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(no subject)

Who: Zhas
Broadcast: Video
Action: N/A
When: Nebulous now-time

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[for once, Zhas is not wearing a full face of skull makeup.

so for all intents and purposes, this looks like a video feed of a pretty normal guy propping up his communicator on something so that he doesn't have to hold it. as he steps back, his eyes go a little glowy in the dim light of the Red Fish's cargo bay--but that's not the focus, here.

his expression stays blank, but he brings his hands up to sign, in very clear ASL:] 'Who understands sign language?'

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[Unfortunately for Zhas, Kaworu interprets the gestures less as disinterest and more as an expression of good will. He's beaming, either like an idiot or like someone who's being earnest. (Maybe both?)]

Friends are good.

[It's a simple statement, but boy, does he mean it.]

[what... has he gotten himself into.

Zhas is still talking to him, at least, despite his growing number of reservations. he knows full well that ending this would be as easy as hitting the "off" switch on his communicator.

as his head slowly tilts to the side (perhaps under the weight of how patient he is being in turn), he responds again.]

Can I ask you some questions?

[Zhas gotten himself into some extreme fucking agape. Kaworu is here to love and tolerate. He's practically glowing — not literally, although he can do that, but he seems radiant in his... What is this, compassion? Even through a video feed, his atmosphere is the type that needs to calm down, though he is already so calm.]

Go ahead.

[well, at least if it turns out this guy is a vampire, he won't feel bad stabbing him later.]

What is your name?

[starting with a simple question, though a part of him is already concerned he isn't going to get a simple answer in return.]

[Not that Kaworu would actively condemn Zhas for stabbing him, but... pls no...

At the question, though, Kaworu pauses thoughtfully. Then he signs, quite slowly: ]

K - A - W - O - R - U [He breaks for a moment, to indicate the space between given and family name.] N - A - G - I - S - A

[Another good beat, and then the flow of his signing resumes to something a little more normal when he gestures,] A bit clumsy. [But he seems to beginning their exchange of language, because he uses the German sign for "little bit" — it's very close to the American sign, just vertical instead of horizontal. "Clumsy" is spelled out, as he's been doing.]

[sounds like a name from the East, to him. certainly not German. he cants his head again at the different sign, but it's not that hard to figure out--and after a moment of thought on his own, he signs back properly in turn.]

My name is Z-H-A-S. [and that's all, no family name.] My short name is-- [the sign for Z, simply signed over the front of his face. and how's this: he uses Kaworu's sign for "little bit" to say "short".]

Do you have a short name?

Edited (whoops that icon was too scary) 2016-06-12 23:05 (UTC)

[To show that he understands, Kaworu mimics the short name and pairs it with a very warm smile. After that, though, the smile is idle on his face; he stalls for several seconds, and maybe it looks like just an out-of-place pause, but he's thinking backwards and wondering if this is a part of himself that he can offer to another person. He hates feeling young. He really hates feeling young, and he's decided that, no matter what, he's Nagisa Kaworu...

But some things are indelible, and anyway, this is how Zhas connects with people.

Kaworu still feels reluctant even as he signs it: a T, and then the German sign for 'angel'.]

[he likes the wait, secretly. anything that makes the boy seem less perfect also makes him seem more honest, in Zhas' mind.

now, the sign for 'angel' is pretty close to the ASL version... but Zhas has not had a whole lot of reason to use that one, in his line of work, so he kind of just assumes it has something to do with birds and leaves it there. someday, when he's looking through his handbook, he may stumble across the actual meaning--but for now, he remains blissfully ignorant of why that's even remotely important.

he doesn't even ask about the T. his real name doesn't start with a Z. some things are better left politely ignored.

so he simply nods in return, and goes back to spelling things out.]

How long have you been here? [pointing at the ground after that, as if it wasn't already obvious.]

Edited 2016-06-12 23:34 (UTC)

[Of course it wasn't strange. There would be no reason for it to be strange, so the relief Kaworu feels at Zhas' acceptance is disproportionate. But he lets out a breath — psychosomatic stress relief for lungs that don't need oxygen — and his shoulders drop away from the slight rise they'd gained. He discards everything but the friendliness he's been displaying throughout the conversation.

But he raises his eyes in thought, and his hands flutter a bit instead of staying static while he thinks, calculating. Then: ] Four months. ['Four' is the same in ASL and German, just mirrored on a different hand. But he amends his answer, first once more using "little bit", and then adding the German sign for "long". He chooses "long" over "more" because the former is more demonstrative: he brings one hand out away from his chest to indicate length. It's kind of ambitious, but he hopes that Zhas can parse it.]

