PREVIOUSLY: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?searchall=Tank+Witches+of+Orussia“So for our performance in yesterday’s assault, our unit is being sent to the rear.” You hope it wasn’t because of last night. Your headache spikes every time you think about it. “We are going to be performing manual labor duties for the Corps until we are needed once again.” The only person who looks satisfied at the thought of not having to do any fighting is Rascal. “Which of course means that no… we are not expected to run into any combat in the REAR,” you say with emphasis to Greta.“Absolutely disgusting,” she hisses. “Are they really so arrogant that they’ll send five perfectly good witches to the rear in the middle of an assault!?”“It wasn’t the Colonel’s call,” you say, folding your arms. “This came directly from High Command themselves. And we have to deal with it all the same.” Aurelia at least seems to be taking the news well, simply going back to filing her nails. As for Thorn well-She threw her bed over your head, letting it crash through the tent and surprise a few soldiers passing by. “Horseshite!” she screams. “Fucking bullshit!” Greta and Rascal immediately shrink in fright at Thorn’s fury. “You all worked so hard to get where we are now and they’re just going to send us back to the rear!? I am not going to go back to filing paperwork again!” she yells. She grabs her footlocker and slams it down on Aurelia’s bed. It launches Aurelia briefly in the air, before she quickly lands without another word. Aurelia really is taking the news well. “I’m angry! ANGRY ABOUT STRATEGIC DECISIONS!”[1/2]
>>43522533[2/2]“Thorn, it’s only temporary. When they need us again, they’ll call but right now…” You sigh sadly. “Yeah, we’re being sent to the rear so uh… Everyone pack your things and we’ll just be uh…” You bite your lip, mulling over it. Well, at least you got your taste of battle in. And what an amazing taste it was. “Yeah. Pack up.”Rascal looks around at everyone sulking, or in Thorn’s case still throwing items around in a fit of anger. “A-… am I the only one looking forward to going back to the rear?” she says.> “Yes.”> “Well, I’m glad you’re glad, Rascal.”> “Get packing, Rascal.”> Other
>>43522541> “Well, I’m glad you’re glad, Rascal.”But not in a sarcastic, grumpy way! I don't want to be mean to Rascal.
>>43522541> “Yes.”> “Well, I’m glad you’re glad, Rascal.”
>>43522729I want to bully, anon
> “Yes.”You cross your arms. “Yes.” Rascal frowns a little, looking down. “Hey, I don’t mean to be mad at you, Rascal, but this is not exactly the way I wanted things to go for us. I mean, it’s one thing to use us in these assaults, that I understand. But sending us to the rear?” You shake your head. Is the war really coming to a close? Without you having done little to change it? You sigh, then sit down next to Rascal. Greta is already packing her things sadly, while Thorn continues to throw blankets and pillows around in fury. “Look, Rascal. No one’s gonna judge you. You’ve stuck through with everyone, we’re glad to have you. Okay?”“M’kay.” She nods at you, smiling a little hurtfully. “I’m sorry, Kid.”“No, I’m sorry.” You stand up. “Alright, everybody. Let’s get our things packed. We’re leaving in thirty minutes.” You check your watch. Top of the hour you’ll be leaving. “Make it punctual.”Thorn walks up to you. “Surely you could ask the Colonel!” Her eyes are watering a little. Ugh, why are you making it so hard?“It’s not her call,” you say. “Anyway. Come on, let’s everyone get packed and we’ll go.” You clap your hands to emphasize hasty. “Chop chop.” Thorn grunts, hurrying to shove everything in a carrying pack. You didn’t carry much of anything yourself. But hey, at least you made it to the Majors you guess. Now it’s back to suffering in the Minors.[1/2]
>>43523285[2/2]--The truck ride to your new posting in the rear was quiet. A Stuart tank and two Mack trucks were your transportation, one truck for you five, and another for your Strikers with the Stuart for escort. The five of you sat close together, silently, mulling over the thought of being again sent to the rear. Rascal is sitting way in the back, her leg hanging off the edge as she naps.Greta, who’s sitting across for you, lifts up her leg, groaning. “Can’t believe this.”“Get your foot out of my face!” scolds Aurelia. “I don’t want your dirty scent on me!” Greta immediately proceeds to smack her foot upon Aurelia’s cheek. “Agh! Quit it!”“Oi, knock it off you two!” yells Thorn. Aurelia start with the slapping and wrestling now. “Hey, hey, no fighting you two!” Thorn crawls over. Aurelia and Greta immediately stop and see Thorn about to give them a stern talking to. As if through some kind of telepathy, they hatch a plan and knock Thorn flat on her back. “Ah! What are you-““Tickle monster!” yells Greta. They reach under Thorn’s shirt and start running their wiggly fingers along her sides.“Ah! No! Ahaha! AHA! STOP!” screams Thorn. The driver looks back, confused. “AH! Kid! Help me!” she cries, writhing in hilarious agony.> “Out of my way!” Tickle> “Guys, stop it!” Don’t tickle> Other
>>43523303> “Out of my way!” TickleYes
>>43523303> “Guys, stop it! She's MINE" Tickle her for payback from last night.
