Elfen High 2 (War OOC, Closed, Great rps are forged in fire)

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Upon doing some of my Secret Plot Stuff and looking back at Arc 2, D probably spent more quality time with Minh than Daisuke did.

There's resentment harboured over this.

[Constaniana]

Upon doing some of my Secret Plot Stuff and looking back at Arc 2, D probably spent more quality time with Minh than Daisuke did.

There's resentment harboured over this.

And I can't imagine the time where D nagged Daisuke into abandoning his date with the hot Brazilian chick to get him to help with something was an isolated incident. Yay for another reason to damage the D-Daisuke bond!

[Nationstatelandsville]

Upon doing some of my Secret Plot Stuff and looking back at Arc 2, D probably spent more quality time with Minh than Daisuke did.

There's resentment harboured over this.

And I can't imagine the time where D nagged Daisuke into abandoning his date with the hot Brazilian chick to get him to help with something was an isolated incident. Yay for another reason to damage the D-Daisuke bond!

D doesn't think about Dai that way.

He spends his time thinking about robots (shut up) and the other Crowley's daughter (still shut up).

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Upon doing some of my Secret Plot Stuff and looking back at Arc 2, D probably spent more quality time with Minh than Daisuke did.

There's resentment harboured over this.

And I can't imagine the time where D nagged Daisuke into abandoning his date with the hot Brazilian chick to get him to help with something was an isolated incident. Yay for another reason to damage the D-Daisuke bond!

D probably views Daisuke as a sort of tool to use, since Dai's pretty nice about things. I view it like the Sherlock and John bond.

"You brought me across town so I could answer a text?"

"Yes, my phone was across the room."

[Nationstatelandsville]

And I can't imagine the time where D nagged Daisuke into abandoning his date with the hot Brazilian chick to get him to help with something was an isolated incident. Yay for another reason to damage the D-Daisuke bond!

D probably views Daisuke as a sort of tool to use, since Dai's pretty nice about things. I view it like the Sherlock and John bond.

"You brought me across town so I could answer a text?"

"Yes, my phone was across the room."

Not in the same way; quite unlike Sherlock, D is extremely paranoid and does everything himself.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

There's something about OOC 7 that inspires gravedigging.

[Evraim]

There's something about OOC 7 that inspires gravedigging.

Lies. Lies and slander.

Name: The Most Fabulous Empire of Greater Djibouti

Leader: God-Emperor Cilmi Dhegdheer the Beautiful

Flag:

What is it? City? Province? State?: The Most Fabulous Empire of Greater Djibouti is a sprawling collection of fiefs, sweat shops, tribal villages, and slums under the nominal control of the self-proclaimed emperor and ruthless warlord Cilmi Dhegdheer. It consists of Djibouti, Eritrea, Ethiopia, and parts of Sudan and Kenya.

Language(s) spoken: Demonic, French, Somali, Afar

Population: 105,128,000

Description: Most historians who hail from the Empire of Greater Djibouti view the life of their nation as synonymous with and equivalent to the life of their courageous ruler. As such, the tale begins with the birth of God-Emperor Cilmi Dhegdheer the Beautiful, perhaps the most fabulous queen to ever live, and the subsequent rise of the Dhegdheer Clan.

Cilmi's father was a local pirate of mixed Somali heritage, a most wicked and handsome man by the name of Aaden [classified]. Aaden despised the Afars of his homeland because one of them had once swindled him out of a goat. He wasn't especially keen on America or hygiene either, and so he plotted to destroy them all. At the height of his power, Mr. [classified] commanded a pirate fleet of over five small boats and a malnourished and ill-disciplined crew of twenty men.

On one occasion, the dashing pirate attempted to capture a large American oil tanker, but a dolphin attack foiled his ambitions. None of his men survived, and the caves still recall their panicked cries and the cheerful yapping of the rapacious dolphins. Aaden survived somehow, probably because the dolphins viewed him as too splendid and noble to kill. He washed ashore on the coast of Sudan, bleeding and weak, but alive all the same.

Then, a female jackal nursed him back to health. Unfortunately, Aaden had drank seawater, and his mind began to deteriorate. He begin to perceive that the she-jackal was in fact a demon in canine form. He also began to experience the zoophilia that he had repressed since childhood. One night, as the she-jackal lay beside him, he confessed his love, and the rest is history. Well, the version of it allowed by the regime anyway.

Captain [classified] died of dehydration after he left the she-jackal's layer. Close to a year later, a mysterious, inexplicably gorgeous baby was found on the doorstep of a poor farmer's shack. This was the future God-Emperor. Cilmi grew up amid increasing violence and chaos, watching demons immigrate into his war-torn homeland, as violence spilled forth from Somalia. Starving and terrified, Cilmi's first tasted battle when he was eight, after witnessing the murder of his adopted family by a gang of child soldier drafting insurgents.

Cilmi fought through countless wars throughout his young life, killing thousands of men. He had an uncanny ability to kill, and a rather normal urge to do so, considering he was an African warlord. During this time, the future God-Emperor also experimented sexually, discovering and embracing himself to the fullest possible extent. His first love was a cute stud with a six pack. He was a manly South African mercenary named Richard Mann. Cilmi was devastated when he was attacked and devoured by a horde of voracious lawyers masquerading as peace activists.

When the young soldier was eighteen, the she-jackal appeared to him and explained the circumstances of his birth and his destiny, to act as the iron-handed and fabulous ruler of all Africa, which would be re-christened Greater Djibouti. Cilmi and his mom bonded by talking about fashion, their hatred of human weakness, and their love of killing kittens.