[no one would guess it, but Zhas knows the basics of several languages excluding his own, sign language, and the heavy accent of the deeply Irish who live in the town near home. he gets moved around a lot, and so he's gotten good at learning.

it's a nice gear to be in. thinking. progress. he mirrors the sign himself, and then drags a finger up the length of his arm: long.]

Me, one year and one month. [it's a mix of numbers and spelling, because this is about to get complicated.] Then I was not here. Now here again, two weeks.

[he brings a hand away from his chest, as far as it will stretch. very long.]

[If Kaworu weren't naturally so pale, his blanching would be noticeable. But since he is chalk-white, his unease shows instead in the momentarily tight line of his mouth, the bit of a wrinkle between his eyebrows. He doesn't like what he sees Zhas say.]

I did not know about leaving and returning.

[His thoughts are too uncomfortable to leave him with any focus for signing creatively: this time, the sentence is just spelled again.]

[if he wanted connection, here it is. this has been bothering him since his arrival on the Marsiva, and maybe even before that.]

It is confusing... [his fingers trail off, until he decides to show him the sign for it. "the one he picks is a good word to know, and he mouths it even though no sound comes out.]

I was looking-- [pretty easy, pointing from his eyes to elsewhere in space.] --for other people who have left and returned. There is something I cannot remember.

[after spelling "remember", he just taps his temple. there was another sign for it, once, but he and Coil wound up shortening it a long time ago. his expression has barely changed over the course of this whole conversation, but here his eyes narrow in thought, and his frown deepens again.]

I knew that people leave... [He trails off, here, hands idling, not even a "but" to help the pause a long. It draws out, and his eyes glance away from the screen for a moment while something close to a grimace creeps onto his face.

Then, with his attention back on Zhas, he spells: ] So it can alter what you remember. [This pause is only the length of a heartbeat, before he touches his own temple in imitation. He lowers his eyes once more, and hums out loud — hmmm, most likely for his own benefit, more force of habit than an actual contribution to the conversation — before bringing his uneasy stare back to the camera.] Are you all right?

[he doesn't want to believe that what he experienced was just a fleeting dream, because all of his work with the supernatural and the paranormal have taught him better than that. but the thought of his memories being tampered with isn't a soothing alternative.

and unlike most people, he was never conditioned to reply with an automatic "yes" to things like "how are you" and "are you okay". he's silent for seconds too long, eyes aimed at the ground, genuinely searching for an answer within his own murky depths.

'are you all right?' of course he isn't. he feels like screaming.

finally looking up again, he shakes his head and spells out steadily:] I am angry.

Edited (clarification whoops) 2016-06-14 14:18 (UTC)

[It's scary. Kaworu thinks so — he doesn't feel that way about a whole lot, but it's scary, the idea of meddling with a mind, destroying memory and maybe more... And what of Zhas' capacity for choice? Has that been affected? Kaworu's core temperature feels like it's dropping, although he never otherwise cares about the cold. Zhas isn't the only person Kaworu knows who's had his memories betrayed; but that almost makes it worse. The other instance Kaworu knows of this was undoubtedly nefarious. It's not easy to try and put it in a positive light.

When Kaworu nods at Zhas to show his understanding, those deep red eyes of his are heavy with a very genuine sympathy. His hands are raised, poised in the air to say something, but he doesn't seem to know which words to use. Shinji had told him, "You know everything." Kaworu thinks about that a lot. He thinks about it all the time, because all he knows is a fraction of what there is, of what he could say...

Finally, he goes with a little more honesty than he usually reveals.] I am angry for you. [He uses the signs for 'I', for 'you', but 'angry' is spelled out, crystal clear in its lettering. If he really is angry, he looks awfully solemn for it.]

[he is scared too, even if he doesn't recognize it yet. anger is a secondary emotion, after all--an instinctual defense against feeling hurt.

he trusts Kaworu's hands more than his face (he's always been better at reading body language than facial expressions--maybe that's why he took so well to signing), and so believes that the boy really is angry on his behalf. and that is... a very encouraging thought, in a strange way that neither stirs up nor settles the howling in his chest.

what he does know is that validation is hard to find--so with another small nod, he touches his chin and pulls his flat hand away. "thank you", at least in American sign.]

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