Elfen High 2: Gotterdammerung

[Norvenia]

Daniel nodded. "A doorway is open too, and you can't move when you're bunched up in it. The roof gives us room to maneuver, which we don't have when we have to move from doorway to doorway. It's not safe, but it gives us more options. And it lets us take whatever bad guys are left inside the train by surprise, by attacking from above." The priest sighed. "It's not great, but it's our best option right now. It gives us more choices. If we choose right, none of us needs to get shot." Daniel glanced around. "Are you all ready?"

[Astrolinium]

Caspian raised his hand. He gestured with his toy sonic screwdriver and asked, "Can I have a real weapon that isn't this toy? I'd very much like to not die - even if this isn't reality." He imagined pain would exist in this simulation, and he was most definitely not a fan of pain. He imagined he would not be fond at all of the pain that would accompany being shot.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Suddenly, from somewhere in Elfen High, one could hear screams. Divia had somehow come across the forum for a site called "NationStates", and she had stumbled on the most active part of said forum: General.

What she saw there, again, will be detailed in a future oneshot, but she was horrified. She ran out of her room in horror screaming her head off.

Where she ended up in I'll leave to either Night or Nat.

I should be a nice person and let her relax after the horrors of General.

Nah.

Divia ran right into Eris.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Daniel touched Caspian's arm. "Easy, lad," he murmured. "Stay there." The priest stepped in front of the Indian businessman, between him and the mob. "Listen to me now," he said, voice earnest and seemingly quiet, although it filled the train car. "Listen. There's no way to know whether this man is a Muslim. All you have is the word of this man. He could be crazy. He could owe this guy money. He could just be plain wrong. There are twenty million people in this city, and its surrounding areas. How many do you think look just like this fellow? But I'll tell you one thing." Daniel stepped forward, hands still spread. "Whatever he is, I know what you are. You are good Hindus. You know what's right, and what's wrong. And if you kill this man, knowing that he might not be a Muslim, knowing that he might not be a terrorist even if he is a Muslim - then the stain upon your souls will not be washed away within this lifetime, and I dare not even think in what form you will return to this world." Daniel sighed, let his hands fall. "So please, for all our sakes - sit down. No one else needs to die today."

With that, Daniel leaned slightly over and murmured to Takao: "If they rush you, try not to kill them. No more force then you need to stay alive, and to keep our friend there alive." With that, Daniel clapped the samurai on the shoulder, and moved swiftly forward toward the front of the train.

When he caught up with the students, he stepped in front of them and raised his hands. "Listen!" Daniel snapped. "If we go right through the door of the compartment and into the car where they're massacring people, we're going to get killed. Okay? We'll be bunched up in the doorway, a clearly delineated target, with only one or two of us able to do anything at any given moment. They'll hose us down, and we'll die." Daniel took a deep breath. "Here's what we need to do. Head out the doors here now, and onto the roof of the train. There are plenty of people already riding up there, God knows. It'll be tricky to climb up while the train is moving, but not as tricky as dodging bullets. Move up along the roof until you reach the car where the shooting is happening. Then, on my go, swing down through the windows of that car. We'll take them by surprise, surround them in an instant, enable ourselves to attack simultaneously with all of our abilities, and leave the bad guys without a clear target on which to focus their fire. The car will be clear in seconds." Daniel raised his eyebrows. "We do this my way, we all go home - or at least out of the simulation - alive. Clear?"

The Indians seemed ashamed and kept themselves from ripping the Muslim man to shreds. The man himself seemed relieved and his accuser gave him a sheepish apology. They had nearly worked themselves into a very massive panic and would have done the terrorist's job for them.

The man who had accused the Muslim gave Caspian his handgun, so he could actually fight in this situation.

When they climbed up to the roof, they would feel the wind blowing against them and nearly knocking them off at first. But there were plenty of people there who had been safely resting, though they cowered now. The train was moving relatively slowly right now, at only 20 km/hr- they didn't want to knock off their own terrorists as well.