After reconnecting with his mother, Cilmi overthrew his commander, eating his face as the horrified child soldiers and adolescent officers looked on. Then, the God-Emperor, as he referred to himself, began a protracted campaign, travelling from village to village, vanquishing his enemies, slaughtering intellectuals, and carrying off children like some demented Pied Piper. Soon, he was recognized as the undisputed master of Djibouti and Eritrea.

Consolidating his holdings, the God-Emperor built a powerful military of superior demons and mediocre Somalis. He also formed his own fashion line, selling clothes and satchels to the most chic trendsetters. Then, he decided that the Afar weren't worthy of life, due to their poor awareness of the fashion world. A terrible genocide ensued, something which identified the God-Emperor as a stark, raving, maniacal lunatic. Despite this, the world still didn't give a fuck about Africa, so most of the people who complained were African.

Finishing with this, the God-Emperor launched a daring invasion of Ethiopia, and, due to his demonic powers and charisma, he prevailed, subjugating the much larger nation to his whims. Flushed with success, the God-Emperor now seeks to make all of Africa his personal mall, not to mention that every decent looking man in Africa will belong to his military or to his harem. Armies march through Sudan, Somalia, and Kenya, even as this document is being written.

None can escape the might of the God-Emperor. He has truly brought Hell to Earth, albeit be it through rainbow-colored windows. Can anyone stand against him? Will somebody arise to combat his awesome looks and hygiene? Only time will tell, and even she might not know the answer.

Demographics:

Demons: 5,000,000
Ethiopians: 70,110,000
Somalis: 30,008,000
Afars: 10,000

[Nationstatelandsville]

There's something about OOC 7 that inspires gravedigging.

You tempt me, Khan.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Name: The Most Fabulous Empire of Greater Djibouti

Leader: God-Emperor Cilmi Dhegdheer the Beautiful

Flag:

(Image)

What is it? City? Province? State?: The Most Fabulous Empire of Greater Djibouti is a sprawling collection of fiefs, sweat shops, tribal villages, and slums under the nominal control of the self-proclaimed emperor and ruthless warlord Cilmi Dhegdheer. It consists of Djibouti, Eritrea, Ethiopia, and parts of Sudan and Kenya.

Language(s) spoken: Demonic, French, Somali, Afar

Population: 105,128,000

Description: Most historians who hail from the Empire of Greater Djibouti view the life of their nation as synonymous with and equivalent to the life of their courageous ruler. As such, the tale begins with the birth of God-Emperor Cilmi Dhegdheer the Beautiful, perhaps the most fabulous queen to ever live, and the subsequent rise of the Dhegdheer Clan.

Cilmi's father was a local pirate of mixed Somali heritage, a most wicked and handsome man by the name of Aaden [classified]. Aaden despised the Afars of his homeland because one of them had once swindled him out of a goat. He wasn't especially keen on America or hygiene either, and so he plotted to destroy them all. At the height of his power, Mr. [classified] commanded a pirate fleet of over five small boats and a malnourished and ill-disciplined crew of twenty men.

On one occasion, the dashing pirate attempted to capture a large American oil tanker, but a dolphin attack foiled his ambitions. None of his men survived, and the caves still recall their panicked cries and the cheerful yapping of the rapacious dolphins. Aaden survived somehow, probably because the dolphins viewed him as too splendid and noble to kill. He washed ashore on the coast of Sudan, bleeding and weak, but alive all the same.

Then, a female jackal nursed him back to health. Unfortunately, Aaden had drank seawater, and his mind began to deteriorate. He begin to perceive that the she-jackal was in fact a demon in canine form. He also began to experience the zoophilia that he had repressed since childhood. One night, as the she-jackal lay beside him, he confessed his love, and the rest is history. Well, the version of it allowed by the regime anyway.

Captain [classified] died of dehydration after he left the she-jackal's layer. Close to a year later, a mysterious, inexplicably gorgeous baby was found on the doorstep of a poor farmer's shack. This was the future God-Emperor. Cilmi grew up amid increasing violence and chaos, watching demons immigrate into his war-torn homeland, as violence spilled forth from Somalia. Starving and terrified, Cilmi's first tasted battle when he was eight, after witnessing the murder of his adopted family by a gang of child soldier drafting insurgents.

Cilmi fought through countless wars throughout his young life, killing thousands of men. He had an uncanny ability to kill, and a rather normal urge to do so, considering he was an African warlord. During this time, the future God-Emperor also experimented sexually, discovering and embracing himself to the fullest possible extent. His first love was a cute stud with a six pack. He was a manly South African mercenary named Richard Mann. Cilmi was devastated when he was attacked and devoured by a horde of voracious lawyers masquerading as peace activists.

When the young soldier was eighteen, the she-jackal appeared to him and explained the circumstances of his birth and his destiny, to act as the iron-handed and fabulous ruler of all Africa, which would be re-christened Greater Djibouti. Cilmi and his mom bonded by talking about fashion, their hatred of human weakness, and their love of killing kittens.

After reconnecting with his mother, Cilmi overthrew his commander, eating his face as the horrified child soldiers and adolescent officers looked on. Then, the God-Emperor, as he referred to himself, began a protracted campaign, travelling from village to village, vanquishing his enemies, slaughtering intellectuals, and carrying off children like some demented Pied Piper. Soon, he was recognized as the undisputed master of Djibouti and Eritrea.

Consolidating his holdings, the God-Emperor built a powerful military of superior demons and mediocre Somalis. He also formed his own fashion line, selling clothes and satchels to the most chic trendsetters. Then, he decided that the Afar weren't worthy of life, due to their poor awareness of the fashion world. A terrible genocide ensued, something which identified the God-Emperor as a stark, raving, maniacal lunatic. Despite this, the world still didn't give a fuck about Africa, so most of the people who complained were African.

