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The Fall of Elfen High (IC, Closed)

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Nationstatelandsville
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Founded: Apr 27, 2011
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Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sat Jun 14, 2014 10:55 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Nationstatelandsville wrote:"Call it a 'desperate measure'," the man said, his smile never failing, "These are, after all, quite desperate times. You know that by now, yes?"

He began to wring his hands together, an eager, nervous energy in his old body.

"The angels call it 'Old Night'," he said, "in case you forget. A dark age of dark creatures primordial. A time before the Gotterdamerung and the Lord himself, a time of Ancients. A time of Fae. These times are returning. But you knew that.

What you didn't know is that it is coming very soon. No, not 'very soon'; right now. The work of Yahweh is being undone."

"I almost feel like approving of that." Crowley noted. "Fuck him. Seriously, and with all passion intended-" His voice began turning more Scottish as he spoke, representative of Lucifer's old accent. "Fuck him. What work of his? What's coming undone then, hmm? He didn't create this world." A pause as Crowley remembered the Gotterdammerung. "Well, not all of it and not all by himself." he conceded.

"A prison he once built," the man said, "amongst other things.

Let's begin, however, with a lesson or maybe a review. Do you know what a Fae is? Culturally, historically, yes, but biologically? How about their story? Do you know it? No? Then let me tell it. I've been through much to get this; it's a bit above my office."

He cleared his throat.

"There was once a universe," he began, "before our universe. And there was a universe before that one, known as - to some - the 'Pradesa'. This was the world of Leviathan and the world of his dragons. You're familiar, of course. Leviathan ran his world like a machine - all in order, all mindlessly carrying out their programs. No free will. No deviation. The dragons existed to 'debug' the program of any such... developments. But they ruled for a long time, and like anyone who does, they grew too comfortable for their own good. Their watch got lazy. A planet or two slipped their notice. One of those planets happened to have life on it; life not unlike our two species. Without the dragons monitoring them, this life developed freedom. And with this freedom, this life developed magic. And still the dragons did not notice.

Until this life expanded. Then they were not very happy at all. A war began.

But who watches the watchmen? The dragons too had been corrupted, unnoticed, infected with 'free will'; and so, as the long war, dragged on, they rebelled to end it. Leviathan himself was brought into combat - God against all his creation. This ended predictably poorly for both sides. The Pradesa ended.

But not entirely! Of course, Leviathan survived, you know that. But so did the life that started it all; they were called 'the Fae', or to some of the others who would come after them, 'the Higher-Ups'. Their world was dead, but their minds and their magics were not. They survived, crawling out of the universe, wandering in the ethereal absence around us. A new world began. Our world. They didn't find out for quite some time. They didn't like it very much.

Well, that's not accurate. See, as the Fae melded with their magic to survive, the magic did not become personalized. It remained a continuous force; it simply now also harbored a continuous mind. Individuality ended; minds melted together; thoughts wandered between them; people were mixed together. Horribly painful process. But the Fae could also assume individual forms. When they came to this new 'Multiverse', they found they could not interact with it without doing so. But, when they did that- well, it was like trying to fit the square block in the circle hole. There was just too much of them for our state of existence to handle. Not necessarily too much Fae, it was just arranged all wrong. And so, in order to come here and walk around, the Fae had to rearrange themselves; they did this by splitting themselves in three. Two forms from every Fae were born; two halves, two opposite forces, completely counter to each other. These were called 'avatars'. The third, their pure essence, was a perfect balance between the two, but significantly weaker than the other parts. The avatars were independent, as if they were two living beings bound by a shared psychic bond to the third. In this shape, the Fae came to our world, so as to destroy it. But then that nasty 'free will' kicked in.

The Fae that came here decided they rather liked it. And so they stayed, had children with the locals, grew a new society; a society called 'the Ancients'. The old gods. Alongside the Ancients was born a new race, native to Earth - the human race. And so they lived happily together.

That is, until they were discovered by the old Fae, the True Fae. The True Fae had grown bitter in their exile. Savage. Primal. They did not like the cultured Ancients; they only liked blood and war. And so that's what they brought to Earth.

There was one Ancient here, on this Earth. He was the youngest of them all - a Fae descendant, just like the rest. Such a smart boy. Such a nice boy. At least, at first. When the Fae came, he saw an opportunity; or, part of him did. The other saw horror. There was a bit of a spat. Either way, the boy ended up swearing his allegiance to the Fae; and now they call him king."
Last edited by Nationstatelandsville on Sat Jun 14, 2014 11:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

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Nightkill the Emperor
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Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sat Jun 14, 2014 11:20 pm

"Fuck off." growled Richard at Oberon, Oberon's sword clanging against Richard's broomstick. Richard stepped back a few feet, twirling his broomstick, facing his helmeted enemy.

"Elegant as ever, Richard." deadpanned Oberon, blue energy charging in his hands. "Does this fight never just tire you? Just calm yourself and give in."

"You can calm your tits. And fuck off." with a yell, Richard deflected Oberon's energy blast back at him, the broom blasting it back at the Faery King.


Crowley listened patiently to this origin story. "Alright. Accepting that this is true, which it may as well be, I have questions still. Why are you telling me this now? What particular event is happening that means this is more important immediately than the invasion of Heaven? These events happened long, long ago. Secondly, who the fuck are you, American?"
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Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

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Nationstatelandsville
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Posts: 70969
Founded: Apr 27, 2011
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Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Jun 15, 2014 5:45 am

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:Crowley listened patiently to this origin story. "Alright. Accepting that this is true, which it may as well be, I have questions still. Why are you telling me this now? What particular event is happening that means this is more important immediately than the invasion of Heaven? These events happened long, long ago. Secondly, who the fuck are you, American?"

"I tell you this now," he said, "because it will soon be very relevant. As to who I am?"

His smile continued, though Crowley knew enough smiling people by now to see the spark of anger underneath.

"I am a servant," he said, "but a bit more rebellious than most. A servant of a man I call 'G' - but you call him 'Ganesh'. And my master has fucked up."

He tilted his head, examining Crowley intently.

"Do you believe in boogeymen, Aleister Crowley? Well, I assume you do. It's only safe in this line-of-work. Ganesh believes in boogeymen too; his boogeymen are the Fae. Oberon knows this earth. Oberon loathes this earth. Ganesh knew he would come back to it one day, so he saw fit to protect it; his methodology, perhaps, was a bit unorthodox. 'Unorthodox' here being a synonym for 'dumbass'. Ganesh offered them a deal - in exchange for the continued protection of this world, he would orchestrate 'games' for the Fae to watch. Stories! Kidnappings. Ordinary people forced to fight monsters and find grails and etc. These games stopped when the truth came out; I'd argue these games were responsible. Do you remember what happened in Las Vegas on Christmas, some-twenty years ago? Sorry about that.

