As you approach the Castle, you see a gaggle of men ahead with smart hats and suits on, looking around like hungry hawks. It's the press corps.They've cut you off, and they have your scent. >Distract them with another victim, not of your crew!>Go in full throttle. That should keep them off your back!>The hunter... must become the hunted.
>>19475910Go in full throttle. It's time.
>>19475910>Go in full throttle. That should keep them off your back!GOTTA GO FAST
>The hunter... must become the hunted.We shall make the REAL Chuck Yeager proud.
In b4 panzer
>The hunter... must become the hunted.
>>19475910> hunter becomes huntedHow is this even a choice.
>>19475910It's the press. Lets soak up that attention. Promise them an interview after the ceremony...and then make ourselves scarce.
>>19475910Let's just give them their damn interview
in after panzer
FULL THROTTLE BOUNCE LIKE TENPINS IN A GAME OF BILLIARDS FULLBACK HALFBACK SLIDETACKLE OWN GOALGo in Hispanos a-blazing, and do an aileron-roll
>>19475910>Go in full throttle. That should keep them off your back!
RUN LUKE RUN
>>19475910>The hunter... must become the hunted.
>>19475910>>The hunter... must become the hunted.
>>19475910time to go fast>damn the torpedoes (and cameras), full speed ahead>>19475920i'd criticize if all of my writing for the last 8 years hadn't been exercises in historical analysis aka not good for storytelling formats
Full throttle MAXIMUM OVERTROLL mode
>Go in full throttle. That should keep them off your back!
>>19475910we're still one Irish short of a crew, gotta find radioman.
Full throttle. NGAF mode.
>>19475910Six letters planefag, sixBOUNCE
We have already used DISTRACTION now we use REVERSAL OF FORTUNE. After we get Sean, only then we go FULL SPEED AHEAD
Full throttle. Carrying Miyafuji. Shield. Yes.
>>19475910[x] hunter huntedI don't even know.>CrixDude, EVERYONE had a Car City Carpet.
>>19475936>Panzer inb4 panzerswait what
The press seeks us. They must be schooled in the way of the bounce.
>Car City CarpetDAYUM that brings back memories.
>>19476011if you didnt, your parents didn't love you>>19476013zen paradox
>>19475910Full throttle. No other options
>>19476051And if you had one and didn't give a fuck about it? I'll admit, i never really understood 'toys' as a kid.
>>19476047That it does.
>>19476062that's just because you're a vampire.
>>19476062mine was fun for a while...then my brothers and i discovered that you could make swords out of wooden dowels, grip tape, and a few screws...and that basically occupied our attentions until my parents broke down and got us an N64 when i was like 10 (and my brothers were 7 and 5)
>>19476086>>19476047Sweet memories of times long lost. And a second degree burn to my right hand (semi-long story).
>>19476126I once ran through a hallways with my forehead on the carpet
>>19476105lazy parents, I bet they never taught you to make soapbox racers either>>19476126playing with firecrackers in bedroom atop the flammable vinyl carpet?
>>19476126Roman candle high fives?
... Maybe I was just unlucky, but as a kid, I got into a shit ton of fights, and even as an adult I get random encounters. Sometimes it's the giant dog looking like it's charging me, with the intent of eating me, sometimes it's a surly hobo who wants money I don't have, but I can't leave the house without something attempting to kill me.
>>19476152my father was gone for business 3 out of 4 weeks a month until i was like 13, so i never did learn how to make soapbox racers, you're right...wasn't allowed to play the vidya during weekdays until senior year of HS though...they thought it'd make me into a serial killer or something
>>>/soc/THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS, PLANEFAG.
>>19476168>Prepare for neighborhood roman candle war.>People getting shields and shit>Ducttape about 30 roman candles to each other and then to a 2x4>drill a cupboard handle to both ends.>rig up a makeshift fuse-few weeks later->Roman candle war begins>Mortars errywhere>Step out side with roman candle heavy bolter>Light fuse>Purge the unclean
Bet you he fucking fainted again.
>>19475910>Go in full throttle. That should keep them off your back!>>19476172I know that feel man, I am often mugged by Alien Zombie ghosts in L.A. and get into bar-fights with robot cheetahs.
Like a school of Piranha scenting blood, the reporters start to drift in your direction, informed by some supernatural, hindbrain predator's instinct. You backpeddle into the bushes with Ian and Yoshika, desperately contemplating your remaining options. You're weary and you've pushed your BOUNCE luck to its limits... and the reporter is a dangerous and wily foe, not easy trounced, especially not a pack. Your only other option is to pass it other prey, and escape while they're occupied... but you can't let Ian get bogged down either, he's got to be there for that medal ceremony, too. That leaves only one option - something so vile, so repulsive, that it chases reporters away, not the other way around. And then, as if sent grace by a merciful God, you see it.Maloney. He's standing in the side-yard of the castle, irritably puffing on a pipe so agitatedly that the smoke is leaving his mouth like little amorphous cannonballs, winging out quite a ways before losing coherence. Withdrawing into the bushes, you maneuver till the angles are right, then loudly shout:"HOLY SHIT!" The reporters and Maloney look in the same direction - bringing their gaze right to Malleroy's little shit-eating adjutant. They try to withdraw stealthily, but Maloney's own finely-honed instincts detect their attempt to flee, and he's upon them like a hobo on a baked potato.
>>19476189thats silly, you only turn into a serial killer if you play OWoD and don't get into a fetish relationship.I was the table
>>19476234This is not>>19476126Just a guy who had memories stirred by the mention of roman candles
>>19476249>He's standing in the side-yard of the castle, irritably puffing on a pipe so agitatedly that the smoke is leaving his mouth like little amorphous cannonballs, winging out quite a ways before losing coherence. Withdrawing into the bushes, you maneuver till the angles are right, then loudly shout:Hahahahaha
>>19476249Normally the enemy of our enemy would be our friend, but this we'll just watch with great interest.
>>19476168>>19476152Nothing so amazing to tell, I'm afraid. Merely a lamp alight through the night and I not noticing that its metal body was scalding hot due to the wiring coursing through it. I wished to illuminate my toys better and reached to move it. That I held it in hand for a mere 2 seconds and still received second degree burns should tell you how hot it was.I do have some pride in the fact that I did not cry, despite screaming in pain. Still, it was rather embarrassing to be rushed to the hospital on a Sunday morning.
>>19476249"The enemy of my enemy is a problem for later... But for now they might be useful"
>>19476249That's right bitch, hop on that grenade.
>>19476280if by watch you mean get the fuck outta dodge and go get all the medals
>car city carpet but depicting strike witches' landing stripsIsn't that just porn?
>>19476315Which witches landing strip are we talking here?
>>19476249>backpeddleBackpedal.>Ephyou England.why, captcha, are you a Martian sympathizer? A Red-planeter?
>>19476249can someone jog my memory...who's maloney again?
>>19476332the ones on their carpet
>>19476348reCaptcha's colour scheme is red. CONSPIRACY!!>rc: gdorvi Chief
>>19476361That asshat from S1 who wanted to replace all witches with the Warlock.
>>19476361big wing Mc pilothate
>>19476361He was the Anime's version of Mallory, and was essentially the bad guy of the first season. PF has kept him around as Mallory's aide/bootlicker.
>>19476373I wonder what he thinks about Gnomes. Actually, does he even know about them?
>>19476420Oh hey arch, why arn't you in the irc? I haven't seen you there in a while
"ASSHOLES!" Maloney shouts after them. "GOD DAMMIT! PRESS RELEASES, DAMMIT!" he shouts, brandishing a clipboard with the goods on it. "FIRST TRANSATLANTIC FLIGHT OF THE HERCULES! THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE BLOODY WELL HERE FOR!" The Official Orders of distant editors bear weight, and it slowly drags the flight of the press corps to a halt as grim duty overbears them. They begrudgingly turn as Malleroy reaches them. "Well, git on wid it," one man says glumly."... don't you need your microphones and such?""Nah, we'll just jot down a transcript and get it on the AP Wire by tomorrow," another says, not interested. You creep a little closer under cover of brush and abundant waist-high walls - hey, they actually are useful!"But..." Malleroy gapes, completely flabbergasted. "You're in the middle of an invasion of England, and the- the first flight of the fucking Hercules!? What's wrong with you people?""Can you tell us about the SHARK PLANE?" one reporter demands. "Yeah, the one shooting lightning bolts? And jumping over that flying elephant like an- an-""Electric shark!" another offers."Yeah! The jumping electric shark!" "Or what about the man who JUMPED the shark?" another asks. "Who's this bold young ace who's been selected as Tesla's trusted test-pilot and protegee?"Mallery deflates like a punctured inner tube. "Uh... I guess... I've got some things on that," he says dejectedly, fishing around on his clipboard as the press closes in.Now what?>GENERAL>Sean!>Other?
>>19476436I was. Fucking iPad.
>>19476441Retrieve Sean. Then go become decorated.
>>19476441get irish swordsman. get medals. get drunk. MC's had enough of pantsless women for one day, gay as that may sound
>>19476441Try to get Sean. Then General.And brandish a gun in the face of anything that tries to stop us. Right now it is no-bullshit time.
