Elfen High 2: Gotterdammerung

[Nude East Ireland]

There was a student at Elfen High, whose name was Elizabeth.

She wasn't particularly famous or well-known, and preferred to keep quiet most of the time. She was a practicing pyrokinetic, but had a lot to learn. For the most part, she wasn't really strong or smart. She was able to attend because her parents had gotten a large sum of money from some unknown benefactor, who had noticed their plight and had given pity on them. She always wondered who this man was, and why he cared so much. But it wasn't the main focus of her everyday life.

She wandered down the hall, entering the nurse's office. She sighed, and leaned against a wall. "Anybody here?" she asked, not seeing anybody in the waiting room.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

After barely managing to react in time and saving the team from the brink of death along with Calliel, Alastor let his magic shield fade, and looked all around himself, at the destruction that the explosions had brought upon the slaves of the Fae. Body parts both angelic and dwarfen were strewn all across the ground, which had been painted crimson. There, amidst the mess, he saw a mangled angelic face of blue eyes. And behind, he also saw the broken body of wounded ISSR soldier from before.

And at all of this, he simply let out a dark chuckle.

"You're having a lot of work lately, aren't you?" He thought grimly as he continued to observe the mess with the vaguest sense of nostalgia, though he was distracted from his thoughts when Daniel started barking out orders.

"I am unharmed, priest." Alasor said simply after hearing out his words, and then recharged the magic battery of his weapon while waiting for Sisitu to report the tikbalang's discoveries and for the rest of Team Two to get ready.

[Erinkita]

Sisitu was lost amid the sound and fury. The sounds of a dozen different weapons assaulted her ears, mingled with the screams of the living and the dying. She lost track of her kappa and her cockatrices. Behind her wall of ISSR agents, she could barely see the battle. She unloaded freezing crossbow bolts through the gaps between them. Perhaps she hit some of them, perhaps not. Inside her war chest, her baby silently raged. A tall armoured form in front of her collapsed. For a moment she glimpsed blue eyes and a thick black beard at her own eye level before the bulky dwarf slammed into her and knocked her to the ground. She saw him raise a hammer over his head, ready to bring it down. And then she was viewing the scene from behind, herwebbed hands holding a wakizashi. The enchanted blade cut through the dwarf's barrell chest like butter. His entire top half flopped to the ground and Sisitu scrambled desperately to her feet. She didn't remember consciously using the kappa, but she had obviously done so. Five thousand years of trying to die and her survival instincts were still strong.

She got her bearings in time to hear Andreas calling to fall back. She was more than eager to obey. Angels and humans jostled her to the back of the group. They knew who the weak link was. The kappa looked up at her without emotion. Its brother was dead. She didn't feel it die, but it was gone now. She was surprised to feel sorrowful about that. This creature had done enough. She placed a hand on its head and dismissed it. It faded from this world with a wet squelch.
Daniel returned soon after, soaked in blood and viscera. A priest, she reminded herself, like she used to be. A long life makes killers of us all.
She did as he intructed and stretched out her mind to the tikbalang. It was sitting cross-legged on the border of a pit, looking down at...
"It's found what looks like a diamond," she said "It glows blue. There's definitely something magical about it. It looks like they were excavating the area looking for it."

[Erinkita]

There was a student at Elfen High, whose name was Elizabeth.

She wasn't particularly famous or well-known, and preferred to keep quiet most of the time. She was a practicing pyrokinetic, but had a lot to learn. For the most part, she wasn't really strong or smart. She was able to attend because her parents had gotten a large sum of money from some unknown benefactor, who had noticed their plight and had given pity on them. She always wondered who this man was, and why he cared so much. But it wasn't the main focus of her everyday life.

She wandered down the hall, entering the nurse's office. She sighed, and leaned against a wall. "Anybody here?" she asked, not seeing anybody in the waiting room.

"Down here," Jillybean said from above Elizabeth's head.

The clown girl had arrived at Elfen High this morning, unpacked her things, and attended a very interesting history class. Before dropping her off, Gramma Huggs had told her to report to the nurse's office regularly. Uncle Busy's attack had almost killed her. If they hadn't been one hopstep away from Illitria, home of the greatest medical technology in the multiverse, she might have died anyway. Her body was now home to a colony of nanobots designed to repair her tissues. Jillybean felt fine, but apparently they weren't quite done. She had dutifully reported to the waiting room when she noticed the thick metal rafters in the ceiling. Obviously she had no choice but the climb up there and hang by her knees.