Ganesh recruited me from one of those games as his personal assistant; an office, obviously, with quite a bit of free time, given how much of a control freak he is. I didn't trust Ganesh, still don't, so I used that time to spy on him. I found out about his deal with these 'Dark Ones', as we knew them, but more importantly I found out something else; the Fae weren't watching these stories. They were using this time to build their army. Their army is built. Oberon is impatient.

Not long ago now, Ganesh approached Oberon with one last frantic deal, his sanity torn to shreds; in exchange for leaving Earth be, he would end it himself, or very effectively so. The Fae took his deal, but they don't keep their word. Ganesh then used your students to gather as many magical artifacts to build the power to break down a very old jail cell and release unto the world the very first boogeyman - Kronos."
Last edited by Nationstatelandsville on Sun Jun 15, 2014 5:50 am, edited 2 times in total.
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

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Nude East Ireland
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Posts: 17308
Founded: Dec 31, 2011
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Postby Nude East Ireland » Sun Jun 15, 2014 12:27 pm

Damien resumed his original human form, since he always quite liked that one. Lifting himself up, he grabbed his replica Excalibur and unsheathed it.

"Come on Richard," he said. "You can do better than that."

He pressed the point of the sword's blade against the ground and ran at Oberon, creating sparks as he did. When he reached the Fae King, he swept the sword upwards at Oberon's chest.
Part One of the Incredible, Invincible Team Dai-Zarkeland!

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Agritum
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Founded: May 09, 2011
Anarchy

Postby Agritum » Sun Jun 15, 2014 12:36 pm

Gwen, who was positioned right next to Lyra and Lukas, was visibly disturbed by Oberon's presence. The queen had been fighting his Fae minions for centuries, and after so many close calls and deadly encounters with those nefarious beings, she really didn't want to come face to face with their own king. The macabre death suffered by old Caspian at the hands of Oberon confirmed all her fears.

Lyra, who was closer to her, would have perceived the queen's anxiety pretty well. Gwen's hands trembled, her feet slightly shuffled, sweat began to fall off her brow, and her almost eternal frown began to break and re-form into a grin of fear.

Gwen's eyes tensely followed the battle between Richard and the Fae King, twitching whenever the latter swung his magical energy against EH's former janitor, who was apparently capable of fighting the King on an even ground, even if armed with a mere broomstick. And it was there that Gwen suddenly had a small but good idea.

"Hey! Do you need a better weapon?" she yelled to Richard, swaying APS Excalibur in the air.

Nationstatelandsville wrote:William and the angel collided; the angel was pretty thoroughly dead before it even hit the ground.

But this is the thing with launching something at light-speed; as per the laws of energy, it builds up quite a bit of kinetic energy. This kinetic energy, ultimately, is what killed the seraph. Being hit with a human being at the speed of light is more or less equivalent to being smacked in the face with a brick, assuming said brick weighed as much as the Sun.

Another law of energy is Newton's third; which most know in the terms of "any action releases an equal and opposite reaction". In other words, when hitting an angel with a brick as heavy as the Sun, there is quite a bit of recoil flying back into your arm. kinetic energy redirected. This is especially painful when the brick is you.

By all means, then, William was dead too; but a certain magical aura dubbed by some as "protagonist-centered immortality" prevented his death. Instead, he was simply a shattered, splintered wreck of a man without a single unbroken bone in his body and a few organs reduced to pulp. For his part, Aziraphale teleported William back to the ground, rather than let him fall.

"You're a dumbass," the angel sighed.

"Worth it," Lewis said.

"You'll need a healer," Aziraphale concluded. It was, really, quite obvious.

Hilde suddenly ran up to William, diving on him and most likely dislocating the few sane bones he still ever had. That wouldn't have mattered by much, given that the Teutonic homuncula quickly wrapped him in an hug and began to work her high level healing magic.

"Oh, Willie, stop being so careless! First of all, who will bring money back home if you die? And who will educate our son into the Humano-centric ways of Yorkshire? And what will I do, with no one to get angry at?" she whined in his ear, thightening the healing embrace, accidentally maximizing the pain of the healing process.

"PLEASE DON'T DIE ON ME VILLIAM!"

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Nationstatelandsville wrote:Calliel's attempts were quite a failure, due to the ophan's vast heat; merely, it continued to fly closer, lighting the very air ablaze.

Calliel blinked. He didn't expect that.

Therefore, his other solution was to pull out a handgun and try to shoot the damn thing to death.

Catholic doctrine puts heavy emphasis on charity, helping those in need and the weak, just like Jesus did.

However, rather than distributing bread loafs and fishes, Grace preferred to extract a Javelin anti-tank rocket launcher from a nearby ISSR briefcase and use it's aiming system to target the Ophan's eyes and shoot rockets towards them, in an effort to provide support to Calliel.

The Javelin's rockets flew up in the sky, only to start descending on the ring creature.
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Nightkill the Emperor
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Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Jun 15, 2014 3:13 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:Crowley listened patiently to this origin story. "Alright. Accepting that this is true, which it may as well be, I have questions still. Why are you telling me this now? What particular event is happening that means this is more important immediately than the invasion of Heaven? These events happened long, long ago. Secondly, who the fuck are you, American?"

"I tell you this now," he said, "because it will soon be very relevant. As to who I am?"

His smile continued, though Crowley knew enough smiling people by now to see the spark of anger underneath.

"I am a servant," he said, "but a bit more rebellious than most. A servant of a man I call 'G' - but you call him 'Ganesh'. And my master has fucked up."

He tilted his head, examining Crowley intently.

"Do you believe in boogeymen, Aleister Crowley? Well, I assume you do. It's only safe in this line-of-work. Ganesh believes in boogeymen too; his boogeymen are the Fae. Oberon knows this earth. Oberon loathes this earth. Ganesh knew he would come back to it one day, so he saw fit to protect it; his methodology, perhaps, was a bit unorthodox. 'Unorthodox' here being a synonym for 'dumbass'. Ganesh offered them a deal - in exchange for the continued protection of this world, he would orchestrate 'games' for the Fae to watch. Stories! Kidnappings. Ordinary people forced to fight monsters and find grails and etc. These games stopped when the truth came out; I'd argue these games were responsible. Do you remember what happened in Las Vegas on Christmas, some-twenty years ago? Sorry about that.

Ganesh recruited me from one of those games as his personal assistant; an office, obviously, with quite a bit of free time, given how much of a control freak he is. I didn't trust Ganesh, still don't, so I used that time to spy on him. I found out about his deal with these 'Dark Ones', as we knew them, but more importantly I found out something else; the Fae weren't watching these stories. They were using this time to build their army. Their army is built. Oberon is impatient.