>>43523303> OtherDeadpan it. Do not acknowledge the tickling in any way.
>>43523303> “Out of my way!” TickleWhere there is skin, we may tickle.
>>43523391this, maybe a small smirk
> OtherYou quickly whirl your eyes around. “No.” Thorn screams, whining as Aurelia and Greta tickle her near to death.“Fuck you, Kid! AAAHH!” she screams, laughing her butt off as Aurelia and Greta tickle her more and more. The driver and his passenger look back, a little confused at what’s happening, but amused once they find out. Rascal doesn’t wake up at all during this, being the heavy sleeper that she is.However, the tickling stops finally you reach camp. The five of you dismount from the truck, and you receive your orders from the driver of the Mack truck. “Directly from General Patton. Follow the orders to the letter, await further orders.” You all look out to the camp, which was more like a singular bunker outpost with a little watchtower in the middle of…Well, bugger all. There was a single road leading towards the frontline beyond that. Was this really what they were assigning you to? Checkpoint duty? Ugh. You groan, shaking your head as you review your orders. “Thanks, driver.” Great, the Air Witches are going to get all the glory, Captain Kelly is going to think you’re a lazy rear echelon motherhubbard, and worst of all you’ll spend the rest of the war in a little bunker on the side of a road! What kind of posting is this!? The Mack truck carrying your Strikers pulls in beside the bunker, then offloads your Strikers one by one. “Anything else?” you ask.[1/2]
>>43524391[2/2]“Nah, basically you’re here to guard this checkpoint until we can send someone up to relieve you. Could be a week or two.” Well, at least a week or two is short. But using witches to guard a checkpoint? Who does General Patton think he is? You sigh deeply, watching as the trucks and the Stuart tank drive on back to the Frontline, without you.The five of you stand by the road, grimacing at your new circumstances. A little concrete bunker, a watchtower, a comm tower as well. Not even a guardpost for a road checkpoint. This was probably a listening post at one point during the Neuroi occupation, now repurposed into a checkpoint. Well, he did say you were going to be relieved in a week. At least that’s something. You look to the squad. Everyone looks absolutely sullen about it.Hm. What should you do?> “Right. Let’s get unpacked. Not like we’ll see much soon.”> “Dibs on the watchtower!”> “Maybe we could fix this place up.”> Other
>>43524414>> “Maybe we could fix this place up.”> “Dibs on the watchtower!”
>>43524414> “Right. Let’s get unpacked. Not like we’ll see much soon.”> “And let's fix this place up.”
>>43524414> “Maybe we could fix this place up.”Might as well.
>>43524414>“Maybe we could fix this place up.”Keeps from getting idle.
>unit does well, gets sent to the rearIs that something that actually happens?
>>43525135Only casualties sustained were Kid's uniform and butt and Col. Hessler's dignity. I'd say the unit is still combat effective.
