles lined her once blue eyes: they had long since turned grey. All signs, namely the separate aspects of her appearance, pointed to sleepwalking, a first for this girl. Perhaps, since no one remembers doing it, this had been the fifty first time, but it was the only incident that ended so dramatically. How had she produced the stack of empty cereal bowls, which was neatly placed on her couch arm? The implication, sleep eating, made her shudder and she ran a hand down her stomach. Still flat. Rather concave, actually. Perhaps 7 bowls wasn't enough. A growl below affirmed.
As she moved to leave for the kitchen, guilt giving way to base excitement at the prospect of consequence free eating, she again became aware of the littered paper. To confused eyes their placement random, the lumps in fact surrounded the couch alone, and lumps they were not. Asuka's eyes darted from page to page, worriedly reading each form and establishing the theme. They were paper animals. Quick to step over them before, Asuka was now blockaded and slowly pushed back to the safety of the couch. They challenged her with existence, having come not just from sleeping, but artistically untalented hands. Fingers that couldn't sew a button on a needle, that couldn't make a paper airplane for a child, even a petulant youth that wouldn't quiet until it had one. Skill with a brush was dropped years ago, and had been “developing” at best; blue landscapes now in a landfill. Nowhere in her rolodex were instructions for an Introductory C++ menagerie.
Trapped on the red sofa, Asuka took inventory. A deer with three legs, a fish with no tail, a crow with one wing. 20 or so similar creatures roamed the fancy rug beneath her, taking in its aesthetic improvements to the room. It brought the hardwood and furniture together in a way few would appreciate, but Asuka could tell they liked it, as not one of them left its borders. Each was unfinished in some way, be it a missing limb or an unusually half-assed feature. A whale clearly intended to be a narwhal was missing its horn, the buck had no antlers, and one was so incomplete that Asuka could hardly make out its intended species. Probably a cricket or a spider; even asleep she couldn't overcome her fear of insects and tossed it. Why had she started, then? Such a question required too much patience to answer, so she left her thoughts on the floor with the mangled beast.
She looked around in desperation, still unwilling to break the enemy line for the door, looking for a forgotten snack that could calm her stomach enough to think. Think about this problem, sleepwalking and sleep eating, and now the absurdity of sleep paper-craft, of its causes and potential remedies. But find a thing to eat on her right she did not, as a single creature had made its climb up to her leg rest on the far end, and was staring right at her. This one was complete. Asuka struggled to articulate the thought through the windstorm that was her awareness, sounds overtaking her mind with regularity.
“This one isn't missing anything,” she said.
Her ears registered the sound, and processed it as a statement of fact; only now she was able to think clearly, her voice having risen above the background noise. She cautiously picked the little beast up with her fingertips, afraid of angering it, and perhaps drawing the ire of the entire crowd below. If this was their representative, the only one capable of climbing the red mountain, it was her duty as its queen to listen to their concerns. Did they all want to be finished? Good luck, maybe next sleepwalk.
“Sorry, I can't help you. I really don't know where any of you came from, so I'm not the person to ask.”
The creature only stared, unconvinced. Something in Asuka's gut dropped. Was she really doing this, talking to shape-shifted chunks of programming and prose? But was there another option? The crowd seemed to get closer, and their champion bore into her skull with its eyes, demanding a fair deal. Perhaps she had to try, regardless of ability. There was plenty of raw material left, and the unconscious artisan's supplies on the table before her. No time like the present to settle an existential dispute. Asuka reached to set her tormentor down and begin slaving at arms, legs and antlers, when there was a knock at the door. Her bedroom door. Father was home.
“Yeah?”
“Are you decent this time?”
Asuka surveyed the room. She may be dressed, but this art exhibit wasn't something she wanted to explain. Disregarding her commitment, she rose and kicked the animals under the couch, trying not to crush each one.
“Hold on,” she said.
“Really wouldn't need to do this if you dressed like a normal person. We wear pants inside, you know, even during the day.”
“Uh huh... pants, shorts, too hot for them,” she said, muttering her reasoning.
Even on Christmas Eve, it was the height of summer outside, and heat found its way through her thick blue curtains. Langley wouldn't permit a single degree of change on the thermostat. The way utilities were billed, or something like that. The TV had distracted her from his explanation, so all that mattered was his persistence. Don't touch that dial, he said, so she didn't. Couldn't, no matter the reason; he'd know. It didn't matter now; she was already dressed, the phantom hand deciding she wanted as cozy an outfit as possible for her un-day. Flannel? Were they fu-
“Don't get picky, I only have the local news crew waiting outside,” he said.
At least that quip was obviously sarcastic. They weren't always, to her confusion and annoyance. But he didn't matter, this outfit did: why did she even own clothes this fuzzy? It was so hot that her bed had no sheets year-round, that she took cold showers twice a day to relieve the sweat, that
she only left the house after dark to avoid the sun. This way it had always been, in Germany and Japan: an eternal summer fueled by the scarlet flames of Hell, that sapped your ability to concentrate, to think, though the pulsing din of humid air. Winter and Autumn were easier seasons on the mind, she imagined. No time to change, she released the lock and retreated to the couch in a gallop. Her father opened the door cautiously, then let it swing wide as he leaned over the threshold.
“Hey, we can talk a little closer than tha- Whuha! What are you wearing? Heading to Africa for a penguin hunt? Boots even...”
“I um,” she sniffled, “I just had a cold, got the chills.”
Some guy, he always wore a full suit, probably the only man to wear the coat outside an air conditioned building. If he had time to wear casual clothes, this would be his style.
“Got a cold? From who? Fluffy there?,” he said, nodding to the tiny animal facing him on the table. The animal kingdom's representative, forgotten next to the scissors where she'd placed him, was the only creature left in view. Langley stepped inside to get a closer look.
“That's pretty cute, did you make it? I didn't know you did those. You know, I had a girl that used to make paper cranes, back in hi-,” he said.
“Sometimes,” Asuka said, grabbing 'Fluffy' and mashing him into her pocket. Langley stopped half-step.
“Oh... Well, he looked good. Maybe not anymore, but that's ok.” He noticed the mutilated book with concern. “There's more where he came from, evidently.”
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