Not long ago now, Ganesh approached Oberon with one last frantic deal, his sanity torn to shreds; in exchange for leaving Earth be, he would end it himself, or very effectively so. The Fae took his deal, but they don't keep their word. Ganesh then used your students to gather as many magical artifacts to build the power to break down a very old jail cell and release unto the world the very first boogeyman - Kronos."

Crowley listened to this. "Ganesh, you fucking cunt." muttered Crowley, facepalming. "Alright then." He glanced up at the man. "It's time for me to wake up. Thank you for informing me of all this. I think I have things I need to do now. Now, I have a final question. How does Uriel relate to all this, if he does at all?"
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

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Nightkill the Emperor
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Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Jun 15, 2014 3:16 pm

Agritum wrote:Gwen, who was positioned right next to Lyra and Lukas, was visibly disturbed by Oberon's presence. The queen had been fighting his Fae minions for centuries, and after so many close calls and deadly encounters with those nefarious beings, she really didn't want to come face to face with their own king. The macabre death suffered by old Caspian at the hands of Oberon confirmed all her fears.

Lyra, who was closer to her, would have perceived the queen's anxiety pretty well. Gwen's hands trembled, her feet slightly shuffled, sweat began to fall off her brow, and her almost eternal frown began to break and re-form into a grin of fear.

Gwen's eyes tensely followed the battle between Richard and the Fae King, twitching whenever the latter swung his magical energy against EH's former janitor, who was apparently capable of fighting the King on an even ground, even if armed with a mere broomstick. And it was there that Gwen suddenly had a small but good idea.

"Hey! Do you need a better weapon?" she yelled to Richard, swaying APS Excalibur in the air.

"The broomstick will do, dear." barked Richard, keeping an eye on Oberon. "You do me a favour and see if you can attack him from long range."

Oberon growled, making the effort to run at Gwen, but was hit in the face by Richard's broomstick, keeping him from getting too close to any of the protagonists.

Merlin's Gotterdammerung counter kept increasing.
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

User avatar
Agritum
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 22143
Founded: May 09, 2011
Anarchy

Postby Agritum » Sun Jun 15, 2014 3:26 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Agritum wrote:Gwen, who was positioned right next to Lyra and Lukas, was visibly disturbed by Oberon's presence. The queen had been fighting his Fae minions for centuries, and after so many close calls and deadly encounters with those nefarious beings, she really didn't want to come face to face with their own king. The macabre death suffered by old Caspian at the hands of Oberon confirmed all her fears.

Lyra, who was closer to her, would have perceived the queen's anxiety pretty well. Gwen's hands trembled, her feet slightly shuffled, sweat began to fall off her brow, and her almost eternal frown began to break and re-form into a grin of fear.

Gwen's eyes tensely followed the battle between Richard and the Fae King, twitching whenever the latter swung his magical energy against EH's former janitor, who was apparently capable of fighting the King on an even ground, even if armed with a mere broomstick. And it was there that Gwen suddenly had a small but good idea.

"Hey! Do you need a better weapon?" she yelled to Richard, swaying APS Excalibur in the air.

"The broomstick will do, dear." barked Richard, keeping an eye on Oberon. "You do me a favour and see if you can attack him from long range."

Oberon growled, making the effort to run at Gwen, but was hit in the face by Richard's broomstick, keeping him from getting too close to any of the protagonists.

Merlin's Gotterdammerung counter kept increasing.

"Aye, aye!" replied Gwen, while pointing Excalibur towards the Fae King, with a newfound courage.

The sword glowed for a few seconds, making that sound effect used in a myriad of sci-fi films when a superweapon is about to be charged. When said sound hit its crescendo, Excalibur began to shoot a car-sized golden beam at Oberon every few seconds, each of them generating enough recoil to push back Gwen at every shot.

The queen eventually hit the nearby wall with her back, while continuing to shoot at Oberon.
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Nationstatelandsville
Khan of Spam
 
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Founded: Apr 27, 2011
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Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Jun 15, 2014 4:20 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:Crowley listened to this. "Ganesh, you fucking cunt." muttered Crowley, facepalming. "Alright then." He glanced up at the man. "It's time for me to wake up. Thank you for informing me of all this. I think I have things I need to do now. Now, I have a final question. How does Uriel relate to all this, if he does at all?"

The old man smiled.

"Some answers," he said, "I can't give you - I don't have them all myself, like I said. From what I gather is this; Oberon was not very happy over the Gotterdamerung. Now, Yahweh did not work alone; Merlin is primarily to blame, but he is dead now. I would not be altogether surprised to find the old wizard was killed by Oberon himself, but I can't say for sure. What I do know, however, is that Oberon hates Yahweh. Now, Yahweh disappeared for a bit - I was very surprised to find he was your janitor, I should mention - so Oberon wrote him off as dead, before it was even true. But now Oberon wants to take his vengeance on someone else, someone Yahweh loves; his sons. I don't know if Oberon knows about you - I would assume so - but he's consumed by hatred not just for the archangels, but for the Earth that Yahweh made. This is his destiny, his revenge; the death of your world.

Uriel is obviously quite opposed to this. Being the son of Oberon's greatest foe, he is naturally in the best position to fight Oberon - and so he has devoted his life to doing so. Do you know chess? I assume you do. This is their game."
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

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Nightkill the Emperor
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Founded: Dec 28, 2009
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Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Jun 15, 2014 4:49 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:Crowley listened to this. "Ganesh, you fucking cunt." muttered Crowley, facepalming. "Alright then." He glanced up at the man. "It's time for me to wake up. Thank you for informing me of all this. I think I have things I need to do now. Now, I have a final question. How does Uriel relate to all this, if he does at all?"

The old man smiled.

"Some answers," he said, "I can't give you - I don't have them all myself, like I said. From what I gather is this; Oberon was not very happy over the Gotterdamerung. Now, Yahweh did not work alone; Merlin is primarily to blame, but he is dead now. I would not be altogether surprised to find the old wizard was killed by Oberon himself, but I can't say for sure. What I do know, however, is that Oberon hates Yahweh. Now, Yahweh disappeared for a bit - I was very surprised to find he was your janitor, I should mention - so Oberon wrote him off as dead, before it was even true. But now Oberon wants to take his vengeance on someone else, someone Yahweh loves; his sons. I don't know if Oberon knows about you - I would assume so - but he's consumed by hatred not just for the archangels, but for the Earth that Yahweh made. This is his destiny, his revenge; the death of your world.

Uriel is obviously quite opposed to this. Being the son of Oberon's greatest foe, he is naturally in the best position to fight Oberon - and so he has devoted his life to doing so. Do you know chess? I assume you do. This is their game."

