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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: 1347235377755.jpg-(155 KB, 504x525, IAN'S FINAL FORM.jpg)
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You are Ian Kent, rated pilot and P-61 gunner of the 501st Joint Fighter Squadron, and you're watching a 16 year old French girl implode from the top down before your eyes. Having discovered you're actually English, her nationalism is sinking its teeth into her libido and they're savaging each other like WACs on their first-ever bender, on their first-ever day more then a thousand miles from patriarchal authority figures.

Perrine is clutching at her mouth, though in horror or to wipe away the foam you can't be quite sure. Her rapier lies on the floor, forgotten, and she's backing away from you in little fumbling steps. She's weeping, but her eyes are full of hot, hot hate.

You think she's about to speak. You've got but moments to head the hurr off at the pass.

>wat do?
>wat say?
>Possibilities include:
>continue laughing your ass off
>The fuck's your damage
>comforting words
>n'oo'ping out the door, seriously, it's just too wierd
>>
>>20664060
Comforting. Perrine's perfect and deserves our love.
>>
>>20664060
Just start screaming gibberish.
>>
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nb5 panzer
>>
comforting words
>>
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Inb4 Panzer
>>
>>20664091
I'll let him know he's been bested again on Skype.
>>
File: 1347235652090.jpg-(123 KB, 800x600, 800px-Panzer_IV_1.jpg)
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Pz.Kpfw. IV Ausf. F2
>>
>>20664060
>comforting words

We may be English, but we are gentlemen. And the French one *is* somewhat important to us, as much as we loath to admit it.
>>
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>>20664132
Listen to this man.
>>
>>20664060
comforting words followed by a quick, but gentle, n'oo'p
>>
>>20664060
>The fuck's your damage
Really, the frog is this disgusted by us being English?

THEN Comfort her like the gentlemen we are. One up the French.
>>
Words of Wilding.
Bears will make it all better.
>>
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Alll these split opinions. Better give it a minute or two longer before calling.
>>
>>20664168
You brought this upon yourself with a perspective switch. WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO IAN.
>>
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>>20664168
You're just thinking of new ways to torture Perrine.
>>
>>20664168
What's that? you want me to vote again?
>comforting words
>>
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vL2dFqcgzI
I feel this is appropiate
>>
>>20664060
>comforting words
Enough people have been electricuted today.
>>
>>20664060
>comforting words

What would the French do if the situation is reversed? They'd flip the fuck out is what they'd do, or just run away as they are wont to do.

Which is why we, as proper Englishmen, should do nothing of the sort.
>>
>>20664060
>Comforting words and "The hell is your problem?"
>You never had a problem with me before you found out, and you never even asked. Why act so shocked now, it's not the end of the world.
>Now calm down.

Maybe pat her on the back and do something horrible to MC. Ian and Perrine both have that in common.
>>
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>>
>>20664060
>comforting words
Because honestly?
Ian, while being a pilot, isn't a PILOT, like Mr. Young over there.
And above all else, Ian is still a gentleman.
>>
File: 1347236205499.jpg-(28 KB, 500x313, keep-calm-and-put-the-ket(...).jpg)
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Time for soothing and a nice cup of tea.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eELH0ivexKA
>>
>>20664232
>do something horrible to MC. Ian and Perrine both have that in common.
And Sean. And Sakamoto. And probably half of all of the Witches on Barin. Patton. Luke. Probably Stirling and Rommel.
Fuck, even Mallory has that in common with everyone.

If it wasn't for the Martians, everyone would be united again Young.
>>
>>20664060
>Comforting words

"Yes I'm British, but there's a lot of reasons that I left Britain, that I joined up with the Americans. Right now I'm not a Brit, or an American, I'm just a pilot. If you cared about me before you knew this why can't we just ignore me being a biscuit eating, tea drinking fop and you being a frog. I don't want us to think of each other only in terms of geography."

Then punch MC in the face and give Perrine a hug.
>>
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>>20664293
>Probably Stirling and Rommel.
I'd think they'd be on Young's side, they seem like cool guys.
>>
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>>20664293
Hell, even Minna puts one over on MC every once in a while.
>>
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You finally stop sniggering when Perrine reaches the opposite countertop and bumps into it, jumping in the air with a small shriek, genuinely surprised. Centuries of bad blood between your nations is a big deal and all, but if there's one thing stronger then centuries-old blood feuds, it's horniness. At age 20ish in the US Army Air Corps you consider yourself something of an authority in these matters, so it rather perplexes you that Perrine is really that upset over it.

Your bafflement manifests as do 85% of your emotions - sarcasm.

"Oy I'm a blood'y English-mon, wot wot? Lets 'ave us some tea'n'crumpets eh wot? We'll bugg'er off to da street and score us some'o'dat fish'n'chips whatcha say, eh? Toot toot pip pip cheerio and all dat rawt, oy?"

Perrine is just staring at you.

"'at's roight oim a BLOODY FOOKIN' ENGLISH-MON CAN'T YOU BLOODY WELL BELIEVE IT!" you declare. "CHIM CHIMMINY, CHIM CHIMMINY, CHIM CHIM CHER-FUKKING-ROO!" You prance out of the kitchen with exaggerated oversteps, noting on your way out that Perrine is so plain-out baffled she's forgotten to cry. It's a marvelous technique to get a young woman to stop crying - Young's developed it into an art. A baffling, brain-damaged art.

At least with you its a deliberate tactical decision instead of your brains modus operendi.

Now what?