Finishing with this, the God-Emperor launched a daring invasion of Ethiopia, and, due to his demonic powers and charisma, he prevailed, subjugating the much larger nation to his whims. Flushed with success, the God-Emperor now seeks to make all of Africa his personal mall, not to mention that every decent looking man in Africa will belong to his military or to his harem. Armies march through Sudan, Somalia, and Kenya, even as this document is being written.

None can escape the might of the God-Emperor. He has truly brought Hell to Earth, albeit be it through rainbow-colored windows. Can anyone stand against him? Will somebody arise to combat his awesome looks and hygiene? Only time will tell, and even she might not know the answer.

Demographics:

Demons: 5,000,000
Ethiopians: 70,110,000
Somalis: 30,008,000
Afars: 10,000

Amusing, but probably not canon.

[Evraim]

Amusing, but probably not canon.

I blame the Jews.

I also blame the cabby drivers of New York.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

So I'm debating making a thread for what I call "multiplayer oneshots". (Shitty title).

Basically, it's in a style of a oneshot in some ways. It's meant to be a short side scene or adventure that can explore characters, but written by more than just one person. I'm doing a poor job of explaining.

Basically, say Nat and I do a oneshot about Lewis and Minh having an adventure. This has no proper place in the IC (since they're dead), so we can instead do it in the side thread, whereupon it's like a normal rp but located in the main IC.

Again, piss poor job of explaining, sorry. But I think it could be useful.

[The Inritus Extraho]

So I'm debating making a thread for what I call "multiplayer oneshots". (Shitty title).

Basically, it's in a style of a oneshot in some ways. It's meant to be a short side scene or adventure that can explore characters, but written by more than just one person. I'm doing a poor job of explaining.

Basically, say Nat and I do a oneshot about Lewis and Minh having an adventure. This has no proper place in the IC (since they're dead), so we can instead do it in the side thread, whereupon it's like a normal rp but located in the main IC.

Again, piss poor job of explaining, sorry. But I think it could be useful.

I like the idea, and think that's explained perfectly; it's a not-simultaneous-timeline thread (is how I'd think of it)

[Nightkill the Emperor]

So I'm debating making a thread for what I call "multiplayer oneshots". (Shitty title).

Basically, it's in a style of a oneshot in some ways. It's meant to be a short side scene or adventure that can explore characters, but written by more than just one person. I'm doing a poor job of explaining.

Basically, say Nat and I do a oneshot about Lewis and Minh having an adventure. This has no proper place in the IC (since they're dead), so we can instead do it in the side thread, whereupon it's like a normal rp but located in the main IC.

Again, piss poor job of explaining, sorry. But I think it could be useful.

I like the idea, and think that's explained perfectly; it's a not-simultaneous-timeline thread (is how I'd think of it)

Pretty much.

[Constaniana]

So I'm debating making a thread for what I call "multiplayer oneshots". (Shitty title).

Basically, it's in a style of a oneshot in some ways. It's meant to be a short side scene or adventure that can explore characters, but written by more than just one person. I'm doing a poor job of explaining.

Basically, say Nat and I do a oneshot about Lewis and Minh having an adventure. This has no proper place in the IC (since they're dead), so we can instead do it in the side thread, whereupon it's like a normal rp but located in the main IC.

Again, piss poor job of explaining, sorry. But I think it could be useful.

Sounds like a good idea to me.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

So I'm debating making a thread for what I call "multiplayer oneshots". (Shitty title).

Basically, it's in a style of a oneshot in some ways. It's meant to be a short side scene or adventure that can explore characters, but written by more than just one person. I'm doing a poor job of explaining.

Basically, say Nat and I do a oneshot about Lewis and Minh having an adventure. This has no proper place in the IC (since they're dead), so we can instead do it in the side thread, whereupon it's like a normal rp but located in the main IC.

Again, piss poor job of explaining, sorry. But I think it could be useful.

Sounds like a good idea to me.

Alright. I'll get started on it soon then.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

So I'm debating making a thread for what I call "multiplayer oneshots". (Shitty title).

Basically, it's in a style of a oneshot in some ways. It's meant to be a short side scene or adventure that can explore characters, but written by more than just one person. I'm doing a poor job of explaining.

Basically, say Nat and I do a oneshot about Lewis and Minh having an adventure. This has no proper place in the IC (since they're dead), so we can instead do it in the side thread, whereupon it's like a normal rp but located in the main IC.

Again, piss poor job of explaining, sorry. But I think it could be useful.

Sounds cool.

And to be frank, multiplayer oneshots pretty much explains it. .

[Constaniana]

Florence, Italy
2024

William sat at a table alone, sipping his chianti with a half-eaten pastry on his plate. He had heard the locals would dip their biscuits into this wine, but he had tried something similar thing when he was a lad with Robinsons and a chocolate digestive and it didn't taste too good, so the knight refrained from doing that sort of thing now. It was a nice little cafe, and reminded him of the one Alfred enjoyed going to in "The Dark Knight Rises". Speaking of dark things, William was still a bit surprised how different his traveling was since Dunefiend had left his company to return to America. There hadn't been torch and pitchfork-wielding mobs trying to evict him and his associate from town, no car chases and explosions, no pub brawls. He felt like he was actually on a normal holiday instead of smuggling drugs through a war zone.

Still, it did get lonely sometimes. William and Daniel had found they didn't share too many similar tastes outside of fighting and racist jokes. So while things like visiting museums or watching proper football on the telly back in the hotel room were now mercifully free of requests to punch that stupid dude across the hallway looking all hipster-like and then go get some ice cream or rants about how American football was a much better sport, and then demanding a pistol duel to prove his point, sometimes it was too quiet for William. He had spent a lot of time being lonely and quiet during his early years at Elfen High and hadn't enjoyed it much at all.