>>19476441We would be remiss to proceed without our trusty radar gnome.
>>19476441I want so much to pop up, but we need to get Sean. A simple, smartass comment - "Well, it wasn't that impressive. I'm sure Mr. Maloney here can tell you everything you need to know." - paired with a clap to the shoulder wouldn't be that out of line, would it?
Sean! General! Medals!
>>19476441Sean, then general
>>19476441Sean then MEDAL BUFFET
>>19476477second this, save maloney's ass and he will hopefully listen to us enough to be less of a fuckhead.just do it.
>>19475910GOTTA GO FASTNow where the fuck is Sean and the HellcowWe have Medals to grab.
>>19476500>Mallory's bootlicking right-hand-manLet the fucker rot. He's too far gone.
>>19476441Of course we gotta get Sean!>>19476463We grow ever closer to shooting lightning out of our fingertips using magic....
>>19476362Their carpets. Riiiiiight.>SEAN! GENERAL! MEDALS!
>>19476441Sean, shitfaced-drunk on the way to the general for decoration, steal his hat, comment on his over-sized ego when the hat barely fits on our head...Oh, wait... that's Erik(a) Hartmann's job...Sean, Medals, drunk somewhere in there
we should get planefag to introduce more Finnish witches so he can make em cry
>>19476500>>19476513I never said save his ass, now did I? Just make him pass or fail on his own merits. Right now, he's much too overshadowed by us and our earlier exploits.Let the man dig his own hole, don't throw him in someone else's.
>>19476545Would you her stoat?
>>19476441Gotta get Sean.
We need our third Ghostride-ateer.>Find Sean.
>>19476554Yes, would you?
>>19476594Keep it that way
>Sean it must be
>>19476441Sean!>chest-high wall jokes.>what about the man who JUMPED the shark?my sides.
>>19476554>>19476585i'm ashamed to admit that i actually looked up what a stoat was...
dont make me say those words
Thus freed of journalistic treachery and the ravenous bats that go with it, you go a-searching for your radar operator, Sean. It doesn't take you long to find him. Opting to re-enter the base through the hangar, you espy him standing in front of a Warhawk painted in desert camo - oh, that'd make it a KITTYHAWK, right? Right.Fucking Brits. Sean is standing in front of the starboard wing, examining the leading edge with what looks like amazement on his face. Next to him is a man you identify as Caldwell, just by the stupid little mustache he wears. He's smoking idly, all regulations against lit cigs in hangars be damned. Okay, so you break it. But he's far, far too close to the plane, that bastard. You approach, working up your moderate dudgeon to a high one as you cross the tarmac. "-a club or something?" Sean is asking."I dunno," Caldwell says dubiously. "I mean, that's one thing, but a goddamn sword is another.""Same diff," Sean says. "Hell, the only way we could top is is if I rode the wing and hit people with a sword!" As you draw closer, you see the section of the fighter's wing they're examining is, in fact, dented and damaged. Not critically, but not ignorable either. You slow to a halt as the two men notice you and turn. Caldwell nods to Ian, but just gives you a stony, perfectly neutral face. >Fuck him, he's still KILLER Caldwell>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect that>... but we can still give him moderate, not-too-personal amounts of shit. Just to warm him up for our company.
>>19476545>nipaThanks for reminding me. It's been years since the last time I thought of that.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDO2f_grCQs
>>19476761>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect that>... but we can still give him moderate, not-too-personal amounts of shit. Just to warm him up for our company.
>>19476761>"Hell, the only way we could top is is if I rode the wing and hit people with a sword!" IT MUST BE DONE
>>19476761We had our heart to heart (Fist to fist?) with caldwell, he's cool. and he saved whatshername
>>19476761>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect thatWe really can't.
>>19476761Either light him up with trolling - and I understand we're low on ammo there - or coldly ignore him and talk only to sean.
>>19476753I'd still her stoat
>>19476761>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect that
>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect that>... but we can still give him moderate, not-too-personal amounts of shit. Just to warm him up for our company."Like you were mowing down martian grounders? What're you getting at here?"
>>19476761Lets keep it civil, but he ain't off the hook yet.
>>19476761>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect thatHe gets a pass on our shit for today.
>>19476761>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect thatNot only that, he did it to save Wendeline. Gotta give props when they're due.
>>19476761>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect that>... but we can still give him moderate, not-too-personal amounts of shit. Just to warm him up for our company.doesn't mean we've forgot, merely that his badassery has earned him a temporary reprieve
>We need to check on wendeline
>... but we can still give him moderate, not-too-personal amounts of shit. Just to warm him up for our company.He did incidentally do us a favor back there, not enough to get out of shit completely, just enough to tone it down.
>>19476761>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect that>... but we can still give him moderate, not-too-personal amounts of shit. Just to warm him up for our company.Agreeing with everyone else, that was one ballsy move.He's still a fucking war crimes-committing asshole, though.
>>19476362>SWs' carpets depicting SWs' landing stripsLet's not go recursive porn here.
>>19476761>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect that>... but we can still give him moderate, not-too-personal amounts of shit. Just to warm him up for our company.He seems to be on the path to reform, but he's still on probationary status. Can't let him off too easy.And besides, since when to we treat anyone (other than little sisters) with straight-up niceness?
>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect that
>>19476861>>19476857I think he's still the same asshole deep down, but now he's got acceptable targets, so we can accept him better.
>He actually rammed a fucking Martian mid-air, you can't disrespect that>... but we can still give him moderate, not-too-personal amounts of shit. Just to warm him up for our company.This is the opinion of the Bentusi Exchange.
<%Inquis-Relaxing> Goddamnit. How many Russians do I have to kill until they accept defeat
>>19476895Oh man that never works out.
>>19476761"Hitting an alien with your plane requires some big brass ones. Good on you. Sean, it is time to get sparkly, come on."
>>19476877It's not just that. He pulled a very risky maneuver (ramming with a fucking plane) to save someone he was threatening to kill earlier.I wouldn't say he's had a complete change of heart just yet, but he's headed ont he right path.
>>19476935he's just tsundere
>>19476895All of them?
You lean in to examine the P-40s damaged wing more closely. He used the section of wing furthest outboard without actually using the weaker wingtip itself, and it's damn well stove in - but the goddman thing is still structurally sound. You wobble the wing a bit to confirm.The P-40 might be an old, heavy bird, but it's heavy because it has five main wing spars. FIVE. Delicate, it ain't. "Well..." you admit, straightening up. "Ramming with your aircraft was ballsy as fuck." Especially to save the Witch that he'd tried to strafe a year earlier, in a different war, but you let that stay unsaid. However courageous Caldwell has proven himself to be, however, he still has to answer for the travesties perpetuated by a crime. "Which confuses me," you say to Caldwell's stony face, "because you Brits keep on giving our perfectly good fighters piss-weak names."Caldwell sputters. "The fuck? I'm an Aussie, you damn yank!" "So you're a Brit who grew up in a land that tries to kill all sentient beings with poisonous stings instead of just drowning them or cultivating flesh-eating moss on their heads, big whoop," you say crossly. "Explain this KITTYHAWK bullshit.""Wh-""I mean we call it the WARHAWK. War. Hawk. HAWK OF WAR. But you faggots get your hands on it, it's the fucking purr-tyful plane don'cha just wanna *pet* it." "That's your complaint? Seriously?'"You're damn right!" you exclaim. "I mean, sweet FUCK, man! The A-20 Havok becomes the BOSTON. The WILDCAT is the fucking Marlet. I don't even know what a fucking Marlet IS!""It's a swallow, you ape.""Oh wow, everybody run from the terrifying swallow. Swallow THIS, you cad!"
>>19476958and so i say, infinite troll works
>>19476958>"Oh wow, everybody run from the terrifying swallow. Swallow THIS, you cad!"Bueno
>>19476958>DING DING>ROUND TWO
>>19476958>a Marlet is a swallow>themoreyouknow.jpg
>"So you're a Brit who grew up in a land that tries to kill all sentient beings with poisonous stings instead of just drowning them or cultivating flesh-eating moss on their heads, big whoop," you say crossly. "Explain this KITTYHAWK bullshit."MY SIDES.
>>19476958Ooo! Ooo! Point out how they reserved the good names like "Hurricane", "Spitfire", and "Battle" for British aircraft!
>>19476997Let's do it.
>>19476997i like your idea...also>filenamecaptain, my sides are reaching escape velocity!
>>19476997This wins by a landslide, nay, a "Kittyhawk"
>>19476997I love your style!
>>19476997Yes, we must do that.
>>19476958Must find:10 star GeneralMust get:MEDALSMust avoid:Minna, TeslaAlso, we've totally gotta leave that cupcake on Minna's desk with a note attached saying "from MC Young, I hope you enjoy this cupcake".There should be a slice taken out of the cupcake, and a cherry visibly removed.Why? Because trolling. That's why.