There was a long pause as Crowley mulled this over. The answer evidently did not please him. "So, Uriel's on my side?" he asked, sounding baffled. "No, no. He may be working against a common foe, but the enemy of my enemy is not necessarily my friend. He still needs to be stopped, because I doubt he's working to a good end." he looked at the man. "Are you going to run off now, or are you staying and helping?"
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

User avatar
Nationstatelandsville
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 70969
Founded: Apr 27, 2011
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Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Jun 15, 2014 5:00 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Nationstatelandsville wrote:The old man smiled.

"Some answers," he said, "I can't give you - I don't have them all myself, like I said. From what I gather is this; Oberon was not very happy over the Gotterdamerung. Now, Yahweh did not work alone; Merlin is primarily to blame, but he is dead now. I would not be altogether surprised to find the old wizard was killed by Oberon himself, but I can't say for sure. What I do know, however, is that Oberon hates Yahweh. Now, Yahweh disappeared for a bit - I was very surprised to find he was your janitor, I should mention - so Oberon wrote him off as dead, before it was even true. But now Oberon wants to take his vengeance on someone else, someone Yahweh loves; his sons. I don't know if Oberon knows about you - I would assume so - but he's consumed by hatred not just for the archangels, but for the Earth that Yahweh made. This is his destiny, his revenge; the death of your world.

Uriel is obviously quite opposed to this. Being the son of Oberon's greatest foe, he is naturally in the best position to fight Oberon - and so he has devoted his life to doing so. Do you know chess? I assume you do. This is their game."

There was a long pause as Crowley mulled this over. The answer evidently did not please him. "So, Uriel's on my side?" he asked, sounding baffled. "No, no. He may be working against a common foe, but the enemy of my enemy is not necessarily my friend. He still needs to be stopped, because I doubt he's working to a good end." he looked at the man. "Are you going to run off now, or are you staying and helping?"

The old man sighed heavily, "I thought you would say that.

One last thing; whatever you do, Aleister Crowley, remember who are you. Remember your name, and all that it stands for. And remember that those things are not necessarily the same."

And so he was gone.

Agritum wrote:Catholic doctrine puts heavy emphasis on charity, helping those in need and the weak, just like Jesus did.

However, rather than distributing bread loafs and fishes, Grace preferred to extract a Javelin anti-tank rocket launcher from a nearby ISSR briefcase and use it's aiming system to target the Ophan's eyes and shoot rockets towards them, in an effort to provide support to Calliel.

The Javelin's rockets flew up in the sky, only to start descending on the ring creature.

The ophan blew the fuck up.

"Well," Lewis said, "that makes things easier."

There was a sudden howling as the last seraph appeared behind Lewis; he jumped, dropping Fred. It blew hard into its trumpet, lightning crackling inside...

...and then it slumped over dead, a hole between its eyes. Ostrowski sighed and nudged the body with his foot; his small group of soldiers stood behind him, silent, examining the Elfen Highers with great curiosity.

"You fucked up?" he asked.

"We fucked up," Aziraphale agreed.

"It was Anton's fault!" Lewis said.

"You can't leave here," the angel said, "We're trapped by a force field."

"We'll have to tear it down, then," Ostrowski said, "Communications?"

"Not working."

"Goddamn it."
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

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Constaniana
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Constaniana » Sun Jun 15, 2014 7:36 pm

Agritum wrote:Hilde suddenly ran up to William, diving on him and most likely dislocating the few sane bones he still ever had. That wouldn't have mattered by much, given that the Teutonic homuncula quickly wrapped him in an hug and began to work her high level healing magic.

"Oh, Willie, stop being so careless! First of all, who will bring money back home if you die? And who will educate our son into the Humano-centric ways of Yorkshire? And what will I do, with no one to get angry at?" she whined in his ear, thightening the healing embrace, accidentally maximizing the pain of the healing process.

"PLEASE DON'T DIE ON ME VILLIAM!"

William hadn't expected the recoil from his laser tackle to hurt that much, but was even more unexpected was Hilde's reaction, really. He had expected the initial berating, though the use of the nickname Willie instead of dummkopf was a pleasant surprise. But what was really out of character for Hilde was everything that followed that. The knight had theorized about Hilde genuinely having a soft, nurturing side, based on observations of her when she was drunk, and some illogical degree of hope and optimism about his girlfriend's inner goodness, but actually seeing it in action completely took him by surprise. But honestly, it was nice. He might be kept up late at night some other time thinking about the unnerving fact that Excalibur and the weird A.I in his head had taken control of his body, not to mention all the other horrifying things he had seen in his short life, and every cell in his body seemed to be screaming out in pain at the moment, but at least he had someone who honestly cared about him giving him a hug. And maybe it was because he had a concussion or three, but for some reason he couldn't help think it was cute how her native accent leaked back into Hilde's voice when she got upset like this. William genuinely didn't feel a single urge to snark at the homunculus. His right arm was sufficiently healed for William to slowly bring it up to Hilde's face, gently putting his hand on her cheek. It really was nice being alive, being able to hold someone like this, even if Hilde's skin was weirdly cold.

"Don't worry Hilde, I'm not going anywhere," Sir Nilark said, his voice hoarse due to his vocal chords not yet receiving his loving nurse's sweet, sweet healing magic. "I mean, literally. My legs are broken in about fifty places." He paused, wincing and breathing in sharply. "Ach, that smarts. Broken legs, that's new. Well, I can get plaster casts and have people fawn about them, which should be fun. Do the kids still scribble things on casts?"
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Nationstatelandsville
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Ex-Nation

Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Jun 15, 2014 8:38 pm

Constaniana wrote:
Agritum wrote:Hilde suddenly ran up to William, diving on him and most likely dislocating the few sane bones he still ever had. That wouldn't have mattered by much, given that the Teutonic homuncula quickly wrapped him in an hug and began to work her high level healing magic.

"Oh, Willie, stop being so careless! First of all, who will bring money back home if you die? And who will educate our son into the Humano-centric ways of Yorkshire? And what will I do, with no one to get angry at?" she whined in his ear, thightening the healing embrace, accidentally maximizing the pain of the healing process.

"PLEASE DON'T DIE ON ME VILLIAM!"

