Well here is the next part in my little fic. The same old same old applies
I do not own EVA or its characters or themes. I do not own the couch or TV
mentioned or a couch or TV at all. (That was my attempt at developing
author sympathy) Should I ever acquire EVA, I will surely posses a couch
and a TV. On with the show.
In the darkness of the void, an old fashioned typewriter's clicking marked the passage of null time with ceaseless inaccuracy. Sitting at its desk the typewriter was operated by a middle-aged man, slightly portly, with dark hair and age in his eyes. An old television from the late 50's on its own stand, and a worn out couch were all that were to this realm. Nothing lay beyond them, neither light nor shadow. A place not beginning or ending, nor anything in between. Only the sudden sound of footsteps from behind brought the man pause.
"Well B.T . It's been awhile."
"So it seems, but then again perhaps not."
"You know, you might have more luck with women if you spoke in some other way then you wrote."
Rising from his raged chair, Tennyson, Keeper of the Chronicles, turned and looked his old friend in the face
"You haven't changed. You never do, as so myself"
"I have changed, will change and shall so long as I ask the question; as so yourself."
Crouching over, Tennyson took full stock of his friend. He evaluated his mental list and found it fully satisfied, except.
"You're smiling 1.2 millimeters wider then usual Val.What has the little fool done now?"
With a flop and a sigh the gray-eyed boy positioned himself on the couch. Tennyson, his interest peaked, brought his chair over and watched the childlike expressions flow across his face. After a pregnant pause and impatience born of the void, a small smile crept onto his calloused face.
"Welcome to my parlor said the spider to the fly.One day I may figure out which role is mine.
"There are naught but spiders in this web."
"There is naught in this room, wherein do we feed?"
"The words live, their strength is meat."
"You haven't answered my question."
With sudden seriousness, Val sat up and motioned Tennyson to listen closely.
"My distinguished other has found another who shall choose."
"This hasn't happened before has it?"
"No, not even once."
"Will he take responsibility?
"One cannot say."
"And you?"
"Nor can we."
Not another word was spoken between them, the elder returned to his typewriter. But his eyes were now affixed on the TV screen. The other just closed his eyes, and concentrated. Both were poised and ready, for what they did not know. Neither spoke aloud their excitement, both feeding on the moments as they trickled in. On the screen, a picture came into focus.
***********************************************************************
I enter the apartment of Gendo Ikari, a man many hate at first glance. Why you ask? No man is without reason. I felt a need to discover them. The easiest way would be to read his mind; I however find that method very distasteful. What else was sacred in this world? So I did what anyone else would do, I asked him. While he sleeps, he will not know to hide his mind from me. I will walk in his dream. When he wakes, he will most likely not remember me.
In a vast dark plain me, black shapes move around me. Shapes moved by him. The sheer morbid nature of it was choking!
"Tell me, why have you made this?"
"It is the only way."
"Is that so?..."
"I cannot undue what has been done. But I can speed it on by my own hand."
"Why do this?"
"If I don't, I will never see her again. Not in this world, not in the next."
"Would you still choose this, if I restored her to you?"
"It is her will."
"I see. forgive my intrusion.."
"."
As I left, I couldn't help but pity the man.
Asuka Langley Soyru. From over her bed, the mark of a dried tear is plainly visible. Turning from one side to the other, her sleep is obviously not well. I will walk in her dream. I will ask her what demons chase her now. When she wakes, she will not recall.
What resembles a giant rat maze is instead her gauntlet. Crying and screaming at every corner and dead end, she runs in circles. A women's corpse hangs by an unseen rope at every one. One exit to this maze is visible, and yet she runs by not seeing it, nor accepting it.
"Tell me, why are you running?"
"I want to leave here! I want to leave HER!"
"There is the exit, do you not see it?..
"Its not!! That leads back to her!"
"Are you sure? Have you ever looked? Have you ever tried?"
"I, I don't need to, I don't have to!"
"What is it you see?"
"Hands, many hands. Trying to take me."
"Out of here?"
"No, back to her!"
"Will you take my hand?"
"NO! NOOOOO!!"
She ran from me as if I came for her very soul, stumbling and screaming.
Shinji Ikari. His headphones blaring even as he sleeps. I could throw a party in this bleak room and not be noticed. His room is much cleaner then that other child's, he does most of the chores around here, her laundry as well? Not time for that now.
Around me is a fog-drenched wood. Upon an outcropping the mist, he sits not moving in the least. His eyes show fear, fear of the unknown; fear of others. It is the mortal terror and horror that indecision can invoke in people, and freeze them to their souls.
"Tell me, what are you waiting for?"
"For someone to guide me."
"From this place?"
"I do not know."
"Who are u waiting for?"
"I do not know."
"For how long will you wait here?"
"I do not know."
I turn and walk away from the fog; he does not acknowledge exit any more then my entry.
Rei Ayanami, a ghost in the moonlight. Who can guess what I will see here; even in sleep she betrays no clue to her thoughts. But I sincerely hope she dreams of someplace more agreeable then this apartment. This reality almost makes Gendo's nightmare seem inviting. Once again, I walk into the dream.
What is this!? A vast plane of orange! Liquid it seems, for I can make out the rippling of its surface. But where is she? I scan the unending distance hoping to glean her shape. Until the soft speaking of an angel grabs me from behind.
