(OPEN) let me play you the song of my people

[imusntrunaway]

Date & Time: An indefinite time after the festival.
Location: The music rooms, Unit 208, some musty old club.
Characters: Shinji and YOOOOOOOU
Summary: Shinji wants to kill time after listening to all those merry tunes during the festival. The cello is a potent weapon. Also music in the moonlight with an Angel wow how nice.
Warnings: Depressed teenage introspection. Mumbling. Super gay duets. Uuuh nothing else really.

(OOC: Prose or action is fine by me!!)

If one ventures near the music rooms in the early mornings, or if the residents of 208 happened to be around, they might hear classical music floating through the air. The source of this music comes from one Shinji Ikari, his back faced to the door as his fingers deftly dance across the cello's strings. His eyes are closed in concentration--he's tuned out the world as he plays, looking for once content.

Most days, the network was his anesthesia. But there were times where, as he laid languidly on his bed, staring at nothing in particular, he felt a smothering weight on his chest. Doing nothing only seemed to make it worse. Shinji thought that things would be the same in Exsilium as they had been on Earth. He'd been right, but he'd also been wrong. Seeing his fellow pilots-- seeing Kaworu alive--

Something had quietly begun to change within him. A small seed of unrest had been planted that wormed through his apathy.

The bow drags along the strings with the measured skill of an experienced musician. But to his ears, it's a rusty plod. He hasn't been improving, advancing.

Surprisingly, that irritates him.

The music plays on, harsher and angrier.

[FEBRUARY 14th, CLOSED; FOR KAWORU]
The night air nips at his face, numbing it. As he sighs deeply his breath wavers in the air before fading into nothing. On his back is his cello. The instrument was the reason why it took him so long to leave the apartment. Shinji had internally debated on whether to bring it. In the end, the memory of soft-spoken words (i would love to hear you play) is what decided for him.

The festival is over. The litter of festivities covers the streets. The city feels desolate and mournful as he walks on, eyes trained on his tablet. Occasionally he glances up to make sure he's going the right way, but otherwise he keeps his head down, his pace fast.

He isn't sure how this will end. He's said some harsh words to the Angel during their last meeting and the fact that the other still invited him, out of a patient kindness... it makes him feel guilty. Because despite everything he's said, despite the distance he tried to shove between them, there's a truth he's been burying deep within himself so he wouldn't have to look straight at it.

(I miss you. I'm lonely.)

He's ashamed of himself having such feelings and for hiding them.

The ruins rise gently into his line of sight. He's arrived. Cautiously, he enters, his hand pressed against the worn door frame.

"... hello?" he calls softly.

Comments

[salvagedsoul]

Although he's already had his head and arms buried in the belly of this old piano for hours already over the past few days, here he is, doing it again as he's waiting for Shinji. All possibilities for restoring the quality of its sound were exhausted at this point - there really isn't much use for him to be trying again.

To distract himself? To keep himself busy. What for? Shinji had agreed to come. That was the one thing he'd been unsure about. And that agreement had lifted a heavy worry off of his shoulders. There was no need to be occupying his own attention in this way. But here he is, adjusting the strings again.

He doesn't have time to think about it further - a tiny familiar voice brings his mind back. Pushing himself up, he looks towards the doorway, which was illuminated by the lack of a roof over side of the old building.

"Don't worry, you're at the right place," he says with a smile. "Although the location could be a little nicer." After a moment, he notices Shinji is carrying something - something that looked big and heavy, but he couldn't quite make out in the light.

[imusntrunaway]

That gentle voice draws him away from the frame, into the building. Overhead, the night sky remains dark and silent, barely enough light seeping through. But even in the darkness, Kaworu is visible. Even from this distance, he can feel his powerful presence. Shinji comes closer, taking care to watch his step.

"It's all right." To Shinji, there's no difference between the cells of a prison. No matter where he is in Exsilium, he'll always be aware of being different. Separate.

He runs a hand along the top of the piano, dust coating his fingers. "Were you tuning it?"

