Chocolate-flavored Dessert Cream on the House

[thespaceopera]

[The bunks are filling up, but the new faces just keep appearing!

Are you a travel-weary passenger having trouble keeping your crew roster straight? Perhaps you are a fresh new recruit, finding themselves dumped into a new (and much less shiny) home. Or, maybe you've been around for a little bit and just haven't bothered meeting the other weirdos on this ship yet--what is their problem, anyway?

Well, this is the place for you!

All new passengers from the last few Shuffles, especially those who haven't met their crews yet, are welcome to post starter-comments here to invite those living on and visiting your ship to come and interact. Newbies could be just arriving on the ship, busying around where others can find them, or you can offering multiple options for interaction--however you'd like to set up your thread is fine. Just make sure to include the name of your ship in the header, so your crewmates can easily find you!

Everyone else-- go meet those newbies! Whether they are new to your own crew, or on ships you frequently visit, now is a great time to bump into them.]

Comments

[astrobleme]

[The ship they're standing in isn't exactly a big place. Shinji can't hide himself away for very long... but he's such a mess that he's going to try. Now that he's more aware of himself, he's more aware of his humiliating behaviors. Crying like that, getting sick like that...

Kaworu deserves a better friend than a basket case like him.

Shinji decides not to reply, not yet, if only so he can continue washing his face. And his hands. And then his face, again. He's rinsing out his mouth and struggling not to sob in between watery mouthfuls. He swears he can still taste the digested remnants of kiwi paste. He swears. His small, frightened noises seem so loud within the confines of a bathroom.]

[paraclete]

[Some time passes, and then too much time. Shinji is definitely here — Kaworu can feel the special presence of his soul, a relief that keeps him going — but something must be wrong, for him not to respond. Is he hurt? Is he scared? Is he angry? Kaworu texts again: ]

Shinji-kun?

[And then, through his own fear, again, and again.]

Shinji-kun?
Ikari Shinji-kun?
Ikari Shinji-kun?
Ikari Shinji-kun?

[He's sending the texts with his mind, not even bothering to use the communicator's keys, because there's no time when anything could be happening to Shinji. And it's not enough to stand around listlessly. He'll use the feeling of that soul like a tether, and find Shinji on the ship. So he's wandering, tracing a spiritual line, and passing every other crew member with absolute disinterest — Excuse me - looking for my friend — while he calls out.]

Ikari Shinji-kun? Ikari Shinji-kun...

[Finally, the pull of Shinji's soul is stronger. Finally, he can hear— ]

Ikari Shinji-kun?

[He's just outside the door. He would sound breathless with concern, if he actually had to breathe.]

[astrobleme]

[Shinji can't leave the water running forever. That would be too irresponsible for him, even though it disguises the childish sounds he's making. Awfully, wonderfully, Kaworu's voice is right there; the water can't conceal that heavenly timbre or atmosphere. So, turning off the faucet, Shinji pivots to stare down the door. There isn't all that much keeping them apart. He was in a blind panic when they were separated, but now he's refusing to be seen. That doesn't make sense. Just doesn't make any sense at all.]

Kaworu-kun... [The words are rough, ragged, burnt through with acid:] You didn't... coming all this way, you didn't have to. [His modesty amounts to a mouthful of lies. He lays one bare hand on the door, almost expecting to feel Kaworu's presence through it.]

[paraclete]

[It's Shinji's voice. It's Shinji's beautiful, unmistakable voice coming from behind that door. Of course it is; it couldn't be anyone else, with the feel of Shinji's soul radiating out. But Kaworu has learned that Shinji's responses might be considered a luxury, with the state that he's been in. So, the relief Kaworu feels is great enough that, unseen, he sags. His eyes shut, and he exhales deeply. Shinji is self-conscious enough to be demure...]

It wasn't any trouble. [He eases his voices into a consolation, indulgent.] I said that you wouldn't be without me. I was happy to come find you. [And, carefully,] How do you feel?

[astrobleme]

I don't know.

[Shinji has asked several people how he's supposed to feel, but no one has given him a satisfactory answer. He's feeling way too many things to keep track of, but he's too tired to be overwhelmed. He just is. Existent. For some reason, he still exists. At first, arriving on the Heron, there might have been anger. Fear of the unknown. Obvious self-loathing. Now it's hard to tell where one emotion ends and the next begins.

Kaworu's voice isn't so much a balm for his nerves as it is something easily understood.]

My stomach hurts, I guess...

[He leans his forehead against the door. All of the closeness, but none of the confrontation.]

I got sick out in the hall. I didn't mean to, but I did.

[paraclete]

The mind and the body can blend. You've had a hard time. I understand what your heart is projecting. [It's a secret, but Kaworu's experienced psychosomatic nausea before, himself. Even during his demotion to Thirteenth Angel, he felt bile that reminded him of Matarael from another life. It hurt his throat. Inside, he churned.

Right now he's grateful for the experience. He wants the ability to sympathize with every feeling Shinji has. It's all vital.]

Is there anything that I can do for you? For your stomach? There's a medical bay...

