Hospitals. The same hospital. Always the same hospital. The last stop before crazytown, before everything goes Tang-shaped. At this point, death would be a release; one he never quite gets. Death is too good for him, he thinks; gazing impassively at the lump in the lone hospital bed. He knows what he's supposed to say here, and he knows that it won't do him any good.
"Help me." Nothing. Of course there would be nothing, she's in a fucking coma. She's dead to the world, at least for the present moment. He says it again, to no response. Tentative steps to the side of the bed, to his broken idol.
"C'mon, crack a joke. Tell me I'm stupid, get angry." He reaches out a hand, freezes. She's untouchable. "Do something." He has to, it's written in stone. Or at least, in paper and ink. He grits his teeth, balls his fists.
"Help me. Save me." He looms over the girl, now standing strong over his tormentor. He finally has social control in this situation, not that it makes him feel any better. He feels sick, looking down on the doll wearing his comrade's face. Her hair, once a burning red, has faded and frayed to dry blood. Blue eyes glassed over like fine china, infuriatingly fragile. This isn't right. It makes him angry in her stead. Dammit, this isn't right. He should be the one numb to sensation. This isn't right. How come she gets to die?
"Why won't you help me!" He grabs at her shoulders, no longer afraid. "Save me dammit!" With a jerk, he pulls her towards him, pulling off the sheets. He stops; dumbstruck. The Holy Grail is staring him in the face. Soft, white, pert, and wholly unearned; they're what he's always wanted to see. Not like this though, for the love of God not like this. His breath catches in his throat, he almost heaves. There's an uncomfortable stirring in his loins, an urge that needs to to be sated. He wants it, wants to be her Prince Charming, wants to make a grim fairy tale. He sinks over her, hands firmly planted on her breasts. They're everything he dreamed they would be. He wants more, craves it. His hand skitters down her chest, down to her stomach. Her skin is warm, creamy smooth. Just a little bit further.
No. That's enough of that.
Anger, disgusted anger flares up inside him. He bites his lower lip, burning tears rolling down his cheeks. He growls, nails digging into the flesh of his palms. And he does what 85% of the Evangelion fandom has wanted to do since the show aired.
In this cycle, number [REDACTED] of [REDACTED], Shinji Ikari learns the joys of smacking a bitch up.
~!~!~!
"Oh man, I can't believe we got to second base! I'm so not letting you live that one down Shinjecchi."
"Wait, I'm punching you in the stomach, and you're disgusted about me copping a feel?"
"Hey, I probably deserved the punching; the groping is just perverse. And you were going to rape me too."
"Rape is a such a strong word Asuka, I prefer the term "unrequited heavy petting"."
"And you wonder why I say you're a sexual deviant. Bandages, comatose girls, like it when they can't fight back, huh?"
"Should we get back to the story?"
"Nah, I think this time I flip out and choke you, like in the manga."
~!~!~!
The spark of life flickers in the comatose girl's eyes. She processes feelings again. She processes pain. Heavy blows rock her abdomen, a precursor to her final sortie. A looping blow flies towards her face, and her instincts kick into overdrive. She tilts her head to the side and snakes her arm under the blow. Her hand wraps around a scrawny neck, and she smiles. The more things stay the same, the more things change. Like a zombie, she rises up from the bed, her bangs casting malevolent shadows across her face.
"You didn't call me a doll this time."
~!~!~!
"Fuck yeah, even comatose I can kick your ass!"
"I wake you up without relieving myself sexually and you thank me with a hand around my throat. That's a pretty good explanation for our relationship."
"Hey, choking is how I show affection. Choking and emasculation. It's the tsundere way."
"Can we get on with the actual plot now?"
"You mad, Shinji?"
~!~!~!
Track 9: Minor Threat
The roar of a compromised Evangelion unit is an interesting thing. Think the sound of nails on a chalkboard, mixed with a Wookie battle cry, multiplied by the auditory equivalent of Mike Tyson biting your ear off. Now imagine that, but while you're in the bathroom, relieving yourself. That is where we find Touji Suzuhara, on-again, off-again Fourth Child and one of the few people to survive Yui Ikari nee EVA-01's fits of pique.
"Oh man, that feels good."
"You shouldn't hold it in like that Touji," his bespectacled beta male friend quips. "Bad for your bladder. Makes it harder to get it up later."
"Like you'd know anything about that," Touji says in a huff.
"You wound me to the quick, senora," Kensuke says with a grin. "Just looking out for Horaki's...I mean your sake."
Touji looks down at the urinal: brain trying to processes of trying not to get a glimpse of wang, hiding his growing blush, and choking down the urge to knock his best friend out.
"Shut up 'Suke," he growls. His nerdy accomplice chuckles.
"You're too easy Touji, far too easy." He shifts his glasses up with a middle finger, for an instant the light catches them in an Ikariesque fashion. Somewhere, Gendo contemplates copyrighting that look.
"Besides, I wasn't even talking about pissing," Touji says into his chest.