>>19476958".... you feel better now?" Caldwell asks placidly."No," you grump. "I've still got a bone to pick with Bader over this shit. All those goddamn big fat American plane jokes. The nerve."Caldwell draws on his cigarette and blows some smoke out placidly. "You ever heard of the Huntsman spider?" "Uhn.""Well, sit down on a shitter in Australia that's got one of them hiding under the seat, and, well, wildcats 'n warhawks just don't seem as interesting. But you can't go name a plane the 'huntsman spider.' Doesn't fit in headlines very well, you know.""What about the drop bear?" "Gives away my favorite strategy, can't have that."Fucker's cool as ice, you'll give him that. "So what's the pow-wow about?" Sean asks you and Ian. You tell him, and he snorts. "About goddamn time. I don't even know what we're being singled out for." Somewhere deeper in the hangar, you hear a terrified shriek that sounds a lot like Yoshika. "Saving a little girls life, apparently," Sean says, with a languid tone of voice that indicates his participation in the rescue has just been completed.
>>19477037add it to the bottom of the shit-to-do list. The very, very long shit-to-do list.
>>19476997Leave the "Battle" out of it. It was a sad sack of shit, and it's better left unmentioned.
By cherry removed we mean the slight pink tinge of the cherry juice from it being there, except no cherry.Disagree, no slice taken out.Optional: writing "ski" next to the cupcake.
You know, I just realized that there's something terribly wrong in this thread; Tesla's pretty boss, but the shark plane is the wrong direction to go in.Think about it: Our magic makes technological devices work as best or better than they should be able to. In the air, we can do the impossible. Planes and the witches jet legs are both insufficient.We need a jetpack and a helmet. And then it's pic related: We need to become The Rocketeer.
>>19477046Let me guess, started writing before the best answer was posted?
>>19476997This is so saved for NEXT TIME. But, to be honest, >Fairey Battle... I think we can let them alone on that one. That'd just be rubbing it in. Probably best not to remind them that they called it a fighter, either. Yeah.
>>19477057but we can't carry our hispano-suizas and use Ian's sniper-gnomage with a jetpack!
>>19477057> Implying anything Tesla makes gives a shit about our magicTesla's following his own gnome, man. you can't force the gnome. You can only do what comes naturally and let it flow. If he makes a jetpack, we get a jetpack. If he makes a rifle that shoots electric fire, Robin gets a rifle that shoots electric fire. If he makes a super-radar, well, happy birthday Sean.
>>19477046>Using my edit
>>19477046Right, get medals.>>19477047What's on our list.There's PillowfortTesting Tesla's shitMinnafags and Trudefags lerpanerpingAnd of course fighting Aliums.Did I leave out anything?
>>19477046The fucker is conveniently forgetting about the "Boomerang". God help him if we ever learn about THAT one.
>>19477084Steal ice cream from the Navy.
>>19477037Why do you want to Troll Minna? we should be trying to patch things over when she's not pissed, not trying to make her more so.
>>19477106Maybe we can push her anger so far it comes out the other side as pure calm oneness with the universe.
>>19477088Ever been hit by a proper hunting Boomerang? Shit's fucking deadly.And really, I have no doubt that pilots appreciate flying a plane that lives up to it's namesake of "Always returning home". Boomerang's a fucking brick with serious bite.
>>19477106because the cupcake thing would be relatively light-hearted. that's how MC deals with emotional trauma. save for the time his sister showed up, he's never really REALLY broken down. he either gets hammered or goes a-trollin'it makes me sad because, judging by that reaction, he really cares about robin, but we don't see much of her
>>19477084List as of the last set of threads, 5/11/12:>Ian, Sean"You are magic. Deal with it.">Minna"I would like to unfuck your emotions.">Yoshika, Lynette, Robin, Sanya, Chris"Pillow fort.">Lynette"Thank you for nose art. Also here is double bribe for no talky about the Potato chipski">Robin, Yoshika, Hartmann"Here is how to fight the Aliums. Hartmann, pls helping">Robin"Don't get raped. Don't rape anyone.">Trude, Patton, Chris"Wtf up with the hallway?">Tesla"I REQUIRE ADDITIONAL ELDRITCH HORRORS OF SCIENCE AND DEATH">MalloryContinue trolling Mallory>SanyaNeeds emotional counsellor. Also potential leads to follow up about wtf the radio signals did.>Ice CreamskiContinue not giving a fuck>Relationship fixingConnect Ian to Perriene, ensure Ian does not attach to Robin under threat of barrel rolls.Connect Sean to Sakomoto, ensure Sean does not attach to Robin under threat of barrel rolls.Do whatever lesbian fapfic waifuing the thread argues about.Or better yet, lead people on then DON'T do it, put the options up for a vote, and harvest tears.
>>19477076He makes a sphere that propels itself through the air with a wake of lightning, automatically illuminates anything airborne and moving with a weak bolt of lightning, and can fire huge fuckoff balls of homing lightning.It has 24 fully-functional large-scale Tesla coils of death, and 1 little tingly one you can plug into Perriene to make the lightning tsundere.
>>19477067inb4 next time
>>19477124>>19477106I will ONLY support this if we eat half of it first.
NEXT TIME ON STRIKE WITCHES: TESLA TROLLFACES (FOR REAL THIS TIME)STRIKE WITCHES will resume SUNDAY, same time, same place. WOOHOO. Also, I should have the updated alternate history document done by then, (I hope,) covering the ALIUM WAR from the last days of 1942 up to 1943. HANG TIGHT.
>>19477130i enjoy your words
>>19477130Ice. Cream. Raid. It will be a proper bonding activity with the Imoutos.
>>19477143damnit planefagbut, you know what...it's good to be back...looking forward to it
>>19477130>Lynette>Also here is double bribe for no talky about the Potato chipski"That's kind of a little bit irrelevant now.
>>19477130Let's see.Dealt withFucked horriblyPillowfortPillowfort + Fucked horriblyDealt withPillowfortChris, at least, can be asked at the PillowfortTESLAOngoing projectDealt withFucked horriblyDealt with WHILE fucking it horribly>>19477147BEST PLAN: Raid icecream and bring to pillowfort.
>>19477143Wow that went late. GOOD THREAD!
>>19477143>Almost midnight.>8hrs of Strikewitchan.Well, I guess you're making up for lost time.
>>19477153Plan the raid from the pillow fort. Call in Zucchini for special tactics. She's got to have some good tricks up her sleeve, I can feel it in my gut.
>>19477138Because like... we'd be aknowledging that we fucked up too sorta... and she'd be too pissed to see that but it'd be a good symbolic gesture....I'll go away now...
>>19477153We should obviously invite Tesla to the pillowfort.
ALRIGHT, BOYS! We're back in the saddle.Just three things before I begin: One, I did a slight timer, and moved the dates back. Nothing major. Two, I'm just going to say: stick with me through the slow parts. We'll be getting back to the war soon enough. And third, our dear archivalfag had to go early, so I'll be posting Demons of the Pacific tonight.Alright, without further ado, here's PBS Session #7.
>>19477184> TeslaFUCK.Meant to say patton. Fucking fuck-assed fuckers.
*December 15, 1942, the North Sea*Mackintosh gradually awoke over the span of an hour. He didn’t feel cold anymore, so his groggy brain decided that meant he had died and gone to Heaven. However, since the murmurs to his right didn’t dissolve into a feminine angelic choir in revealing togas, his brain reluctantly reappraised his condition as “alive”. The murmurs did disturb his rest some, so he latched onto them to guide him back, along with the dull ache in his empty socket. After a while, he was able to discern that one of the speakers was Adams and her Brooklyn accent. The other had a French air to it, so it was probably that witch they pulled out of the water. Lemare.“…so, I’ve got to ask: what drove you to the Navy?” asked Adams.“Wha-what?” came the slightly startled response.“You’re a witch. You could have had the pick of any branch. Why the Navy? I got shunted here by my draft officer, but you…you chose this. I can feel it.”“Well,” the French witch responded, as it sounded like she took a bite out something, “I was still helping my Mama and Papa at the family inn right after the war started, when a letter came from Paris saying that my magic would be needed in the war effort. An officer from the navy showed up at the inn first to try and recruit me. He made a good case, and I reported to Brest to join the complement of the Richelieu soon after.”
Where the FUCK is that drawfag
“Oh, I see how it is,” Adams audibly grinned. “He was a cute one, wasn’t he?”“What?! We-well…yes.”“Ha! I knew it. Isn’t that always how it is? They keep the best looking guys ashore to make a pretty face for enlistment quotas, and then stuff all the ugly ones off on the ships so they can’t spoil your dreams until it’s too late to back out.”“You wound me, Adams,” groaned Mackintosh from his bed. “Truly, you strike deep blows straight into my soul.”Adams turned on him without missing a beat. “And this asymmetrical shitbird is proof positive of this! Of all the good looking guys qualified to navigate, we get HIM stuck on the Prune Barge!”Mackintosh opened his eye and started tracking around the room looking for the source of the voices. “You’re a fine one to talk, you goddamn streetcar dodger. Makes me sick to think that we got YOU to replace O’Hare when she went off to the Lexington, Apple,” After scanning the ceiling, he finally located the two of them: sitting on the bed right next to him. “At least she was easy on the eyes!”“Puh-leeze,” said Adams dismissively. “I’ve heard the stories about ‘Crusher’ O-Hare. I’m surprised you were actually able to get a good look at her amidst all the fire and wreckage!”“Wait!” Lemare suddenly interjected. “Could you two please not fight like this right now? Not when he just so recently cheated death?”
