RichardRahl—Heh… nice one. While I don't particularly like Asuka, I don't hate her either. Besides, I have plans for her. Though you'll have to wait a bit, methinks you're going to like the way Gendo dies… hehehehehehehehehehehe… Kazuo of Battle Royale might give you a hint if you've read the book…
legacyZero—not so much "insane stunts" as rampant stupidity in choosing his course of action.
A/N: "You're in my way! Back down!" "We are the Shigesuke Heima trained in the technique of Hokushin Itto-Ryu!" "I don't care!" Battousai-Kenshin then proceeds to slaughter all of them. heh…
Disclaimer: WTF? ^^ Who needs to read one of these to know that me no own?
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Ocean Red
Chapter 10: Fight for Life…
A Neon Genesis Evangelion Fanfiction
By CrimsonNoble
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Shinji calmly held the struggling man to his chest. His task was made easier by the way the chain was cutting off circulation to the man's brain, slowing the man's body.
He took a moment to ponder, and then loosened the chain slightly. Never know, might need the man conscious, after all. Then again… he absentmindedly tightened the chain. He could just kill the man now, and let the Captain take command of the fleet. Sure, it would probably be illegal…
But hell, that didn't stop anyone. Then again, she technically wasn't in the chain of command for the US fleet. He'd have to kill… well, more or less everyone before she got the command.
Nothing he'd actually object to, of course.
When the man started to go limp, he loosened the chain, to hear the ragged, gasping breath of someone who was trying to recover from being strangled.
Kat-lady was half-glaring at him; the other half of her attention was directed toward the… red and orange… Eva Unit 02.
"Goddamn! Did you intentionally hire blind designers?" Shinji wondered aloud. Not that he believed in god, but he thought it best to offend whatever higher powers existed if he wanted to blaspheme something. And if none existed, he succeeded in offending all religious idiots; enough reason for him to do it, though it was a bit less fulfilling.
Outside, the Eva Unit had just finished dropping its progressive knife into the deck of the carrier, which slid along the deck until it reached the bow, then raking down the side, reaching below the waterline.
Okay, so the carrier was going to sink. Oops.
In the meantime, Unit 02 was struggling with the whale like angel, which didn't look entirely unlike it had beached itself on the deck. Nevertheless, it was still trying to roll over, and thus crush the unlucky Eva.
Actually, upon further reflection, the Angel looked like an oversized dolphin. Well, a fat oversized dolphin with teeth straight out of a B-rated horror film. Furthermore, it was an off-bleach color that reminded Shinji of rotting meat. Damn ugly, in other words.
"Well, she just sucks at fighting, doesn't she?" Shinji observed as Unit 02 was thrown from the ship.
Boredly he let the Admiral go completely, wandering away.
"Wait!" The Kat-lady shouted. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
Shinji glanced back. "Radio room. Gotta tell ayche-cue that the stupid bitch out there fucked up." He replied, slurring somewhat on HQ.
The purple haired woman bristled at the slur upon her friend. "Oh, like you would have done better?"
Shinji turned an empty, cold gaze at her. "First, I wouldn't have dropped the knife. Second, I wouldn't have let it survive long enough to knock me off the ship. And thirdly, if I had been knocked off, I would have blown the Eva up."
The sudden shift in demeanor, combined with the cold analysis of the situation and the declaration of his "suicide to win" tendencies temporarily struck the Ops-dee into silence. Long enough for Shinji to escape, at any rate.
"Misato!"
Her head whipped around at the Second's agonized scream. "Uh…Ideas anyone?"
Inside Unit 02, the German girl was shivering. Not from the cold, but from a mixture of anger, despair, and general distaste for the world. "Gott… damn… I'm not… losing… like… this…"
Her hands started pushing every button in the Eva in panic, exhibiting an interesting array of effects. A second prog knife fell from the open right shoulder pylon, which the girl desperately attempted to grab, but failed, small jets of propellant were released from both pylons, dragging her slightly closer to the Angel's core, in an agonizing offensive movement as the teeth tore at her. And then, most importantly, from the left shoulder pylon a spray of spikes fired at point blank range into the core.