There were a handful standing up there, firing at any Hindus who were standing up instead of cowering down. They currently occupied the first three cars, but were moving forward to kill those who were sprawled down to avoid the bullets.

[Condunum]

Takao realize that Daniel left him back there alone. With a bunch of people. Pele who weren't real, but seemed real enough for him to care. So he began to walk through the crowd, calling out to the people in English, "Is everyone okay? Is anyone hurt and in need of immediate help?" Here, he knew he would be of big help. He was quite the healer, as he had been the goto man on the battlefield for quick healing. "If anyone needs help, please call out, I will come to help you."

Meanwhile, Jacob listened to Daniel, and nodded. "you're right the roof is best."

So when they got up there, Jacob looked forward and could hear gunshots, but didn't know how close they were to them. "Should we move forward?" he asked stupidly, and then flexed his metal glove. He figured it wouldn't be much use right now, so he held his arm to his side so he didn't accidentally hit someone.

[Norvenia]

Daniel took a deep breath, sticking low to the roof of the car. He drew a Colt 1911 from within his cassock; the priest rarely went unarmed since Uriel had started trying to have him killed, and the simulation seemed to have registered that. Here we go. Daniel paused to glance back. "Anyone without a ranged weapon stay back for now, and stay low. Folk with guns, or ranged powers, move forward with me."

In one smooth motion, Daniel rose to his feet. He braced his pistol in a two-handed grip, and lined the sights up over the nearest terrorist. The man was still several cars away, on a moving train, in a stiff wind. For almost anyone, it would be an impossible shot.

Daniel Andreas had lived for five centuries in continuous violent struggle against the worst creatures the world had to offer. He was not almost anyone.

The pistol roared twice in Daniel's hand as he fired. Double-tap. His eyes not wavering from his sights, Daniel began to walk rapidly forward along the top of the train, shifting his point of aim. Push the pace. Shoot them down before they know what's happening. Another figure filled Daniel's sight picture. Double-tap. Without breaking stride, the priest smoothly leaped from one car to the next, closing the distance, and rolled on his shoulder as he landed to throw off the aim of anyone still shooting at him. Like an uncoiling spring, he surged smoothly back to his feet, pistol aimed straight at another man as he continued his advance. Double-tap.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Voltaire had listened to the priest's words and had climbed up along with everyone else, despite being aware of his limitations. He simply stood back for the time being, however, the eyes beneath his mask watching carefully.

---

Meanwhile, back down on the car was Lyra, who was not as brave or daring as the others and so had decided to stay back and possibly help if it was ever needed. She certainly wasn't looking forward to fighting armed people, even though that was technically the point of the simulation. Thus, she simply stayed down there. She had not yet fully recovered from her earlier energy expenditure, after all.

[Mavorpen]

Eris was bored. She was so very bored. Since her favorite playmates were either out on the "adventure" or in the simulation, she didn't have much to do. And to make matters worse, that annoying voice was back. Let's go destroy a city, it called out in the back of her mind. She sighed. "Shut up, Enyo..." she muttered to herself. And so, she simply wandered the halls of Elfen High.

She then bumped into Divia, who was for whatever reason running through the hallway while screaming. Eris simply watched her as Divia ran past her, then appeared next to her, floating beside Divia as she ran through the hallway. "What's with you?" she simply asked.

[Nationstatelandsville]

In Argentina, Sergeant Fischer sighed. Some other soldiers came up to the group, their guns readied. "Alright," the Sergeant said, "Let's go to the APC. The Colonel will be pissed if we don't bring you there on time."

"But, Lord Sergeant Merrygold Fischer," Aziraphale said, pouting a bit, "this Colonel is a very bad man. I do not think you are a bad man. Why would you serve a bad man if you are not yourself bad? You could rebel and try to defeat him, or simply get on your trusty horse and slay the dastardly windmills of Argentina. Or communist llamas, as it were. The world always needs knights errant, from what I gather. You could take the bellhop as your plucky sidekick!"