Giving a quick glance around the restaurant affirmed that he was the only unaccompanied person there. All the other tables had businesspeople talking about clients and stocks or whatever rubbish they worked with, old retired couples, honeymooning newly-weds, university students, that sort of thing. William's gaze lingered on a presumably married youngish couple, particularly the Italian redhead's ample chest, before the glare and menacing wave of a flat cap from her husband prompted the knight to go back to looking at his drink. William took a few more bites of his pastry to finish it off, wiping his fingers and mouth with his napkin before paying for his breakfast and leaving the restaurant.

Sir Nilark strolled along the Arno, looking in the river and the buildings on the other side. Although William had been wandering the earth for the past four years since his graduation from Elfen High he still held a fascinated interest in foreign places, especially ones as beautiful as Florence. He supposed part of it came from his childhood. The Nilarks had taken holidays together, but only short trips as far as Whitby or a caravan up near Loch Lomond. Whitby was still in North Yorkshire, and the largest body of freshwater in Great Britain didn't seem too exotic when it seemed like all the other kids were going on holidays in Spain or cruises to the Canary Islands or skiing in Germany. The two places he had spent the most time in were Yorkshire and Elfen High, so William had quite a curiosity about seeing the rest of the world. And then there was the appreciative aspect of it. The knight had helped defend this world from the ravaging hordes of Hell, why not enjoy the saved parts of Earth?

But nagging doubts and self-loathing slithered into his thoughts. He hadn't really made much of a difference in the war. For all intents and purposes he was only slightly above the common infantry in terms of being useful, and that was simply because he had an ancient sword and was one of the students of Elfen High randomly chosen to participate on the grand adventures. He hadn't killed embodiments of cardinal sins or broke sieges. He hadn't slain Azazel or anything heroic on his own. William had simply been carrying out orders, mechanically assisting the smarter, stronger people in killing enemies or destroying objectives. But it wasn't like Sir Nilark could even really get the same sort of pride a proper soldier might feel. Pride in his unit? That was reserved for men whose regiments had fought against Napoleon or the Axis long ago and were continuing to proudly serve their nation, not a student at a madhouse masquerading as a school. He wasn't on the path to some lofty position as an officer or learning skills he could use later on in civilian life; the rewards you got out of loyally serving Elfen High were a vast array of knowledge about various drugs and sex positions, a more jaded outlook on life, and a job that pointlessly became the keystone of your life if you stayed as a teacher too long.

Sir Nilark was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a few fellow Britons greeting to him. Whatever he might have thought of his contributions in the Abrahamic War the British public seemed to like him a good deal. He supposed Great Britain wanted her own war hero, someone specific she could proudly point to and proclaim that they were a child of the miserable, damp islands who had helped protect Earth. The Americans had Clint Eastwood and Rick Sanchez, and when your only other surviving war heroes were Aleister Crowley and someone who had spent most of their life in America and shared the same surname as the hedonistic headmaster the thick Yorkshireman paladin wielding Excalibur didn't sound so bad. William briefly waved to them and returned to looking at the river and buildings around him as they began trying to take pictures of him to show their friends how they met Sir Nilark in Florence.

"Hey, Liz, look! Isn't that your brother?" asked a feminine voice with a distinctly Yorkshire accent.

Liz? Brother? No it couldn't be-

"Oh bloody hell, she's looking at a shop window back there. Chut ka maindak! Now she's gone in there! Oh, it'll take ages to get her out. Sophie, go retrieve her!" said a different girl as William turned to look at the people talking. He hadn't seen the Indian girl before, but he recognised the other woman.

"Do it yourself, Safiya! I've dragged Elizabeth out of the last four shops today! It's your bloody turn!" the Yorkshirewoman replied authoritatively with a stern glare, to which the Indian girl grumbled and swore in various languages for a few moments before trudging off the way she had come, making a beeline for one of the shops along the river.

"Sophie Zhang?" William asked the remaining lass uncertainly as he took some steps towards her. Her countenance brightened noticeably at the question, and she gave a cheerful nod.

"The one and only! Well, the only one I know, at any rate," she responded. William just stood there with a surprised look on his face, not knowing what to say. The last time he had seen Sophie she had been one of his little sister Elizabeth's friends; the kinda-cute shy Chinese one with the glasses that he had a bit of a crush on. Some time in the last six years since William had seen her puberty had come along and made her into this bombshell. "Wow, it's really been ages since we've seen each other! So what have you been up to these past years, Sir war hero?"

"Not much, really. Just finishing up school and traveling a bit...nothing really significant," said William, his thoughts returning to his lack of significance and direction in life now.

"You could always add me to that list of significant things done, handsome," Sophie said, winking at Sir Nilark. It took a few moments for it register with William that Sophie was now hitting on him. For some reason he felt a bit awkward about the prospect of sex with his youngest sister's best friend, as hot as she now was. "I know you've thought I was cute for years, especially after you confessed it when Liz had us over for her 8th birthday party."

"I was ten, and you fiends were threatening to set my old teddy bear on fire!" William protested, his cheeks reddening.

"Oh, it was only Clara who would do something like that, and her parents had managed to confiscate her dozen lighters two days before the party, so Old Terrence wasn't in any real danger. Still, I think it's cute how you kept that old thing," Sophie giggled.

"What is Clara up to these days, anyway?" William asked. Despite being away for years he was still interested in the lives of the people he knew back home.

"She's some sort of policewoman now or something along those lines. I can't remember what it is she specifically does..." the Anglo-Chinese woman responded, scratching her head.

