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Voyages Elfen High: Journey to the Centre of the School

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Nationstatelandsville
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Voyages Elfen High: Journey to the Centre of the School

Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Apr 28, 2013 6:38 pm

"I don't like the title," Crowley muttered under his breath, closing Fixban's folder and handing it back to him.

"You think of something," Fixban ordered. Crowley just shook his head - he hated visiting Valaran when he was working, which was all he did anymore.

"I just don't think it's a very good idea," Crowley sighed, "sending them into the school like that. There's some shit down there, Val."

"Indeed," Fixban agreed with a nod, "which is why we need to explore. Who knows what's past the settled parts? There could be untouched vampire clans wandering in cedar forests, mighty pterodactyls in virgin skies, krakens in seas not yet polluted by man..."

"Fae in twisted caverns," Crowley added.

"That's a possibility," Fixban replied, "But, one day, Aleister, this office will belong to you and you'll quickly realize that, sometimes, a man must take risks to lead. And then I'll be the one binding you to the realm of possibility."

"I'm not going."

"I'm not asking you to. You're needed here."

"And I won't take the job."

"Not yet, no. You still have much to be taught before you can teach."

"So, it's agreed then."

"It is indeed - the final frontier."

"Oh, I was talking about lunch. But, whatever."



It was June 18th, 1916 - the end of Elfen High's third school year. Graduation was yesterday, with so many - too many - funneling off into the war that afternoon, while Richard saw these even less fortunate few off on another of Fixban's games. He wasn't cut out for this shit, seeing so many youth die before their time, but he had a responsibility here.

The janitor looked about the expedition; they were all there, at least theoretically. British. Austro-Hungarians. Russians. Germans. French. Italians. Americans. Bulgarians. Japanese. Ottomans. All the goddamn fools who marched to their deaths and those they dragged with them. It was called the Great War for a reason.

In a way, Richard wished these students and staff, these innocent adventurers, had gone to the Somme - Richard knew what was there, at least. He knew a lot of things, but he knew nothing about this school.

The only thing he did know was that they had no business mucking about in the innards of a dragon.

"Welcome, brave members of the-" he began, before audibly groaning, "Corps of Inner Discovery. I am, as most of you know, Richard, the custodian. I'm here to point you in the right direction."

He stabbed a finger at the exit from the school's sprawling gymnasium (every high school gymnasium times a thousand) - the border of Fixban's Elfen High and the perverted wild-lands of an untamed cadaver. There had been some exploration beforehand, but nothing as deep as the Corps was meant to go.

"You will be gone an estimated of six months," Richard continued, "In that time, you are to record every single thing. You will keep going into the school until you can no longer feasibly go further and return to the school without excessive casualties. You're no use to us dead. Bear in mind, you will not receive any aid, magical or otherwise, from any outsider. You will not be able to communicate with us in any way; this school is a deep thing, a dark thing, magic doesn't work right. You must resolve any conflict and save any lives on your own. If you are going to die, try to die close enough that we can loot your corpses.

Your expedition will be lead by Colonel Franklin Rosalind..."

The Colonel, a quintessential British man reluctantly leaving "second youth" as he called it (middle age for us savages) quite soon stepped forward, dressed modestly (for him) in a dark brown coat/trousers set, with a white under-shirt, a loosely-tied red cravat, and a black stetson (a gift from an American friend) a top his head. He carried a flintlock pistol and a sputtering gas lantern that provided light for this uncivilized region of the school.

"...who I trust will only treat you with the kindest of eccentricities," Richard added dryly, "Questions?"
"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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Postby Nightkill the Emperor » Sun Apr 28, 2013 6:59 pm

An Indian pokes his head in, writes the words "I'm watching" on the wall and leaves.
Last edited by Nightkill the Emperor on Sun Apr 28, 2013 6:59 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Apr 28, 2013 7:03 pm

Nightkill the Emperor wrote:An Indian pokes his head in, writes the words "I'm watching" on the wall and leaves.

"Poles," his American friend says, "you scare the fuck out of me."
"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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Postby Astrolinium » Sun Apr 28, 2013 7:04 pm

2030
Astrolinium wrote:Somehow, Caspian thought, 'Rache. What a silly name - all it does is make me think of Sherlock Holmes, which distracts from the work of fiction that we are currently a part o-

And then he disappeared into the swirling maelstrom of space and time.


Condunum wrote:"FUCKING PLANTS," shouted Jacob, loud enough that he could probably be heard by Caspian where he was.