>Go down to the hangar and see wtf
>Go up to the towers and see wtf
>Go elsewhere?
>See [person?]
>Let the shock wear off and realize YOU JUST SAW YOUR FUCKING MOTHER
>>
>>20664338
Umm, aren't we still talking to Perrine?
>>
>Let the shock wear off and realize YOU JUST SAW YOUR FUCKING MOTHER
This is rather a bit more panic inducing. But we are Ian. Thus we shall have a reserved panic
>>
>>20664338
>Let the shock wear off
And realize that we need to fucking HIDE, because fuck we are fucked.
What if Dad is here too?
>>
>>20664338
>Let the shock wear off and realize YOU JUST SAW YOUR FUCKING MOTHER

But we are Ian, so it shall be a silent panic.
>>
>>20664338
>>Let the shock wear off and realize YOU JUST SAW YOUR FUCKING MOTHER
>>
How do the brits even punish their kids? Do they take away their tea sets? Forbid them from fox hunting?
>>
>>20664338
Go hide in the suit of armor.
>>
>>20664338
Find somewhere quiet, silently panic, realize it's our mother and then go find her before she finds us.
>>
>>20664338
Hey, isn't there a battleship coming in? Let's go point and laugh at them.
>>
rolled 57 = 57

>>20664338
>>Let the shock wear off and realize YOU JUST SAW YOUR FUCKING MOTHER

Dash back in
"Wait, was that my mother? Did she see me smoking?
>>
>>20664417
>Forbid them from fox hunting?

IIRC, Ian's mom didn't even let him touch guns, so I'd think it be the tea set.
>>
>>20664417
Keep calm and carry on beating them bloody with a stiff upper lip.
>>
>>20664168
Planefag, I love you. Just wanted you to know that.
>>
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>>20664338
>Let the shock wear off and realize YOU JUST SAW YOUR FUCKING MOTHER

so is the shock what's keeping us insane and held together, will this induce a panic attack?
>>
>>20664338
>Let the shock wear off and realize YOU JUST SAW YOUR FUCKING MOTHER
time to go revile some underlying mommy issues!
>>
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You're about halfway through the dining room when you remember your mother probably left through this way so sweet jesus christ on a motorcycle and moses in the sidecar YOUR FUCKING MOTHER IS HERE.

Long years without seeing her, long months in the Army Air Corps dodging even the hint of her presence manifesting in past military associates, time spent covering your paper trail, bitterness, rejection redemption - in minutes your life could become one of those sappy stories penned by stiff upper-lip assholes with names like Peabody PinPrick Worthington back in eighteen-boringhundred.

This cannot come to pass.

You focus on your breathing, matching your footsteps to the same tempo. You can't function and keep your shit together and dodge your mother at the same time - you need to hide. You need to hide, NOW.

>wat do
>>
>>20664703
QUICK! GRAB A SUIT OF ARMOR
>>
>>20664703
TO THE SUIT OF ARMOR!
>>
>>20664703
TO THE SUIT OF ARMOR! IT WORKED ONCE IT SHALL WORK AGAIN!!!
>>
>>20664703
We won't be able to hide from our mother, her Mom senses will find us. There is no running, no hiding, none of that.

We find that suit of armor, put it on for protection and a sense of safety and then find her.
>>
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>>20664703
Get a suit of armor and head to the deepest, darkest spot Barin has to offer.
>>
>>20664703
WE NEED TO HIDE DEEPER.

SUIT OF ARMOUR IN A FERN.
>>
>>20664703
Definitely armor.

preferably some place dark and in a hidden corner,

some place that young won't find us.
>>
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>>20664719
>>20664721
>>20664730
ARMORMIND
>>
>>20664703
ARMOR, SWEET ARMOR!
>>
>>20664703

Suit of Armor? Suit of Armor.
>>
We knight now
>>
OI IT'S SIX A BONG
>>
File: 1347237881102.jpg-(90 KB, 475x475, 655c664cbcd6abb82a8d05142(...).jpg)
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>>20664703
Armor. The last time we did it, we had a pleasant surprise.
>>
>>20664739
Oh and where our mom won't find us, but definitely don't let young know where we are either. We can't let him try to "resolve" our issues continually in the most humiliating ways possible.
>>
File: 1347237924558.jpg-(1.04 MB, 2016x1512, Panzerkampfwagen_III_4.jpg)
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>>20664703
ARMOR NOW!
>>
>>20664767
>Not naming that picture "Perrine accidentally follows herself on Twitter"
Step up yo game aniki
>>
>>20664803
thanks /a/.
>>
>>20664703
Armour, gents, we english now, not american!
>>
File: 1347238149643.jpg-(50 KB, 643x310, 1329712048288.jpg)
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There's really only one option.

The true glory of Castle Barin lies in the overly ornate, delightfully stale fashion sense of its stuck-up British Witch (bwitches, if you will,) and their seemingly bottomless expense accounts. In almost any castle in the world - and you've been to several, when you were young - the painfully tired old trope is useless, since the armor is just display-quality mockups. But here, in Barin, there's not only an abundance of REAL armor, but enough mock-ups also strewn around to make pausing and standing in an alcove a plausible disguise. Only here is a clanking iron suit a viable stealth option - and should thine foe catch you anyways, you are wearing a suit of plate-armor with steel gauntlets, and they are not.

There's only one small problem - the matter of the arming coat. The undergarment that actually helps hold everything together; you liberated a replica from a storeroom in the cellar soon after arriving, from a box labeled "MOOSEUM." Oh, those London dockworkers. However, the damn thing is in your quarters, upstairs.

>Stroll up there casually like nothing fucking happened
>NO CHANCES. MAXIMUM STEALTH.
>Abandon this plan, we need more immediate results!
>>
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>>20664821
YOU, SIR MUST DESIST AT ONCE
>>
>>20664743
>filename

Saved. So hard. Even the horse is making a face. My god.
>>
>>20664833
>NO CHANCES. MAXIMUM STEALTH.
Sam Fisher that shit
>>
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>>20664833
>Abandon this plan, we need more immediate results!

