File: The Rookie.png (519 KB, 700x1063)

519 KB PNG

>>33941045
You haven’t had lunch yet, so you are slightly hungry. You take your cup of hot tea from the table and take a sip. Of all the things that you could take to the 509th besides your finest and cutest trousers, it was your prized porcelain teacup. It was prized because it simply would not break. You weren’t sure it what it was, but the darn thing could survive falls that would render most cups into shards.

“Hey, Rookie!” Ah yes, the utter cacophony that was Lieutenant Rachel McCawlay and Lieutenant Daisy Walker. You were wondering what was missing from today. You turn your eyes to see them walk over to you, black thigh highs covering their supple shapely legs, and with baseball mitts in hand, they were up to something. “Want to play some ball with us?”

> “No, I’m busy.”
> “I don’t even know how to play baseball. Is it like cricket?”
> “Sure.”
> Write in

>>33941061
> “I don’t even know how to play baseball. Is it like cricket?”
I don't even know where we're from but this is still best choice.

>>33941061
> “Sure.”

>>33941061
> “I don’t even know how to play baseball. Is it like cricket?”

>>33941100
Obviously not Liberion.

>>33941061
> “I don’t even know how to play baseball. Is it like cricket?”
Perfect.

>>33941061
> “I don’t even know how to play baseball."
> “But sure.”

>>33941061
>“I don’t even know how to play baseball. Is it like cricket?”
Only right answer.

>>33941061
>> “I don’t even know how to play baseball. Is it like cricket?”
Cricket is the game of the refined.

>>33941061
> “I don’t even know how to play baseball. Is it like cricket?”
Rookie probably isn't good at Cricket anyway

>P-39 Airacobra
Wasn't this the one plane that because its center of gravity changed as it used ammunition, it would frequently spin/stall?

>>33941061
>“I don’t even know how to play baseball. Is it like cricket?”

Vaguely relevant youtube link
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dEH4ahCCrJo

File: rookiewitch2.png (1.53 MB, 1400x1400)

1.53 MB PNG

>>33941061
>> “Sure."

>>33941210
Well damn, that is great.

Green stripes. Not bad.

>>33941210
Interesting color choice
I like it

>>33941210
Love it anon! The style is pretty cool.

File: Major Stewart.jpg (11 KB, 236x306)

11 KB JPG

> “I don’t even know how to play baseball. Is it like cricket?”

You sigh, closing your book. “Lieutenants, I do not even know how to play baseball.” You smile at them though. Perhaps you can find some understanding. Your favorite sport of cricket is a bat-ball sport like theirs. “Is it anything like cricket?” you ask hopefully.

“The fuck is cricket?” asks Daisy. You deflate. Oh well.

“Look,” Rachel walks over and leans on the table, smirking. “We can teach you. Baseball is the national pastime of Liberion, next to eating apple pie and flying airplanes.” She points her thumb to herself, boastful. “Why, I tell you something, I can pitch like Ty Cobb and hit like Babe Ruth. My 12-6 pitch is pretty much unbeatable.”

You nod, smiling. “I have no idea what any of that is.” Rachel and Daisy glare at you. “Please!” You huff at them in return. “I only play a refined sport that is, say Football or Cricket!”

Daisy quirks her brow. “You think Football is refined?” She sizes you up. “You’re not even that big, how do you tackle people?”

“You don’t tackle people in Football!” you say. Are these two dense?

“I think she’s talking about soccer,” says Rachel.

“Whatever, you’re missing out, Rookie!” says Daisy. “The crackerjack! The lumber sending a clothesline through the field! Stealing the bases and sliding home! That’s baseball! It’s exciting!”

You cross your arms. “Hmph. Not as exciting as cricket.”

With that, Major Stewart walks over. “Hey there, Sergeant. Lieutenants.” Daisy and Rachel smile at him. “What’s all the hubbub?”

> “Oh, nothing you would be interested in, Major.”
> “Actually, Major, I wanted to talk to you about an idea I had for extending my range.”
> “We were talking about baseball, Major.”
> Write in

>>33941448
> “We were talking about baseball, Major.”

>>33941448
>> “We were talking about baseball, Major.”
So Rookie has a home country now?

>>33941448
> "We were talking about baseball, Major."

>>33941448
>“We were talking about baseball, Major.”

>"We were talking about baseball, Major."

Does this result in a magical transnational baseball game? Because I am okay with that.

>>33941448
>> “We were talking about baseball, Major.”