> “Maybe we could fix this place up.”“Maybe we could fix this place up, guys. Turn it into our home away from home.” You rub your hands together, putting a smile on your face. They all look at you, expecting some sort of brilliant plan to come right out of you. Well, brilliant plans don’t grow on trees so you’re just going to have to go with the mundane. “Let’s get all the trash and garbage thrown out. Get that rickety old watchtower strengthened, and move our Strikers inside, how’s about that?”Thorn crosses her arms. “If the Kid wants it. Let’s do it, girls.” She slaps Greta’s butt, surprising her. “Greta, into the bunker first.” Greta grumpily steps down the stairs into the deep dark bunker. Aurelia follows, holding her nose, not liking the scent even from outside the concrete walls. “Rascal. Take the tower.” Rascal gives a lazy salute, then sleepily walks over to the tower. “Alright, we’ll get this place fixed up.”“Good!” you say. “I’ll cook us some lunch.”--The initial preparations for the bunker were going swimmingly. Snow and ice were being cleared to reveal slits and holes for machine guns and rifles to shoot out of. You had a clear three-hundred sixty degree view all round of everything. Rascal was already fast asleep in the watchtower, having done nothing. Thorn is shaking up the supports, trying to wake her. Part of you wants to say that it’s not a good idea to shake the supports, but another part of you wants Thorn to learn from experience. So you stay quiet.Greta pushes more ice out of the bunker. “There we go. How’s the floor, Aurelia?”Aurelia steps up the stairs quickly, shuddering in disgust. “Ugh, I would not even dare to put a corpse on a floor that dirty, ew! You can scrub the floor!”[1/2]
>>43525347[2/2]“Hm, lemme think. How about no,” says Greta. “Get back in there.” Aurelia looks at you, begging for an out. You shake your head. Aurelia groans, stepping back into the bunker. Greta smiles, stepping up the stairs. “How’s the lunch coming?”“You tell me.” Since the cleaning out of the bunker isn’t complete yet, you were cooking your lunches outside. It was mostly some sort of meat mixed in with some sort of soup broth mixed in with some sort of vegetables. You pulled it out of the MREs which explains why you can’t identify anything in here. Greta sniffs it a little, then balks at the scent. “Relax.” You take a spoonful of the soup surprise, then stuff it down her mouth. She licks the spoon, her eyes tracking around trying to comprehend the taste. “How is it?”She pops the spoon out, then licks her lips a little. “It’s actually very good, Child.” She thumps her chest plate, grinning. “Can’t wait!” She snaps her fingers. “By the way, I found some paint in the bunker, still fresh, which means we can paint our Strikers now!” Aurelia pops her head out, apparently jovial of the thought of getting to decorate her Striker.“Er…” You scrunch your face. The thought of painting your Strikers worries you a little actually. What will they say back home if you have pin ups of girls on your legs? That’d be inappropriate no matter how well you try to put it.She grins. “Tell you what, Kid!” She pats her chest armor again. “You get to paint my armor if you let us paint our Strikers!” she says in a sing song “I’m bribing you” voice.> “Deal.”> “We can cut out the armor. I’ll let you paint the Strikers.”> “Yeah. No.”> Other
>>43525364> “We can cut out the armor. I’ll let you paint the Strikers.”> "But NOTHING INDECENT!"
>>43525364>“Deal.”> "But NOTHING INDECENT!"Oh boy oh boy
>>43525364>> “We can cut out the armor. I’ll let you paint the Strikers.”>> "But NOTHING INDECENT!"
Kid is a wholesome leader who won't bear no pin-ups.
>>43525364>“Deal.”> "But NOTHING INDECENT!"
> “We can cut out the armor. I’ll let you paint the Strikers.”> Other“We can cut out your armor, Greta. Paint really does sound like a good idea.” You wag your finger in her face, sternly. “But nothing indecent. I don’t want any pin ups.” She frowns a little. “You were thinking of pin ups, weren’t you?”“Would you not be honored by me painting your lovely body on the hull of my Striker?” You blush a little. Was that what she had planned? You quickly shake it off. No, ew. You’re not having any inappropriate image of you ever circulated! You shake your head. “Oh, fine. I guess I will go with the standard kill marks then. Anything you want to paint on your Striker though?”“That’s a different issue altogether,” you say. “Get back to work.” You look over at Thorn as she catches Rascal falling from the watchtower in her arms. Still fast asleep, Thorn grumbles as she moves over to the truck to lay Rascal to rest. “Oh, and Greta, again, nothing indent!” She gives you an A-OK sign, grinning. Ugh, she’s going to paint something indecent isn’t she?--All of you crowd around Greta as she puts the finishing touches on her Striker. “Heeeeheeee!” Greta grins, her tongue sticking out between her teeth. “Would you look at that!” She shows off her pride and joy, a pair of elephant tusks on her Striker’s legs, showing off her killmarks. So far, only about fifteen, but certainly a lot of space for more. “And that’s just what I have planned for today! I think I can see some nice options for an insignia on the side of the other leg too!”[1/2]
>>43526545[2/2]Aurelia harumphs, stepping over to her Striker. “Well, I have my own Striker to present to you all! Behold!” She pulls off the tarp, showing off her own painted Striker. It has now been changed from a dusty metal gray to a deep forest green. She painted it green, is that it? “Camouflage need not be unfashionable, just look upon my work and despair!”Rascal points out correctly: “Aren’t we fighting a snowy wasteland though?” Aurelia pauses, then slowly her expression drops.“Did you paint yours, Rascal?” you ask.She shrugs. “Nah. I’m not creative enough for that.”“Neither am I, and I’ve lost count of all my kills so I can’t do Greta’s kill marks thing,” says Thorn. “Though, I might come around to it tomorrow. I might like something red.” Red makes things go faster you hear. “What about you, Kid? Gonna paint your Striker?”> “I would not be caught dead painting anything.”> “Yeah, sure.”> “I’ll let you guys paint it. As long as there’s nothing indecent.”> Other
>>43526568>“I’ll let you guys paint it. As long as there’s nothing indecent.”This trust is completely misplaced.