They'll be expecting is to go to our room
>>
>>20664833
>Stroll up there casually like nothing fucking happened

Because nothing totally happened. At all.
>>
>>20664833
Fire our sidearm into the ceiling and start yelling.
>>
>Abandon this plan, we need more immediate results!
Hide in the plane?
>>
>>20664833
>Stroll up there casually like nothing fucking happened

The best way to not be noticed is to be as conspicuous as possible, people tend to notice if you're sneaking around.
>>
rolled 58 = 58

>>20664833
>>NO CHANCES. MAXIMUM STEALTH.
>NO CHANCES. MAXIMUM STEALTH.
>>
>>20664833

Maximum Stealth. We must have our armor!
>>
>>20664833
>Stroll up there casually like nothing fucking happened

If we start going stealthy someone will notice and we'll be suspicious, If we're just walking no one will notice us.
>>
>>20664833
>Stroll up there casually like nothing fucking happened

Momma just fell out of the sky in a stolen Martian droppod. She doesn't have any idea where we're actually staying. Hell, she probably thinks that we were just a mirage. That will buy us a few minutes before she actually confirms that an Ian Kent is actually on-base.
>>
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>>20664833
>Stroll up there casually like nothing fucking happened

Someone, somewhere is laughing at our misfortune. It must be Dad.
>>
>>20664833
>NO CHANCES. MAXIMUM STEALTH.

We cannot face our mother.
That would border to rational social behavior.
Can't have that.
>>
>Stroll up there casually like nothing fucking happened
We're Ian Iceman. We're soooo cool and casual, we leave frost where we walk!
If we do anything else, we'll stand out, look like we're up to something. Cause we TOTALY are NOT up to ANYTHING. AT ALL!
>>
time for ian to mention his desire to get american citizenship

or if it wasn't there before, it is now
>>
Our greatest strength is our unflappability. Fly casual.
>>
>Stroll up there casually like nothing fucking happened

We are Ian guys, NOT Young! Young would go Maximum Stealth. Either way, Maximum has "Mum" in it, I don't fucking trust it.
>>
>>20664833
Going stealthy is the american option.

And even if we are currently in american uniform, we must stick with the ingrained british ways.

Stiff lip and just waltz right in there.
>>
>>20664989
>stealth
>American
You forget the air support, artillery cover and use of excessive firepower.
>>
File: 1347239081214.jpg-(648 KB, 2100x1500, F-22 in front of Pearl Ha(...).jpg)
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>>20665032
Unless your a Serb, you'll never see us coming.
>>
>>20665051

Oh, what is going on in that pic?
>>
>>20665061
>file name
>>
>>20665061
Filename.
>>
>>20665061
>filename
>>
File: 1347239201833.jpg-(60 KB, 640x432, Not_this_one_you_faggot.jpg)
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>>20665061
>>
>>20665061
filename
>>
>>20665061
Filename.
>>
File: 1347239320213.jpg-(26 KB, 335x478, what the actual fuck.jpg)
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Focusing on keeping your breathing slow and your footsteps unhurried, you unconsciously slip into the Roll - the slow, inexorable gait of glacial ice shelves, cool customers, smooth criminals. The Roll is slippery smooth and glides through minds as easily as over floors as people marvel at the frictionless passage of the otherworldly You. It has served you well in the past, and shall save you again in your hour of need.

Your jimmies are not merely smooth; they are nigh frictionless, gliding you through Castle Barin, up the steps, and into the dormitory wing with nary a sound. Unlocking your bedroom door, you roll inside, aqquire your arming coat, and roll into the hallway, gliding towards the back staircase that leads into the depths of the castle as you casually cinch up the straps-

"Ian?"

You roll onward, frictionless, not quite a creature of this world, ethereal in your mystical passing, like the polar opposite of the Wild Hunt, the Smooth Operator, untouchable and "HURRRRRrrrkfgfdx-" you comment cleverly as your inexorable advance continues, but the collar of the arming coat does not. You are hauled back violently, and pinned to the wall with authority.

"Ian?" Trude repeats.

Once again of this materiel plane, you deign to answer with a nod.

Trude looks you up, down, up, down, and up again.

"What the fuck are you doing?"
>>
>post update
>scarf some food real quick
>come back
>You mistyped the captcha

god fucking damn it to hell
>>
>>20665120
"Getting my daily supplement of iron. Yourself?"
>>
>>20665120
>wat do
>>
rolled 2 = 2

>>20665120
Mom present.

Didnt want me to join military

Very violent person

Hiding
>>
>>20665146
See >>20665138
>>
>>20665120
Just ironing out some issues.
>>
>>20665138
This guy has it right.
>>
>>20665120
Explain ourself calmly, we're still on the roll, we just need to slip past her.

"Family matters. Nothing for you to worry about. How's your day been?"
>>
>>20665120
Just out for a stretch. Yourself?
>>
>>20665120
Yeah this >>20665138
>>
>>20665146
"Ah, you know, hidin' from me mam ta keep 'er from killin' me. The usual."
>>
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"Just getting my daily iron supplement," you reply smoothly.

Judging from the sour expression on Trude's face, she's brought steel to this little chat. Oh well.

"You're going to hide in a suit of armor again," Trude observes.

"No shit," you agree. "Your powers of observation are incredibly keen. Next you'll tell me my likely cause of flight." You wait with baited breath, ready to drop the arrival of your mother on her when she says "Perrine."

Instead, she just sighs and releases you. "Ian..." her mouth quirks uncertainly, warring with her inner stern nature. She seems to want to say something.

>Draw it out
>just bounce out of there
>>
>>20665280
>Draw it out
>>
>Draw it out
It's not like we have anywhere else to go. And she is *generally* level headed.
>>
>>20665280

Stiff. Upper. Lip.
>>
>>20665280
Draw it out.

