Shinji emerged from darkness slowly. He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the soft loft that filled the entry plug. For a moment his mind reeled as he tried to focus through the slowly waning effects of the sedatives. Not to mention the other chemical cocktails that had been mixed in with the pseudo-LCL surrounding him. Of course, he was unaware of all of that - he simply knew that he appeared to be in an entry plug. His entry plug, perhaps. It all seemed so familiar - the monitors, the control panel laid out below him. It all fit, all slotted into those little compartments of memory that he'd shut and forced back into the recesses of his mind
( ... )
Static buzzed, brief bursts of sound that didn't quite form into words. Then silence, hanging heavy in the confines of the plug for a handful of heartbeats before another hiss of static.
"--nji--"
The voice was female, laden with poorly-hidden strain. Misato? Possible, or a close match to hers.
"--you hear--" Static. "--Shi--"
And then nothing. No sound, no response to his hand on the controls.
In the meantime the doctor sat at the monitors, glasses reflecting the flickering colors playing out on the monitors as they displayed the experiment's status. Shinji's current status, rather. Phase 1 was building the groundwork for what was to come. For now the boy had to explore his situation and come to his own conclusions about this reality.
"Misato?" His voice cracked slightly as he sat up a bit straighter, trying to shake off the feeling of lethargy that weighed him down. Misato sounded worried. Strained. The strain she tried to hide every time, but Shinji could always tell that it was there. He tugged at the controls again, listened to the clunk. No readouts. Nothing to tell him what was going on. He tugged at them again, feeling panic well up in his chest. "Misato?"
Again, there was no response. He reached up to try the hatch - the emergency release didn't budge. This all seemed familiar. Far too familiar. The Sea of Dirac-?
A conclusion came to him through the fog of drugs and confusion. He was still trapped in the Sea of Dirac. In a moment of blind terror and panic, he screamed.
As though the scream was a signal light abruptly flared within the entry plug, shining from both the viewscreens and the equipment panels, bright enough to blind.
...and then it faded, becoming nothing more than the glare of morning sun through a classroom window. Shinji stood alone now, alone within the empty classroom with no sign of the entry plug (Or was there a phantom memory of the feel of LCL against bare skin? Perhaps...) or any other people. Voices in the hallway indicated there was someone there, and more voices from outside the open window. For now, though, the room simply stood in readiness at the beginning of the day.
Shinji's scream faded out as he drew breath and then petered out entirely as he stared at his surroundings in confusion. There was a cold sweat on his brow, as if he'd just woken up out of a nightmare (or was it something more) and for a moment he was dumbfounded, simply staring at the walls of the empty classroom, listening to the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. After what seemed to him an eternity he took a deep shuddering breath and looked down at his hands, flexed them, felt the muscle and bone shift under his skin. His breath caught, then eased as the overwhelming sense of panic and claustrophobia, of the walls being too tight, too close, closing in, crushing him with their weight-
Died.
He stood on rubbery legs, felt and heard the scrape of his chair against the floor as it shifted. This couldn't be right. He'd just been in the entry plug. He'd been trapped, dying as the life support ran out, hallucinating, calling up images of a boy who hadn't really existed, of an institute he'd never seen or heard of before
( ... )
Outside of the plug the information on the monitors was changing rapidly but the doctor hardly noticed; if for the increased speed of typed commands things might have been entirely the same as before, as the white-coated figure remained calm. Emotionless and professional. Within, however, was the tiny kernel of pride, edging almost into what might be called glee, even. It was working. So far, but working.
One finger tapped the enter key and within Shinji's world the classroom doors slid open, admitting the students who'd been lingering in the hallways and filling the room with life, voices raised in a number of conversations and friendly greetings. It was all... normal. As normal as any school might be, with warm summer sun flooding through the windows to cast it all in bright, real illumination.
Or was it real?
Another keystroke, and for just the barest instant there was a small boy, dark-haired and wearing a striped t-shirt, standing in the doorway as well. A blink later he was gone, as though he'd never been.
For a bare few moments, Shinji felt warm, welcome relief flood through him and over him. It was just another day at school. He allowed himself the smallest flicker of hope, that he would sit through class, that he would go home and that he would find a normal home life waiting for him. No Eva to pilot. No monsters to fight. He could be a normal, teenage boy again. He slowly settled into his desk, fingers flexing as he half-listened to Asuka start going on about something. He would probably get yelled at for not paying attention, but the sound of her voice was enough
( ... )
The telltale light glowed like a sullen ember as the doctor held down the button, transmitting words into the entry plug that could be heard or simply sensed, incorporated or ignored as the subject willed. Within was Shinji's reality, after all, and the external influences were only that. The irony of it all was that he'd never consciously realize just how much power he truly had, not according to the psych profile the doctor was working with.
"What defines your reality, Shinji Ikari?"
And with that the doctor drew back again, microphone clicking off with a faint hiss of static. Back to the keyboard again, to the orderly flow of codes and readouts; alter the dosage here to balance and steady, increase the oxygen flow slightly there to compensate for unexpected use, reacting to his choices. Ever his choices, his definition of what was true.
