Quote:No, no, no, no, no ... we've _had_ semi-insane MPD suffering powerhouses before.
Insert into a hyperboomer body, at the exact moment that Brian J. Mason and Armstrong G728 download in and merge to form Largo.
I wouldn't mind the semi-insane MPD part as much as I would the powerhouse part.
What I had in mind was to put yourself into a mostly normal, but deplorable, person. Then turn that around somehow. Mason, other than his (debatable) wetware and his fancy, mobile coffin (aka armored suit) is mostly company clout, reputation, and nastiness.
It's why I chose Shinji for this rather than, say, Kotomine Kirei (which, while fun, wouldn't have been 'new' exactly, going by type), who actually _has_ power of his own. Shinji, on the other hand, is just ... well, Shinji. Theoretical knowledge without practical potential to use it unless he's swiping Maryouku/Mana/Prana from somewhere, the integrity of a sunken wreck, you know.
Other characters viable for this sort of approach would be - Katsuhiko Jinnai (El-Hazard OVAs), Muruta Azrael (Gundam SEED), Mamoru Torigai or Makoto Isshiki (RahXephon) and so on.
"Where were you today, boy?"
You know, I don't think I've ever met anyone to embody the concept of 'dried up old prune' as well as Matou Zouken did.
Not that I was going to tell him that.
Nor was I about to tell him I'd spent most of the day shambling along at random, trying to think up as many ways of getting rid of the old fart as I could.
And coming up blank most of the time.
Still, if I had to choose, I'd rather it be him I have to deal with rather than Sakura.
"Out clearing my head, grandfather," I said, as calmly as I could manage. Which I think took him a little by surprise. "I don't think being jittery with anxiety would have been conductive to getting anything, do you?"
"Idiot child! How do you expect to ever amount to anything if you feel nervous at the very throught of such trivialties," Zouken spat out with some very real malice behind it.
I'd like to say I kept my cool, but that's not entirely accurate.
"What's the point? In a few months I'll either be dead or it won't matter. I'd think preparing for the War would be important enough."
"That is why it would be safer for you not to think at all, boy."
... which was when he jabbed towards me with his cane and I realized I'd just done something phenomenally stupid.
Not that I had a lot of time to take the realization in, since for the next ... oh ... several days I was busy screaming, then wimpering as all my nerves' pain receptors seemed to ignite all at once.
At least, that's what it felt like at the time.
"It's good to see you finally gaining some backbone ..."
Hard cane, too, I faintly noticed when it whapped against my ribs, sending further 'reminders' along my neural pathways.
"... but you forget to know your place."
I managed, somehow, to haul myself up to my knees and replied with the least-shaky "Yes, grandfather. I won't forget" that I felt up to managing there and then.
"Hmph," I heard the clacking of the cane on wood and footsteps slowly moving away from me. "Maybe there's hope for you yet, foolish boy."
Hope?
Yeah, you old fart, there's hope enough for me here.
And you can bet I won't forget.
Those were the basics of what was going through my mind when I was dragging myself towards my room.
Next? Hey little sister, what've you done?
-Griever
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