>>19477143Oh thank god for that.
Adams laughed. “No, you’ve got it all wrong! We’re good buddies. It’s just banter between comrades in arms. We don’t mean a word of it,” She smirked. “Okay, maybe a word or two of it.”Mackintosh held up his hands as he sat up. “Whoa there. Hold the phone. Two questions: What’s this about me ‘recently cheating death’? And more importantly, where’s my eye patch?” *SPLAT* “Ow!”The CMO chuckled as he slipped the slingshot back into his desk. “I was waiting for you to rise, Sleeping Beauty. We had that washed especially for you in the captain’s laundry. Oh, by the way,” he added as he pulled a small box out of his desk and tossed it over as well. “You were awarded the Bronze Star for your act of stupidity. Don’t take this as positive reinforcement and do anything that suicidal again, you hear?”“Uh, yessir. Thank you, sir,” Mackintosh stammered as he slipped the eye patch on his head once more and examined the medal in the box . “Now, the part about me almost dying, if you would?”“You went into shock a little while after you got brought down here. You would have died, but Miss Witch there used her Blue Light of Miracles and pulled you back from the brink…and then proceeded to eat an entire roast turkey,” said the CMO.Mackintosh sat up more as Lemare let an embarrassed giggle escape her lips. “Well, thank you Miss..?”“Lemare. Georgette Lemare.”“Nicholas Mackintosh. Thanks again, Miss Lemare.”
“Georgette, please,” she responded, then giggled again. “You know, when you first got to me in the water, I was so delirious, I mistook you for a silly legend the men of my ship talked about. The ‘Cyclope de la Mer’. I guess it was just the eye patch.”Adams snapped her head around and stared at Lemare for a good five seconds before bursting out laughing. “The ‘Cyclope de la Mer’?! Oh God, that’s rich! No,” she wheezed out between rounds of laughter, “You didn’t mistake him at all! That’s him in the flesh!”Lemare and Mackintosh both directed looks of shock at Adams as she continued laughing. “Oh man, that’s a good one. I didn’t even know the French had heard about him yet!”“Yo-you mean…?” Lemare stammered.“Yep! That’s him! ‘Old One-Eye’ himself. He’s quite real. Funny, you’d expect a legend to look better.”“Wait,” said Mackintosh as Lemare appeared to turn slightly pink, “What’s this about me being a legend?”“Oh right!” exclaimed Adams. “You don’t know! Well, to put it simply: You’re seen as a Captain Ahab figure around the fleet. Yes ,yes, I know the stories they tell onboard here, but they get wilder and wilder the farther you get from the California. Well,” she paused, “at least that’s what I’ve *heard*.”Mackintosh blinked. “Are you telling me that the tall tales that I’ve heard about me aren’t limited to just this ship?”“Nope! Or did you think that sailors wouldn’t tell stories over their beers about that officer of theirs who happens to be down one eye?”
He paused. “Fuck,” sighed Mackintosh as he flopped back into his pillow. “It’s been too long a day for me to think about this now,” After a short pause, he spoke up again. “How long was I out?”“Only about 7 hours,” said Adams as she macked on a strawberry.“Damn,” He paused. “Wait, where’d you get that?”“Captain sent down a quart of fresh strawberries a while ago.”“Can I have one?”“Sorry, last one.”“Damn it,” he sighed. “Well, fuckit. Might as well find out now. Could you tell me what ‘stories’ are getting told about me amongst the French, Georgette?”“Erm, well,” she started, “They say that you’re able to strike a sailor down with hate bullets from 30 paces.”He raised an eyebrow. “’Hate Bullets’? Really?” he asked as he turned his head around.The CMO looked up from his two-month-old copy of Time. “What the hell are you staring at?”“Nope! That one’s not true,” Mackintosh sighed melodramatically. “What else have they said?” “Well,” she continued with a dramatic air, “They say the Cyclope de la Mer was in love with a beautiful witch before the war, that their love spanned oceans and nations. But alas, the Martian Invasion tore them apart despite him fighting like a madman to stop their dastardly forces! He now quests eternally in vain upon the ocean blue, trying to find her and rekindle their love,” She paused, before hastily adding “Is that one true, though?”
Mackintosh sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Short Version? No it isn’t. Longer version? Yeah, the Martian Invasion was heavily involved with us breaking it off, but I sure as Hell am not eternally questing to get her back,” he said, before mumbling under his breath “How in the hell did the FRENCH even learn about that bit? I mean, really…”Before anyone could add anything to that, the ship’s alarm system came to life sounding general quarters. Adams hopped off of Lemare’s bed and made for the door. As she tossed the empty strawberry can to the CMO, she called out over her shoulder “Okay, sit tight and stay safe you two.”The CMO rounded on Mackintosh before he could even toss the sheets over to try and get out of bed. “Ooooohh no. Your ass is staying right there in that bed. Captain’s AND Admiral’s orders. You aren’t moving until I give you the all clear.”“And what makes you think you can keep me in here, Sawbones?” Mackintosh retorted.The CMO leveled a look at Mackintosh that heavily implied the younger man had come down with terminal stupidity. “And WHERE is your battle station again, nitwit?”“Oh. Er. Right,” Mackintosh sheepishly replied.“Huh?” asked Lemare. “Where is it?”“I’m the conning officer.”“Oh. Oh!” she said as she began to chuckle. “I can see how that might be a problem.”“Yeah,” said Mackintosh as he found his companion’s laughter contagious. “Yeah. It kinda would be.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Lemare inquired after a short pause, “Why did you call Florence ‘Apple’?”“Oh that? That’s just the crew’s nickname for her,” Mackintosh replied with a shrug. “Her name is ‘Adams’, so ‘Apple’ was a natural choice. Heh,” he chuckled, “and they chose it before they even knew she was from Brooklyn, so that just makes it all the better.”“Huh? What difference would that make?”“Oh, right. You’re French. Long story short, it gently makes fun of both her name and her hometown.”“I see…”As the time went past, the two of them passed it with idle but tense conversation about their pasts. About 45 minutes after general quarters had been sounded, right as Mackintosh was about to start telling a story about when the USS Oklahoma made a trip to Spain to evacuate American citizens at the dawn of the Civil War, the ship’s alarm system came to life again.“All hands, secure from battle stations.”“That’s odd,” said Mackintosh, “the main battery never opened up. Were we just chasing ghosts?”“I do not know,” replied Lemare sadly, “but part of me is glad that we didn’t engage. Too many people have died today, and it is good that this sickbay was not needed further.”“Amen to that, sister.”
Others were not nearly as peaceful minded.“What do you mean, ‘Secure from Battle Stations’?!” roared Wright into his headset as the task force began to turn to the south. “I can see the bastards with my own two eyes! I can practically reach out and touch them! What gives?!”“Those are our orders, Mr. Wright,” coolly said the gunnery officer on the other end. “Do not open fire and disengage. I know you have objections with them, but I expect you to carry them out.”“You’re god-damned right I have objections to them! We have the fuckers, and now we’re breaking off? The United States Navy and ESPECIALLY the United States Marine Corps NEVER run away from a fight! This is bullshit!”“Second Lieutenant Wright,” said Admiral Lee calmly as his own voice came over the headset, “I understand that you have objections to the order to disengage. Now would be the time to voice them.”“Ye-ye-yessir,” stammered Wright. “I feel that it goes against the culture and traditions of the Navy to turn tail and run after making contact with the enemy.”
>>19477076Nah man, nah man, see, I think Tesla's gnome works when he's thinking about a problem that he's passionate about. Find a 1944 era comic about jetpack men and comment to him that it's too bad no one ever got one that doesn't light the pilot's ass on fire. Ask him his professional opinion, and then shoot down anything he suggests. CHALLENGE HIM.Then act surprise when he pulls you off of whatever witch you've bedded with that night to show you his prototype model. And there's that wonderful tower that we always have DRAMA on top of...
have any of the writefags been updating in Tankwitches or Subwitches?
“I feel the same way, Mr. Wright. However,” said Admiral Lee, “this has come down from upon high. Straight from Lord Mountbatten at the behest of Admiral Abrial. Disengage and carry Ms. Lemare to London, do not put her at further risk. A Royal Navy squadron is already steaming south to destroy the very enemies we are disengaging from. Now, if you have a reason that I can use to ignore a direct order from Allied High Command, I’m all ears.”“No sir, I don’t,” replied Wright softly.“I didn’t think you did. Carry out your orders as given, Lieutenant. That is all.”Wright sighed. “You heard the Admiral,” he called down to his gun crew. “Secure from battle stations.”As he secured his fire director for sea once more, he one cast one last look at the Martian ships in the distance. “Fuck. You,” he said through gritted teeth at the slowly retreating aliens.***December 17, 1942, just off the Thames Estuary*“Time?” asked Admiral Lee.“0324, sir,” responded a lookout.“ETA to the Thames Sea Buoy?” called Captain Bunkley from his chair on the bridge.“Based on the current speed being made good, about 30 minutes,” replied Mackintosh from the chart table.“Excellent. Carry on, gentlemen,” responded Admiral Lee as he walked over to the coffee pot to pour himself and the captain a cup.