The offensively platypus-like Angel convulsed once, before simply beginning to sink.
"D-damn…" Asuka whispered as she sank, clutched tightly in the jaws of the Angel.
"Reel in the cable!" Misato roared at the deckbound engineers.
--
Shinji yawned, seated as he was in the radio room. He hadn't actually intended to go there, but he had told Kat-lady that was where he was going, so to hell with it. He didn't really have anywhere to go.
Well, he could have jacked a VTOL, but he didn't want to bother with the whole, "I stole it to get my ass out of a potentially lethal situation," bullshit. And then there was the whole, "I don't know how to fly a VTOL," thing too. He made a mental note to force someone to teach him that.
Slowly he drifted off, the not-so-comforting hum of the radios lulling him into a not-so-fitful slumber.
The way he'd hooked his hands over an overhead pipe was comforting though. It was that more than anything else that helped him drift away.
--
Shinji stumbled off the ship, held at gunpoint by a somewhat unjustly ired Kat-lady. After all, he'd only minorly injured the German pilot. And he hadn't even caused lasting damage to the Head Honcho man. So what was the problem here?
Had he asked Misato herself, she would have told him that she hated him, and never wanted to see him again, and furthermore that she would have gladly shot him on the spot if the Commander, in one of his fits of rather rare insight, her own words, not given her orders that she was not to touch the third child, nor injure him in any way, shape, or form, but that if he kept bothering her, he might find that her trigger finger didn't exactly listen to authority too well!
Whereupon, being out of breath, she would have fallen silent. As the grave. And Nodachi, being who he was, would have promptly aided in making that level of volume permanent, most likely by throwing her into the ocean, tying rocks to her feet, and parading her naked through the center of Tokyo-3 in hopes of killing her in shame. Not necessarily in that order, of course, but that would have been the end result of his actions.
However, at the moment, she was more along the sound of a full kettle on a hot stove. Which, quite naturally, put his thoughts in a reeling spin toward the idea of boiling people in oil. More specifically, along the lines of, //Would their flesh slough off, or would it become like good leather? Or would it become tender and juicy? Like a good steak? Ouuu! Stakes! Burning stakes in their hearts!// and such.
Absent-mindedly he began to finger the scar under his left eye, a nervous habit he hadn't yet fully managed to stop. Well, not so much nervous as automatic. A nervous twitch would have been his finger on the trigger of a -- quite possibly smoking -- gun. As he had no gun, he was not twitching nervously.
Behind him, Kat-lady appeared to hesitate for a moment, which in a movie would have been a dramatic pause. In real life, however, it simply made her look crippled. She came to a decision, and ignoring all evidence of his nigh-supernatural ability to anticipate attacks, stepped closer to the boy, raising her gun as she did so.
And then in a lightning-fast movement, she brought it crashing down on the back of his head. Surprisingly enough, it connected.
Further surprisingly, Nodachi dropped to his knees as his eyes unfocused. Kat-lady stepped up to finish the job, unwisely putting her right foot between Shinji's calves.
As she raised the weapon, rearing back on her right leg, Nodachi's head whipped up so he was staring straight into her eyes.
Kat-lady had an instant to be afraid before the target threw his weight to the right, using his legs to trap the older woman's, and take her to the dirt.
Evidently the woman had never been taught how to fall, as she hit the ground shoulder-first with a whoosh of air being expelled from her lungs as the impact jarred her. She was vaguely aware that she had slid slightly upon hitting the ground, ripping the shoulder of her jacket, and scraping the flesh beneath. She was, however, distracted by her sudden inability to breathe properly, and struggled to draw breath into her collapsed lungs.
So it was fairly understandable that she didn't notice Nodachi until he was sitting on her, his knees to either side of her ribs, his hands -- still cuffed -- raised above his head. Fear paralyzed her as she saw his hands begin to descend. Oddly enough, in the face of her demise, she did not see her life flash before her eyes, nor did time seem to slow.
Then his hands slammed into her chest at a point between her breasts and above the lower tip of her sternum, and her body arced in pain. For an instant there was nothing, and then her lungs flooded with air just in time for her to scream. It felt like there was a double-hand shaped dent in her chest, and for an instant she had the irrational thought that the pain was going to kill her. Then she passed out.
