The Fall of Elfen High (IC, Closed)

[Constaniana]

As Frederick assessed the strength of the chain binding the prisoner to the bedpost, he noticed the Polynesian kneeling next to him. Next, he noticed that the hand with which he was holding the chain grew colder and colder. Again it did not bother him particularly, as it shouldn't bother the King of the North, but it was still an odd sensation, the sudden change of temperature, in his hand, and his hand only. He noticed that the girl was using her ice magic, or 'Elemental manipulation' as she later chose to call it, on his hand, demonstrating its effects before asking if it could possibly be used to weaken the links. The dragon-armed brushed the back of his hand while shrugging, about to say that he had no idea, before noticing that a hand began choking the prisoner, killing him.

He then noticed that all of the slaves who were once in beds now stood up, unchained and with collars of steel welded to their bodies. They seemed entranced, as though they were not really there. They likely weren't, as far as Frederick was concerned. But then, this was not his greatest concern.

"So, what do we do with these guys now, then?" He asked casually as he backed off, outstretching his arms at the same time as if to shield Fen and William, forcing them to back off as well.

"If we didn't have to worry about the prison guards, I'd say we simply blast the ominous robot collars until they either come to their senses or become incapacitated, but I suppose we still need to maintain a degree of stealth for the time being. Fen, see if you can freezes their feet to the floor to stop them from moving until we think of something better," Sir Nilark murmured.

[Cerillium]

Fen's head slowly swiveled to look at Frederick. It was difficult to read her expression: the Polynesian's nostrils were flared yet the rest of her face conveyed a strangely blasé demeanor. Her bottom lip was briefly captured by wide, white teeth before slowly slipping from captivity to liberate a single, softly puffed word.

"Fuck."

Her clenched jaw indicated that she wasn't making an offer.

The dark corner of her mind wondered if they wouldn't have to worry about sparking an uprising. The slaves' caterwaul was sure to draw attention to this place. She withdrew along with her companions. This wasn't going well at all.

"Freeze feet," she nodded to Sir William.

Then again, that might make the damn things wail louder.

The temperature around the Polynesian dropped considerably. She pressed her palms to the floor to release a frosted shock wave which radiated outward and splintered around the innocent wailers to spare them even as it gained the ground under the walking 'sleepers'. It was a slick sheet, impossibly smooth, which then rippled upwards to ensnare feet and legs. It wouldn't last forever but it would momentarily deter.

[Nationstatelandsville]

"Crowley?" Megan asked, inching slowly towards the wizard - or whatever the hell he was, "Aleister, listen to me. I think we all just need to calm down a bit here."

Lewis glared. He twitched.

"This is bullshit," he mumbled.

"Aleister, are you listening to me?" Megan asked.

"All of this..." Lewis said, "...the past two decades. It's all a fuckin' lie."

"Aleister?"

"Ye' lied to me."

"Aleister?"

"Fuck this!"

Lewis raised his cane and pointed the end directly at the face of God. It was now that his modification revealed themselves; when he pressed down on the grip, a needle of cold iron burst from the end. The end of the cane exploded outwards and flew directly at Richard's face.

An inch away, it exploded into shrapnel. The needle kept going, towards his right eye.

Fen's head slowly swiveled to look at Frederick. It was difficult to read her expression: the Polynesian's nostrils were flared yet the rest of her face conveyed a strangely blasé demeanor. Her bottom lip was briefly captured by wide, white teeth before slowly slipping from captivity to liberate a single, softly puffed word.

"Fuck."

Her clenched jaw indicated that she wasn't making an offer.

The dark corner of her mind wondered if they wouldn't have to worry about sparking an uprising. The slaves' caterwaul was sure to draw attention to this place. She withdrew along with her companions. This wasn't going well at all.

"Freeze feet," she nodded to Sir William.

Then again, that might make the damn things wail louder.

The temperature around the Polynesian dropped considerably. She pressed her palms to the floor to release a frosted shock wave which radiated outward and splintered around the innocent wailers to spare them even as it gained the ground under the walking 'sleepers'. It was a slick sheet, impossibly smooth, which then rippled upwards to ensnare feet and legs. It wouldn't last forever but it would momentarily deter.

The slaves stopped in their tracks, but continued to scramble towards them, arms outstretched. For now, however, they had been stopped.

"Yes." Calliel declared. He quickly waved a piece of paper in the commandant's face, far too fast for him to properly read. All he could see was that it was written in Hebrew script, the official script in Heaven. "I'm an inspector. Lord Uriel believes you may have taken artefacts from the pagan faiths on Earth, and is very curious to see if these rumours are true or not." the angel said, sounding completely serious, having picked up elements of The Art of Bullshit from his friend Laz.

The piece of paper was just a grocery list he had made for himself while staying in Israel, but the Commandant didn't need to know that. "I'm afraid my co-worker and I will need to search this place."

"Where the raphael is he going?!" the commandant shouted. He bolted back into his living room, ignoring his screaming wife, and bolted down the stairs after Aziraphale.

The commandant entered to find a room of humming computer towers and blinking monitors, security cameras and displays. Also, a mess of wires with a focused Aziraphale entangled in them.

The angel looked up and noticed the commandant, "Inspecting your wires."

Aziraphale yanked a red cord from the mess.

---

The collared slaves blinked and, almost in unison, yawned.

"Why are my feet cold?" one asked.

"Why can't I move?" said another.

"What's a furry?" questioned a third.

They were awake. They were free.

---

Aziraphale grinned sheepishly.

The commandant roared with fury and drew a pistol from his dressing gown. He did not shoot Aziraphale. Rather, he immediately turned around, pushed the gun into Calliel's gut, and fired.

Situations such as this are why high-powered megaphones exist.

"Open fire on the androids. Seal the hole, destroy their automatic weapons so no more can enter the Yamato. Shimikaze, open fire on any androids currently outside the ship, take care not to hit us."

Immediately, the Shimikaze set out to comply. It raised itself slightly off the ground and opened fire with three of its five main guns, firing shells with self-contained force fields at the androids still outside the breach in the Yamato's hull.

The Yamato itself rocked violently away from the Shimikaze, attempting to dislodge the androids, or at least rattle them up while engineers crawled down the side to repair the hole.