William hadn't expected the recoil from his laser tackle to hurt that much, but was even more unexpected was Hilde's reaction, really. He had expected the initial berating, though the use of the nickname Willie instead of dummkopf was a pleasant surprise. But what was really out of character for Hilde was everything that followed that. The knight had theorized about Hilde genuinely having a soft, nurturing side, based on observations of her when she was drunk, and some illogical degree of hope and optimism about his girlfriend's inner goodness, but actually seeing it in action completely took him by surprise. But honestly, it was nice. He might be kept up late at night some other time thinking about the unnerving fact that Excalibur and the weird A.I in his head had taken control of his body, not to mention all the other horrifying things he had seen in his short life, and every cell in his body seemed to be screaming out in pain at the moment, but at least he had someone who honestly cared about him giving him a hug. And maybe it was because he had a concussion or three, but for some reason he couldn't help think it was cute how her native accent leaked back into Hilde's voice when she got upset like this. William genuinely didn't feel a single urge to snark at the homunculus. His right arm was sufficiently healed for William to slowly bring it up to Hilde's face, gently putting his hand on her cheek. It really was nice being alive, being able to hold someone like this, even if Hilde's skin was weirdly cold.

"Don't worry Hilde, I'm not going anywhere," Sir Nilark said, his voice hoarse due to his vocal chords not yet receiving his loving nurse's sweet, sweet healing magic. "I mean, literally. My legs are broken in about fifty places." He paused, wincing and breathing in sharply. "Ach, that smarts. Broken legs, that's new. Well, I can get plaster casts and have people fawn about them, which should be fun. Do the kids still scribble things on casts?"

"The boy is not terribly gifted, is he?" Ostrowski said.

"He's young and she's got tits," Lewis shrugged, "Think ye' can fix him? It won't do to have a broken bastard in the middle of the battlefield."

"Not up to us," Ostrowski said, "If all we have is the girl, all we have is the girl. No one else is coming in-"

There was a screech. Well, no, that's not entirely accurate; rather, there were several million screeches from all across the city which combined in one hellish (and very loud) screech that made Lewis seriously contemplate suicide.

"Ophanim," Aziraphale said, "and a lot of them. There's an army here."

"They're getting ready for war?" Ostrowski guessed, "This is very bad."

"No shit?" Lewis shouted.

"No, no!" Ostrowski barked, "You idiot! It's not just that, it's-"

There was a knock. Otrowski twisted around to find an exasperated looking Sanchez resting on the other side of the force field - behind him, an envoy of trucks escorting him. On the mountain peak, an army accumulated. Sanchez mouthed a few words, but none could hear him in the city.

"He can't hear us either," Ostrowski realized, "He has no idea they're here."

And then the Road disappeared beneath Sanchez's feet.
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

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Zarkenis Ultima
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Sun Jun 15, 2014 10:22 pm

Lyra, wondering what she could do to help this man who had come from out of nowhere to hold the Faery King at bay with naught but a broomstick (She wasn't familiar with him), thought of what she had seen thus far. Magical attacks didn't seem to do much against him, given that he could deflect them with ease, though maybe they'd be a bit more helpful now that he was being distracted by his melee battle with the janitor. Fire was uneffective, as Damien had made evident. Physical combat wasn't an option, not for her in any case, it seemed that Richard was holding his own but given what she'd seen Oberon do to Caspian, this was because Richard must have been incredibly powerful, not because Oberon was not. This left the artist girl with very little options to do anything to turn the tide further in their favor, if only a little, and eventually, she settled for something that she thought was the best she could do in this situation: Distraction.

Her mind made up, the girl began drawing vertiginously. From the dark corners of the rooms, from the little nooks where no one looked, from the areas drenched in shadow, chains shot forth, cold iron chains like serpents made of metal, heading for the Faery King, their only duty being to coil around him and wear him down. It was not much, she knew that, and she wasn't sure if even the iron would help much, but it was the only thing she could think of on a short notice and she figured it would be enough to distract Oberon from his fight, thus giving Richard an edge. If she was especially lucky, the sheer ammount of chains, or the iron they were made of, or perhaps their shape or some other nonesense would happen to be Oberon's weakness or at least enough to hold him down, though she doubted that.

Which was why, at the same time, the army of alien creatures she had created earlier, which I will begin shamelessly call zerglings for simple convenience, began rushing towards Oberon as well, ready to inflict any damage they could, however insignificant. That's what they were there for, after all, to die for their mistress.
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Nightkill the Emperor
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Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Mon Jun 16, 2014 7:11 pm

Nude East Ireland wrote:Damien resumed his original human form, since he always quite liked that one. Lifting himself up, he grabbed his replica Excalibur and unsheathed it.

"Come on Richard," he said. "You can do better than that."

He pressed the point of the sword's blade against the ground and ran at Oberon, creating sparks as he did. When he reached the Fae King, he swept the sword upwards at Oberon's chest.

Oberon was now hit by the sword, but appeared largely unaffected. He grabbed Damien's neck, slamming his hand through the younger man's chest. He then ripped his hand out, clutching Damien's heart in it. He threw the heart on the ground, and threw Damien away. Damien would heal, of course, as his dragon powers granted him that. But it would definitely put him out for a while, and hurt like hell.

But this, and the various other distractions had caused enough time for Merlin.

Merlin suddenly clapped his hands.

And the world fell apart.

This is not an exaggeration, or a mere expression. The world literally fell apart. Imagine, if you will, a mirror. Now imagine that this mirror has, for whatever reason, thousands or million of little squares. Now imagine that each of these squares is beginning to crack and shatter.

This is the view that would be seen by those in the room, or in this world. The world was cracking and shattering away. This would cause howls of pain from everyone present, with even Oberon kneeling to the ground, wincing. From behind these cracks, a bright white light could be seen.

Suddenly, a hand gripped them all. Lukas, or Nicholas Carry as he would later be known, grabbed the shoulders of Lyra and Gwen. "Close your eyes, cover your ears!" he shouted, but his voice was distorted, alternatively jumping from low pitch to high pitch. "tHIs ISn'T saFe." he tried to say, his voice distorting as time was passing. Around them, the world began to crack further, the light washing over them slowly. Those touched by the light felt themselves slowly start to disintegrate, heading...elsewhere. Before time ran out (insofar as they could even sense time anymore), Lukas told the same thing to Damien and any others that were from Elfen High here.

Gabriel grabbed Merlin's hand, telepathically reminding him. Get us out.

Merlin nodded, focusing on Lyra, who was from 2030. The right time then. He tried to spread a field over the rest of the protagonists, trying desperately to return them home. The majority of the Caspians had already vanished, aside from the main one that Astro wanted to use right now. They had returned to their own times and places on instinct.

Merlin succeeded. Before the pain grew too overwhelming, everyone found themselves suddenly in a familiar place. The Elfen High medical bay. They would all feel a severe headache, and quite nauseous. Vomiting was extremely likely.

As they vomited, a man in a bed started to rustle awake. Turning his head, Aleister Crowley looked at the group in puzzlement. "The fuck are you?" he then looked at one particular figure. "Damien?"
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Postby Astrolinium » Mon Jun 16, 2014 7:39 pm

Speaking of vomiting, something curious had happened in the process of the Gotterdammerung. The two minds that were one had become two again.

