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

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Agri, see second part of that paragraph.

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

A hang of what?

Plus, it's time to move on Night. Get us out of here.

*burns plans, reduces this subplot to around five or so more posts*

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Indi, how active will you be in the following days?

[Individuality-ness]

Agri, see second part of that paragraph.

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

A hang of what?

Plus, it's time to move on Night. Get us out of here.

*burns plans, reduces this subplot to around five or so more posts*

You would!

Also, I think I can avoid NSG now. Hopefully. We'll see how long this lasts.

Indi, how active will you be in the following days?

Will be more available on Thursday. I have tons of classes tomorrow.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

A hang of what?


*burns plans, reduces this subplot to around five or so more posts*

You would!

Also, I think I can avoid NSG now. Hopefully. We'll see how long this lasts.

Indi, how active will you be in the following days?

Will be more available on Thursday. I have tons of classes tomorrow.

Alrighty, pop in when you have time.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Really though, Caribbean Spanish Waiter has stories to tell. He's seen some shit.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Really though, Caribbean Spanish Waiter has stories to tell. He's seen some shit.

You could write about them. .

[Nightkill the Emperor]

[Esternial]

(Image)

Still?

[Zarkenis Ultima]

(Image)

[Nightkill the Emperor]

(Image)

Still?

Hmm?

[Zarkenis Ultima]

TIE, Agri, blame Nightkill for being a lazy bastard. .

[Constaniana]

Really though, Caribbean Spanish Waiter has stories to tell. He's seen some shit.

He plays fighter jet polo with Clara Rookbreach using flaming machetes.

[Nationstatelandsville]

It! Is! Fucking! Cold!

[Nightkill the Emperor]

It! Is! Fucking! Cold!

I've heard.

[Constaniana]

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.

Ciao di nuovo: Sir Nilark runs into his doubts and an old flame in Florence. Also, a ginger Yorkshirewoman punches Glaswegian drug lords. The title's fine, but I'll see if I can think of a better summary for the portion with William and Sophie.

[Constaniana]

It! Is! Fucking! Cold!

I'm not sure where the phrase comes from, but "It's cold as a witch's tit" is a very accurate description of the weather right now.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Will try to post.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

It appears that the Eastern USA is so cold that it disproves global warming.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

It appears that the Eastern USA is so cold that it disproves global warming.

...Wut.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

It appears that the Eastern USA is so cold that it disproves global warming.

...Wut.

Donald Trump is an idiot.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

...Wut.

Donald Trump is an idiot.

Ah.

I still have no idea what you're talking about but calling someone an idiot clears up things quite a bit. .

[Mavorpen]

It appears that the Eastern USA is so cold that it disproves global warming.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVYg4t8cbGw

[Nightkill the Emperor]

I quite wish India had siestas.

Siestas seem awesome.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

http://m.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-25473150

Beautiful.

[Nude East Ireland]

It's not that cold, you babies.