The Fall of Elfen High (IC, Closed)

[Cerillium]

Grace smiled warmly, nodding to the Polynesian girl, clearly appreciating her kindness. "Yes, thanks. I want to see Lily again as soon as possible. I am pretty worried about her health, after what happened in the library, and..."

The British girl paused, sighing.

"...and she happens to be my only close friend, here in the school. Anyways, let's move on, then? You could tell me more about you, Fen, while we walk to the infirmary," Grace suggested, "and I could tell you more about me and my school."

"Certainly," Fen chimed. She gestured towards the hallway that lead to the infirmary and lead Grace along. "There really isn't much to tell about me, though. I grew up on an island that's slowly sinking into the sea, and I was an outcast because of my ice affinity. You'd think people living in the tropics would welcome a cool breeze! But no, I was an ill omen and pretty much spent my days keeping three steps in front of pitch forks and torches."

She snorted. "Okay, it wasn't really that bad. I was an ill omen, but people didn't interact with me because they thought I'd somehow contaminate them with my 'curse'. We're a very backwater people. Only one TV on the island. We still believe gods control the weather, for Pete's sake. Coming to Elfen High was an eye-opener and I'm lost and confused as hell. I had a friend though. Emi. She went away."

Fen's expression remained neutral but she inwardly tensed. She didn't know why Emi had to leave. She didn't know why the Penguin Lord and the Priest had gone off on their own. She was seriously beginning to wonder if she really was cursed or, worse, that people from her island contacted the school and warned them. That would be a bit far-fetched, right? Surely they wouldn't waste money calling Europe (or wherever the school was now)?

"What's your story?" The Polynesian was subconsciously deflecting again.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

They all then immediately ran the fuck toward the Castle of Glass.

Lukas swung his sword, slicing through three Fae humans before they saw anything. Then, very suddenly, everyone woke up, looking directly at them. Out of their eyes they fired blue energy beams at them, intent on ripping them apart.

Merlin threw up a magic shield, blocking off some. Gabriel pulled out a submachine gun, firing away at several of the Fae humans, who were about as fragile as a normal human.

"Things feel very easy right now." muttered Gabriel, as dozens of Faemen fell relatively easily.

This is when someone grabbed Gabriel from behind, and stabbed him directly in the chest with a dagger, causing the very surprised archangel to fall down to the ground, dropping his submachine gun.

Gabriel coughed, turning to see his attacker, who punched him savagely in the face, throwing him off to the side. Set looked at the group, eyebrow raised. The masked man looked down at the wounded archangel, clearly ready to deal a deadly final blow when Lukas tackled him suddenly, knocking him down to the ground.

Set's hand transformed into a drill, stabbing into Lukas' stomach, causing the other man to wince and pull back, the wound closing up. Lukas' hand lit in a flame. "Fuck you." he growled.

Gabriel dragged himself back, closer to Gwen. "Fuck, that's not good." he said, looking down at his chest wound. Fortunately, Set had missed - he had stabbed the part of his chest that his heart hadn't been. It would still cause intense damage, but not as bad as otherwise. "Healer." he barked. "I need a healer. Artist girl, draw me up some bandages and my natural healing will limit the damage."

Gabriel suddenly started doubling over as he coughed, blue light shining from his wound. He looked down at it in suspicion. "Oh fuck, that isn't good." he muttered.

Merlin flew back towards him. "I'll heal you. The rest of you, deal with the masked man or those possessed humans." he ordered. The humans walked ever closer to them, blasting blue energy beams from their eyes. Occasionally, they blasted it out of their hands as well.

They would notice something as they slashed through them - black smoke exited the bodies of the dead through the eyes.

Lukas punched Set in the face, but Set retorted by kicking Lukas in the balls, causing the future Nicholas Carry to wince. Set picked up Gabriel's discarded submachine gun, firing away as Lukas ducked behind a nearby stone wall.

Given that not everyone in the group was a centuries old fighter with years of experience fighting against the multiverse's most dangerous creatures and armed with a legendary sword, this was clearly a job for Queen Gwendolyn. Plus, Set had wounded Gabriel, and no one, no one else but Gwen had the right to do so.

The Queen stood in front of Set, her expression locked in her perpetual frown. With a series of quick and accurate movements, Gwen deflected the bullets with Excalibur, each one of them impacting on the blade of the legendary weapon. In other occasions, she would have simply cut them down in-flight, but right then, Gwen wasn't really in the mood to show off.

Not breaking a sweat, Queen Gwen charged against Set, jumping midway through her attack and striking at him from above, executing a vertical slash.

Set dodged.

It was a remarkably fast dodge. It looked as though he had just sped up through point A and B. He had completely avoided Gwen's attack, which slashed at the empty air.

He then glared at Gwen, before-

Caspian was much stronger than he looked. He was not, however, so strong that he could do anything insane like wield the faux-Excalibur with one hand and his talwar in the other.

This was a fact of life that Caspian found very disappointing. And despite how incredibly cool his new sword was, he wasn't used to it yet. But oh, it would definitely be useful later.

So he sheathed the as-yet-unnamed sword and unsheathed the talwar (which was, incidentally, named Ratna), charging forward, swinging and slashing and thrusting.

He was briefly hit by Caspian, looking disoriented. He grabbed Caspian by the neck, planning on squeezing and ending his life there and then. However, he instead seemed to loosen his grip, changing his mind...and then kneeing Caspian directly in the crotch, tossing him aside...

After receiving thanks for her gifts and responding with a nod to Caspian and with ambiguity to Damien, Lyra found herself in the middle of a battlefield, watching idly as the events unfolded before her. The monsters that trailed behind her vigilantly at every moment had not initially taken part in the battle. Only when the Fae looked at the group and began firing blue beams of energy did they spring to action, surrounding the girl and taking the hits for her as though their life depended on her, more so than it did on themselves, and it did, for more reasons than one. Thus she was kept safe from the attacks of the enemy as the beasts, now alerted, actively tried to suffocate all hostile presences nearby, lashing out at the void-eyed Fae thralls at the same time as they protected their white-haired mistress.