[Nude East Ireland]

In Argentina, Sergeant Fischer sighed. Some other soldiers came up to the group, their guns readied. "Alright," the Sergeant said, "Let's go to the APC. The Colonel will be pissed if we don't bring you there on time."

"But, Lord Sergeant Merrygold Fischer," Aziraphale said, pouting a bit, "this Colonel is a very bad man. I do not think you are a bad man. Why would you serve a bad man if you are not yourself bad? You could rebel and try to defeat him, or simply get on your trusty horse and slay the dastardly windmills of Argentina. Or communist llamas, as it were. The world always needs knights errant, from what I gather. You could take the bellhop as your plucky sidekick!"

The Sergeant shrugged. "If I don't work for him, I'll be worse off than I was before - when I was living on the streets as an urchin."

Then the PCs were all shoved into the APC. It was crammed and smelled like shit, but it was pretty well-made. After a few minutes of uncomfortable riding, the APC slowed and then stopped. The door opened, and the Sergeant exited first. He escorted the PCs out, where they found themselves in a docking bay of sorts. The warehouse door closed, and a large number of soldiers made it known to the PCs that they were outnumbered.

The Sergeant led the group down the hallway from the loading dock, towards a less-dingy part of the warehouse. To be honest, it was more like a military base.

They came to an office, where Sergeant Fischer sat down, his SMG still at his side and ready for use. The man James had freed earlier - Eraldo - was strapped to the wall, beaten and bloody. At the far side of the room was the Colonel, who sat at his desk filling out paperwork. He looked up, and nodded to the group - namely Crowley.

"Welcome to my base," he said quietly.

[Nationstatelandsville]

"But, Lord Sergeant Merrygold Fischer," Aziraphale said, pouting a bit, "this Colonel is a very bad man. I do not think you are a bad man. Why would you serve a bad man if you are not yourself bad? You could rebel and try to defeat him, or simply get on your trusty horse and slay the dastardly windmills of Argentina. Or communist llamas, as it were. The world always needs knights errant, from what I gather. You could take the bellhop as your plucky sidekick!"

The Sergeant shrugged. "If I don't work for him, I'll be worse off than I was before - when I was living on the streets as an urchin."

Then the PCs were all shoved into the APC. It was crammed and smelled like shit, but it was pretty well-made. After a few minutes of uncomfortable riding, the APC slowed and then stopped. The door opened, and the Sergeant exited first. He escorted the PCs out, where they found themselves in a docking bay of sorts. The warehouse door closed, and a large number of soldiers made it known to the PCs that they were outnumbered.

The Sergeant led the group down the hallway from the loading dock, towards a less-dingy part of the warehouse. To be honest, it was more like a military base.

They came to an office, where Sergeant Fischer sat down, his SMG still at his side and ready for use. The man James had freed earlier - Eraldo - was strapped to the wall, beaten and bloody. At the far side of the room was the Colonel, who sat at his desk filling out paperwork. He looked up, and nodded to the group - namely Crowley.

"Welcome to my base," he said quietly.

Aziraphale blinked (he tends to do that).

"I do not think he is enjoying himself," he said, gesturing towards Eraldo, "Rather, I think he is in quite a bit of pain. You should not let your friends be in pain, Lord the Colonel."

With an implied respectful bow and a smile that would have happened if he was a human, Aziraphale stepped slowly towards Eraldo and attempted to cut his bonds with a blade of ice.

"Walls are not enjoyable," he noted.

[Nude East Ireland]

The Sergeant shrugged. "If I don't work for him, I'll be worse off than I was before - when I was living on the streets as an urchin."