[salvagedsoul]

"I was trying," Kaworu said with a bit of a sigh. His eyes follow Shinji's hand and the fine grey particles it disturbed. "It's not in the best shape... but it's amazing it's here at all. It's very old."

The bundle on Shinji's back is much easier to see now, with him so close. It really was large and heavy. For a moment - it takes a second for him to see it, and take in the shape...

Kaworu's fingers flex at his side.

"You found a cello." He looks up and down at the case, and then back to Shinji. A simple observation, stating the obvious considering the size of it - but under his warm, mellow tone of voice, there was an anxious excitement. "How is this possible? We've both been very lucky. Does it sound alright?"

[imusntrunaway]

Kaworu's excitement is a little infectious. Despite himself, Shinji gives a small smile and carefully sets the instrument down. "Someone lent it to me," he says. "I have to practice it in return..."

It's not a bad deal at all, considering how expensive instruments could be. "It's okay. I'm getting used to it."

[salvagedsoul]

There's a beat of silence. Kaworu takes in his reluctant smile. He's seen that look on Shinji's face before, at the lake in Tokyo-3's ruins, and again at NERV when he found him waiting. Inside his chest, it was coming to him - that warmth... a desire to reach out with his hand and touch him. A need to see him keep smiling.

In an instant, he knows what they're going to do. Smiling knowingly, he turns away, only to sit on the edge of the piano bench.

"Shinji-kun, will you play for me?" he asks politely. Planting his hands behind him on the bench, he leans back and looks up at him. "I've wanted to hear you play since I found out you could. Something short is fine."

[motioned]

One thing that she appreciated about this world, however small it was, was her ability to sleep in every morning. Though she loved going to school back in the Port, she often found herself exhausted at the end of a long day. Here, it's almost making up for lost time, or lost sleep, as the case may be. That's why it's a bit of a surprise when she wakes up early to the sound of music.

Fighting off the last dregs of sleepiness, she climbs out of bed, leaving the room to investigate... And then hurrying back to the room on a second thought to change out of her nightgown into some real clothes. After that's accomplished, though, she wanders into the room where the sound is drifting from, peeking her head around the corner.

"Can I listen?"

[imusntrunaway]

Startled, Shinji abruptly stops, the bow jerking and sending free a sour note. With a wince he looks back with an expression not unlike a guilty child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. When he sees that it's just Ahiru he sheepishly turns around to face her. He didn't mean to disturb his housemates, or for anyone to be listening. Hence why he chose to practice so early.

"Um... did I wake you?"

[motioned]

She smiles, waving off his worries with a hand as she laughs lightly.

"Oh, please don't worry about that, it's a good way to be woken up. Better than sleeping in really late, anyways! What song is that?"

[imusntrunaway]

Shinji returns her smile with a small one of his own, looking down at his cello. "It was Bach. Cello Suite No. 1." He sounds apologetic as he recites the name. "I haven't played it in a while... so..."

[redheadcarrier]

Asuka doesn't normally pay much attention to music. Sure, if she applied herself, she could probably pick it up just easily as everything else she'd put her mind to in her life. But trying to play an instrument bored her, almost to tears (and it hadn't had a thing to do with piloting) so she'd discarded her attempt at violin lessons as quickly as she could. She'd simply refused to go, despite the admonitions of her father and her step-mother.

Eventually they'd given in and the violin teacher had stopped coming and the instrument had been left to gather dust in a corner of the sitting room. Today, she pauses in passing at the sound of a cello carefully scraping out a tune - then it changes in tone. She remembers that sound in the apartment and on an impulse, she pokes her head into the music room. Almost instantly her shoulders tighten up and her hands clench. She's hardly even aware of it, aside from the knot of tension that suddenly twists her gut. For a long moment, she lets him play, staring at Shinji. Then she steps into the room, arms folded across her chest.

"Still playing, huh?"

