kaworu nagisa (
paraclete) wrote in
driftfleet2016-01-26 09:04 pm
Entry tags:
mk.01 (video, action)
Who: Kaworu Nagisa, and maybe you!
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: The Marsiva
When: The evening of 1/26.
[This could be strange, but it looks like the pale youth currently on camera is a leisurely waker. He shifts several times, then pulls himself into a sitting position, slowly... His eyes are closed, and he's running a hand through his hair. Finally, something strikes him. With the lightest crease between his brows, the boy starts breathing (was he not breathing before?) and opens his eyes. The irises are red and clear.]
Again, huh? [he murmurs, but his hands drag down until he's touching first his own waist, his hips, then back up to his shoulders, his arms... The action might be more provocative than he means for it to be, thanks to the space age skintight bodysuit he's wearing. He touches his neck. He frowns.]
I see. Not 'again', but still... [But Kaworu's a fan of being vague, so he'll leave it at that. Instead, he shifts in his seat so that his legs dangle over the side of the cot, and leans forward to reach for the communicator. Now, with a closer look at his face, it's clear that he's confused to the point that it causes him pain — he looks like he's got a pretty bad headache. Regardless, whether he's broadcasting to captors or captives, he wants to put on a gentler face. He exhales, and his expression smooths out considerably, though his eyes still hint at stress.]
Lilin, yes, but non-Lilin among you. This is beyond any experience I would have anticipated. It's as though there are more keys on the piano, but they play in notes I've never heard before. It could take some practice to make a song out of that. But practice is just time and effort, right? [And now he can smile. It's something soft and easy, an expression of reassurance for anyone who can see it.] It would be nice if we could practice together.
[The smile thins into something more grave. He's certain he died, and Shinji was physically fine and accounted for when that happened. Kaworu had no reason to doubt that Shinji would find guidance. Now, though, of course he's wondering about this new place and its captives: if they can harvest a dead child, would they take a living child in close proximity? With Shinji here, it could mean danger beyond what Kaworu is prepared for. But to be without Shinji here is also to be without purpose. Either way, he's got to find out.]
Excuse me, [he says,] but I've lost a friend. I imagine several of you have done the same, in being brought to this place. But, have any of you recovered them? That's what I'd like to know most of all about this situation. [The smile has come back, and it's probably for the best, since it looks so natural on his face. Once Kaworu starts smiling, it's almost hard to believe he'd ever stopped in the first place.] Thanks, [he says sincerely.]
—
[Through the corridors of the Marsiva comes a young man — a boy, with a face easily taken for youthful — and he smells very strongly of blood. His plugsuit, though still clinging to him, has been cleaned, but the scent of blood still rises thick from his hair, his skin. Anyway, he looks curious, so he must be someone new. But it's not the mysterious halls that make him wonder so much as the creatures who inhabit them.
He's walking around with both hands level with his chest, and his fingers stick out at odd angles, some raised, some lowered — it brings to mind the image of someone doing mental math, and really struggling with a problem. When he sees you, it becomes clear that you're a part of the equation. If you're a human, he ticks off one of the fingers of his right hand, like he's counting. If you're not human, he does the same with his left. He seems enthralled.]
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: The Marsiva
When: The evening of 1/26.
[This could be strange, but it looks like the pale youth currently on camera is a leisurely waker. He shifts several times, then pulls himself into a sitting position, slowly... His eyes are closed, and he's running a hand through his hair. Finally, something strikes him. With the lightest crease between his brows, the boy starts breathing (was he not breathing before?) and opens his eyes. The irises are red and clear.]
Again, huh? [he murmurs, but his hands drag down until he's touching first his own waist, his hips, then back up to his shoulders, his arms... The action might be more provocative than he means for it to be, thanks to the space age skintight bodysuit he's wearing. He touches his neck. He frowns.]
I see. Not 'again', but still... [But Kaworu's a fan of being vague, so he'll leave it at that. Instead, he shifts in his seat so that his legs dangle over the side of the cot, and leans forward to reach for the communicator. Now, with a closer look at his face, it's clear that he's confused to the point that it causes him pain — he looks like he's got a pretty bad headache. Regardless, whether he's broadcasting to captors or captives, he wants to put on a gentler face. He exhales, and his expression smooths out considerably, though his eyes still hint at stress.]