>>43526568> “I’ll let you guys paint it. As long as there’s nothing indecent.”Indeed, trust is best.
>>43526568> “Yeah, sure.”Turns out Kid sucks at painting.
>>43526568> “I’ll let you guys paint it. As long as there’s nothing indecent.”
>>43526568> “I’ll let you guys paint it. As long as there’s something indecent.”
>>43526568>“I’ll let you guys paint it. As long as there’s nothing indecent.”"One pinup. ONE"
> “I’ll let you guys paint it. As long as there’s nothing indecent.”“I’ll let you guys have a go at it. Just nothing too extreme or indecent, okay?” They grin madly, rubbing their hands together like dastardly whiplashes. Oh great. “… please, guys.”“Don’t worry,” says Thorn as she rubs her hands together in favor of twirling a moustache. “We’ll take good care of your Striker.” You roll your eyes as you step up to one of the turret slits and peer out. You see the mountains, but you also see miles and miles of wasteland all around you. You can barely comprehend the situation that you were stuck in. Getting stuck in the rear while still being combat capable. You shake your head.“Listen, guys,” you say. You turn around. You see them already drawing plans for what to put onto your Striker. “I just want to say thanks for getting me this far. It’s been a heck of a fight that we got ourselves put into, and I just want to say that I wouldn’t trade you guys for the ’27 Yankees line up.” You smile. “So… thanks, all of you.”They all look at you, confused. “This is sudden,” says Aurelia. “What brought this up?”You sigh, sitting down on the cold hard concrete. “Getting put back into the rear is not exactly what I wanted.” They frown. Greta immediately scoots over and sits down by your side, wrapping her arm around you. “I mean, I know war can be terrible and horrific but it’s… I really want to be part of it, if they can be part of it, I should be too.”“Hey, as much as I loathe being sent to the rear,” says Thorn. “I must appreciate too that we can have a little rest before we go back out there again. If the war ends before we do, then great, the war’s over.”“Yeah.” Without you having done a damn bit of difference.Greta pulls you closer. “You want to wear my armor again?”> “Yes, please.”> “No thanks, Greta.> Other
>>43527721> “No thanks, Greta.That's okay.
>>43527721> “No thanks, Greta.Imma gonna sigh for a while.
>>43527721> “No thanks, Greta.
>>43527721> “Yes, please.”
> “No thanks, Greta.“Er, no thanks, Greta.” You gently push her away. She frowns a little, then nods in an understanding fashion. “As much as I love your armor, it’s not exactly what makes me feel better.”“Understandable.” She curls up into it, her head nearly halfway into it. “It makes me feel safe though.”Thorn stands up, smiling. “Hey, Kid. How about you step outside actually? I think me and the girls can come up with a design for your Striker and uh…” She steps to you, crossing her arms. “I’d think we’d want it to be a surprise, right?” Aurelia nods, smiling as well. Rascal looks confused, then Aurelia nudges her. Rascal quickly begins nodding.“Um, I guess. Sure.” You stand up. “Just don’t take too long, it’ll start getting cold out there.” You start walking over to the door. “And for goodness sake’s don’t paint anything indecent on it.” To be frank, you wouldn’t mind if you did have your lovely body adorning your Striker, but it has to be done in a tasteful and not lewd fashion. You hate being lewd. You shake your head and step out.“Ah, don’t worry!” says Thorn. “Here we go, lassies! Let’s break out the paint!” You hear them cheer and start discussing and chattering amongst themselves as they begin to paint your Striker. You sigh, you wonder what they’re doing to it. If they paint a penis on it, you’re going to spank them all until their asses are raw. Hmph, you sit down underneath the watchtower, folding your arms and quickly breathing into your hands. It’s a little cold outside, but you suppose you can suffer a little for a friendly surprise.You just have to hope it’s not too long.…[1/2]
>>43528673[2/2]Now that you sit out here, it’s actually been a while since you wrote to your family back home. You did write to them about having been transferred to frontline duty, and they did give you warm tidings back. Sure, they might be worried for you, but that’s what parents do. Be worried, feed you when you’re hungry, tuck you in when you’re sleepy, spank you when you’re being naughty. Hmph, you’d like to be a parent one day.Nowadays, you probably are a parent.What to do while they’re painting though?> Write out a letter. Might as well have something in case something happens.> Try and get a peek. You love spoilers. They might punish you for it, but the prize.> Work on further defenses. Keep yourself busy.> Other
>>43528698>Write out a letter. Might as well have something in case something happens.Let 'em know we got to kick ass.