Bouncing is Young's territory.
>>
>>20665280
>Draw it out
>>
>>20665280
>/tg/ ever ignoring a plot hook

DRAW IT OUT
>>
>>20665280
>Draw it out
>>
>>20665280
>Draw it out
We are Ian, Not Young. We don't bounce.
>>
>>20665280
>Draw it out
Generally Trude has been level-headed and competent. And Ian was with Sean and Young when they rescued Chris. She owes us one, so I doubt she's keeping us pinned while our Mother approaches.
>>
MY FIRST POST IN FOREVER

> draw it out!
Something is happening!
>>
>>20665327
She doesn't know our mother, she would have done it unknowingly.
>>
>>20665280
Draw it out.
As said above, we don't do the bouncing.
>>
>>20665327
And if she is, we have Weapons-Grade guilt material.
>>
>>20665280
Draw it out, we're a gunner, we're not some hot shot pilot who jumps on or out of anything. We sit there and we wait for the perfect shot.
>>
>>20665280
Preemptively shut the visor and stand still in case someone walks by before she has a reply.
>>
>>20665280
>implying we will ever ignore something like this when you dangle it in front of us.
fuck you planefag
>draw it out.
>>
>>20665280
[x] Draw it out
>>
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"... what is it?" you venture. Perhaps this will distract her long enough for you to run.

"There's..." Trude shakes her head, beginning to redden. "I mean... we've all been watching you do this for a while, now. I thought Young would've talked to you about it by now, but..." her expression darkens into a scowl - "every time he has a chance he's either got something else to do or does something of questionable intelligence on a seeming whim."

"Well, he is a bit busy," you counter.

"Because he chooses to be," Trude retorts. "He's ducking responsibility for his crew."

You think about that for a moment, and nod. "You know how he got the callsign Ghostrider? In training, whenever he was on mess cleaning duty, he would just fucking vanish."

Trude smirks knowingly. "See? Is it not obvious?"

"Of course," you reply. "He's always been a duty-shirking free-wheeling asshole. Without Sean and I the dumbfuck would've been bounced out of training harder then Jess Willard fighting Jack Dempsey on a trampoline."

Trude's eyelids lower dangerously as she gives you a cool look. Literally, you can feel the ambient temperature dropping. "Stop trying to change the subject, you slippery little shit."

How rude. Just because it's true doesn't mean you should *say* it, right?

Right?
>>
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>lol /tg/ never ignores plot!

.....
>>
>>20665535
Sshhhh.
it's ok. He is new
>>
>>20665524
...you lost me.

I think MC not having a name is starting to bite us in the ass.
>>
>>20665524
Don't get her angry, she could tear our arms off like a bear.

Listen to what she has to say,

But just glance at your watch impatiently. If she's going to be rude then there's no reason we should listen politely.
>>
>>20665535
well, sure, if pillow forts are a priority we'll ignore plot in favor of them.

the problem is pillow forts are always a priority.
>>
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>>20665524
I... I'm not following. What are we talking about?
>>
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>>20665535
>/tg/
>Plot
>Shiny buttons

Choose 2.
>>
"Okay?" you venture. Trude's eyes just narrow a little more... and then she sighs, seeming to deflate like a balloon. From avenging Teutonic hell-angel to tired young woman in a matter of moments. She claps a hand on your shoulder.

"Ian... thing is about Young, he's not good at handling stress. If you've noticed."

To call Trude's statement ironic understatement would be, in itself, ironic understatement.

"Somehow, these words' lack the immense gravity needed for this matter," you reply earnestly. "But, unschooled in literature as I am, I can only say no SHIT, Sherlock!" you fume. "The other night the lunatic jumped off a fucking tower with his parachute. He jumped off a fucking TOWER, Trude. How the hell does he-"

"-even ignore the woman who can beak him in half when she tells him to STOP CHANGING THE GOD-DAMNED SUBJECT!?" Trude spits at you, before literally biting back her wrath, teeth buried in her lip. "I'm trying to be all supportive and shit, asshole!"

>wat say
>>
>>20665535
Plot hooks. /tg/ never ignores plot hooks. We'll forget overarching plot in a second.
>>
>>20665633
"Then GET TO THE POINT ALREADY!"
>>
Saying things doesn't seem to be working out for us. We should avoid that, I think.
>>
(to be clear, the Main Character is being referred to by his last name, 'Young.')
>>
>>20665633
"You want the truth? Here's the truth!
"My mother is on this base. The mother who I rebelled against so fucking hard, that I joined the fucking Yanks just so I could fly and hold a gun. THE. FUCKING. YANKS.
"All I need is a place to hide so I can think things through without having my mother's hands around my throat."

Actually, have the British gotten to calling Americans 'spams' at this point in the war?
>>
>>20665633
"Then get to the point Kraut."
>>
>>20665633
>continue to change the subject
"that reminds me of this really awesome time when young had some bad mre's, he had to be taken out of the bathroom by a stretcher"
>>
>>20665633
Fuck. we are of englishgentry, We should know this. Discuss over a cup of tea?
>>
>>20665633
If you would be so kind as to reveal the subject, then?
>>
Wait, is she trying to support Young or us?
>>
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>>20665707
Mre's you say, we had those in World War 2 did we now?
>>
>>20665707
that's the spirit were already knee deep in shit as it is, lets see if we can dig our self out by going deeper.
>>
>>20665633

"Then get to the damn point already."
>>
>>20665745
For some damn reason I don't think that will work.
>>
I;m starting to think that any protagonist given to /tg/ will intantly drop 100 iq points.
>>
>>20665746
>>20665707
Do both. Tell her to get to the point, in a long roundabout way.