---

The kingpin of the Glaswegian heroin dealers sat in his luxurious conference room, meeting with other crime bosses to talk of drug supplies and who they should kill next. There was a knock at the door, and the kingpin motioned for one of his guards to check to see who it was. Without waiting for the bald guard to do so the door was kicked in, revealing an angry 20-something ginger wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt, jeans and orange trainers, leaning a cricket bat on ber shoulder.

"You're not supposed to be in here!" He cried with a gruff Hungarian accent, before the ginger granted him the gift of a concussion via her cricket bat. The mystery woman dispatched the rest of the guards the same way, splintering her cricket bat in the process. One of the lesser drug lords pulled out a gun to try shooting the attacker, but the ginger threw a flask-sized Molotov cocktail exploding the gun from the criminal's hand.

"What do ye' want, ye wee feckin' nightmare hag?!?" The kingpin roared as the ginger walked up to him, a cranky expression on her face that just screamed "I'M ON MY PERIOD."

"I'm Clara Rookbreach, and I'm here to PUNCH THE CRIME OUT OF YOUR STUPID FACE!" The ginger responded in a gruff Yorkshire accent, before punching the drug lord and his associates in their collective faces so hard they lost all desire to break the laws of the United Kingdom, as well as most of their teeth.

---

"SOPHIE! GET IN HERE AND HELP ME DRAG THIS TWIT OUT OF THE SHOP!" Safiya hollered from down the street, her current efforts to get Elizabeth Nilark to disengage from a look around another store proving futile so far. Sophie sighed, reluctant to have her chat with William interrupted.

"Sorry Eddie, but SAFIYA CAN'T SEEM TO DO ONE EASY BLOODY TASK ON HER OWN, so I have to go help her get Liz out," she explained, turning and shouting more at the Indian than the knight. "Be back in a sec, alright?" Sophie then began running towards the shop Elizabeth had found interesting, leaving William alone to think once more. He still didn't have the courage to face his family. How would he explain why he stayed away? How would he properly explain his aimless vagrancy? How long had Sophie's rear end looked that great?

Without fully understanding why Sir Nilark turned from looking at Sophie as she went into the shop and began running in the opposite direction of his childhood crush and his little sister. Life was sadder but easier on his own. He was unprepared for the upwelling of emotion that a conversation lasting no more than a few minutes had stirred up inside him. A old, simple attraction not influenced by drugs or the magic of a dragon corpse making you aroused, the ties to sisters, a brother, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents that were genuine and decent. William had forgotten what those things felt like, and the young man was enjoying his current degree of freedom too much to take his old life back just yet. He'd keep running for now. One day he hoped he could stop, but today wasn't that day.

Sophie eagerly bounded out of the store, dragging Elizabeth Nilark by the hand. "He's here, Liz, honestly! I hadn't seen Eddie in years and there he is, walking alongside the Arno! He's a lot more cute with the red hair than the same brown mess Robert has," the bubbly girl said.

"Sophie! What are you saying? You're not going to sleep with Eddie, are you? That's just...eugh, I don't want to think about it," Elizabeth responded, shaking her head.

"I don't see him anymore," Safiya said bluntly, evidently not too interested in the whole matter.

"He was just standing here, really..." Sophie said, her hands falling flat by her side. Elizabeth just sighed. She had decided to study abroad partly from a curiosity for foreign cultures and the desire to try something new, but she had been secretly hoping her lost brother would come wandering though wherever she was studying. She had the perfect luck of them both being in Florence, on the same street no less! But the opportunity had slipped away without her even knowing it, all because of a single boutique with an interesting display window. The girl glanced at her reflection in the window, wishing she could see her older brother there as well.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Not sure what to put as the title fir this.

Florence, Italy
2024

William sat at a table alone, sipping his chianti with a half-eaten pastry on his plate. He had heard the locals would dip their biscuits into this wine, but he had tried something similar thing when he was a lad with Robinsons and a chocolate digestive and it didn't taste too good, so the knight refrained from doing that sort of thing now. It was a nice little cafe, and reminded him of the one Alfred enjoyed going to in "The Dark Knight Rises". Speaking of dark things, William was still a bit surprised how different his travelling was since Dunefiend had left his company to return to America. There hadn't been torch and pitchfork-wielding mobs trying to evict him and his associate from town, no car chases and explosions, no pub brawls. He felt like he was actually on a normal holiday instead of smuggling drugs through a war zone.

Still, it did get lonely sometimes. William and Daniel had found they didn't share too many similar tastes outside of fighting and racist jokes. So while things like visiting museums or watching proper football on the telly back in the hotel room were now mercifully free of requests to punch that stupid dude across the hallway looking all hipster-like and then go get some ice cream or rants about how American football was a much better sport, and then demanding a pistol duel to prove his point, sometimes it was too quiet for William. He had spent a lot of time being lonely and quiet during his early years at Elfen High and hadn't enjoyed it much at all.

Giving a quick glance around the restaurant affirmed that he was the only unaccompanied person there. All the other tables had businesspeople talking about clients and stocks or whatever rubbish they worked with, old retired couples, honeymooning newly-weds, university students, that sort of thing. William's gaze lingered on a presumably married youngish couple, particularly the Italian redhead's ample chest, before the glare and menacing wave of a flat cap from her husband prompted the knight to go back to looking at his drink. William took a few more bites of his pastry to finish it off, wiping his fingers and mouth with his napkin before paying for his breakfast and leaving the restaurant.

