[ closed ]

[wille]

CHARACTERS: Misato, Kaji
WHERE: The Red Coast
WHEN: late, late DAY :037
SUMMARY: what is truth, who are you, who is me, what are we
WARNINGS: n/a wow

[ The Garstall meat sits heavy in her stomach and the air still reeks of blood and butchery and salt. That is, dread measures a ton when swallowed whole, the same as guilt no matter how she wants to dice it, and it is hard to breathe after seeing the totality of the weight placed on the consequences of her actions. Yes, hers, her own. It was her idea to nudge the pieces that led to the end of the Carpathans' plan of escape, the same as it was her advice to Keya to approach each of the factions to present her offer, and she would seek no one else to blame besides. The pride that leads her to claim all the glory is the same that leads her to claim the entire culpability.

Her appetite knows no bounds. Who but him knows this better.

The moment the door closes behind Casiria, Misato stalks out of the corner she was hiding in for lack of a hood, and zeroes in toward him. He must understand, how from the moment she beheld her power, she was already afraid of losing it, and now that she has caught a glimpse of his, she will not lose it. It is with a grip on his arm that she tries to assert her hold, and with her other hand she pushes his disguise away from his face.

This is as much an accusation, a handing down of judgment, as it is a demand for him to recount his defense. ]

The symbiote told you? Ryohji.

[ As with many things that pertain them, this lacks requisite fanfare. All of it reeks of bathos. ]

Comments

[ryohji]

We can both make it out. [ this proclamation is calm, centered, but how quiet it's spoken calls to something unsure. unsure for - who, exactly? ] There's no shame accepting the things resistant to change. We don't want to waste our effort attempting the impossible. What works and what doesn't... there's better use for our time.

[ we, we, we. what's perhaps worst of all, kaji doesn't even realize he's collapsing them in this way, assuming erroneously her goals align with his. ] It's a useful thing, isn't it? There's going to be those who'd want to use it. That's the hard part.

[wille]

[ Each tiny shift in the trajectory of her aim amounts to miles of difference when extended into the far distance, and she's as confused as ever. When one's tool becomes the enemy, or oneself is the opponent that must be subdued, how then does she organize her forces, for and against whom? ]

I'd want to use it. You know that. Knowing what we want is already a feat, don't you think? [ The loose thread of her fears hangs onto the downward curl of her lips, just a little tug would unravel it, only she won't be the one to say it. There's no gentleness in her grip around his hand. ] But I don't know what getting out of here even looks like.

[ryohji]

That’s the easy part.

[ he flexes into her palm, loosening her grip and, although he could ask her to let off or go, seems disinclined. the pressure she applies tells him it’s not for his sake, suggests who the show of insistency is really made to allay. ]

If they brought us here, they can take us back. Maybe when they’ve decided who else to use from our world, it’s as simple as going along for the ride.

[ the station has been toying with different timelines as if beholden to the imagination of a particularly unhinged metaphysicist. could they choose where and when to return to, like picking a meal off a menu? would he choose something tried but true, or dare to attempt previously unexplored territory? how far back or forward could they take him? how much would change? ]

Don’t tell me I’m the first one to come up with that. [ more terrifying, don’t tell me you’ve never thought about that before, and of course it’s the more terrifying he means. ]

[wille]

[ Misato's thoughts flit across her face as she processes the idea in real time, the wide-eyed surprise followed by grim consternation before it gradually gives way to the softer edges of optimism, which she had believed lost for good along with Shinji's consciousness. It was Prince who warned her about time, about spending it well, about making a life and finding a home, so harmlessly leading herself to forget the option of deserting the entire endeavor. ]

I've started thinking it's impossible.

[ To think she believed anything impossible should be an impossibility in itself. She even allows the makings of a smile, her grip moving up to his wrist, equally firm but less insistent, because she doesn't need it to be. ]

When will you go back to, Ryohji-kun?

[ Don't think she doesn't remember what he said, about back when she was cute. ]

[ryohji]

[ he's known her as someone who chooses to advance a plan because, and not in spite of, any appeal to impossibility. caving to the voice that croons zero point zero zero zero zero..., no, it sounds impossible, but what does he know - truth is always stranger than fiction: ] Is that the truth?

[ that's a joke. it's not one he's proud to make, given the bout of nausea reanimated that the mere mention, however indirect, of his symbiote ability. this seemingly simple, straightforward idea she acts as if it were beyond even her imagination. her reply is that of his mother egging him on as he brandished his playground shovel and insisted on digging all the way down to the center of the earth. humoring him. and because now's neither the time and place for convincing, he will humor her back: ] Maybe I'd go back before I was born. I've always wanted to see Akina Nakamori live.

[ nevermind; it's neither the time or place for physical intimacy. they have company. kaji shrugs her off, affecting a convincing smoker's cough though he can't remember the last time he'd had a smoke. ] How about you?

[wille]

You just want to see her performing Tattoo.

[ Delivered with a benign punch against his stomach and a pout to accompany the feigned jealousy. This is becoming easier, easier still. Jokes are superficial by nature, even when they hint at deeper truths. The key is to never puncture the surface, never to interrogate anyone's reasoning for a time before their existence or asking what he meant by questioning her truthfulness, and so, she lets his first joke slide and turns an equally blind eye to any sense of nausea in the space between them.

Likewise, she turns her face away from him, toward another group of hosts to the side. ]

I'd go back to Antarctica, when my father took me on a walk to see penguins. For a bit there, I thought I could forgive him.

[ Quick, before he could interrogate that either, she takes one step back even as she holds him again with her gaze. ]

Once we're back at the station, we'll make them show us how they brought us here. It'll be a start.