Noticing the sudden appearance of a new enemy, one evidently more powerful than the ones her own servants were dealing with at the moment, Lyra turned to look at the masked man as he fought against Gabriel and Lukas, and then looked at the former as he requested bandages. Merlin assured that he could take care of the situation soon after, but she wasn't entirely certain that meant her bandages weren't necessary, so, while her monsters dealt with the fragile Fae-possessed humans and Lukas and the supposed descendant of Arthur fought against the masked man, she drew Gabriel, but without his wound, and with bandages placed over where it would be had it been present, before willing such a thing into reality. She wasn't sure if it would achieve the intended effect, as that blue glow was definitely not something normal, but if it didn't, there was really nothing else she could do about it, anyway.

Looking back at Set, the girl had a childish thought and smiled to herself as she began drawing Set. And, suddenly, his mask was pink, with hearts and stars.

Set's mask did not change colour. Instead, Lyra's pad lit on fire.

And suddenly, Set was right there, right in front of her, slapping her quite painfully in the face.

Throughout all this, the attacker didn't speak a word, merely working on a methodical rampage as he walked ever closer to Lyra. He punched a nearby Faeman, killing it immediately.

More black smoke exited the creature, forming a shadowy creature above them, slowly but surely.

A dragon made of smoke.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Don Quixote had been staring off into space, humming a merry tune he was composing about his glorious victory over the hated Glass-Tyrant of Avalon, which had impeded his path to righteous battle with the skyships.

That is, until Set slapped Lyra.

Then, Quixote was not very happy at all.

"Cobarde!" he snapped, marching up to Set with his gun raised, "How dare you strike a lady, you vile, dishonorable cur? You have brought disgrace to your father, and your father's father, and the very earth upon which you walk so highly! Such an ego about you, yet you are not even a man! You are worse than shit! Chupame!"

Quixote fired.

---

Lewis - or the Lewis of Dwarven High, at least - was very confused by what was going on, for his part.

"This is bullshit," he resolved quite quickly, "Absolute bullshit. Perhaps, next time, we could avoid challenging an entire city to a fight?"

He eyed the dragon and produced from his coat two broken ends of a staff, which locked to create a pole as tall as he was.

"I'm not afraid you," he said, licking his lips.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

"I'm not afraid you," he said, licking his lips.

Afraid "of". corrected the dragon.

[Nationstatelandsville]

"I'm not afraid you," he said, licking his lips.

Afraid "of". corrected the dragon.

"Yeah," Lewis smirked.

This was probably when the dragon noticed its legs were coated in a thick layer of ice.

"Come here, boy," Lewis taunted, a dome of ice forming around him, "Come and get me."

[Nationstatelandsville]

Nilark rolled forward out of the path of the cherub's weapon, swiftly clasping Excalibur as he did so and drawing it out of its scabbard. He might have been creeped out by the butt-load of eyes all across the body of the creature, but a prank by Dunefiend during their school years had resulted in him getting a glimpse at Yuzuki's search history, so the sight before him paled in frightfulness compared to Yuzuki's favourite websites. Besides, all the eyes simply presented more sensitive spots. William began furiously stabbing the cherub, darting around to make it difficult for the abomination to strike him back. He then launched two radiant blasts at the cherub's wings, intending to simultaneously cripple it and knock it off The Road.

The blasts collided with the cherub's wings, which shattered beneath them; the angel wailed in pain.

William's stabbing, however, did not do much for him, but much for the cherub; for, whenever the blade pierced the beast's malleable flesh, the liquid skin bubbled onto it and solidified. Tendrils of sticky putty clung to Excalibur, dragging it further inside the cherub's stomach; and William too. He began to sweat - the creature's skin radiated intense amounts of heat.

"Stupid boy!" Aziraphale spat. He teleported behind William and grabbed him by the waist, teleporting away and leaving Excalibur in the cherub's gut.

Excalibur was likely quite unhappy about this.

"Stay here!" Aziraphale barked, dropping William roughly on the ground.

Hilde ran after William, moving her arms in a frantic manner, casting various shields and healing buffs on his person, while screaming the name of the spells in heavily Bavarian-accented German. Which was actually quite an ordinary-looking thing, in comparison to the horrendous angelic abomination her boyfriend was currently occupied with.

"William, careful with all those stabs! Don't kill it before I try my new spells on him!" Hilde yelled, before literally jumping on William's back, as if he was some sort of mount, and pointing her hands against the Cherub.

"BLITZKRIEG!" she added, with a dramatic voice, unleashing a small lightning storm on the Cherub, Palpatine-style.

On the other hand, this annoyed the cherub quite a bit.

"BAD!" it screamed, "BAD! BAD! BAD!"

The cherub suddenly teleported away, appearing behind Hilde and swinging its massive foot at her, spiking her not unlike a soccer ball.

Ciel walked alongside the others as they headed towards the Road, but when they eventually reached it, it was nothing like she'd imagined even though it was something familiar. She blinked twice, then rubbed her eyes, and, finally, let out an angry curse, sharp and loud. "Really?" She complained, not even bothering to acknowledge the cherub, until it roared and tried to club William, at which point she sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she'd have to cross this forsaken hellhole in order to get to the Capital and smash its defences. It was all for the sake of ending this damned war already, she told herself, though that didn't really help much.

Figuring she should probably try to help with the immediate threat, she took her weapon and began toying around with the buttons placed on the hammer's shaft, noticing that numbers seemed to come up as she did so. She settled for a number, a big one, figuring that it should be enough, and then looked back at the beast, watching as Hilde jumped on top of William and cast spells at it.

"Well, you sure seem to enjoy riding him." She remarked as she approached the cherub. Perhaps those two could take care of the beast by themselves, but then again, perhaps not, and it was due to this reasoning that she decided to try to whack the thing sideways with her hammer to see if she could push it off the Road so that it would bother them no more.

The cherub did not move; instead, Ciel's hammer also became caught in its bubbling hide.

"Goddamn it!" Aziraphale complained loudly. He threw his hand out into the air, the skin around Ciel's hammer freezing until it was brittle.

Very quickly, however, the skin began to steam.

"It's much too hot to freeze," Aziraphale noted.