>>33941179

>The weight distribution of the P-39 was supposedly the reason for its tendency to enter a dangerous flat spin, a characteristic Soviet test pilots were able to demonstrate to the skeptical manufacturer who had been unable to reproduce the effect. After extensive tests, it was determined the spin could only be induced if the aircraft was improperly loaded, with no ammunition in the front compartment. The flight manual noted a need to ballast the front ammunition compartment with the appropriate weight of shell casings to achieve a reasonable center of gravity. High-speed controls were light, consequently high-speed turns and pull-outs were possible. The P-39 had to be held in a dive since it tended to level out, reminiscent of the Spitfire. The recommended never-exceed dive speed limit (Vne) was 475 mph (764 km/h) for the P-39.[35]

>>33941488
I think it's still technically anywhere that used the airacobra, other than Liberion.

>>33941448
> “We were talking about baseball, Major.”

>>33941681
The French initially ordered a bunch of Airacobras from Bell, but then the Germans marched in before a single one could be delivered. Bell still wanted to get the aircraft off their hands because they needed money, so the RAF offered to take 200 of them, which they immediately regretted.

>>33941681
Well, being a Cricket and Football(soccer) fan kinda narrows it down a bit, right?

>>33941705
Definitely not Liberion anymore, somewhere in Europe I think or whatever the SW version is called, I never watched the actual series

File: rach and danny.jpg (86 KB, 850x499)

86 KB JPG

> “We were talking about baseball, Major.”

You smile at the good Major. Major Stewart was quite possibly one of the most interesting men you have met. An actor from a military family, plays the accordion like a master, and a natural pilot. You don’t blame the fact that Vera, Daphne, Karen, and Carla all have quite the precocious crush on him. If your attention weren’t already diverted to Commander Bucholz, you’d much settle for Major Stewart. “The Lieutenants were just talking to me about baseball, Major Stewart.”

“Ah,” he nods, smiling. “I see. You know, my father used to take me to the old ball park back in Indiana. Some of the best fun I had as a kid, Sergeant.”

Rachel smiles at him. “Would you be willing to play a game with us?”

“WOULD WE?” Major Stewart’s co-pilot, Captain Hank Merrill, slides in. “I’m a born natural at the game, I’d be willing to show you little girls a trick or two.”

Major Stewart chuckles. “Hank here is a good fan of the sport, knows it better than I do.”

Rachel and Daisy size up Captain Merrill. “Oh?” says Rachel. “Is that so?”

“Well…” Captain Merrill grins, rubbing his hands. “I happened to teach a little bit of little league before the war, took my little brother to his games too. I ain’t no Major League but I certainly ain’t nothing to shake a stick at, young lady.”

“Hmph. How about a game then? The whole nine yards and innings. You take your crew, we take ours, winner gets to paint some art on the losers plane, and it will be your plane, Captain,” says Daisy. Rachel smiles, crossing her arms.

Oh boy. This isn’t going to be fun. You’re going to be conscripted.

[1/2]

>>33941882
[2/2]

Major Stewart laughs. “Well, it’d certainly take the boys mind off things before the dance tonight.”

Captain Merrill shakes Rachel’s hand. “Fine! We’ll meet you out in the field in a couple of hours. Go ahead and get your girls together.” He pats Major Stewart on the back and heads back to the “Witchcraft”, as does Major Stewart.

“Right,” says Rachel. “I just realized that me and Daisy are the only ones who know how to play baseball to any extent. Rookie, go get the girls.”

“But-“ You hold up the B-24 Field Manual. “I’m studying!” Rachel takes the manual and tosses it away.

“Too bad, you’re running errands today, go get the girls!” says Rachel.

You sigh.

> Daphne and Vera are probably back at the barracks.
> Carla and Karen are training out in the fields.
> Commander Bucholz is up at the Comm tower speaking with Colonel Cutter
> Write in

>>33941906
> Daphne and Vera are probably back at the barracks.
So if/when they lose whose strikers are getting dicks all over them?

>>33941906
>> Daphne and Vera are probably back at the barracks.

>>33941906
>> Daphne and Vera are probably back at the barracks.

>>33941906
>Carla and Karen are training out in the fields.
We haven't had enough of those two.

>>33941906
> Daphne and Vera are probably back at the barracks.
The commander wouldn't want to be interrupted with this kind of frivolity. She'll probably give us a right lashing for this kind of slacking off. Bueno.

>>33941906
> Daphne and Vera are probably back at the barracks.

