Elfen High 2 (OOC 3, Closed)

[Nationstatelandsville]

And I'm Nightkill and Nightkill is Nat and Nat is Olthar.

Because, given all the shit you're pulling, why the fuck not? .

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.

Ah, LSD.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.

Ah, LSD.

Nice try Nat, but I was singing "I am the walrus", not "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

And now the Beatles have somehow entered this oneshot.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Dover. Ah, the cliffs of Dover. So very, very famous. So very, very beautiful. So very, very high.

High enough to die, though?

A man who would be called Lewis Jameson sat in the back of his wagon, smoking his pipe and looking down below him at the churning oceans. So high... such a very great fall...

Lewis' horse neighed a bit at a shadow on the horizon, before becoming absorbed in eating grass again. It stomped around in his newfound freedom, confused by it. Lewis had let him go - he wouldn't need him anymore - but the horse didn't seem to understand. For now, he hovered near his master. He'd learn soon, though. Learn to be free.

Learn how pointless it all was.

Soon enough, the shadow came closer and closer, before appearing next to Lewis in the form of a young boy in rags, covered in grime and as thin as a corn's stem.

"Whatcha' doin' here, kid?" Lewis demanded abrasively. He was so far beyond caring about what a little kid thought of him. The blood had washed away his empathy. Not the blood of a bear, an animal, the blood of a human. So many humans. And it was so pointless.

"Fuck you!" the boy snapped, tears bursting from his eyes.

"Oh, shit, a bad-ass!" Lewis laughed, "Go ahead, pull a knife on me. Take what ye' want with force."

"Stay out of my way!" he shouted, before rushing at the cliffs. Lewis stepped in front of him, blocking his path, and grabbed him by the collar.

"Gonna' jump?" he asked.

"This is none of your business!" the young child spat.

"Well, ye' know what?" Lewis said, "I don't give a damn if it's my business. It's someone's business. So, again - ye' gonna' jump?"

Blood. Blood on his hands. Dead bodies. What did they want? They wanted to live. He wanted to live. And they couldn't live together. Not enough food.

"Yes!" the kid cried, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Just let me do it! Mum! Dad! Just let me do it!"

"Nah," Lewis cackled, "No, kid, ye' stupid shit. I'm not gonna' let ye' do it. 'Cause I don't think ye' get it - ye' don't just jump. How stupid are ye'? Your mommy and daddy are dead?"

He nodded.

"Well, fuck, that's shit," Lewis replied, "but they're dead and you're not. So there's that. But that doesn't matter, huh? 'Cause shit happens. But none of that shit pushes ye' off the cliff. Are mommy and daddy's ghosts here tryin' to push ye' off the cliff?"

A shake of the head.

"Then why are ye' tryin' to jump?" Lewis asked, "None of that shit has killed ye' yet. Why give it a head start?"

"I'm so hungry..." he whimpered.

Lewis thrust a loaf of bread into the child's hands. He'd killed a family for that bread. He'd killed so he didn't die.

"Then eat that," Lewis commanded, "go out and find more. Can't find any? That shit pushes ye' off the cliff. No water? Fuck, that too. But bein' alone? Ye' don't need mommy and daddy to live. Ye' can go on without 'em. My mommy and daddy are dead, am I in the water? My brother died, am I in the water? So much shit's happened to me, but I'm on land."

"I don't want to," he cried, but nonetheless, he buried his face in the food.

"Ye' don't get a choice," Lewis said, "Life doesn't give ye' a choice. Your life isn't for ye'; your life's so ye' can go help others. Don't wanna' live? Too fuckin' bad. I want ye' to live. I need ye' to live. So, ye' selfish little bitch, ye' live. Understand? Ye' might save the world one day. Not gonna' let you waste that in the water."

The child fell silent and went back to eating. Lewis picked him up and placed him gently on the wagon, placing the horse back into its reins. It gave Lewis a look of terrible relief and marched on, dragging them back to town.

The cliffs were too high for today. Maybe tomorrow, maybe it would be small enough then. The man who would be called Lewis Jameson wished it would be, so much.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Dover. Ah, the cliffs of Dover. So very, very famous. So very, very beautiful. So very, very high.

High enough to die, though?

A man who would be called Lewis Jameson sat in the back of his wagon, smoking his pipe and looking down below him at the churning oceans. So high... such a very great fall...

Lewis' horse neighed a bit at a shadow on the horizon, before becoming absorbed in eating grass again. It stomped around in his newfound freedom, confused by it. Lewis had let him go - he wouldn't need him anymore - but the horse didn't seem to understand. For now, he hovered near his master. He'd learn soon, though. Learn to be free.

Learn how pointless it all was.

Soon enough, the shadow came closer and closer, before appearing next to Lewis in the form of a young boy in rags, covered in grime and as thin as a corn's stem.