"You're upside-down," she commented to the other girl, her skirt up around her waist exposing her red and white striped leggings. "If you went outside, you might fall forever."

[Nude East Ireland]

There was a student at Elfen High, whose name was Elizabeth.

She wasn't particularly famous or well-known, and preferred to keep quiet most of the time. She was a practicing pyrokinetic, but had a lot to learn. For the most part, she wasn't really strong or smart. She was able to attend because her parents had gotten a large sum of money from some unknown benefactor, who had noticed their plight and had given pity on them. She always wondered who this man was, and why he cared so much. But it wasn't the main focus of her everyday life.

She wandered down the hall, entering the nurse's office. She sighed, and leaned against a wall. "Anybody here?" she asked, not seeing anybody in the waiting room.

"Down here," Jillybean said from above Elizabeth's head.

The clown girl had arrived at Elfen High this morning, unpacked her things, and attended a very interesting history class. Before dropping her off, Gramma Huggs had told her to report to the nurse's office regularly. Uncle Busy's attack had almost killed her. If they hadn't been one hopstep away from Illitria, home of the greatest medical technology in the multiverse, she might have died anyway. Her body was now home to a colony of nanobots designed to repair her tissues. Jillybean felt fine, but apparently they weren't quite done. She had dutifully reported to the waiting room when she noticed the thick metal rafters in the ceiling. Obviously she had no choice but the climb up there and hang by her knees.

"You're upside-down," she commented to the other girl, her skirt up around her waist exposing her red and white striped leggings. "If you went outside, you might fall forever."

"Oh," Elizabeth replied. "Actually... I think you're upside-down. You're hanging from the ceiling."

[Erinkita]

Jillybean grinned at Elizabeth, grabbed the bram with her hands, flipped her body, and landed lightly on her feet.
"Depends on your perspective, I guess. Gravity seems to think up is that way and down is this way. But what does it know? Fundamental forces don't even have brains." She grabbed Elizabeth's hand in both of hers and shook exuberantly. "My name's Jillybean. It's my first day here. Who are you?"

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Sisitu was lost amid the sound and fury. The sounds of a dozen different weapons assaulted her ears, mingled with the screams of the living and the dying. She lost track of her kappa and her cockatrices. Behind her wall of ISSR agents, she could barely see the battle. She unloaded freezing crossbow bolts through the gaps between them. Perhaps she hit some of them, perhaps not. Inside her war chest, her baby silently raged. A tall armoured form in front of her collapsed. For a moment she glimpsed blue eyes and a thick black beard at her own eye level before the bulky dwarf slammed into her and knocked her to the ground. She saw him raise a hammer over his head, ready to bring it down. And then she was viewing the scene from behind, herwebbed hands holding a wakizashi. The enchanted blade cut through the dwarf's barrell chest like butter. His entire top half flopped to the ground and Sisitu scrambled desperately to her feet. She didn't remember consciously using the kappa, but she had obviously done so. Five thousand years of trying to die and her survival instincts were still strong.

She got her bearings in time to hear Andreas calling to fall back. She was more than eager to obey. Angels and humans jostled her to the back of the group. They knew who the weak link was. The kappa looked up at her without emotion. Its brother was dead. She didn't feel it die, but it was gone now. She was surprised to feel sorrowful about that. This creature had done enough. She placed a hand on its head and dismissed it. It faded from this world with a wet squelch.
Daniel returned soon after, soaked in blood and viscera. A priest, she reminded herself, like she used to be. A long life makes killers of us all.
She did as he intructed and stretched out her mind to the tikbalang. It was sitting cross-legged on the border of a pit, looking down at...
"It's found what looks like a diamond," she said "It glows blue. There's definitely something magical about it. It looks like they were excavating the area looking for it."

"Then we shall get it." Horn replied as Gabriel and David went off to retrieve Charles' corpse. Nguni seemed like she was going to join them, but Gabriel sternly told her to stay back in Portuguese, like a parent to his child. The Angolan girl had seemed to reluctantly agree- she had quite liked Charles and seemed somewhat hit by his death.

