damned_institute | Nightshift 41: West Wing, Hall 2-A

Beatrix was sure, given enough time, there would be something for HK-47 to kill. Unfortunately, since she wasn't aware of who the loud man was, she couldn't be a helpful assassin and trip him as he ran by to give HK-47 a chance to stab the man somewhere interesting.

Stopping at the door at the end of the hall, she turned to cover their rear while the droid took care of the door.

[going here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/644012.html)]

[From here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/634636.html?thread=53791500#t53791500)]

Otacon headed down the nearest corridor, surprised to find it completely empty. Or as empty as it was possible to tell when he wasn't carrying the flashlight, but the beam followed behind him, lighting up just enough to calm his nerves. Otacon turned back to face Kaworu.

"This is going to sound crazy," he warned. "Possibly crazier than anything else you've heard so far in this place, and if your situation has been anything like mine, then... crazy would probably be an understatement. But I'm not lying to you. I don't even think I could've come up with this on my own. Well, not unless I was writing a terrible self-insert story." Otacon finally took a breath. "In my world, you're... actually pretty famous. But you don't really exist there except as a— a fictional character from a Japanese anime. Er, I guess I don't really have to explain anime to you since you're Japanese... sort of... aside from that Angel stuff..."

He trailed off again. Had Kaworu ever even watched television? Otacon's brain stalled to realize he might have to explain that too.

Although television was not available to him where he had been raised, Kaworu was factually aware of what it was. Enough, at least, to conceptualize what it meant to be a animated character in this man's world. Somewhere far away, the Lilim watched themselves and how they existed in Kaworu's world. A third party witnessing everything they themselves did. Lilim were an odd case of one piece never knowing or understanding what the other was doing. It often seemed as though they did not notice at all... But at the same time they could be intensely fascinated spectators to their own suffering. It was a creature that simultaneously loved to watch itself experiencing pain, and yet possessed an unequaled will to survive. They were constant contradictions; yearning for companionship, but always alone. Otacon had just taken this and effortlessly expanded it, as if he had simply asked Kaworu to take a step back and see that the world was infinitely larger than he had ever thought to consider. He felt slightly dizzy, but maintained composure. His gaze ceased to focus on Otacon momentarily, but he made no expression.

"Lilim." he murmured vaguely to himself before his eyes regained their light. "You know everything about me?" Kaworu felt awed at the prospect.

Edited 2009-06-09 04:47 (UTC)

"Ah, well, not exactly," Otacon fumbled, "more like... uh, thirteen minutes of everything about you. Granted, a pretty crucial thirteen minutes..." He hovered awkwardly beside the flashlight beam, unable to tell Kaworu's reaction. He wouldn't have blamed someone for undergoing a mental BSOD after a crazy revelation like that, but Otacon suspected Kaworu to be a lot more resilient. It would've still helped, though, if the Angel had a more readable face.

"I'm sorry. If it counts for anything, I don't think this makes you any less of a... a person. That is, normally alternate universes are posited as closed systems, but that doesn't mean events in your world couldn't have made some kind of influence on mine. I-I mean — obviously you're as real as I am, and we're both stuck in this situation. Whatever I know about you is just enough to know that I'd like to be your friend."

Edited 2009-06-10 15:46 (UTC)

Kaworu smiled, wide enough so that what little light illuminated his face made it easy to guess what expression he was making. Lilim were his friend, he knew. He loved them, and had told them so, and that was key to companionship. It was all he could ask for. Otacon was in many ways much like Shinji, particularly in the way his voice had a tendency to halt and hesitate as he spoke. Anxious about getting too close, but trying so hard. Otacon was him, and yet was not at all. It was strange to see echoes of behaviors he knew in this man, but to also have to wonder how real they were. Maybe one day he would forget how Shinji truly was, and would become unable to tell when he was speaking to him again.

Without warning, all of the faces he had met that day began blurring into one. He anchored himself by looking at the shadowed outline of Otacon, searching for his features.

"I will be your friend as well." Kaworu reached out one skinny hand and lightly touched Otacon's elbow.