Sir Nilark strolled along the Arno, looking in the river and the buildings on the other side. Although William had been wandering the earth for the past four years since his graduation from Elfen High he still held a fascinated interest in foreign places, especially ones as beautiful as Florence. He supposed part of it came from his childhood. The Nilarks had taken holidays together, but only short trips as far as Whitby or a caravan up near Loch Lomond. Whitby was still in North Yorkshire, and the largest body of freshwater in Great Britain didn't seem too exotic when it seemed like all the other kids were going on holidays in Spain or cruises to the Canary Islands or skiing in Germany. The two places he had spent the most time in were Yorkshire and Elfen High, so William had quite a curiosity about seeing the rest of the world. And then there was the appreciative aspect of it. The knight had helped defend this world from the ravaging hordes of Hell, why not enjoy the saved parts of Earth?

But nagging doubts and self-loathing slithered into his thoughts. He hadn't really made much of a difference in the war. For all intents and purposes he was only slightly above the common infantry in terms of being useful, and that was simply because he had an ancient sword and was one of the students of Elfen High randomly chosen to participate on the grand adventures. He hadn't killed embodiments of cardinal sins or broke sieges. He hadn't slain Azazel or anything heroic on his own. William had simply been carrying out orders, mechanically assisting the smarter, stronger people in killing enemies or destroying objectives. But it wasn't like Sir Nilark could even really get the same sort of pride a proper soldier might feel. Pride in his unit? That was reserved for men whose regiments had fought against Napoleon or the Axis long ago and were continuing to proudly serve their nation, not a student at a madhouse masquerading as a school. He wasn't on the path to some lofty position as an officer or learning skills he could use later on in civilian life; the rewards you got out of loyally serving Elfen High were a vast array of knowledge about various drugs and sex positions, a more jaded outlook on life, and a job that pointlessly became the keystone of your life if you stayed as a teacher too long.

Sir Nilark was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a few fellow Britons greeting to him. Whatever he might have thought of his contributions in the Abrahamic War the British public seemed to like him a good deal. He supposed Great Britain wanted her own war hero, someone specific she could proudly point to and proclaim that they were a child of the miserable, damp islands who had helped protect Earth. The Americans had Clint Eastwood and Rick Sanchez, and when your only other surviving war heroes were Aleister Crowley and someone who had spent most of their life in America and shared the same surname as the hedonistic headmaster the thick Yorkshireman paladin wielding Excalibur didn't sound so bad. William briefly waved to them and returned to looking at the river and buildings around him as they began trying to take pictures of him to show their friends how they met Sir Nilark in Florence.

"Hey, Liz, look! Isn't that your brother?" asked a feminine voice with a distinctly Yorkshire accent.

Liz? Brother? No it couldn't be-

"Oh bloody hell, she's looking at a shop window back there. Chut ka maindak! Now she's gone in there! Oh, it'll take ages to get her out. Sophie, go retrieve her!" said a different girl as William turned to look at the people talking. He hadn't seen the Indian girl before, but he recognised the other woman.

"Do it yourself, Safiya! I've dragged Elizabeth out of the last four shops today! It's your bloody turn!" the Yorkshirewoman replied authoritatively with a stern glare, to which the Indian girl grumbled and swore in various languages for a few moments before trudging off the way she had come, making a beeline for one of the shops along the river.

"Sophie Zhang?" William asked the remaining lass uncertainly as he took some steps towards her. Her countenance brightened noticeably at the question, and she gave a cheerful nod.

"The one and only! Well, the only one I know, at any rate," she responded. William just stood there with a surprised look on his face, not knowing what to say. The last time he had seen Sophie she had been one of his little sister Elizabeth's friends; the kinda-cute shy Chinese one with the glasses that he had a bit of a crush on. Some time in the last six years since William had seen her puberty had come along and made her into this bombshell. "Wow, it's really been ages since we've seen each other! So what have you been up to these past years, Sir war hero?"

"Not much, really. Just finishing up school and travelling a bit...nothing really significant," said William, his thoughts returning to his lack of significance and direction in life now.

"You could always add me to that list of significant things done, handsome," Sophie said, winking at Sir Nilark. It took a few moments for it register with William that Sophie was now hitting on him. For some reason he felt a bit awkward about the prospect of sex with his youngest sister's best friend, as hot as she now was. "I know you've thought I was cute for years, especially after you confessed it when Liz had us over for her 8th birthday party."

"I was ten, and you fiends were threatening to set my old teddy bear on fire!" William protested, his cheeks reddening.

"Oh, it was only Clara who would do something like that, and her parents had managed to confiscate her dozen lighters two days before the parry, so Old Terrence wasn't in any real danger. Though I think it's adorable how you still kept that thing," Sophie giggled.

"What is Clara up to these days, anyway?" William asked. Despite being away for years he was still interested in the lives of the people he knew back home.

"She's some sort of policewoman now or something along those lines. I can't remember what it is she specifically does..." the Anglo-Chinese woman responded, scratching her head.

---

The kingpin of the Glaswegian heroin dealers sat in his luxurious conference room, meeting with other crime bosses to talk of drug supplies and who they should kill next. There was a knock at the door, and the kingpin motioned for one of his guards to check to see who it was. Without waiting for the bald guard to do so the door was kicked in, revealing an angry 20-something ginger wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt, jeans and orange trainers, leaning a cricket bat on ber shoulder.

"You're not supposed to be in here!" He cried with a gruff Hungarian accent, before the ginger granted him the gift of a concussion via her cricket bat. The mystery woman dispatched the rest of the guards the same way, splintering her cricket bat in the process. One of the lesser drug lords pulled out a gun to try shooting the attacker, but the ginger threw a flask-sized Molotov cocktail exploding the gun from the criminal's hand.

"What do ye' want, ye wee feckin' nightmare hag?!?" The kingpin roared as the ginger walked up to him, a cranky expression on her face that just screamed "I'M ON MY PERIOD."