And then Yuzuki's 'soldiers' showed up.

It was a bit like the Continental Army in that there was no set uniform, just a general idea of a uniform. Nor was there one set group of people fighting. There were students of the various clubs that had helped in constructing the fleet, there were lower faculty members of Elfen High, there were even some of Yuzuki's yokai friends from Gensokyo Prefecture, Japan. [Gensokyo being the pocket dimension where the vast majority of Japan's yokai population moved shortly after the introduction of the camera to Japan. It was officially annexed in 1953.] They didn't have a set uniform, they didn't have set weapons, they didn't even have similar IQs, really.

But they did know the ship far better than the androids, and thus knew how to prepare for a shaking. They were also well-trained for combat, and had an almost suicidal bravo akin to a Marine. And they tore into the androids.

A group of twenty some androids fell into a circle, raising their weapons. They were surrounded by a group of rather angry students, advancing at them with every weapon from a laser gun to an axe made of some sticks and a heavy rock.

And then they cast them aside. In a close combat situation such as this, they were more a liability than anything else.

Scratched and scuffed by the bullets fired at them, but nonetheless unhurt, the androids in unison raised their arms to the ir fullest length and made their hands into claws.

A sickening zap! exploded outwards as the bluest blue lightning exploded from each of their fingertips, crashing into a human body - fatally so. The smell of burnt flesh filled the Yamato.

[Lazarian]

Ivy, having figured out how to pilot the TIE fighter (with a slight bit of error), swerved haphazardly past the flank of a golden dragon. Its auric scales shimmered as it flapped forward, enormous wings propelling it towards Avalon, as it readied an enormous inferno in the interior of its throat. Spanning the length of an airplane, the beast swiveled its glistening head towards Ivy, crimson jeweled eyes looking directly at her.

"This is stupid." griped Ivy, firing lasers from the barrels of the rifles attached to the side. She had absolutely no intention of dying here. She had a son and a husband to get back to, dammit. Really, none of this mattered. The only things in the world that did were Calliel and Richard.

She was a little...broken? at the moment? No. That wasn't the right wording. She had been broken before. Entirely different feeling. Confused was a slight bit more accurate. She was an angel - all she had ever wanted, ironically enough. To be a servant of the Lord, who provided everything for her. Even though her past hadn't been the greatest thing, the last ten years had been lovely. Calliel was all she ever wanted. With him around, she was okay.

Except right now, she was...an angel. And in a spaceship. Fighting dragons. She had no idea why or how. It was almost like Heaven over again - no, she wouldn't think about that. A spasm of pain ran across her chest, and she gritted her teeth. Ten years and it still wouldn't heal. Chronic nerve pain, most likely inflicted by magic. She'd seen doctors about it - most reports were inconclusive. Her nerves were fine. She mostly just drowned it in painkillers, but, really, it was fine as long as she didn't spend too much time dwelling on that nightmare. She never had recieved an explanation for why or how - probably never would.

Anyway, point aside, this was stupid, and she had no intention of dying. With a stroke of her wrist, she launched a cavalcade of missiles at the dragon.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Ivy, having figured out how to pilot the TIE fighter (with a slight bit of error), swerved haphazardly past the flank of a golden dragon. Its auric scales shimmered as it flapped forward, enormous wings propelling it towards Avalon, as it readied an enormous inferno in the interior of its throat. Spanning the length of an airplane, the beast swiveled its glistening head towards Ivy, crimson jeweled eyes looking directly at her.

"This is stupid." griped Ivy, firing lasers from the barrels of the rifles attached to the side. She had absolutely no intention of dying here. She had a son and a husband to get back to, dammit. Really, none of this mattered. The only things in the world that did were Calliel and Richard.

She was a little...broken? at the moment? No. That wasn't the right wording. She had been broken before. Entirely different feeling. Confused was a slight bit more accurate. She was an angel - all she had ever wanted, ironically enough. To be a servant of the Lord, who provided everything for her. Even though her past hadn't been the greatest thing, the last ten years had been lovely. Calliel was all she ever wanted. With him around, she was okay.

Except right now, she was...an angel. And in a spaceship. Fighting dragons. She had no idea why or how. It was almost like Heaven over again - no, she wouldn't think about that. A spasm of pain ran across her chest, and she gritted her teeth. Ten years and it still wouldn't heal. Chronic nerve pain, most likely inflicted by magic. She'd seen doctors about it - most reports were inconclusive. Her nerves were fine. She mostly just drowned it in painkillers, but, really, it was fine as long as she didn't spend too much time dwelling on that nightmare. She never had recieved an explanation for why or how - probably never would.

Anyway, point aside, this was stupid, and she had no intention of dying. With a stroke of her wrist, she launched a cavalcade of missiles at the dragon.

The missiles struck the dragon's eyes, distracting it and causing it to wince and rage, its head turning rapidly to look at Ivy with sightless eyes.

Suddenly, a voice was heard in their heads. For some of them it would be familiar. Damien and Ivy would remember it from their time in Atlantis, and Gabriel's face went white, as he had heard it in his travels.

Gwen and Gabriella would understand it subconsciously, since it was a voice that vibrated in every fabric of their being.

Ah. the voice said. I see. You're attempting to rebel? A pleasure to meet you again, Ivy Green, Damien Seward. As well as the rest of you. The voice was chilling, a freezing sound in their bodies, causing a headache upon simply hearing it.

Leviathan.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

"Crowley?" Megan asked, inching slowly towards the wizard - or whatever the hell he was, "Aleister, listen to me. I think we all just need to calm down a bit here."

Lewis glared. He twitched.

"This is bullshit," he mumbled.

"Aleister, are you listening to me?" Megan asked.

"All of this..." Lewis said, "...the past two decades. It's all a fuckin' lie."

"Aleister?"

"Ye' lied to me."

"Aleister?"

"Fuck this!"

Lewis raised his cane and pointed the end directly at the face of God. It was now that his modification revealed themselves; when he pressed down on the grip, a needle of cold iron burst from the end. The end of the cane exploded outwards and flew directly at Richard's face.