"We need to get out of here, now," Daniel growled. The priest looked like some kind of horrific monster; he was drenched in blood from head to foot, dripping with it, leaving a trail of gore in his wake. None of it was his. In a swift, practiced motion, Daniel reloaded his rifle and pistol. For a moment, he felt an agonizing weight on his heart. I have done murder this day. Murder such as I hoped never to do again. And in spite of it all, a good man still died on my watch. The priest closed his eyes. Later. I'll grieve for all of this senseless waste - but later. For now, these people still need me.

Daniel walked quickly down the line. "I need to know right now if anyone is scratched, bitten, wounded. If anyone is feeling strange, light-headed, or hearing voices. We leave no one behind, but we don't take risks, either." The priest turned to Sisitu. "If your friend has found anything useful, I need to know about it right now. Unless the key to preventing Armageddon is on this moon, then we're leaving while we still can. We've learned enough, and we're dead if we stay." Daniel sighed. "But if there's something more important than all of our lives at stake here, then we have to go and get it."

With a swift turn, the priest addressed the ISSR team. "Okay. Now. Gabriel, you take Avery, Akil, Edward, Jon, Dr. Horn, and Orv. I need to know that our line of retreat is open, so your team needs to secure the tunnel and the church, and call in for immediate extraction. The shuttle should land at the courtyard outside Peter Church. Team two is me, Sisitu, Alastor, Alexandria, Nguni, Adam, and David. If the tiklabang turns something up, then we're going to go retrieve it. We're going to come running hell for leather for extraction immediately thereafter, so the shuttle needs to be waiting and team one needs to be ready to cover us." Daniel chambered a round into his rifle, the ratcheting sound loud in the tunnel. "Gabriel," he added quietly, "try to retrieve Charles' body." Daniel nodded briefly. "No one gets left behind."

Gabriel dragged the remains of the corpse back, mostly the head and the torso. The head was surprisingly unharmed- Charles' eyes were wide open, but Gabriel shut them with his fingers. "He's still alive." Gabriel noted. "Not in this body, obviously. But his second life is somewhere in Hell. Let's hope it ended up in a safe location."

"Alright priest, I'll take this body and the others back to the church. You head off to get this diamond." he said, his team loading up and jogging off.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Crowley sat quietly in the bar for a while. He gave Dionysus a nod and a tip for his help before walking back through the tunnels into his school. He paused briefly in the tunnel for once, just sitting down and taking a few breaths.

Goddammit. He knew that seeing Dionysus was a bad idea. Not because the god didn't give good advice- he gave wonderful advice- but because Crowley realised he had just doomed his friend, as he doomed almost everyone he had come into contact with.

Fixban. Damien. Lewis. Richard. Calhoun. Minh. Leah.

Crowley realised he very desperately needed one more drink, one more goddamn drink. Just one fucking drink.

Minh sighed. "I-I just- I...I've seen so many things go wrong. My family, my childhood, I...I just want something to go right for once. Just once. I'm staying with you until the very end, Crowley. Until the very end."

No. No, fuck that. He wouldn't disrespect that man's memory this way. He didn't have the right to do that. What the fuck was he thinking, considering that he could ignore the sacrifices made and just leave?

"Finally, you're going to be a goddamn man and stop crying. You're a godawful human being, and I would have no qualms about killing ye' right now. But Elfen High needs ye'. You're, through some divine assholery, the only thing standing between this school and the hundreds of innocents, and Nylara, who have put their lives in your grubby hands. No more disappearing. No more mourning. No more bullshit. Ye' have a job to do, pussy."

"One more fucking run." Crowley growled to himself. "Just one more fucking run."

Then he paused, remembering Rosalind. Remembering Black and White. Then his energy collapsed out of him. He was expected to save the world. Hah. Saving the world. Sanchez could do a better job of that. Fuck, Calhoun could have done a better job of that. Lewis. Damien. Minh. He was not the man for this job at all.

Crowley couldn't save this school.

He couldn't even save one little girl from her own thoughts.

Almost unconsciously, Crowley felt a bottle of whiskey materialise in his hands as he went off in another direction down the tunnels. He needed some time and a beer. Maybe it would make sense here in the darkness, away from the sun. The sun would just illuminate his mistakes.