>>43528698> Write out a letter. Might as well have something in case something happens.Write a letter about them being so proud of us being a real witch, then think of where we are now, then try not to cry.
>>43528698>Write out a letter. Might as well have something in case something happens.See if we can work in a reference to a loved one back home or how close we are to retirement, just to see what happens.
>>43528698> Write out a letter. Might as well have something in case something happens.
>>43528698> Work on further defenses. Keep yourself busy.
>>43528698> Try and get a peek. You love spoilers. They might punish you for it, but the prize.>>43528673>You hate being lewd.It's not nice to tell lies, Kid!
> Write out a letter. Might as well have something in case something happens.Well it has been a while. You suppose a letter would be good. You pull out some spare paper from your pocket, pull up a pen too, and begin writing.Dear Mom and Dad,I am writing to you from the lovely wastelands of Orussia. I am not at Liberty to say where I am exactly or what the disposition of my unit is, but I will say that things are going brilliantly. As you know, my unit of Tank Witches already held in the face of a nearly impossible to fend-off assault. And just a day or two ago, we also assaulted a cluster and destroyed it with zero casualties, except to my uniform which I had since Day One. Right now, my unit has been shifted to the rearm and while our assignment is only temporary, I do fear that in time the war may end soon without my having made any difference to it.Mom, you’ve always said to me that I would grow up to be special. That I could go out and change the world. When I became a Witch just like you, I was so excited, I knew that I’d get to be a flying Ace just like you did during the Great War. And yet, here I am slopping mud on the ground, barely able to generate shields of any kinds, and for two years forced to do menial labor in Alaska. My greatest fear is that I missed out on my chance to change the world. I do not wish for you to worry for me, and I only hope that you and Dad still will love me even if I come home a changed woman.[1/2]
>>43530037[2/2]I do believe I have changed quite a bit, or at least, in a few ways. The girls I command have given me thought as to how I should look at myself, and how I should conduct myself as well. I know you were so proud of me becoming a Witch, and the thought of disappointing you two would rip my heart out. I hope that if the war ends, I will get to introduce you two to my girls, all of them. I’m sure they will love to meet you two.In the meantime, I cannot divulge any other information regarding my postings. So I will leave it off here. I love you, Mom and Dad. Send my regards to the rest of the neighborhood as well.Always yours,SergeantYou wipe a tear out of your eye. Ugh. In many ways there are lots of reasons you enlisted. One of them was because you loved the thought of fighting and getting hurt. That’s not something you’re proud of but it is a reason. But fighting for the folks back home, showing your Mom that you can be just like her. Honestly, you never told anyone about your Mom, you don’t want to live in her shadow after all. No. This war will not end until you say it ends. You sigh, mulling over it.“Hey, Kid!” yells Thorn. “We finished your paint job!” You grin, standing up and stuffing the letter down your pocket. You quickly jog down the steps and inside the bunker to see. Your Strikers are covered up by a tarp, ready to be torn off by your girls. “Took us a bit to figure out your likes and such and we figured something simple yet elegant would suit you.” Oh? You’re anything but elegant, but at least they tried. “Go for it!”Greta rips off the tarp. “Well, what do you think?”…Um.Well, at least they tried.
>>43530060That's it for tonight's episode of Tank Witches of Orussia. Tomorrow will be another chapter of Magical Girl Liberty and the Atlas of Forever. Hope you all enjoyed and see you on Sunday if you'll be there.Follow at: https://twitter.com/GermanSchteelAsk at: http://germanschteel.tumblr.com/See you next time.
>>43530094Thanks for running! How bad?
>>43530060>Took us a bit to figure out your likes and suchWhat she likes is to crush her enemies, see them driven before her, and to hear the lamentation of their... eh. We haven't found Neuroi Witches yet, so no lamentation from them.
>>43530094Thanks for running! What a mean cliffhanger.>Took us a bit to figure out your likes and suchThey depicted spanking?
>>43530060Thanks for the fun, boss. See you tomorrow!
>>43530120>>43530126>>43530141Entirely up to your imagination. or rising superstar toorops' artThough, way I see it, they did sneak a pin up of you on the leg somewhere.