"Whatcha' doin' here, kid?" Lewis demanded abrasively. He was so far beyond caring about what a little kid thought of him. The blood had washed away his empathy. Not the blood of a bear, an animal, the blood of a human. So many humans. And it was so pointless.

"Fuck you!" the boy snapped, tears bursting from his eyes.

"Oh, shit, a bad-ass!" Lewis laughed, "Go ahead, pull a knife on me. Take what ye' want with force."

"Stay out of my way!" he shouted, before rushing at the cliffs. Lewis stepped in front of him, blocking his path, and grabbed him by the collar.

"Gonna' jump?" he asked.

"This is none of your business!" the young child spat.

"Well, ye' know what?" Lewis said, "I don't give a damn if it's my business. It's someone's business. So, again - ye' gonna' jump?"

Blood. Blood on his hands. Dead bodies. What did they want? They wanted to live. He wanted to live. And they couldn't live together. Not enough food.

"Yes!" the kid cried, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Just let me do it! Mum! Dad! Just let me do it!"

"Nah," Lewis cackled, "No, kid, ye' stupid shit. I'm not gonna' let ye' do it. 'Cause I don't think ye' get it - ye' don't just jump. How stupid are ye'? Your mommy and daddy are dead?"

He nodded.

"Well, fuck, that's shit," Lewis replied, "but they're dead and you're not. So there's that. But that doesn't matter, huh? 'Cause shit happens. But none of that shit pushes ye' off the cliff. Are mommy and daddy's ghosts here tryin' to push ye' off the cliff?"

A shake of the head.

"Then why are ye' tryin' to jump?" Lewis asked, "None of that shit has killed ye' yet. Why give it a head start?"

"I'm so hungry..." he whimpered.

Lewis thrust a loaf of bread into the child's hands. He'd killed a family for that bread. He'd killed so he didn't die.

"Then eat that," Lewis commanded, "go out and find more. Can't find any? That shit pushes ye' off the cliff. No water? Fuck, that too. But bein' alone? Ye' don't need mommy and daddy to live. Ye' can go on without 'em. My mommy and daddy are dead, am I in the water? My brother died, am I in the water? So much shit's happened to me, but I'm on land."

"I don't want to," he cried, but nonetheless, he buried his face in the food.

"Ye' don't get a choice," Lewis said, "Life doesn't give ye' a choice. Your life isn't for ye'; your life's so ye' can go help others. Don't wanna' live? Too fuckin' bad. I want ye' to live. I need ye' to live. So, ye' selfish little bitch, ye' live. Understand? Ye' might save the world one day. Not gonna' let you waste that in the water."

The child fell silent and went back to eating. Lewis picked him up and placed him gently on the wagon, placing the horse back into its reins. It gave Lewis a look of terrible relief and marched on, dragging them back to town.

The cliffs were too high for today. Maybe tomorrow, maybe it would be small enough then. The man who would be called Lewis Jameson wished it would be, so much.

That's actually good writing. Nice job, Nat. Good work there.

And there's your monthly compliment.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Dover. Ah, the cliffs of Dover. So very, very famous. So very, very beautiful. So very, very high.

High enough to die, though?

A man who would be called Lewis Jameson sat in the back of his wagon, smoking his pipe and looking down below him at the churning oceans. So high... such a very great fall...

Lewis' horse neighed a bit at a shadow on the horizon, before becoming absorbed in eating grass again. It stomped around in his newfound freedom, confused by it. Lewis had let him go - he wouldn't need him anymore - but the horse didn't seem to understand. For now, he hovered near his master. He'd learn soon, though. Learn to be free.

Learn how pointless it all was.

Soon enough, the shadow came closer and closer, before appearing next to Lewis in the form of a young boy in rags, covered in grime and as thin as a corn's stem.

"Whatcha' doin' here, kid?" Lewis demanded abrasively. He was so far beyond caring about what a little kid thought of him. The blood had washed away his empathy. Not the blood of a bear, an animal, the blood of a human. So many humans. And it was so pointless.

"Fuck you!" the boy snapped, tears bursting from his eyes.

"Oh, shit, a bad-ass!" Lewis laughed, "Go ahead, pull a knife on me. Take what ye' want with force."

"Stay out of my way!" he shouted, before rushing at the cliffs. Lewis stepped in front of him, blocking his path, and grabbed him by the collar.

"Gonna' jump?" he asked.

"This is none of your business!" the young child spat.

"Well, ye' know what?" Lewis said, "I don't give a damn if it's my business. It's someone's business. So, again - ye' gonna' jump?"

Blood. Blood on his hands. Dead bodies. What did they want? They wanted to live. He wanted to live. And they couldn't live together. Not enough food.

"Yes!" the kid cried, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Just let me do it! Mum! Dad! Just let me do it!"

"Nah," Lewis cackled, "No, kid, ye' stupid shit. I'm not gonna' let ye' do it. 'Cause I don't think ye' get it - ye' don't just jump. How stupid are ye'? Your mommy and daddy are dead?"

He nodded.

"Well, fuck, that's shit," Lewis replied, "but they're dead and you're not. So there's that. But that doesn't matter, huh? 'Cause shit happens. But none of that shit pushes ye' off the cliff. Are mommy and daddy's ghosts here tryin' to push ye' off the cliff?"

A shake of the head.

"Then why are ye' tryin' to jump?" Lewis asked, "None of that shit has killed ye' yet. Why give it a head start?"

"I'm so hungry..." he whimpered.

Lewis thrust a loaf of bread into the child's hands. He'd killed a family for that bread. He'd killed so he didn't die.

"Then eat that," Lewis commanded, "go out and find more. Can't find any? That shit pushes ye' off the cliff. No water? Fuck, that too. But bein' alone? Ye' don't need mommy and daddy to live. Ye' can go on without 'em. My mommy and daddy are dead, am I in the water? My brother died, am I in the water? So much shit's happened to me, but I'm on land."

"I don't want to," he cried, but nonetheless, he buried his face in the food.

"Ye' don't get a choice," Lewis said, "Life doesn't give ye' a choice. Your life isn't for ye'; your life's so ye' can go help others. Don't wanna' live? Too fuckin' bad. I want ye' to live. I need ye' to live. So, ye' selfish little bitch, ye' live. Understand? Ye' might save the world one day. Not gonna' let you waste that in the water."

The child fell silent and went back to eating. Lewis picked him up and placed him gently on the wagon, placing the horse back into its reins. It gave Lewis a look of terrible relief and marched on, dragging them back to town.

The cliffs were too high for today. Maybe tomorrow, maybe it would be small enough then. The man who would be called Lewis Jameson wished it would be, so much.

That's actually good writing. Nice job, Nat. Good work there.

And there's your monthly compliment.

Whee!

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Added to 3rd post.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Dover. Ah, the cliffs of Dover. So very, very famous. So very, very beautiful. So very, very high.

High enough to die, though?

A man who would be called Lewis Jameson sat in the back of his wagon, smoking his pipe and looking down below him at the churning oceans. So high... such a very great fall...

Lewis' horse neighed a bit at a shadow on the horizon, before becoming absorbed in eating grass again. It stomped around in his newfound freedom, confused by it. Lewis had let him go - he wouldn't need him anymore - but the horse didn't seem to understand. For now, he hovered near his master. He'd learn soon, though. Learn to be free.

Learn how pointless it all was.

Soon enough, the shadow came closer and closer, before appearing next to Lewis in the form of a young boy in rags, covered in grime and as thin as a corn's stem.

"Whatcha' doin' here, kid?" Lewis demanded abrasively. He was so far beyond caring about what a little kid thought of him. The blood had washed away his empathy. Not the blood of a bear, an animal, the blood of a human. So many humans. And it was so pointless.

"Fuck you!" the boy snapped, tears bursting from his eyes.

"Oh, shit, a bad-ass!" Lewis laughed, "Go ahead, pull a knife on me. Take what ye' want with force."

"Stay out of my way!" he shouted, before rushing at the cliffs. Lewis stepped in front of him, blocking his path, and grabbed him by the collar.

"Gonna' jump?" he asked.

"This is none of your business!" the young child spat.

"Well, ye' know what?" Lewis said, "I don't give a damn if it's my business. It's someone's business. So, again - ye' gonna' jump?"

Blood. Blood on his hands. Dead bodies. What did they want? They wanted to live. He wanted to live. And they couldn't live together. Not enough food.

"Yes!" the kid cried, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Just let me do it! Mum! Dad! Just let me do it!"

"Nah," Lewis cackled, "No, kid, ye' stupid shit. I'm not gonna' let ye' do it. 'Cause I don't think ye' get it - ye' don't just jump. How stupid are ye'? Your mommy and daddy are dead?"

He nodded.

"Well, fuck, that's shit," Lewis replied, "but they're dead and you're not. So there's that. But that doesn't matter, huh? 'Cause shit happens. But none of that shit pushes ye' off the cliff. Are mommy and daddy's ghosts here tryin' to push ye' off the cliff?"

A shake of the head.

"Then why are ye' tryin' to jump?" Lewis asked, "None of that shit has killed ye' yet. Why give it a head start?"

"I'm so hungry..." he whimpered.

Lewis thrust a loaf of bread into the child's hands. He'd killed a family for that bread. He'd killed so he didn't die.

"Then eat that," Lewis commanded, "go out and find more. Can't find any? That shit pushes ye' off the cliff. No water? Fuck, that too. But bein' alone? Ye' don't need mommy and daddy to live. Ye' can go on without 'em. My mommy and daddy are dead, am I in the water? My brother died, am I in the water? So much shit's happened to me, but I'm on land."

"I don't want to," he cried, but nonetheless, he buried his face in the food.

"Ye' don't get a choice," Lewis said, "Life doesn't give ye' a choice. Your life isn't for ye'; your life's so ye' can go help others. Don't wanna' live? Too fuckin' bad. I want ye' to live. I need ye' to live. So, ye' selfish little bitch, ye' live. Understand? Ye' might save the world one day. Not gonna' let you waste that in the water."

The child fell silent and went back to eating. Lewis picked him up and placed him gently on the wagon, placing the horse back into its reins. It gave Lewis a look of terrible relief and marched on, dragging them back to town.

The cliffs were too high for today. Maybe tomorrow, maybe it would be small enough then. The man who would be called Lewis Jameson wished it would be, so much.

For those who care (none of you), I wrote it after stumbling across this: http://i684.photobucket.com/albums/vv20 ... 1246328571

Morrison, you magnificent bastard.

[Ende]

Wait, I was just reading through the old IC, and I realized that Raphael is a black guy.

How did I not notice that.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Wait, I was just reading through the old IC, and I realized that Raphael is a black guy.

How did I not notice that.

It hasn't been overly emphasised.

Uriel's black in my head too, but this is because I'm racist.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

This oneshot is getting too big.

So I'll probably just work it into the IC.

[Ende]

This oneshot is getting too big.

No such thing!

I'm working on a oneshot, because I can't sleep and I've already posted in the IC.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

This oneshot is getting too big.

No such thing!

I'm working on a oneshot, because I can't sleep and I've already posted in the IC.

No, I mean it's turned into a virtual epic involving the Mormons, Ganesh and Sanchez.

And fuck it, I can ram the EHers into this.

[Ende]

No such thing!

I'm working on a oneshot, because I can't sleep and I've already posted in the IC.

No, I mean it's turned into a virtual epic involving the Mormons, Ganesh and Sanchez.

And fuck it, I can ram the EHers into this.

This is why you are a good OP.

Your brain is like a breeding ground for awesome.

[Hardened Pyrokinetics]

No such thing!

I'm working on a oneshot, because I can't sleep and I've already posted in the IC.

No, I mean it's turned into a virtual epic involving the Mormons, Ganesh and Sanchez.

And fuck it, I can ram the EHers into this.

Save it for Arc 3.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

No, I mean it's turned into a virtual epic involving the Mormons, Ganesh and Sanchez.

And fuck it, I can ram the EHers into this.

Save it for Arc 3.

Nah, it fits better in this arc.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Am I making slight parallels with Lucifer?

No, of course not.

[Hardened Pyrokinetics]

I feel like I should have James do something, but I can't think of what.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

I feel like I should have James do something, but I can't think of what.

Strip.

[Ende]

'
"So," said Ivy, running a comb through her hair as she walked away from Raphael's room, gripping the angel's hand tightly, "...what's your name again?"

Calliel looked slightly perturbed, but it was barely noticeable. He had already told the girl his name twice already. It was odd that she could not remember. Perhaps the death had destroyed her mind? He was not sure.

"My name is Calliel." he said bluntly, leading her by her hand, towards the armoury.

"So," continued Ivy, looking somewhat cheerful, though her cheeks were still stained with dried tears, and sadness was still visible in her eyes, "Mr. Calliel, where are we going?"

Calliel took another look at the girl, a hint of confusion in his eyes. He was unsure why Raphael was keeping her. She would make good slave labour. She was young and likely had strength in her. She would free herself over enough time, and that seemed like it would be the most rational use of the girl. She would follow the route of the other humans. For some reason, Raphael had taken an interest in her, though. Perhaps it was because the girl was from the school. With the sinner, Crowley. Perhaps that was why. It was not his place to wonder why, though. It was not his place to ask "why" or "what if". His job was to follow orders.

"We are going to the armoury." he said stiffly, continuing to stride through the mostly empty streets of Heavensgate. Ivy turned her head around as she walked behind the angel, looking over the dozens of churches. There were no people in these streets. Only angels. She stared at one - he looked almost like all the others - taller than a normal human, stronger, handsome - it was hard to describe. The angels were, well, basically, the human ideal of perfection. She found it slightly odd. She'd hate to be perfect like that, because being flawed was part of being human. She was completely sure about that. A few seconds after Calliel said this, she noticed, and then was slightly confused.

"The armory? I thought Raphael said I was going to - "

"We are going to the armory because Raphael said so." said Calliel stiffly, and he took a left down another street. Ivy looked around.

"Where are all the...well, people?" she asked, searching the figures as they passed. They were all angels - every single one.

"Humans are not allowed in this part of the city. This part of Heavensgate is for the angels. The humans are outside this wall." Callliel replied, gesturing to a large wall nearby. Ivy looked slightly uncomfortable, and she wiped her eyes with her elbow again.

"So...I'm...I'm really, like, dead?" she stuttered, trying to keep up with Calliel. Calliel continued walking at the same pace, each step the same exact distance of the last. It was fast - faster than most people walked, actually.

"Yes. You are dead." he said stiffly, dragging her to the right. Ivy followed behind, shaking her head slightly in disbelief. It was still slightly hard to wrap around the idea. She was alive, just an hour ago, with James, and Damien, and the other girl, Hilde, and they were battling Loki, and...she was lying in a pool of her own blood, choking and gasping for air as everything faded black, and...well, that didn't matter. She was here. She was alive. She felt rather uncomfortable, actually. The angels turned to stare occasionally, she felt rather awkward, wearing only some white robes that had appeared when she had arrived (they reminded her of a bathrobe). Taking her comb out, she stroked it through her green hair yet another time, and then Calliel slowed to a stop.

"We are here." he said, and then he led her inside. Turning down hallways and corridors, he stopped at a large room, with swords hanging from the walls.

"Choose a weapon. You'll need one."

Ivy paused.

"I'll...need one? I'm not really one for fighting, and Raphael said I was an advisor, and I don't really - "

"You'll need it."

Ivy shrugged, and then, looking around, plucked a giant silver sword off of the wall. The tip fell to the ground with a thud, sticking into the wooden floor. Calliel shook his head, and then he gripped and took a short golden sword off the wall. It was barely able to be called a sword - about eighteen inches long, with a golden blade and a firm wooden hilt.

"You might need this." he said, holding it out to her. She grasped it from his hand, and then spun it around a few times - wasn't very heavy, and it seemed like a nice enough weapon.

"Thanks. I'll take this one." she said, and then she looked around.

"Calliel, can I ask you a question?"

"I suppose." he said, unfeeling as ever. Ivy felt slightly frustrated - he didn't seem very human. He just didn't seem like he cared very much. He reminded her a bit of a robot - an android, really. A living perfection, but...well, he wasn't too human, and she felt odd around them. The angels would have to act a bit more like her if she was going to like them...or maybe she'd act like them. No, she wouldn't act like them. She didn't want to be like the angels.

"Well, Cally," she said, "...when am I going home? I...I don't really know what's going on, and my parents must be awfully worried, because, you know, I'm dead, and I'm still a little bit confused about Heaven and Hell and Heavensgate and the whole dying thing, but that doesn't matter. Am I stuck here for good? Like, all eternity?"

She shuddered at the mere concept of eternity. It was terrifying, really. Forever. Never ending. It would just go on and on and on and on forever. A few chills ran down her spine - she had always disliked the idea. And being stuck here...with the angels...for all eternity...

"I don't deserve that." she said, wiping fresh tears from her eyes. Calliel sighed slightly.

"You are not stuck here forever, child. You will most likely return to your home when you are finished with your service to Raphael. When Raphael bids it, you shall return. However, your age will stay the same. You have two lives. That is how it works."

Ivy looked up.

"Oh, thanks. Okay. That's a lot better. I'm cool with that. I mean, knowing how that works. It's nice. So, when I'm done helping Raphael? That can't be very long. And, wait, now that I'm dead, I'm going to be sixteen for the rest of my life? I'm...well, okay. That's going to make college a bit awkward, but okay. And getting drinks. Assuming I try that. I don't know how I'll go about getting an ID." she said, smiling slightly, and then her smile slightly faded. "So...Mr. Calliel - can I call you Cally? Anyway, so, what do you like to do? Have any friends? What do angels...do?" she questioned, looking at him, expecting an answer.

"I serve Raphael." he said bluntly, and then he turned his back to her.

"I must show you to your quarters now. Please follow." he continued, and grasping her wrist tightly - not roughly, but not softly - he led her away. Ivy protested, digging her heels into the wooden floor for a few moments, but Calliel disregarded this completely.

"It's not so bad." mumbled Ivy to herself, thinking out loud. "I'll be home in a few weeks, and it'll all be fine."

She had no idea.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

'
"So," said Ivy, running a comb through her hair as she walked away from Raphael's room, gripping the angel's hand tightly, "...what's your name again?"

Calliel looked slightly perturbed, but it was barely noticeable. He had already told the girl his name twice already. It was odd that she could not remember. Perhaps the death had destroyed her mind? He was not sure.

"My name is Calliel." he said bluntly, leading her by her hand, towards the armoury.

"So," continued Ivy, looking somewhat cheerful, though her cheeks were still stained with dried tears, and sadness was still visible in her eyes, "Mr. Calliel, where are we going?"

Calliel took another look at the girl, a hint of confusion in his eyes. He was unsure why Raphael was keeping her. She would make good slave labour. She was young and likely had strength in her. She would free herself over enough time, and that seemed like it would be the most rational use of the girl. She would follow the route of the other humans. For some reason, Raphael had taken an interest in her, though. Perhaps it was because the girl was from the school. With the sinner, Crowley. Perhaps that was why. It was not his place to wonder why, though. It was not his place to ask "why" or "what if". His job was to follow orders.

"We are going to the armoury." he said stiffly, continuing to stride through the mostly empty streets of Heavensgate. Ivy turned her head around as she walked behind the angel, looking over the dozens of churches. There were no people in these streets. Only angels. She stared at one - he looked almost like all the others - taller than a normal human, stronger, handsome - it was hard to describe. The angels were, well, basically, the human ideal of perfection. She found it slightly odd. She'd hate to be perfect like that, because being flawed was part of being human. She was completely sure about that. A few seconds after Calliel said this, she noticed, and then was slightly confused.

"The armory? I thought Raphael said I was going to - "

"We are going to the armory because Raphael said so." said Calliel stiffly, and he took a left down another street. Ivy looked around.

"Where are all the...well, people?" she asked, searching the figures as they passed. They were all angels - every single one.

"Humans are not allowed in this part of the city. This part of Heavensgate is for the angels. The humans are outside this wall." Callliel replied, gesturing to a large wall nearby. Ivy looked slightly uncomfortable, and she wiped her eyes with her elbow again.

"So...I'm...I'm really, like, dead?" she stuttered, trying to keep up with Calliel. Calliel continued walking at the same pace, each step the same exact distance of the last. It was fast - faster than most people walked, actually.

"Yes. You are dead." he said stiffly, dragging her to the right. Ivy followed behind, shaking her head slightly in disbelief. It was still slightly hard to wrap around the idea. She was alive, just an hour ago, with James, and Damien, and the other girl, Hilde, and they were battling Loki, and...she was lying in a pool of her own blood, choking and gasping for air as everything faded black, and...well, that didn't matter. She was here. She was alive. She felt rather uncomfortable, actually. The angels turned to stare occasionally, she felt rather awkward, wearing only some white robes that had appeared when she had arrived (they reminded her of a bathrobe). Taking her comb out, she stroked it through her green hair yet another time, and then Calliel slowed to a stop.

"We are here." he said, and then he led her inside. Turning down hallways and corridors, he stopped at a large room, with swords hanging from the walls.

"Choose a weapon. You'll need one."

Ivy paused.

"I'll...need one? I'm not really one for fighting, and Raphael said I was an advisor, and I don't really - "

"You'll need it."

Ivy shrugged, and then, looking around, plucked a giant silver sword off of the wall. The tip fell to the ground with a thud, sticking into the wooden floor. Calliel shook his head, and then he gripped and took a short golden sword off the wall. It was barely able to be called a sword - about eighteen inches long, with a golden blade and a firm wooden hilt.

"You might need this." he said, holding it out to her. She grasped it from his hand, and then spun it around a few times - wasn't very heavy, and it seemed like a nice enough weapon.

"Thanks. I'll take this one." she said, and then she looked around.

"Calliel, can I ask you a question?"

"I suppose." he said, unfeeling as ever. Ivy felt slightly frustrated - he didn't seem very human. He just didn't seem like he cared very much. He reminded her a bit of a robot - an android, really. A living perfection, but...well, he wasn't too human, and she felt odd around them. The angels would have to act a bit more like her if she was going to like them...or maybe she'd act like them. No, she wouldn't act like them. She didn't want to be like the angels.

"Well, Cally," she said, "...when am I going home? I...I don't really know what's going on, and my parents must be awfully worried, because, you know, I'm dead, and I'm still a little bit confused about Heaven and Hell and Heavensgate and the whole dying thing, but that doesn't matter. Am I stuck here for good? Like, all eternity?"

She shuddered at the mere concept of eternity. It was terrifying, really. Forever. Never ending. It would just go on and on and on and on forever. A few chills ran down her spine - she had always disliked the idea. And being stuck here...with the angels...for all eternity...

"I don't deserve that." she said, wiping fresh tears from her eyes. Calliel sighed slightly.

"You are not stuck here forever, child. You will most likely return to your home when you are finished with your service to Raphael. When Raphael bids it, you shall return. However, your age will stay the same. You have two lives. That is how it works."

Ivy looked up.

