[open]

[redheadcarrier]

CHARACTERS: Asuka Langley Soryu and you.
WHERE: The Station
WHEN: Day: 048
SUMMARY: Asuka hasn't had a good time emotionally; she tries to distract herself by overworking.
WARNINGS: Potential mention of suicide, suicidal ideation, death.

[ Her conversations with Misato didn't go anywhere. Or at least they didn't go anywhere that would help Asuka resolve the teeming mass of uncomfortable hollowness that permeates her. Every last bit of her old self-worth feels as if it's been ground out of her, squeezed by her death, by Third Impact, and now by Misato, until she's been left flailing and trying to grasp onto something - anything - that will let her keep her head above water. She has a new purpose now, so at least there's that. There are new people around her. Some of them are even decent, but she tries not to let on that she likes some of them.

Of course, with Adra and Lavellan, it's almost impossible for her to keep that way. They're a constant presence at the back of her mind. Warm light and a familiar feeling of frustration and loss, respectively. The feelings she associates with them now and the emotions that creep in when she tries to pay attention to their buzzing, humming presence. She's adapted, too. She's found that she can tune out the voices if she wants, but that simply letting them fade into the background of her head is almost easier.

Asuka's not sure how she feels about that.

There's nothing for her to do yet and she feels antsy and on edge and if she sits too long, her mind is going to start crawling down into dark places and it'll take her with it. So she moves. She decides to train, because she's here to fight a war and if she has to fight, she's going to be ready. They have a gym and she's using it now, going through a routine. Running, acrobatics, exercises, and a barrage of punches and kicks that are aimed at the punching bag there. Her form is a bit sloppy, but there's real muscle memory to it - like a fighter who coming back after an injury. It's also a bit strange to see a five-foot nothing teenager going after said punching bag with the viciousness of a cornered animal, teeth gritted, breath hissing between her teeth, anger and frustration rolling out of her with every blow until she leaves herself panting and out of breath, still glaring at the punching bag as if it somehow personally offended her.

She spits out a few choice curse-words in German, but she welcomes the feeling of physical exhaustion that washes over her and radiates out through the hive link. Better than the alternative. ]

[OOC: Will potentially ad more prompts later; if you'd like to hit her somewhere else, just wildcard it. ]

Comments

[redheadcarrier]

[ No. No. No. Asuka doesn't want this. She doesn't want normal. She doesn't want Misato to stroll in here like everything is fine between them, like this is just another NERV excursion. She doesn't have the right to do that. Asuka is all simmering tension and anger for a moment. She breathes out, nostrils flaring as she follows Misato. She's stalking, hands clenched into fists at her sides.

Why is she following? ]

You don't have to smile, you know. I know you're pretending.

[ Cut the crap, Misato.

She still sits down and then, after a moment, stretches herself out, chin resting on her forearms. ]

If you don't care, don't pretend that you do. What do you want this time?

[wille]

[ Even stars implode. No one, no one can burn so bright for so long without any cost to oneself. Isn't it funny how the advice one gives almost always coincides with advice oneself should take?

Misato's smile does give way to an expression of restrained affect, trading one mask for another. But the girl obeys, which is more than she can ask for, she knows. Her movement is gentle but firm when she shifts closer to press her fingers against Asuka's muscle to scope out the work before her. She gives no warning before beginning to roll the foam-like material against the back of her thigh, angled just so, slow enough to stop anytime should the girl protest. It could be painful, depending on how much she has strained herself. ]

Tell me if it's too much.

[redheadcarrier]

[ Asuka makes a noise when the roller starts to dig into the muscle. It's strain, but it's not super painful. It's the sort of pain you get when you stretch or the feeling of pressure that you know will bring relief when it's finally done. She keeps her eyes straight ahead, trying to figure out what Misato is trying to do - what does she want? ]

It's fine. I'm not that bad.

[ She makes another little grunting noise as the roller settles on a particularly tight band of muscle. ]

Since when are you a physical therapist, anyway?

[wille]

[ She becomes whatever she needs to be five minutes before the moment of truth, a champion of improvisation, a trait she takes some pride in. Jack of all trades, master of none. Ritsuko would impart her disapproval with that specific look and a quiet sip of her coffee, and Misato would readily wither. Ritsuko must be dead. 

She lifts the tube to keep herself from taking out her sentiments on the girl, passing it as just her changing her position. She hums, both an agreement and a disagreement. ]

It's easier to do this on each other than on your own.

[redheadcarrier]

Well, yeah, but that doesn't explain why you're doing it for me.

[ Come on, Misato. Give Asuka a little more credit than that. She's perceptive. She knows that there's nothing there. What is this? An attempt at self redemption? ]

[wille]

[ Asuka is exhausting and Misato is exhausted. What if it all comes down to that? The girl asks, demands, needs so much whereas she has so little to spare. The truth is, she isn't attempting to seek forgiveness, because that matters little to her. She isn't seeking friendship, because she doesn't care for it. Maybe all this is just nostalgia.

She can't tell Asuka what she herself doesn't know. ]

What do you want me to say? That I'd do the same for a stranger? Maybe.

