KS-EVANGELION (2012)
Posted: Tue Dec 25, 2012 10:49 am
Warning: Possibly Disturbing (Hope you like End-of-Evangelion for Christmas)
Also; did this in less than a day, almost right after browsing the 2012 Secret Santa
===========================================================================
21-12-2012
The world has ended
I am no longer a pilot
KATAWA SHOUJO
- EVANGELION -
Shards of sunlight cut themselves noticeable below, in the ruined city's rusting windows.
I sit here, atop watchtower-3, overlooking Yamaku-3, judging their 3 defunct sky cannons.
They held off the alien-human hybrids's attacks, and have earned forever rest in disrepair.
The distant hum of the last evacuation ship in the sad grey sky asks if I should still be here, watching over ..nothing.
A map of the broken world that is earth tilts its war-ridden face and questions if I'm waiting... for something.
But I continue painting my map, knowing that.. in the End of this all, it's not the picture that I'm looking for.
It's the map of memories in my heart that I'm after, the fond moments with people and my fellow beloved pilots.
My friends. All dead and gone. Ashes and dust carried in the wind of the dead. In this world of the dead. ..and forgotten.
Forgotten so much, that I must recollect, the pieces and the bits, the spicks and the specks. The littlest things that meant so so much to me.
I remember Shizune, the Third Child. Dutiful Pilot of Eva-01, the "Silent Siren".
I remember she was deafened by an accident, and mute, she had never learned to talk. By the time I knew her, she was distant and calculating.
But I remember her smile... it was brief, it was ..beautiful. Forever painted in my heart.
Jigoro was Shizune's father, the administrator of Yamaku-3, the monster that drives us all.
Summoned to Yamaku-3 by a rudely simple message, Shizune had every intention of saying no at the last possible moment, to spite her father, even if it meant the end of the world if she didn't pilot Eva-01.
But I would have, I would have gotten into the plug chamber and driven it, and I would have died.
Why did Shizune go in the mecha instead of letting me die? I wanted to.
But it was alright. She fought and won, against the overgrown alien-human hybrid's bio-mech. At the cost of her freedom.
There was no chance of turning back, she knew that, but she did it. She became a pilot anyway. ..and I think she blamed me.
We didn't talk much, I couldn't understand her the same way no one understood me. But I wanted her to know that I'll appreciate her forever for what she did.
I don't know how many paintings I created, how many letters I wrote, how many failures I tried conveying my gratitude to her. She never understood and pushed me aside.
She would never hear what I had to say, even if I could say it in a way that she would understand. But one day, some small part of my yearning wish came true. When the alien-humans attacked again.
They learned from their mistakes and brought a fortified ship, all 3 sky cannons bombarded it and scratched only it's paint. Our mechas would be no use against it either.
Shizune and Captain Miki Miura, the pilot of the snazzy but stomped-on Lamborghini Miura, devised a suicide attack strategy, to use Eva-01 as a doomed distraction while I manoeuvred Eva-00 close enough to stab the tiny opening vent of the enemy ship's core.
I sabotaged the operation when I jumped the gun, using myself as the bait while Captain Miura kept decrying my actions as irresponsibly reckless. Shizune didn't care, she took over my role and killed the enemy ship anyway. She was hailed as a heroine.
I was hauled from the wreck of Eva-00 as half a person, both my arms had fused and melted into the console, it took them too long to reach me, they had no choice but to cut them away. I was a shame to everyone.
It took a while to learn to paint again, I prefer to do it with my feet. They didn't mind me much anymore, I couldn't pilot the mechas anymore, they didn't need me anymore. Not with Shizune around; "Shizune Hakamichi", "The Great Starkiller", "Slayer of the Death-Star".
I spent so long learning sign language.. I would have communicated with Shizune the night before I lost my hands, that first time she acutally spoke. It wasn't clearly spoken, it was garbled, but I understood she said 'Sayonara'. "Farewell Forever". With the moon behind her and the night air so coldly beautiful, I was cruelly mesmerised and didn't think to sign to Shizune that it wasn't the end for her, I would take her place. She didn't have to die.
It was strange, my first day back at school. I don't remember when I left it to become a mecha pilot, but I'll remember forever when Shizune came and sat beside me in class.
I'll remember her offering me her homemade cooking for lunch. I'll remember forever the way she offered me her friendship. I'll remember the first time she truly smiled at me.
..and how I smiled with so much happiness in return.
I truly smiled with all my heart, in all the days that we spent together. I was her friend and she was mine. "The Silent Siren" and "The Artist Formerly Known as The First Child". We were ordinary children, living ordinary lives.
While Shizune elected herself as Class President, and I learned to paint again, we met and made friends with our fascinating classmates along the way. There was Hisao and Kenji, and Iwanako too.
Kenji was very shortsighted, but was a man with a vista-filling visionary vision. He looked up to me and Shizune for being mecha pilots, and hinted strongly that he wanted to become one too. Something that irks Hisao everytime Kenji mentions it.
Hisao didn't like Kenji's constant worshipping of the "good work" Jigoro does, and outright hates the Eva mechas themselves, and by association, me and Shizune for being pilots.
But he has a good heart, it may have took Iwanako a bout of slapping to gently put some sense into him on my behalf, but he was a good person. He helped Shizune do most of the class-president work, while Kenji was mostly building detailed scale models of the Evas and Iwanako started to become my closest friend.