"Oh, thanks. Okay. That's a lot better. I'm cool with that. I mean, knowing how that works. It's nice. So, when I'm done helping Raphael? That can't be very long. And, wait, now that I'm dead, I'm going to be sixteen for the rest of my life? I'm...well, okay. That's going to make college a bit awkward, but okay. And getting drinks. Assuming I try that. I don't know how I'll go about getting an ID." she said, smiling slightly, and then her smile slightly faded. "So...Mr. Calliel - can I call you Cally? Anyway, so, what do you like to do? Have any friends? What do angels...do?" she questioned, looking at him, expecting an answer.

"I serve Raphael." he said bluntly, and then he turned his back to her.

"I must show you to your quarters now. Please follow." he continued, and grasping her wrist tightly - not roughly, but not softly - he led her away. Ivy protested, digging her heels into the wooden floor for a few moments, but Calliel disregarded this completely.

"It's not so bad." mumbled Ivy to herself, thinking out loud. "I'll be home in a few weeks, and it'll all be fine."

She had no idea.

I'm going to take a drink every time I see "stiffly" and "bluntly".

It's a good one, I like it, though Calliel wasn't really that much of a jerkass even when he lacked emotions.

[Ende]

'
"So," said Ivy, running a comb through her hair as she walked away from Raphael's room, gripping the angel's hand tightly, "...what's your name again?"

Calliel looked slightly perturbed, but it was barely noticeable. He had already told the girl his name twice already. It was odd that she could not remember. Perhaps the death had destroyed her mind? He was not sure.

"My name is Calliel." he said bluntly, leading her by her hand, towards the armoury.

"So," continued Ivy, looking somewhat cheerful, though her cheeks were still stained with dried tears, and sadness was still visible in her eyes, "Mr. Calliel, where are we going?"

Calliel took another look at the girl, a hint of confusion in his eyes. He was unsure why Raphael was keeping her. She would make good slave labour. She was young and likely had strength in her. She would free herself over enough time, and that seemed like it would be the most rational use of the girl. She would follow the route of the other humans. For some reason, Raphael had taken an interest in her, though. Perhaps it was because the girl was from the school. With the sinner, Crowley. Perhaps that was why. It was not his place to wonder why, though. It was not his place to ask "why" or "what if". His job was to follow orders.

"We are going to the armoury." he said stiffly, continuing to stride through the mostly empty streets of Heavensgate. Ivy turned her head around as she walked behind the angel, looking over the dozens of churches. There were no people in these streets. Only angels. She stared at one - he looked almost like all the others - taller than a normal human, stronger, handsome - it was hard to describe. The angels were, well, basically, the human ideal of perfection. She found it slightly odd. She'd hate to be perfect like that, because being flawed was part of being human. She was completely sure about that. A few seconds after Calliel said this, she noticed, and then was slightly confused.

"The armory? I thought Raphael said I was going to - "

"We are going to the armory because Raphael said so." said Calliel stiffly, and he took a left down another street. Ivy looked around.

"Where are all the...well, people?" she asked, searching the figures as they passed. They were all angels - every single one.

"Humans are not allowed in this part of the city. This part of Heavensgate is for the angels. The humans are outside this wall." Callliel replied, gesturing to a large wall nearby. Ivy looked slightly uncomfortable, and she wiped her eyes with her elbow again.

"So...I'm...I'm really, like, dead?" she stuttered, trying to keep up with Calliel. Calliel continued walking at the same pace, each step the same exact distance of the last. It was fast - faster than most people walked, actually.

"Yes. You are dead." he said stiffly, dragging her to the right. Ivy followed behind, shaking her head slightly in disbelief. It was still slightly hard to wrap around the idea. She was alive, just an hour ago, with James, and Damien, and the other girl, Hilde, and they were battling Loki, and...she was lying in a pool of her own blood, choking and gasping for air as everything faded black, and...well, that didn't matter. She was here. She was alive. She felt rather uncomfortable, actually. The angels turned to stare occasionally, she felt rather awkward, wearing only some white robes that had appeared when she had arrived (they reminded her of a bathrobe). Taking her comb out, she stroked it through her green hair yet another time, and then Calliel slowed to a stop.

"We are here." he said, and then he led her inside. Turning down hallways and corridors, he stopped at a large room, with swords hanging from the walls.

"Choose a weapon. You'll need one."

Ivy paused.

"I'll...need one? I'm not really one for fighting, and Raphael said I was an advisor, and I don't really - "

"You'll need it."

Ivy shrugged, and then, looking around, plucked a giant silver sword off of the wall. The tip fell to the ground with a thud, sticking into the wooden floor. Calliel shook his head, and then he gripped and took a short golden sword off the wall. It was barely able to be called a sword - about eighteen inches long, with a golden blade and a firm wooden hilt.

"You might need this." he said, holding it out to her. She grasped it from his hand, and then spun it around a few times - wasn't very heavy, and it seemed like a nice enough weapon.