Then the PCs were all shoved into the APC. It was crammed and smelled like shit, but it was pretty well-made. After a few minutes of uncomfortable riding, the APC slowed and then stopped. The door opened, and the Sergeant exited first. He escorted the PCs out, where they found themselves in a docking bay of sorts. The warehouse door closed, and a large number of soldiers made it known to the PCs that they were outnumbered.

The Sergeant led the group down the hallway from the loading dock, towards a less-dingy part of the warehouse. To be honest, it was more like a military base.

They came to an office, where Sergeant Fischer sat down, his SMG still at his side and ready for use. The man James had freed earlier - Eraldo - was strapped to the wall, beaten and bloody. At the far side of the room was the Colonel, who sat at his desk filling out paperwork. He looked up, and nodded to the group - namely Crowley.

"Welcome to my base," he said quietly.

Aziraphale blinked (he tends to do that).

"I do not think he is enjoying himself," he said, gesturing towards Eraldo, "Rather, I think he is in quite a bit of pain. You should not let your friends be in pain, Lord the Colonel."

With an implied respectful bow and a smile that would have happened if he was a human, Aziraphale stepped slowly towards Eraldo and attempted to cut his bonds with a blade of ice.

"Walls are not enjoyable," he noted.

Aziraphale managed to cut one of Eraldo's binds free, before the Angel was knocked back by a blast of air. The Colonel snapped his fingers, smirking as he did.

Behind him, a previously unseen beast arose. It was about 8 feet tall, and made up of fur as white as the snow. Attached to its wrists were gauntlets that had blades on them, useful for stabbing things as well as punching them. It had three eyes, and huge teeth for crunching prey. Ice Trolls, motherfucker.

One Ice Troll leapt at Aziraphale, grabbing the Angel and charging through the concrete wall. A second Ice Troll lunged at the rest of the group, its eyes filled with rage.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

The melting didn't work, because the ISSR aren't stupid. They aren't going to give a pyrokinetic meltable cuffs. That would make them so idiotic that Sanchez would deserve a gunshot in the penis.

Speaking of Sanchez

---

"THAT'S RIGHT! DRIVE IT HARDER!"

---

We should stop speaking of Sanchez.

Instead, James received a mild electrical shock. Loki sighed. "Yeah. Probably not the best of ideas there." he pointed out. "In any case, be a bit careful. Here are two things you can do- one, you can put yourself at the mercy of the ISSR. They'll likely give a slap on the wrist, in the end, or they could exile you away and keep you from interacting with the Elfen Highers for a while, especially since you admitted your hatred of them. Politics are an interesting thing. Second, I could break you out."

Heat is a property of natural physics that affects everything ever created. No matter how strong the material is, no matter how high its heat tolerance is, the material will eventually melt.

So the handcuffs melted, and James stretched his arms, rubbing at his wrists. "You aren't breaking me out." James finally answered. "While that would seem the most straightforward and pragmatic route, what that would do is not only make me a wanted fugitive again and end my involvement with both the ISSR and whoever is actually running this operation, but also my involvement with Elfen High and... Outside interests." He clearly wasn't going to elaborate on the latter, and without the psychic link Loki wouldn't know what James meant. "And with resources aimed at recapturing me, not to mention shutting me out of current events, humanity would be even more unprepared when Heaven comes." James stood up and paced around the cell. "You're right, I do need to 'give myself up', as it were. However, my Pride is too much to allow me to do that, and when I know I'm right I always have to keep arguing until everyone agrees with me."

He paused. "This frequently explodes in my face, obviously, but it is a character flaw that won't suddenly disappear from one realization. Shit like that only happens in badly written stories. No, there needs to be a way for me to surrender myself to ISSR control without damaging my Pride." He looked back at Loki, locking eyes with him. He was thinking.

This is never a good thing.

Loki shrugged. "Well, I gave what help I could." he said. Then he gave a wave and disappeared. He had to teleport out very carefully to avoid triggering the alarms of the organisation. Magic adapted to technology, just as technology adapted to magic.

