Samples
Third person sample:
She stepped lightly into the room, her presence invasive and unobtrusive. She was to remain here, for this period of time. She was to stay within these walls, and enjoy what was called music. Music. Ikari enjoyed music. This she knew. This she understood. The reasons behind that seemed to escape.
The girl moved to a table, touching delicately on the items resting there. There was something like what Ikari used there. Awkwardly, as if her hands were unaccustomed to the item, Ayanami lifted the headphones to her ears, then looked over the player itself with a cynical eye. The buttons seemed logical. The triangle on its side would make the music play. She pressed it, her finger lingering for the moment when nothing happened. Sound came, then, sound recognized as piano keys, like the one in the room itself where another had placed themselves. Ayanami glanced to it, watched as the music played in her ears, then looked down at the player.
There was no knowledge of why Ikari listened to music as much as he did with this. It was noise, sound. There was nothing else. She could continue listening, and this would remain unchanged. However....
A voice had rose, no words to be heard, but a solitary note held, stretching out to accompany the keys played. Ayanami blinked, the sound briefly familiar, then stilled her thoughts. She listened to the rest of the piece, the voice breaking through in intervals, a haunting melody that rose and fell. It made the simple sound the piano would have been into something different. Something entirely... different. She didn't know how to describe it. As she considered it, the music rose again, then slowed its pace, moving downward until it stopped. Nothing played after that, and Ayanami remained where she was, staring down at the player.
Nothing. Now, there was silence.
Her fingers moved across the device, and it popped open. Neutrally, she skimmed the title. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The words graced meaningless, the name somewhat recognized. Nothing beyond that. The girl closed the player, then shifted to glance at the room. An empty chair was nearby, and she moved to it, sitting. Ayanami considered the player, and after a moment, pressed play. It started again, the sound already familiar, and she looked to the side, staring patterns into the wall. No, she decided. It was not the music itself that mattered. It was sound. Created and expressed by a human soul. But just sound. The voice, too. Alone, it was probably the same. Meaningless. Empty. Noise. But together, voice and music made something. Something had called to her, deep inside of the being she had labeled as herself. It was a creation, made from human effort, and in that, it had turned into something, that while lacking a purpose, somehow created a sort of meaning. Like a city or an Eva. Something that had meaning. Something.
The voice rose in song, wordless and resonating, and Rei wondered what it would be like. To create something like that.
This thought was altogether fleeting, and Ayanami set the player where she had found it, content to spend the rest of the shift lost in her own silent musings. If there was a secondary glance back at the player, it was not conscious.
Third person sample: (reapp)
Nothing had given itself to change. And yet everything had. In the interterm of time’s passing, life had continued to move. As she had known it would. For she was but an outside participant, an observer in place to bear witness to the rotations of the earth. There was little more to categorize it as. She could not think of anything else.
It had even shifted backwards in her period of oblivion traced to nothingness. The military had dispersed and the hospital had regained itself, and she was left to wonder if the military had been dreamed. Except that Ayanami did not dream, not as others did, and for that she was left with the complete and total truth of the matter. Things had changed, and she did not know if she could define them as better or worse.
Ikari was gone. The Second as well. And Kaworu Nagisa. All three gone without a trace, and she knew it for she had watched and waited, and none had appeared. She knew it because the faltering connection held between her and the supposed Fifth had vanished, and Ikari….
Ikari was not here. This, Rei knew well.
So it was that she found herself alone. Even in solitude, there lacked a degree of change, and even in this place, things remained the same. The scar on her neck, the memories of the two entry plugs used in ways they shouldn’t have been. No. Nothing had changed, but. She found herself alone, and it was new to her. Still, it was not something that she should find as strange. She had existed in solitude, and this was but the same.
Except for the fact that she had known bonds, and now they were gone from her.
Should she hold a hopelessness within her for that fact? There had been little show of progress before, and yet, that was due to her and not to them. Would she be able to adjust that herself? The military had been a comfort, a way to allow her to move within bounds rather than freely. Would she be able to place herself anew and push forward in this? Or was it that she should merely give in, allow everything to happen as it would? A possibility yet undenied. It still existed as an option, if in the end, there was nothing to succeed in.
She would be replaced. It was a comfort and a curse. If she failed, here, or at NERV, she would simply be replaced. And her presence would be forgotten, the space left unmissed, and things would move as if she had never been.
There was peace in that, but it was also quietly questioned. Would she be forgotten by that girl as well? Would Aigis forget her face in Rei passed into time and memory? Or would Ayanami be missed, and held as something to be remembered?
It was a fluttering thing, the fact of hope. Strange and shifting, she held a hand to her chest and considered.