"How 'bout this?" Lewis offered. He pointed the end of his cane at the cherub and a metal dart exploded out of it, flying into the cherub's face; the second it made contact, the dart exploded into shrapnel and tore the creature's head apart.

For a moment, it was stunned; but rapidly, new flesh began to fill in the old, rebuilding the angel's skull.

"So, that ain't gonna' work either," he sighed, "What about the bitch's fancy magic tricks?"

[Constaniana]

Stealing a man's prized possession is generally liable to tick them off, especially if said possession happens to be one of the most powerful weapons in existence. Sir William didn't bother to mentally respond to Excalibur's cries of alarm and profuse profanities, focusing on collecting magic into his hands. The cherub only appeared vulnerable to magic, and given that Lewis and Az's ice magic was as useful against its steamy, vile skin as chopsticks were for eating soup, it seemed he was one of the few left in the group that had any capability of slaying it. William had blasted the cherub's wings off with his magic, and it didn't seem as if the rest of it was any more resistant to it, judging by how effective Hilde's pain magic was.

"Just because I want to smack Hilde sometimes doesn't give you any right to, you twisted cunt!" he shouted, before firing a frantic barrage of radiant blasts at the cherub. The knight had found a weakness, and intended to spam the hell out of it.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Ciel was quite understandably annoyed by the results of her attack, more because the cherub didn't seem to move at all with the blow than because her hammer had been caught in the damn thing's fluid skin. She took the opportunity to break free of its hold when it was given to her, drawing back the hammer when Aziraphale froze the creature's skin enough for it to be rendered rigid and frail, but she was still frustrated that such a strike didn't seem to manage anything other than distract a fraction of its hide for a second. She wondered what exactly she should do, then. It was clearly not a creature that could be defeated via mundane means such as weapons and brute strength, and her fighting relied on both of those things to be of any effect. Thus, eventually she setlted on the most reasonable thing: Leave it to the people who could actually do a damn against that thing and simply stand back for the time being. Sure, it was cheap, and she didn't like it, but there wasn't a whole lot she could do at the moment anyway.

As she stepped back she noticed the man with the machine gun arms standing off to the side as well with his arms crossed, observing. She raised her eyebrow and walked up to him.

"So why aren't you doing anything?" She asked.

Frederick, saying nothing, promptly raised his left arm and riddled the cherub with bullets that most likely did very little damage to the creature. Next, he simply crossed his arms once again.

"Oh." She said.

---

Lyra noticed the fire and dropped her pad immediately, the object falling onto the snow and being put out by the cold atmosphere of the area, though not before being rendered useless by the flame. The loss of one of her most important tools came as a surprise, but Lyra didn't really mind that much. She wouldn't be able to help on short notice, but she had replacements. She then looked up from the snow, only to see Set standing right there next to her, which evidently came as a surprise as well.

One of her monsters, a hulking beast twice as tall as a man and with several hooks of skin and bone jutting out of its purplish torso, was currently using the aforementioned appendages to tear apart the Fae thralls present in order to better protect Lyra from them and their blue eye-blasts. But all of the sudden, with a grunt of pain it fell to the ground as though some force had just pushed it into the snow, as if it was some sort of monstruous, invisible might, or as if it was much smaller than it really was. It growled in pain for several moments, before finally trying to get back up once again, recovering from the sudden damage, which had left its elongated shark-like head bleeding from the side.

Lyra, in the mean time, found herself lying on the snow. She sat up, looking up at Set who seemed to be approaching, and rubbed her cheek, but only out of the vaguest sensation that it should probably be red and hurt a lot right now.

"Ow. That was mean." She pointed out.

Several of the monsters, meanwhile, were now headed towards Set and Lyra. A majority, in fact. Some were still on the periphery, fighting the Faemen and blocking their beams, but they as a whole had obviously identified Set as a greater, more immediate threat to the safety of their 'mother', and so they headed towards him in order to protect her. Perhaps they couldn't do much against the ancient God, but they evidently didn't worry about that, more than willing to make a sacrifice to protect her.

Or, as willing as a monster could look, anyway.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

---

Lyra noticed the fire and dropped her pad immediately, the object falling onto the snow and being put out by the cold atmosphere of the area, though not before being rendered useless by the flame. The loss of one of her most important tools came as a surprise, but Lyra didn't really mind that much. She wouldn't be able to help on short notice, but she had replacements. She then looked up from the snow, only to see Set standing right there next to her, which evidently came as a surprise as well.

One of her monsters, a hulking beast twice as tall as a man and with several hooks of skin and bone jutting out of its purplish torso, was currently using the aforementioned appendages to tear apart the Fae thralls present in order to better protect Lyra from them and their blue eye-blasts. But all of the sudden, with a grunt of pain it fell to the ground as though some force had just pushed it into the snow, as if it was some sort of monstruous, invisible might, or as if it was much smaller than it really was. It growled in pain for several moments, before finally trying to get back up once again, recovering from the sudden damage, which had left its elongated shark-like head bleeding from the side.

Lyra, in the mean time, found herself lying on the snow. She sat up, looking up at Set who seemed to be approaching, and rubbed her cheek, but only out of the vaguest sensation that it should probably be red and hurt a lot right now.

"Ow. That was mean." She pointed out.

Several of the monsters, meanwhile, were now headed towards Set and Lyra. A majority, in fact. Some were still on the periphery, fighting the Faemen and blocking their beams, but they as a whole had obviously identified Set as a greater, more immediate threat to the safety of their 'mother', and so they headed towards him in order to protect her. Perhaps they couldn't do much against the ancient God, but they evidently didn't worry about that, more than willing to make a sacrifice to protect her.

Or, as willing as a monster could look, anyway.

Some of the monsters managed to bounce around Set, who kicked and punched them viciously when

Don Quixote had been staring off into space, humming a merry tune he was composing about his glorious victory over the hated Glass-Tyrant of Avalon, which had impeded his path to righteous battle with the skyships.

That is, until Set slapped Lyra.

Then, Quixote was not very happy at all.

