[unit-01 sustains damage after an angel attack, and when gendo goes to retrieve funds for its repairs, the UN announces they wish to go a different direction in regards to aesthetics...]
It often felt as if being told to deliver a report to the Commander was like being told to go and receive forty lashings. The expression on the aging man's face was reason enough to believe so, people would joke on their off-time. NERV wasn't too big a place, with the workers there numbered in the hundreds. At the end of the day, everyone at least knew everyone else's name, which helped in brief conversations that spared the place some of the stereotypical monotone that you would otherwise observe in sitcoms or cheap comic skits.
The package of papers, stamped classified, was set before him and he snatched it up with a swiftness that betrayed-though barely-his diminishing patience. Jimmy, the unfortunate delivery guy this time around, had taken his leave almost immediately, which left Vice Commander Fuyutsuki open to Ikari's potential wrath. This ended up making itself present in the form of a cold tone of voice which the elder could have sworn dropped the temperature of the room a degree or two, like the atmosphere itself feared the man.
"This recklessness is unacceptable," Ikari spoke. The irritation from before no longer existed in his tone, and he seemed to almost not care at all, in stark contrast to his statement. It was still cold, however; dissatisfied.
"Care to elaborate?" Fuyutsuki cautiously queried, glancing at the Commander, who had let the bunch of papers drop from his hand and onto his desk.
"The recent angel attack," he replied, deadpan tone persisting, "and all of the accompanying damages to Unit-01 and Unit-02."
Fuyutsuki distinctly felt as if there were more that Gendo wished to say, so he remained silent. The man liked to remain concise, which was a quality quite difficult to master in this field of work-there was always a lot to say.
After about a minute more in silence, Ikari continued, "They're getting antsy."
"As elderly men usually do."
Though not named, it was obvious who was mentioned. Seele. Those old bastards held all the cards which was somewhat distressing in light of ongoing events. At the rate things were proceeding at, he supposed he'd have to play courtjester to squeeze funds out of their pockets. The only indicator of Ikari's anxiety was the readjustment of his glasses, which he had suddenly decided were bothering him.
"Fuyutsuki," Gendo spoke again, "I'm going to conference." His only response was a slight bow of the head in agreement. As wretched a decision as it was, he knew that if they were to defeat the 7th Angel, he would have to appeal to his superiors for additional repair funds. This, as it usually did, would be stretching his luck quite a bit.
Gendo exhaled, soundlessly.
"You seem to take quite a liking to that robot!" One of the monoliths exclaimed, be it in mockery, suspicion, or both. Ikari didn't quite care to identify the number of the one which spoke. They were all the same, those swine. He kept his movement to the bare minimum, placing his hands in front of his face and glancing upwards only when directly addressed.
"It is," he spoke, "our last line of defence."
"You go so far as to even get it a fresh paintjob!" Another one of the old kooks chimed in, much to the chagrin of the Commander. "Which, might we add, is quite tasking on the taxpayers."
"You never treat the other units this way."
"I do believe it is safe to assume that our friend and associate here has taken quite a liking to the machine. This will not be the main focus of the meeting," another monolith spoke up with a more serious tone; almost authoritative. Ikari was nearly relieved, until the moron went a not-so different direction.
"Rather, the discussion should remain centered on budget cuts. I refuse to continue pampering a weapon."
One of them, with an exceptionally ridiculous accent-probably Germany's representative-chose that moment to change the course of the decision. "No, no, I have quite the better idea. I am willing to put in the money required to keep Gendo's love machine up-and-running, but I am requisitioning drastic modifications to the aesthetic properties of the thing."
"If you're paying, you wish to be spending your money correctly, then," another one stated the obvious, feeling the need to parrot the words of his affiliate. Number 07, apparently.
"Allow me to make a proposal," he continued. Unbeknownst to the Commander, the participating members of the meeting all took part in a momentary brainstorming session that did not involve him. He was aware that they could project information amongst themselves, and just as easily exclude or censor data which they did not feel relevant to him.
A couple of them suppressed laughter, as if a good joke was shared, and not a tool to humiliate Gendo Ikari. After all, they were aware of the fact that obsession did not come without a price.
Monolith 01 toggled Ikari's screen, displaying to him the decision which they had come to agree upon. His decisions were limited-to-none, and to avoid utter defeat he nodded his head solemnly, dismissing himself from the meeting.
"I...I did not know the old men were even into such a thing," the Vice Commander could all but choke out when Gendo had given him the news. The Commander himself was torn between disbelief and rage, both of which manifested themselves in a dangerous stillness. Moments prior, with two fingers, he set his glasses onto his desk, and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "We're fighting angels, not impressing the public," at this point he spoke more to assure himself of this fact than to convince anyone else who may have been listening.
He had sent down the revised schematics to Ritsuko, who would be overseeing the operation to modify Unit-01's existing exterior armor to better suit the interests of the committee. He dared not glance at any communications device in his possession, not wanting to face questioning from anyone.
"If anyone begins to call us the Nerv Center, I'm out," Fuyutsuki commented, forcing Gendo to elicit a barely-suppressed cough-snort.
"If you ever make that joke again, I'll have you shot."
Commander Ikari stood before Unit-01, face-to-face with the cybernetic behemoth. Its eyes glowed a faint yellow and he felt as if it were ignoring him, if not flat-out denying his presence.
It couldn't be helped. He knew very well that if someone ordered a giant phallus slapped onto his head, he'd ignore them for the rest of eternity as well.
"I was...ordered to," he spoke under his breath. "Oh, God. Yui, I'm...sorry."
He glanced at the metal platform which he stood upon, just for a moment. There was absolutely no way in hell Shinji would pilot now, he reckoned. The boy wasn't his primary concern, but it was still incomprehensibly awkward.
Shinji, he imagined himself saying, get in the fucking robot.
There was a time and a place for explaining to colleagues your reasoning behind slapping a massive dildo onto the head of your primary defense, but that time would have to come later.
At least it will serve to scare the angels away, Gendo thought.
Yes.
Far, far away.