Caspian could not, in fact, hear Jacob. He was nowhere and nowhen and nothing. No sensation, no thought, no breath as time and space swirled around him, propelling him nowhere and everywhere. All that was, is, had been, could be, must be, they all danced before his unseeing eyes as he died and was reborn a thousand thousand thousand thousand times. Every atom in his body was smashed, creating unknowable nuclear explosions in the fabric of the unrelenting impregnable nothingness. He was conscious of whole universes forming around him only to be undone as sand poured up and down and sideways in the crystalline hourglass of creation. He was going, he was gone, he was right here, he was already passed last Saturday. Stars faded and galaxies combusted with the light of a quadrillion suns swimming through dark matter in a perfectly synchronized choreography. Dimensions of time and space unfolded behind him and all was inconsequential. He ascended, higher, higher, climbing constantly and unrelentingly higher, towards the light that was as dark as the deepest sins of the most primordial places. He became a being of pure energy, and of pure light. He was all-knowing, all-seeing, and totally blind and unsensing. He was and he had never been. Everything that was undied and then festered as it blossomed with the undying flame. He floated upon and above and beneath and within the undying seas of death and life and regeneration, and he did not age. He screamed and everything came out silently. But slowly, slowly, slowly, everything faded a faded away.......

1915
Caspian's eyes shot open and he fell over onto his side.

"Oh my god," he said, sitting up.

"When am I? What year is it?"

1916
There was a boy in the crowd. An English boy. He wore boots and trousers - brown ones, both. The trousers were held up by red braces, and under the braces he wore a white dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. There was a floppy hat on his head, and it was a rather silly one, not unlike the one that the Fourth Doctor would wear on occasion in some 60 years' time. Also, a black bow tie. Of course, not a single soul understood these references. Not yet.

Caspian Lawrence raised his hand and said, "Will we be receiving any weapons?"
Last edited by Astrolinium on Sun Apr 28, 2013 7:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Nude East Ireland
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Postby Nude East Ireland » Sun Apr 28, 2013 7:38 pm

Four months ago
Somewhere in Oregon


"Hey blood breath."

The vampire turned around, its eyes fixing onto the British man.

"Bite into this."

BANG

The vampire's face was hit by the full force of the blast, throwing the lifeless body onto its back, sprawled onto the floor. The Brit smirked, resting his trusty double-barrel shotgun on his shoulder. His name was Dr. John Seward, but he preferred "Jack". He was on a business trip, and was negotiating a deal with a weapon company based out of Seattle. But he had also been tracking a vampire clan to the wilds of the American Northwest, and the small wooden cabin he was in had been their last hideaway. Now, the clan wouldn't be feeding off of pioneers and woodsmen.

He leaned against a wall, and sighed.

"Master Seward," a Cockney Brit said. Said Cockney Brit was Chauncey, Jack's faithful manservant.

"Yeah?" Jack replied.

"Well," Chauncey began, stepping over a few corpses. "You've got a message from Dover. Our old friends Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fixban are nearing graduation. Perhaps you should head over to Elfen High for that."

Jack thought for a moment. "You mean Aleister Crowley, the guy who conned me out of that airship in Mexico? Or Aleister Crowley, the guy who helped me kill the Kraken escaped from Hell?"

"The latter, Master Seward."

"Ah, alright. I suppose I can go." He looked around. "Maybe we should clean up this mess."




Jack opened the door to Crowley's office, because screw the OP.

"Hey Al," Jack said, smiling. "Just wanted to stop in. That was a nice light show yesterday. Too bad that ambassador had to die."
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Nationstatelandsville
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Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Apr 28, 2013 7:52 pm

Nude East Ireland wrote:Four months ago
Somewhere in Oregon


"Hey blood breath."

The vampire turned around, its eyes fixing onto the British man.

"Bite into this."

BANG

The vampire's face was hit by the full force of the blast, throwing the lifeless body onto its back, sprawled onto the floor. The Brit smirked, resting his trusty double-barrel shotgun on his shoulder. His name was Dr. John Seward, but he preferred "Jack". He was on a business trip, and was negotiating a deal with a weapon company based out of Seattle. But he had also been tracking a vampire clan to the wilds of the American Northwest, and the small wooden cabin he was in had been their last hideaway. Now, the clan wouldn't be feeding off of pioneers and woodsmen.

He leaned against a wall, and sighed.

"Master Seward," a Cockney Brit said. Said Cockney Brit was Chauncey, Jack's faithful manservant.

"Yeah?" Jack replied.

"Well," Chauncey began, stepping over a few corpses. "You've got a message from Dover. Our old friends Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fixban are nearing graduation. Perhaps you should head over to Elfen High for that."

Jack thought for a moment. "You mean Aleister Crowley, the guy who conned me out of that airship in Mexico? Or Aleister Crowley, the guy who helped me kill the Kraken escaped from Hell?"

"The latter, Master Seward."

"Ah, alright. I suppose I can go." He looked around. "Maybe we should clean up this mess."




Jack opened the door to Crowley's office, because screw the OP.

"Hey Al," Jack said, smiling. "Just wanted to stop in. That was a nice light show yesterday. Too bad that ambassador had to die."

Jack blinked and found himself in the gymnasium, the image of a completely naked Crowley dancing to Journey about sixty years too early seared into his cornea forever.

"Mr. Seward," said Richard, nodding at the vampire hunter, "I am so, so sorry for that."

"Sorry is for pussies and Africans, my friend!" Colonel Rosalind guffawed, smacking Richard on the back aggressively. He turned to look at his party and tipped his hat.

"Gentlemen!" he shouted, "Welcome to the first day of the rest of your lives! I am Colonel Franklin Rosalind, Her Majesty's loyal servant, and I am ripe for adventure!"