"Cobarde!" he snapped, marching up to Set with his gun raised, "How dare you strike a lady, you vile, dishonorable cur? You have brought disgrace to your father, and your father's father, and the very earth upon which you walk so highly! Such an ego about you, yet you are not even a man! You are worse than shit! Chupame!"

Quixote fired.

Quixote's shot caught Set in the head, disorienting the god and making him stagger as some of Lyra's beasts caused it to fall down to the ground, struggling to get them off him.

Afraid "of". corrected the dragon.

"Yeah," Lewis smirked.

This was probably when the dragon noticed its legs were coated in a thick layer of ice.

"Come here, boy," Lewis taunted, a dome of ice forming around him, "Come and get me."

The dragon breathed fire on the ice, solving that problem pretty fast.

It then grabbed Lewis in one massive claw.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

#include <stdlib.h>
#include <time.h>
#include <iostream>
#include <string>
#include <sstream>

using namespace std;

main() {

int agony;
int curiosity;


cout << "Crowley remained in his coma, feeling remarkably unpleasant, in a deep sleep." << endl;

cin >> agony;

//user inputs "A sheer blinding overwhelming pain took Crowley suddenly, causing him to shake in his slumber, twitching and wincing."

cout << agony << endl;

cout << "Crowley continues shaking, wincing and in obvious pain and duress. He is in a dream. In this dream, he sees a world of snow stretching out forever. A masked man stands there." << endl;

if (curiosity == true) {
cout << "Shouting, Crowley approaches the masked figure, seeing him staring down at...students of his? He recognised one. Lyra, or some such. She was a worker for him, he recalled. Did some work or another. He looked at the rest of the crowd....was that Don Quixote?" << endl;

cout << "Suddenly, Crowley found himself mentally elsewhere, within a castle of glass, looking at a wounded and injured prisoner. Ganesh, he realised. What the shit?"
} else {
cout << "Nothing occurs. Crowley returns to his slumber. But we're not in that universe, because I'm not that kind." << endl;

}
}


//Yes, you'll have a proper update about Crowley sooner or later. But I was going just slightly mad today. This is also a joke, don't reply to it..

[Nude East Ireland]

Damien ran up to the smoke dragon. In one hand, his new sword. In the other, a fist that burned through the air. He stopped in his tracks, before sending a stream of heat into the smoke dragon's side. "Lewis!" he yelled "Let's kick this dragon's ass!"

He twirled his sword in his hand. So, he thought, What do I call you, hm? So many options for a badass sword name.

He threw another blast of flames into the dragon. I've got it. Hellsing. Yeah, that sounds good. He smirked.

[Astrolinium]

Caspian had time-traveled for over twenty years.

In this time, he had learned but one truly important lesson: wear a cup.

Unfortunately, that did not protect him from the trauma of being hurled aside by an Egyptian god. He landed roughly and groaned.

Ratna went flying into a snowdrift; Caspian pulled out the unnamed clock-sword, forcing himself to stand. Hefting it in both hands, he looked up.

A small voice in the back of his head said, That looks quite familiar -- it reminds me of Las Vegas.

He charged at the dragon, swinging at it.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Set's fists and feet where evidently powerful if they could kill a man with a single blow, but the monsters seemed to ignore such an obvious fact as they charged at the Egyptian with a relentlessness that was as though they were, in fact... Panicked, so to speak. The ones that arrived to protect Lyra from their unexpected visitor attacked Set with everything they had. Claws and maws, and vile burning bile, and everything else the girl had thought of putting in her creations, was being used to hold the Egyptian at bay so that it would not hurt her. This, it seemed, was their primary goal, their only goal at the moment, perhaps. For obvious reasons, not all of the monsters were there, as some still had to stand their grounds and hold back the human Fae thralls, since most members of the group seemed to be directing their attention towards Set himself or the black dragon that had been summoned, but they all seemed to work towards the same simple goal.

Lyra, herself, stood up, still idly rubbing the cheek Set had hit as she watched him be shot in the head and get tackled to the ground by a particularly large beast of a creature, with several fists across its body. Other monsters of different makes and sizes began piling up on the Egyptian deity so as to impede its movement if they could. All the while, they contined trying to damage the God in order to ultimately stop it from being able to try to hurt her again, if that was even possible to accomplish. But as they did this, the girl merely watched.

"Who are you?" She finally asked.

[Agritum]

Grace smiled warmly, nodding to the Polynesian girl, clearly appreciating her kindness. "Yes, thanks. I want to see Lily again as soon as possible. I am pretty worried about her health, after what happened in the library, and..."

The British girl paused, sighing.

"...and she happens to be my only close friend, here in the school. Anyways, let's move on, then? You could tell me more about you, Fen, while we walk to the infirmary," Grace suggested, "and I could tell you more about me and my school."

"Certainly," Fen chimed. She gestured towards the hallway that lead to the infirmary and lead Grace along. "There really isn't much to tell about me, though. I grew up on an island that's slowly sinking into the sea, and I was an outcast because of my ice affinity. You'd think people living in the tropics would welcome a cool breeze! But no, I was an ill omen and pretty much spent my days keeping three steps in front of pitch forks and torches."

She snorted. "Okay, it wasn't really that bad. I was an ill omen, but people didn't interact with me because they thought I'd somehow contaminate them with my 'curse'. We're a very backwater people. Only one TV on the island. We still believe gods control the weather, for Pete's sake. Coming to Elfen High was an eye-opener and I'm lost and confused as hell. I had a friend though. Emi. She went away."

Fen's expression remained neutral but she inwardly tensed. She didn't know why Emi had to leave. She didn't know why the Penguin Lord and the Priest had gone off on their own. She was seriously beginning to wonder if she really was cursed or, worse, that people from her island contacted the school and warned them. That would be a bit far-fetched, right? Surely they wouldn't waste money calling Europe (or wherever the school was now)?

"What's your story?" The Polynesian was subconsciously deflecting again.

"I was born in Liverpool, Merseyside, back in Britain. Ever heard of it? The Beatles were from there. It was a pleasant city, I guess, but...to be honest, I can't remember much of it. It was destroyed during the Abrahamic War, and my family and I escaped to Yorkshire, since we had relatives there. I lived there for a good part of my youth, before my parents decided to send me abroad, to study. They thought I didn't have much chances, back in Britain, and that all the devastation there would have impaired my upbringing, anyways."

