Elfen High 2: Gotterdammerung

[Rupudska]

Lena took almost an entire minute to answer Yuzuki while her right eye flashed.

"Bad things happen to everyone all the time," was her only response before she moved on to answer the first question, "I enjoy—"

Another pause, this one for about twenty seconds.

"—Reading," she answered, unsure of herself.

Well that was bloody revealing. It's like trying to crack Fort Knox.

"How convenient. As I said before, I happen to be the literature teacher, and know exactly where the library is. I can take you, if you want to go."

[Astrolinium]

Eric raised his eyebrows in alarm and covered his genitalia with his hands. Parnell - who was not quite as modest - said, "I think we'd first like an explanation of why the hell you're in my husband's classroom, interrogating us, interrupting our private time, while we are naked!? That is a locked door!" He pointed at the door to the music room. It had one of those new, hi-tech locks on it that supposedly could not actually be picked; instruments were valuable, being made out of rather a lot of metal.

"Why? The obvious answer is lesbian sex. I am attempting to understand both sides of the same coin. After all, what fun are toys if you cannot understand them to the fullest extent? Humans these days are so strange. As for why I chose now of all times, it was simply the most convenient time for me." She then tilted her head in confusion. "There was a locked door? I quite honestly had no idea. Would you like to tell me the combination so that I can knock next time before entering?"

Eric frowned. "No, we would not. That's the whole point of having it locked!"

Parnell sighed. "Look, there must be some other couple in this damn school having sex somewhere that you could creep in on instead of us!"

"Very well then. I shall remain as is. I apologize again for upsetting you," S.A.M.M.E. responded, "And yes, people still drink tea. It's not a terribly common thing in many parts of the world, but tea has not ceased to exist and is still common elsewhere."

The robot crossed her legs and folded her hands on her lap, adopting a rather casual pose.

"Good," he said, "That's good. I could... I could quite use some tea myself, actually. Some nice black tea; strong, English stuff. Or Indian, I suppose. Is black tea still made in India or have we got some sort of space plantation on Mars by now?" Which, really, begged the strong question of where the hell were all the tin foil suits and jetpacks that people were supposed to have.

At which point, he remembered the bit with getting his powers under control. "Oh, yes, contact information. Ummm... Wallace and Fatima gave me a... I think it's a mobile telephone? I've never used it though; frankly, I'm not sure how."

[Olthar]

Lena stared for a while.

"Will I find friends at the library? I have to make friends right now."

---

---

S.A.M.M.E. nodded.

"There is a refreshments table over there. I am sure you will find some tea on it, assuming that the demon hasn't inhaled it all," she commented, "And I can show you how to use your phone if you want. I'm quite talented with technology as you might imagine."

[Astrolinium]

Caspian smiled. He openly and honestly smiled. He stood up, nearly skipped over to the refreshments table, and poured himself a small cup of black tea. The cup was a good, roundish tea cup, with a nice handle, and there was a saucer that came with it. He grabbed a spoon, spooned in a little bit of sugar, and then he stirred the tea. Returning to where had been, he sat down, and lifted the cup up from the saucer, waving it about under his nose. He inhaled deeply and let out a relaxed sigh.

"Ahhhhhh... Earl Grey."

He took a grateful sip of the tea, and then said, "Yes, I think it would be quite wonderful if you could show me how to use my phone."

[Mavorpen]

Eric frowned. "No, we would not. That's the whole point of having it locked!"

Parnell sighed. "Look, there must be some other couple in this damn school having sex somewhere that you could creep in on instead of us!"

"Are you saying that the purpose of locks are to cause people to knock, or the purpose of locks are to keep them out? Because the former doesn't sound correct to me. Ah well, I get the general gist of what you're saying." Turning to Parnell, she nodded. "You're probably right. Plus, I haven't even unpacked my things into my office yet. So many things to do, so many people to scar for life. See ya." With a snap of her fingers, she was gone.

[Rupudska]

Lena stared for a while.

"Will I find friends at the library? I have to make friends right now."

She shrugged. "As good a place as any to look, since just about everyone not here will be in the library. And I reiterate, friendships don't form spontaneously."

[Astrolinium]

With Eric gone, Eric and Parnell breath a sigh of relief. The two kissed passionately, and began to thrust against one another. When the kiss broke off, they stared intently into each other's eyes.

"Hey Eric," Parnell said, "what's 3 x 23?"

Eric grinned mischievously. "Why don't you demonstrate for me?"