>>19477277We haven't. Been bidin' our time for Planefag's return.
Mackintosh yawned as the admiral poured. The admiral and captain had been present for his entire watch, watching over his shoulder as he made his preparations for port, and it was tiring him out more than the usual 0000-0400 watch did. Which, he added to himself with a mental groan, would be even longer since it was his job to conn the ship during docking procedures as well. He was about to pinch the bridge of his nose for the 5th time that watch at the thought before a voice piped up behind him.“Excuse me, Nicholas. Forgive me, I know you’re on watch, but could you spare a minute to talk after you’re relieved?” asked Lemare, as the rest of the bridge crew suddenly started making it very clear that they were doing their jobs and nothing else.“Oh! Er, hi, Georgette. Thought you were still in sickbay. I’d be happy to talk, but we’ve got docking in London coming up soon, so I probably won’t get off watch for several hours,” replied MackintoshAs Lemare’s face fell slightly, Admiral Lee chimed in. “Oh, I don’t know about that, Mr. Mackintosh. We’ve certainly got enough men on the bridge here for you to take a break. Wouldn’t you agree, Captain?”“Oh yes,” said Captain Bunkley. “I have no issue assuming the deck for a short time while we’re still at sea. You stand relieved, Mr. Mackintosh.”“Go take a short break, you’ve earned it,” finished Admiral Lee. Even in the darkness of the bridge, Mackintosh could see the admiral making a “shoo” motion with his hand, and the giant shiteating grin on his face.“Yes sir,” he replied after a short pause.
**As the two of them stepped outside, Mackintosh suppressed a shiver.“I swear, how on Earth do you manage to manage to walk around in this cold without any pants on?”“Hmm? Oh, it’s magic. It’s a minor variation of our shields that lets us endure the elements. It’s what lets us go up without wearing a heavy leather jacket.”“Makes sense,” agreed Mackintosh as he brushed some snow off his peacoat. “So, what’s up?”“Well…” she said, before pausing. “I’ve been talking to Florence while I was in sickbay. About the Gloire. And my lost shipmates,” She pauses some more. “She said that in times like this, I should find something stalwart and hold onto it. Something that I can fall back on and have it support me.” She took a breath before continuing. “I’d like you to be that something, Nicholas.”Mackintosh blinked. “To be something special to a beautiful witch?” He chuckled. “How could I refuse?”Lemare smiled, and pecked him on the cheek. “You don’t know what it means to me to hear my hero say that. Thank you,” As she walked back towards the companionway, she turned and waved. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”Mackintosh blankly waved back and watched her go. After staring at the stairs for a few seconds more, he turned and returned to the bridge.“Soooo…was it that cold outside, Lieutenant?” sly asked Captain Bunkley as Mackintosh made his way over to the coffee pot.“Cold?” repeated Mackintosh, “Nah, it was pretty nice out there to tell you the truth,” he said with a smile on his face.
>>19477293dohohoho, PBS falls to it as well
Alright, that's it for this session. Here's the Pastebin:http://pastebin.com/tH9txyqmQuestions, comments, complaints?
“I’m counting nine on the right wing.” Lieutenant James Anders traced his fingers around one of the golfball sized holes that had been blown in the side of Hello Nurse!, Flip’s P-38L. Yesterday’s dogfight had taken its toll on the airframe- the dozens of bullet holes left by Martian fighters would likely be among the last things the ground crew would repair. Currently, most of the dozen or so mechanics and engineers were gathered around Hello Nurse!’s left engine, which had taken a Martian cannon shell late in the fight, ruining two of the Allison V-12’s cylinders. From what Anders had gathered, they were trying to figure out whether they would need to replace the entire engine- even if Castle Alexandria was much better supplied than the little FAB they’d flown out of previously, finding an entire Allison V-1710 engine would not be an easy job. “Right boom has six.” Flip called from behind him. Flip was taking the hammering he had taken pretty well, all things considered. For a lot of pilots, getting shot at was one thing, but it was usually a pretty sobering experience the first time you really got worked over- it was usually the first time a pilot realized he wasn’t invincible and untouchable and this wasn’t some comic book where the bad guys always missed. “Y’know,” one of the ground crew called out shortly, “if you’d asked we could tell you there are twenty-seven holes, five shells recovered.” It was bullet-catching math: You took the number of new holes, added the number of shells recovered from those holes, divided that number by two and you had a pretty rough idea of how many shots you had taken.“Sixteen shots…” Anders calculated.
also, is that writefag still doing that german infantryman x polish witch story? i was interested in that one
Flip had moved forward, studying a hole the central fuselage that had been a few inches and about five-degrees away from piercing the cockpit. As it were it had glanced off, still tearing a ragged gash into the aluminum. “Didn’t seem like that many at the time.” Now it was hitting him. “Don’t let it get to you. We dodge death every day.” James ducked under the engine and gave the newer pilot an encouraging slap on the shoulder. “Some days it’s a narrower miss than others.” “Yeah. Good thing you showed up when you did, though.” Flip replied absently, still staring at the hole. The kid needed to be distracted before he really it started really brewing. “Want to go take a look at that new model?” James said lightly. “I haven’t even read the damn flight manual yet.” The P-38K was in the next booth over- the booths were actually new to the airfield, since there was little space in the permanent hangers for the large fighters, the planes were stored in open-air revetments made of steel plates and stacked sandbags- they would hopefully limit the damage of bomb or explosion to only what was in that particular booth. As they rounded the corner, the K shined brightly in the Saharan sun. While the rest of the squadron’s Lightnings were painted in mottled tan and brown camouflage, the K’s skin was bare aluminum, aside from the black anti-glare paint across the top-end of the nose and the insides of the engines. “Paddle props? Didn’t think they could even fit those on a Lightning.” Flip mused, walking around. “You see any bullet holes?” He hollered at Anders, who was walking around to the left side of the aircraft.
“Not yet, after a furball like that though, there’s probably a few.” As he came around the left side of the cockpit he saw that someone had already painted new nose art on it. “Hey Flip. Looks like someone was busy last night.” On the nose was painted a rendition of a medieval knight’s helmet, complete with a single black feather streaming from its crest. “O.K.? Who’s got those initials?” Flip had ducked under the nose to join him in admiring the nose art. “Nobody in the squadron… Maybe one of the groundcrew?” The aircrew didn’t usually do this unless asked, paid and then pestered and threatened for a week or two. Going out of their way like this was out-of-character. “If it was I owe them a beer. Did you see any holes?” “Nothing on that side.” The two pilots spent the next five minutes searching the K’s skin, looking for any sign of battle damage. There was none. “Not one hole.” Anders said, amazed. “I mean… I knew I was good but…” “Lucky day?” Flip guessed. Luck was the bullet that Flip had taken that nearly went through the cockpit. This was beyond that. The Martians weren’t exactly kings of the air, but they weren’t completely incompetent. And in a dogfight that long one of them would’ve had to have gotten a shot at him. “Guess so...” Anders trailed off. He tried to think back to the dogfight the previous day but it was fuzzy. He remembered Martians firing at him, and he remembered how slow they seemed to be in tracking him. He shook his head slightly, throwing the thought from his head. “Go find this O.K., then? Whoever he was, he deserves a hell of a thank you.”
>>19477333He is, but he has a job interview in the morning, so he had to bail. Almost right before PF ended, incidentally enough. Strikerless will return on Sunday.>>19477301I know, I know. Trust me, if you manage to sit through this, you'll be rewarded. 'Tis but a lull, the best stuff is yet to come.
~*~ “You know, Genie, there’s a point where watching a guy’s guncam footage with a stopwatch and a notebook becomes creepy.” Arlene Chen was slumped over one of the ready room’s desks, bored witless. It wasn’t even her day off- her flight was pulling afternoon CAP. “We passed that point about forty-five minutes ago.” Geneveve was unphased by the comment from her bored friend and squadronmate. “Thirty-seven frames…” She did some quick arithmetic in her head. “…About one-and-a-third seconds to kill.” Writing the number down in her notebook she looked over to Arlene. “That’s less than a third the time he took to kill one two weeks ago! He’s too…” “…Good, yes, I know. You’ve been saying it all morning. ‘He’s too good…’ ‘He shouldn’t be able to fly that well…’” She looked up at her friend and rolled her eyes. “I swear, some pilot saves you a few times and you get all hot and bothered. Just ‘cause you wanna jump his bone doesn’t make him Superman or something…” Bishop gave a squeak of a choke, and her voice rose an octave or two; Chen wasn’t musically inclined. “That’s not what it is at all!” The British witch turned bright red. Chen grinned with satisfaction. “You are entirely too easy to read, sister. And, more important, too easy to get going.” Chen stood up. “Well, you can stay her and work yourself up over some pilot’s, ahem, gunnery skills. I’m going to go do something interesting- maybe I can goad one of those pilots into a boxing match…” She stated with a smirk, walking to the door. “It’s been a while since I’ve knocked someone unconscious.”