An hour or so passed. Finally, a dozen armed guards came into James' room, holding far more advanced energy weapons, ones that couldn't be exploded by a level 5 pyrokinetic. They also clamped on handcuffs that very specifically blocked the use of magic in the people who currently wore them. Expensive, but worth it right now.

James was led, blindfolded and stripped of weapons, down a hallway. They opened the door and Sanchez, fully clothed, nodded at him. "Good to see you." he said as the guards removed James' blindfold, acting as though he hadn't just been fucking Megan for quite a long time on end. Speaking of Megan, she was sitting next to him, as were a few other ISSR generals.

Shung shrugged to Sanchez. "Personally, I think lifetime imprisonment. I'd say death penalty, but when he respawns in Hell he could cause us quite a bit of trouble."

Sanchez sighed. "No, he probably can still be useful in some ways..."

[Rupudska]

Yuzuki blasted the ice troll with magic bullets in a shotgun-like spray. She instinctively drew her katana and pionted it at the beast. She didn't bother with her armor, she figured she wouldn't need it yet. Save it for the Colonel bastard.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Aziraphale blinked (he tends to do that).

"I do not think he is enjoying himself," he said, gesturing towards Eraldo, "Rather, I think he is in quite a bit of pain. You should not let your friends be in pain, Lord the Colonel."

With an implied respectful bow and a smile that would have happened if he was a human, Aziraphale stepped slowly towards Eraldo and attempted to cut his bonds with a blade of ice.

"Walls are not enjoyable," he noted.

Aziraphale managed to cut one of Eraldo's binds free, before the Angel was knocked back by a blast of air. The Colonel snapped his fingers, smirking as he did.

Behind him, a previously unseen beast arose. It was about 8 feet tall, and made up of fur as white as the snow. Attached to its wrists were gauntlets that had blades on them, useful for stabbing things as well as punching them. It had three eyes, and huge teeth for crunching prey. Ice Trolls, motherfucker.

One Ice Troll leapt at Aziraphale, grabbing the Angel and charging through the concrete wall. A second Ice Troll lunged at the rest of the group, its eyes filled with rage.

Aziraphale was not the smartest man. Not the most informed or well-adjusted. But he did just fine with what he had, just fine.

For example, Newton's Laws of Motion. Of course, he didn't know them as such. It was the angelic philosopher Samyaza who said "If an object is in motion, it shall remain in motion until an outside power acts to stop it". Well, actually, when he said it, there were a lot more random swear words, because he said it while being flogged for being a smart-ass philosopher stating the obvious in a pretentious manner. The copy of his memoirs that Aziraphale read changed that of course, stating he said it while serving the glorious Lord Uriel and then dying of natural causes several moments later, completely unrelated to the sword that was never ran through him, you lying subversive.

That is to say that Aziraphale squirmed out of the ice troll's grip and jumped away from it, waiting for it to collide it with the wall and knock itself out. Assuming that didn't work, he was waiting with his sword.

Heat is a property of natural physics that affects everything ever created. No matter how strong the material is, no matter how high its heat tolerance is, the material will eventually melt.

So the handcuffs melted, and James stretched his arms, rubbing at his wrists. "You aren't breaking me out." James finally answered. "While that would seem the most straightforward and pragmatic route, what that would do is not only make me a wanted fugitive again and end my involvement with both the ISSR and whoever is actually running this operation, but also my involvement with Elfen High and... Outside interests." He clearly wasn't going to elaborate on the latter, and without the psychic link Loki wouldn't know what James meant. "And with resources aimed at recapturing me, not to mention shutting me out of current events, humanity would be even more unprepared when Heaven comes." James stood up and paced around the cell. "You're right, I do need to 'give myself up', as it were. However, my Pride is too much to allow me to do that, and when I know I'm right I always have to keep arguing until everyone agrees with me."

