Don't Be Scared

I will stay by your side until the very end. (indie Kaworu Nagisa of Neon Genesis Evangelion. Not a nice Kaworu! Very mean, very manipulative and he has a thirst for the blood of any Shinji Ikari! A real creep. Dark themes lie past this point! Some rules-- No godmoding, respect my privacy, respect that I have a life outside of here and have fun.)

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

    THIS MAY WELL BE A DREAM.

              Time passes in such a way that it feels like it might be. Surroundings meld together in a blur of color, and there’s only warmth at his side, nothing beyond him, nothing beyond them. Time becomes nonexistent altogether. Shinji even relaxes a little.

              He doesn’t even notice when the two of them touch down, feather-light, that they are no longer in the same part of the city. Just as quickly and uncannily as they were in Kaworu’s part of town, they are back in his, before Misato’s apartment complex.

              In a moment of dazed confusion, Shinji stops, registers familiar landmarks, gathers his bearings. Reality was such a blur before that he has no recollection of seeing any familiar landmarks on the way back — did he dream all of that after all?

              Yet, Kaworu is still here before him, commenting on it with the same nonchalance he’s had about everything else this evening. Maybe he’s dreaming him now, too. He doesn’t much care whether it is or not anymore, though.

              ❝ No, it’s alright, ❞ Shinji assures him. ❝ It was kind of strange, but…not bad. It was better than anything else I could’ve been doing tonight. Um… ❞

              He could ask now. He could get answers. But he doesn’t have the heart right now.

              ❝ …Thank you, Kaworu-kun. ❞

Bless Ikari Shinji’s foolish idiot heart. Tabris does not have the time nor the patience for inquiries now.

Before Shinji’s thanks can leave his lips, Tabris vanishes along with the evening.

No, this is no dream.

A nightmare?

Yes.

(The boy with green eyes lies on the ground; the shine within them turns to a glaze.)

A nightmare.

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

    SHINJI LISTENS, FOLLOWING

              Kaworu’s example as he explains, but worry creeps up on him. There’s no way that just thinking of nothing will make him weigh nothing, right? They were just in the air, so he has to take his word for it, but still something is off in the back of his mind. He has to ask. He has to ask.

              But there’s still the hand in his and the silvery voice that delivers the instructions, which, frankly, could convince Shinji of anything. He trusted him on their flight ( he’ll call it what it is ) out the window. He can trust him again.

              More swiftly than he can say “wait a second,” Kaworu jumps from the edge, and Shinji half-jumps, and is half-pulled along with him. With a short cry of shock, the roof of the building disappears beneath his feet, and then — there’s no impact.

              If this is a dream, it’s a wildly vivid one. If it’s not, he has questions — but he can’t ask them now. He forces himself to keep his mind completely blank until they’re down. His focus is only on the graceful presence beside him.

To Shinji, time may slow to a crawl and perhaps it may even feel as if they may fall forever. This is no accident. It can be one of many side effects of bending reality.

Before they even touch the ground, the shift happens. They are in Tabris’ neighborhood no more. A familiar apartment building looms over them.

“Would you look at that?” says Tabris, nonchalant. “I long-jumped you all of the way over here.”

Shinji will of course find that the apartment door will unlock for him should he be locked out and that anything he may have brought with him to Tabris’ flat will be in its rightful place.

Well, it should be, anyhow.

“I apologize for all of the trouble that I have brought to you this night,” Tabris murmurs at the proper octave, with the correct softness. “It was supposed to be an evening of new beginnings and roads not taken. I ruined that for you. Please forgive me.”

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

    SHINJI BREATHES OUT

              an apology at Kaworu’s light scolding, and obediently keeps his eyes tightly shut until the rush of wind past them slows and the bobbing motion ceases. Then, he blinks them slowly open again, looking uncertainly up at Kaworu’s face from his position still in his arms, like he’s seeking permission to open them. They’re not — as he calls it — broad jumping anymore. But that was not a jump. They didn’t go down right away.

              But he doesn’t get the chance to ask. They need to get down from the roof and the only way to do that is for him to let Kaworu teach him the “technique” so they can continue. However surreal this is. Maybe it’s a dream. So he nods his consent.

Gently, Tabris puts Shinji down. His hand grasps the boy’s.

“Bend your knees, like this.” Tabris demonstrates. “Then think of nothing. Nothing at all. You must be as free as air. In this way you ride the wind.”

Of course, these instructions are nonsense. When they find naught but air beneath their feet, Tabris’ incredible power will carry Shinji to the ground. The boy need not know that.