Caspian Lawrence, aged 39, stood looking very pale. He immediately latched onto the man next to him for support -- he'd just seen himself be brutally murdered, after all.

The man next to him happened to be Peter Altier, once more occupying a body of his own. Through a series of sheer coincidences and ironies, this body was naked and vomiting, and so did not make a very good support structure for Caspian Lawrence. This also resulted in copious amounts of vomit on the floor -- somehow, this body had appeared out of the ether on a full stomach.

Incidentally, it is interesting to note that Peter Altier had always very strongly resembled this particular Damien Seward, to the point that a casual observer would not be blamed for thinking them brothers or even twins. This was, however, the first time the two had ever been in the same room.



Meanwhile, Old Caspian tumbled out of the blackness, knife in his chest, into the year 2020, right in front of Daniel Savatar and Eldliam Nilark. He was extremely surprised to have come out here, in front of these two people who had had almost no significance to him in over 250 years of life, and for them to look so... so young. They couldn't possibly have known him yet.

He clutched his midsection, screwing his eyes shut with pain, and collapsed onto his knees. Then, gasping, he opened his eyes.

"Holy shit, " he said. "Coach Savatar? Mr. Nilark? Holy shit, you're both so... so young!"

At which point he groaned and slumped over onto his side.

After a moment of swimming in the darkness, blinking back death, Old Caspian's eyes fluttered open again, and he coughed, spitting out blood as he did so. He winced, and slowly said, "Magic... knife. Healing w-won't help me, I'm afraid." He didn't know if they'd had thoughts of healing him -- knowing these two, it really wouldn't have surprised him if they hadn't.

He laughed painfully. "If only... if only I could regenerate, the way that... that the Doctor does." Smiling, his eyes closed again, though he was still breathing a bit. His mind went back to those decades past, when he'd been watching Who with his dad.

Theodore Lawrence put an arm around his boy and said, "Just watch, son. I don't think this episode is over quite yet."

"Not dead!?" Caspian shouted excitedly. The bowl of crisps - he and his father would always put a bag of crisps into a bowl when they watched Doctor Who - was knocked onto the floor, but neither of the two watching the show really cared. Caspian's eyes were just as wide as they'd been when he'd heard the TARDIS noise. A new man? But how! Why, the Doctor had been Jon Pertwee as long as he could remember. Or had it? He knew he'd been watching the show since he was quite small, but he hadn't really gotten into it until about... 1972ish? He'd been about nine or thereabouts, and Jon Pertwee had been the Doctor back then too. As Pertwee was quite old, it was only logical to assume that he'd always been the...

Caspian jumped again. The Doctor's face had changed!


Caspian whispered, "Remember my name... I think this must be the past. You two... will be seeing more of me, I'm sure. Remember my name: Cas- Caspian Lawrence."

And then Old Caspian stopped breathing forever.
Last edited by Astrolinium on Mon Jun 16, 2014 7:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Zarkenis Ultima
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Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Mon Jun 16, 2014 8:00 pm

Once the Gotterdammerung had begun, Lyra closed her eyes and covered her ears, just as instructed, and tried to block out her sensations, focusing on a single thought and clearing out the others. It was a difficult feat to do. The cracking of the world, for some reason she couldn't and right now didn't care to understand, caused her immense pain, and pain was not something her body felt very often, given how many meatshields, or children as she called them, were with her at all times. The pain was clouding her mind, despite her efforts to ignore it.

And then, suddenly, she seemed to realize that she was no longer in a castle of glass within a cracking reality. No, now she was at Elfen High, the place where Death had picked her up from to send her to help these people in their mission. It didn't turn out to be quite as fun as she had expected, but then, given that a being that called himself Death had been the one to send her on such a task, she figured that it wasn't as unexpected.

Plopping down on the nearest stretcher, the artist girl clutched her head, her eyes closed shut in an expression of pain. "Next time a force of nature asks me if I want to go help some people who are on board of a spaceship from another world, I'll think twice." She complained.
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Nude East Ireland
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Ex-Nation

Postby Nude East Ireland » Tue Jun 17, 2014 5:54 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:As they vomited, a man in a bed started to rustle awake. Turning his head, Aleister Crowley looked at the group in puzzlement. "The fuck are you?" he then looked at one particular figure. "Damien?"

"Hey," Damien replied, waiting for himself to fully heal.

"So, um. I'm alive. I was reincarnated and I met Merlin, I fought dragons, I was eaten by a dragon. Now I am a dragon. How was your summer vacation?"
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Constaniana
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Constaniana » Tue Jun 17, 2014 8:25 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:"The boy is not terribly gifted, is he?" Ostrowski said.

"He's young and she's got tits," Lewis shrugged, "Think ye' can fix him? It won't do to have a broken bastard in the middle of the battlefield."

"Not up to us," Ostrowski said, "If all we have is the girl, all we have is the girl. No one else is coming in-"

There was a screech. Well, no, that's not entirely accurate; rather, there were several million screeches from all across the city which combined in one hellish (and very loud) screech that made Lewis seriously contemplate suicide.

"Ophanim," Aziraphale said, "and a lot of them. There's an army here."

"They're getting ready for war?" Ostrowski guessed, "This is very bad."

"No shit?" Lewis shouted.

"No, no!" Ostrowski barked, "You idiot! It's not just that, it's-"

There was a knock. Otrowski twisted around to find an exasperated looking Sanchez resting on the other side of the force field - behind him, an envoy of trucks escorting him. On the mountain peak, an army accumulated. Sanchez mouthed a few words, but none could hear him in the city.

"He can't hear us either," Ostrowski realized, "He has no idea they're here."

And then the Road disappeared beneath Sanchez's feet.

"Oh dear," William managed to remark. He hadn't seen much, due to still being quite injured, and having his eyes more naturally drawn by the gravitic force of the bosom pressed against him at the moment, but he could tell something was off. Sir Nilark felt like he was in a Star Wars film, as he had to fight the urge to say "I have a bad feeling about this."

"And another thing, Pole: I'm good-gifted. I never got coal in my stocking at Christmas. The worst gift I ever got was when my Granduncle Bertie gave me a sock with a hole in it for my third birthday, but he was always a loony. Still is, really," the knight added, obviously suffering from more than three concussions, and managing to shake a fist. William then decided to test how much further his limbs had healed, by giving Hilde's posterior a friendly pat.
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Nationstatelandsville
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Postby Nationstatelandsville » Wed Jun 18, 2014 4:00 pm

Constaniana wrote:
Nationstatelandsville wrote:"The boy is not terribly gifted, is he?" Ostrowski said.

"He's young and she's got tits," Lewis shrugged, "Think ye' can fix him? It won't do to have a broken bastard in the middle of the battlefield."