He paused. "This frequently explodes in my face, obviously, but it is a character flaw that won't suddenly disappear from one realization. Shit like that only happens in badly written stories. No, there needs to be a way for me to surrender myself to ISSR control without damaging my Pride." He looked back at Loki, locking eyes with him. He was thinking.

This is never a good thing.

Loki shrugged. "Well, I gave what help I could." he said. Then he gave a wave and disappeared. He had to teleport out very carefully to avoid triggering the alarms of the organisation. Magic adapted to technology, just as technology adapted to magic.

An hour or so passed. Finally, a dozen armed guards came into James' room, holding far more advanced energy weapons, ones that couldn't be exploded by a level 5 pyrokinetic. They also clamped on handcuffs that very specifically blocked the use of magic in the people who currently wore them. Expensive, but worth it right now.

James was led, blindfolded and stripped of weapons, down a hallway. They opened the door and Sanchez, fully clothed, nodded at him. "Good to see you." he said as the guards removed James' blindfold, acting as though he hadn't just been fucking Megan for quite a long time on end. Speaking of Megan, she was sitting next to him, as were a few other ISSR generals.

Shung shrugged to Sanchez. "Personally, I think lifetime imprisonment. I'd say death penalty, but when he respawns in Hell he could cause us quite a bit of trouble."

Sanchez sighed. "No, he probably can still be useful in some ways..."

Megan snorted a bit.

"Aleister Crowley," she giggled, "He's exactly like Aleister Crowley, though neither of them will admit it. An impulsive jack-ass who has problems with authority, pardon my language and Shung, if you ever give me that look again, I will remind you why you should stay in Hell. Of course, Crowley is a bit more mature, and that will be the last time I ever say that.

That said, James knows quite a bit about Loki, someone we should be monitoring right now. If anyone will end the world, it will be the guy who has a penchant for causing trouble for his own amusement and has been prophecized to end it for as long as we've known he existed. And it's not like Loki will visit often while he's in jail, that would bore him.

No, I say you let him back in Elfen High. I can keep an eye on him."

[Individuality-ness]

Eris was bored. She was so very bored. Since her favorite playmates were either out on the "adventure" or in the simulation, she didn't have much to do. And to make matters worse, that annoying voice was back. Let's go destroy a city, it called out in the back of her mind. She sighed. "Shut up, Enyo..." she muttered to herself. And so, she simply wandered the halls of Elfen High.

She then bumped into Divia, who was for whatever reason running through the hallway while screaming. Eris simply watched her as Divia ran past her, then appeared next to her, floating beside Divia as she ran through the hallway. "What's with you?" she simply asked.

"The... the... the horror..." Divia gasped out. She couldn't explain exactly what she saw -- how does one describe something oh so horrible? She had never seen anything like it.

NSG is a horrible place. She was not prepared for it.

[Astrolinium]

Caspian grabbed whatever mechanism - be it latter or otherwise - that allowed him to get up onto the roof and got himself up on the roof. Perhaps fortunately for him, the first thing he saw was the priest firing at a terrorist - he'd been a bit slow managing to get up.

Holy shit, he thought. He dropped down, practically hugging the roof of the train, a tad too scared to move forward. This was rather more extreme than something out of Doctor Who, even though the boy cut a rather Whovian image (whether he knew it or not). Then, summoning up all his courage, he tried to stand, and found he could not. This was a moving train, you see. So he began to crawl forward, army-style, holding his gun in his right hand and holding his hat to his head with the left.

It was a very awkward manner of crawling.

[Olthar]

S.A.M.M.E.'s trip the the compound wasn't as unpleasant as some of the others likely were. She didn't feel the seats or smell the awfulness, at least not while piloting the armor. Of course, the AI had tracked the truck's movement with her built-in GPS and knew exactly where they were, but that was rather unimportant information at the present as escape didn't seem necessary.