[Nightkill the Emperor]

With Eric gone, Eric and Parnell breath a sigh of relief. The two kissed passionately, and began to thrust against one another. When the kiss broke off, they stared intently into each other's eyes.

"Hey Eric," Parnell said, "what's 3 x 23?"

Eric grinned mischievously. "Why don't you demonstrate for me?"

Crowley grinned. "Indeed." he said, appearing visible for the first time, standing behind Eric.

Then things happened. And the screaming began.

Then the couple found themselves laying naked outside the auditorium/lunchroom, feeling trauma.

[Astrolinium]

Eric rolled off of Parnell and the couple just lay there in shock. Eventually, they burst out laughing - probably trying to cope with the trauma, poor dears.
Eric said, "You know, Parnell, I know I said I was open to a threesome if you thought it'd spice things up, but... I never planned on getting that intimate with our boss."

The two grasped each others' hands. Parnell wasn't half as modest as Eric, and Eric was... used to being teleported places in the nude.

[Mavorpen]

With Eric gone, Eric and Parnell breath a sigh of relief. The two kissed passionately, and began to thrust against one another. When the kiss broke off, they stared intently into each other's eyes.

"Hey Eric," Parnell said, "what's 3 x 23?"

Eric grinned mischievously. "Why don't you demonstrate for me?"

Crowley grinned. "Indeed." he said, appearing visible for the first time, standing behind Eric.

Then things happened. And the screaming began.

Then the couple found themselves laying naked outside the auditorium/lunchroom, feeling trauma.

Tiny Eris appeared on the shoulder of Crowley and sat down. "Very good work. I hope this means that they will visit me in my office sometime. By the way, I never formally thanked you for giving me this job." She bowed slightly. "So, thank you. I'm also sorry for threatening to rip off your penis."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Sanchez was busy knitting a sweater in a very manly sort of way. Knitting was really quite a good way to get some stress off his mind. He once tried to encourage this hobby among his subordinates, but Shung took him aside and explained that many soldiers had signed up for the ISSR for many reasons. Some wanted to see other cultures and worlds. Some were fascinated by the scientific aspect. Some wanted to be among humanity's line of defence against magical forces.

Very few of them had interest in knitting. Sanchez kept a knitting club just the same, but there were not very many members. Mostly just some women and a few men who didn't like women. Sanchez didn't mind if others couldn't appreciate this magnificent sport.

He was continuously irked by the fact Shung's marching band club continued to have massive membership. Fuck marching band, that wasn't even a sport. Knitting was. It took skill.

But Sanchez was knitting right now out of nervousness. He was a veteran of several battles, a warrior through and through and he had stood many without a flinch or wince. But right now he was going to preform a very personal and potentially lethal mission. Crowley wouldn't like it at all, so Sanchez hadn't told him.

"Sir, I believe that we really should look at the thing that happened outside of Kenya..." a soldier tried to explain as Sanchez put away his needle and thread, but kept the sweater in his hands.

"Not now." Sanchez said simply and bluntly. "I'm going to try to get just outside Elfen High's field. Does the teleporter work?"

"The teleporter, sir, only links to another teleporter, but yes, we've stationed one just outside the school. You have maybe five minutes before it is noticed."

"All I need, with any luck." Sanchez said, rubbing his chin in anxiety. "Wish me luck. I'm not sure how this will turn out."

So then Sanchez walked through the portal in his ISSR base...and appeared next to a large boulder that was just outside the EH campus, but still in a rather strange and magical zone. He held the sweater with one slightly shaking hand, took a few breaths and leaned against the rock.

A minute later, he saw the person he was looking for. "Hello, Megan." he smiled and gave her the sweater. It had a teddy bear hugging another one. "So, um, I was here to ask a rather personal question...do you want to go out to dinner?"

Megan Jameson smiled a big Megan Jameson smile - the first in about ten years - the kind that was typically accompanied by dramatic lighting and cherry pop song bullshit.

This one was simply accompanied by the sound of wind and Sanchez' rapidly beating heart.

"That depends, soldier boy," she said as she took the sweater, "do you want to go to dinner? I'm the one with Seward's money, after all. I should pay."

Sanchez rewired some of his brain. This was a challenging test. Did the woman pay? Did the man pay? What if the woman offered? Sanchez always tended to insist on paying, but this was Megan. She was a bit...different from the norm. This was a tough decision for him...

"How about we split the bill?" he offered. "I have an excellent restaurant booked as well, you'll love it. Are you ready to go?"