She stepped lightly into the room, her presence invasive and unobtrusive. She was to remain here, for this period of time. She was to stay within these walls, and enjoy what was called music. Music. Ikari enjoyed music. This she knew. This she understood. The reasons behind that seemed to escape.
The girl moved to a table, touching delicately on the items resting there. There was something like what Ikari used there. Awkwardly, as if her hands were unaccustomed to the item, Ayanami lifted the headphones to her ears, then looked over the player itself with a cynical eye. The buttons seemed logical. The triangle on its side would make the music play. She pressed it, her finger lingering for the moment when nothing happened. Sound came, then, sound recognized as piano keys, like the one in the room itself where another had placed themselves. Ayanami glanced to it, watched as the music played in her ears, then looked down at the player.
There was no knowledge of why Ikari listened to music as much as he did with this. It was noise, sound. There was nothing else. She could continue listening, and this would remain unchanged. However....
A voice had rose, no words to be heard, but a solitary note held, stretching out to accompany the keys played. Ayanami blinked, the sound briefly familiar, then stilled her thoughts. She listened to the rest of the piece, the voice breaking through in intervals, a haunting melody that rose and fell. It made the simple sound the piano would have been into something different. Something entirely... different. She didn't know how to describe it. As she considered it, the music rose again, then slowed its pace, moving downward until it stopped. Nothing played after that, and Ayanami remained where she was, staring down at the player.
Nothing. Now, there was silence.
Her fingers moved across the device, and it popped open. Neutrally, she skimmed the title. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The words graced meaningless, the name somewhat recognized. Nothing beyond that. The girl closed the player, then shifted to glance at the room. An empty chair was nearby, and she moved to it, sitting. Ayanami considered the player, and after a moment, pressed play. It started again, the sound already familiar, and she looked to the side, staring patterns into the wall. No, she decided. It was not the music itself that mattered. It was sound. Created and expressed by a human soul. But just sound. The voice, too. Alone, it was probably the same. Meaningless. Empty. Noise. But together, voice and music made something. Something had called to her, deep inside of the being she had labeled as herself. It was a creation, made from human effort, and in that, it had turned into something, that while lacking a purpose, somehow created a sort of meaning. Like a city or an Eva. Something that had meaning. Something.
The voice rose in song, wordless and resonating, and Rei wondered what it would be like. To create something like that.
This thought was altogether fleeting, and Ayanami set the player where she had found it, content to spend the rest of the shift lost in her own silent musings. If there was a secondary glance back at the player, it was not conscious.
Third person sample: (reapp)
Nothing had given itself to change. And yet everything had. In the interterm of time’s passing, life had continued to move. As she had known it would. For she was but an outside participant, an observer in place to bear witness to the rotations of the earth. There was little more to categorize it as. She could not think of anything else.
It had even shifted backwards in her period of oblivion traced to nothingness. The military had dispersed and the hospital had regained itself, and she was left to wonder if the military had been dreamed. Except that Ayanami did not dream, not as others did, and for that she was left with the complete and total truth of the matter. Things had changed, and she did not know if she could define them as better or worse.
Ikari was gone. The Second as well. And Kaworu Nagisa. All three gone without a trace, and she knew it for she had watched and waited, and none had appeared. She knew it because the faltering connection held between her and the supposed Fifth had vanished, and Ikari….
Ikari was not here. This, Rei knew well.
So it was that she found herself alone. Even in solitude, there lacked a degree of change, and even in this place, things remained the same. The scar on her neck, the memories of the two entry plugs used in ways they shouldn’t have been. No. Nothing had changed, but. She found herself alone, and it was new to her. Still, it was not something that she should find as strange. She had existed in solitude, and this was but the same.
Except for the fact that she had known bonds, and now they were gone from her.
Should she hold a hopelessness within her for that fact? There had been little show of progress before, and yet, that was due to her and not to them. Would she be able to adjust that herself? The military had been a comfort, a way to allow her to move within bounds rather than freely. Would she be able to place herself anew and push forward in this? Or was it that she should merely give in, allow everything to happen as it would? A possibility yet undenied. It still existed as an option, if in the end, there was nothing to succeed in.
She would be replaced. It was a comfort and a curse. If she failed, here, or at NERV, she would simply be replaced. And her presence would be forgotten, the space left unmissed, and things would move as if she had never been.
There was peace in that, but it was also quietly questioned. Would she be forgotten by that girl as well? Would Aigis forget her face in Rei passed into time and memory? Or would Ayanami be missed, and held as something to be remembered?
It was a fluttering thing, the fact of hope. Strange and shifting, she held a hand to her chest and considered.