When the ice troll attacked, S.A.M.M.E. immediately began pummeling it with her energy blasts and activated her near-invisible energy shield which coated the outside of the suit like a layer of magical skin.

[Ende]

"Rise, kid. I am here in Elfen High in a purely pedagogic capacity, I am not looking for praise or subservience from you, or any of the other students for that matter. Perhaps respect, but that would be it. And, considering that this is, well, Elfen High, I may not even get that, but I have come to terms with this fact." Alastor said to Richard.

"As for your question, yes, I know Calliel and Ivy. I met the latter shortly before the Abrahamic War, and got formally acquainted with the former after it, after you were born." He explained to the quarter-angel.

"Anyway, your parents are probably worried for you. Do not wander off by yourself like you did, and call for help if you find yourself in trouble." He said, ruffling Richard's hair and looking around. No sign of his parents. Troublesome.

"I see." said Richard, rising to his feet. He paused for a few moments, and then he turned to Alastor.

"Lord Alastor, if I can ask," he questioned, rather confused, "why can I not wander off by myself? Why would I be in trouble? This place is a school. Schools are not places of danger. I do not completely understand, really."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Alastor sighed. "Well, yes, it is indeed a school. In this place, students who have magical powers or otherwise have supernatural origins, such as yourself, are taught to better control their powers, as well as other subjects of importance... Supposedly, anyway. The crux of the matter, my child, is that, due to the circumstances surrounding the school, its very purpose, and its... Administration, many strange things happen here. This place may be a school, but it is also dangerous, as your encounter with the bear undoubtedly demonstrated. You would do well to keep that in mind." Alastor explained, hoping that it would appease Richard's curiosity for the time being.

"Now, child, come with me, we should go to the saner areas of this school. You have missed two classes already. Not very good for your first day, but there is really nothing we can do about it for now. The best I can do is get you back to safety." He said, opening up a portal that led back to the auditorium, motioning for him to go through it.

[Individuality-ness]

Rabbit like features? Huh. Well, that sounded quite interesting. Also painful. But interesting.

"What do you plan to do with my DNA exactly? What kind of rabbit features?" Alison asked. "I might as well know what I'll be agreeing to after all," she added quickly.

"You may feel a bit hyperactive and will likely have a telepathic link to any rabbit in the school." the General said. "Also, rabbit ears and a love of carrots."

Alison shrugged. She liked carrots anyways -- they tasted delicious.

"Go for it."

And with that she probably made the dumbest decision ever made in Elfen High, but this is funny and I want to see where this goes.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

.

[Hardened Pyrokinetics]

Loki shrugged. "Well, I gave what help I could." he said. Then he gave a wave and disappeared. He had to teleport out very carefully to avoid triggering the alarms of the organisation. Magic adapted to technology, just as technology adapted to magic.

An hour or so passed. Finally, a dozen armed guards came into James' room, holding far more advanced energy weapons, ones that couldn't be exploded by a level 5 pyrokinetic. They also clamped on handcuffs that very specifically blocked the use of magic in the people who currently wore them. Expensive, but worth it right now.

James was led, blindfolded and stripped of weapons, down a hallway. They opened the door and Sanchez, fully clothed, nodded at him. "Good to see you." he said as the guards removed James' blindfold, acting as though he hadn't just been fucking Megan for quite a long time on end. Speaking of Megan, she was sitting next to him, as were a few other ISSR generals.

Shung shrugged to Sanchez. "Personally, I think lifetime imprisonment. I'd say death penalty, but when he respawns in Hell he could cause us quite a bit of trouble."

Sanchez sighed. "No, he probably can still be useful in some ways..."

Megan snorted a bit.

"Aleister Crowley," she giggled, "He's exactly like Aleister Crowley, though neither of them will admit it. An impulsive jack-ass who has problems with authority, pardon my language and Shung, if you ever give me that look again, I will remind you why you should stay in Hell. Of course, Crowley is a bit more mature, and that will be the last time I ever say that.