Here in the cold darkness, Crowley wouldn't even see himself, the biggest mistake.

What Crowley saw instead was a woman in a low-cut and short red dress.

Let me correct myself - what Crowley saw a woman in a low-cut and short red dress's breasts.

She was a tall woman, which is a polite way of saying that her legs were ripped from a Humphrey Bogart movie. She was curvacious - not in a cartoonish way, but the exact right size in all of her, ahem, "features" to allure. She had skin as white as alabaster - not as white as snow, that was Disney movie beauty. She had long raven locks that went down to her shoulders. She wore the exact right amount of lipstick, or perhaps her lips were simply the vivid shade of red that reminded Crowley of a different kind of lips. She had a twinkle in her eyes, which changed color with Crowley's preferences. She had a coy smile that suggested a challenge, almost. She swayed when she walked, her heels tapping against the pavement like the rhythmic beat of an excited heart. She winked at the headmaster.

He recognized her instantly. Everyone did, somewhere in their minds, but Crowley was one of the few who could give her a name.

"Aleister Crowley," Lust cooed, "How long it has been. Too long."

Crowley reacted. Violently.

A burst of flame emitted from his body and flew out as a giant fireball around him, burning everything within a dozen metres of him. Plants and animals who had the misfortune of being in this distance found their lifespans drastically reduced, and Lust was undoubtedly set aflame.

Of course, regeneration would help, and there was the fact that it did not seem at all that Crowley's heart was in it right now. He was tired and worn, not particularly caring to fight except out of instinct. After a few seconds, he shut off the flame. "Forget it." he sighed, waving. "Sit down, what do you want?" he asked, the flames in the tunnel now lighting it as he looked at the ground and drank from his bottle, which had remained unharmed.

[Nationstatelandsville]

What Crowley saw instead was a woman in a low-cut and short red dress.

Let me correct myself - what Crowley saw a woman in a low-cut and short red dress's breasts.

She was a tall woman, which is a polite way of saying that her legs were ripped from a Humphrey Bogart movie. She was curvacious - not in a cartoonish way, but the exact right size in all of her, ahem, "features" to allure. She had skin as white as alabaster - not as white as snow, that was Disney movie beauty. She had long raven locks that went down to her shoulders. She wore the exact right amount of lipstick, or perhaps her lips were simply the vivid shade of red that reminded Crowley of a different kind of lips. She had a twinkle in her eyes, which changed color with Crowley's preferences. She had a coy smile that suggested a challenge, almost. She swayed when she walked, her heels tapping against the pavement like the rhythmic beat of an excited heart. She winked at the headmaster.

He recognized her instantly. Everyone did, somewhere in their minds, but Crowley was one of the few who could give her a name.

"Aleister Crowley," Lust cooed, "How long it has been. Too long."

Crowley reacted. Violently.

A burst of flame emitted from his body and flew out as a giant fireball around him, burning everything within a dozen metres of him. Plants and animals who had the misfortune of being in this distance found their lifespans drastically reduced, and Lust was undoubtedly set aflame.

Of course, regeneration would help, and there was the fact that it did not seem at all that Crowley's heart was in it right now. He was tired and worn, not particularly caring to fight except out of instinct. After a few seconds, he shut off the flame. "Forget it." he sighed, waving. "Sit down, what do you want?" he asked, the flames in the tunnel now lighting it as he looked at the ground and drank from his bottle, which had remained unharmed.

Rather than burn, Lust simply allowed her dress to dissolve into some very distracting black lingerie. She slithered up to him, her lips pursing.

"Oh, I just want to see what's wrong, dear," she said comfortingly, wrapping her arm around Crowley's shoulder, "We go hand-in-hand, you know. I can feel when you're down, we all."

She kissed him on the cheek.

"You were always my favorite," she added.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Parnell drew his eyebrows together. Not quite frowning, but...

...this was odd. He backed away slowly. In his fearful state, his accent has begun to lapse into his native Appalachian mode of speech rather than the more neutral voice that had developed over his years in England. He muttered, "Okay, I can see fetch ain't your favorite game."