“Come, to the edge with me.” He guides him to the building’s brink. “Take a deep breath, close your eyes if need be, and then .... jump!”

Hand in hand with Shinji, Tabris leaps.

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

    A SHARP GASP

              is drawn in as Kaworu leaps from the windowsill, grip tightening even more with the sudden motion, and he keeps his eyes squeezed shut in preparation for a landing. ( It doesn’t come. )

              Shinji has never been overly afraid of heights, but now, suddenly, with nothing to cover them or to break a fall, they’ve become terrifying. His thoughts are an incoherent mess of How? and This is crazy! that feels impossible to verbalize, and he feels his whole body pumped with adrenaline. If he wasn’t awake in the apartment, he certainly is now.

              Curiosity gets the better of him, and against Kaworu’s advice, he cracks one eye open for a split second. But that proves to be a split second too long, and it’s closed again almost right away.

              ❝ This is — I’m alright, but — ❞ But how?

"I told you not to look,” is Tabris’ gentle, almost motherly censure. There is the barest hint of venom in his mouth as the words leave him. Oh, to scoff! He longs for a timeline where this friendly pretense is unnecessary.

A timeline where he may torment Ikari Shinji for as long and as harshly as he pleases. Tabris can scarcely imagine it.

“Well, then,” he says, landing atop a convenience store roof, “I can see we shall not be doing any more broad jumping unless you get over this fear of yours. Shall I teach you my technique?”

[seashoresavior]

With the Apostle gone, I’ve no one to tease.

I shall have to make this one count.

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

    HE TAKES HIS HAND,

              and suddenly, unexpectedly, he’s in Kaworu’s arms. Shinji’s breath hitches as his feet leave the ground, and again at the mention of jumping. Will he really? They won’t just go out the door?

              But even now, Shinji finds himself complying. There have been so many strange happenings tonight, so many — but even this is something he will passively allow to happen. He’s always been one to simply allow things to happen. He’s found that living that way is easier.

              So Shinji obeys. His hold on Kaworu’s shoulders is tight, his eyes are squeezed shut. He listens to the silvery sound of his voice, instructing him, reassuring him. He trusts him. He trusts him. He trusts him.

              Are you ready? All Shinji has to offer in reply is a wordless nod.

Before Shinji bows his head to him, Tabris is beginning to crouch down. His acquiescence is foretold through the flutter of eyelids, the unrelenting grip upon him, the immediate obedience.

Tabris unit-∞, launch!

Launch, Tabris does. A sweet breeze flows over them, a grand moon shines down upon them, a night as dark as onyx holds them close. If only he could forget the weight in his arms, he could pretend he is alone.

Not for long, however. He is doing this to repair their budding relationship.

“I again advise you not to open your eyes,” Tabris tells the boy gently.

Ah, he must also remember to ask after the child’s health. “How are you feeling so far?”

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

    HE SEEMS FINE,

              even having suffered a nightmare just moments ago. It’s strange how quick Kaworu is to dismiss it as just a ghost of the past, yet somehow, Shinji also can’t help feeling — strangely — slightly envious. His own dreams come vividly and haunt him for a long, long time afterwards.

              Still, Kaworu’s dream has been brushed away, forgotten, and that’s what’s important to Shinji. A hand is extended to him; a benevolent gesture to quiet the seed of anxiety planted in his chest. It’s clear that both of them are wide awake now. He would rather not remain that way on his own, if he doesn’t have to. Not after witnessing something like that.

              ❝ I-I wouldn’t mind, ❞ he answers. The hand comes away from his head to take Kaworu’s. They could both use each other’s presence at that moment.

Envious! Of what? Tabris would have laughed had he peeled back enough of the boy’s brain to see that funny little thought. No, no more invasions of space for tonight. He in fact entertains the idea for an ephemeral moment only to dismiss it. The Angel has enough to fix right now. Tabris knows how to bandage hearts, not minds.

Gently, so gently, he takes that hand. Easily, he shifts Shinji so that he is carrying him in his arms.

“Close your eyes,” says he, pulling open a window. “I leap very high as I am quite the expert at broad jumping. I do not wish for you to experience nausea. Hold on tight to my shoulders.”

With one foot on the sill, he has a thought. Put in that extra effort toward forgiveness now and it shall pay off later. “I will not drop you,” assures Tabris. “Now, then. Are you ready?”

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy replied to your post:

Only if I wouldn't be bothering you?

Now who could have possibly put such a thought in your head?

[seashoresavior]

To think I missed Shinji-kun’s birthday, my favorite holiday.