[imusntrunaway]

Shinji doesn't notice her--he's focused entirely upon the song, stretching his frustrations taut across the strings. He can't make it sound right to himself. Over and over again he repeats the final movement like a broken record, each fumble prompting a restart. He shows no signs of stopping. He needs to get it right, get it perfect--

And then he hears the footsteps, her voice. He stops midway, bow frozen in place. His shoulders tense. He lets his arm drop.

"The person who gave me the cello said I'd have to practice," he answers, his tone blandly pleasant.

[redheadcarrier]

"So, of course you start to practice. Like a robot," Asuka deadpans. She stalks over to him and eyes his setup - the music, the instrument. Her lip curls slightly - she still wants to scream at him. Make him pay for everything. Well, a part of her does. But the little peace offerings, the tentative little bridges they've reached out to each other with - they're tempting. They offer the idea of companionship, someone who's a bit safer than anybody else here. Who knows about her life in Tokyo-3.

She reaches out and plucks one of the strings, listening to the sound it makes. "Why'd you keep repeating that last part, Ikari?"

[imusntrunaway]

Shinji doesn't answer at first. He's afraid to, to be honest. Of striking the wrong nerve and eliciting another shouting match. But he watches her as she approaches him, wary like a wounded animal. When she reaches over he flinches, then annoyance crosses his features. He shifts the cello slightly away from her, lowering his eyes.

"The tempo was off," he mutters. Truth be told, he couldn't quite tell what had bothered him about the last part. All he knew was that it grated at him.

[theguideless]

They were closer than either of them would've thought. Well, not officially, but Martin spent a great deal of his time at unit 202 – Bariyan's. It was more comfortable and secure than the room he still carried a keycard for. And for how sore and...well, gross he felt those days following the candy binge, comfort was more important to him than ever. He hoped whatever...was happening to him – sore limbs, face breaking out in little red...things...He hoped whatever it was would pass soon.

And vow to not eat candy ever again.

He had just meant to cross the hall on the way to the door when he caught the cello's sound. It stopped him mid-step, his foot settling flat once more and stare at the door.

208. Did he know anyone there? He didn't think so, but...

It was lovely. He leaned against the wall opposite, slowly sliding to the floor, knees drawn up.

It didn't take long for him to drift, nodding off in the hallway, even as the music ended.

[imusntrunaway]

By the time Shinji finished playing it was eight. After helping to prepare breakfast and bidding his housemates goodbye, he's out the door, already running the schedule for the day through his head. Mandatory practice, groceries--

He didn't expect to see someone crouched practically right in front of the apartment, asleep. Shinji blinked in confusion and looked around, but didn't see anyone. What was this guy doing out here? Was he a friend of Ahiru or Celebrian? A homeless boy who'd been looking for shelter?

Either way... someone would probably come along and take care of him, regardless of who he was. He shouldn't bother.

Shinji hesitated. Then he knelt, slowly reaching out and shaking him by the shoulder.

"... hey. Hello?"

[theguideless]

"Mhn..."

Martin, not the lightest sleeper, fidgeted before sluggishly lifting his head up, his face contorting into a grimace at the stiff pain in the back of his neck. He blinked a few times to get focus, then squinted, still not familiar with the face attached to that arm. He'd thought it was Bariyan at first, or...

"Uh?" he replied dimply, blinking a few more times until coherency slowly came back. He sat up a little bit, rubbing the corner of an eye. "Am I in the way?"

Was he? He forgot where he was. He looked around, found it to be the hallway, and things slowly started clicking back into place.

"I was just listening to..." Wait. He frowned, straining to hear. "Oh...It's gone. There was music."

[imusntrunaway]

"... music?" Shinji tilts his head. That was a strange reason to fall asleep in the hallways for. Where could the music have come fr-- oh.

"Um..." He glances down, a little embarrassed. "I think that... might've been me. Sorry. I was practicing."

AHAHA LATEST

[ex_symbioses706]

The door of the music room had been a little bit open, and Ranka finds herself gravitating to it to listen instead of just looking for another empty one. The music is lovely, far beyond her own ability with an instrument - or even her voice, a part of her thinks - and she vaguely recognizes the melody as something classical. The door creaks open farther as she pushes it - quietly, she hopes - and she stands in the doorway to continue listening, unwilling to interrupt him.