An inch away, it exploded into shrapnel. The needle kept going, towards his right eye.

Upon which, it kept going through. Richard didn't flinch. It merely went through the other side, doing no visible damage. "This body is a hologram." he explained, almost bored. "It's not, again, a real thing at all. A projection, tis all."

"And you are fortunate for that." Crowley - Lucifer - commented. "All those years, and you never told me shit." he chuckled, shaking his head. "Never told me jack shit about who I was."

"Would knowing have been better?" Richard challenged. "Would it have? This way, you improved yourself. Without my intervention, you would have died there - and if I had healed you and told you immediately who you were, you would have embarked back on your mad course of attacking Heaven with the same result-"

"Because clearly, not attacking it went so well." Lucifer said, sounding disgusted. "Look at our home, Father. Look at what has been done here."

"And now you can change it." Richard replied. "A far better story than dying senselessly."

"Cut the crap." Lucifer growled. "I know the true reason you lied. You killed Lilith. Her first death, when she was human. You killed her. I saw you do it. God himself striking her down."

Richard paused, guilt crossing his face instead of the vague, patient smile he had held before.

What.

"Seriously, what?"

Anton walked over to Crowley. Er, Lucifer. Er, fuck it. He examined him, though it was clear that he wasn't simply Crowley. Not fully, at least. He rubbed his chin, taking a deep breath. "Al? Aleister? Or Lucifer? What the fuck? Seriously, how did you not know this? Why did nobody know this? Except Richard - and by the way, Richard, why didn't you say anything? What the... WHY? Don't you think we could've avoided so much death and destruction if you just waved your hand? The Abrahamic War happened because you didn't say anything about how you were - are - God. Yahweh."

He lowered himself onto the floor, continuing to grasp this. "People died. So many people. And demons. And Angels. A whole city in Hell was gone by the end of it. You died. Well, not really. But you could've helped us. Warned us about Uriel. Told us to get ready before. What the fuck. What the actual fuck."

Richard turned to Anton. "And if I were God, if I told people I was God, what do you think would have happened?" he asked. "Do you think they would have believed me then? I'm amazed you believe me now. It's almost a ludicrous claim."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Calliel felt the bullet hit him, tearing through. In a fit of reflex, he grabbed the Commandant's face, sending fire and electricity through his hands and directly into the nervous system of the other angel as blood leaked from his body.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Frederick, arms still outstretched to protect his two teammates, noticed as Fen did as she was told, using her power over ice to encase the feet of the dreaming slaves in a layer of ice, preventing them from moving. With that done, the group of Elfen Highers at least had some more time to think of what to do with the slaves. Frederick, himself was considering the idea of simply heading over and trying to rip off or alternatively bash the devices on the prisoner's collarbones until they became nonfunctional, but there was always the risk of injuring the prisoners themselves, and that was not something the dragon-armed wished to risk. What image would it give to the prisoners not under the influence of the collars, seeing him wounding the others and then claiming that he was here to liberate them?

However, as it turned out, there was no need to think of some way to release the prisoners of their influence. Frederick noticed how, all of the sudden, they seemed to... Wake up, so to speak. The charm was broken, and the prisoners were once again subjected to the will of no one but themselves. That was good. It was good progress.

But they weren't free yet.

The dragon slayer let his arms drop to his sides and turned to look at Fen. "Good job stopping them, but you should release them now." He spoke, nodding at the Polynesian, before looking at the prsioners once again. Half of them were confused, and the other half were frightened, but even then, they would have to do. The angels likely knew of their presence already, anyway. Why, if not because of that, would the awakened slaves have attacked, back when they were still dreaming?

"You'll be able to move soon enough, don't worry." He said reassuringly to those encased in ice, walking over to the corpse of the one slave that had died so far, closing his eyelids and yanking his chain from the bedpost. It was symbolic bullshit, yes, but he did it anyway. "But what do you even want to move for, prisoners as you are?" He asked afterwards, still crouching next to the corpse, but listening carefully, intending to cause a reaction. He was trying to see what was the best way to convince these people to fight for their freedom, frightened as they were.

[Nude East Ireland]

Ivy, having figured out how to pilot the TIE fighter (with a slight bit of error), swerved haphazardly past the flank of a golden dragon. Its auric scales shimmered as it flapped forward, enormous wings propelling it towards Avalon, as it readied an enormous inferno in the interior of its throat. Spanning the length of an airplane, the beast swiveled its glistening head towards Ivy, crimson jeweled eyes looking directly at her.

"This is stupid." griped Ivy, firing lasers from the barrels of the rifles attached to the side. She had absolutely no intention of dying here. She had a son and a husband to get back to, dammit. Really, none of this mattered. The only things in the world that did were Calliel and Richard.

She was a little...broken? at the moment? No. That wasn't the right wording. She had been broken before. Entirely different feeling. Confused was a slight bit more accurate. She was an angel - all she had ever wanted, ironically enough. To be a servant of the Lord, who provided everything for her. Even though her past hadn't been the greatest thing, the last ten years had been lovely. Calliel was all she ever wanted. With him around, she was okay.

Except right now, she was...an angel. And in a spaceship. Fighting dragons. She had no idea why or how. It was almost like Heaven over again - no, she wouldn't think about that. A spasm of pain ran across her chest, and she gritted her teeth. Ten years and it still wouldn't heal. Chronic nerve pain, most likely inflicted by magic. She'd seen doctors about it - most reports were inconclusive. Her nerves were fine. She mostly just drowned it in painkillers, but, really, it was fine as long as she didn't spend too much time dwelling on that nightmare. She never had recieved an explanation for why or how - probably never would.

Anyway, point aside, this was stupid, and she had no intention of dying. With a stroke of her wrist, she launched a cavalcade of missiles at the dragon.

The missiles struck the dragon's eyes, distracting it and causing it to wince and rage, its head turning rapidly to look at Ivy with sightless eyes.

Suddenly, a voice was heard in their heads. For some of them it would be familiar. Damien and Ivy would remember it from their time in Atlantis, and Gabriel's face went white, as he had heard it in his travels.

Gwen and Gabriella would understand it subconsciously, since it was a voice that vibrated in every fabric of their being.