Grace glanced down at the floor, bringing her memories back to mind. "They sent me to Malta. See, there's a Catholic school which teaches subjects similar to Elfen High's, there. It's called the Saint Gabriel Of Our Lady of Sorrow's Institute for Catholic Youth, and I have been a student there for about five-six years. My family was devoutly Catholic, and...well, they thought I should have been educated in the Catholic way. Thing is, I was never good with magic, and due to this I was picked on by almost half of the school. Then....I don't know how to explain it, but I suddenly discovered that I was...skilled. I couldn't cast a spell, but I could do a very convincing wallrun during PE, beat the best ones in fencing class, and set a good time on the running track. The principal there said I was...gifted, to some degree."

Grace glanced up towards Fen. "Due to that, I got to participate in some special classes built around my peculiar skills, and eventually the school decided to send me here in Elfen as an exchange student. I met Lily during said occasion."

The Scouser girl glanced again at the ground, before putting an hand on her own side. "Anyways, you said you were from a Pacific island, right? How did you even hear about Elfen High? Did Principal Crowley or someone else from the staff pay you a visit and bring you here?"

[Nationstatelandsville]

Stealing a man's prized possession is generally liable to tick them off, especially if said possession happens to be one of the most powerful weapons in existence. Sir William didn't bother to mentally respond to Excalibur's cries of alarm and profuse profanities, focusing on collecting magic into his hands. The cherub only appeared vulnerable to magic, and given that Lewis and Az's ice magic was as useful against its steamy, vile skin as chopsticks were for eating soup, it seemed he was one of the few left in the group that had any capability of slaying it. William had blasted the cherub's wings off with his magic, and it didn't seem as if the rest of it was any more resistant to it, judging by how effective Hilde's pain magic was.

"Just because I want to smack Hilde sometimes doesn't give you any right to, you twisted cunt!" he shouted, before firing a frantic barrage of radiant blasts at the cherub. The knight had found a weakness, and intended to spam the hell out of it.

The cherub wailed as about half of William's blasts hit it in quick succession, before it vanished.

"I hate it when it does that," Lewis sighed, ruffling his mustache with his exhale.

Suddenly, the sun above Lewis vanished, replaced with a shadow. He glanced up to find the cherub's massive foot descending on him.

"Fuck no!" he spat, stabbing his spear into it; the dart on the spear promptly exploded, cracking the spear in half and destroying it. Lewis, for his part, rolled away with scorched hands. The cherub's foot was destroyed, but slowly began to reform; for now, it stumbled backwards and fell on its ass.

Damien ran up to the smoke dragon. In one hand, his new sword. In the other, a fist that burned through the air. He stopped in his tracks, before sending a stream of heat into the smoke dragon's side. "Lewis!" he yelled "Let's kick this dragon's ass!"

He twirled his sword in his hand. So, he thought, What do I call you, hm? So many options for a badass sword name.

He threw another blast of flames into the dragon. I've got it. Hellsing. Yeah, that sounds good. He smirked.

"HELP ME!" Lewis screamed in return.

He began to frantically punch the dragon in the jaw.

Quixote's shot caught Set in the head, disorienting the god and making him stagger as some of Lyra's beasts caused it to fall down to the ground, struggling to get them off him.

Quixote ran up to Set and kicked him in the ribs; perhaps not very honorable in of itself, but he was pissed.

"Die!" he spat, shooting Set again.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Set's fists and feet where evidently powerful if they could kill a man with a single blow, but the monsters seemed to ignore such an obvious fact as they charged at the Egyptian with a relentlessness that was as though they were, in fact... Panicked, so to speak. The ones that arrived to protect Lyra from their unexpected visitor attacked Set with everything they had. Claws and maws, and vile burning bile, and everything else the girl had thought of putting in her creations, was being used to hold the Egyptian at bay so that it would not hurt her. This, it seemed, was their primary goal, their only goal at the moment, perhaps. For obvious reasons, not all of the monsters were there, as some still had to stand their grounds and hold back the human Fae thralls, since most members of the group seemed to be directing their attention towards Set himself or the black dragon that had been summoned, but they all seemed to work towards the same simple goal.

Lyra, herself, stood up, still idly rubbing the cheek Set had hit as she watched him be shot in the head and get tackled to the ground by a particularly large beast of a creature, with several fists across its body. Other monsters of different makes and sizes began piling up on the Egyptian deity so as to impede its movement if they could. All the while, they contined trying to damage the God in order to ultimately stop it from being able to try to hurt her again, if that was even possible to accomplish. But as they did this, the girl merely watched.

"Who are you?" She finally asked.

"My name is Set." replied the Egyptian God at last, grabbing the beast's head with several fist with his bare hand. He crushed it with his hand, the skull of the creature being destroyed with a crunch. More black smoke floated upwards, joining with the dragon.

Quixote's shot caught Set in the head, disorienting the god and making him stagger as some of Lyra's beasts caused it to fall down to the ground, struggling to get them off him.

Quixote ran up to Set and kicked him in the ribs; perhaps not very honorable in of itself, but he was pissed.

"Die!" he spat, shooting Set again.

Quixote's leg now hurt as Set glanced at him with curiosity. "What the hell are you even doing here?" muttered Set curiously, punching Quixote once in the chest.

Lukas glared at Set, then looked at the others. "Leave him to me." he ordered. "You go inside the Castle and find Ganesh." He readied his sword, charging at Set, who ran toward him as well, his own sword now materialising.

He threw another blast of flames into the dragon. I've got it. Hellsing. Yeah, that sounds good. He smirked.

"HELP ME!" Lewis screamed in return.

He began to frantically punch the dragon in the jaw.
[/quote]
Lewis needs help.

Damien ran up to the smoke dragon. In one hand, his new sword. In the other, a fist that burned through the air. He stopped in his tracks, before sending a stream of heat into the smoke dragon's side. "Lewis!" he yelled "Let's kick this dragon's ass!"

He twirled his sword in his hand. So, he thought, What do I call you, hm? So many options for a badass sword name.