[Nationstatelandsville]

Megan Jameson smiled a big Megan Jameson smile - the first in about ten years - the kind that was typically accompanied by dramatic lighting and cherry pop song bullshit.

This one was simply accompanied by the sound of wind and Sanchez' rapidly beating heart.

"That depends, soldier boy," she said as she took the sweater, "do you want to go to dinner? I'm the one with Seward's money, after all. I should pay."

Sanchez rewired some of his brain. This was a challenging test. Did the woman pay? Did the man pay? What if the woman offered? Sanchez always tended to insist on paying, but this was Megan. She was a bit...different from the norm. This was a tough decision for him...

"How about we split the bill?" he offered. "I have an excellent restaurant booked as well, you'll love it. Are you ready to go?"

Megan punched him in the arm.

"Don't argue with me, Rick," she laughed, "Whenever you are."

[Ende]

Ivy pointed at Crowley.

"Az...I mean, Mr. Angel," she said, rather amused at his ridiculous "codename", "Crowley is in charge. That man. I'm not entirely sure if you want to talk to him, though. He's...interesting. Not always in a good way, though."

That was quite possibly the greatest understatement of all time.

Aziraphale let out a high-pitched scream, grabbed Ivy's knife, and attempted to slit his own throat.

Ivy snapped her fingers, and in an instant, the table spouted arms and grabbed Aziraphale's arms mid-slice.

"Don't be a dumbass." she snapped, civility vanishing instantly, her green eyes flaring, wrenching her knife out of his trapped fingers. "That was entirely unnecessary, Brother Az...Mr. Angel." she remarked coldly, prying the knife from his tightly-gripping hands and shoving it back into the pocket of her dress. She sighed, calming down slightly.

"You don't have to speak to Crowley."

[Nationstatelandsville]

Aziraphale let out a high-pitched scream, grabbed Ivy's knife, and attempted to slit his own throat.

Ivy snapped her fingers, and in an instant, the table spouted arms and grabbed Aziraphale's arms mid-slice.

"Don't be a dumbass." she snapped, civility vanishing instantly, her green eyes flaring, wrenching her knife out of his trapped fingers. "That was entirely unnecessary, Brother Az...Mr. Angel." she remarked coldly, prying the knife from his tightly-gripping hands and shoving it back into the pocket of her dress. She sighed, calming down slightly.

"You don't have to speak to Crowley."

"This will not stop him!" Aziraphale blubbered, "Crowley is an unyielding force of sin, smashing through all moral boundaries and flooding the minds beyond! He is a tsunami of depravity! A volcano of wickedness! Not just a wizard, but a Satanic witch! He will burn down love, raze the crop of bliss, salt the fields of divinity, and relive the women of faith of their celibacy! He is a shameless barbarian who carries a blade of vice! No shield of virute can defend against him! He is unstoppable.

He is my friend! Save me, Ivy, oh my Lord..."

[Erinkita]

The height of the female before him would have been a laughing matter, if Marowit had not noticed her ancient-looking features. Yes, this girl was actually old, probably older than him. This was not exactly unusual for him, but it was still an interesting encounter.

"Ah, yes...I am professor Marowit." He said, offering the youthful-yet-old-looking girl a courteous hand with a faked fiery grin. He was still too tired to be genuinely enthusiastic about anything. "So...I am not the only history teacher in this venue? Well, that's a relief."

If students proved to be half as bizarre as the individuals he was watching right now, wreaking havoc throughout the lunchroom, then Marowit wanted nothing more than to have the horrors remain as minor as possible.

"Five hundred?" He mused out loud as the girl pointed him towards that handsome yet seemingly unstable man. Apparently, the name of this man was Lazarian. A pleasant name for such a disturbing person. It reminded him of an old friend, whose middle name was Lazar. "I remember being five hundred years old...not the best part of my life, unfortunately...although it's still not as bad as my pregnancy..."

His mind was lost in reverie. The image of his stomach swollen, carrying a Frost Giant, was still as vivid as eight hundred years before. The experience had been all around awful, which might have been the cause of his lifelong reluctance to have children. As he reminisced, his eyes, lost in the pictures of the past, lingered on Lazarian, who was eating in what seemed to be the most revoltingly feral manner imaginable.

"Ugh..." He barely stopped himself from gagging as he focused on that sight. On the bright side, it had brought a swift end to his awkward remembrances, forcing him to turn his attention back to the girl. "...anyway...You know my name, but I am unaware of yours. Also...do you know where Sir Crowley is?"

