cw: medical imagery, child mistreatment, implications of self-harm
[
Memory 01
The scene is a hospital room without windows and the harsh fluorescents make the white floors and walls difficult to look at. In a corner there is a bookshelf with a few books in English, German, and Japanese. At the far end, a small piano, that seems out of place in the room.

A small boy, wearing hospital pajamas sits in the middle, alone in the sterile room. He has a feeding tube in his nose and an IV port attached to his wrist. It is, of course, Kaworu Nagisa, reading a book… a story about a group of friends who explore a mountain. He is trying to understand why he, also a boy, does not have any friends, nor can he explore a mountain.

The door opens and a group of scientists enter the room. “We’re doing further sync tests today. Seeing how he interacts with the Simulation Bodies with increased plug depth. Come, Tabris.” They move to shuffle him out, for the first time, he resists a little.

“Why don’t I have friends? The children book have friends. And go to school. And do sport.”

One of the scientists helps him into a wheelchair, connecting him to a IV. “Because you are not a normal child. You were created. Unlike everyone else, you have purpose.”

As he is wheeled away, the older Kaworu watches, expression sullen.

Memory 02.
It’s the same room. Though the books have shifted to be novels fitting for older teenagers and the piano is worn instead of new. In the center is a hospital bed, where Kaworu Nagisa currently sits. Or more accurately, where he’s currently restrained. He has bandages around his forehead and around his arms, from wrist to elbow. An odd spear, about a meter long, is lodged into his chest where his heart is. Oddly, he doesn’t seem to react like it’s causing him pain, though his wrists are shackled to the bed, preventing its removal.

An old man stands at his bedside, though it’s clear from the expressions both wear that neither are particularly pleased to be conversing.

“This insolence is tiring, Tabris. . Your purpose is to return the soul housed within you to its original body. Nor is your purpose to destroy facilities when you are displeased.”

Kaworu counters like he’s trying to get the upper hand, his lips curling into a sneer. What are you going to do about it? Kill me?”

“If necessary. We have found ways to make you replaceable.” The old man says, voice flat, disinterested in the boy in front of him. On the other hand, the color drains from Kaworu’s face. “If you are tired of this, then fulfill the destiny that you created for, and your burdened existence will cease. You already know it’s the only way.” The man departs without another word.]

[The idea of trapping animals is rather rudimentary to Kaworu and he displays little interest them, however, as a Darkblood, that means others may display interest in him.

And let’s be honest, he’s kind of a punchable little shit.

He’ll pass by a trap with someone in it, maybe a vile or a coldblood and smirk a little bit at their predicament. Especially if they seem inclined to attack him.]

What you think I set this trap on you? It wasn’t.

[Probably.]

[Kaworu is a naïve, dummy on a good day but to make matters worse, he’s a naïve, dummy from a world where winter no longer exists and Japan exists in the eternal heat of the summer.

So naturally, he’s walking around in his short-sleeved school unform. He’s… cold but he doesn’t really seem to understand what that feeling is. It seems to eb and flow, conflicting with his bizarre biology.

Eventually, his arms become covered in bruises and it’s hard to move his fingers. Hmm.

He examines his hand for a bit before shoving in the face of some poor passing stranger.]

Is this what’s supposed to happen in the cold?

((As always, hit me up if you want any closed prompts or anything! Feel free to PM or hit me up on plurk (mythal) or discord (Trevelyan#6066 or I am in the Deer Channel)