Thankfully, I did not come across many people as I made my way out into the streets of Tokyo-3, and those I did pass in the hallways saw the guest pass and pretty much ignored me. I'd say I used my superior acting skills to put out many subtle signals, using body language to convey that yes, I did in fact belong here, except - that'd be lying.
I did find out that I'd managed to get the SEP Field effect down moderately well, though.
Tokyo-3, as a city, could be considered large. It had certainly been built to impress, even with the more recently created landmarks like the insult to geometry that lay sprawled, as much as something like that could sprawl amidst the cleaned up wreckage of a city blocks a mile off thataway.
Taking my eyes from the fallen form of the Angel formerly known as ... err ... his name had started with R, I think - Ramen, Rammstein, Rasin, Ritapon ... ah! Ramiel! That was it - I considered:
Point. I had met someone in a situation similar to the one I was in myself, if in a more taxing position.
Point. My admittedly spotty knowledge of events was only good as a foggy memory here, due to that someone's influence and who knows what other factors.
Point. I _still_ had to find some way of getting the hell out of Dodge, preferably without discorporating - as much as the body's general appearance weirded my out, it wasn't like a better opportunity was likely to come knocking anytime soon.
Point. That way would more than likely involve the EVAs ... I had an inkling of a theory, but I'd have to run the idea past someone who could actually say whether or not it was something that could be made doable.
Point. The people living here were living on borrowed time, and though I'd pretty much gotten rid of anything even remotely resembling a hero complex - I'd gotten the desire to save people out of my system back in good 'ol Mega-Tokyo - there were some faint pangs of guilt that were making themselves felt as time went on.
Point. Emi Ayanami, Logan Goodhue, Gabriel ... why, oh why, did the possible implications of him/her using the last name in that sequence whilst introducing him/herself make me uneasy? Also, did this mean ... wait ...
... I recalled Emi's jersey. 'Ayanami 03'? I begged off on speculating upon the matter there and then. Too many options and possbilities. I'd ask when we met again.
Point. Emi had mentioned visiting 'her' sisters. That was another throwaway reference that could be interpreted in a number of ways. Another thing to inquire about, then.
Point. Kaji. Emi was, apparently, working together with him. To what end, I didn't know.
That was a lot of freakin' points ...
Paranoia nagged at me as I wandered towards the Furinkan-cho station. What were Emi's motives, goals ... for that matter, how did that same question apply to all the other 'established' personages of the timeline. Well, those relevant to the situation I found myself in. I knew I'd be foolish in assuming anything about that.
I squashed the nagging voice, or at least attempted to do it, telling myself to go with the flow for now. Watch, examine, gather information.
I exhaled, cleared my mind, and shoved my suspicious side to standby, instead taking in the scenery as I continued on.
Yes, Tokyo-3 could be considered large. It was far from Mega-Tokyo large, though. Which, while a bit saddening - hard to believe I feel nostalgic about that urban monstrosity - wasn't all that bad a thing. There was a generally open feel to it, a sort of unencumberance that befell a person walking along the wide, neat streets ...
Truly saddening was the fact that, while large, it was still not as large as Tokyo had been. And these wide streets were, for the most part, not particularly busy at all.
I'd noticed before, yes, but never really paid any heed.
'How many people had Impact claimed?', I let myself wonder. And shuddered. Faintly. That much destructive potential was unsettling.
It seemed that depressing thoughts were the order of the day.
Shaking them off once again, much like a dog shakes itself free of water, I noticed I'd almost arrived at my destination.
The station itself was ... well, nothing special, really. There are really only so many ways to build one to be functional. It was also, save for a few people up on the platform, deserted.
I'd arrived with a few minutes left to spare.
Looking around once, I picked out a bench sitting against the wall in one corner of the waiting room, and planted myself there. I tended to sit with my back to the wall whenever I could, really. In addition, the position gave me a good overview of the street outside of the station, and the waiting room itself.
I settled in for the wait. Not a particularly long one, as it turned out.
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm
I did find out that I'd managed to get the SEP Field effect down moderately well, though.
Tokyo-3, as a city, could be considered large. It had certainly been built to impress, even with the more recently created landmarks like the insult to geometry that lay sprawled, as much as something like that could sprawl amidst the cleaned up wreckage of a city blocks a mile off thataway.
Taking my eyes from the fallen form of the Angel formerly known as ... err ... his name had started with R, I think - Ramen, Rammstein, Rasin, Ritapon ... ah! Ramiel! That was it - I considered:
Point. I had met someone in a situation similar to the one I was in myself, if in a more taxing position.
Point. My admittedly spotty knowledge of events was only good as a foggy memory here, due to that someone's influence and who knows what other factors.
Point. I _still_ had to find some way of getting the hell out of Dodge, preferably without discorporating - as much as the body's general appearance weirded my out, it wasn't like a better opportunity was likely to come knocking anytime soon.
Point. That way would more than likely involve the EVAs ... I had an inkling of a theory, but I'd have to run the idea past someone who could actually say whether or not it was something that could be made doable.
Point. The people living here were living on borrowed time, and though I'd pretty much gotten rid of anything even remotely resembling a hero complex - I'd gotten the desire to save people out of my system back in good 'ol Mega-Tokyo - there were some faint pangs of guilt that were making themselves felt as time went on.
Point. Emi Ayanami, Logan Goodhue, Gabriel ... why, oh why, did the possible implications of him/her using the last name in that sequence whilst introducing him/herself make me uneasy? Also, did this mean ... wait ...
... I recalled Emi's jersey. 'Ayanami 03'? I begged off on speculating upon the matter there and then. Too many options and possbilities. I'd ask when we met again.
Point. Emi had mentioned visiting 'her' sisters. That was another throwaway reference that could be interpreted in a number of ways. Another thing to inquire about, then.
Point. Kaji. Emi was, apparently, working together with him. To what end, I didn't know.
That was a lot of freakin' points ...
Paranoia nagged at me as I wandered towards the Furinkan-cho station. What were Emi's motives, goals ... for that matter, how did that same question apply to all the other 'established' personages of the timeline. Well, those relevant to the situation I found myself in. I knew I'd be foolish in assuming anything about that.
I squashed the nagging voice, or at least attempted to do it, telling myself to go with the flow for now. Watch, examine, gather information.
I exhaled, cleared my mind, and shoved my suspicious side to standby, instead taking in the scenery as I continued on.
Yes, Tokyo-3 could be considered large. It was far from Mega-Tokyo large, though. Which, while a bit saddening - hard to believe I feel nostalgic about that urban monstrosity - wasn't all that bad a thing. There was a generally open feel to it, a sort of unencumberance that befell a person walking along the wide, neat streets ...
Truly saddening was the fact that, while large, it was still not as large as Tokyo had been. And these wide streets were, for the most part, not particularly busy at all.
I'd noticed before, yes, but never really paid any heed.
'How many people had Impact claimed?', I let myself wonder. And shuddered. Faintly. That much destructive potential was unsettling.
It seemed that depressing thoughts were the order of the day.
Shaking them off once again, much like a dog shakes itself free of water, I noticed I'd almost arrived at my destination.
The station itself was ... well, nothing special, really. There are really only so many ways to build one to be functional. It was also, save for a few people up on the platform, deserted.
I'd arrived with a few minutes left to spare.
Looking around once, I picked out a bench sitting against the wall in one corner of the waiting room, and planted myself there. I tended to sit with my back to the wall whenever I could, really. In addition, the position gave me a good overview of the street outside of the station, and the waiting room itself.
I settled in for the wait. Not a particularly long one, as it turned out.
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm