Elfen High 2 (OOC 5, Closed)

[Astrolinium]

I'm going to be Asian

No, your ethnicity is Used Car Salesman.

[Olthar]

I'm going to be Asian

No, your ethnicity is Used Car Salesman.

I thought Used Car Salesman was a nationality...

[Individuality-ness]

I should be doing my chem homework... meh, maybe I could come up with a oneshot instead.

Fuck chem homework! Write, young lady! Write!

Way ahead of you.

I should be doing my chem homework... meh, maybe I could come up with a oneshot instead.

I'm going to be a good Asian here and tell you that maybe you should do the chem homework first, and then write.

Because, although at the time it seems better to procrastinate, for some odd reason, it never really works out.

It's not even due till Monday.

[Ende]

I'm going to be a good Asian here and tell you that maybe you should do the chem homework first, and then write.

Because, although at the time it seems better to procrastinate, for some odd reason, it never really works out.

Bullshit. .

You're Mexican - you fuckers always make it work out, for some reason.

I saw one guy pull an entire presentation out of his ass in like, ten minutes before class, and he got an A. I have no idea how it works like that, but it just does. Natural ethnic ability?

I should be doing my chem homework... meh, maybe I could come up with a oneshot instead.

I'm going to be a good Asian here and tell you that maybe you should do the chem homework first, and then write.

Because, although at the time it seems better to procrastinate, for some odd reason, it never really works out.

It's not even due till Monday. [/quote]
Oh, wait, you have three days?

Procrastinate the fuck out of that.

[Liriena]

Bullshit. .

You're Mexican - you fuckers always make it work out, for some reason.

I saw one guy pull an entire presentation out of his ass in like, ten minutes before class, and he got an A. I have no idea how it works like that, but it just does. Natural ethnic ability?

In my experience, you should never, ever underestimate Latin opportunism, or our ability to hold an opinion with good arguments and no actual facts to back them up.

[Individuality-ness]

It's not even due till Monday.

Oh, wait, you have three days?

Procrastinate the fuck out of that.

Exactly.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Bullshit. .

You're Mexican - you fuckers always make it work out, for some reason.

I saw one guy pull an entire presentation out of his ass in like, ten minutes before class, and he got an A. I have no idea how it works like that, but it just does. Natural ethnic ability?

Ah, I do that. Simple, really. As long as you have some information, you can pull it off. .

Maybe it helps that my parents were actors.

Was the guy latin?

[Zarkenis Ultima]

So, there's Alastor's epilogue. I hope it's good enough.

I'll make one for the Ciels later.

[Ende]

I don't know why, but I really like Alastor quite a bit.

[Nude East Ireland]

"Rebuild Dys."

Alastor wants to build a city from scratch in a massive crater? Be my guest.

[Ende]

And we're actually tying plot threads together and making a coherent ending! <squee>

I like it. I like it a lot.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

I don't know why, but I really like Alastor quite a bit.

Because he's a demon with common sense maybe? .

"Rebuild Dys."

Alastor wants to build a city from scratch in a massive crater? Be my guest.

"MY MARK WILL BRAND THE BOWELS OF HELL ITSELF!"

[Olthar]

Very few of D's inventions were actually practical for sale ... it felt good to run the world's most eminent technology company

Contradiction much?

[Nationstatelandsville]

Very few of D's inventions were actually practical for sale ... it felt good to run the world's most eminent technology company

Contradiction much?

He's still Vice President, even if he's completely useless.

[Nude East Ireland]

"Rebuild Dys."

Alastor wants to build a city from scratch in a massive crater? Be my guest.

"MY MARK WILL BRAND THE BOWELS OF HELL ITSELF!"

Seriously, though, the center of the city is also its lowest point.

Unless he simply built another city near the crater and called it Dys.

[Olthar]

Contradiction much?

He's still Vice President, even if he's completely useless.

No, I meant the whole "I don't sell anything, yet my company is still the biggest one out there!" thing.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Rick was Yahweh? Huh.

"MY MARK WILL BRAND THE BOWELS OF HELL ITSELF!"

Seriously, though, the center of the city is also its lowest point.

Unless he simply built another city near the crater and called it Dys.

I'm not even sure if he named it Dys again. .

[Olthar]

"MY MARK WILL BRAND THE BOWELS OF HELL ITSELF!"

Seriously, though, the center of the city is also its lowest point.

Unless he simply built another city near the crater and called it Dys.

Holes can be filled.

[Ende]

He's still Vice President, even if he's completely useless.

No, I meant the whole "I don't sell anything, yet my company is still the biggest one out there!" thing.

D doesn't sell anything.

Daisuke, on the other hand, probably sells everything.

[Nationstatelandsville]

He's still Vice President, even if he's completely useless.

No, I meant the whole "I don't sell anything, yet my company is still the biggest one out there!" thing.

Dai does a pretty good job of running it.

They were also the only magitech company in the human world for three years, with lots of pretty toys to sell to Sanchez.

[Nude East Ireland]

Arc 3 will be three corporations fighting to see which one has the bigger dick.

This message brought to you by capitalism. The Russians got moldy bread, and you got turkey. You're welcome.

[Individuality-ness]

Every morning, the person looking back at the mirror was the same. Brown hair, black eyes before she put on the colored contacts, thin pale face with little coloring, skinny arms and legs and thighs and torso. Always the same.

Nothing seemed to change. The longer she looked in the mirror, the more the figure in the mirror stared back.

“You look like your mother Alison, when she was your age.” People who knew her mother would always say that, intending to mean that she was beautiful.

But Alison never saw it that way. To her, it was just a painful memory, a reminder that her mother was gone, a reminder of a memory – a persona, a ghost – that she had to work up to, in order to not dishonor it.

It reminded her of her final memory of her – a smiling woman who loved her family and her country and always had the best stories to tell at night when she was home. It reminded her that she was not her mother – rather, she was someone who people transpose her mother’s face upon. A shadow of her, really.

And every day, when she looked in the mirror, she saw not her mother, but a stranger, looking back at her.

---

The mirror in the hallway was ornate and large. They called it Yama no Kagami. It was a relic of her mother’s, given to her by her parents for a housewarming gift so long ago.

The name invoked the story of the sun goddess, who hid herself in a cave when her brother, the storm god, terrorized her attendants, destroyed her crops and home, and otherwise ravished Heaven over a bet. Her disappearance led to a solar eclipse, and the world plunged into darkness, with her refusing to come out. The only way that the other gods could set her free was to trick her into looking into a mirror – the Yama no Kagami – for the sun goddess’s beauty would lure her out of the cave. So it did, of course, so it did – she was so entranced by her beauty that she emerged from the cave and all was well.

Alison would always stop at this particular mirror whenever she went by, and took a look at herself. What she saw was not the beauty of the sun goddess, but a stranger with her features. She never stayed long, always rushing away after a few seconds, but sometimes she thought she could see a flash of a smile of years past, a glance of the eyes, or the angle of light reflecting off her hair.

But she was always moving, never looking at it too long. And those disappeared as she moved.

They were just ghosts of a memory long past. And she knew her mother would never return, no matter how much she wanted to – her mother was dead, the end.

But sometimes you wonder…

[Erinkita]

I decided to sneak a prequel post into Arc 2. Sisitu's Arc 3 will begin at Elfen High itself.

EDIT: On second thoughts, that's just sloppy. It would work better as a one-shot.

[Olthar]

No, I meant the whole "I don't sell anything, yet my company is still the biggest one out there!" thing.

Dai does a pretty good job of running it.

They were also the only magitech company in the human world for three years, with lots of pretty toys to sell to Sanchez.

That just means they would have gotten lazy without a competitor to keep them at the top of their game. Why work hard when the people have no choice but to buy your shit? Then Jojo came along being all Steve Jobs about it and revolutionized magitech. Dai and D's company may be a mere three years older, but that does not automatically make them better.

[Liriena]

New one-shot? New one-shot.

1168 AD

On the ash-coated ruins of Arkona, the great pagan temple and fortress, sat a half-naked figure, thin and covered in bruises. Had it not been for its flat chest, one could have confused this beautiful, but broken creature with a woman, another victim of the surprisingly unchristian brutality of the Danish war against the Wends of Rugia. The youthful figure sobbed, the tears only worsening the filthy state of the skin of his feminine face, spreading the blood, grime and ash. His body trembled in the cold air, teeth biting on a broken lower lip, in a desperate attempt to stiffle the sound of anguish and shame.

Marowit, the Wendish god of nightmares, could only stare at the floor. He could not bring himself to look at the corpses of his worshippers, or the rubble of what once had been a place of worship, dedicated to him and his fellow gods. The sense of loss was overwhelming enough already.

The other deities were nowhere to be seen. Most likely, they had ran deep into the woods, seeking refuge from the Christians. If luck was on their side, whatever spirits dwelled in the forests would keep them safe. That was a reassuring thought...but not comforting enough. Not as he sat here, humilliated and in pain. The pain in his bottom was nothing new to him. After all, he had had some past experiences in that regard. But the other pains, the pain of a brutal beating, and the pain of a wounded pride, were not pains that he could possibly disregard.

Yet, for some reason, even while he was filled with unimaginable agony, Marowit could not help but reminisce. And for a small, insignificant moment, he almost managed to see what things had been like, only a few years before, when Arkona still stood, and its inhabitants lived happy lives, worshipping their beloved gods and goddesses.

"There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting"

With a slender hand, Marowit wiped his tears away, even when he knew they would return soon. A sad, nostalgic smile replaced the pout. As he sang, his soft voice almost broke with every syllable. The memories felt almost like warm summer sunlight clashing against his face, even in this conveniently cloudy day.

"There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time"

His voice broke completely, and it took him much effort to get the next five words out. Those words felt terrible as they left his rosy lips. Those words brought him out of that wonderful past, and brought him back to this black and grey reality.

"Then it all went wrong"

Marowit clinged to himself, his own arms providing him a much needed embrace. Then, he began to sing again, a barely noticeable, lopsided smile appearing.

"I dreamed a dream in times gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living"

He remembered that past, a past that had only perished a few months before, but now seemed millions of years away. After all, how could a past so joyous become such a gritty present so swiftly? How could one lose so much in so little time?

"I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed the world would be forgiving"

Truly, who could have expected it all to end? The love that the Wends had for their gods. How could it be butchered so easily? Was it some sort of cosmic punishment? Had the Wendish pantheon committed a sin against this world?

"Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no tribute to be paid
No song unsung
No wine untasted"

Life before had never been perfect, but it had been a life in which most days were sunny, a life free from obligations.

But... Marowit hugged himself tighter, almost crouching as a sob escaped.

"But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame!"

He practically shouted at the end, his voice resonating in the otherwise lifeless air. His face had turned into a sneer, full of grief and rage, and he turned that face to the sky, his eyes accusing.

From the moment he was born, Marowit had had countless people worship him and the others. Common men and women made their gods part of their everyday lives. It was almost like having a thousand families, all of them giving him their unconditional love in exchange for almost nothing.

But now, fate had taken all of them away from him. No one else in this world would worship Marowit. In fact, everyone would most likely forget about him in the next generation. All those small joys were gone, and they would never return.

"They spent the summers by my side
They filled my days with endless wonder
They took my childhood in their stride
But they were gone when autumn came!"

Marowit's bruised body was suddenly filled by tension. There were too many emotions running rampant within the fallen god's heart. So, he stood up, hands turned into tight fists and lying at each side of his body. His stance was feeble, his entire self exhausted and aching, but he stood anyway, tears freely running down his face.

"And still I dream they'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather!"

Yes, even in these conditions, Marowit could not dismiss a lingering hope. Even when everything screamed at him that his was impossible, he still dreamed, even as he suffered the worst tortures. And that only made it all the more excruciating.

"I had a dream my life would be..."

Fingers intertwined in his long blonde hair, almost ripping the soiled, but silky strands from their very roots as he pulled with rage. Between sobs, he spewed his final words, a final cry of anger at a world that had destroyed him.

"...so different from this hell I'm living!
So different now from what it seemed!
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed..."

By the time it began to rain, Marowit's voice had died down. He just stood there, quietly allowing the water to wash away the filth and the tears. With the cold, the raindrops felt like daggers. But Marowit could handle that sensation. In fact, he welcomed it. One pain could replace the other.

No more sobs could be heard in the ruins of Arkona. Only the fall of rain.

Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k6YwuqWFTbc