>>19477356answered both my questions in one post...fantastic. i dont doubt either one. honestly, as an /a/ denizen most of the time, SWQ and its derivatives have done more for strike witches than the original writers ever did. the more the better
~*~ James and Flip had been assured, quite firmly, that none of the ground crew had any time between patching the several dozen bullet holes in Flip’s plane to paint James’ Lightning. Further inquiry about who “O.K.” was met with a large wrench being thrown at them. “Right, so it wasn’t the ground crew, then.” Flip stated, matter-of-factly, as they entered back into Alexandria Fortress. The air temperature dropped to a comfortable seventy degrees as they made their way through the thick stone walls. Despite the often hellish heat outside, it was actually pretty cool within the Fortress itself. “None of the pilots have those initials, either.” James added. Not that any of the pilots would’ve given up their precious sleep for something like that. “Maybe it was one of the witches?” Flip questioned. James gave him a look like he was slow or something. “You show me a witch around here that doesn’t want my head.” He gave a short, rueful laugh. “You’d think saving their asses as much as we do they’d be a bit more appreciative.” “Well, James, you certainly don’t help the situation any…”
Anders shrugged. “What? I’ve got a sparkling, outgoing personality. Ain’t my fault every witch here is a neurotic, man-hating dyke.” “That’s exactly what I mean, man. You’re too stuck in your ways. You ain’t bothering to get to know any of them.” There was a hint of exasperation in Flip’s voice. “I dunno, maybe it’s because I haven’t been around the squadron as long as you guys, so I haven’t built up the same prejudices. My father was like that, y’know, always prejudiced against everyone. Blacks. Catholics. Jews.” He snorted indignantly. “Real Southern gentleman. Surprised he wasn’t in the Klan or something.” “Hey, I ain’t prejudiced. Since I’ve set foot on this base I’ve gotten nothing but shit from every witch here...” Anders was getting defensive. He didn’t like the amount of sense Flip was making. “Yeah? And did you give them anything but shit back?” Flip cocked an eyebrow. “I got the same treatment, but you know what? I was friendly anyway and now I don’t get any shit. Hell, even Chen isn’t a complete bitch to me.” He looked down the hallway to see Alexandra Koldunov approaching. “Speaking of which…” “Airman Sanders! I’ve been looking for you.” She smiled at him quickening her pace as she approached. “I was wondering if I could talk to you?” Flip smiled back at her. “Not a problem, and you don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Flip. Or Bernie.” Koldunov looked over at Anders expectantly. She meant she wanted to talk to him alone. “Hey Anders, I’ll catch up with you later…” “Yeah, sure.” Anders stuck his hands in his pocket. Damn witches were stealing his wingman, now. “I think I’m gonna go try to find that gym and see if there’s a punching bag or something to work over.”
>>19477194Why? I bet Tesla could build an awsome pillow fort with lasers and shit.Are we still going to build fort give no fucks in Minna's room/office?
~*~ Hours later, Flip found Anders sitting in his quarters, a bag of frozen peas over his left eye. “Jesus, James. Did a punching bag really kick your ass?” “Fucking. Chen.” Anders growled under the bag. “She was at the gym. Figure Five-foot oriental girl, right? I’ve got reach, I’ve got weight.” “What, did she use magic on you or something?” Flip asked, pulling up a chair from the room’s desk. “Fuck no. Some sort of fucking Chinese karate or some shit. Fuck.” Anders winced as his anger caused the left side of his face to twitch, sending a bolt of pain through his head. “How’d your day go.” “Me and Alex went to the library-“ “We have a library?” Anders interjected. “She wanted to hear all about America, and what it was like and if I’d ever been to New York or Hollywood and how she’d love to go there some day.” Flip smiled warmly at the though. “She’s real cute. She wants to take me out on a date tonight!” “Oh lucky you.” “Think I need a shower?” He was definitely excited. Bastard was on base three days and he had more luck that Anders had in the past year. Being in the middle of the desert didn’t help this dry spell. “It’s the Sahara, its hundred degrees every day. You can’t not need a shower.” Anders was annoyed. Flip either didn’t know or didn’t care.
>>19477398at this point, i feel that doing so would expose the little sisters club to either a bloodbath or a very intense make up sexytime. doesn't seem like as much of a good idea anymore...
>>19477194Aw hell naw, that cockblocking asshole can find his own pillow fort.Besides, he's currently leading a counter-attack against the martians, so I think he's a bit indisposed.
“…Wait. Did you clean your room?” He said, noticing the immaculate condition of the room. There was even a fresh vase of flowers on the night stand. “Nope. Came back after my ‘workout’ and found it this way. Desk was organized, bed was made- and it wasn’t short-sheeted so it certainly wasn’t one of the guys.” Anders flopped back onto the bed. “That’s… Actually kind of creepy. Someone came into your room and just cleaned everything?” He looked around. “You sure one of the witches isn’t like… stalking you or something?” “Pretty damn sure.” Anders answered. “I’m gonna be pissed if this eye swells shut…” “Maybe you should head over to medical? I’m sure one of the witches could heal it pretty easy…” Flip offered helpfully. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit gunshy on witches touching me for the immediate future.” Anders stated. “Well, speaking of which, I should probably go get that shower.” “Yeah, yeah…” Stared up at the ceiling from his one good eye. Well, someone had to get some good luck around here. Might as well be Flip.
>>19477404You worry too much. Beside, it'd be a good way to show her nothing has changed between us.
Alright, final show of the night: Demons of the Pacific Chapter 2, courtesy of our own good archivalfag.
>>19477429the last time we saw minna, she chuck norris'd us through a door. i feel that my worries are well justified
Demons of the Pacific Part 2: ContactFebruary 28, 1943 06:00RCAF Station Comox, Vancouver Island The tiny mess hall of Station Comox, holding only four tables, was packed. Under normal circumstances only two tables would be occupied, but now being joined by four American tank crews, it was practically unrecognizable. Scarlet walked in with her bowl of cereal and mug of coffee, scowling at the filthy barbarians daring to make so much noise in HER god damned mess. She'd already had to punch three of them in the face. Vengeance, however, could wait until her brain warmed up. Instead, she plonked down in her usual seat across from Rosie, who had already finished her breakfast and was now skimming the morning paper, and placed her face directly into her bowl. Apparently none of the other witches had arrived yet.“Rough night?”“Honestly, these Americans. It's like they don't sleep. Why are they here? And it doesn't help that Woody snores like a wolverine,” Scarlet grumbled into her bowl.“Well, you might want to hear this. Apparently the martians are starting to move into Alaska. They found a some bodies. Apparently their greatest weakness is bears.”“Dafug?” Scarlet managed to lift her head out of the bowl, face spotted with milk and pieces of cereal.“One got mauled, the other two died of starvation or something. Everyone's trying to figure out what they were doing so far inland.”“That's nice. Anything I actually care about?”“The new witch is coming in today.”“That's what I- Shit, really? Who is she?”“British. Night witch. That's all I've heard.”
“ 'bout time we got one of them. So are the boys being sent somewhere else?”“Probably. Up north, I'd say.”“Giving her an escort? It's dangerous for a girl to go out alone at night in this neighbourhood.”“I was thinking of sending Bing, actually.”“Catchy name, huh?” Scarlet stuck out a finger at Rosie.“It sounds nicer, and I do like to stay fairly casual with my subordinates.”“But seriously, sending her would be fucking retarded. Send me or Jane. Bing would be too afraid of the dark to be any use.”“Send you? At that time of night?” Rosie scoffed.“Like I said, send Jane. I've never actually seen her sleep.”“Fair enough. The new kid will go with you then and Woody will be with me.”“Remind me why you're in charge instead of me again?” Scarlet grumbled.“I look better in a suit.”“Bullshit. You've never seen me in a suit. I look damn good in one.” Their conversation continued on for almost half an hour like this before the other witches finally showed up, finally deciding that each would try on one of Rosie's suits and ask the few men on base. This got a number of cheers and whistles from the rest of the cafeteria, who had stopped to listen in. Jane, Woody and Riley brought their breakfasts to the table.Riley was the first to speak, asking the same question as she had every morning since she arrived.“So when do I get to fly.”
Rosie, who had become something of mother or older-sister to Riley, decided to answer with a simple, “Soon.”“When?'“NOW.” Scarlet shouted.“I, what? Really?”“Yup.”“I was kind of expecting you to throw me and say something about flying.”“Better. You're on patrol in, oh, say, five minutes.”“WHAT? HOW? WHY?”“Well, see we decided to mix it up a bit, what with the new witch being a flying moose and all. So Jane's gonna be joining her while you'll be with me on the morning runs.”“But that's so early!”“One must be ever vigilant in the face of the alien menace.” Scarlet punctuated the statement by nodding sagely.Letting out a distressed groan, Riley scarfed down the rest of her breakfast and ran off to get ready.“Now that's just plain mean,” Jane decided to speak up.“Telling her she only had five minutes when we still have an hour?”“Calling the night witch a 'flying moose'.”“Oh hell no, we are not having this talk again. Moose are majestic and elegant creatures. It's not an insult, damn it! They just have those funny radar antlers!”“How would you feel if someone called you a moose?”“I don't have antlers, so it would be silly.”