'Dachi stood, pushing Misato's unconscious body with his foot. He shrugged, before tugging sharply on his cuffs, breaking them, and stretching. "Never," he told the body, "ever do anything like that again. Because next time I will kill you. Ops-dee or not." For sadistic pleasure, he kicked her hard enough to send her rolling before he walked away.
Several streets, two lost Section-2 agents, and one mugger with a broken neck and no wallet later, 'Dachi nodded to a group of shadows that detached themselves from the wall and slid over to stand next to him.
"Enough with the moronic dramatic entrances Shuri!" He snapped, before kicking her in the ankle for good measure.
Shuri hopped around for a moment, before stalking back toward him and stomping hard on his foot. 'Dachi sniggered, and his fist glanced off her shoulder hard enough to send her reeling away.
In retaliation, Shuriken pounced upon her laughing prey, shooting for, and getting, her arms around his legs just above the knees, before dumping him onto his back as she straightened up. A small grin tugged at the corners of her ice-blue lips as she stared at the downed boy.
Who scowled darkly at her and, in a variation of the move he had used on Kat-lady, rolled, dropping Shuriken onto her face. This time, however, he ended up on sitting on her ass, hugging her leg. Cheerfully ignoring the people trying to break the fight up, he began to lean backward.
Shuriken's face writhed in pain, and she twisted, hammering her left fist deep into 'Dachi's kidney, furthermore lifting him bodily from his position, and sending him to skid across the concrete. In a move reminiscent of Capeoria, and break-dancing, she continued the turn, catching the ground with her left palm, and shoving off with her right hand hard enough to bring her to her feet.
Several feet away, 'Dachi began to coil his body as if he was going to go straight from resting on his shoulders to standing on his feet by doing that jumping thing, before rolling over his head, coming up into a low three-point position, quite like the kind runners rested against the starting block in.
There was an instant in which both were still, ignoring the people crowd around them (some of whom were taking bets on who would win the fight, while at the same time physically assaulting anyone trying to call the police).
Then Shuriken lunged, throwing herself into a jumping sidekick, something both had been taught to never do. Possibly she was hoping that surprise at the total idiocy of her action would stall 'Dachi long enough for her to hit him.
If she was, she was wrong. The boy stepped to the side, and caught her foot as she neared him, using her momentum to spin and slingshot her back the way she came, sending her crashing headfirst into a lamppost, bending it at an awkward angle.
The girl coughed as she pushed herself to her knees, before spitting out something that shone silvery in the light. It hit the ground, and was revealed to be an American quarter. With teeth marks. It had been her chew toy as a small child, and she'd kept it. Bracing her hand against her knee as she stood, she dusted herself off before grinning at Nodachi.
He grinned back, revealing most of his teeth, and began to saunter toward his half.
Who promptly lashed out, aiming a kick at his groin. It hit solidly, though there wasn't quite the effect one would expect.
There was a sound like a bell ringing, and 'Dachi's face twisted oddly. Shuriken, on the other hand, dropped to the sidewalk, clutching her shin as she rolled around, vocalizing her pain in a set of rather extensive curses, mostly involving her forgetting that 'Dachi had a tendency to wear a brass Protector, on the off chance that he ever got into a game of Ro Shambo.*
Well, the other person wouldn't be standing long enough to retaliate, but that was beside the point.
His face still contorted oddly, Shinji stepped over to the screaming girl, and jerked her roughly to her feet by her upper arm. The girl spat on his shoe, saliva mixed with blood, and he nodded cheerfully.
"Accepted in the spirit in which it is given." He replied cheerfully. That was something the Ancient One had taught them, to acknowledge the victor by offering them their water. They didn't know it was originally from a book entitled Dune, or that the Ancient One was literate, for that matter. Mostly because they were close enough to illiterate that they hadn't actually considered the possibility that he would be.
And then the pair limped away from the scene, after retrieving the coin, ignoring the rampant discussion on who exactly had won. Some said that the boy had won; he had after all tossed her into a pole. Some said the girl had won; she had after all been able to spit on his shoe and get away with it.