But seriously the longer we're not in armour the more nervous i'm getting. And being pinned in one spot is not good.
>>
>>20665633
Shouting doesn't help with that at all you know.
>>
>>20665784
Where the hell have you been Captain Obivious?
>>
>>20665811
We are in armor. She caught us on the way back outside.
>>
>>20665743
i dont know chow hall food, whatever the fuck we had in WWII. just had that story about that kid whose dad brought mre's back home and he took a asshole blasting shit on the mind.
>>
>>20665839
C-rations
>>
>>20665839
C-rations, I believe
>>
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"Typical German, quick out the gate but poor on the finish," you mutter. "What's your goddamn point!"

"There's some things you can't control, and some problems you can't just control or bottle up, dammit! I know because I... I..." Trude's chest shudders as her exhalation stutters out, almost a dry sob. "Chris. You know?"

".... oh," you say quietly.

"Young might be functionally insane, but his issues... get out. And then he's either rid of them, or - or other people notice. And his only method of keeping people at distance is bluster, and once you've got his number, you *know* its just bluster. But me... and you..." Trude shakes her head. "I'm sorry I can't explain this better. I'm still in the *middle* of it, Ian. Still working through this. But I realize now that... the way I was, when Chris was unconscious, wasn't helping anybody deal with the situation. Including me."

You sigh. "I... I never thought of it that way."

Trude nods, sidling away from you, the embarrassment of her personal disclosures finally pressing her away. "Just.... just think about it, would you?"

"I will."

Trude retreats to her room and slams the door.

Well.

>Go somewhere quiet and think about our own issues
-IN ARMOUR
>Ask around about Perrine - what IS her fucking damage, anyhow?
-IN ARMOUR
>Something else
-IN ARMOUR
>>
>>20665836
i though she caught us after we got our arming coat before we could get any armor.
>>
>>20665784
Well, if calm and composed or actually brilliant reactions were any entertaining, we could have intelligent characters.
>>
>>20665873
Perrine.
>>
>Ask around about Perrine - what IS her fucking damage, anyhow?
-IN ARMOR
Because why the fuck not?
>>
>>20665873
>Ask around about Perrine - what IS her fucking damage, anyhow?
>>
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>>20665873
Learn about the best girl.
>>
>>20665886
As did I.
>>20665873
>Ask around about Perrine
>>
>>20665873
Uhh okay so for the denser people here, can some one explain what the fuck just happened?
>>
>>20665873
>Something else
-IN ARMOUR

Find out what mommy is here for and how to dodge her in the days to come.
IN ARMOURICA!
>>
>>20665873
>Go somewhere quiet and think about our own issues
In armor.

And if DO end up asking about Perrine, DON'T do it in armor; the armor is still mostly secret, and only known by Young and Perrine.
>>
>>20665873
Translation: "Don't bottle up your issues, it hurts more than it helps."

>ask about Perrine
>>
>>20665873
>Ask around about Perrine - what IS her fucking damage, anyhow?
-IN ARMOUR
We need to end the nonsense before it gets someone killed
>>
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>>20665873
So... what did we talk about?
>>
>>20665949
>>20665929
See >>20665941
>>
>>20665968
>Directing people to a vote post
>>
>>20665930
>why is mom here
Kind of obvious, though.
We got the DFC and the MoH. Even Young ended up having his parents come all the way from America.
She came because of the medal ceremony.
>>
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>>20665968
Oh yeah man that explains everything. Thanks.
>>
>>20665994
No, she came because of NTR
>>
>>20665983
I think he meant this one >>20665936.
>>
>>20665994
>We got the DFC
Confirmed for Luchini and Miyafugi end
>>
>>20665873

>Ask around about Perrine - what IS her fucking damage, anyhow?
No armour though confronting a upset french witch who has been known to summon fucking lightning while wearing a giant conductive suit seems like a bad idea.
>>
>>20666015
Lucchini needs a fucking leash.
>>
>>20666026
its a good idea, the suit will ground us.

i think.
>>
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>>20665998
>>20665983

Oops. I indeed meant >>20665936
>>
>>20665873
Speak to Perrin in armor. Our mother probably still thinks we have some form of sanity back from when she saw us last so the sight of us in armor speaking to an underage french girl should cause a bsod long enough to scram if seen. Wait no Perrine isn't underage in Britain. Still the point stands.
>>
>>20666086
She may not be underaged, but she's still french.
>>
Ask around about Perrine - what IS her fucking damage anyway
-IN ARMOUR
>>
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Twenty minutes later you are kitted out in your favorite suit of full plate, clanking around the hallways of Castle Barin at a steady clatter. You waive amiably to two men walking down the hall, who stumble to a stop and turn to watch you pass, mystified.

With any luck the armor will serve as a faraday cage if Perrine tries to fry you like a piece of toast or something. Or bread, actually. You fry bread and *then* it becomes toast. So that's a bad analogy.

Pondering these weighty matters of literature, you are caught completely unawares by Luuchinni, who rings your bell. Again, literally.

"SHIT!" you cry, clutching at the steel helm to stop the reverberations. Zucchini just giggles merrily and whacks the helmet again. "Does it hurt?"

"WANT TO FIND OUT!?" you bellow, casting about for the little shit, but she skips merrily away, and within seconds she's on your back, safely out of your amour-hampered reach.

"This is fun!" she declares.