"Of course you weren't. It feels good not to be strapped into Unit 03, you mean."
"Yeah. Kinda glad it's not me getting eaten. Having your entrails torn from you, even if they aren't actually your entrails, hurts like a bitch." Touji glances upwards and outwards, towards the sounds of the battlefield. "And I don't have to die this time."
"Which is always nice," Kensuke chimes in. "You think Sohryu drew the short straw again?"
"It'd probably be good for her," Touji spits. "Would take her down a peg or two."
Kensuke mouths a silent curse, losing precious control of his flow. "That's pretty harsh. You mad because she's more of a meathead jock than you are?" He glances at his athletic counterpart, lips curled upwards. "Or is it because you think she and Horaki are..."
"Shut up!" Touji snaps, staring dead at Kensuke. "Don't say that pervy shit about Horaki and Sohryu!" Kensuke keeps his attention on the urinal, his smile ticking up a notch.
"Why Touji, my dear boy," he says with mock sincerity, "whatever would make you think I was being perverted?" He's not going to get punched, as long as he's occupied with expulsion, he might as well have an anti-Suzuhara AT-Field up right now. "Although, she did turn to Horaki first when things went pear-shaped. You never know what a desperate girl would do for companionship, or a sweet Yamato Nadeshiko type would do to soothe a friend's hurting heart."
At this point, Touji's so red he could go three times faster and no one would bat an eye. He knows he can't do anything without violating Bro Code, so he settles for kicking over a trash can.
"Sometimes I hate you Aida. I hate you so much."
"Love you too Suzuhara," Kensuke says, sing-song as he finishes up. "Oh, your fly's undone." Touji's head snaps down so quickly you'd think he'd break his neck. When he looks back up, his vision is as red as his face.
"You're too easy, far too easy," Kensuke says with a chuckle. The punch to the face probably wasn't easy at all though. "Oh God, I think you broke my nose!"
~!~!~!
"Oh God, I think she just broke Unit 03's neck," Maya gulps, trying to hold back the urge to vomit. She had seen glimpses of the Fourth Child in simulations; the Marquis de Sade would have blanched. Seeing it in reality, however, was far worse.
"Remember Fourth, this is not a simulation," Ritsuko says, one hand running through her two-toned hair. "We have to pay damages if you break things," she groans.
Inside the Entry Plug of Evangelion Unit 04, Mari heard only the roar of the crowd. Blondie's words were like some buzzing insect, one she couldn't squash. The thing in front of her, that she could squash in earnest.
"Can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am," she pants, tossing her quarry around by the neck. With a whipcrack, she flings the Angelic unit into the ground, over and over again. The neck begins to stretch and extend like putty, and the other extremities begin to follow suit. With a skitter, it twists itself into a stable position, on all fours. It screeches in Unit 04's face as the body leaps behind it; garotting 04 with its own throat.
"Well, that's something you don't see every day," Misato says with a hiccup. "Mari, Prog Knife!"
"Got it!" she croaks, one hand around her phantom noose. A hip pauldron rockets the knife into Unit 04's waiting hand. She brings it forwards in hacking blows, ripping bloody chunks in the unit's neck. With a spurt of offal, she works the Angel's head from its shoulders. Both units fall back, the Angel screeching bloody murder on Unit 04's shoulder.
"Shut the fuck up already," Mari groans, stabbing the unit through its jaw. She ties the dangling head and neck behind her, tossing it back in a jauntily macabre scarf. As Bardiel reconstructs the head of its host, the first thing it sees is the insolent Lilim desecrating his former head. The gall of it makes him sick. With a mighty roar, it leaps, raking razor-sharp claws at Unit 04. Mari doesn't bother dodging, instead choosing to bring Unit 04's twin tonfas to bear.
"Mari, what the hell are you doing? Dodge! Fall back and keep it at bay with the Pallet Gun!" Misato grumbles, she didn't need another suicidal pilot; awesome though she may be. "That's an order!"
"Fuck your orders, I've got this!"
"Now is not the time for insubordination!"
"Just hold on a minute," Mari says, a look in her eye that is nowhere near sane. Unit 03 dives straight towards her, new set of teeth glinting wickedly in the noonday sun. She flips a single tonfa upwards, then punches straight into it's open mouth. The blow reverberates throughout the Angel's body, snapping its head back. With a cry, Mari wills her unit forward, Unit 04 breaking into a mad dash. A trigger on the console unleashes a burst of positron energy out the back of the Angel's head. It goes limp for a moment, but that moment is all she needs. She and EVA-04 leap, and land atop the battered Angel in a manner akin to a skateboard. With a whoop and a holler, she grinds its face against a building, riding it all the way down. In a sizzling crater, she sits atop the broken Angel, eyes gleaming. With frenzied intensity, she rains blow after blow upon any open bit of Unit 03.
"Come on, come on come on come on," she moans. "Make it interesting, make me feel something! Don't make this a one-woman show!"