That said, James knows quite a bit about Loki, someone we should be monitoring right now. If anyone will end the world, it will be the guy who has a penchant for causing trouble for his own amusement and has been prophecized to end it for as long as we've known he existed. And it's not like Loki will visit often while he's in jail, that would bore him.

No, I say you let him back in Elfen High. I can keep an eye on him."

James was about to talk to Sanchez, when Megan spoke.

He bit back all of the insults and remarks regarding his similarity to Aleister. On a level, yeah, he and the old man were similar. But that wasn't the pressing matter. Nor was Loki, or saving the world, or James' freedom and health.

Instead, he looked Megan Jameson in the eyes. "Like you keep on eye on your children, Megan Jameson?" He made sure to put emphasis on the last name. He knew she didn't go by Lewis' surname anymore, but with the neglect she was showing her children he hoped referring to her by that name would get her to stop being a cunt. After that there were no further words, for further words were unnecessary. If she needed an description of her children's mental and physical well-being, she no longer deserved to be their mother.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Megan snorted a bit.

"Aleister Crowley," she giggled, "He's exactly like Aleister Crowley, though neither of them will admit it. An impulsive jack-ass who has problems with authority, pardon my language and Shung, if you ever give me that look again, I will remind you why you should stay in Hell. Of course, Crowley is a bit more mature, and that will be the last time I ever say that.

That said, James knows quite a bit about Loki, someone we should be monitoring right now. If anyone will end the world, it will be the guy who has a penchant for causing trouble for his own amusement and has been prophecized to end it for as long as we've known he existed. And it's not like Loki will visit often while he's in jail, that would bore him.

No, I say you let him back in Elfen High. I can keep an eye on him."

James was about to talk to Sanchez, when Megan spoke.

He bit back all of the insults and remarks regarding his similarity to Aleister. On a level, yeah, he and the old man were similar. But that wasn't the pressing matter. Nor was Loki, or saving the world, or James' freedom and health.

Instead, he looked Megan Jameson in the eyes. "Like you keep on eye on your children, Megan Jameson?" He made sure to put emphasis on the last name. He knew she didn't go by Lewis' surname anymore, but with the neglect she was showing her children he hoped referring to her by that name would get her to stop being a cunt. After that there were no further words, for further words were unnecessary. If she needed an description of her children's mental and physical well-being, she no longer deserved to be their mother.

She shrugged.

"They're big kids," she said, "They can take care of themselves for one night.

I don't think you're the best to dish out parenting advise, Callahan."

[Hardened Pyrokinetics]

James was about to talk to Sanchez, when Megan spoke.

He bit back all of the insults and remarks regarding his similarity to Aleister. On a level, yeah, he and the old man were similar. But that wasn't the pressing matter. Nor was Loki, or saving the world, or James' freedom and health.

Instead, he looked Megan Jameson in the eyes. "Like you keep on eye on your children, Megan Jameson?" He made sure to put emphasis on the last name. He knew she didn't go by Lewis' surname anymore, but with the neglect she was showing her children he hoped referring to her by that name would get her to stop being a cunt. After that there were no further words, for further words were unnecessary. If she needed an description of her children's mental and physical well-being, she no longer deserved to be their mother.

She shrugged.

"They're big kids," she said, "They can take care of themselves for one night.

I don't think you're the best to dish out parenting advise, Callahan."

"No, I'm not." James conceded. "But I do know post-traumatic stress disorder when I see it. Rosalind is anorexic and shy, but also way too quick to trust anyone offering help. Franklin not only spends his entire time in his lab tinkering with gadgets and weapons of war, but he also hates you with a burning passion." In his loins, but he figured saying that would do more harm than good at this point.

He turned his head to Sanchez. "I hope - Nay, pray - That you two never have children and that you don't die, Sanchez, considering the way she treats the products of her first marriage."