"I'm Clara Rookbreach, and I'm here to PUNCH THE CRIME OUT OF YOUR STUPID FACE!" The ginger responded in a gruff Yorkshire accent, before punching the drug lord and his associates in their collective faces so hard they lost all desire to break the laws of the United Kingdom, as well as most of their teeth.

---

"SOPHIE! GET IN HERE AND HELP ME DRAG THIS TWIT OUT OF THE SHOP!" Safiya hollered from down the street, her current efforts to get Elizabeth Nilark to disengage from a look around another store proving futile so far. Sophie sighed, reluctant to have her chat with William interrupted.

"Sorry Eddie, but SAFIYA CAN'T SEEM TO DO ONE EASY BLOODY TASK ON HER OWN, so I have to go help her get Liz out," she explained, turning and shouting more at the Indian than the knight. "Be back in a sec, alright?" Sophie then began running towards the shop Elizabeth had found interesting, leaving William alone to think once more. He still didn't have the courage to face his family. How would he explain why he stayed away? How would he properly explain his aimless vagrancy? How long had Sophie's rear end looked that great?

Without fully understanding why Sir Nilark turned from looking at Sophie as she went into the shop and began running in the opposite direction of his childhood crush and his little sister. Life was sadder but easier on his own. He was unprepared for the upwelling of emotion that a conversation lasting no more than a few minutes had stirred up inside him. A old, simple attraction not influenced by drugs or the magic of a dragon corpse making you aroused, the ties to sisters, a brother, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents that were genuine and decent. William had forgotten what those things felt like, and the young man was enjoying his current degree of freedom to much to take his old life back just yet. He'd keep running for now. One day he hoped he could stop, but today wasn't the day.

Sophie eagerly bounded out of the store, dragging Elizabeth Nilark by the hand. "He's here, Liz, honestly! I hadn't seen Eddie in years and there he is, walking alongside the Arno! He's a lot more cute with the red hair than the same brown mess Cecil has," the bubbly girl said.

"Sophie! What are you saying? You're not going to sleep with Eddie, are you? That's just...eugh, I don't want to think about it," Elizabeth responded, shaking her head.

"I don't see him anymore," Safiya said bluntly, evidently not too interested in the whole matter.

"He was just standing here, really..." Sophie said, her hands falling flat by her side. Elizabeth just sighed. She had decided to study abroad partly from a curiosity for foreign cultures and the desire to try something new, but she had been secretly hoping her lost brother would come wandering though wherever she was studying. She had the perfect luck of them both being in Florence, on the same street no less! But the opportunity had slipped away without her even knowing it, all because of a single boutique with an interesting display window. The girl glanced at her reflection in the window, wishing she could see her older brother there as well.

I like it. Give me a summary and try to figure out a title and it'll be in the list.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

I'll have Grace and Lily's plane land after some back and forth.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Hallelujah, Indi's online just as I was about to skip her. Good timing.

[Individuality-ness]

http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=278317

The thread that led to me making my own.

Read some of their comments and then read my OP.

I guess that's old, good-fashioned NSG racism/bigotry, which of course liberals too are guilty of.

Be glad that they know shit about Hinduism, otherwise they would blame it for everything wrong with your homeland.

I was tempted to post this in the thread. Then I realized that it's not worth it.

But here's the text, since I only realized it after I wrote it.

I'm so proud of NSG. You claim to be against racism and you are outraged (as you should be) when people use racial slurs or whatnot. But when we get another story about how someone else got raped in India, you all go "well duh, India's a shithole, what did you expect????". Then you go on on how India is naturally barbaric and how the US is somehow better.

But when statistics are pointed out that some areas of the US have higher incidences of rape, you claim that it's totally false, while getting back on your high horse because at least you're better than those stupid backwards savages. You say how India is inherently worse and how Night should get some perspective because LOLOL INDIA IS TOTES BARBARIC, using it as an excuse to not have to look into your own house. And why would you? In your world, everyone is the same. This is why you can talk about countries you've never visited and cultures that you don't know about. It's why you are willing to claim that you know about a country's situation compared to the person who lives there. Of course, the West knows best. It's not like there's anything racist about that, right?

In your viewpoint, no one should ever talk shit about the US, even if it deserves it.

Social issues are less important in Western Countries, but worthy of economic sanctions in third world ones! And of course, It's not like those third world countries will know what to do unless white people lead the way!

I like you ASB, but really, calling people out on their racist bullshit does not mean that a person's "full of hatred against the US". Sometimes it just means that guess what? Some of you people are full of it. But I'm glad to see that you realized that some of the threads here are stupid — namely the threads where the vast majority of NSG gets on their high horse and fundamentally misunderstands stories like "rape victim in India" to circlejerk on how inferior those Indians are and how superior you are in your Western home.

Farn, you're a nice person. But you know, the reason the thread exists is so that more people can realize how hypocritical NSG is with their "I'm totally against racism, but really Indians are inherently savage and too stupid to know any better".

"Isolated incident"? India's the one with the endemic of rape? Not when there's a sexual assault happening in the US every two minutes. I'd say that's an epidemic, but what do I know? I have statistics, while you only have the perception that the media gives you so that you can feel better about yourselves while your own country turns into a shithole. After all, India's full of savages, and the US is full of angels by your own racist comparison.

NSG, I'm so proud of you. You're just as horrible as the bigots you denounce. The only difference? You're subtle.

Fucking hell, you are hypocritical. But I guess it makes you feel better about yourselves.

Have a wonderful life. Just don't think. You're much happier that way.

[Individuality-ness]

Hallelujah, Indi's online just as I was about to skip her. Good timing.