"I...guess that works too," Misato stammers. "But it's still insubordination."
Ritsuko switches between staring in blank horror at the screen and glaring at Misato. She said this one was normal, that she didn't have the issues the other three Children had. She was right. The Fourth's were much worse.
"Fourth Child, leave something for us to analyze," she says in an authoritarian tone. She is responded to with a series of moans and squeals really only fit to be coming from Maya's mouth during their...experiments. She's a biological engineer, not a psychiatrist, but it's obvious that she's the only one sane enough to deal with these loons. Funny thing that, seeing as how she lost her sanity long ago, she muses.
"Fuck it, I'm done with this one," Mari pouts, punching a tonfa straight through the chest of what was Unit 03. "She's not doing it for me."
Misato sighs, using her bottle as a cold compress. "Mari, we're going to have a long, boring talk about the chain of command and child pornography laws when you get back."
"Yeah, whatever," she says flippantly. She turns away, Unit 04 putting a few shots into Unit 03 as a parting gift. "I didn't even pop once. I thought the Americans did things bigger and better?"
~!~!~!
Bardiel did not expect this. He did not expect this at all. Iruel had given him data on the attack patterns of EVA-01, a rampaging demon, the bane of all Angelkind. Iruel's data had done fuckall against one oversexed 16 year old and a pair of tonfas. This was unforgivable. Completely unforgivable. She had missed the core, so he could be rebuild. He could take her by surprise, wipe that smug look off her pet demon's face. He could-
"Heeeee~eeeey."
"Wait, this isn't a crossover," the bluish overmind projects. It turns its senses inwards, and is greeted by two red eyes, black flower petals honed to cruel points.
"This is my EVA Mr. Angel, so if you don't mind, I'll be taking it back now." Unit 03 sprouts a cancerous blue growth atop its head. "Also, would you happen to have anything to eat?"
"I have evolved beyond such trivialities as eating and why are you licking your lips?"
"Aw, that's too bad. See you next time!"
The last thing Bardiel senses are monomolecular sharp teeth digging into it, rending and tearing. It is the most familiar agony he has experienced. As his sense of self fades away, he is aware of one final thought.
"What the fuck is a 'Nonoriri'?"
~!~!~!
"EVA-03 is getting back up! The core has not been pierced!" Makoto Hyuuga pauses. "Wait, does that growth look like an ahoge to anybody else?"
Maya looks at it, tilting her head quizzically. "You know what, it kind of does."
Deep in the bowels of Central Dogma, a certain robotic soldier cannot believe her cybernetically-enhanced eyes. "Wait, what the hell?" Mana sputters, spraying the drink she was sipping all over the Supreme Commander of NERV. "It's not dead?"
"Of course not. Until you drenched me with bourbon that costs as much as your implants," Commander Ikari mutters, wiping the precious amber liquid from his face, "I was going to say 'Everything is going exactly according to the scenario.'" He cleans off his sunglasses with quiet intensity.
"You keep saying that, and I'm starting to think it's kinda bullshit." Even though my internal polygraph seems to be dinging true. "You can't just go 'Just as planned' to everything and have people consider you a magnificent bastard." She sits back. "Although, you do have the bastard part in spades already."
"But I assure you Miss Kirishima, this is according to the scenario. Does that growth not remind you of an ahoge?"
"Well yeah, but what does that have to do with..." Recognition dawns on Mana's face. "Wait, Liao's piloting Unit 03, right?"
A brief nod.
Mana smiles, half amused half scared. "Okay, if this works, you might just get that magnificent bit. Keep it up, and you might even get the coveted crazy awesome, like that other Gendo."
"Why Miss Kirishima, whatever makes you think that I am not magnificent?" The glasses glint again, his tented hands not even close to hiding the grin on his face. "And what made you assume that I was not already awesomely insane?" On the lavish internal display, the Angel formerly known as Bardiel roared in triumph.
~!~!~!
Inside of the Angel formerly known as Bardiel, Liao Rei squeed like a tweeny bopper with a non-threatening boy. She had a long chat with Unit 03 while the Angel was mucking about; the tonfa nearly splitting the core in twain had hit her spot for afternoon tea instead. Which made her sad. But then she got to learn that Bardiel tastes a lot like marshmallow fluff. Which made her happy again.
"Hey, boobie lady! Turn around!"
Inside her cockpit, Mari perks up; glasses sliding down her face. Is she hearing things? She gives a sideways glance over her shoulder, only to find Unit 03 back on its feet, with a long, saberlike protrusion sticking out from its head.
"Is that an ahoge?" She doesn't have much longer to further that train of thought, as Unit 03 has just grown two new pairs of arms with intent to add more hugs. You know, from the inside.
"Rar, I'm an Angel!" Liao roars in unison with her compromised mecha, dashing forth with all six arms outstretched.
Mari laughs, a deep belly laugh. Maybe this was going to be fun after all. "Alright Bootleg, let's pop that cherry for real."
{to be continued}