Lilin, yes, but non-Lilin among you. This is beyond any experience I would have anticipated. It's as though there are more keys on the piano, but they play in notes I've never heard before. It could take some practice to make a song out of that. But practice is just time and effort, right? [And now he can smile. It's something soft and easy, an expression of reassurance for anyone who can see it.] It would be nice if we could practice together.
[The smile thins into something more grave. He's certain he died, and Shinji was physically fine and accounted for when that happened. Kaworu had no reason to doubt that Shinji would find guidance. Now, though, of course he's wondering about this new place and its captives: if they can harvest a dead child, would they take a living child in close proximity? With Shinji here, it could mean danger beyond what Kaworu is prepared for. But to be without Shinji here is also to be without purpose. Either way, he's got to find out.]
Excuse me, [he says,] but I've lost a friend. I imagine several of you have done the same, in being brought to this place. But, have any of you recovered them? That's what I'd like to know most of all about this situation. [The smile has come back, and it's probably for the best, since it looks so natural on his face. Once Kaworu starts smiling, it's almost hard to believe he'd ever stopped in the first place.] Thanks, [he says sincerely.]
—
[Through the corridors of the Marsiva comes a young man — a boy, with a face easily taken for youthful — and he smells very strongly of blood. His plugsuit, though still clinging to him, has been cleaned, but the scent of blood still rises thick from his hair, his skin. Anyway, he looks curious, so he must be someone new. But it's not the mysterious halls that make him wonder so much as the creatures who inhabit them.
He's walking around with both hands level with his chest, and his fingers stick out at odd angles, some raised, some lowered — it brings to mind the image of someone doing mental math, and really struggling with a problem. When he sees you, it becomes clear that you're a part of the equation. If you're a human, he ticks off one of the fingers of his right hand, like he's counting. If you're not human, he does the same with his left. He seems enthralled.]

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In turn, his own expression softens more than a little at Kaworu's smile. Music obviously means a lot to him as well. ]
...Music's really good, isn't it? [ He's a lot...stiffer in how he expresses himself, but that doesn't make the words any less sincere. Each word seems to be chosen carefully. ] It's soothing...it's nice.
Do you play at all?
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I agree with you. That was a good choice of words. [Aside from being patient, he'd like to be encouraging.] I've spent a lot of time with a piano.
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Do you have any favourite genres?
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[If they hadn't been friends from that first meeting, they'd definitely be friends now. Music is Kaworu's second most favorite thing that exists. Well, maybe this just makes them double friends.]
I was mostly exposed to music from the common practice of Western classical. Baroque, Classical... Romantic, Impressionist... That's what I grew up with. I really like Beethoven, Rachmaninoff. But I haven't heard any music I've disliked. Music is an expression of the heart, so it's beautiful no matter what.
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As for tones...when a piano is placed, it reflects its treatment and environment...that's what makes them more variable. A piano depends on many things to bring out the full potential of its sound.
[ He's a nerd about instruments, is what you'll get from this conversation.
If Elecman is ever informed of this fact, he won't know what to do with himself. He has a hard enough time making friends once with people, let alone friends twice over. What is he gonna do with this knowledge... ]
Oh, you like classical? That's always a solid choice. There's plenty of history to fall back on. [ He's warming to his topic here, it's clear. ] It's always interesting to hear how different people play the same piece - even though the notes and structure remain the same, their personality will be expressed through how they choose to approach it.
Music really is an expression of people's feelings, huh...I guess I didn't really think about it until now, but it's true. [ Even as someone who would play music in a structured way, exactly as pictured, he's spent enough time around musicians to know all this. ]
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Cultivating a song is like nurturing a child... [There's a sad slant to his smile, but the effect could be lost in how he tilts his head.] A person's feelings are capable of great beauty. Lilin has made art inspired by the depth of the heart and its expanse for thousands of years. Lilin evolves, and its means of conveying itself evolves. So, music was born.
[He closes his eyes, drops his shoulders, and sighs, seemingly content with just that thought: music was born. It's the most profound thing any man has managed to accomplish.
But regardless of how pleasant this conversation is, Kaworu must also be mindful of his new surroundings. He opens his eyes again.]
You said I would fit in—? What did you mean by that?
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There's humans with special skills - and many people who aren't human at all. Some of them pretty obviously so. [ Exhibit A: him. ] Like I said, you'll fit in fine.
