Evangelion: Children of Men
Home Log 3
Several minutes pass, and as many sheets of paper end up in the wastebasket beside her, pristine except for a few bare letters beneath the NERV logo in the upper corner and the crumpling she gives each one before tossing it in. After a few more tries to start the letter, she slowly leans back and just stares at the ceiling, unblinking. Sure, she’d been upset, almost as upset as that night in the hospital after Tahriel. But she hadn’t jumped out of bed and tried to punch him when he showed up to talk to her then, had she? Even though she felt like shit for the exact same reasons.
She’d failed and the brunt of the results from it fell on someone else. If it had been real, Daas and Spencer would be gone, because she failed to plan right and failed to perform good enough. The city would have been overrun far before even her and Nadya entered the access point, let alone reached the Evangelion pens and launched. She’d failed in every way that could have mattered in such a situation. Fucked up despite such a situation being what she’d been trained for more than half her life.
It’d been a long time since she’d felt that shaken, though. Even after the Tahriel attack it was just… a numb sort of disgust. This was intense, something she couldn’t push aside and shove down right away. “S’probably the reason for that, then.”
Her voice is flat in the quiet room, as she slowly grabs another piece of paper and the pen once more. Morgan didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d give a shit about a piece of physical paper instead of an email, after all. She could write that up later on the laptop. There were other things that would probably be more secure as a solid piece of paper in the locking drawer of her desk than on the same computer system as those stupid computers, though. Even this time there’s several false starts and more crumpled paper in the bin, before she finally settles on just writing it out.
Eventually, however, there’s a knock at the door. She quickly folds the sheet several times and tosses it into the secure cabinet portion of the desk and locks it, before heading over and opening the door a crack to see who it was, peeking out with one eye. “Yes?”