Cerberus' middle head barred its teeth in a facsimile of an eager grin, licking its lips. With a cry, it rushed at Parnell with speed that can only be described as "bullshit", spitting small bursts of blue flame at its pray as it ran. After a moment, it leaped into the air, attempting to tackle Parnell, swatting at him with its paws while in the air.

The sound of a helicopter overhead grew in intensity.

M.T. closed the book, not bothering to mark his place.

"I really would," he said, "recommend checking out that book, in that case. I do believe they have it as an audio-book now; for all I know it's been turned into a motion picture. It appears that the modern method of parenting does not include teaching respect to one's elders. Such flippancy is unbecoming for one of so few years."

He flexed his hands - clawlike and bony, with only a thin film of leathery skin covering them, the color of snow. He put the book down on a table and stared at the young demon. M.T.'s eyes were glowing red embers set into abyssal pools of darkness.

"Oh, you look like my mother," Lewis Jameson rolled his eyes, "Can you point me to Mr. Crowley's office? I need to check in still."

Sanchez nodded. "You are correct, it is. We generally do so and have been doing so for the last ten years, keeping the world stable and so on. But-" Sanchez raised a finger. "This is where Elfen High has a personal stake. Allow me to explain. We have been experimenting with advanced technology, primarily related to space. This has been in order to help perfect and build our infant colonies on the Moon and the even smaller one we will build soon on Mars. Crowley helped foot the bill, D and Daisuke helped to design. And Raphael agreed to have the Armenio moon in Hell be a test subject in exchange for advanced weapons technology. Are you aware of the events currently unfolding on Armenio?"

"Armenio?" Aziraphale said, slipping into "living encyclopedia" mode, "Heavensgate moon. Not much of a history, recent colony, to my understand. There are many old legends that state Abbadon's empire saw a voyage there a top a mighty qilin - one of the few demon mythological creatures to cross over into humanity's knowledge, to my understanding, though it did mutate quite a bit - which is an impossible notion, as everyone knows qilins cannot breathe in space and are terrified of the moons, anyways. What's your point, Lord Rick Sanchez?"

"We have sent a few of your Elfen High friends there, including Calliel, to investigate. Our messages cannot break past some kind of magical barrier there, and so we do not know their current situation. However, from our viewpoint, they have been missing for two days. But that's a unrelated point. I brought it up as a side note. Here, we saw something similar happening. The research lab where we had been studying how to perfect our space technology went dark for a few minutes, unable to be entered, and then there was an explosion. When we went in and saw the wreckage, it seemed like it had been there for a dozen years rather than a dozen minutes. Something does not want us to get further in our space technology. And we want you guys-" he glanced at them. "To help us see what's happening. First- you people tend to do some unorthrodox things. Second, one of our mages has found what can open up to a portal where we might get answers. We aren't entirely sure where it leads. But we're throwing you into it."

[Nude East Ireland]

Jillybean grinned at Elizabeth, grabbed the bram with her hands, flipped her body, and landed lightly on her feet.
"Depends on your perspective, I guess. Gravity seems to think up is that way and down is this why. But what does it know? Fundamental forces don't even have brains." She grabbed Elizabeth's hand in both of hers and shook exuberantly. "My name's Jillybean. It's my first day here. Who are you?"

"I'm Elizabeth Müller," she replied, quietly. "It's my second year here."

[Erinkita]

Jillybean glanced around the empty waiting room for something to do. Disappointed with her options, she collapsed backwards into one of the old armchairs and began tapping the floor with her feet to the tune of a nursery ryme she could only half remember.
"Why are you in the nurse's office, Elizabeth Müller?" she asked.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Crowley reacted. Violently.

A burst of flame emitted from his body and flew out as a giant fireball around him, burning everything within a dozen metres of him. Plants and animals who had the misfortune of being in this distance found their lifespans drastically reduced, and Lust was undoubtedly set aflame.

Of course, regeneration would help, and there was the fact that it did not seem at all that Crowley's heart was in it right now. He was tired and worn, not particularly caring to fight except out of instinct. After a few seconds, he shut off the flame. "Forget it." he sighed, waving. "Sit down, what do you want?" he asked, the flames in the tunnel now lighting it as he looked at the ground and drank from his bottle, which had remained unharmed.