Those endless days that ended so quickly. It was just the five of us, joyfully together in class, lonely children learning to be happy with themselves again. The class-president team. Ordinary people. Living ordinary lives.
Also; did this in less than a day, almost right after browsing the 2012 Secret Santa
===========================================================================
21-12-2012
The world has ended
I am no longer a pilot
KATAWA SHOUJO
- EVANGELION -
Shards of sunlight cut themselves noticeable below, in the ruined city's rusting windows.
I sit here, atop watchtower-3, overlooking Yamaku-3, judging their 3 defunct sky cannons.
They held off the alien-human hybrids's attacks, and have earned forever rest in disrepair.
The distant hum of the last evacuation ship in the sad grey sky asks if I should still be here, watching over ..nothing.
A map of the broken world that is earth tilts its war-ridden face and questions if I'm waiting... for something.
But I continue painting my map, knowing that.. in the End of this all, it's not the picture that I'm looking for.
It's the map of memories in my heart that I'm after, the fond moments with people and my fellow beloved pilots.
My friends. All dead and gone. Ashes and dust carried in the wind of the dead. In this world of the dead. ..and forgotten.
Forgotten so much, that I must recollect, the pieces and the bits, the spicks and the specks. The littlest things that meant so so much to me.
I remember Shizune, the Third Child. Dutiful Pilot of Eva-01, the "Silent Siren".
I remember she was deafened by an accident, and mute, she had never learned to talk. By the time I knew her, she was distant and calculating.
But I remember her smile... it was brief, it was ..beautiful. Forever painted in my heart.
Jigoro was Shizune's father, the administrator of Yamaku-3, the monster that drives us all.
Summoned to Yamaku-3 by a rudely simple message, Shizune had every intention of saying no at the last possible moment, to spite her father, even if it meant the end of the world if she didn't pilot Eva-01.
But I would have, I would have gotten into the plug chamber and driven it, and I would have died.
Why did Shizune go in the mecha instead of letting me die? I wanted to.
But it was alright. She fought and won, against the overgrown alien-human hybrid's bio-mech. At the cost of her freedom.
There was no chance of turning back, she knew that, but she did it. She became a pilot anyway. ..and I think she blamed me.
We didn't talk much, I couldn't understand her the same way no one understood me. But I wanted her to know that I'll appreciate her forever for what she did.
I don't know how many paintings I created, how many letters I wrote, how many failures I tried conveying my gratitude to her. She never understood and pushed me aside.
She would never hear what I had to say, even if I could say it in a way that she would understand. But one day, some small part of my yearning wish came true. When the alien-humans attacked again.
They learned from their mistakes and brought a fortified ship, all 3 sky cannons bombarded it and scratched only it's paint. Our mechas would be no use against it either.
Shizune and Captain Miki Miura, the pilot of the snazzy but stomped-on Lamborghini Miura, devised a suicide attack strategy, to use Eva-01 as a doomed distraction while I manoeuvred Eva-00 close enough to stab the tiny opening vent of the enemy ship's core.
I sabotaged the operation when I jumped the gun, using myself as the bait while Captain Miura kept decrying my actions as irresponsibly reckless. Shizune didn't care, she took over my role and killed the enemy ship anyway. She was hailed as a heroine.
I was hauled from the wreck of Eva-00 as half a person, both my arms had fused and melted into the console, it took them too long to reach me, they had no choice but to cut them away. I was a shame to everyone.
It took a while to learn to paint again, I prefer to do it with my feet. They didn't mind me much anymore, I couldn't pilot the mechas anymore, they didn't need me anymore. Not with Shizune around; "Shizune Hakamichi", "The Great Starkiller", "Slayer of the Death-Star".
I spent so long learning sign language.. I would have communicated with Shizune the night before I lost my hands, that first time she acutally spoke. It wasn't clearly spoken, it was garbled, but I understood she said 'Sayonara'. "Farewell Forever". With the moon behind her and the night air so coldly beautiful, I was cruelly mesmerised and didn't think to sign to Shizune that it wasn't the end for her, I would take her place. She didn't have to die.
It was strange, my first day back at school. I don't remember when I left it to become a mecha pilot, but I'll remember forever when Shizune came and sat beside me in class.
I'll remember her offering me her homemade cooking for lunch. I'll remember forever the way she offered me her friendship. I'll remember the first time she truly smiled at me.
..and how I smiled with so much happiness in return.
I truly smiled with all my heart, in all the days that we spent together. I was her friend and she was mine. "The Silent Siren" and "The Artist Formerly Known as The First Child". We were ordinary children, living ordinary lives.
While Shizune elected herself as Class President, and I learned to paint again, we met and made friends with our fascinating classmates along the way. There was Hisao and Kenji, and Iwanako too.
Kenji was very shortsighted, but was a man with a vista-filling visionary vision. He looked up to me and Shizune for being mecha pilots, and hinted strongly that he wanted to become one too. Something that irks Hisao everytime Kenji mentions it.
Hisao didn't like Kenji's constant worshipping of the "good work" Jigoro does, and outright hates the Eva mechas themselves, and by association, me and Shizune for being pilots.
But he has a good heart, it may have took Iwanako a bout of slapping to gently put some sense into him on my behalf, but he was a good person. He helped Shizune do most of the class-president work, while Kenji was mostly building detailed scale models of the Evas and Iwanako started to become my closest friend.
Those endless days that ended so quickly. It was just the five of us, joyfully together in class, lonely children learning to be happy with themselves again. The class-president team. Ordinary people. Living ordinary lives.