Sisitu nodded amiably and shook the androynous god's delicate hand. He seemed to be making an effort to appear enthused, but she suspected it wasn't just because of her. She considered asking him what was wrong, but thought the better of it. If he's trying to hide it, best not to acknowledge it. This was the new Sisitu. Fresh-start Sisitu, being courteous with her colleagues.

"To be honest, I'm relieved too. I'm quite rusty when it comes to educating. If I screw everything up, there will still be someone who knows what he's doing."
She paused, watching some of the antics in the hall. A headless robot. A tightly-wound angel. Some woman in a business suit who seemed to be making the man with two katanas extremely nervous. Would anyone notice a screw-up around here?

"Five hundred was an bad age for me too. I'd moved past denial and on to anger by then." She gave a half-smile. "Pregnancy is one of the most bloody, unpleasant things a person can go through, but the rewards are commeasurate with the suffering."
She would summon her baby tonight, she decided. Later, when she was alone. Just to be with it.The comfort of the familiar amid chaos would help her settle in. She and Marowit both seemed lost in thought, but they conveniently came back to reality at about the same time.
"Sisitu," she said with a smile not quite as forced as his. She expected a history teacher, especially an old one, to recognise its linguistic origins "And Crowley... I'm not sure. He's quite different to how I remember him, you know. Back when he was a child--or when he looked like one, anyway--he wasn't so... bombastic. More angry and confused. We never never friends, but... I'm honestly impressed at what he's been able to accomplish. Oh, there he is." She pointed to the open doors of the dining hall, where Crowley stood naked with a pair of equally undressed men she didn't recognise. It was difficult to see from the other side of the room, but the tiny thing on his shoulder appeared to be a shrunken version the suit-wearing woman. She gave a curious glance to the man to her left, who had seemed so anxious when she entered earlier.

Just as the two history teachers stared at the unusual sight, the angel to her right had begun to rant and rave at Ivy about the depths of Crowley's moral depravity. It made a nice companion piece, she felt.

[Constaniana]

Sir Eldliam Nilark looked in the doorway of Elfen High's cafeteria, looking upon the chaos, eating and occasional bum-sex going on. Has it really been twelve years since I was first here?... he thought, smiling a little as he began remembering his first Elfen High banquet. Now, who was it that exploded through the wall?... Eldliam tried remembering which person had actually done it, although he seemed to remember quite a few people doing it.

And suddenly, Dunefiend.

The wall exploded (the 4th wall wall on the left, to be precise), and a massive bear shambled in, causing a few freshman and Brian to defecate in their underwear. He looked around, sniffed the air, and immediately went to work stealing every piece of fried chicken in the room. At some point in this process, which nobody seemed to object to except for a few new students, the bear transformed into Daniel Savatar, former soldier of the Bear Cavalry, fugitive from the French government, and the head of the Elfen High P.E department for the last two years. Sir Eldliam shook his head, chuckling at his old friend's antics. He debated between simply going to his classroom and setting things up there, or seeing how many people he recognized in the cafeteria. Meanwhile, Daniel continued to pillage fried chicken.

[Liriena]

Lifted eyebrows were the only facial expression Marowit could muster as he stared at the three naked figures. A few times, Marowit slightly parted his lips, thinking about saying something in response to this turn of events. But every time he was about to speak, he hesitated. What was he supposed to say? Those were three grown, rather unattractive men, naked and apparently exhausted after...well...a very obvious activity.

"To think I left Oxford to save myself from this shit..." He finally said, mostly to himself, eyes casted to the heavens as he facepalmed. Why did homosexual debauchery follow him wherever he went? In Cambridge, there were homosexual orgies every sunday. In Oxford, half of the male students were prostitutes, and the other half were regular customers. And Texas? The memories from his short career as a history teacher in that Bible-thumping, sister-banging hellhole were best left repressed, along with his seventh honeymoon and the day he first met Crowley.

"Well...I suppose I might as well go and speak to the man." He said, forcing himself to smile at Sisitu. "Feel free to come with me. I would really enjoy having a longer conversation with you. Just...don't look below their waists."

With that said, Marowit began to walk towards the trio of naked men, hoping that him wearing a heavy fur coat would not prove too disturbing for the nudists. Actually, as he got closer to them, he realized it was probably best if he kept all these clothes on. He had long since learned to recognize the smell of gay lust, and the place were the three now stood just reeked of it. And, to be perfectly honest, Marowit really did not feel like being lusted at by anyone, let alone becoming aroused at this ungodly hour, especially when his regular gay sexting buddies were probably sleeping or shagging with their wives.