Ah. the voice said. I see. You're attempting to rebel? A pleasure to meet you again, Ivy Green, Damien Seward. As well as the rest of you. The voice was chilling, a freezing sound in their bodies, causing a headache upon simply hearing it.

Leviathan.

"You," Damien said. "I remember you, Leviathan."

Damien winced at the voice of the dragon in his head, turning his fighter as he fired several missiles at the dragon's eyes where Ivy had fired her missiles. He then flipped his fighter so that he narrowly avoided the dragon and flew upwards away from it.

"In case you haven't noticed, I died. Now I'm back. And I'm not dying again until I take you down. On every god and dragon and Fae in the omniverse, I swear it."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Time and space are fucking weird.

So are people. Sometimes people fuck weird too. And that's how Rob Ford was born.

But enough on that. Let's discuss this rp.

Caspian and Peter are very different individuals, but both are experiencing a bit of severe stress right now. Through some bizarre connections, their conciousnesses connected across time and space. Briefly, they saw one another, sitting in a white room.

This connection would seem like an hour or so for them, but would be instantaneousness in their respective universes. Just the two of them in a white room, because I know Astro asked me to get some occasion where his characters could be together because he has to work on that.

They would probably look at each other and their situation with confusion, when Caspian remembered he knew cases like this, when across space and time random telepathic connections are made, and people often wind up in this situation. The White Room Theory, it was called. It wasn't necessarily a white room - the place was like a dreamstate and could be changed according to imagination.

There was also a squirrel there, to everyone's confusion, because not only PCs are in the white room. Squirrels matter as well.

Peter and Caspian would look at each other, puzzled by just who the fuck the other guy was.

[Astrolinium]

The first thing out of Caspian Lawrence's mouth was, "You're naked."

Peter Altier looked the boy in front of him up and down, and then smirked. What came out of his mouth was, "And I'm still dressed better than you."

Caspian wheeled around. "What? What's wrong with this? This is 100% rebel time traveler, you know."

Peter rolled his eyes, standing up. "Did you mug a high school drama department?"

Caspian pulled a face and retorted, "Did a high school drama department mug you?"

Peter snorted and sighed. "No, but I really, really wouldn't be surprised if one did right now."

Caspian stepped forward slightly, dropping the chainsaw that was still in his hands, and then folded his arms across his chest. "Why?" he asked.

Peter said, "I have had... why am I talking to you about this?"

Caspian gestured at the squirrel. "You wanna tell him?"

Peter curled his upper lip at the small mammal, stepping back from it. "I hate squirrels, no. They're vermin."

Caspian frowned, his eyes puppy-dogging. "Aww, I think they're kinda cute."

Peter blew air out of his mouth. "I used to kill them when I was younger. Along with the cats."

Caspian stepped backwards with a fencer's grace. "You're a creepy kid, you know that?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Kid? Please, I'm 34. What are you, 19?"

Caspian grinned broadly, with too many teeth. "That's funny, I'm 39."

Peter straightened out, standing more erect. "Get out."

"I'm a time traveler," said Caspian. "I don't age."

Peter bit his lower lip softly. "I'm the Sphinx. Sort of an Incredible Hulk deal, I guess. I age... somewhat slowly. And then, I've always looked kind of sickly and boyish."

He thought back to Las Vegas just then and shivered.

Caspian cocked his head to the side. "Cold?"

Peter shook his head. "Not at all."

Caspian's eyes flicked downward, towards Peter's crotch. "You sure?"

Peter glared and stuttered, "V... very! Yes!"

Caspian immediately raised his arms defensively. "Alright, alright, just asking. Listen, who are you? This is a White Room, there must be some link that would put us here."

"White Room?"

"This space doesn't actually exist. It's a mental connection between us. And the squirrel. Which says volumes about either our minds or its, probably ours. It doesn't have to be a white room, of course -- we can change it if we want to. But it's just an abstract construct designed to allow us to comprehend the connection in a meaningful way."

Vernon's voice echoed through Peter's mind, and he shivered again, thinking about the ghosts in his past and the adventure inside his mind.

Frowning, he said, "Okay, what could connect us?"

Caspian hmmmed and thought for a minute, and then stepped forward again. He asked, "Where are you and what are you doing right now?"

"I'm in Heaven with a group of people that call themselves Elfen High. Um. Now, my mind isn't really..."

Peter coughed, and continued, "I'm not the best person in the world for reliable memory, but I think God is a spaceship but was a janitor, and the principal -- or headmaster, I suppose -- is actual Lucifer. I know it sounds crazy, but-"

Caspian stepped closer again. "No, it's not crazy at all. You must've come from the invasion. Sorry, did you say... Crowley was... the Devil?"

Peter shrugged apologetically and said, "I think so. I don't... my head hurts." He buried his hands in his face.

Caspian clasped his hands together and pressed them against his nose. "That's... that's quite a development."

Peter looked up. "Why?"

Caspian laughed slightly and said, "As far as I can tell, Crowley helped to save the entire universe during Lucifer's rebellion against Heaven. He's... I go to Elfen High, that man has cameras everywhere, Christ, he watched me nearly have sex with Jacob Harris..."

Peter stepped backwards, shock in his eyes. "You nearly had sex on camera for your...?"

Caspian rolled his eyes. "No! Yes! It's not like that, he's a dirty old man with an eyepatch and he has cameras everywhere. And he's Satan? God damn it."

Peter raised an eyebrow and then shook his head as if to clear it. "Where were you?"

"I was on a spaceship. Not God. The spaceship was the United Kingdom. Like something out of Doctor Who. You watch Doctor Who?"

Peter looked very mildly shocked. "Ew, no."

Caspian threw his hands into the air. "Excuse me. Anyway, we were fighting dragons."

Peter stepped forward. "What sort of dragons?" he asked cautiously. He had had... experience with dragons.

Caspian said, "Big ones. The last thing I remember is... we heard a voice. An awful, terrible voice. It was... it was like the deepest trench in the ocean and the highest mountain on Mars all at once. It was... utterly terrifying. And the one who said he was Damien Seward called it... Leviathan."

Peter's eyes went as wide as saucers. "Damien Seward? Leviathan?"