Another fight broke out between the two factions, and this was the fight the police arrived to find in progress.
--
'Dachi rapped Shuri's head admonishingly.
"You know I wear a Protector. So, whyja do it?" He inquired conversationally.
She responded by slamming her fist into his gut, laughing as he doubled over, the air blasted from his lungs. He mumbled something incoherent, before whirling, dropping his ass so his back was straight while not changing the height his shoulders were at, and rammed his elbow into her lower back, somewhere between the spinal column and her kidney.
She stumbled, still off-balanced from being thrown into a metal lamppost, and lashed out with a roundhouse kick that would have made a Muay Thai practitioner turn green with envy. It never connected, as Nodachi caught it and twisted sharply, dumping Shuriken onto her back, before stomping on the inner thigh of her left leg.
As his booted foot rammed rather painfully into the cluster of nerves, Shuri hissed, then drawing a knife, which plunged into the material of Dachi's pants, mercifully missing flesh. At first, at least. For she then slashed inward, the blade cutting through his sock, and biting into his shinbone before sticking.
Nodachi yelped, hissed as he stepped off her, and then stomped on her wrist, being rewarded by a crunch as the bones fractured. Shuri screamed, loud enough to force Dachi away, her voice slashing ruthlessly through his oversensitive ears, before she ripped the knife from his leg and stabbed him again. This time, pinning his foot to the stairwell.
Dark blue eyes dropped to the weapon sticking out of his foot, the spreading crimson puddle, and more importantly, the hole in his boot!
Cold eyes flickered up at the girl, before he reached down and ripped the weapon from his flesh. For a moment he stared at the hole, before flexing his toes.
Then he gripped the knife by the blade and simply crushed it. Shards of metal pierced his skin, though more shards simply cascaded to the floor, sparkling in a deadly manner. His hand opened, and blood dripped slowly to the stairs, staining the shining metal.
His eyes turned upward to Shuriken, and in his eyes she saw a promise of her imminent demise. //Oh, hell// she thought, //Not good.//
Jerkily the boy twisted the leather off his wrist, and before Shuriken's eyes began to change.
Nodachi's head elongated, even as it flattened, distorting his features as his skin stretched, and for an instant his skull jutted from between his lips, bleached teeth and bone, before his skin caught up. Even as it did so, his eyes slid behind a covering of skin, so that where sockets had been an instant before, only bloodstained bone could be seen. His eyelids closed, and the disappeared to open over the new position of his eyes, revealing the slatted pupils.
His body dropped to hug the stairs as his knees reversed their joints, and his five toes became two. Before his hands even impacted the plaster, the first two, and the last two fingers had merged; giving him three unnaturally long digits, tipped with rapidly growing fingernails. His skin took on a greyish hue as the six fingers dug furrows in the weakened material.
His entire body stretched, thinning as it did so, revealing that his ribs had molded into one single armor-like plate, before muscle writhed into being over it. Though it was nearly impossible to see, all his meat had melted away from his form for that instant, leaving him a skeleton, before muscle knotted into place. His shirt tore, his thickening neck too much for it, and the rest was ripped as his arms mounted themselves lower than the cloth could tolerate, with regards to his head. His spine stood out in stark relief, and if one looked closely they would see that the armor-like rib only attached to it in one place.
Pants tore as a chorded tail sliced through them, lashing about wildly as it exulted in freedom, denting the walls deeply.
And only then did his ears fade, and skin cover the place the holes had been formerly, though his mop of dirty hair remained. Pale at first, almost non-existent, as scale pattern began to fade in on his skin, though it never changed to actual scales.
And Shuriken found herself looking at one very, very pissed off Living Weapon.
End Chapter
Yeah. Here it is. You see a Saevrok. Shinji Ikari, Nodachi, Saevrok, Third Child, The Sin Within the Sin.
Do whatever. Review if it pleases you.
* Ro Shambo--ignoring my butchery of spelling, this is a game where two guys get together, and start kicking each other in the crotch. Suffice to say, it hurts. See the need for the Protector?