"Sir Crowley, if you would stop whatever pagan sexual ritual you are performing and grace me with your attention..." He said once he finally stood ten feet away from them, voice sounding as bored as his eyes looked. Really, there was nothing impressive about any of these men. Well, except for Crowley. I've seen bigger...but still...wow...

Well, that sure explained why, once upon a time, one of his husbands had decided that Crowley, of all people, was worth the risk of being caught cheating on the Wendish god of nightmares. Oh, Henry...I wonder if you still live in fear of the face-eating penis-monster.

In hindsight, the memory was hilarious, now that he thought about it. It had probably been one of the most creative ways in which Marowit had ever used his power, convincing his unfaithful husband that penises were actually monsters with huge, poisonous fangs. Taking into account Crowley's size, it was likely that Henry would have a heart attack if he ever caught another glance of that...thing. Where the hell...does he get the blood for that...thing...

"I...do hope you remember me, Sir Crowley. I'm Marowit Wendish...the anthropologist you hired to teach history to those glorified amoebas you call students?" He introduced himself, hastily withdrawing his eyesight from that abomination, and waving a hand with a mocking, toothy smile. "I apologize for being late...but I am sure you understand how irresistible it is to have sex during breakfast."

[Mavorpen]

"Sir Crowley, if you would stop whatever pagan sexual ritual you are performing and grace me with your attention..." He said once he finally stood ten feet away from them, voice sounding as bored as his eyes looked. Really, there was nothing impressive about any of these men, especially Crowley. The latter made him wonder why, once upon a time, one of his husbands had decided that Crowley, of all people, was worth the risk of being caught cheating on the Wendish god of nightmares. Oh, Henry...I wonder if you still live in fear of the face-eating penis-monster. The memory was astoundingly amusing, now that he thought about it. It had probably been one of the most creative ways in which Marowit had ever used his power, convincing his unfaithful husband that penises were actually monsters with huge, poisonous fangs.

Eris, still sitting on Crowley's shoulder scowled. "How dare you!? Are you serious! What an offensive statement concerning pagan rituals! I assure you, pagan sexual rituals are significantly more fun than what has just occurred here. The amount of ass, tits and penises is breathtaking."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Crowley glanced at Eris. "Thank you for that, Eris." he said as a suit appeared on his body. "Marowit, yes? Good to meet you once more." The Brit said politely, shaking the other teacher's hand. He knew Marowit, even if only poorly, but one had to keep up standards and manners.

In the middle of a hallway where surprise anal sex had just occurred. Standards had to be kept.

He shrugged. "There is no worry in being late. We are a rather casual and laid back institution." Crowley explained to Marowit. It was a bit of a redundant statement, more likely than not. He glanced past the anthropologist and nodded at Sisitu. "And how have the last few centuries treated you, my dear? We did not talk much at Fixban's funeral."

It was surprising how rapidly he could switch from a hedonistic sex beast to a dapper British gentlemen. This is a skill people tend to pick up after a while, and Crowley had perfected it.

[Astrolinium]

This post serves no other purpose than to note that Eric suddenly remembered he had magic powers, at which point he whistled ZZ Top's Sharp Dressed Man and both he and Parnell found themselves wearing expensive suits.

[Erinkita]

Sisitu followed the Wendish god, more amused by his exasperation than than offended. She didn't find the nudity at all bothersome, not even Crowley's impressive appendage. She had met Priapus, after all. What bothered was the tiny woman sitting on his shoulder, admonishing Marowit for speaking poorly of sex rituals. There was just something unsettling about that. When Crowley addressed her as Eris, Sisitu groaned inwardly. Chaos gods. The only thing worse than a wrathful deity was a deity who thought it was a comedian.
She gave Crowley's two companions what she hoped was a comforting smile, since they looked like suddenly appearing here was a bit of an unpleasant surprise, before one of them summoned fine clothing apparently through the power of music. A useful ability to have, certainly.

She returned Crowley's nod. "I've gained what you could call a family since we parted ways in the 13th century. You'll meet it at some point, I'm sure. Mostly I've spent the last few centuries trying to stay out of history's way and avoid anything that could be described as "interesting times". Not always successfully, mind you. And then I woke up one day and realised the future had happened without me. So here I am, trying to write a bit of it myself for once."

[Liriena]

"...Eris?" Marowit lifted his brows a little bit as he saw who the creature on Crowley's shoulder was. As his conclussions were confirmed, he let out a chuckle. "My goodness, you truly are the same unremarkable Eris I've heard so much about!"