Caspian stepped forward. "You know those names?"

Peter nodded. "I was just a boy. I had run away from home and made my way to Las Vegas. I ran into... a crazy man, named Cartwright, Vernon Cartwright. He was traveling with some people... uh, Frederick something, this girl who was a spider, a muslima, a mechanic, and then there was Gabriel Thomas, the priest and one of the best men I ever knew. And then there was Damien Seward. Schoolmaster at Jasper... some sort of school there. Town in California. He was the Strix, the mortal enemy of the Sphinx, which made teamwork... complicated, if I remember."

He continued, "We fought vampires and stuff. Vernon, Damien, and Gabriel died. Eventually we got wrapped into this plot to destroy... everything, really. Leviathan was behind it, and he sent this dragon, the Only, down to fight us. Fred killed it. Everyone lived happily ever after, except me."

Peter looked down, breathing heavily. At this point, he and Caspian were standing close enough to touch one another.

He continued, "I was committed after that. I was... I admit I was already messed up. I don't know if I killed people, but I sure as hell thought I had. I was going to be a serial killer, probably. But they... they messed me up in here and I don't... I'm scared, you know. All the time. I don't, can't tell what's real or not, what I made up because I'm a damn schizophrenic and what actually happened."

His voice cracked.

"So much stuff is just bullshit!"

Hot tears were streaming down Peter's face.

Caspian reached out a hand and put it on the other boy's cheek.

"Shhhhh," he said softly. Peter looked up at him -- Caspian was taller by an inch -- with big, brown eyes.

Caspian said, "What's your name?"

Peter blinked at the salt in his eyes, and suddenly they became frantic. He looked left and then right, and then his brow furrowed.

Softly, hoarsely, he shook his head and said, "I can't remember."

[Nightkill the Emperor]

The first thing out of Caspian Lawrence's mouth was, "You're naked."

Peter Altier looked the boy in front of him up and down, and then smirked. What came out of his mouth was, "And I'm still dressed better than you."

Caspian wheeled around. "What? What's wrong with this? This is 100% rebel time traveler, you know."

Peter rolled his eyes, standing up. "Did you mug a high school drama department?"

Caspian pulled a face and retorted, "Did a high school drama department mug you?"

Peter snorted and sighed. "No, but I really, really wouldn't be surprised if one did right now."

Caspian stepped forward slightly, dropping the chainsaw that was still in his hands, and then folded his arms across his chest. "Why?" he asked.

Peter said, "I have had... why am I talking to you about this?"

Caspian gestured at the squirrel. "You wanna tell him?"

Peter curled his upper lip at the small mammal, stepping back from it. "I hate squirrels, no. They're vermin."

Caspian frowned, his eyes puppy-dogging. "Aww, I think they're kinda cute."

Peter blew air out of his mouth. "I used to kill them when I was younger. Along with the cats."

Caspian stepped backwards with a fencer's grace. "You're a creepy kid, you know that?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Kid? Please, I'm 34. What are you, 19?"

Caspian grinned broadly, with too many teeth. "That's funny, I'm 39."

Peter straightened out, standing more erect. "Get out."

"I'm a time traveler," said Caspian. "I don't age."

Peter bit his lower lip softly. "I'm the Sphinx. Sort of an Incredible Hulk deal, I guess. I age... somewhat slowly. And then, I've always looked kind of sickly and boyish."

He thought back to Las Vegas just then and shivered.

Caspian cocked his head to the side. "Cold?"

Peter shook his head. "Not at all."

Caspian's eyes flicked downward, towards Peter's crotch. "You sure?"

Peter glared and stuttered, "V... very! Yes!"

Caspian immediately raised his arms defensively. "Alright, alright, just asking. Listen, who are you? This is a White Room, there must be some link that would put us here."

"White Room?"

"This space doesn't actually exist. It's a mental connection between us. And the squirrel. Which says volumes about either our minds or its, probably ours. It doesn't have to be a white room, of course -- we can change it if we want to. But it's just an abstract construct designed to allow us to comprehend the connection in a meaningful way."

Vernon's voice echoed through Peter's mind, and he shivered again, thinking about the ghosts in his past and the adventure inside his mind.

Frowning, he said, "Okay, what could connect us?"

Caspian hmmmed and thought for a minute, and then stepped forward again. He asked, "Where are you and what are you doing right now?"

"I'm in Heaven with a group of people that call themselves Elfen High. Um. Now, my mind isn't really..."

Peter coughed, and continued, "I'm not the best person in the world for reliable memory, but I think God is a spaceship but was a janitor, and the principal -- or headmaster, I suppose -- is actual Lucifer. I know it sounds crazy, but-"

Caspian stepped closer again. "No, it's not crazy at all. You must've come from the invasion. Sorry, did you say... Crowley was... the Devil?"

Peter shrugged apologetically and said, "I think so. I don't... my head hurts." He buried his hands in his face.

Caspian clasped his hands together and pressed them against his nose. "That's... that's quite a development."

Peter looked up. "Why?"

Caspian laughed slightly and said, "As far as I can tell, Crowley helped to save the entire universe during Lucifer's rebellion against Heaven. He's... I go to Elfen High, that man has cameras everywhere, Christ, he watched me nearly have sex with Jacob Harris..."

Peter stepped backwards, shock in his eyes. "You nearly had sex on camera for your...?"

Caspian rolled his eyes. "No! Yes! It's not like that, he's a dirty old man with an eyepatch and he has cameras everywhere. And he's Satan? God damn it."

Peter raised an eyebrow and then shook his head as if to clear it. "Where were you?"

"I was on a spaceship. Not God. The spaceship was the United Kingdom. Like something out of Doctor Who. You watch Doctor Who?"

Peter looked very mildly shocked. "Ew, no."

Caspian threw his hands into the air. "Excuse me. Anyway, we were fighting dragons."

Peter stepped forward. "What sort of dragons?" he asked cautiously. He had had... experience with dragons.

Caspian said, "Big ones. The last thing I remember is... we heard a voice. An awful, terrible voice. It was... it was like the deepest trench in the ocean and the highest mountain on Mars all at once. It was... utterly terrifying. And the one who said he was Damien Seward called it... Leviathan."