Otacon started when Kaworu touched him, but returned the smile, a little more tentatively but no less genuine. "Oh. Good! That's great," he said, straightening up with visible relief. As juvenile as it might've sounded, it still cheered up Otacon to be on good terms with one of his favourite anime characters. "And your secret's safe with me, you know. I mean, if you wanted to keep it a secret, although it seems like you're not the only superhuman person around here..."

He looked around them once more as he talked, and noticed a nearby door with a sign that marked it as the Staff Research/Medical Reference Library. "Interesting," Otacon murmured. He tried the doorknob, but found it locked.

Kaworu watched Otacon trying to open the door, and quickly determined it was acceptable to act without censoring his abilities now. Otacon knew what he was, and amazingly did not seem at all bothered. Kaworu wanted to help him.

Reaching out, though not with his hands, he pushed the door. He could almost feel its solidity and the pieces of the lock that needed to be moved... but nothing happened. He was met with a resounding lack of results, and he began to wonder if his impressions of the door were only in his imagination. He had simply imagined feeling what he had expected to. Kaworu searched inside of himself, but only found emptiness. It was as if a limb had been removed, and he felt uncomfortable to have not noticed sooner. He found the force of his soul, and though it flickered reassuringly in response... he did not feel right.

He had to take a second to shake off the creeping numbness; he was still off balance after Otacon's revelation, and suddenly felt further away from the world than usual. The events of the day were beginning to pile up, and Kaworu saw no solution. No choices. They were things that simply were, and he could do nothing but react.

"I do not think I am anymore." Kaworu's voice still came out distracted. "I'm sorry, I had wanted to open it for you."

"Huh?" Otacon turned, seeing a peculiar expression on Kaworu's face that reminded him of a kid he saw just days ago, a soldier with some of the quieter symptoms of SOPS. The association unnerved him. Otacon stepped in front of Kaworu, forcing those strange red eyes to focus on his. "Hey, are you okay?"

I'm sorry, I had wanted to open it for you. It took a second for Otacon to make the connection, and glanced back at the door to the reference library, still standing untouched and unperturbed. "Wait, you can do that even outside of Nerv?"

Kaworu nodded, but then added "It seems I cannot any longer." He felt slightly more awake since Otacon presented himself as something to stay grounded by, and so he held eye contact with him. It helped, but the emotions in him were deep and full of discomfort, and they echoed in a hollow, dull way.

"Souls are made weak here," he said, both as an explanation and as an answer to the previous question. "How do you feel?"

Otacon shrugged, and tried to give him a reassuring smile. "Confused, mostly. And a little on edge from how dark it is in here, and all that talk of monsters, and remembering how the starter equipment in Silent Hill is always a radio and a flashlight, not to mention the creepy hospitals—" He broke off before Kaworu asked him to elaborate, and laughed somewhat nervously. "But, ah, I'm sure we're fine."

The teenager still looked a little unsteady. Otacon paused, thinking back. "The primer did mention that 'powers' had been... altered? How they manage it, or what exactly that means, I couldn't tell you. The only 'power' I have is being good with machines." Otacon tried the doorknob again, this time noticing the rust and slightly loose fit. Hmm.

He took the flashlight from Kaworu and, taking a deep breath (and a second to pray to the Allspark that this didn't leave them without a light), slammed it down on the lock.

After the first crack, which Kaworu stayed silent through, both of them stood and stared at the lock as if expecting something to happen. Nothing did. At least not until Otacon punished the lock with several more blows.

As soon as the door revealed the dark room beyond, Kaworu craned his neck to look. Once he decided that wasn't as immediately interesting, he returned to watching Otacon. A picture of the man as a whole was slowly forming in his mind. "Lilim," he began, not at all wondering now if the Lilim in question knew the name, "are capable of immense accomplishments through their knowledge. It is your gift. I can only destroy, but you can create."

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/650455.html)]

Hm...what kind of materials would he need for a flamethrower? Something combustible, obviously...He could probably find something flammable in the janitor's closet! An aerosol can would be ideal: who needed high tech equipment when you just wanted to set on fire whatever you happened to be looking at?

But he'd also need some kind of igniter...Where could he find something like that...

Nightshift 41: West Wing, Hall 2-A

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