Rather than burn, Lust simply allowed her dress to dissolve into some very distracting black lingerie. She slithered up to him, her lips pursing.

"Oh, I just want to see what's wrong, dear," she said comfortingly, wrapping her arm around Crowley's shoulder, "We go hand-in-hand, you know. I can feel when you're down, we all."

She kissed him on the cheek.

"You were always my favorite," she added.

Crowley did not particularly seem to give a damn about Lust at the moment, which was rather a surprise considering it was Crowley. He was, however, drinking his whiskey cup- which notably kept refilling, so it never actually went down.

"What on Earth do you want right now, Lust?" he repeated, his hands seeming to twitch and not making a grab for the demon's considerable assets. Instead, they seemed to be twitching with the urge to not strangle her and drop the glass. "I am busy as it is." said the tired wizard drinking out of a whiskey cup underneath the school's tunnels.

[Nude East Ireland]

Jillybean glanced around the empty waiting room for something to do. Disappointed with her options, she collapsed backwards into one of the old armchairs and began tapping the floor with her feet to the tune of a nursery ryme she could only half remember.
"Why are you in the nurse's office, Elizabeth Müller?" she asked.

"I broke my wrist, maybe," she replied, sitting down carefully in a chair. "I think, at least. I was trying to work on my pyrotechnics when I tripped."

[Nationstatelandsville]

Rather than burn, Lust simply allowed her dress to dissolve into some very distracting black lingerie. She slithered up to him, her lips pursing.

"Oh, I just want to see what's wrong, dear," she said comfortingly, wrapping her arm around Crowley's shoulder, "We go hand-in-hand, you know. I can feel when you're down, we all."

She kissed him on the cheek.

"You were always my favorite," she added.

Crowley did not particularly seem to give a damn about Lust at the moment, which was rather a surprise considering it was Crowley. He was, however, drinking his whiskey cup- which notably kept refilling, so it never actually went down.

"What on Earth do you want right now, Lust?" he repeated, his hands seeming to twitch and not making a grab for the demon's considerable assets. Instead, they seemed to be twitching with the urge to not strangle her and drop the glass. "I am busy as it is." said the tired wizard drinking out of a whiskey cup underneath the school's tunnels.

"I'm worried about you, Crowley," she said, "We're all worried about you."

She smiled with genuine affection - not fake want, not seductive glances, nothing physical at all. It was the same love between a mother and her child, or, perhaps, a sister and her little brother. Lust ran her fingers through Crowley's hair, massaging his back - not with eroticism, but with care.

"You're not yourself lately," she continued, "It's like you just forgot who Aleister Crowley is and became some different man."

[Erinkita]

Jillybean's foot-tapping rhythm briefly became a panicked cacophony before she forced her feet to stay still. "Did I hurt you with my handshake earlier?!" she yelped "I'm sorry! You go ahead of me. I'm just here for a checkup, I feel fine honestly. Who do you think is in there right now? They're taking a while."

[Nude East Ireland]

Jillybean's foot-tapping rhythm briefly became a panicked cacophony before she forced her feet to stay still. "Did I hurt you with my handshake earlier?!" she yelped "I'm sorry! You go ahead of me. I'm just here for a checkup, I feel fine honestly. Who do you think is in there right now? They're taking a while."

"No, it's fine," she replied. "I'll live."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

.

[Erinkita]

.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Parnell squeaked again and ran. Unfortunately, he was a classics major, not a track star. He was knocked aside by one of the dog's paws, slamming into the wall. He definitely felt something crack, and pain exploded in his midsection. "Ah, fuck!" he shouted. Fortunately, he still had a tight hold on the shroud.

The middle head of Cerberus bit onto the Shroud, attempting to tear it from Parnell's grip.

The left head shifted to stare at the helicopter, growling at the incoming foe. It was not Charon. The right head went suddenly immobile, falling limp and drawing no breath.

Quite disconcerting.

Behind Parnell and on the other side of the Phlegethon, the helicopter landed on the grassy fields, seemingly unaffected by the raging river fo flames. A figure emerged from it, but Parnell could not tell who or what.

M.T. pointed out the door and said, "Crowley's office is that way. However, I don't think he's currently in -- the school doesn't reek nearly enough of potential death for him to be in. And believe me, mewling infant of a demon, I have an acute sense of smell."