Peter's eyes went as wide as saucers. "Damien Seward? Leviathan?"

Caspian stepped forward. "You know those names?"

Peter nodded. "I was just a boy. I had run away from home and made my way to Las Vegas. I ran into... a crazy man, named Cartwright, Vernon Cartwright. He was traveling with some people... uh, Frederick something, this girl who was a spider, a muslima, a mechanic, and then there was Gabriel Thomas, the priest and one of the best men I ever knew. And then there was Damien Seward. Schoolmaster at Jasper... some sort of school there. Town in California. He was the Strix, the mortal enemy of the Sphinx, which made teamwork... complicated, if I remember."

He continued, "We fought vampires and stuff. Vernon, Damien, and Gabriel died. Eventually we got wrapped into this plot to destroy... everything, really. Leviathan was behind it, and he sent this dragon, the Only, down to fight us. Fred killed it. Everyone lived happily ever after, except me."

Peter looked down, breathing heavily. At this point, he and Caspian were standing close enough to touch one another.

He continued, "I was committed after that. I was... I admit I was already messed up. I don't know if I killed people, but I sure as hell thought I had. I was going to be a serial killer, probably. But they... they messed me up in here and I don't... I'm scared, you know. All the time. I don't, can't tell what's real or not, what I made up because I'm a damn schizophrenic and what actually happened."

His voice cracked.

"So much stuff is just bullshit!"

Hot tears were streaming down Peter's face.

Caspian reached out a hand and put it on the other boy's cheek.

"Shhhhh," he said softly. Peter looked up at him -- Caspian was taller by an inch -- with big, brown eyes.

Caspian said, "What's your name?"

Peter blinked at the salt in his eyes, and suddenly they became frantic. He looked left and then right, and then his brow furrowed.

Softly, hoarsely, he shook his head and said, "I can't remember."

The squirrel started to speak in Aramaic, its native tongue, but switched to Latin for everyone's convenience. "It's alright, my children." the squirrel intoned, trying to help. It did not understand English so it had no idea what was actually going on. "It's alright. Everything will be fine. The Lord works in mysterious ways. I'm sure that your love for one another will resolve itself soon. Just be there for one another, even it is hard."

The squirrel, having no knowledge of English, had interpreted the scene differently. And it had remarkably progressive views for its time.

[Astrolinium]

The squirrel started to speak in Aramaic, its native tongue, but switched to Latin for everyone's convenience. "Bene est, liberi mei." the squirrel intoned, trying to help. It did not understand English so it had no idea what was actually going on. "Bene est. Omnia erunt bona. Dominus viis inscrutabilibus laborat. Credo vestrum in amorem mox se constituturum esse. Modo adestote inter se, etiamsi difficile est."

The squirrel, having no knowledge of English, had interpreted the scene differently. And it had remarkably progressive views for its time.

Caspian wouldn't learn Latin for another 150 or so years. Peter, on the other hand, frowned and turned to glare at the squirrel.

"Te futue," he spat angrily at the creature. Go fuck yourself.

He frowned again, looking down. "Why do I know that? I don't... I can speak Latin, I've checked it with professors at UCLA and Yale and Cambridge, and I speak fluent Latin. But I have no idea when I learned that. It's like it just appeared one day... who am I?"

Caspian pulled his hand from Peter's cheek and put both hands on Peter's shoulders.

"I don't know. A man is the sum of his parts, though. You've told me you're the Sphinx of Thebes. That's one part of you. Think of others, perhaps?"

Peter shook his head and then let it droop forward. He said, "I don't... what else is there?"

"Think," said Caspian. He kissed the top of Peter's head softly.

Peter looked up very suddenly, eyes bright. "I didn't give you permission to touch me with your lips," he said.

Caspian blushed.

Peter added, "A name. There's a name. I don't... Vernon always called me... Vomity. That's all I can recall. Vomity."

Caspian leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowed. "I don't think that's a real name."

Peter's eyes sunk, his face contorting into a frown. "Yes," he said loudly, impatiently, "but it's the only one I can think of and so it's better than nothing!"

Caspian gave a small frown. "I'm sorry. Why did he call you... Vomity?"

Peter shook his head. "I have a... weak stomach. Life really just sort of shits on me as a rule."

Caspian nodded and said, "Well, I don't particularly care to call you Vomity. Like I said, a White Room, we can change it. Change it to a memory, maybe that'll help you."

Peter nodded back and took a deep breath in, recalling. When he let out the breath, the White Room transformed into sunny skies and sandy beaches, a sparkling blue lagoon lapping at the feet of the two young men. In the distance, a few wooded hills rose, but closer was a very quaint little town that looked like it had been plucked off the coast of Italy or Greece.

It was the island of Astrolinium, a figment of Peter's imagination, and it was empty.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

The squirrel started to speak in Aramaic, its native tongue, but switched to Latin for everyone's convenience. "Bene est, liberi mei." the squirrel intoned, trying to help. It did not understand English so it had no idea what was actually going on. "Bene est. Omnia erunt bona. Dominus viis inscrutabilibus laborat. Credo vestrum in amorem mox se constituturum esse. Modo adestote inter se, etiamsi difficile est."

The squirrel, having no knowledge of English, had interpreted the scene differently. And it had remarkably progressive views for its time.

Caspian wouldn't learn Latin for another 150 or so years. Peter, on the other hand, frowned and turned to glare at the squirrel.

"Te futue," he spat angrily at the creature. Go fuck yourself.

He frowned again, looking down. "Why do I know that? I don't... I can speak Latin, I've checked it with professors at UCLA and Yale and Cambridge, and I speak fluent Latin. But I have no idea when I learned that. It's like it just appeared one day... who am I?"

Caspian pulled his hand from Peter's cheek and put both hands on Peter's shoulders.

"I don't know. A man is the sum of his parts, though. You've told me you're the Sphinx of Thebes. That's one part of you. Think of others, perhaps?"

Peter shook his head and then let it droop forward. He said, "I don't... what else is there?"

"Think," said Caspian. He kissed the top of Peter's head softly.

Peter looked up very suddenly, eyes bright. "I didn't give you permission to touch me with your lips," he said.