He gave the shrunken Greek goddess a gentle, condescending pat on the head. His smile was practically the same he gave to the children of his friends, and the occasional stray cat or puppy that he came across. "And here I thought I would never see a member of the Greek pantheon in these lands. Sir Crowley, I am surprised you failed to tell me about this when we met."

Marowit then turned his eyes to the other two naked men.

"I presume these two fine gentlemen are part of your staff?" He enquired, pointing a languid finger at their crotches. While Crowley was obviously capable of instantly bringing some proper British decor to this conversation, the other two had obviously been either incapable or unwilling. If it had been any of his former husbands, Marowit would not have minded, but these two were obviously not ex-husbands of his and, in fact, they were not quite his cup of tea. Not that Marowit had never lowered his standards for anyone. After all, he had enjoyed one too many nights of passion with Loki.

"If this is the school's etiquette when it comes to the attires of your staff, Sir Crowley, let me assure you, Sir Crowley, that I have no intention of wearing anything less than my Victoria's Secret lingeries...or my seventh husband's leather outfits..."

Ah, the memories...! All that leather...the crack of a whip...the pain of hot wax...and the fox fursuit... Once again, he was lost in the memories of a bizarre and mostly depressing past. Although, these memories in particular were very...pleasant to remember.

"He was a sexologist...Very...fond of experiments...and...of course...we cooperated...for science..." He mused, blushing a deep red as he reminisced on those four years of rough sex. It had been his worst marriage, but the sex had been at the top five. In the corner of his eye, he saw that the two men had finally put some clothes on. Thank you, Shiva...

[Mavorpen]

"...Eris?" Marowit lifted his brows a little bit as he saw who the creature on Crowley's shoulder was. As his conclussions were confirmed, he let out a chuckle. "My goodness, you truly are the same unremarkable Eris I've heard so much about!"

He gave the shrunken Greek goddess a gentle, condescending pat on the head. His smile was practically the same he gave to the children of his friends, and the occasional stray cat or puppy that he came across. "And here I thought I would never see a member of the Greek pantheon in these lands. Sir Crowley, I am surprised you failed to tell me about this when we met."

Eris wasn't offended at all, nor was she upset. She was too preoccupied. She was struggling to remember who in the world this person was. Crowley had said his name was Marowit. She had never seen him before at all, obviously. She felt as though she should know him, or at least have heard of him. When he pat her on the head, she for some reason began purring like a kitten. That was a bad habit that she had never gotten rid of, unfortunately.

She suddenly shouted. "I've heard of you before!" After an awkward, 10 second pause, she shrugged. "I got nothing. I sincerely have never heard of you. I feel awful about this. And after you had gone and pat me on the head."

[Mavorpen]

So, wondering what she should do, she noticed that there was a welcoming sign, and the paint wasn't right in one part. Thus, she took her notebook, a blue one that had "Lyra" written in black ink on the cover, and opened it. She began drawing said sign, copying it to near perfection, and corrected the paint. Then suddenly, the real sign corrected itself as well, and Lyra smiled.

"A little kindness goes a long way." She thought to herself.

Suddenly the sign burst into flames. The words disappeared and the sign itself grew pitch black. It began to grow spires which resembled horns on the vertices. Serpents wrapped around these spires, pausing every few seconds and then continuing to slither along. Bony fingers began to grow out of the wall behind the sign, pushing the sign outwards. The fingers wrapped around the sides of the sign, and a skull appeared above the sign, smiling sadistically. One word reappeared on the sign: Welcome. Something seemed to be dripping from the words, as though fresh paint had been applied. It was in fact, blood. Eris appeared next to Lyra, floating in the air with her legs crossed, and smiled. "I think it looks better this way, personally."

[Liriena]

I hate you, Wikipedia... Marowit groaned internally, but kept a smile on his face as he tried to give Eris the necessary information, without going into a hate-filled rant against history's shameful treatment of Wendish mythology, and especially the Wendish god of nightmares.

"I am Marowit, god of nightmares of the Wends, who have long-since vanished." He managed to say, keeping a noble and prideful tone, but silently scoffing at himself as he did so. Most people in the world had never heard of the Wends, let alone their gods. And even if they had, they were more likely to take someone Quetzalcóatl seriously, than some androgynous bunch of immortal Polish immigrants with weird names. A sad reality he had learned to live with. "...and that's all the official information you will ever get on me. Of course, I could also tell you the tale about my hundreds of years living in England. But I don't want to bore you...and there is no piano to accompany me as I sing that story."