Subject: [FFML] [ffml][fanfic][NGE][SI] I Was a Teenage Dummy Plug
From: "Logan Goodhue" <yobxof2000@hotmail.com>
Date: 4/14/2004, 11:42 PM
To: ffml@anifics.com


Hello, all, just thought I'd put this up on the list. Mainly because two of 
the sites I'd been posting on got "h4x0r3d." Well, such is life.

I Was a Teenage Dummy Plug
Part One: Like an Angel Without a Sense of Fashion
A Neon Genesis Evangelion fanfic by Logan J. Goodhue
*** Disclaimer***
Neon Genesis Evangelion is � and " GAINAX, et al.
This story is for nonprofit entertainment only.
First Version, 03NOV2002 : Minor revision, 15NOV2002
******
Like an Angel Without a Sense of Fashion

	I woke to the smell of blood.

	Slowly, I opened my eyes and realized I was living almost every adolescent 
boy's dream. I was surrounded by dozens of naked, beautiful girls. They were 
all identical. Then, I got a better look and almost screamed.

	Each girl was pale and well formed, with short, unruly blue hair and empty, 
red eyes. Except for their vapid, glassy smiles, they were dead ringers for 
Rei Ayanami.

	Taking a couple of deep breaths, and trying not to freak out, I realized I 
was in LCL. In my rattled state of mind I almost didn't notice that I was 
floating in warm liquid and breathing it.  I looked all around me, trying to 
figure out how I wound up in the room of Gauf. Or in the world of Neon 
Genesis Evangelion, for that matter. About that time, several sensations 
were beginning to register. First, I was naked. Second, my arms were now 
slender and hairless. Next, my wandering field of vision finally fixed on my 
reflection in a nearby window. Then, I screamed.

	I was a dead ringer for Rei Ayanami, too.

	I watched the bubbles floating from my mouth and tried not to 
hyperventilate. I prayed that this was all a dream, or maybe some god-awful 
fanfic that was so well written that . . . No, I had to deal with this as 
though it were real.  My first order of business was to get out of the 
damned tank and get some clothes on. Praying there was an exit that way, I 
swam upwards. I was never so glad as when I found the ladder out of the 
tank. Looking around, I noticed a lot of things that were never shown in 
Evangelion. The top of this tank, for starters. I bent over the rim and 
began coughing out LCL. Recycled institutional air never tasted so good.

	Getting unsteadily to my feet and clutching at a handrail, I began walking 
towards a staircase. My balance was all hosed over, and my feet were 
incredibly sensitive. It was understandable, really. This body had never 
walked before.  I distantly noticed shapes in the darkness that could have 
been the "EVA Graveyard" as I struggled. By the time I reached the bottom, I 
had managed to get somewhat used to my new center of balance, so I wasn't 
lurching about like a drunk con-goer heading to his fifth room party. My 
feet still hurt, though. Those steel mesh floors were murder. With a sinking 
feeling in my stomach, I realized the pain meant this wasn't a dream.

	I paused and looked through the doorway beside me at the tank full of Rei 
clones and shuddered. The scene in episode twenty-three where Ritsuko 
destroyed them all had always given me the creeps. Thinking on that as I 
sought out some clothes, I realized that I was smack in the middle of the 
series. It was obviously before the twenty-third episode, but when? I 
reached the "hospital" room near the elevator and began searching cabinets.

	My search had barely lasted five minutes before I hit pay dirt. I found a 
veritable cornucopia of clothing. Unfortunately, it was all plug suits, 
school uniforms, and underwear. While I was hesitant to wear a skirt, there 
was no way in Hell I was going to wear the fetish gear, er, plug suit right 
now. At least I was sure everything was going to fit. Shame and 
embarrassment were raging through me as I put on the undergarments, 
struggling with the brassiere. I was almost certain someone would point and 
laugh at me. After all, my self image was still of an overweight, hairy, 
male otaku. Sure, I had read plenty of Ranma � fan fiction, so I was dealing 
with my gender change a little better than I might have otherwise, but it 
was still playing havoc with my sanity. Why not? If I was stuck in this 
world, I might as well fit in. Angst, pathos, and a therapist bill in six 
digits were par for the course around here.