Caspian blushed.

Peter added, "A name. There's a name. I don't... Vernon always called me... Vomity. That's all I can recall. Vomity."

Caspian leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowed. "I don't think that's a real name."

Peter's eyes sunk, his face contorting into a frown. "Yes," he said loudly, impatiently, "but it's the only one I can think of and so it's better than nothing!"

Caspian gave a small frown. "I'm sorry. Why did he call you... Vomity?"

Peter shook his head. "I have a... weak stomach. Life really just sort of shits on me as a rule."

Caspian nodded and said, "Well, I don't particularly care to call you Vomity. Like I said, a White Room, we can change it. Change it to a memory, maybe that'll help you."

Peter nodded back and took a deep breath in, recalling. When he let out the breath, the White Room transformed into sunny skies and sandy beaches, a sparkling blue lagoon lapping at the feet of the two young men. In the distance, a few wooded hills rose, but closer was a very quaint little town that looked like it had been plucked off the coast of Italy or Greece.

It was the island of Astrolinium, a figment of Peter's imagination, and it was empty.

"What the shit?" The squirrel asked weakly, reverting to Aramaic and likely being understood by none.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Excalibur started to vibrate.

I am perfectly aware of the sex joke that can be made here.

The sword was vibrating in William's hand - yes, yes, fuck off - and it suddenly spoke in his head. Oh. It said quietly. Oh. The Harbinger of the Sun has finally come. Lucifer is awake.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Richard turned to Anton. "And if I were God, if I told people I was God, what do you think would have happened?" he asked. "Do you think they would have believed me then? I'm amazed you believe me now. It's almost a ludicrous claim."

"Maybe we don't believe you," Megan said.

"...Huh?" Lewis replied.

"Think about it," she continued, "what absolute nonsense. We know Richard. I saw his body. I saw his casket. I saw his body in his casket. If Richard is a God, and if Richard died, how could he be here? The angels don't get two lives, I see no reason why Yahweh should. So, there are two possibilities here; either Richard is lying to us, or that's not Richard. And I don't see how some spaceship - which can't even create a solid hologram now - could have been or made Richard."

Calliel felt the bullet hit him, tearing through. In a fit of reflex, he grabbed the Commandant's face, sending fire and electricity through his hands and directly into the nervous system of the other angel as blood leaked from his body.

The elderly commandant fell to the ground, dead.

"Excellent," Aziraphale said, nodding to his comrade, "Let's move."

The other angel ran up the stairs out of the house, once more ignoring the commandant's screaming wife.

"You'll be able to move soon enough, don't worry." He said reassuringly to those encased in ice, walking over to the corpse of the one slave that had died so far, closing his eyelids and yanking his chain from the bedpost. It was symbolic bullshit, yes, but he did it anyway. "But what do you even want to move for, prisoners as you are?" He asked afterwards, still crouching next to the corpse, but listening carefully, intending to cause a reaction. He was trying to see what was the best way to convince these people to fight for their freedom, frightened as they were.

"Fuck you, wanker!" barked one of the few who knew English, "What's that even fucking mean?"

He was elbowed in the ribs by another. He frowned.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Richard turned to Anton. "And if I were God, if I told people I was God, what do you think would have happened?" he asked. "Do you think they would have believed me then? I'm amazed you believe me now. It's almost a ludicrous claim."

"Maybe we don't believe you," Megan said.

"...Huh?" Lewis replied.

"Think about it," she continued, "what absolute nonsense. We know Richard. I saw his body. I saw his casket. I saw his body in his casket. If Richard is a God, and if Richard died, how could he be here? The angels don't get two lives, I see no reason why Yahweh should. So, there are two possibilities here; either Richard is lying to us, or that's not Richard. And I don't see how some spaceship - which can't even create a solid hologram now - could have been or made Richard."

"Maybe you just need to have faith." Richard quipped, a grin on his face.

Lucifer/Crowley sighed. "That is Richard." he said, and his voice sounded different. It wasn't his usual RP English, nor was it the Cockney he occasionally terrified people with. It sounded much more Scottish now. "And that is indeed God. I can remember it clearly, and I can sense it. You can ask your son if you want clarification, Megan, as he appears to have known for some time."

---

Calliel looked rather stunned by what he had done. "I'm sorry, I truly am." he told the wife as he followed his friend. Then he suddenly stopped. "Ma'am, what's your name? What was his name? I feel I need to know this at least."

[Nationstatelandsville]

"Maybe we don't believe you," Megan said.

"...Huh?" Lewis replied.

"Think about it," she continued, "what absolute nonsense. We know Richard. I saw his body. I saw his casket. I saw his body in his casket. If Richard is a God, and if Richard died, how could he be here? The angels don't get two lives, I see no reason why Yahweh should. So, there are two possibilities here; either Richard is lying to us, or that's not Richard. And I don't see how some spaceship - which can't even create a solid hologram now - could have been or made Richard."

"Maybe you just need to have faith." Richard quipped, a grin on his face.

Lucifer/Crowley sighed. "That is Richard." he said, and his voice sounded different. It wasn't his usual RP English, nor was it the Cockney he occasionally terrified people with. It sounded much more Scottish now. "And that is indeed God. I can remember it clearly, and I can sense it. You can ask your son if you want clarification, Megan, as he appears to have known for some time."

Megan then flipped the Devil off.

"You're not exactly in the proper mental state to say right now, Aleister," Megan said, "Sure, it looks like Richard; but how can we know? Because it talks like him too? Bullshit. I think whatever-this-is is fucking with us. Think; you knew Richard for decades, centuries. And he never once told you your name? Why now? What's changed? And what's he doing here?"

Calliel looked rather stunned by what he had done. "I'm sorry, I truly am." he told the wife as he followed his friend. Then he suddenly stopped. "Ma'am, what's your name? What was his name? I feel I need to know this at least."