What did define his reality? That was a question he'd been asking himself since the Sea of Dirac. Since he'd arrived in Tokyo-3. Since he'd been a child. He still didn't have an answer for it. Was any of what he'd done real? Was it all just another delusion in a chain of imagined lives and twisted memories? He tried to scream again, a choked, wretching sound as blackness overtook his vision and everything spiraled away.
He came to in a train car. A perfectly ordinary train car. Evening light poured in, casting the whole compartment in a strange orange color. He clutched at his knees, trying to sort out his thoughts.
Who are you, Shinji Ikari? Has anything you've ever done actually been real? Or are you really just a sick child clinging to fantasies?
"No! I'm real! I'm... I'm me..."
He trailed off, silence filling the car again. Replaced the voice inside of his head. He tried to speak again. "I... If I don't know if my life is real... who am I?"
The train continued onward for hours, minutes, perhaps only just seconds; the light entering the windows never changed to indicate a passage of time, after all, leaving the car in a perpetual orange haze. And then the next time he blinked--
Soft afternoon sunlight. A white ceiling overhead, blank but for a fluorescent fixture in the center. The curtains around the bed were pulled only partially closed, allowing a view of the rest of the room: the nurse's office at the school. Apparently empty, still and quiet but for the tick of the clock on the wall competing with the monotonous buzz of cicadas outside the half-open window.
The drugs were taking deeper hold now, the doctor noted from outside the false plug; with the foundations now set each successive scenario should feel more real. It remained to be seen, however, if the boy chose to reject what was presented to him-- or which one that was presented to him. That could be interesting indeed.
Shinji blinked, stared at the ceiling for a few long moments. It was familiar, like a half-remembered dream. He'd been here before, he was sure of it. He slowly pushed himself up on his elbows and listened to the familiar buzz. That was a sound he'd heard all his life. One that accompanied every summer (or was it always summer). He glanced down at the tile floor, recognized the scuff marks, the little dents and scrapes built up over years of students passing through. At least he thought he recognized them. He'd always been here, he'd always attended this school, hadn't he
( ... )
The curtain pushed back with the scraping rattle of rings on rail and the nurse regarded the boy with a smile that didn't come close to being echoed in her eyes. "So you're awake," she observed, tone making it nothing more than a simple observation. "Well, there's nothing wrong with you that a little rest won't cure. I know exams are coming up, but if you wear yourself out studying you won't be around to actually take them."
She continued on without a pause, stepping forward and reaching out to touch his forehead. "One of your friends is waiting in the hallway to take you home. Go straight there, is my advice; go home and eat something and get some rest. Heaven knows you don't look you've had anything like food or sleep lately, I don't know how you children survive."
Which friend, though. Which friend would he choose, would his mind put into place in the scenario laid out before him. And... which home? "Just how do you define your own reality, Shinji Ikari?" the doctor murmured softly, stubbing out a cigarette before returning to
( ... )
Apologies; holidays ate me. ><sdatislifeDecember 27 2010, 09:11:43 UTC
Shinji blinked, rubbed at his eyes, almost sure that this would dissolve into another place, another time, more hallucinations and fevered imaginings. He'd be back in Landel's. Or back in Tokyo-3. Or somewhere, anywhere but this horrifically normal school. When the world failed to fade away into something else, he simply sat back for a moment, only half-listening to the nurse. The tone of her voice carried a command, though, and he obeyed it, almost without thinking. He stood with an absent-minded nod and shuffled toward the door. Every step that didn't end with another dissolve, another shift in reality, reinforced the idea that this was real; maybe everything else had simply been a dream, exhaustion. This was real, wasn't it
( ... )
"We should." Though he could hardly have been seen to move, the pale-haired boy was now directly next to Shinji, well within what most would consider their personal space and yet exhibiting no sign of discomfort from it. There was a hint of concern in his eyes as he studied his friend for any sign of illness; his collapse in the middle of class had been both dramatic and unexpected, but the nurse had said it was nothing.
Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him, for the boy lifted the bag he was holding -- one of a pair, the other being his own -- before nodding down the hall. "I have your things, don't worry." And there he hesitated a moment longer before his normal smile widened and warmed just a fraction, just enough that someone who knew him well would notice. Though he formed none of it into words the look said that he was pleased to see his friend so much improved. Pleased simply to see him.
"Oh. Um... t-thank you." He rubbed at the back of his neck - he'd caused a lot of trouble for people ad they were still treating him kindly. How embarrassing. He hastily reached a hand out. "H-here! I can take that!"
A bit too loud, a bit too quick, but Kaworu made him a bit nervous sometimes. Different from the others. His face flushed and he waited, arm extended. Landel's, the Eva - a fading dream. He could live in this reality where he had friends, where there was nothing to worry about but school and chores.