He sighed and added, "When you die, as you shall inevitably do at least once, I shall take great pleasure in feasting on your soul."

"When I die, my soul will take great pleasure in giving you burning diarrhea for weeks."

Exit Lewis Jameson Jones.

After the queasy minotaur currently occupying Elfen High's medical staff's attention was dealt with, Jillybean did let Elizabeth get taken care of first. When her turn came, she was told the nanites were basically finished and that she would pee them out sometime tomorrow, which would likely be excrutiatingly painful.
Devoid of anything to occupy her, the class schedule operating on a "whenever teachers have a spare moment" basis, she took to wandering the halls in search of something more interesting.

Enter Nick Bottom.

"O, woe is me!" Bottom cried, swooning and wiping his brow with the back of his hand, "Woe is Nick Bottom! Woe! I am strike with the most terrible of ills! Palsy! Plaque! Spanish flu! Ebona!"

He collapsed onto a chair next to Jillybean (one that had certainly not been there before) tearing his dress-shirt open and panting heavily. He dabbed his face with a dainty handkerchief - that of Aphrodite herself - coughing violently while gesticulating in the most creative fashion.

"By the tempests of fever and floods of mucus!" he bemoaned, "Poor Bottom is a grave man."

He suddenly became cognizant of his audience, stood, and took a bow.

"Good morrow, my fair lady," he said, "I must apologize, I did not see you there. Surely you recognize me, but I must assure you - I am not the vicious bastard son whom I have most recently portrayed in London. The magic of theatre."

He was completely serious about the last part.

"And who are you, fair sight?" he inquired, having forgotten his purported disease.

[Astrolinium]

"No, BAD DOG!" were the shouted words out of Parnell's mouth as he pulled back, trying to keep Cerberus from getting the shroud. He paid little mind to the apparent death of the right head, as he was a little preoccupied. He had better be handsomely paid for this, or something, because, dammit, he was a secretary, not a gun for hire!

---------------------------------

M.T. would have pursed his lips in disapproval if he had any. Instead, he stood, leaving the book where it was, and transformed into a rather different representation of Death. Upon doing so, he pursed his lips and walked briskly from the library towards his classroom. It was almost time for Underwater Basketweaving I, he figured.

[Erinkita]

After the queasy minotaur currently occupying Elfen High's medical staff's attention was dealt with, Jillybean did let Elizabeth get taken care of first. When her turn came, she was told the nanites were basically finished and that she would pee them out sometime tomorrow, which would likely be excrutiatingly painful.
Devoid of anything to occupy her, the class schedule operating on a "whenever teachers have a spare moment" basis, she took to wandering the halls in search of something more interesting.

Enter Nick Bottom.

"O, woe is me!" Bottom cried, swooning and wiping his brow with the back of his hand, "Woe is Nick Bottom! Woe! I am strike with the most terrible of ills! Palsy! Plaque! Spanish flu! Ebona!"

He collapsed onto a chair next to Jillybean (one that had certainly not been there before) tearing his dress-shirt open and panting heavily. He dabbed his face with a dainty handkerchief - that of Aphrodite herself - coughing violently while gesticulating in the most creative fashion.

"By the tempests of fever and floods of mucus!" he bemoaned, "Poor Bottom is a grave man."

He suddenly became cognizant of his audience, stood, and took a bow.

"Good morrow, my fair lady," he said, "I must apologize, I did not see you there. Surely you recognize me, but I must assure you - I am not the vicious bastard son whom I have most recently portrayed in London. The magic of theatre."

He was completely serious about the last part.

"And who are you, fair sight?" he inquired, having forgotten his purported disease.

Jillybean perked up with excitement at the dramatic entrance that had just been made. Leaping to her feet in the armchair, she cried "Scalpel!" to no one in particular and produced a hacksaw from the ether. As soon as the elegantly dressed (although now quite dishevelled) man took notice of her, she disposed of it by throwing it into the air, where it somehow lodged in the steel rafters.