He threw another blast of flames into the dragon. I've got it. Hellsing. Yeah, that sounds good. He smirked.

Fire hit the dragon, distracting it and causing it to release Lewis. It looked down at Damien, nostrils huffing as it breathed in, ready to unleash a fiery hell.

[Agritum]

Set's fists and feet where evidently powerful if they could kill a man with a single blow, but the monsters seemed to ignore such an obvious fact as they charged at the Egyptian with a relentlessness that was as though they were, in fact... Panicked, so to speak. The ones that arrived to protect Lyra from their unexpected visitor attacked Set with everything they had. Claws and maws, and vile burning bile, and everything else the girl had thought of putting in her creations, was being used to hold the Egyptian at bay so that it would not hurt her. This, it seemed, was their primary goal, their only goal at the moment, perhaps. For obvious reasons, not all of the monsters were there, as some still had to stand their grounds and hold back the human Fae thralls, since most members of the group seemed to be directing their attention towards Set himself or the black dragon that had been summoned, but they all seemed to work towards the same simple goal.

Lyra, herself, stood up, still idly rubbing the cheek Set had hit as she watched him be shot in the head and get tackled to the ground by a particularly large beast of a creature, with several fists across its body. Other monsters of different makes and sizes began piling up on the Egyptian deity so as to impede its movement if they could. All the while, they contined trying to damage the God in order to ultimately stop it from being able to try to hurt her again, if that was even possible to accomplish. But as they did this, the girl merely watched.

"Who are you?" She finally asked.

Gwen gently stepped before Lyra, putting an arm between her and the beasts. "Girl, it's better if you leave the questions to me and step back. I don't trust that masked man and I'd prefer if you took a safe distance from him while your beasts, that Spanish old man and me keep him at bay. Understood? Do you agree?" the Queen said, in a calm tone, keeping her eyes on Set and brandishing Excalibur in her right hand.

"My name is Set." replied the Egyptian God at last, grabbing the beast's head with several fist with his bare hand. He crushed it with his hand, the skull of the creature being destroyed with a crunch. More black smoke floated upwards, joining with the dragon.

Quixote's leg now hurt as Set glanced at him with curiosity. "What the hell are you even doing here?" muttered Set curiously, punching Quixote once in the chest.

Lukas glared at Set, then looked at the others. "Leave him to me." he ordered. "You go inside the Castle and find Ganesh." He readied his sword, charging at Set, who ran toward him as well, his own sword now materialising.

Gwen quickly shifted her tone to an alert one. "Change of plans! Let's get into that castle before that masked scoundrel catches up with us!" the British queen yelled, while rushing next to Quixote and grabbing him, bringing him away from the battlefield. "Are you alright, señor?"

Stealing a man's prized possession is generally liable to tick them off, especially if said possession happens to be one of the most powerful weapons in existence. Sir William didn't bother to mentally respond to Excalibur's cries of alarm and profuse profanities, focusing on collecting magic into his hands. The cherub only appeared vulnerable to magic, and given that Lewis and Az's ice magic was as useful against its steamy, vile skin as chopsticks were for eating soup, it seemed he was one of the few left in the group that had any capability of slaying it. William had blasted the cherub's wings off with his magic, and it didn't seem as if the rest of it was any more resistant to it, judging by how effective Hilde's pain magic was.

"Just because I want to smack Hilde sometimes doesn't give you any right to, you twisted cunt!" he shouted, before firing a frantic barrage of radiant blasts at the cherub. The knight had found a weakness, and intended to spam the hell out of it.

The cherub wailed as about half of William's blasts hit it in quick succession, before it vanished.

"I hate it when it does that," Lewis sighed, ruffling his mustache with his exhale.

Suddenly, the sun above Lewis vanished, replaced with a shadow. He glanced up to find the cherub's massive foot descending on him.

"Fuck no!" he spat, stabbing his spear into it; the dart on the spear promptly exploded, cracking the spear in half and destroying it. Lewis, for his part, rolled away with scorched hands. The cherub's foot was destroyed, but slowly began to reform; for now, it stumbled backwards and fell on its ass.

Damien ran up to the smoke dragon. In one hand, his new sword. In the other, a fist that burned through the air. He stopped in his tracks, before sending a stream of heat into the smoke dragon's side. "Lewis!" he yelled "Let's kick this dragon's ass!"

He twirled his sword in his hand. So, he thought, What do I call you, hm? So many options for a badass sword name.

He threw another blast of flames into the dragon. I've got it. Hellsing. Yeah, that sounds good. He smirked.

"HELP ME!" Lewis screamed in return.

He began to frantically punch the dragon in the jaw.

Quixote's shot caught Set in the head, disorienting the god and making him stagger as some of Lyra's beasts caused it to fall down to the ground, struggling to get them off him.

Quixote ran up to Set and kicked him in the ribs; perhaps not very honorable in of itself, but he was pissed.

"Die!" he spat, shooting Set again.

Hilde, who had landed right on her ass, was too much occupied in screaming racist profanities in German rather than helping William in defeating the Cherub.

"Shitskin abomination of the heavens! I'll have your filthy guts erupt out of all the orifices you have in your body, if you even dare to hit me again!" she screamed, "because no one harms Reichsleiter Hildegard von Wulfbern and gets away with it! William, kill that thing! KILL IIIIIIIIIT!"

[Cerillium]

"I was born in Liverpool, Merseyside, back in Britain. Ever heard of it? The Beatles were from there. It was a pleasant city, I guess, but...to be honest, I can't remember much of it. It was destroyed during the Abrahamic War, and my family and I escaped to Yorkshire, since we had relatives there. I lived there for a good part of my youth, before my parents decided to send me abroad, to study. They thought I didn't have much chances, back in Britain, and that all the devastation there would have impaired my upbringing, anyways."