The old angel woman replied by tossing a lamp at Calliel's head.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

"It means that you might as well stay frozen if all you're going to do is serve the damned angels!" Frederick roared all of the sudden, still crouching next to the prisoner's corpse, commanding silence in the room nigh instantly. But he was not angry, no. He was merely being forceful, all for the benefit of his little act. He stood up and turned towards the slave who had called him a wanker, pointing accusingly. "What do you even want to move for? They will kill you if you don't obey them, sure, but what makes you think they won't kill you anyway? Look at this poor bastard." He said, pointing now to the dead prisoner on the ground. "They will do that to every single one of you once you stop being useful, and what then? Was it worth it?" He asked, raising his arms as if to emphasize the question as he paced around the area. "No, of course it isn't worth it. Why, then, do you want to please those assholes? What are you hoping for?" The man with the machine guns demanded, rather than ask, and then waited for their answer. If he was to convince them to fight for their freedom, he needed to hear it from them first.

---

"Okay, look, I say he's God, but whether or not he is, it doesn't actually fucking matter that much right now." Ciel chimed in at last, somewhat tired of hearing the others bickering and conscious that if she continued doing nothing her cannoli reserve would reach critical levels far too soon. "He could be lying, yes, but I don't see how that could be of any use to him. And, for that matter, anyone could be lying. You? You could be Elvis Presley in female form or some bullshit. Mr. Cane Grenade over there? He could be Jesus fucking Christ for all we know. Don't argue with that it's just an example." She said, quickly adding that last part as she glanced towards Richard. "So, as I said, we shouldn't waste any more time on this bullshit. And while we're at it, Lucy and the rest of you, might I remind you all that we have to prevent a fucking catastrophe? We haven't even found Fixban's book yet." She stated, before glancing towards Richard. "You, make yourself useful and tell us where it is or something. Or you, Lucy. This is kind of your library." She said.

"Oh, and would somebody explain why God is inside Uriel's daughter, preferably without some stupid sex joke?"

[Agritum]

Lily turned, and her expression broke, Jade showing through for a moment as she wrapped herself in layer after layer of her ablative force armor. This was... this was not okay. Not okay at all. She collapsed, sitting down cross-legged on the 'floor' of the spaceship-bubble-thing, and then shook her head. "Not okay..." she mumbled.

Grace promptly did the same, sitting back-to-back with Lily and clutching her head in her own lap. "God...made an error? And he didn't stop Uriel yet? And...Satan...Lucifer...he wants to protect us? What....what.....what's happening here? Is this a dying dream? Lily, you too...are you...understanding what's happening, even? I'm....not. I can't." she mumbled in an uncertain tone.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

"Maybe you just need to have faith." Richard quipped, a grin on his face.

Lucifer/Crowley sighed. "That is Richard." he said, and his voice sounded different. It wasn't his usual RP English, nor was it the Cockney he occasionally terrified people with. It sounded much more Scottish now. "And that is indeed God. I can remember it clearly, and I can sense it. You can ask your son if you want clarification, Megan, as he appears to have known for some time."

Megan then flipped the Devil off.

"You're not exactly in the proper mental state to say right now, Aleister," Megan said, "Sure, it looks like Richard; but how can we know? Because it talks like him too? Bullshit. I think whatever-this-is is fucking with us. Think; you knew Richard for decades, centuries. And he never once told you your name? Why now? What's changed? And what's he doing here?"

Calliel looked rather stunned by what he had done. "I'm sorry, I truly am." he told the wife as he followed his friend. Then he suddenly stopped. "Ma'am, what's your name? What was his name? I feel I need to know this at least."

The old angel woman replied by tossing a lamp at Calliel's head.

Calliel grabbed the lamp. "I'll leave you to your own work then." he said stiffly, placing the lamp back where it belonged, using a broom to quickly dust off some dirt, and then running after Az.

[Constaniana]

Excalibur started to vibrate.

I am perfectly aware of the sex joke that can be made here.

The sword was vibrating in William's hand - yes, yes, fuck off - and it suddenly spoke in his head. Oh. It said quietly. Oh. The Harbinger of the Sun has finally come. Lucifer is awake.

William looked at the sword now in his hand in surprise and alarm, mentally replying to it.

What the hell do you mean Lucifer is awake? I thought he was dead. Where the devil has he been all this time?!

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Excalibur started to vibrate.

I am perfectly aware of the sex joke that can be made here.

The sword was vibrating in William's hand - yes, yes, fuck off - and it suddenly spoke in his head. Oh. It said quietly. Oh. The Harbinger of the Sun has finally come. Lucifer is awake.

William looked at the sword now in his hand in surprise and alarm, mentally replying to it.

What the hell do you mean Lucifer is awake? I thought he was dead. Where the devil has he been all this time?!

In Elfen High. The sword sounded genuinely worried and concerned. I keep a sort of telepathic connection with my former users, especially that one. Crowley is Lucifer. Always was.

[Constaniana]

William looked at the sword now in his hand in surprise and alarm, mentally replying to it.

What the hell do you mean Lucifer is awake? I thought he was dead. Where the devil has he been all this time?!

In Elfen High. The sword sounded genuinely worried and concerned. I keep a sort of telepathic connection with my former users, especially that one. Crowley is Lucifer. Always was.

...I suppose it's fitting that a place like Elfen High has the devil himself as the headmaster. Sir Nilark might have demanded why Excalibur didn't share this bit of trivia some time earlier, but being kept out of relevant plot details was something he was quite used to by now. And what do you sound so worried about? Is it some other prophecy saying we all die horribly once Lucifer "awakes", as you put it, and it turns out we're all just parts of a dream some kid in a coma was having or some asinine plot twist like that?

[Nightkill the Emperor]

In Elfen High. The sword sounded genuinely worried and concerned. I keep a sort of telepathic connection with my former users, especially that one. Crowley is Lucifer. Always was.

...I suppose it's fitting that a place like Elfen High has the devil himself as the headmaster. Sir Nilark might have demanded why Excalibur didn't share this bit of trivia some time earlier, but being kept out of relevant plot details was something he was quite used to by now. And what do you sound so worried about? Is it some other prophecy saying we all die horribly once Lucifer "awakes", as you put it, and it turns out we're all just parts of a dream some kid in a coma was having or some asinine plot twist like that?

No. Not that I know of. I just had no idea Crowley was Lucifer until he just woke up, just right now. And I'm very worried he's going to burn everything down. He was very much in that mindset when he last held me.