>Oh well, roll with it
>See what SHE knows
>LAST STOP, EVERYBODY OFF - BITCH
>>
>>20666163
>>LAST STOP, EVERYBODY OFF - BITCH
>LAST STOP, EVERYBODY OFF - BITCH
>>
>>20666163

"roll"with it on the ground.
>>
>>20666163
Roll with it, as in, do a forward roll and crush one or more of her greasy limbs.
>>
>>20666163
Bitch needs a fucking leash.
>>
>See what SHE knows
She KNOWs things. The little cunt hides in the rafters after all. Persuade her with candy
>>
>>20666163
See what she knows, if we start swinging at her we'll end up looking like Young.
>>
>>20666163
>LAST STOP, EVERYBODY OFF - BITCH
Time to fuck up a little Italian girls day.
>>
>>20666163
>See what SHE knows
If she doesn't know something then
>Oh well, roll with it
>>
>>20666163
>See what SHE knows

No one ever talks to the stupid bitch. Give her some attention and maybe she'll behave for a minute or two.
>>
>>20666163
Damn it >>20666039 speak of the god damned devil.
>>20666182
>>20666185
both of these. get this monkey off of our back.
>>
>>20666163
And lo, /tg/ was granted an opportunity to indulge in their Lucchini abuse dreams.

That said,
>See what SHE knows

She naps all over the place. What has she listened in on?
>>
>>20666163
>Oh well, roll with it
...onto our back.
>>
See what she knows.
>>
>>20666163
Goddammit she's like ten years old or some shit, we can't just punch her out with our steel gloves.

See what she knows.
>>
>>20666241
Twelve actually.

See what she knows
>>
>Oh well, roll with it
>See what SHE knows

Remember, we're Ian, the cool customer, not that hot-blodded MC Young.
Chill with the little Ittalian and see what she knows!
>>
>>20666163
>See what SHE knows
Because we are NOT MC fucking Young, and we will act like it by not being a retarded shit.
>>
>>20666163
[x] See what SHE knows
>>
>seriously letting the little WOP get away with this
FUCK ALL OF YOU!
>>
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All things considered, this has not been the best day. And you'll be damned if you put up with this EYE-TALIAN demon pixiesprite from hell for even one more second.

"NOOOPE!" you scream, and start twisting, hopping, jumping and generally flipping your shit as you try to dislodge the little shit. After several rounds of this fail to elicit more then delighted screams, you start slamming your armored back into either wall, but as you approach the stonework, Luuchini just swings from your back to your front like a monkey, lithe little arms wrapped around your neck. You ricochet your armored body 'twixt the walls with a pinballs frenzy, but at long last, exhausted, you collapse on the stone floor with Luuchini still sitting on your back.

"AGAIN!" she calls with excitement, and you groan miserably.

"Oh, you're playing with Luuchini?" Charlotte's voice sails in, dripping honey.

>Yep, she's like the little sister I never had.
>You know damn well what's going on you sarcastic bitch
>So I was wondering something about Perrine...
>>
Roll with it and see what she knows about Froggy
>>
>>20666365
>>Yep, she's like the little sister I never had.
>>You know damn well what's going on you sarcastic bitch
>>So I was wondering something about Perrine...
>>
>>20666365
[x] Yep, she's like the little sister I never had.
AND NEVER WANTED EITHER
>>
>You know damn well what's going on you sarcastic bitch
>>
Yep she's like the little sister I never had and probably would have murdered if I did
>>
>>20666365
>Yep, she's like the little sister I never had.
>So I was wondering something about Perrine...

Respond to honey with more honey. Can't *hurt*. Besides, flat-out admitting to the Italian's surrogate mother that we were trying to hurt her isn't very smart.
>>
>>20666365
>Yep, she's like the little sister I never had.
>So I was wondering something about Perrine...
>>
>>20666365
>Yep, she's like the little sister I never had.
>So I was wondering something about Perrine...
>>
>>20666365
>>So I was wondering something about Perrine...
>>
>>20666365
>>Yep, she's like the little sister I never had.
>>
>You know damn well what's going on!
>>
>>20666365
She's the sister I never had.
>>
>>20666365
I actually find this endearing.

>Yep, she's like the little sister I never had.
>>
>>20666365
>Yep, she's like the little sister I never had.
>So I was wondering something about Perrine...

These two fit pretty well together, honestly. If we only get one go for the second though.
>>
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>>20666365
Talk about best girl.
>>
Ask about Perinne to keep Luuchinni distracted. Behave rationally until she becomes bored and leaves.
>>
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>>20666592
But we're already talking to her.
>>
>>20666365
She's like Robin, only less soul-shattering and more annoying. Speaking of annoying, any idea what's up with Perrine?
>>
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>>20666626
indeed
>>
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"We're just playing, she's like the little sister I never had," you reply. "Don't YOU ever play with Luuchini? You no-fun stick-in the mud, for shame. Anyways, I was wondering something about Perrine..."

Charlotte is silent for a moment. "... that sounded like your bullshit voice, but I guess you really *do* do this kind of thing all the time. Like, six times and counting in less then two weeks. That's pretty frequent."

"Yeah. Anyways. Perrine," you persist doggedly.

"What about her?"

"Why is she fucking insane?"

"Why are you in a suit of armor?"

You sigh gustily.

"Perrine's a flat-chested pushy bitch," Luuchini opines huffily. Charlotte lifts the girl off your back, and you clatter and clamor into upright and locked position.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," you mutter at Luuchini. "I saw some Brits heading the other way, if you hurry you can get there in time to surrender to them."

"WHY YOU-" Luuchini snarls, leaping at you only to be caught in mid-air by Charlotte.

"Ian, I can tell you WHAT she is, but *why* she is, that's another matter," Charlotte says calmly as she clamps her arms firmly around the struggling Luuchini. "Why don't you just ask her already?"

>Good point
>ffffuck no, let's try somebody else first
-- specifiy
>>
>>20666653

>Good point

Over tea and cumpets
>>
>>20666653
Good point

No more beating around the bush.
>>
>>20666653
>Good point

We have suit of armor, and we have successfully managed to piss of Lucchini. Time we asked her.

Besides, we *just* rose to her defense.
>>
>ffffuck no, let's try somebody else first

I think we should try those that know her best: Mio, Yoshika or Lynette
>>
>>20666653
We should ask minna, she seems like she has good insight on other.