Grace glanced down at the floor, bringing her memories back to mind. "They sent me to Malta. See, there's a Catholic school which teaches subjects similar to Elfen High's, there. It's called the Saint Gabriel Of Our Lady of Sorrow's Institute for Catholic Youth, and I have been a student there for about five-six years. My family was devoutly Catholic, and...well, they thought I should have been educated in the Catholic way. Thing is, I was never good with magic, and due to this I was picked on by almost half of the school. Then....I don't know how to explain it, but I suddenly discovered that I was...skilled. I couldn't cast a spell, but I could do a very convincing wallrun during PE, beat the best ones in fencing class, and set a good time on the running track. The principal there said I was...gifted, to some degree."

Grace glanced up towards Fen. "Due to that, I got to participate in some special classes built around my peculiar skills, and eventually the school decided to send me here in Elfen as an exchange student. I met Lily during said occasion."

The Scouser girl glanced again at the ground, before putting an hand on her own side. "Anyways, you said you were from a Pacific island, right? How did you even hear about Elfen High? Did Principal Crowley or someone else from the staff pay you a visit and bring you here?"

"Honestly? I don't know if Elfen High found me or someone on the island called to have me taken away. I was awoken, stuffed into clothing, handed bags and, several hours later, I met Mohamed Chandra in an airport and we left for this place. I thought I was too old for school; I'm twenty. Turns out there less schooling here and more "hang on to your butt because you might die" sort of experiences. I've learned a lot since then."

A bemused smiled crept onto her face as she reflected upon her arrival. "I thought perhaps my people sent me here because they wanted to kill me. Then Chandra booted me out of the plane, I bounced across the school and tumbled into Loki and then got dragged into mischief. That's when I knew my suspicions were right." The Polynesian was joking, of course (sort of, maybe).

"Here we are," she pointed towards the infirmary doors. "They'll be able to tell you if Lily's in there - oh!"

The infirmary. Norack. The train. The pub where they stopped in Hell! "Lily! I've met her, briefly, in Spartar. We'd gone for drinks. She said she was a student and had come from a research post in Hell. I hope nothing bad has happened to her. She seemed very nice."

[Constaniana]

Hilde, who had landed right on her ass, was too much occupied in screaming racist profanities in German rather than helping William in defeating the Cherub.

"Shitskin abomination of the heavens! I'll have your filthy guts erupt out of all the orifices you have in your body, if you even dare to hit me again!" she screamed, "because no one harms Reichsleiter Hildegard von Wulfbern and gets away with it! William, kill that thing! KILL IIIIIIIIIT!"

"Fuck off," William snapped, earning a collective cheer from the Omniverse. "Either use your bitch lightning to help me kill it like you pompously say you can, or shut your bitch mouth and make me a bitching sandwich. Baked beans on toast sounds nice about now. If you're feeling extra nice maybe you could put some bacon or fried eggs on it too. Oh, and don't forget the brown sauce, dear," Sir Nilark continued, channelling his inner Jesse Pinkman.

The Yorkshireman had been charging up more magic to continue his relentless attack on the Cherub. It made sense to reduce the beast's mobility and reduce its number of appendages it could use, forcing to exert more magic to teleport around and tire it out quicker. Thus, a rapid flurry of radiant blasts surged towards the wounded foot like a machine gun volley before the cherub could regenerate too much.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

In William's room back at Elfen High, Amitabh Bachchan and the Monty Python group dropped off a very nice shiny medal, autographed with their names.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Caspian had time-traveled for over twenty years.

In this time, he had learned but one truly important lesson: wear a cup.

Unfortunately, that did not protect him from the trauma of being hurled aside by an Egyptian god. He landed roughly and groaned.

Ratna went flying into a snowdrift; Caspian pulled out the unnamed clock-sword, forcing himself to stand. Hefting it in both hands, he looked up.

A small voice in the back of his head said, That looks quite familiar -- it reminds me of Las Vegas.

He charged at the dragon, swinging at it.

The dragon breathed fire at Caspian.

Let's see who wins Fire vs Sword.

[Norvenia]

Daniel Andreas had quietly followed along with the others as the Elfen Highers began their march on the Capitol. When the cherub had appeared, the priest had moved to the back of the group, observing. These people are competent fighters; many of them were much more powerful than Daniel himself. The Sabbatanos' greatest weapon was his mind. Let's see what works against this foe, and what doesn't. Knowing that, Daniel would be able to make his own, very human fighting skills count for that much more.

William quickly demonstrated that sword blows were not going to be useful; Frederick showed that bullets were of equally limited utility. That meant that Daniel's sword, his rifle, and his pistol were all going to be equally useless. Only magic seemed to really hurt the cherub - and magic was exactly what Daniel did not have. The Sabbatonos smiled grimly and rolled his shoulders, loosening his neck. So I shall have to be creative.

Fortunately, Lewis' actions offered a possible solution. The first explosive, to the head, did only a little damage. But the second, the spear to the foot - that blew the cherub's lower leg off, and it still hasn't regrown entirely. So targeting the extremities with powerful explosives might not kill the creature, but it can temporarily disable it, giving the others a chance to strike. Daniel nodded to himself. It might even knock the beast off this bridge, if God gives me good fortune.

It wasn't much of a plan. But it would do.

Daniel smoothly raised his rifle and flipped a switch above the grip, rerouting the trigger's electrical signal to the underbarrel grenade launcher. He aimed at the cherub's arm, and let his breath begin to sigh out.

The next moment, Daniel fired a forty-millimeter high-explosive dual-purpose grenade shell - a munition with enough power to blow the turret off an armored car - straight at the creature's elbow. Without pausing, Daniel smoothly shifted his point of aim until the red dot of his holographic gunsight covered the cherub's other arm. He fired again. And then he re-aimed once more, this time to the knee of the cherub's good leg, and fired his third grenade shell. As the echo faded, the last of Daniel's breath sighed out between his teeth.

The priest reached into a pouch of his armor, and began quickly feeding three fresh shells into his launcher. A grim smile played about Daniel's lips. That ought at least to soften the beast up.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Quixote's leg now hurt as Set glanced at him with curiosity. "What the hell are you even doing here?" muttered Set curiously, punching Quixote once in the chest.

Lukas glared at Set, then looked at the others. "Leave him to me." he ordered. "You go inside the Castle and find Ganesh." He readied his sword, charging at Set, who ran toward him as well, his own sword now materialising.

Quixote muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "Go fuck yourself" in Pashto.