	I grabbed a blouse and put it on. The buttons threw me for a second, being 
on the wrong side of the closure, but I dealt with it. The jumper followed, 
then the socks and shoes. I had some trouble with the red tie, but after a 
little work, I had a presentable bow. I thought. I looked for a mirror, and 
found one in a corner. I gazed into it and gasped in shock. I was beautiful. 
I peered closer and examined my face. It was almost perfectly symmetrical, 
with azure locks framing it. My now alizarin eyes had a depth to them that 
had been missing in the other clones in the tank. The eyes are the windows 
to the soul, after all.

	"Well, kid," I said to myself, testing my voice, "this is my body for the 
foreseeable future. I may as well get used to it." I sounded a little off, 
not quite what I was expecting. I thought a bit and tried something else. I 
lowered my voice and spoke gruffly, "Nani sore? Kawaiikunee otemba!" That 
was familiar, so I tried to be giddily cheerful. "Shogun? Shogun! Shogun! 
Shooo-gun!  . . . Nani?" That was what was wrong. I had spoken in English 
and I hadn't sounded like Amanda Winn Lee. I sounded like Megumi 
Hayashibara. Well, that was good to know. I had a goofy grin plastered to my 
face. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and froze. 'Okay,' I 
thought. 'Note to self: goofy grin looks weird on Rei Ayanami. Not bad, just 
weird.'

	Schooling my features into a more "Mona Lisa" look, I checked my reflection 
again. Assured that I didn't look stupid, I began the trek through Terminal 
Dogma to the rest of the geofront.

	Have I mentioned yet how much the elevator rides suck? They're incredibly 
long and boring, especially here in the high-security parts . . . of . . . 
NERV.

	Damn.

	I had probably tripped dozens of security sensors just waking up, and here 
I was, being a good little boy, er, girl, and going to meet the nice 
security patrol. I probably only had the three minutes remaining in this 
trip for my life. Unless, of course, their security was so bollixed up that 
it only prevented access to Terminal Dogma and not access from it.

	'Thank God for small miracles,' I thought. The elevator door opened and I 
was both relieved and disappointed by the distinct lack of gun-toting, 
faceless lackeys. Hoping my new lucky streak would continue, I began 
wandering the hallways.

	While having seen all twenty-six episodes and the three movies of 
Evangelion had helped me navigate Terminal Dogma, the rest of this place was 
a maze. Ten minute of aimless wandering later, I found a main line elevator, 
and stood in shock. While most of the signs were bilingual, Japanese and 
English, I had just read the kanji and understood it. This was far too 
convenient. It also probably meant that if I ran into any of the base 
personnel I'd understand their spoken Japanese. Would I be able to speak it? 
I wouldn't know until I had to do it. If I tried now, I'd only use phrases I 
already knew. Somehow, I didn't think emphatically telling someone that I 
was a cheese head from Osaka was going to increase my chances of survival. 
Sighing softly, I pushed the "up" button and waited.

	Maybe it was just the "costume effect" at work, but I found myself standing 
still, head downcast, with my hands clasped in front of me. From the 
"Shucks, Howdy, ya varmint" attitude I had in a cowboy hat, to the time I 
had stared down a bully dressed as Batman, whenever I had worn a costume, my 
role had always seeped in a little. This was the first time it was affecting 
me this much, though. It could have been that this was the first time the 
costume was more than just cloth and plastic approximating a fictional 
character. I mean, I was wearing exactly what my "character" would, from the 
skin out. Not only was I wearing her skirt, but I was wearing her genes, 
too.

	Any worries I may have had of being subsumed by an emotionless "Rei 
persona" were quashed by that horrid pun. I stifled a chuckle as the 
elevator doors opened. Gladly noting the empty car, I stepped in. Looking at 
the control panel, I realized I wasn't going to exit the geofront directly. 
It made sense. A sensitive military installation like this wasn't going to 
allow John Q. Public to walk in the lobby, then to an elevator bank direct 
to the goodies. Most likely, I was going to pull a Misato and get completely 
lost. Making my decision, I pushed the button for the uppermost level the 
elevator would reach. I leaned back and let the strains of a Muzak� version 
of "Fly Me to the Moon" wash over me as the car rose.