L e t  u s  m a k e  u p  f o r  l o s t  t i m e

[seashoresavior]

I have been so, so, so lonely.

Won’t one of you Shinjis keep a Kaworu Nagisa company

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

    THEY SIT THERE FOR

              what feels like an eternity, silence held at bay only by the soft beep, beep that Shinji has only just noticed. Like the ticking of an undetectable clock. On and on. Tick, tock. The hold on his head never loosens for all of that time — until it does. The tension in the dark room suddenly snaps and is gone, and it takes him several seconds to realize he’s been released.

              Shinji raises his head. Wide blue are gazing wildly at red, just barely visible in the dim room. But when Kaworu speaks, he sounds like himself — composed, calm — and Shinji’s shoulders slacken, his expression relaxes. Kaworu gets to his feet and is by the window.

              ❝ Yes…I’m fine. ❞ The way he says it is like he’s not quite fine, not quite all there, even, like the hand grasping his scalp had drained him of his vitality, too. He brings his knees into his chest and tentatively reaches up to pamper the spot with one hand, then looks to Kaworu beside the window.

              ❝ But…what about your dream? Is everything alright? ❞

A fool thing, sentiment. Lilin are equipped with it for morality purposes. Angels need no compass. Morality? The children of Adam live and breathe through one another. It is the Lilin who can hurt each other with mere words.

Tabris is not hurt.

“It was only--”

Only. He would laugh but Tabris is in a precarious enough position.

“A memory.”

A hand extends toward the Third-- a bid for a second chance. “Shall I make amends? You look as if you also could use some air.”

If such a gesture is rebuffed, Tabris can enjoy his time among the stars in euphoric solitude. If the hand is taken, he can repair the damage. Each course has its silver lining.

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

 ▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

           ONE MOMENT, IT IS SILENT.

                                  The next, Shinji is confronted with an intensity born from turbulent sleep, and a once-gentle hand’s rough grasp.

                                  The source of Kaworu’s sudden rage is unknown and invisible to Shinji, and he’s far too slow to react to it. There’s a tight grip on his scalp, and his small frame hunches with the motion, eyes that were once on fiery crimson now forced down toward a dark patch of floor. He squeezes them shut and a noise escapes him in his shock. His tired mind races to process what has just happened, even as traces of panic begin to seep in — this touch isn’t the kind he wants, he hasn’t done anything wrong.

                                  Get away from him. Get away? Shinji’s hand drops to the floor, away from Kaworu’s shoulder, and his face contorts with confusion.

                                  ❝ A — Away from who? ❞ he implores, just as soft, but not lacking in urgency. ❝ Kaworu, let go, p-please — there’s nobody here, it was just a dream! ❞

Eternity ambles past them, Tabris’ warm smile clashing with a gaze plated in hoar. For the longest time, naught but silence hangs above them like a guillotine’s blade. The so-called peace is broken by a low, slow beeping that rapidly blossoms into the exigent piping of something situated in the area directly behind Tabris’ head.

Hidden beneath Tabris’ shirt collar, fixed to the base of his pale neck, a metal device no bigger than a bottle cap blinks and shrills with urgency as it reads the violence in brain waves, taut muscles and grit teeth. Before the tocsin from hell is able to shatter his brain, the Final Messenger relinquishes his hold on the boy.

He breathes in. How embarrassing.

“Forgive me, Shinji,” states he calmly. “I was experiencing a night terror.” He lifts his body from the sleeping bag as though it weighs twenty tons as to refrain from alarming even more his quite-alarmed guest. “I believe that I may be in need of fresh air.”

The Angel starts for the window, then turns to Shinji. “Ah. Where are my manners? Are you all right?”

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

 ▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

           ONCE THEY HAVE SETTLED

                                  into their sleeping bags and on a program for the night ( comedy, it seems ), Shinji slides beneath the covers, stretching his arms over his head. He’s only paying attention to the television for a short while, and it is funny enough to warrant a few smiles and a chuckle now and then ( though kept hush-hush, so as not to disturb Kaworu beside him ). But after a time, he’s not sure what the jokes are anymore. Someone says something, and the unseen studio audience laughs at the something, but he’s too tired to know what.

                                  Too tired to know what, but not tired enough to sleep peacefully. Even long after he has stopped listening to the jokes, Shinji lay awake, suspended somewhere between waking and slumber. The hours will be brushing on one o’clock soon. One thirty. He should be asleep…

                                  He does drift off, somewhere, at some point, but it comes fleetingly. Be it a noise, or a thought that comes before he can fully close his eyes, or the beginnings of an unpleasant dream that throw him back into waking, he can’t seem to stay asleep long.