[astrobleme]

[Shinji doesn't seem interested in Kaworu's questions. He's quiet for long enough to be worrisome. Then, dejected, he says,] I-It reminded me of when I woke up. [Not around here. The distance in his voice is too great.] Aboard the Wunder, I mean. When I... woke up, and I didn't know what was going on. I think that's why I got sick. I didn't mean to, but...

[He sounds like he's getting--lower? Oh, he's sinking down to his knees, just like he did when they met on the Marsiva. A tiny, cramped bathroom really isn't the best place to have another crisis.]

I bet the crew hates me.

[He has no evidence of that, none whatsoever, but he's saying it anyway. Everyone back home hated him for good reason, except for Kaworu (and maybe Asuka, he's learned). He doesn't know why it would be any different here. His every last molecule is hateful, deserving anguish and spite.]

[paraclete]

[Just the notion of the crew hating Shinji makes Kaworu feel fiercely protective. Shinji's had more than enough of that — enough for a lifetime, for lifetimes, for a moon's worth of time. (Countless.) Kaworu frowns, settling his own gloved hand against the door.] They won't hurt you. [Another big promise, but Kaworu won't let them. And, softer: ] They have no reason to hate you. [It's clear to Kaworu, anyway, that the real hatred here is from Shinji, towards Shinji. That's exactly what Kaworu wants to avoid.

And of course he can't help but worry, when what he hears is nothing, and then barely anything. Shinji sounds small and fraught, too close to slipping into a catastrophe of the heart. Kaworu wants deeply to cradle him... He tries to do so with his voice.] You haven't done anything wrong by being afraid. [He's using those honey tones, golden and slow. But he pauses a moment before asking,] Shinji-kun, may I please see you?

[astrobleme]

[Huddled against the door, his knees glued to his chest, Shinji clasps his hands together to stop them from trembling. These hands, a pilot's hands, were supposed to change the world for the better. They were supposed to do that. They have no reason to hate you, but the crew might find out what he did or what he could do to them. Unprovoked, even against his will, he could ruin everything for them. He has so much blood on his hands already. He scrubbed as hard as he could, but it wouldn't come off. His cuticles are raw and picked apart.]

But then you'll get to see how gross I am, [he replies, speaking more to his knees than to Kaworu.] And if you see that, I don't know what I'll do. [But his self-loathing can't hold out against the breadth of his loneliness.

Seconds later, there's a meaningful click of the door being unlocked. Sort of weird. Shinji doesn't remember reaching for the latch, but that doesn't really matter. The door opens to reveal the belittled, fearful bundle he's made of himself. No unsightly green splatters, at least. He looks up at Kaworu through a cold, still-dripping fringe of hair.]

[paraclete]

[Like this, Shinji is properly observable, which feels a little better for Kaworu. There's still that messy feeling in his insides, though, that comes with seeing Shinji reduced to this. Kaworu examines him, but doesn't allow himself the pleasure of sighing. Moments pass, and he can't relax. This is a state of emergency for the heart. It desperately needs a remedy, but any chance Kaworu had at being amazing died with him. He's supposed to know what to say, and what to do. He's supposed to know everything. He never knew anything at all.

It borders on sinful to place himself higher than Shinji, so Kaworu kneels until they’re level. Like before, like on the Marsiva, he reaches out and takes Shinji’s face in his hands. It would be a stern gesture if not for his gentle touch. But it's clear that he's being dead serious, with a strength in his face that opposes his usual smiles.]

I will never see you as anything less than my closest friend. [He's looking right into Shinji's eyes as he says this, only inches away. There's something uncompromising about him right now — he refuses to let Shinji succumb to self-loathing. But he draws back a little, softening his intensity, features smoothing out. ] It's fine if you don't want to see me. But I'm concerned for you. I want to help you. That's what a friendship is, right?

[astrobleme]

[Shinji can't say for sure what friendship is, but he's well aware of what it is isn't: an act of negligent homicide. He's never going to get over the sensation of Kaworu's hands, solid and unmistakable, in contact with him. Aside from their cool quality, there's nothing to indicate his best friend is supernatural. Shinji hasn't explored the whole Angel revelation, and he doesn't know if he'll get around to it. There are some things that stopped mattering when Kaworu died. Kaworu could be a bloodsucking vampire and Shinji would still--]

I think-- [He cringes around the taste of stomach acid.] I think I want to find some... somewhere to lie down. [Not the bathroom floor. Even with a plugsuit, the idea of that is completely unacceptable.] That's how you can help me. That's all I need right now. [Other than what they've set in stone, of course. It's a promise he won't breathe again for how sacred it is.

He has been awful about taking advantage of Kaworu's kindness. He's doing it now, too, when he tilts his head against Kaworu's palm. It isn't as if he can hate himself more for this.] Hey, which ship were you assigned to...? [Probably useful information to have. He assumes that Kaworu will leave him after enough time, indebted to another faceless crew. There are so many people around here--not only on the ship, but on the network, and stuff. Kaworu is certain to meet people leagues better than Shinji could ever be.]