[redheadcarrier]

[ Exhausted? That makes two of them. In a way, Asuka's tired of being suspicious and pushing everything and everyone away. But that's how she survives. It's how she keeps moving. But you can only run on anger for so long before you gutter and burn out.

It'd be easy to just try and act like everything is normal. Asuka's not sure she wants to do that with Misato, though. Doesn't that mean Katsuragi wins? ]

I don't know what I want from you.

[ It's a tiny admission that she's just as confused as Misato. She stretches her leg out with a little grunt. ]

I just want to know what you want.

[ Because Asuka doesn't know that yet. She doesn't understand it. Can't understand it; it's what she chose when she became her again. ]

[wille]

[ Her constant rustling, foam against fabric, punctuates her silence, but she's quick to end it to ensure Asuka won't mistake it for hesitation. Misato can sound so sure of herself even when she's not: ]

Well, you can stop guessing. What I want is to bring our world back.

[ Hell or high water, as they say. Somehow fitting, isn't it, considering the indescribable year following Second Impact. This time will be so much worse, she knows, but surviving will be worth it. It has to be. ]

[redheadcarrier]

Count me out.

[ Asuka voice is small and tinged with bitterness. Their world never gave her anything but pain. She may have chosen to live as herself again. That doesn't mean she wants things to go back to the way they were or bend over backward to make things "whole" again. ]

[wille]

[ The task done, she sets the foam aside and stands up, dusting her hands out of habit than anything else. ]

That won't change the fact that you were part of that world.

[ There's never an easy way to disentangle oneself from the past, each limb hacked off in pursuit of freedom will still ache in the years ahead. The phantom pain will remain. The sooner Asuka accepts that, the better. ]

[redheadcarrier]

I was part of it.

[ Asuka sits up, rolling a shoulder. She doesn't like this conversation. There's too much being implied. Misato wants to go on some stupid crusade to "fix" things, but Asuka knows that there's no fixing what's happened. Humanity has to choose for itself. ]

I'm not going back. There's nothing there.

[wille]

[ It's not about finding something there. Not about an undue attachment to the idea of a planet as a home, nor any ties to anyone living still. This is a promise to the dead, both an absolution for her father, long vilified for his martyrdom, and Kaji. The completion of both their works. It doesn't matter to her that there will be nothing to be found on Earth, for her.

She doesn't think she can make Asuka understand that, let alone care. ]

Do you want to work on your kicks?

[redheadcarrier]

[ She can't make Asuka understand, she's right. She's not trying to find redemption for her mother or her father; she's trying to be her. Asuka is trying to declare to the world that she exists and that she deserves to exist, but it is only through the attention and praise of others that she can even convince herself of that. The world is ultimately meaningless when it comes to that. She doesn't consider herself as having failed the world. No, the world failed her. Misato failed her. Shinji failed her.

Her own failure is bad enough, but she can temper that with the knowledge that in the end she did all that she could. She made her stand. It was Shinji who failed to prevent Third Impact.

The tragedy is that she thinks Misato understands her all too well and simply doesn't care.

She slowly clambers to her feet, stretching out her limbs. She feels looser. Less tight. And still confused about Misato. There's a wariness to her mind, a slow glance that seems to ask why. ]

Sure. I'm still relearning everything.

[ She "learned" it as the Eva. Now she has to learn it as a human being. ]

What about firearms? You knew how to use that gun you carried, right?

[wille]

[ The age-old problem. A man is an island unto oneself. But at least for today, this moment, their quills aren't piercing each other's wounds and Misato allows herself to relax and assure herself that they have found the right distance to keep from hurting each other. For now, a truce. ]

Don't I know how to use it.

[ The two of them are similar in many ways, including this, pride borne of achievements. Like Asuka, she knows her worth and capabilities and would take every chance to show it off. But praise for Misato is mere amusement, not a lifeline. 

Already she begins on her way, turning over her shoulder and gesturing for the girl to follow. ]

Let's go over to utilities and pick out something to practice with.

[redheadcarrier]

[ Asuka resents this still. This feeling of normalcy. It's like she's letting Misato off of the hook, but what else is she going to do? Misato seems immune to her barbs, every last one of them deflected with a wall of apathy. So she settles for it and lets her grudge and venom deepen. She'll hold onto it. At least for now. ]

Sounds fine.

[ It's going to be a bit strange. But maybe she can channel that anger into something else. ]

I need to be able to do everything I used to do in my Eva.

[ Which means being able to fight and kill. ]

[wille]

[ The first word that comes to her mind is fixierung.

It's clear for anyone to see: Asuka's worth is tied to her piloting prowess and without it she is nothing, which isn't exactly false. So, here, stripped of her opportunity to pilot a weapon of mass destruction, she would try to reclaim her worth by doing everything she used to do in her Eva. An impossible goal driven by a senseless reasoning. They say madness is doing the same thing over and over and over again, and expecting it all to somehow turn out differently. Well, she can't say she's immune to it either. What smidgen of sympathy she begins to feel for the girl doesn't show on her face, and she doesn't water it, doesn't grow it. Neglect is also a choice.

Misato nods, and continues on her way. ]