"Not up to us," Ostrowski said, "If all we have is the girl, all we have is the girl. No one else is coming in-"

There was a screech. Well, no, that's not entirely accurate; rather, there were several million screeches from all across the city which combined in one hellish (and very loud) screech that made Lewis seriously contemplate suicide.

"Ophanim," Aziraphale said, "and a lot of them. There's an army here."

"They're getting ready for war?" Ostrowski guessed, "This is very bad."

"No shit?" Lewis shouted.

"No, no!" Ostrowski barked, "You idiot! It's not just that, it's-"

There was a knock. Otrowski twisted around to find an exasperated looking Sanchez resting on the other side of the force field - behind him, an envoy of trucks escorting him. On the mountain peak, an army accumulated. Sanchez mouthed a few words, but none could hear him in the city.

"He can't hear us either," Ostrowski realized, "He has no idea they're here."

And then the Road disappeared beneath Sanchez's feet.

"Oh dear," William managed to remark. He hadn't seen much, due to still being quite injured, and having his eyes more naturally drawn by the gravitic force of the bosom pressed against him at the moment, but he could tell something was off. Sir Nilark felt like he was in a Star Wars film, as he had to fight the urge to say "I have a bad feeling about this."

"And another thing, Pole: I'm good-gifted. I never got coal in my stocking at Christmas. The worst gift I ever got was when my Granduncle Bertie gave me a sock with a hole in it for my third birthday, but he was always a loony. Still is, really," the knight added, obviously suffering from more than three concussions, and managing to shake a fist. William then decided to test how much further his limbs had healed, by giving Hilde's posterior a friendly pat.

"The boy desperately needs a medic," Aziraphale said, "You don't have one, do you?"

"We're simply an expeditionary force," Ostrowski said, "but that's hardly the priority right now! Sanchez is dead!"

It was then that the Brigadier crawled inside the city, passing through the force field without issue, just as the others had done.

"Everyone else..." he began, before wandering off, "Something is manipulating the force field. You and I were able to get in, but it was solid before."

"It was a trap," Aziraphale guessed, "An attempt to kill you before the battle began. But now you're here; you can't reach your troops anyhow."

"And so am I," Ostrowski said, "The entire leadership of the ISSR has been beheaded - Uriel is using the city as a weapon."

"He wouldn't risk his own life on such a thing," the angel said, "He isn't here."

"Probably watchin' from the city below," Lewis sighed, "but we have no way to tell anyone else that. We're stuck here, and Uriel outsmarted the whole damn army."
Last edited by Nationstatelandsville on Wed Jun 18, 2014 4:01 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

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Postby Nude East Ireland » Wed Jun 18, 2014 4:15 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Constaniana wrote:"Oh dear," William managed to remark. He hadn't seen much, due to still being quite injured, and having his eyes more naturally drawn by the gravitic force of the bosom pressed against him at the moment, but he could tell something was off. Sir Nilark felt like he was in a Star Wars film, as he had to fight the urge to say "I have a bad feeling about this."

"And another thing, Pole: I'm good-gifted. I never got coal in my stocking at Christmas. The worst gift I ever got was when my Granduncle Bertie gave me a sock with a hole in it for my third birthday, but he was always a loony. Still is, really," the knight added, obviously suffering from more than three concussions, and managing to shake a fist. William then decided to test how much further his limbs had healed, by giving Hilde's posterior a friendly pat.

"The boy desperately needs a medic," Aziraphale said, "You don't have one, do you?"

"We're simply an expeditionary force," Ostrowski said, "but that's hardly the priority right now! Sanchez is dead!"

It was then that the Brigadier crawled inside the city, passing through the force field without issue, just as the others had done.

"Everyone else..." he began, before wandering off, "Something is manipulating the force field. You and I were able to get in, but it was solid before."

"It was a trap," Aziraphale guessed, "An attempt to kill you before the battle began. But now you're here; you can't reach your troops anyhow."

"And so am I," Ostrowski said, "The entire leadership of the ISSR has been beheaded - Uriel is using the city as a weapon."

"He wouldn't risk his own life on such a thing," the angel said, "He isn't here."

"Probably watchin' from the city below," Lewis sighed, "but we have no way to tell anyone else that. We're stuck here, and Uriel outsmarted the whole damn army."

"Then what could we possibly do?" Anton asked. "We need to tell someone or get out of here somehow."

He sighed, and sat down where he previously stood. This was all a bunch of bullshit. If Anton saw Uriel, he'd punch him right in the face, he knew that for sure.
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Postby Nationstatelandsville » Wed Jun 18, 2014 4:22 pm

Nude East Ireland wrote:
Nationstatelandsville wrote:"The boy desperately needs a medic," Aziraphale said, "You don't have one, do you?"

"We're simply an expeditionary force," Ostrowski said, "but that's hardly the priority right now! Sanchez is dead!"

It was then that the Brigadier crawled inside the city, passing through the force field without issue, just as the others had done.

"Everyone else..." he began, before wandering off, "Something is manipulating the force field. You and I were able to get in, but it was solid before."

"It was a trap," Aziraphale guessed, "An attempt to kill you before the battle began. But now you're here; you can't reach your troops anyhow."

"And so am I," Ostrowski said, "The entire leadership of the ISSR has been beheaded - Uriel is using the city as a weapon."

"He wouldn't risk his own life on such a thing," the angel said, "He isn't here."

"Probably watchin' from the city below," Lewis sighed, "but we have no way to tell anyone else that. We're stuck here, and Uriel outsmarted the whole damn army."

"Then what could we possibly do?" Anton asked. "We need to tell someone or get out of here somehow."

He sighed, and sat down where he previously stood. This was all a bunch of bullshit. If Anton saw Uriel, he'd punch him right in the face, he knew that for sure.

"The army is being built inside," Ostrowski said, "We heard that sound the angel said was made by 'ophanim' - which the ISSR readings identify as a group of angels otherwise known as 'thrones' - which, based on the fact that Sanchez couldn't hear us outside of the city suggests the ophanim must be inside for us to hear them."

"Which means there has to be some way for them to get out," Aziraphale said, "to fight your army. I doubt there's a hole in the field, Uriel would never risk it."
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

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Zarkenis Ultima
P2TM RP Mentor
 
Posts: 42279
Founded: Feb 22, 2011
Democratic Socialists

Postby Zarkenis Ultima » Wed Jun 18, 2014 5:11 pm

"Then, we need to sneak through the city... And find that something..." Frederick said in between breaths as he tried to bring himself to stand despite his numb extremities, in what he thought of as the single hardest push-up in his whole life. Not entirely because he could barely feel his arms and feet, no, but also because the machine guns weren't exactly in a convenient position, though at least they offered solid support.