He smiled, sending the sharp points of his white mustache pointing up. His features twisted up like an imperialistic Santa Claus with whiskey breath - in other words, the actual Santa Claus.

"From this day on," he continued, booming like he was constantly speaking into a microphone, "we are brothers! We sleep together! We eat together! We kill together! We discover together! We are now brothers! I believe it was King James who said - 'we band of brothers! We happy few! Fuck the French!' And, my gay brothers, fuck the French!"
"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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Postby Nude East Ireland » Sun Apr 28, 2013 7:55 pm

Nationstatelandsville wrote:
Nude East Ireland wrote:Four months ago
Somewhere in Oregon


"Hey blood breath."

The vampire turned around, its eyes fixing onto the British man.

"Bite into this."

BANG

The vampire's face was hit by the full force of the blast, throwing the lifeless body onto its back, sprawled onto the floor. The Brit smirked, resting his trusty double-barrel shotgun on his shoulder. His name was Dr. John Seward, but he preferred "Jack". He was on a business trip, and was negotiating a deal with a weapon company based out of Seattle. But he had also been tracking a vampire clan to the wilds of the American Northwest, and the small wooden cabin he was in had been their last hideaway. Now, the clan wouldn't be feeding off of pioneers and woodsmen.

He leaned against a wall, and sighed.

"Master Seward," a Cockney Brit said. Said Cockney Brit was Chauncey, Jack's faithful manservant.

"Yeah?" Jack replied.

"Well," Chauncey began, stepping over a few corpses. "You've got a message from Dover. Our old friends Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fixban are nearing graduation. Perhaps you should head over to Elfen High for that."

Jack thought for a moment. "You mean Aleister Crowley, the guy who conned me out of that airship in Mexico? Or Aleister Crowley, the guy who helped me kill the Kraken escaped from Hell?"

"The latter, Master Seward."

"Ah, alright. I suppose I can go." He looked around. "Maybe we should clean up this mess."




Jack opened the door to Crowley's office, because screw the OP.

"Hey Al," Jack said, smiling. "Just wanted to stop in. That was a nice light show yesterday. Too bad that ambassador had to die."

Jack blinked and found himself in the gymnasium, the image of a completely naked Crowley dancing to Journey about sixty years too early seared into his cornea forever.

"Mr. Seward," said Richard, nodding at the vampire hunter, "I am so, so sorry for that."

"Sorry is for pussies and Africans, my friend!" Colonel Rosalind guffawed, smacking Richard on the back aggressively. He turned to look at his party and tipped his hat.

"Gentlemen!" he shouted, "Welcome to the first day of the rest of your lives! I am Colonel Franklin Rosalind, Her Majesty's loyal servant, and I am ripe for adventure!"

He smiled, sending the sharp points of his white mustache pointing up. His features twisted up like an imperialistic Santa Claus with whiskey breath - in other words, the actual Santa Claus.

"From this day on," he continued, booming like he was constantly speaking into a microphone, "we are brothers! We sleep together! We eat together! We kill together! We discover together! We are now brothers! I believe it was King James who said - 'we band of brothers! We happy few! Fuck the French!' And, my gay brothers, fuck the French!"

"I didn't come for this homosexual shit," Jack said to Richard.

He held open his coat and pulled out his double-barrel shotgun. "But as long as nobody tries to make a move on me, I'll go for some adventure."
Part One of the Incredible, Invincible Team Dai-Zarkeland!

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Astrolinium
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Postby Astrolinium » Sun Apr 28, 2013 7:57 pm

Caspian grinned, turned to Jack, and said, "My, what a large and phallic weapon you were hiding in your clothing, sir. Has Freud been born yet?"
✡ וישבו איש תחת גפנו ותחת תאנתו ואין מחריד כי־פי יי צבאות דבר ✡
The Sublime Island Kingdom of Astrolinium
Ilia Franchisco Attore, King Attorio Maldive III
North Carolina | NSIndex Page | Embassies
Pop: 3,082 | Tech: MT | DEFCON: 5-4-3-2-1
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Postby Nationstatelandsville » Sun Apr 28, 2013 8:00 pm

Astrolinium wrote:Caspian grinned, turned to Jack, and said, "My, what a large and phallic weapon you were hiding in your clothing, sir. Has Freud been born yet?"

"Is that a Sikh name?" the Colonel asked inquisitively, "That sounds like a Sikh name. The Sikth love me! And they show their love with BULLETS!"

His laughing became even more rapturous and triumphant.

"I LOVE that!" he said, "A Sikh once shot me in the foot and called me a 'shitty commander'. HA-HA! Such jokers, Sikhs."
"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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Postby Constaniana » Mon May 13, 2013 7:29 pm

Catherine discreetly rolled her eyes as the Colonel rambled on about the "love" he received from Sikhs. The young woman didn't have anything to say, preferring to quietly stand by herself. She felt a bit nervous about how soon she would actually be going on the expedition. Catherine wondered to herself if she could try backing out of it now but she imagined she could hardly live with the shame of it. Besides, there wasn't really anything for her outside the school's halls.
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