He then produced a lance, seemingly from nowhere, and sighed; Rocinante was long dead by now, and with no steed, this business would be much more difficult.

That is, until he glanced at the dragon, then at Lewis. Lewis shrugged.

With that, Lewis produced a massive bat of ice and smashed the dragon with all his strength, sending it barreling towards Don Quixote. The old hidalgo smiled and jumped into the air, aiming to mount his new steed.

Hilde, who had landed right on her ass, was too much occupied in screaming racist profanities in German rather than helping William in defeating the Cherub.

"Shitskin abomination of the heavens! I'll have your filthy guts erupt out of all the orifices you have in your body, if you even dare to hit me again!" she screamed, "because no one harms Reichsleiter Hildegard von Wulfbern and gets away with it! William, kill that thing! KILL IIIIIIIIIT!"

"Fuck off," William snapped, earning a collective cheer from the Omniverse. "Either use your bitch lightning to help me kill it like you pompously say you can, or shut your bitch mouth and make me a bitching sandwich. Baked beans on toast sounds nice about now. If you're feeling extra nice maybe you could put some bacon or fried eggs on it too. Oh, and don't forget the brown sauce, dear," Sir Nilark continued, channelling his inner Jesse Pinkman.

The Yorkshireman had been charging up more magic to continue his relentless attack on the Cherub. It made sense to reduce the beast's mobility and reduce its number of appendages it could use, forcing to exert more magic to teleport around and tire it out quicker. Thus, a rapid flurry of radiant blasts surged towards the wounded foot like a machine gun volley before the cherub could regenerate too much.

The cherub's leg was completely savaged, destroyed, but regrowing.

It sat up and attempted to stand on a rapidly-regenerating leg.

Daniel Andreas had quietly followed along with the others as the Elfen Highers began their march on the Capitol. When the cherub had appeared, the priest had moved to the back of the group, observing. These people are competent fighters; many of them were much more powerful than Daniel himself. The Sabbatanos' greatest weapon was his mind. Let's see what works against this foe, and what doesn't. Knowing that, Daniel would be able to make his own, very human fighting skills count for that much more.

William quickly demonstrated that sword blows were not going to be useful; Frederick showed that bullets were of equally limited utility. That meant that Daniel's sword, his rifle, and his pistol were all going to be equally useless. Only magic seemed to really hurt the cherub - and magic was exactly what Daniel did not have. The Sabbatonos smiled grimly and rolled his shoulders, loosening his neck. So I shall have to be creative.

Fortunately, Lewis' actions offered a possible solution. The first explosive, to the head, did only a little damage. But the second, the spear to the foot - that blew the cherub's lower leg off, and it still hasn't regrown entirely. So targeting the extremities with powerful explosives might not kill the creature, but it can temporarily disable it, giving the others a chance to strike. Daniel nodded to himself. It might even knock the beast off this bridge, if God gives me good fortune.

It wasn't much of a plan. But it would do.

Daniel smoothly raised his rifle and flipped a switch above the grip, rerouting the trigger's electrical signal to the underbarrel grenade launcher. He aimed at the cherub's arm, and let his breath begin to sigh out.

The next moment, Daniel fired a forty-millimeter high-explosive dual-purpose grenade shell - a munition with enough power to blow the turret off an armored car - straight at the creature's elbow. Without pausing, Daniel smoothly shifted his point of aim until the red dot of his holographic gunsight covered the cherub's other arm. He fired again. And then he re-aimed once more, this time to the knee of the cherub's good leg, and fired his third grenade shell. As the echo faded, the last of Daniel's breath sighed out between his teeth.

The priest reached into a pouch of his armor, and began quickly feeding three fresh shells into his launcher. A grim smile played about Daniel's lips. That ought at least to soften the beast up.

And then it was thrown violently backwards, it s arms turn off.

The cherub smacked hard against the mountain peak, bouncing once, twice, and then rolling down the side. As it tumbled, it became covered in snow, accumulating into a massive snowball that slammed hard into the school and made it shake.

It was not dead, but it was in a lot of pain.

[Constaniana]

And then it was thrown violently backwards, it's arms torn off.

The cherub smacked hard against the mountain peak, bouncing once, twice, and then rolling down the side. As it tumbled, it became covered in snow, accumulating into a massive snowball that slammed hard into the school and made it shake.

It was not dead, but it was in a lot of pain.

Sir William smiled grimly as Daniel blasted the cherub off the top of the mountain. That would kill most other creatures, but he knew the heavenspawn was a tough abomination, and underestimating its ability to survive was a terrible mistake.

"Well, thanks for that, sir," Nilark said with genuine gratitude, gazing down the slope towards the site where the cherub had crashed. His hands glowed white for a few moments before he flung yet another radiant blast down at his foe . "Now, I'm off to get my sword back."

With that, the knight began sprinting down the mountainside, casting more magic attacks as he went, determined not to let the cherub regenerate its way out of death. The last person to nick Excalibur was John Asscrack-houn, and he had nearly lopped his head off. William wasn't going to let this thief get away with the misdeed; no stupid smoke and mask nonsense would steal his justice.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Lyra listened to the Egyptian state his name, watching him crush the head of one of her creatures, killing it instantly. And yet, despite this, she did not feel distressed or fazed by the brutal display. One of her children had given its life for her, right in front of her, yes, but that happened oh so very often anyway, and she could always bring them back to serve once again whenever. Thus, she simply nodded ever so slightly, before turning towards Gwen, who stepped in front of her. She nodded at her as well, understanding the queen's concern for her safety, and began stepping back, as Gwen had asked of her, increasing the distance between herself and the Egyptian God.

As she backed away, though, the girl continued watching, seeing Quixote try to hit and then get punched by the masked deity, who then proceeded to rush towards Lukas as the latter ordered everyone to head towards the castle. Gwen seemed to change her mind rather quickly after hearing that, and so, figuring that their help wasn't necessary anymore, Lyra looked at her beasts. They immediately began heading for the castle as well, leaving behind their battle with Set and whatever Faemen still remained, if any, one of the monsters gently scooping up the girl and carrying her along as they all marched towards their new destination.