YOU'RE NEVER LATE

[imusntrunaway]

By the time Shinji finishes, he feels vaguely frustrated. He still can't place what's bothering him. He decides that it's best to stop for today--he wasn't making any progress anyway. As he packs up his cello, he notices that the door's open... and that someone's there.

Shinji straightens up, blinking in surprise. Had she been listening?

"Sorry." It slips out of him without much thought. He rubs the back of his head. "Um... I'm going now. If you were planning to use the room."

[ex_symbioses706]

She starts when he notices her, her hair with its abilities to reflect her emotions raising in alarm.

"No! I mean, I'm sorry, I can find another room! It's just, the music was really pretty, so I stopped to listen, and...ah! I guess that's kind of weird."

[imusntrunaway]

Seeing her nervous makes him a little nervous as well. He stammers a bit, shaking his head. "No, no, it's--! You don't have to go, I'm already-- uh... leaving."

And then her words sink in. Shinji's gaze darts away from her face, embarrassed. "It's not a big deal. I don't mind much." A beat. "Thank you. For thinking so."

[nothing]

Attending training as early as possible, leaving unceremoniously as she came. Slowly, Rei is acquiring the routine. A ghost of synchronization tests, strengthening her living weapon. For a battle that is not hers, though no battle has truly been. It's a strange expression, because she does not need one. This is sufficient, even when the Angel's words resound somewhere within-- the boy, who is the same. She now wears a coat outside. Dully, she realizes it shouldn't be so cold.

And then. She's heard several songs before, each of them passing her by as easily as the last. There's never any relevance. It raises the question of why, now, she stops dead at the soft music reaching her. A distraction from her course. Such has been happening to her more often. Is this her mind? Its way of avoiding the thoughts it has no desire to hold?

No. Someone's heart is calling.

This is different and she can't comprehend the reason, nor how emotion can be gleaned from bow on strings with their meanings already elusive. But a pull remains, and she follows to the source without resistance.

On reaching the open doorway, it occurs to her. Surprise would be an appropriate reaction. Instead, all begins to find its place. All, besides hers in this unknown territory Ikari has built around himself. She will not tread. She will not disturb this. For her part, there is only stillness.

[imusntrunaway]

It's useless, in the end, to try to replace the lost Evangelion with a simple string instrument. The gaping hole is simply too big. The robot had cast a long shadow over his life. His thoughts had been twisted around its existence, rooted too deep to pull out even after being whisked to a new world. A fresh start was presented for him, but he is unable to step forward. The groaning cello provides no stable ground for him--only a mindless routine to keep himself busy, a small drink of freshwater for a thirsty boy drifting in a dark ocean.

He's done for today. No progress will be made, like the days before it. He's struggled long enough. With the cello strapped to his back he starts to leave to begin another routine day.

When he turns he doesn't expect to see blue and red. It catches him by surprise and he stops mid-turn, staring.

"... Ayanami?"

[nothing]

"Ikari-kun."

Always her response. She allows herself the barest approach, enough to enter the room. At some point, both hands had clutched at the spear for lack of knowing what to do with them, so she drops one while relaxing her grip with the other. She has startled him. Inevitably, perhaps. He appears well, in the physical sense. The rest remains unclear, as does a proper way to inquire after him. Rei diverts to what can be seen.

"You play an instrument."

Knowledge not gained in their own world. Never the need or opportunity.

[imusntrunaway]

He eyes the spear--not out of fear, but out of curiosity. It looks odd for a weapon. Shinji nods.

"Yes." Bit by bit, it's becoming easier to talk to her. Perhaps living in a new world where all sorts of things could exist had dulled his senses for the abnormal. That, and the fact that he's been given time to think things over. Their conversations up until now had been like hesitant dips into a still pond, and he's begun to build resistance to the cold shock.

"You heard, didn't you?" It's not accusatory. It's just a simple statement of the facts.