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.]

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[interstices]

[Asuka knows Shinji doesn't really exactly mean it the way it sounds, but she winces anyway as she decides to try to relax, unbending her knees. This kind of attention should be reserved for little kids, not adolescent crushes. Asuka hasn't got a mothering bone in the questionable remnants of her skeleton, but the scene looks just about as chaste right now as parents tucking a child into bed.]

[Nagisa, on the other hand, wants her here about as much as Asuka wants him here. He thinks this private time ought to be reserved for him and Shinji alone; so does she, and there's no point in pretending otherwise, not even while Shinji's still conscious.]

With who? There's nobody else from home in the entire fleet. [It's a deliberately obtuse answer. Asuka knows he means he's tempting fate, or that they're all involved in some accident of time, something along those lines. Catching the way Kaworu's looked away, she takes the opportunity to pat Shinji on the knee, once, twice, the movement, inevitably, more akin to tapping a dog on the nose with a newspaper than anything else, despite her efforts.] Don't make yourself feel guilty over something good. Defeatist.

[paraclete]

She's right. [Like before, it doesn't feel very good to concede to that, but Kaworu has to admonish himself for that. He can't be this selfish; it's okay if someone else gives Shinji that vital peace and comfort. It's really is all right.

His fingers are still curled. He hates himself for wanting to reach out. He hates himself for not reaching out. And he turns his face, looking now at the space between his hand and Shinji's. Envy is such an ugly feeling. But... If it's a feeling Shinji gives him, it's valuable...]

Nobody here is requiring you to feel guilty for anything, [he continues, still staring down at those inches of blanket.] For now, just rest and recover. It's all right to take time. It's all right to need help and company. [Kaworu glances at Asuka, but it doesn't last more than two seconds before he's facing forward. For all that ugliness inside of him, he has to appreciate her. Just because he's inept doesn't mean that she has to be.] That's what we're here for.

[astrobleme]

But I don't understand... why we're here... [Shinji remembers the red sand, but maybe that was all that was left behind by Fourth Impact.] Why it's just the three of us, and no one else... [Maybe he did destroy the whole godforsaken world. Maybe Atroma decided to rescue a few of the survivors (and Kaworu?) because they had no hope of carrying on otherwise... (Shinji's tower of conspiracy theories is threatening to crumble under the weight of it all.)]

Don't you want to know? Even if... not supposed to... [The last time he was allowed to find out the truth, it was too much for him. A tiny, exhausted tear escapes from his eye, then, and he lifts a free hand to wipe it away--or he tries to, at least. He can't move very far, as heavy as he is, and with that much movement, he destabilizes the rest of him. He's soon woozily tilting to the side, sliding along the wall...

He slumps against Kaworu. It isn't so bad a perch, even though it's a little awkward, with his arm pinned and his cheek resting on Kaworu's shoulder.] M'sorry, [he says automatically, unable or unwilling to move away.]

[interstices]

[Asuka's face falls slightly when Shinji leans against Kaworu. Another lost point. As long as Kaworu's next to him, she'll be lucky if she gets Shinji to touch her on the hand. She'll really be pissed off if his next move's going to be falling to pieces in Kaworu's arms the way he'd done earlier. Asuka settles for looking up at the ceiling for a few frustrated seconds before answering.]

Not really. [It's a lie. Asuka's interested, but Asuka's also aware that she's never gotten hold of any real, pertinent answers her whole life. She's almost through expecting any, particularly out of their current captors.] What, is there anyone else you want here?

[Her latest attempt at upping the ante hasn't profited her any, but she yanks the covers up anyway and burrows up to her waist underneath them as she makes an odd admittance.] I'd rather be here than at WILLE right now.

[paraclete]

[Of course, Kaworu's really good at keeping his composure. Of course. He's at least self-aware enough to know that if that weren't true, he'd have melted already. Then again, anything Shinji does can reduce him to that...

It reminds him of the night they spent lying underneath the stars. Shinji told him about Andromeda, about the Summer Triangle. They could see the Milky Way. They were there together for hours; they watched the sky darken, and then lighten again. When the morning mists rolled in, Shinji was bleary. He rubbed his eyes. Kaworu walked him back to his room, and their strides were close together, and their shoulders bumped. They bumped once, and then twice, and after that, they just stayed together. They walked as slowly as the sun came up, and the mellow light crept after them, until they were inside and Kaworu said, Just get some rest for now. The door slid shut and the night was over.

The night is here now, whatever time it may be. The night, to Kaworu, is found in closeness, in intimacy. This is intimate — Shinji's slow breaths, his warm weight. His cheek is soft against the jut of Kaworu's shoulder. In this moment, Kaworu hates his bones and their sharpness; he wants to provide Shinji with only gentle things. If the point of his shoulder were to make Shinji uncomfortable, Kaworu might as well get rid of the entire arm.

Shikinami is like the edge of a shoulder, too. She's like bone. A saw can cut through bone, at least. But, for Shinji's sake, Kaworu hopes that she files down her corners. He'd prefer not to have to amputate anything here. She's choosing Shinji over WILLE. It's exactly the decision Kaworu wants to hear. Still, he thinks, Why couldn't you choose that sooner?

Instead of asking a question that would only spark disaster, he says,] This might be the best place for all of us. It's not a bad thing to accept a situation that could benefit you. [Could be overly optimistic, but that's how Kaworu has to be. If he doesn't believe in a good outcome, it would have been clear to him a long time ago that he hasn't got a chance. Anyway, Kaworu's gotten used to not knowing what's going on. That doesn't mean it's a good feeling, but...]

Sometimes it's just destiny, Shinji-kun.

[astrobleme]

[Beneath the blankets, Shinji is still wearing his ignoble purple plugsuit. He stripped off the gloves, but that's all; he insists on clinging to the only familiar things left to him. Probably not the most hygienic choice. It's no less warm and soft under here, as promised.] Anyone else... [He can't answer that question. It hurts, like a knife in his chest, to think of red eyes and short blue hair and a slight, slight smile. If Atroma can revive Kaworu, then surely...] I don't know. I don't trust... the people who brought us here...

[But he's immensely thankful for their help. He turns his head slightly, nuzzling into Kaworu's shoulder. It looks like Kaworu. Feels like Kaworu. Smells like Kaworu, even. Despite Shinji's deep paranoia, Kaworu really has been brought back from the dead. Asuka, too, has the same composition that Shinji remembers. The only difference is the eyepatch she's wearing. He has himself to blame for that.]

Seems less like destiny, more like... making a profit off of us... [Honestly, where are his royalties and whatever, if he's being watched by an audience? This must be a lawless operation. Imprisonment against their will. But,] I guess I'm okay with that, [he concedes, closing his eyes.] It doesn't feel like an ending to me.

[interstices]

[Asuka fumes inwardly. Yanking Shinji away from Nagisa would cause a scene and drive a wedge in-- she's not fourteen now, no matter how she looks. She can't be like that anymore. But she wants, really wants, to smack Nagisa square in the face for the grave sin of deigning to exist again in Shinji's presence. Let the dead bury the dead. The Angel's only going to tug Shinji backward into dependence. He can't help Shinji the way she can.]

It isn't any different from before, then. [NERV's stipends had been minuscule compensation for their Eva piloting. WILLE's had been even worse. For both, more of Asuka's worth had eventually ended up embedded in her flesh and blood rather than in her piloting abilities. Sourly, she yanks the covers to her throat, but she doesn't try to reach out to touch Shinji again. She's braver than Nagisa; she's sure of it. She's not afraid to lie down next to him.] Just wrapped differently.