                                  After one such manifestation of his worries, when he wakes again, Shinji gives up on the idea of rest altogether, sitting up and rubbing his face. The room is dark this time around. There’s no little red light, or anything on the TV screen. He figures a fuse, perhaps, or maybe Kaworu turned the set off while he was asleep. The room is dark, but there’s a movement next to him.

                                  And there’s just enough light from windows that he can see something isn’t right. There’s a trembling, violently shaking movement beneath Kaworu’s covers. For several moments, Shinji finds himself just watching. Watching, squinting in the dim light, and trying to picture what might be going on in his mind — but that does no one any good.

                                  It’s a restless new year for both of them, then, he supposes.

                                  A moment of hesitation, and then Shinji reaches over, hand hovering uncertainly over Kaworu’s shoulder before shaking. Gently, first. Then a little more. ❝ Hey — Kaworu? Kaworu, wake up — ❞

Dreams are not the norm for a Nagisa Kaworu of any stripe. Nightmares are a scarcity. At night, all is a wondrous void within the realms of Tabris’ mind. The Vessels of the Seeds of Life are incapable of the imaginary nocturnal films that so move and disturb the Lilin.

Tonight, this is not so for Tabris.

So when he wakes, his wide eyes do not roam the room frantically, his breath is not ejected in heavy pants, his body does not explode out from his polyester sack. Instead, two still-burning embers flare in the umbra of eventide.

The world of dreams has never existed for Tabris. And so, the vivid and horrific walk down memory lane is mistaken for something more real.

A hand shoots out from the opening of the sleeping bag. Trembling fingers attempt to grasp at dark brown locks, the outline of which appearing to meld with the night. Clutching the top of Shinji’s head, Tabris’ milky-white features warp into a muted rage.

“Get away from him,” he commands softly. “Get away.”

[seashoresavior]

tabrisisms

    The surprises keep coming.  But Kaworu has already admitted ignorance to one form of Lilim ingenuity; two in a row is crippling to his ego.  So he wrestles down the curiosity, training a look of skepticism on the device.  

    ❝ Oh.  I know all about the Slip Chap, ❞ he lies.  ❝ But…let’s use it to see if it actually works. ❞

    Nailed it.

"Want to see it in action, I take it,” drawls Tabris. “Very well.”

He holds the device high over his head, and commences the spiel. “The Slip Chap dices. It slices. It chops and it minces all within seconds. Vegetables, nutes, fruits? No problem.”

Seemingly from thin air, a tomato manifests.

“Switching blades is a thing of the past. Every slap makes for finer foods. Observe.”

Tabris takes the vegetable. He raises the device.

Then he turns it upside down and smashes the handle of the pump upon the fruit. Juice and pulp splatter all around. Nothing is left un-reddened.

“It is simple. Try it, Snow Angel.”

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

 ▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

           THAT’S ALL IT TAKES;

                                  it feels as though a weight has been lifted from Shinji’s chest, and traces of a fragile smile reappear on his face. He doesn’t have to be so aware of the fact that he is alone anymore; at least, not until he has to go back. ❝ Thank you, Kaworu. ❞

                                  He, too, is just finishing his meal when suddenly the lights flicker and go out. Jumping slightly in his seat, Shinji tosses quick glances around; everything is off. The room is dark, the programs following the song festival have cut out. He can barely make out the outline of Kaworu’s figure before him.

                                  But it’s only for a few moments, and when the lights come back on there are two sleeping bags set out on the floor by the television. Shinji blinks. Much the same way he feels about their first meal of the year, he doesn’t quite remember those being there a moment ago.

                                  But he won’t comment. This whole night, things have seemed to be melting into one another, appearing and disappearing like a dream. Maybe it’s him.

                                  ❝ I don’t know, ❞ is the extremely helpful answer given when the question is posed. ❝ I don’t really watch anything when I sleep. ❞ And he doesn’t. That’s difficult to manage in a storage closet.

                                  ❝ Do you have a preference? I wouldn’t really mind anything. ❞

The Child’s confusion concerning the sleeping bags and their apparently being magicked into reality amuses Tabris for a time but such a feeling is ephemeral. Shinji can be entertaining for only so long before the dullness crushes the Final Messenger. He is beginning to be unable to tell if the Lilin taking this peculiarity in stride is humorous or deeply irritating. No one in this world is this helpless, this sad. Tabris keeps his face as still and constant as an iced-over pond. This Angel is in no mood to heal any hurt feelings that might arise due to an inadvertent sneer.