Mio... maybe for some manly advice.
>>
>>20666652
I like that Chuck thought that was pretty damn funny when he heard it, in fact most of the pilots responded in good humor about this series. I guess that even in old age they are the masters of not giving a fuck.

Captcha: hueston, procod
... Oh god.
>>
>>20666653
I would if I knew where she was, have you seen her recently?
>>
>>20666653
>Good point
Only two people who have more insight would be Wilcke and Sakamoto. The former has a high chance of having brass, and consequently our mother, near her, and the latter has a 50% chance that her intel will be false meant to watch us make a fool of ourselves.
>>
>>20666653
>"Perrine's a flat-chested pushy bitch"

Luuchini confirmed for not as bad as we first thought. Warrants further investigation.
>>
>>20666700
I thought Chuck was the only one that was still kickin
>>
>>20666653
>Good Point
>>
>>20666722
I think there were a few more.
>>
>>20666653
[x] Good point
Get Zucchini to distract mother dearest.
>>
>>20666748
HOLY SHIT, This guy is on to something.
>>
>>20666748

>distract dear mother with zucchini

...Introduce her as bethrothed?
>>
>>20666653
>Good point
when she's right, she's right
>>
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>>20666700
all the pilots except for chuck were dead before the series aired.

the only word we ever got was from chucks was paraphrased by an anon through chucks my space assistant who said something about telling chuck something and chuck saying that it was interesting.

nothing more, and i should know i was in that thread.
>>
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>>20666653
>Bitch
>>
>>20666783
go back too bed, kotters
>>
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Current Ghostrider kill count

Young:
Girlfriend= Minna
Imoutos= Sanya, Yoshika, Robin

Ian:
Girlfriend= Perrine
Imouto= Luccini

Sean:
Girlfriend= Mio

With Elia and Lynne claimed by Sanya and Yoshika respectively, this leaves Shirley, Trude, and Erica as the last remaining unclaimed witches in the 501st.
>>
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>>20666794
Never
>>
>>20666805
Trude X Chuck

Write it.
>>
>>20666822
which one?
>>
>>20666841
Both
>>
>>20666841
both
>>
>>20666841
Both
>>
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>>20666822
YESSSS
>>
>>20666700
Well, in Hartmann's case, it was his family, not him since he died already, who thought it was funny and when told about the character's complete lack of military discipline laughed and said that it was just like him.

The only one that was still alive when the series aired was Chuck.

Barkhorn had died a little while back, with his wife, in a car accident where a drunk driver killed them by running a red light. If not for that, he might have been alive then too. ;_;

And Rall died just a few years back as well, of natural causes. Wilcke died during the war.
>>
>>20666852
>>20666858
>>20666859
>>
>>20666653
>Good point
We're Ian now. Level-headed and mature.
>>
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>>20666919
>>20666859
>>20666858
>>20666852
Bothmind
>>
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"... good point," you admit with a sigh. "I was rather hoping I wouldn't have to, though."

"You want to clear the air between you and Perrine - without TALKING to her?"

"Our encounters always seem to end with physical violence applied to somebody in the vicinity," you reply, "and considering that bitch could jump-start a half-ton lorry, that's rather problematic."

"Um," Charlotte says. "Well, you COULD talk to Minna about it. She keeps better tabs on her people then most."

>Who find?
>>
>>20666906
Man that drunk driver would have been dead as soon as they found out who he had killed.
Not a way someone like that should go out
>>
>>20666805
>he doesn't know the witches claim you
>>
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>>20666988
Perrine. Minna's probably banging Young right now, in at least one sense of the word.
>>
>>20666988
perrine
>>
>>20666988
Minna
Ask her what the fuck is wrong with the frenchy

Then go talk to her once we know what to do
>>
>>20667003
He will learn
>>
>>20666988
MC! He can talk to Minna for us! This is a brilliant plan that cannot fail!
>>
>>20666988

Ask Miyafuji. She's the new girl (after Robin) and she's pretty open with her opinions.
>>
>>20666988
Perrine

Goddammit we can solve our own problems.
>>
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did someone say Trude x Chuck?
>>
>>20666988
Find Minna.

Knowing something about Frenchy's problems will help when we talk to her.
>>
>>20666988
Find our balls and then find Perrine.
>>
>>20666988
Find Perrine. Dealing with Minna is MC's job.
>>
>>20667023
yes me

i did
>>
>>20667023

Are they letting us post scandalous things behind spoiler tags?

/tg/ hasn't been as good since they cracked down on that. >.>
>>
>>20667016
And she doesn't like Perrine at all. She's the one who suggested we stuff her in the suit of armor, remember?

>>20666988
>Find Perrine

We Big Boy. We Solve Own Problems.
>>
>>20667048
Not that Ian knows this, but Perrine did start it, by being a bitch.
>>
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>>20667059
>Bitch

But the kids love her.
>>
>>20667044

>>20240062

No.
>>
>>20667074
That's because she doesn't treat them like shit.
>>
Minna

She knows what we need to know and knowing is half the battle.
>>
>>20667079

Damnit.

I miss /tg/ porn threads.
>>
>>20666988
Perrine.
>>
>>20667088
Letting them? No. Does that stop anyone? No.
>>
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>>20667103
Amen to that, brother.
>>
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oh god there is a thread
>>
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You contemplate looking for Minna, but... the last time you saw her she was haggard, stressed, sleepless, possibly hungover and - you're moderately sure - horny as hell. Your gut still aches where Young punched you in his half-assed attempt at lifesaving. The stupid bastard. You replay the sweet, sweet memory of that terminally-retarded knuckle-dragging simian being lit up like a goddman Christmas tree by Perrine, the avenging electric angel. After receiving the shock of your life, it does a body good to see a dumbass get one to match. There's comfort in company, which is why misery loves it so damn well.