For several heartbeats Kaworu only studied the outstretched hand like some new and fascinating creature, then finally set the handle of the bag there, though he didn't draw back. His palm rested against Shinji's with only the handle between them, fingertips resting against the pulse point in his wrist; still without a word Kaworu watched him with an unreadable smile. And then, finally: "You shouldn't be so afraid
( ... )
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"--nji--"
The voice was female, laden with poorly-hidden strain. Misato? Possible, or a close match to hers.
"--you hear--" Static. "--Shi--"
And then nothing. No sound, no response to his hand on the controls.
In the meantime the doctor sat at the monitors, glasses reflecting the flickering colors playing out on the monitors as they displayed the experiment's status. Shinji's current status, rather. Phase 1 was building the groundwork for what was to come. For now the boy had to explore his situation and come to his own conclusions about this reality.
Reply
Again, there was no response. He reached up to try the hatch - the emergency release didn't budge. This all seemed familiar. Far too familiar. The Sea of Dirac-?
A conclusion came to him through the fog of drugs and confusion. He was still trapped in the Sea of Dirac. In a moment of blind terror and panic, he screamed.
Reply
...and then it faded, becoming nothing more than the glare of morning sun through a classroom window. Shinji stood alone now, alone within the empty classroom with no sign of the entry plug (Or was there a phantom memory of the feel of LCL against bare skin? Perhaps...) or any other people. Voices in the hallway indicated there was someone there, and more voices from outside the open window. For now, though, the room simply stood in readiness at the beginning of the day.
Reply
Died.
He stood on rubbery legs, felt and heard the scrape of his chair against the floor as it shifted. This couldn't be right. He'd just been in the entry plug. He'd been trapped, dying as the life support ran out, hallucinating, calling up images of a boy who hadn't really existed, of an institute he'd never seen or heard of before ( ... )
Reply
One finger tapped the enter key and within Shinji's world the classroom doors slid open, admitting the students who'd been lingering in the hallways and filling the room with life, voices raised in a number of conversations and friendly greetings. It was all... normal. As normal as any school might be, with warm summer sun flooding through the windows to cast it all in bright, real illumination.
Or was it real?
Another keystroke, and for just the barest instant there was a small boy, dark-haired and wearing a striped t-shirt, standing in the doorway as well. A blink later he was gone, as though he'd never been.
Reply
Reply
The telltale light glowed like a sullen ember as the doctor held down the button, transmitting words into the entry plug that could be heard or simply sensed, incorporated or ignored as the subject willed. Within was Shinji's reality, after all, and the external influences were only that. The irony of it all was that he'd never consciously realize just how much power he truly had, not according to the psych profile the doctor was working with.
"What defines your reality, Shinji Ikari?"
And with that the doctor drew back again, microphone clicking off with a faint hiss of static. Back to the keyboard again, to the orderly flow of codes and readouts; alter the dosage here to balance and steady, increase the oxygen flow slightly there to compensate for unexpected use, reacting to his choices. Ever his choices, his definition of what was true.
Reply
He came to in a train car. A perfectly ordinary train car. Evening light poured in, casting the whole compartment in a strange orange color. He clutched at his knees, trying to sort out his thoughts.
Who are you, Shinji Ikari? Has anything you've ever done actually been real? Or are you really just a sick child clinging to fantasies?
"No! I'm real! I'm... I'm me..."
He trailed off, silence filling the car again. Replaced the voice inside of his head. He tried to speak again. "I... If I don't know if my life is real... who am I?"
He didn't receive an answer.
Reply
Soft afternoon sunlight. A white ceiling overhead, blank but for a fluorescent fixture in the center. The curtains around the bed were pulled only partially closed, allowing a view of the rest of the room: the nurse's office at the school. Apparently empty, still and quiet but for the tick of the clock on the wall competing with the monotonous buzz of cicadas outside the half-open window.
The drugs were taking deeper hold now, the doctor noted from outside the false plug; with the foundations now set each successive scenario should feel more real. It remained to be seen, however, if the boy chose to reject what was presented to him-- or which one that was presented to him. That could be interesting indeed.
Reply
Reply
She continued on without a pause, stepping forward and reaching out to touch his forehead. "One of your friends is waiting in the hallway to take you home. Go straight there, is my advice; go home and eat something and get some rest. Heaven knows you don't look you've had anything like food or sleep lately, I don't know how you children survive."
Which friend, though. Which friend would he choose, would his mind put into place in the scenario laid out before him. And... which home? "Just how do you define your own reality, Shinji Ikari?" the doctor murmured softly, stubbing out a cigarette before returning to ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him, for the boy lifted the bag he was holding -- one of a pair, the other being his own -- before nodding down the hall. "I have your things, don't worry." And there he hesitated a moment longer before his normal smile widened and warmed just a fraction, just enough that someone who knew him well would notice. Though he formed none of it into words the look said that he was pleased to see his friend so much improved. Pleased simply to see him.
Reply
A bit too loud, a bit too quick, but Kaworu made him a bit nervous sometimes. Different from the others. His face flushed and he waited, arm extended. Landel's, the Eva - a fading dream. He could live in this reality where he had friends, where there was nothing to worry about but school and chores.
Reply
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