“No preference,” says Tabris, surfing from one channel to the other. He has no need for remote controls when he has the full force of his psyche and an Absolute Terror Field at his disposal but he has decided that he has been too sloppy in obscuring the extent of his power from the Third, oblivious though he may be. Shutting his eyes, he clicks the remote rapidly and stops. Peals of laughter and slide whistles rend the myringa to pieces. A comedy special is perfect for putting him to sleep.

Lilin will contract their diaphragms at anything.

Tabris does not bother opening his eyes. The grey static underneath his eyelids soon takes on inkier qualities. The probe in the base of his neck thrums in the background. Shapes form in the ink-- noses, chins, teeth, hair, digits, irises.

Green irises.

The light ebbs from them, the red LED of a television quietly turning off as the plug is ripped away. The life drains out like the blood from his face. Not a lot of blood. One would think there would be more but Lilin love to exaggerate in their arts, their movies. Tabris cannot move.

They found him.

Tabris can feel his knees shake.

Ah. Only the one knee, as a matter of fact. It shakes as violently in the dream as it does outside of it.

Tabris did not think he could dream. Perhaps he had never wanted to believe it. He holds two principles to be true, Tabris-- memories belong in the past and complete and utter control is his right as the Child and Vessel of Adam.

Dreams tend to disregard both tenets.

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

 ▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

           THE SILENCE DRAGS ON

                                  for a period of time, only filled in by the soft clink of chopsticks on china, until Kaworu decides to break it. He asks Shinji about his plans for the day. His usual semblance has returned.

                                  Then his offer gets him thinking. His plan was to get up early and go to a shrine. Perhaps with Misato and Asuka, if Misato has any plans to take the two of them with her. But it’s late, and he wouldn’t want to take the train back home at this hour. He doubts either of them have given him a single thought, either. And even if it weren’t so late, he doesn’t particularly want to return home tonight.

                                  Besides, he’s here. And as of late, here has been more comfortable than home.

                                  Shinji fidgets. Folds his hands in his lap, twiddles his thumbs, stares briefly down at his plate before looking back up into Kaworu’s warm eyes. ❝ …Only if you wouldn’t mind. I’d really rather not go home tonight. ❞

Shinji’s emotional state could not be more transparent had he been wearing a glass mask. Tabris physically renders immobile a finger which he longs to wag at the Child. Had it been some other reprehensible cur hosting him, the heart Shinji wears on his sleeve would undoubtedly have been crushed.

“It is no bother.” In several flicks of the wrist, Tabris wafts away Shinji’s troubles. “You are welcome to stay here as long as you like.”

Until the Angel tires of him, that is.

As soon as Tabris finishes off the remainder of his “edibles,” he flicks his eyes toward the television and lights. Coincidentally, all goes dark.

The lights come on, revealing in front of the television set two sleeping bags that were not there before. Tabris cants his head at Shinji innocently.

“Strange. The landlord will have to hear about this, I suppose. Now, then. What should we watch in order to ensure the most auspicious dream possible?”

[seashoresavior]

thiirdboy

▐░▒▓ ►► 「  ɴᴏ. 03 ; 」

           THE MOMENT HE SPEAKS,

                                  he sees that something has changed in Kaworu’s face; something has dulled. And the second he does, he lowers his head shamefully and tries to remedy his bold correction. ❝ I-I didn’t mean it like that, though, ❞ he stutters out. ❝ That just…it just seemed — I guess it sounded — ❞

                                  Kaworu clarifies, and Shinji nods. A simple mistake. Of course.

                                  But he can’t help feeling that, from only a moment ago onward, he’s only caused the night to go from good to bad, with one mistake after another. The atmosphere isn’t quite the same as it was when he came inside. It isn’t what he remembers. Then again, he was invited here; he can find comfort in that fact. But the air seems heavier, the television falls on his ears more like static.

                                  At least the meal that has appeared before them is good.

                                  ❝ It’s really good, Kaworu. Th — thank you. ❞

                                  By now, Shinji figures it’s better if he keeps quiet.

For a ling while, only the sound of chopsticks against plate serve as their conversation. Tabris allows the dreadful silence to linger-- not a second too long, however. This is about making Shinji feel comfortable.

“Well, then,” states he, all warm smiles and twinkling eyes. “What does my honorable house guest have in mind for New Year’s Day? You must have come to some sort of conclusion in that regard. Have you sent out your cards? Do you plan on paying a visit to the local shrine? Or, perhaps-- ”

Tabris laces his fingers together before placing his chin atop the pale bridge. “Would you like to sleep over and have a good dream?”