Your meanderings take you to the central lobby of Castle Barin, with the vaulted ceilings and comfortable upholstery and electrical/microphone cables draped every-fucking-where, an abandoned podium still sitting in the middle of the floor. You hear somebody approaching from the other room. Moving quickly, you relocate a suit of display armor behind some drapes, and replace it yourself, appearing as one of the overly-gothic suits flaking the lobby entrance to the eastern wings of the castle.

From the hallway, you recognize the incoherent, drifting mutterings of your pilot friend, Young.

>We have to fuck with him. We can't not fuck with him!
>BUT HOW
>>
Perrine.
>>
>http://www.mediafire.com/?bzinbua70wbwk74
A banned panzer sends greetings
>>
>>20667138

now that'll put some hair on yer ass
>>
>>20667157
Hogtie him with microphone cables and leave him at the mercy of the next pantsu bitch, band of marines, or flag officer to come this way.
>>
>>20667166
What did he do?
>>
>>20667157
>>We have to fuck with him. We can't not fuck with him!
>>BUT HOW
We are a spooky ghost
>>
>>20667157
Jump out howling and firing our pistol

OR

Tell him Minna locked herself in the closet and wants him to get her out, then close the door behind him
>>
>>20667189
That won't work on Youngs, he's many things, most of them stupid, but easily scared isn't one of them.
>>
>>20667187
He was lewd in a non-lewd zone.
>>
>>20667157
I just heard Luchinni yapping on about how she met your parents and started talking about what a cute couple you and Minna make. Oh by the way your mother says she wants to talk to you.
>>
>>20667211
Ah.
>>
Hogtie, throw to reporters.

Are there still reporters?
>>
>>20667157
Wait...I've got it. He's expecting the armor to do something. We've done this like 6 times at this point. Don't jump out, just wait for him to walk by, and covertly stick a boot out.

Minor prank? Yes. But we've also got a mission.
>>
>>20667220
This much brass around? Yes, there's still reporters, but he's a slippery bastard. I'm not sure we could hogtie him if we wanted to.
>>
>>20667227
I could swear Ian's already done that...
>>
>>20667234
He has, Youngs won't go anywhere near the armor unless someone pushes him toward us.
>>
>>20667227
Set up the two suits of armour across from one another then throw something at him when he walks between them and fo in the opposite direction.
>>
rolled 5 = 5

>>20667157
Walk beside him, and make small talk. He'll be expecting something, and be paranoid as fuck, but we're just making conversation with a friend, aren't we? Nothing wrong with that.
>>
>>20667283
This will probably be the most successful. I think we should do this.
>>
>>20667283
Perfect
>>
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>>20667283
He'll *never* expect that.
>>
>>20667283
The best trolls are the ones that you didn't even try on.
>>
>>20667283
Yesssss....this pleases me.
>>
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"Ian?" you hear Young's voice query, and the squeak of dusty hinges. "Ian?" More squeaks. "God dammit Ian, come on out, I need to talk to you." Squeaks. "This is serious, goddammit."

Removing your helmet, you lean over just enough to peek down the hallway. Young's going from armor suit to armor suit, raising the visors and peering inside.

This gives you an idea.

With the minimum amount of clanking and squeaking possible, you return to the display armor you relocated and shift it over a few feet. Then you scrunch behind an overstuffed sofa - one of the replacements for the ones the Martian tele-bots ripped their way out of - and wait.

"Ian, god da...." you hear Young's voice trail off as he spots the hidden display suit lurking behind the drapes. He pauses, thinking, then you espy him strolling out the double doors on the front. There's some cheerful whistling, furtive scraping sounds, and a few minutes later, he walks back in with a huge, liberated brass door-knocker. He makes a beeline for the concealed suit of armor with that familiar ho-hum "I'm a frequent bastard" expression on his face.

Bastard.

He's just placing the door knocker against the armor, through the drapes, when you raise the microphone to your mouth and scream.
>>
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>>20667283
Knowing him, he'll be so paranoid about an impending trolling, that he'll end up trolling himself in under two minutes.

Perfect!
>>
>>20667355
Damn it, man. Hit "F5" more often.
>>
>>20667355
Ah, I see.
>>
>>20667355
OH GOD
>>
>>20667355
Damnit planefag, could you wait for the votes to tally once in a while...
>>
>>20667355
I not sure how this will go. Lets watch.
>>
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Woot! New thread!
>>
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oh boy oh boy
>>
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Young manages to leap like a startled baboon, complete with the hanging arms swinging about as he does a hilarious bent-kneed leap and the simian "hUAEHUAHEUEHUDAHEUWAT" gibbering. The sizable speaker, almost half his height, was perfectly positioned for maximum reverb and feedback squeal. In his airborne travels he makes rendezvous with the mock-up armor and the drapes, ending with the whole goddamn assembly coming down on his head, curtain-rod and all.

You stroll over casually as he manages to free himself. He espies you with one eye and flings the display suits tin helm at your face with considerable accuracy. It bounces off the real thing harmlessly.

You flip the visor up. "Sup."

"Help me up, asshole."

You reach out and grab his hand, pulling him up, upon which he produces a section of the curtain-rod from beneath the burgundy fabric and begins to whang your helmet angrily - until a clever twist of your hand lets the gauntlet slip off your hand completely, landing Young on his ass.

He flops back into the drapes, defeated. "What did I ever do to you?"

"Ooooh," you say with excitement, hurriedly trying to remove your leggings, so you can reach your pockets. "Hold on, I've got a list-"
>>
rolled 6 = 6

>>20667355
God dammit Planefag.
>>
>>20667462
>pic
>swing axles

ffuuuucckk that
never again
>>
noo thread >>20667603


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