yo dawg, i heard you like Imaishi so we put some Imaishi in your Eva so you can furi kuri while you furi kura.
---
Sirens blare as townsfolk stare at the massive biped stumbling out of Lake Ashinoko like a dime-store Godzilla. Normally, when a giant monster attacks, there's a military presence that steps up to get knocked down; an appetizer for the main course.
Tokyo-3 is far too savvy for that.
They learned their lesson after some of their military tech went rogue; tried to smooth out the wrinkles so people couldn't think. If the greatest technological marvels they could muster up got taken out by some punk kid with a Gibson Flying V and his batshit bunnysuited girlfriend, it was best to just leave the fighting to those kinds of people. Which is why, instead of a mechanized infantry regiment, two girls on a blue moped are the only assets being deployed.
If you can't beat them, hope they die fighting for you.
"Hey Teacher's Pet," Tokyo-3 Immigration Officer, NERV Branch Asuka Shikinami asks, riding backseat and holding on for dear life, "how come I always have to ride bitch?"
"Because it's my moped oneesama," Tokyo-3 Immigration NERV Branch Special Consultant Rei Ayanami replies, shrugging. She hunkers down and kicks the moped into higher gear; the wind stretching out her placid features.
"But if I'm the oneesama, I should be in front!"
"That would make sense, but I'm special," she rounds a corner, weaves through traffic like a snake. She turns around, takes her hands off the handles, and thrusts out her chest. "It says on my badge see, right here."
Asuka nods. "I guess when you put it that way." She points at it, "Wait, that's just a star sticker with your name scribbled on it!"
Rei frowns. "Commander Ikari made it special, he kissed it and everything."
"Isn't he like, your dad or something?" she says, disgusted.
"Didn't your father ever make something special for you?"
"Unless you count intimacy issues and an NTR fetish, I can't say that he did." She looks over Rei's shoulders, notices what appears to be a white version of Nadia crossing the street. More importantly, she notices that nobody seems to be driving the moped.
"Uh, Ayanami?"
"Yes, Shikinami-san?"
"Who's driving?"
The white Nadia stares down his impending doom wide eyed and slack jawed. It's not every day you see two girls with technicolor hair barreling down the street in a scooter that's doing 120 in a 30 zone.
It's also not every day you get run down by said sight.
---
"Oh Christ, we killed the Sub Commander's kid," Asuka moans, palming face.
"I don't think this is the Sub Commander's," Rei says, poking the shota corpse with her Fender Squire Bass, NERV standard issue. "Although the resemblance is striking. Perhaps he's a clone, like me?"
"A what?"
Rei gives a coy smile, "Oh, nothing." She rifles through the kid's pockets; all he has are packets of gum, some loose change, a miniature replica of the Lance of Longinus; standard stuff. She hits paydirt with his wallet, which she immediately flips open.
"Hard up for money again, eh Wondergirl?" Asuka smirks, arms crossed, leaning back on the moped as if telling the entire world to deal with it.
"PVC figurines are expensive," she mutters, pulling out a few bills. She goes to slide the wallet back into the unconscious kid's pocket, but a glance at something gives her pause. "Shikinami-san," she hooks a finger, "come here."
"What's up?" Rei shows her what caught her eye, a school ID. "Oh crap. We didn't kill the Sub Commander's kid..."
Tokyo-3 Prefectural High School Student Shinji Ikari begins foaming at the mouth, seemingly quite dead.
"Well, I guess I'm an only child now, unless you know CPR."
---
Sirens blare as townsfolk stare at the massive biped stumbling out of Lake Ashinoko like a dime-store Godzilla. Normally, when a giant monster attacks, there's a military presence that steps up to get knocked down; an appetizer for the main course.
Tokyo-3 is far too savvy for that.
They learned their lesson after some of their military tech went rogue; tried to smooth out the wrinkles so people couldn't think. If the greatest technological marvels they could muster up got taken out by some punk kid with a Gibson Flying V and his batshit bunnysuited girlfriend, it was best to just leave the fighting to those kinds of people. Which is why, instead of a mechanized infantry regiment, two girls on a blue moped are the only assets being deployed.
If you can't beat them, hope they die fighting for you.
"Hey Teacher's Pet," Tokyo-3 Immigration Officer, NERV Branch Asuka Shikinami asks, riding backseat and holding on for dear life, "how come I always have to ride bitch?"
"Because it's my moped oneesama," Tokyo-3 Immigration NERV Branch Special Consultant Rei Ayanami replies, shrugging. She hunkers down and kicks the moped into higher gear; the wind stretching out her placid features.
"But if I'm the oneesama, I should be in front!"
"That would make sense, but I'm special," she rounds a corner, weaves through traffic like a snake. She turns around, takes her hands off the handles, and thrusts out her chest. "It says on my badge see, right here."
Asuka nods. "I guess when you put it that way." She points at it, "Wait, that's just a star sticker with your name scribbled on it!"
Rei frowns. "Commander Ikari made it special, he kissed it and everything."
"Isn't he like, your dad or something?" she says, disgusted.
"Didn't your father ever make something special for you?"
"Unless you count intimacy issues and an NTR fetish, I can't say that he did." She looks over Rei's shoulders, notices what appears to be a white version of Nadia crossing the street. More importantly, she notices that nobody seems to be driving the moped.
"Uh, Ayanami?"
"Yes, Shikinami-san?"
"Who's driving?"
The white Nadia stares down his impending doom wide eyed and slack jawed. It's not every day you see two girls with technicolor hair barreling down the street in a scooter that's doing 120 in a 30 zone.
It's also not every day you get run down by said sight.
---
"Oh Christ, we killed the Sub Commander's kid," Asuka moans, palming face.
"I don't think this is the Sub Commander's," Rei says, poking the shota corpse with her Fender Squire Bass, NERV standard issue. "Although the resemblance is striking. Perhaps he's a clone, like me?"
"A what?"
Rei gives a coy smile, "Oh, nothing." She rifles through the kid's pockets; all he has are packets of gum, some loose change, a miniature replica of the Lance of Longinus; standard stuff. She hits paydirt with his wallet, which she immediately flips open.
"Hard up for money again, eh Wondergirl?" Asuka smirks, arms crossed, leaning back on the moped as if telling the entire world to deal with it.
"PVC figurines are expensive," she mutters, pulling out a few bills. She goes to slide the wallet back into the unconscious kid's pocket, but a glance at something gives her pause. "Shikinami-san," she hooks a finger, "come here."
"What's up?" Rei shows her what caught her eye, a school ID. "Oh crap. We didn't kill the Sub Commander's kid..."
Tokyo-3 Prefectural High School Student Shinji Ikari begins foaming at the mouth, seemingly quite dead.
"Well, I guess I'm an only child now, unless you know CPR."