Haha where's my link?

[Nightkill the Emperor]

I guess that's old, good-fashioned NSG racism/bigotry, which of course liberals too are guilty of.

Be glad that they know shit about Hinduism, otherwise they would blame it for everything wrong with your homeland.

I was tempted to post this in the thread. Then I realized that it's not worth it.

But here's the text, since I only realized it after I wrote it.

I'm so proud of NSG. You claim to be against racism and you are outraged (as you should be) when people use racial slurs or whatnot. But when we get another story about how someone else got raped in India, you all go "well duh, India's a shithole, what did you expect????". Then you go on on how India is naturally barbaric and how the US is somehow better.

But when statistics are pointed out that some areas of the US have higher incidences of rape, you claim that it's totally false, while getting back on your high horse because at least you're better than those stupid backwards savages. You say how India is inherently worse and how Night should get some perspective because LOLOL INDIA IS TOTES BARBARIC, using it as an excuse to not have to look into your own house. And why would you? In your world, everyone is the same. This is why you can talk about countries you've never visited and cultures that you don't know about. It's why you are willing to claim that you know about a country's situation compared to the person who lives there. Of course, the West knows best. It's not like there's anything racist about that, right?

In your viewpoint, no one should ever talk shit about the US, even if it deserves it.

Social issues are less important in Western Countries, but worthy of economic sanctions in third world ones! And of course, It's not like those third world countries will know what to do unless white people lead the way!

I like you ASB, but really, calling people out on their racist bullshit does not mean that a person's "full of hatred against the US". Sometimes it just means that guess what? Some of you people are full of it. But I'm glad to see that you realized that some of the threads here are stupid — namely the threads where the vast majority of NSG gets on their high horse and fundamentally misunderstands stories like "rape victim in India" to circlejerk on how inferior those Indians are and how superior you are in your Western home.

Farn, you're a nice person. But you know, the reason the thread exists is so that more people can realize how hypocritical NSG is with their "I'm totally against racism, but really Indians are inherently savage and too stupid to know any better".

"Isolated incident"? India's the one with the endemic of rape? Not when there's a sexual assault happening in the US every two minutes. I'd say that's an epidemic, but what do I know? I have statistics, while you only have the perception that the media gives you so that you can feel better about yourselves while your own country turns into a shithole. After all, India's full of savages, and the US is full of angels by your own racist comparison.

NSG, I'm so proud of you. You're just as horrible as the bigots you denounce. The only difference? You're subtle.

Fucking hell, you are hypocritical. But I guess it makes you feel better about yourselves.

Have a wonderful life. Just don't think. You're much happier that way.

I don't have a moral ground to stop you just now because I myself had posted the thread to begin with, but it'd be a bad idea to post it, yeah.

Hallelujah, Indi's online just as I was about to skip her. Good timing.

Haha where's my link?

Look up "Divia" in the IC search bar. You should find it pretty quick.

[Agritum]

I guess that's old, good-fashioned NSG racism/bigotry, which of course liberals too are guilty of.

Be glad that they know shit about Hinduism, otherwise they would blame it for everything wrong with your homeland.

I was tempted to post this in the thread. Then I realized that it's not worth it.

But here's the text, since I only realized it after I wrote it.

I'm so proud of NSG. You claim to be against racism and you are outraged (as you should be) when people use racial slurs or whatnot. But when we get another story about how someone else got raped in India, you all go "well duh, India's a shithole, what did you expect????". Then you go on on how India is naturally barbaric and how the US is somehow better.

But when statistics are pointed out that some areas of the US have higher incidences of rape, you claim that it's totally false, while getting back on your high horse because at least you're better than those stupid backwards savages. You say how India is inherently worse and how Night should get some perspective because LOLOL INDIA IS TOTES BARBARIC, using it as an excuse to not have to look into your own house. And why would you? In your world, everyone is the same. This is why you can talk about countries you've never visited and cultures that you don't know about. It's why you are willing to claim that you know about a country's situation compared to the person who lives there. Of course, the West knows best. It's not like there's anything racist about that, right?

In your viewpoint, no one should ever talk shit about the US, even if it deserves it.

Social issues are less important in Western Countries, but worthy of economic sanctions in third world ones! And of course, It's not like those third world countries will know what to do unless white people lead the way!

I like you ASB, but really, calling people out on their racist bullshit does not mean that a person's "full of hatred against the US". Sometimes it just means that guess what? Some of you people are full of it. But I'm glad to see that you realized that some of the threads here are stupid — namely the threads where the vast majority of NSG gets on their high horse and fundamentally misunderstands stories like "rape victim in India" to circlejerk on how inferior those Indians are and how superior you are in your Western home.

Farn, you're a nice person. But you know, the reason the thread exists is so that more people can realize how hypocritical NSG is with their "I'm totally against racism, but really Indians are inherently savage and too stupid to know any better".

"Isolated incident"? India's the one with the endemic of rape? Not when there's a sexual assault happening in the US every two minutes. I'd say that's an epidemic, but what do I know? I have statistics, while you only have the perception that the media gives you so that you can feel better about yourselves while your own country turns into a shithole. After all, India's full of savages, and the US is full of angels by your own racist comparison.

NSG, I'm so proud of you. You're just as horrible as the bigots you denounce. The only difference? You're subtle.

Fucking hell, you are hypocritical. But I guess it makes you feel better about yourselves.

Have a wonderful life. Just don't think. You're much happier that way.

To be fair, ASB was swift enough in understanding that the thread was just satire of the original, idiotic one (which he had actually not participated in.)

[Individuality-ness]

Agri, see second part of that paragraph.

Also, it's okay Night. I think I might get a hang of it.