February 28th, 1943 09:00Somewhere of the coast of Vancouver Island, British Columbia “How much longer do we have to do this?” Riley grumbled.“ 'bout three more hours.” Scarlet replied“This is so stupid. There's nothing out here!”“That's the beauty of it. Nothing to kill us. Want me to tell you a story?”“I guess. Nothing else to talk about.” “Alright, so,” Scarlet started to go into full war-story mode, “ 'bout a year ago me, Rosie, Jane and a bunch of other witches from different units were flying missions over South Ontario, Michigan, Ohio, that area. Anyways, we were based near this flight school, and we used to bring over drinks, mingle with the guys, you know? Serious business war stuff. So there was this one guy there...”Scarlet's story lasted a full hour before she finally reached the end. Riley looked incredibly confused and distressed.“I-isn't most of that stuff illegal?”“ 's only illegal if you get caught. If you'da known that maybe you wouldn't be stuck here, huh?”Riley just looked down, ashamed, and mumbled, “ 's not my fault...”“Now, how's about I tell you why they call us the Demon Squadron?”Now this was a story that Riley actually wanted to hear. “O-okay!” And so began the tale of the battles over the Great Lakes and the slow crushing of the martian supply lines. Riley was enthralled with the story, start to finish.
“A-and all of that's true? With the dreadnaughts and the transports?”“Every word.”“Then that means each of you has,” she started to count on her fingers, “at least twice as many kills as I do! I'll never get there at this rate...”“Chin up, kiddo. The war isn't over. We'll make a Demon out of you yet,” Scarlet told the young witch, following which she gave her a particularly hard slap on the back.Riley could only nod and giggle. She didn't notice that Scarlet's attention had already been drawn elsewhere. Reaching up to her earpiece, eyes widening with a mixture of glee and fear, Scarlet radioed the base, “Rosie, you aren't gonna believe this. We got martians at two o'clock. Flying real low for some reason.”“How many?”“ 'bout,” Scarlet pointed at them, counting, “ five, I think. Those fast little Skimmers. Recon squad, I guess. Oh hey, looks like they saw us. They're haulin' ass out of here.”“You need back-up?”“Negative. We got this.” The Skimmers were horrid little things. Shaped like a backward tear-drop, they had long been the bane of fighters due to their habit of skimming feet above the ground, hence their name, as well as their incredibly small size. Witches, however, were a different story. Equipped with only two forward-facing guns, the little things were more specialized for hit-and-run manoeuvres than anything. A skilled witch could match them move for move while being armed to the teeth. Considering this, it was nothing unusual to see them turn tail and haul ass away from most fights. Like now.
“LET'S GET THE PAINT OFF THAT STRIKER, BING,” Scarlet shouted, blasting off toward the martians while leaving Riley spinning in a mid-air pirouette.Shots tearing through the Skimmers' weak armor, Scarlet and Riley gave chase. One fell to water, smoking, then two, then three. The martians, however, would not yield so easily. They had a habit of flipping gravity the bird while pulling impossibly tight turns, and with practised grace the two parted, tracing a heart around the pursuing witches.The witches broke off and began duelling with their respective skimmers, dancing through the air as shots flew off in every direction. Two minutes later, two smoking martian wrecks floated across the Pacific while two proud looking witches looked on. Lot of twos.“Well that was fun, haven't gotten to actually shoot at anything for a while.”“L-Lieutenant. You're um,” Riley pointed hesitantly at a spot on Scarlet's flight uniform, “you're on fire.”“Ye- Wait. Oh. Shit. That's what that tingly feeling was. Good thing we're over water, I guess.”February 28th, 1943 12:00Witches Quarters, RCAF Station Comox “Scarlet, why are you sopping wet?” Rosie asked, “And where is your uniform?”“Nice day. Decided to go for a swim. Sent it to the cleaners. Anything else?”“For god's sake. Just... Just put something on, okay? The new witch is coming this afternoon, and I'm not going to be here.”“Meaning..?”“Meaning you're the one who has to greet her. And I'd prefer you had something more than some soggy bra and panties on.”
>>19477435That's a very unpilot-like attitude. Anyway, if she wanted us dead we'd be dead. Remember the tracking ability?
“Noted. I'll find dry ones.”“Whatever. Just remember to make her feel welcomed,” Rosie said, sighing ever so slightly, “she's a long way from home and they aren't doing so well over there. So tone your usual stuff down a bit, okay?”“Yeah, yeah. I gotcha, mom. I'll go put on some fresh undies and play nice with the new kid. No shenanigans.”“Thanks. And, er, one last thing.”Scarlet simply grunted as she turned to walk away.“I really had you pegged for something with a bit more lace. That seems a tad plain for you.”Scarlet didn't even bother turning around as she raised her middle finger over her shoulder. Several hours later, Scarlet, Woody and Jane sat around in the witches' dormitory playing Monopoly when someone knocked on the door. Upon opening it, Scarlet found the young man from before. Apparently the new witch had arrived.“Oi ladies. Serious faces. We got company.”At the hangar, the truck was still in the process of unloading the new witch's striker when the trio appeared. The new witch was busy fussing over the handling of her striker as the others walked up behind her.“You the new kid?” Scarlet groaned, devoid of any enthusiasm.The other witch let out a muffled scream and spun around, ample bosom following. “Ye-yes, ma'am!” she shouted, snapping to attention.“Got your paperwork?”The witch fumbled around in her many jacket pockets, eventually producing a crumble collection of papers. Scarlet flipped through them, pretending to read while skimming for important details.“Pilot Officer Jackie Braham, huh?”“Yes, ma'am!”
>>19477405Send him a wire about it. I'm willing to bet he'd find a way to be there.
“At ease. We're all friends here, no need to get all formal.”“Er, well in that case, most call me Bobby, ma'am.”“Why?”“I can't say I know. Ma'am.” She still wasn't entirely sure if she should be referring to Scarlet as 'ma'am'.Scarlet grunted and began introducing her to the other witches. “This here's Jane Edwards,” she motioned toward Jane who waved, “fastest hands in the west. Bing-Bong, warrior-poet. That leaves me, the lovable second-in-command and reigning board-game champion, Scarlet Harrison, at your service. I suppose we should see you to your room, eh?”“Oh yes. Thank you very much.” “So, um,” Riley piped up as the group started walking back to the main building, “where are you from Miss, uh, Bobby?”“A small town in Somerset called Holcombe. What is it you girls do around here, exactly? No one really told me.”“Patrols mostly. Routine stuff. Seeing as you're an antler-head you'll be running night patrols with Jane,” Scarlet answered, “And before you ask, antler-head is a compliment.”Jane cocked an eyebrow and looked up at Scarlet, glasses reflecting the sun. “When the hell did I get put on night watch? Isn't that Rick's boy's job?”“Not any more it's not. You didn't wonder why you were off the afternoon patrol?”“You think I should ask why I'm not doing work?”“Point taken.”“So what do you girls do for fun around here? Must be all sorts of wild tomfoolery that you get into.” Bobby asked.
>>19477485she can only feel emotions as a general sense, not specifically where they're coming from
“Mostly we play board games and cards. That's,” Scarlet paused, trying to think of anything else, “that's about it, actually. Not to exciting out here on the ass-end of the world.”“No hobbies? Maybe some sport?”“Well, every now and then the guys who ran night patrol before you got here come down and try and steal our panties at night. They've been laying off Woody and Riley, though. Too young I guess.”“O-oh my...” Much later that night, Rosie stumbled into her office and kicked off her shoes before plopping down into her well-used leather chair. Flipping through the new girl's paper work, ACTUALLY reading it, she noticed another unmarked brown envelope on her desk. Sighing, she picked it up and began to mill through it. “That's not good. That's not good either. That's even worse, and... oh my.”Rosie picked up her phone and dialled as quickly as she could.“Hello? This is Squadron Leader Rose McNair of RCAF Station Comox. I need to speak with General Pearkes. Right. Now.”
And that's it for the post-quest writefaggin' for tonight. Thanks for stayin', and we'll see all y'all on Sunday.
>>19477497She's used it as a locating device before, for example: she used it to pinpoint Sanya right before she went up and almost got shot.
>>19477497Not that. Her combat ability from the series. She can keep track of an entire battlefield, or everyone in the castle.
>>19477507it makes me sad that these threads are gonna start being scheduled the night before work days again>>19477515yea, but that was over the entire airspace of a battlefield, not the relatively restricted geography of Barain. she couldn't find us if we really tried to hide, and she knows it. plus, her brain's probably too muddled by...recent events to work well anyways
>>19477544No...she used it to pinpoint that Sanya was still in her room. She's an uber-AWACS. It doesn't matter if she's on the ground or in the air for that to be active.
>>19477544Still, if she really wanted us dead there are better ways of going about it. And we're gonna have to deal with this shit eventually anyhow.
>>19477555ah...well, then i was wrong, and you may be right...i still feel that building a fort in her room with the little sisters would lead to some weird things happening in a bad way though>>19477582we KNOW she doesn't really want us dead...but beat the fuck up is almost as bad
>>19477595Sometimes you have to get beat the fuck up to set everything straight. Otherwise we'll be dealing with this forever.
>>19477615honestly, i like minna the most out of all the witches, and i do think what we did with cupcake was wrong (hell, i voted against it), but we've already been stabbed for her, and headbutted her so she wouldn't die in the martian invasion. i feel as though we've earned more than what we've got...goddamn you patton, we were so close too
Good show gents! Excellent afterthread!