"Besides, if Uriel is not here, that means he cannot directly oppose us." He said after managing to stand up for a moment, before his legs gave in and he fell on his back. "We could somehow defeat or fool his army, which I'm sure would be much harder to do with Uriel himself." He continued, before making another effort to stand up.

"Stupid ophanim." He growled.

"Fuck's sake, you're making me feel numb." Ciel said, approaching from behind and offering, or rather, forcing the dragonslayer to take her shoulder for support, which helped matters somewhat, in that he was at least able to stand now. He was fairly sure the effect would wear off in no time, but so far, it was being a quite immense annoyance, and he was glad the ophan who did this was bitten to death.

"Anyway, if the army's actually being built, then maybe we can also stop that. Unless you meant that metaphorically. Fuck if I know. But whatever the case I'd say we need to move." She said to the others. "Be it escaping or killing everyone, I'd say we ought to do something already. There's a bunch of ophanim heading our way after all." She continued, before another thought came to her. "Lewis, did you say he's watching from below? Does that mean we can crash this thing into him?"
Hello! I'm a P2TM Mentor, if you need any help, send me a TG and I'll see what I can do!
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Nightkill the Emperor
Post Kaiser
 
Posts: 88776
Founded: Dec 28, 2009
Ex-Nation

Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Thu Jun 19, 2014 10:02 pm

Nude East Ireland wrote:
Nightkill the Emperor wrote:As they vomited, a man in a bed started to rustle awake. Turning his head, Aleister Crowley looked at the group in puzzlement. "The fuck are you?" he then looked at one particular figure. "Damien?"

"Hey," Damien replied, waiting for himself to fully heal.

"So, um. I'm alive. I was reincarnated and I met Merlin, I fought dragons, I was eaten by a dragon. Now I am a dragon. How was your summer vacation?"

"Summer holiday." Crowley corrected. "Well, I've had ten of them. It's 2030 now. Your story makes absolutely zero sense to me, by the way. But it's worth noting that I'm actually Lucifer."

Crowley was determined to one up Damien.

Then he looked at Lewis. The one from DH. "I'm sorry, how the fuck are you alive?"
Hi! I'm Khan, your local misanthropic Indian.
I wear teal, blue & pink for Swith.
P2TM RP Discussion Thread
If you want a good rp, read this shit.
Tiami is cool.
Nat: Night's always in some bizarre state somewhere between "intoxicated enough to kill a hair metal lead singer" and "annoying Mormon missionary sober".

Swith: It's because you're so awesome. God himself refreshes the screen before he types just to see if Nightkill has written anything while he was off somewhere else.

Monfrox wrote:
The balkens wrote:
# went there....

It's Nightkill. He's been there so long he rents out rooms to other people at a flat rate, but demands cash up front.

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Nationstatelandsville
Khan of Spam
 
Posts: 70969
Founded: Apr 27, 2011
Ex-Nation

Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sat Jun 21, 2014 11:14 am

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:
Nude East Ireland wrote:"Hey," Damien replied, waiting for himself to fully heal.

"So, um. I'm alive. I was reincarnated and I met Merlin, I fought dragons, I was eaten by a dragon. Now I am a dragon. How was your summer vacation?"

"Summer holiday." Crowley corrected. "Well, I've had ten of them. It's 2030 now. Your story makes absolutely zero sense to me, by the way. But it's worth noting that I'm actually Lucifer."

Crowley was determined to one up Damien.

Then he looked at Lewis. The one from DH. "I'm sorry, how the fuck are you alive?"

Lewis glared, "I don't know, asshole, why the fuck did ye' abandon us?"

Zarkenis Ultima wrote:"Then, we need to sneak through the city... And find that something..." Frederick said in between breaths as he tried to bring himself to stand despite his numb extremities, in what he thought of as the single hardest push-up in his whole life. Not entirely because he could barely feel his arms and feet, no, but also because the machine guns weren't exactly in a convenient position, though at least they offered solid support.

"Besides, if Uriel is not here, that means he cannot directly oppose us." He said after managing to stand up for a moment, before his legs gave in and he fell on his back. "We could somehow defeat or fool his army, which I'm sure would be much harder to do with Uriel himself." He continued, before making another effort to stand up.

"Stupid ophanim." He growled.

"Fuck's sake, you're making me feel numb." Ciel said, approaching from behind and offering, or rather, forcing the dragonslayer to take her shoulder for support, which helped matters somewhat, in that he was at least able to stand now. He was fairly sure the effect would wear off in no time, but so far, it was being a quite immense annoyance, and he was glad the ophan who did this was bitten to death.

"Anyway, if the army's actually being built, then maybe we can also stop that. Unless you meant that metaphorically. Fuck if I know. But whatever the case I'd say we need to move." She said to the others. "Be it escaping or killing everyone, I'd say we ought to do something already. There's a bunch of ophanim heading our way after all." She continued, before another thought came to her. "Lewis, did you say he's watching from below? Does that mean we can crash this thing into him?"

Lewis smirked, "I like the way ye' think."

"How could we do that?" Ostrowski said.

"We'd have to break the spells keeping it afloat," Aziraphale said, "They're runic in nature, kept somewhere secret and easily defensible. I should warn you, however, that they are ancient and powerful; I should expect tampering with them will piss off powers older than Uriel."

"Gotcha'," Lewis nodded, "I'm good at that."

"First things first," Aziraphale said, "this field must be selectively permeable. The angels need to get out somehow, and if Calliel and I cannot leave, then it is not open to the entire species. Sanchez being blocked at first and then permitted inside would suggest that someone is watching us and changing the spell at will; I doubt Uriel would trust that to anyone but himself. The question remains how he's seeing us. He must have some form of spell that can-"

Lewis casually threw his broken cane, spear-end first, over his shoulder. There was a scream, and an angel's corpse thudded to the ground.

"-or that guy," Lewis said.

"Or that guy," Aziraphale agreed.

"Where will the runes be?" Sanchez said, "We need to find them now."

"And the boy needs someone to fix him up," Lewis said.

"That is hardly priority," Sanchez replied.

"Oh? I think it is," Lewis said, "If he dies, then his bitch will probably get it in her mind to kill herself or some shit, and then we have an international crisis on our hands. Either way, Crowley's gonna' be pissed when he wakes if his favorite limey bit it."
Last edited by Nationstatelandsville on Sat Jun 21, 2014 11:14 am, edited 1 time in total.
"Then I was fertilized and grew wise;
From a word to a word I was led to a word,
From a work to a work I was led to a work."
- Odin, Hávamál 138-141, the Poetic Edda, as translated by Dan McCoy.

I enjoy meta-humor and self-deprecation. Annoying, right?

Goodbye.

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