"Who are you?"
I turn to find her behind me, floating inches above the plain. I look in her red eyes, and she stares back at me. This was unexpected.
In the darkness of the void, an old fashioned typewriter's clicking marked the passage of null time with ceaseless inaccuracy. Sitting at its desk the typewriter was operated by a middle-aged man, slightly portly, with dark hair and age in his eyes. An old television from the late 50's on its own stand, and a worn out couch were all that were to this realm. Nothing lay beyond them, neither light nor shadow. A place not beginning or ending, nor anything in between. Only the sudden sound of footsteps from behind brought the man pause.
"Well B.T . It's been awhile."
"So it seems, but then again perhaps not."
"You know, you might have more luck with women if you spoke in some other way then you wrote."
Rising from his raged chair, Tennyson, Keeper of the Chronicles, turned and looked his old friend in the face
"You haven't changed. You never do, as so myself"
"I have changed, will change and shall so long as I ask the question; as so yourself."
Crouching over, Tennyson took full stock of his friend. He evaluated his mental list and found it fully satisfied, except.
"You're smiling 1.2 millimeters wider then usual Val.What has the little fool done now?"
With a flop and a sigh the gray-eyed boy positioned himself on the couch. Tennyson, his interest peaked, brought his chair over and watched the childlike expressions flow across his face. After a pregnant pause and impatience born of the void, a small smile crept onto his calloused face.
"Welcome to my parlor said the spider to the fly.One day I may figure out which role is mine.
"There are naught but spiders in this web."
"There is naught in this room, wherein do we feed?"
"The words live, their strength is meat."
"You haven't answered my question."
With sudden seriousness, Val sat up and motioned Tennyson to listen closely.
"My distinguished other has found another who shall choose."
"This hasn't happened before has it?"
"No, not even once."
"Will he take responsibility?
"One cannot say."
"And you?"
"Nor can we."
Not another word was spoken between them, the elder returned to his typewriter. But his eyes were now affixed on the TV screen. The other just closed his eyes, and concentrated. Both were poised and ready, for what they did not know. Neither spoke aloud their excitement, both feeding on the moments as they trickled in. On the screen, a picture came into focus.
***********************************************************************
I enter the apartment of Gendo Ikari, a man many hate at first glance. Why you ask? No man is without reason. I felt a need to discover them. The easiest way would be to read his mind; I however find that method very distasteful. What else was sacred in this world? So I did what anyone else would do, I asked him. While he sleeps, he will not know to hide his mind from me. I will walk in his dream. When he wakes, he will most likely not remember me.
In a vast dark plain me, black shapes move around me. Shapes moved by him. The sheer morbid nature of it was choking!
"Tell me, why have you made this?"
"It is the only way."
"Is that so?..."
"I cannot undue what has been done. But I can speed it on by my own hand."
"Why do this?"
"If I don't, I will never see her again. Not in this world, not in the next."
"Would you still choose this, if I restored her to you?"
"It is her will."
"I see. forgive my intrusion.."
"."
As I left, I couldn't help but pity the man.
Asuka Langley Soyru. From over her bed, the mark of a dried tear is plainly visible. Turning from one side to the other, her sleep is obviously not well. I will walk in her dream. I will ask her what demons chase her now. When she wakes, she will not recall.
What resembles a giant rat maze is instead her gauntlet. Crying and screaming at every corner and dead end, she runs in circles. A women's corpse hangs by an unseen rope at every one. One exit to this maze is visible, and yet she runs by not seeing it, nor accepting it.
"Tell me, why are you running?"
"I want to leave here! I want to leave HER!"
"There is the exit, do you not see it?..
"Its not!! That leads back to her!"
"Are you sure? Have you ever looked? Have you ever tried?"
"I, I don't need to, I don't have to!"
"What is it you see?"
"Hands, many hands. Trying to take me."
"Out of here?"
"No, back to her!"
"Will you take my hand?"
"NO! NOOOOO!!"
She ran from me as if I came for her very soul, stumbling and screaming.
Shinji Ikari. His headphones blaring even as he sleeps. I could throw a party in this bleak room and not be noticed. His room is much cleaner then that other child's, he does most of the chores around here, her laundry as well? Not time for that now.
Around me is a fog-drenched wood. Upon an outcropping the mist, he sits not moving in the least. His eyes show fear, fear of the unknown; fear of others. It is the mortal terror and horror that indecision can invoke in people, and freeze them to their souls.
"Tell me, what are you waiting for?"
"For someone to guide me."
"From this place?"
"I do not know."
"Who are u waiting for?"
"I do not know."
"For how long will you wait here?"
"I do not know."
I turn and walk away from the fog; he does not acknowledge exit any more then my entry.
Rei Ayanami, a ghost in the moonlight. Who can guess what I will see here; even in sleep she betrays no clue to her thoughts. But I sincerely hope she dreams of someplace more agreeable then this apartment. This reality almost makes Gendo's nightmare seem inviting. Once again, I walk into the dream.
What is this!? A vast plane of orange! Liquid it seems, for I can make out the rippling of its surface. But where is she? I scan the unending distance hoping to glean her shape. Until the soft speaking of an angel grabs me from behind.
"Who are you?"
I turn to find her behind me, floating inches above the plain. I look in her red eyes, and she stares back at me. This was unexpected.