"Jillybean, of the Grimaldi troupe," she introduced herself with a curtsy, completely enchanted with the thespian. "Do you mean London the city or London the sentient nebula? I hear both have a lively arts scene, but I haven't had the chance to visit either."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Just as the first team had taken off, Alastor finished recharging his weapon's batteries. He couldn't do it in but a moment like he could before, as these were more efficient yet more delicate than the ones he used in Heavensgate during the Abrahamic War, and thus required greater care. They were full of dark magical energies now, however, and that pleased the warlord.

With little more to do, he turned to Sisitu and addressed her. "Summoner, what route did your scout take? If it arrived to the diamond's location safely, then it must not have triggered any traps, and if that is indeed the case, the safest course of action we have is to follow in its footsteps." The warlord stated.

[Norvenia]

Daniel straightened, wiping the worst of the gore off his cassock and body armor. He took off his combat helmet a moment, and shook the sweat from his hair; then he buckled the helmet back on. He was beginning to feel it, now: physical and emotional wounds, old and new, aching at the edge of his consciousness. That damn left knee was never the same after Wagram. Something hit me in the head just before Calliel and Alastor got their shield up. There's too much blood. My father falls off my blades into the dark. The priest swings from the gibbet on Christmas Eve. There's too much fucking blood!

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut a moment. Help me, Father. I need to be strong for just a little while longer. Give me the strength to get my people off this goddam moon alive.

"Lock and load, team two," Daniel called, his voice strangely gentle. Is that me? I am what You need me to be. "Dump everything nonessential. We are moving fast. With half-strength, we're not going to survive another head-on fight, so our goal is to run past trouble before it knows that we're here." Daniel ditched his rucksack onto the tunnel floor, keeping only the gear attached to his body armor and helmet. "So: do not stop running. Not to take cover, not to avoid detection. Try to stay out of sight, but not at the price of speed. If we get pinned down, if we stagnate, then we'll be surrounded, swamped, and cut down. Our only ally is speed - the momentum to blast through the enemy before they can process our presence." The priest glanced around. "It's risky, but the odds are hundreds to one. We can't do this the ordinary, safe way. Keep moving, shoot straight, and we'll be back on that shuttle in five minutes."

Daniel turned, now, and pointed at Alastor. "We're going to be moving too fast for fixed formations, but I need you watching our rear and doing whatever you can to make sure that we don't get spotted. Everyone else, pick a sector and cover it. Anything in your sector that spots us gets shot dead - but do not stop moving while you shoot!" Daniel turned to Sisitu. "Alastor's right - we need to follow the route of your scout. And since you're the only one who actually knows what that route is, you're on point with me. Actually..." Daniel cast a worried glance at the Sumerian's child-like frame. "You're going to be on point, on me. I can run faster carrying you on my back than you can on your own two legs, and we can't afford to slow the pace so that you can keep up." The priest gave a rueful grin. "We all have to set our dignity aside sometime, Sisitu. Climb aboard." Daniel knelt, and cast a glance up the tunnel, past the mangled bodies of dozens of dwarfs and angels. "And then let's go."

[Nude East Ireland]

"SILENCE!" yelled Duzrellian.

Before anyone in the cafeteria could react, the demon had broken through the wall, sending rubble everywhere. His large demonic form made him look like a fantasy hippie - in fact, he pretty much was. He glanced around the room, the shock on everyone's faces not phasing him in any way. He stumbled over to the counter, and cheesily smiled at the lunch lady, an obese Russian woman named Olga, who fought in every war the Soviet Union ever participated in, and worked in every Soviet gulag.

"Hello beautiful," he commented, as he dipped his large finger into the bowl of chocolate paste, picking up a large glob and licking it off.

"Fuck," Olga muttered, as she grabbed a ladle. She dipped it into the macaroni and cheese dish, pulled out a hardy helping of the sticky pasta and gooey cheese, and slopped it onto the plate. She did this about three more times, before handing Duzrellian the dish. The demon smiled once more, taking the plate and licking his lips. "Thank you, Olga," he said, before wandering off.

He walked through the hallways, eating the mac and cheese like it was nobody's business. When he finished, he simply broke the plate and used its shards as tooth-picks. When he was done with that, he discarded them onto the floor, burping loud enough that people in Arizona heard.

"Shit, I need to lay off the cocaine," Duzrellian muttered, as he magically morphed into his human form. He leaned against some lockers, before sliding down to the ground.