	I tensed as I saw floor buttons light up. I wasn't going to have this car 
to myself for much longer. I calmed myself and tried to look off into space 
as the car slowed. The doors opened and two technicians climbed aboard. They 
spared me a glance, then continued their conversation.

	"So, Kanzaki, how much did you lose on the Swallows?" one asked.

	"Only five thousand yen, Oeda," Kanzaki said, waving it off. "I never 
expected the Hanshin Tigers to pull off a ten-run, come from behind victory 
in the bottom of the ninth like that." I followed their conversation easily, 
even though it was in Japanese. I was even able to discern their regional 
accents. Oeda seemed to be from Okinawa, and Kanzaki seemed to be from 
Hokkaido. They continued chatting for about twenty floors, and then got off.

	I was beginning to worry. Why was I able to understand Japanese? Before all 
this happened, I only knew enough to find someone who spoke English, and 
order in a restaurant. I could only discern a Kansai accent if someone said, 
"Thank y'all." I blinked as I realized that I was thinking in Japanese. I 
was sure my expression of surprise would have seemed comical if anyone had 
been there to see it. I checked the button panel and the floor display again 
and noticed I'd have some more company soon. The car slowed to a stop, and I 
could hear voices outside the doors as they opened.

	"--Nji, you idiot!" said a feminine voice with a trace of a German accent. 
"Why couldn't you have told me you expected we couldn't go on the trip?" I 
looked up and watched Asuka pull Shinji into the car. She was glaring 
intently at him, so she hadn't yet noticed me.

	"B-But, Asuka," Shinji stammered. "It only makes sense that . . ." His 
shoulders slumped in defeat. "Misato already explained . . ." He looked 
around the car, unable to look Asuka in the eye. Of course, he spotted me. 
"Oh! Ayanami! Good morning."

	"Good morning," I said softly, "Pilot Ikari, Pilot Sohryu." I decided to 
keep in character to prevent any suspicion.

	"Oh, great!" Asuka muttered as she whirled around and faced me. "It's 
Wonder Girl." She fidgeted with a shopping bag in one hand. I gazed briefly 
at each of them, and then stared at the door. I heard her mutter darkly in 
German. I was appalled to realize my newfound proficiency with Japanese 
extended to German as well. I never knew how colorfully she could swear.

	"Ich spreche nur wenig Deutsch," I said, "aber Ich versteht es." I knew I 
had made a few mistakes in verb conjugation and pronunciation, but it was 
worth it to see her face when I told her that I had understood her little 
stream of invective. Shinji was surprised as well, but he recovered nicely.

	"Are you going to the pool as well, Ayanami?" he asked.

	"Yes," I said. "I have been ordered to maintain my physical fitness through 
a regimen of swimming. I shall do as I have been ordered." I still 
maintained an eye lock on the floor indicator.

	"Well," Asuka said in exasperation, "Aren't you the good little soldier? 
Don't you ever have any fun in your spare time?"

	"If I am ordered to," I said, struggling to keep my face serene, "I will." 
She was flabbergasted, and I noticed out the corner of my eye that Shinji 
had a concerned look on his face.

	"Ayanami . . ." he said sadly. It was becoming more and more difficult to 
stay in character. I wanted to get in an argument with Asuka and prove I 
wasn't an emotionless doll. I wanted to laugh out loud at the monumental 
prank I was pulling on them. I wanted to warn them about the upcoming Angel 
attacks. I wanted to find out why the Hell I was here in the first place.

	The elevator stopped, and we got out. We walked down the hall, and I 
surreptitiously checked the signs and floor maps, so I would know how to get 
around. Arriving at the pool, Shinji left us and sat down at a poolside 
table. I could see him opening his book bag and beginning to do his 
homework. With slight hesitation, I followed Asuka into the girls' locker 
room. She headed for her locker, and I began looking for Rei's. I scanned 
each locker's nametag as I walked rapidly along. I was so intent on the 
lockers, I couldn't avoid bumping into someone.

	"I'm terribly sorry," I began and gasped in shock as I realized whom I had 
bumped into. I raised my view from her white, one-piece swimsuit to look her 
in the eyes. Red eyes met red.

	"Who are you?" Rei asked.

---more to come---

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