"Thanks. I'll take this one." she said, and then she looked around.

"Calliel, can I ask you a question?"

"I suppose." he said, unfeeling as ever. Ivy felt slightly frustrated - he didn't seem very human. He just didn't seem like he cared very much. He reminded her a bit of a robot - an android, really. A living perfection, but...well, he wasn't too human, and she felt odd around them. The angels would have to act a bit more like her if she was going to like them...or maybe she'd act like them. No, she wouldn't act like them. She didn't want to be like the angels.

"Well, Cally," she said, "...when am I going home? I...I don't really know what's going on, and my parents must be awfully worried, because, you know, I'm dead, and I'm still a little bit confused about Heaven and Hell and Heavensgate and the whole dying thing, but that doesn't matter. Am I stuck here for good? Like, all eternity?"

She shuddered at the mere concept of eternity. It was terrifying, really. Forever. Never ending. It would just go on and on and on and on forever. A few chills ran down her spine - she had always disliked the idea. And being stuck here...with the angels...for all eternity...

"I don't deserve that." she said, wiping fresh tears from her eyes. Calliel sighed slightly.

"You are not stuck here forever, child. You will most likely return to your home when you are finished with your service to Raphael. When Raphael bids it, you shall return. However, your age will stay the same. You have two lives. That is how it works."

Ivy looked up.

"Oh, thanks. Okay. That's a lot better. I'm cool with that. I mean, knowing how that works. It's nice. So, when I'm done helping Raphael? That can't be very long. And, wait, now that I'm dead, I'm going to be sixteen for the rest of my life? I'm...well, okay. That's going to make college a bit awkward, but okay. And getting drinks. Assuming I try that. I don't know how I'll go about getting an ID." she said, smiling slightly, and then her smile slightly faded. "So...Mr. Calliel - can I call you Cally? Anyway, so, what do you like to do? Have any friends? What do angels...do?" she questioned, looking at him, expecting an answer.

"I serve Raphael." he said bluntly, and then he turned his back to her.

"I must show you to your quarters now. Please follow." he continued, and grasping her wrist tightly - not roughly, but not softly - he led her away. Ivy protested, digging her heels into the wooden floor for a few moments, but Calliel disregarded this completely.

"It's not so bad." mumbled Ivy to herself, thinking out loud. "I'll be home in a few weeks, and it'll all be fine."

She had no idea.

I'm going to take a drink every time I see "stiffly" and "bluntly".

It's a good one, I like it, though Calliel wasn't really that much of a jerkass even when he lacked emotions.

You go and try to describe an angel.

Actually, writing angels is hard. It's like writing robots, but you can't make them too robot and you can't make them too human.

Which, consequently, is why I can't do it.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

I'm going to take a drink every time I see "stiffly" and "bluntly".

It's a good one, I like it, though Calliel wasn't really that much of a jerkass even when he lacked emotions.

You go and try to describe an angel.

Actually, writing angels is hard. It's like writing robots, but you can't make them too robot and you can't make them too human.

Which, consequently, is why I can't do it.

I actually enjoy it. Admittedly, you guys haven't really seen me rp an emotionless plain angel in depth other than the Father.

[Hardened Pyrokinetics]

I'll make a post tomorrow at some point.

[Ende]

I am only doing this for my friend.

I am doing this to save him.

He is a fool, and on the wrong side.

He is my friend, but a fool nonetheless.

I don't know why I've done it. There is no turning back now.

He simply does not understand the causes and forces of this war. On one side are my Lords and Ladies. On the other side are the gods of this universe. The Fae are immensely powerful. They trump the gods. I have seen. I would know. I raided the Library of Alexandria once. During the two years I was gone. I read the books, I saw the pictures, I found the stories - the Fae outmatch the gods themselves any day of the year. The Fae and their servants are fighting the gods and the other allied forces. It will not be a battle. It will not even be a massacre. It will be worse.

I'm so sorry.

I regret nothing.

Please help me. Please. I have no idea what I'm doing. I've made a terrible mistake.

I love my Lords and Ladies.

I'm afraid.

They are my masters, and I will serve them to the end.

Things are out of my control now. I have no choice but to charge forth down the path which I have chosen.

I am a god. I am the Sword of the Fae. I am their vengeance.

I don't want to be a god. I just want to be with my friend.

I will not hesitate for a moment to strike down any in my path.

What have I done? It's too late. Fuck. It's too late to run this time. There's nowhere to run.

I have no regrets. There is no good and evil. Only power. And I have gained power.

I don't care any more. I chose this path. It's my fault.

I love my Lords and Ladies.

There is nothing to do but to charge forward to the end with bravery. There's nothing else.

My beloved Lords and Ladies.

Please help me. No. I don't want help. I did this to myself.

I shall serve them to the end.

I'm not sorry.