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[The open gladness from before dissipates a little; it's like he's undergoing evaporation. What's left on his face is dry and smooth, a stone baking in the sun. Now, he isn't lively.]
What sorts of lifeforms are there? Before, creatures like me were Lilin's only alien adversary.
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They're not adversarial to humans, I don't think. Some of them are aliens, but they seem to get along well with humans. I keep seeing someone who's blue and has pointy ears around. And there's someone who's humanoid, but she's more catlike than anything.
And then there's artificial intelligences - like me. Though I haven't seen the other one I know around in a while.
[ He bites back on the question 'if you're an alien adversary, how come you admire humans so much?' because he feels like that's a whole other can of worms. ] Your relationship with the humans in your world was antagonistic, then?
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[Another can of worms, indeed. Kaworu's already saying more than what he's used to, simply because nobody has ever asked.]
Lilin hate Angels. They fight.
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Yeah. Man-made and partnered with a human being. We get along well. [ He gets along with that one person very well, and everyone else gets the well known 'take it or leave it until i know you' attitude.
Not the best conversationalist, this guy.
He should be more cautious, maybe, considering what he knows of aliens in his own world, but - someone who likes music and humans this much probably doesn't want to nuke the world out of apparent superiority, so he's pretty sure he's safe on that front. He'll take the rest as it comes. It's not like he's some goody-two-shoes himself anyway. ]
Sounds like humans. They fight with each other, too, so. [ His voice is a little tight, like he's remembering something unpleasant. That is likely to be the case. ] Do they all look like you? Angels, I mean.
[ His voice is curious, not judgemental. After all, netnavis have no limits on what they can look like. He's not going to judge on appearances - but he knows humans often do. ]
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[So he knows some real talk about the violent nature of man, yeah, but he's still head over heels for them.]
I am an Angel in Lilin's body. I was the only child born from my mother to look this way. The other children were much greater and grander. They are large creatures, fantastic creatures. They frighten human beings, who call them monsters. Well, every Angel is a monster to be feared and hated, in the eyes of man.
[But Kaworu can't stop thinking about Elecman being man-made. Not only is it an uncomfortable reminder of childhood, it now presents a concept Kaworu deeply hopes is untrue.]
Your maker, then, imbued you with a soul?
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He's content with what he has, his small existence. ]
Sounds like you had some interesting siblings. [ It's...an unorthodox response. He doesn't seem to care that much...? ] I guess if we all looked the same, though, it'd be kind of boring. But I guess it's not a surprise that humans get scared by big creatures. There's a whole genre of movies about that.
[ Is now the time to be talking about kaiju movies... ]
A soul... [ He sounds thoughtful. This is more something one of his teammates would have thought about, not him. But he thinks he can answer. ]
I've never thought about that very much. But - yeah, we have them, I'm pretty sure. [ Upon a netnavi's death, something remains, after all. Something that was innately part of them, and can't be perfectly brought back.
(He, too, had been a little stranger when he returned.) ] Is that important for you?
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But there were always bigger plans at hand. Humans waging war was always what overtook the planet.]
I think they were interesting, too. I would have liked to know them better.
[—And the topic of a soul must be important for Kaworu, for how he brightens, shoulders drawn up, red eyes alight underneath a raised and pale brow.] It's important. A soul is the essence of everything. I'm happy to know someone who has his own essence, his own self. [Frankly, he's relieved.]
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[ Huh. That's interesting, but he doesn't comment on his sudden change. ] Sounds like you've met people who weren't so lucky to have that.
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An individual without a soul is just an imitation of life. It's a misfortune I've encountered before.
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He is, in some ways, a sibling himself, after all. ]
Huh. Soulless people are common where you come from, then? Or was it just the one thing. [ Boy, he's asking a lot of questions. ]
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[And, yeah, he's a little soul-racist.]
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Must get crowded, if there's a shortage like that. [ He raises his eyebrows underneath his helmet. Normal people can't really tell the state of the soul, after all, so this guy must have some kind of sensitivity.
The next question does come out kind of weird, though. ] Are you allergic to them, or something?
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In reality, there's currently a shortage of Lilin. But they try their best to survive.
[He says this with fondness, but the question mark resulting from Elecman's question is pretty visible in his eyes. A little uncertain, he decides on, ] I have no allergies.
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Guess I should have phrased that better. Normally people can't really sense whether others have souls or not, so I was wondering if you were extra sensitive to them or something.
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