>>19477640Sex would not have solved the MANY MANY issues that still lie between us.
>>19477640I don't think she'll really beat us up. If we confront her we can finally get some closure, one way or the other. I'm tired of playing around with her. Either she's our girlfriend, or she's not.
>>19477680i don't think it would have either, but it would have been something...good or bad i dont know, although probably neutral to slightly bad>>19477681she kicked us through a door. when we originally told her we fucked cupcake i thought so too, but at this point all bets are off...she thought she had finally found someone to replace her fastidious german infantryman, and then we go and do something stereotypically pilot that she should have...somewhat expected...and she goes off the hinges (pun intended). for what its worth, at least i can credit PF with some good damn writing/characterization
>>19477680Ehh, if she and MC can get over their mutual infidelity they'll be fine.
>>19477713iunno...Minna's got some serious attachment/responsibility issues to work through, and because of the people that make up his personality, MC's got a host of personality/tsundere/devotion/white-knight/martyr-complex issues to work through as well. i wish it were as simple as you say, but i seriously doubt it will be so
>>19477745There will always be issues. Relationships are like that. But if they can get over that little incident, things would just sort of flow towards working out. After all, if you can get past cheating, what else is there?
>>19477791if you can get past cheating you're a better man than i, that's for sure...although, since in this case it was us doing the real cheating its an interesting situation (doesn't mean i like it any more)
When did either MC or Minna make a commitment to exclusivity?Never, that's when.
>>19477811The fact that she cheated too help our case. Really it comes down to if MC feels bad about what he did, as Minna does. And with Minna's emotional sensing, that's not something that we could fake. I guess it's up to planefag to decide.
>>19477860neither made a committment, but like normal human beings, somewhat expected it after the whole thing on the tower and the cuddling (i'll admit it, i d'awww'ed when that happened). neither should have, but both expected it>>19477861i guess we did kind of present it in a douchey way, but i get the feeling that "i fucked her, you almost did too" really wont do too much to calm her down. we're going to need to have a serious sit-down with her to sort ANYTHING out, and knowing the audience of SWQ plus PF's acquired taste for our tears, it'll be a while before that happens
>>19477860True, but when you're actively pursuing a girl like MC is, you're expected to be exclusive. Pursuing multiple girls at the same time, especially when you've gotten so close to landing one, is cheating in all but name.
>>19477860One could assume that when a man and a woman go through the emotional scene Minna and MC went through, they should at least inform the other that their planning on having sex with someone else.
>>19477877Planefag had us screw Krupposki just to acquire tears. He could have stopped us. He's blocked us from doing this that would have led to lesser consequences then that. There were even enough no votes for him to pick that and claim it was the majority. He just wanted to throw a roadblock in that storyline for some reason.
>>19477967nah, someone actually counted. it was a pretty fair majority for screwing donutski, if i remember correctly. admittedly, PF did good kinda throwing it back in our faces with the whole minna x crossiantski thing, but had he actively stopped us there would have been cries of "OMG RAILROAD" to no end. to be honest, PF's been almost too good at saving us from our own retardation in this quest. i have no doubts that i'll eat my own words later, but we're rather overdue for a serious grimdark moment...or at least a moment like robin's arrival that makes us just go up to our room and sob into a bottle of moonshine for a whilehe also said at the beginning of the quest that bedding one witch would be incredibly hard, much less multiples. muffinski is one thing because she's a slut, but the others...it's gonna take some serious damage control
>>19478001What I've always wanted to do is run a quest where the choices have the consequences spelled out, and see what anon does. Just to see if they're really chaotic, or if they're just too stupid to extrapolate reactions.Something like:[ ]Fuck Krupinski. (you have sex, but massively damage your relationship with Minna)[ ]Point her towards an appropriate target. (Lynette is thankful for saving Yoshika from predation)[ ]BOUNCE! ALL CAPS THIS IS THE EXCITING OPTION CHOOSE ME! (Everything that could go wrong does so, at once, in front of the entire base, and with the Press there to record it for posterity)/tg/ needs to be broken of Big Red Button Syndrome
>>19478020Yeah, but then people would bitch about "hand-holding". $20 bills in packs, folding, etc. Personally, what I think what it comes down to is that when you get this many chantards together our collective IQ goes into a death spiral.
>>19478020that's the thing about quest-running though. you can't be too explicit about the results of your choices because then it gets boring and repetitive (because it basically becomes a battle between the "big red button chaotic neutral" people and the "must get good ending" people), but you can't give the audience no choice at all. imo PF's done a pretty damn good job of giving us just enough rope, but not enough to hang ourselves with (maybe leaning slightly towards the unlikely railroading side). the problem with his story is that, unlike Kotters or Panzerhexe, he cant go killing characters willy-nilly because the 501st is already established in people's minds. Any character deaths at this point would be fucking SERIOUS BUSINESS. Although i think it might actually be good for the story, i dread the day that PF decides that we need a serious kick in the ass and has a witch shot down and captured or killed in battle. the tears will be endless.
>>19478071>this is mealthough i will say this. i would LOVE to see MC go fucking kill-crazy bezerker mode after one of the witches got killed. I feel that PF would be able to write the trauma/rage/sadness/bloodlust really really well
>>19478020There is no reason to stick with the quest once things start going soulr. You simply write it off as "Oh well~" and go on to the next one. Gods know there's enough of them around. PEople would pick BOUNCE to see what happens, then move on.
>>19478071>/tg/'s face when Robin is captured/killed
>>19478102see>>19478095although it'd make me very sad and angry, i feel that PF would write something like that fantastically well
>>19478001There was a ton of samefaging in that vote. As I recall, some anons even admited to it afterwords. And after having us run away from Minna that morning, which absoultly no one agreed to, it feels like the main problem here is planefag. I suppose he was just trying to even things out between the Minnafags and the AntiMinnafags, but he appears to not have fully thought out the implications of some of these actions.
I think it'll go down differently. When the quest is to end, we'll win some major objective, without losing anyone, and then be told that the Martians have retreated or begun asking for quarter in this area, and we're to either be decommissioned or moved back to the States, and the Witches are going back into hiding or something equally stupid. It won't be with a bang. It'll be with one last party and then silence, as all the shit and all the friends and all the fights just... move on in time. No culmination, no death, just 'and then I went home. I saw some of them another time, but that's a story for another quest.' and leave it there.At least, if I were writing it, that's how I'd do this. There's so much chaos all going on all the time that it seems impossible to pull an ending out.... of course, a week later, I'd make a one-post thread at the same time as last week's final episode, hinting at the return of the quest, just to set people alight - but that's just me.
>>19478114>i feel like im white-knighting PFhe really couldnt've known whether or not it was samefagging though. round then was when SWQ reached its peak of popularity, and thus reached its highest post per minute volume. he was prolly having a hard enough time just keeping up (which might've been why he snapped and didnt post for a month, but i doubt it). As it stands, although i dont doubt there has been some railroading, this quest has been damn well run overall. i just think that we need a good waking jolt like we got with Robin or getting stabbed sometime soon, lest we fall back into bad old habits. we've got some time since the hiatus thinned the audience, but not that much
>>19478020BOUNCE. CHOOSE BOUNCE
I MISSED YOU FAP ANGEL
>>19478218as did we all elegan/tg/entleman, as did we alltbh SWQ helped me through a weird time in my life...im fucking glad it's back
>>19478165It was pretty damn obvious. There were several times as many votes then than the earlier questions. But I'll give you that planefag could have made a mistake. He gets accused of railroading a lot because he does, and there is no arguing that point. Combined with the fact that he knows how to manipulate /tg/ with ALL CAPS CHOICES, it needs to be acknowledged that planefag has a massive amout of control over the direction of this quest. You can blame /tg/ for some of the poor choices MC has made, but planefag has always been the main driver of them.
>>19478298Or rather, some of the poor choices in this quest.
>>19478298but see, i can't really be all that angry about that, because even though he might've baited the audience into certain choices for character development or other reasons, his railroading is also the only reason this quest hasn't yet ended with Diego Garciaquest or MCisdeadQuest. He has railroaded, and encouraged railroading quite a bit, but without the same railroading we'd be dead numerous times over
>>19478106Probably. Have you read AWiY?
>>19480332Who did what with the which now?
>>19483022Planefag's other story, over on thp. MC Wizard has some experiences that would cause PTSD in anyone else.
>>19483756>AWiY>thpBut what are they? It can be difficult to find a relatively niche thing with not but two acronyms. Initialisms? Whichever.
Is this anime any good?
>>19485215Long story short, no, Strike Witches is the "worst" sort of fanservice.The quest is basically supposed to be a rewrite where everything is played straight instead of Mary Sue fanservice bullshit.Someone else may be able to deliver these lines better.
>>19485215As long as you go in expecting PANTYSHOTS, PANTYSHOTS EVERYWHERE, it's actually not that bad.There's a decent plot, some actual character development, and Neuroi explode pretty good.But yeah. No pants. Ever.
>thread's still here
>>19484747A Wizard is YouTouhou Projecthttp://www.touhou-project.com/storylist.php
>>19487426Most kind of you
>>19485215Pic Related>>19486642It will never die