>>33941962
Rachel or Daisy, they got us into this.

>>33941906
>> Commander Bucholz is up at the Comm tower speaking with Colonel Cutter

whosbeendrawingdicks.mp3

>>33941906
> Carla and Karen are training out in the fields.
Wanna see more of these chicks.

>>33941728
Pretty sure it's still Europe, the country names (and sometimes the borders) changed but I don't think that did.

>>33941705
It does make Britannia or a Commonwealth nation sound more likely, but it's not definitive.

[x] Get infected with heterosexuality, sob

File: Daphne Fairbanks.jpg (164 KB, 595x832)

164 KB JPG

> Daphne and Vera are probably back at the barracks.

You open up the door to the barracks. Vera is still slumbering soundly thanks in no small part to her duty as a Night Witch. Before you do anything else, Daphne “Foobs” Fairbanks steps out of the bathroom, her hair and body wet and covered in only a thin towel. “Oh, Rookie darling!” she smiles at you. “I hope you didn’t wake with no due fuss to your hair?” she says as she walks over to her footlocker.

You shake your head. “Yeah, thank you, Daphne. Listen, Lieutenant McCawlay is getting the squadron together so we can play a game of baseball with Major Stewart’s crew.”

“Really!?” she gasps, stars in her eye. “A game with Major James Stewart?” She squeals happily, you quickly tie her towel in place before it can fall off her bouncing body. “Oh, I’d love to, darling! But I haven’t the faintest idea how to play baseball.” She opens her footlocker and pulls out her good white trousers. “Is it anything like cricket?”

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Hmph,” she pouts. “Liberions, always stealing from the Britannians.”

“Aren’t you from Faraway Land?”

“Maybe,” she says quickly. “But that is irrelevant. I will join you in your quest to play baseball.”

You smile. “Thanks, Daphne.” You look over at Vera. Hm. How do you get her to wake up?

> POTS AND PANS, TIME TO WAKE UP YOU LITTLE SHIT
> Gently nudge her and request her help
> Eh, leave her. You can find someone else.
> Write in

>>33942280
>> Gently nudge her and request her help
then
> Rock her not gently until she wakes up

>>33942280
> Gently nudge her and request her help
If only we were Trudy

>>33942280
> Lift her onto our back and carry her out.

>>33942280
>Rock her bed and shout with Daphne pretending the earth-quake of the century is happening.

>>33942280
>> Eh, leave her. You can find someone else.
She's Russian and has important duties.

>>33942280
> Gently nudge her and request her help
While a sleep deprived magical Orussian is unlikely to be useful for baseball, and also somewhat terrifying, if she doesn't want to she can say no and I don't want her to feel left out.

> Gently nudge her and request her help

You bend over and nudge her shoulder. “Vera?” She grumbles a bit in Orussian, retreating into the safety of her pillow and blanket. “Vera, I don’t suppose you could come help us play baseball?”

Daphne leans over, blinking as she watches you tame the Orussian Night Witch. “She’s out like a light, darling.”

Vera opens her eyes. “Ugh… the hell is baseball?” She turns over, glaring at you two. You back off a bit, intimidated. She asks, “Is it anything like cricket?”

“No, I assume not,” you say. “But would you be willing to play with us?”

Vera smacks her lips, then sighs. “Eh… what’s in it for me?”

> What’s in it for her?

>>33942642

She can touch the the glorious drill

>>33942642
>The joy of communal activity and bonding. No? Pity.
>Well, any suggestions? I'm not doing your chores for a month or whatever.

>>33942642
Someone could owe her a favor, take over some chores for here sometime so she could sleep longer

>>33942642
> Um... you can touch my hair?
I really don't know, mate.

>>33942642
See if she like some chocolate and/or ice cream.

>>33942642
> The joy of playing and sweating along with fellow friends and colleagues.

>>33942642
>"Beating those upstart Americans at their own game, of course!"

>>33942642
>There will be sweaty guys and gals
>Surely at least one of those things must pique your interest.

>>33942642
> "What do you want? Other than going back to sleep, I mean."

>>33942642
Team building! Friendship! Sweaty sports time with the major and his crew!

> What’s in it for her?

You smile. “The joy of communal activities with sweaty handsome men and sweaty beautiful girls!” Vera looks at you blankly. “Or… you can touch my hair?” You offer your hair to her. Lord in heaven, don’t let her cut it off, that’d be terrible. Vera still looks at you blankly. “Oh come on, don’t you want to play with us and the Major?”

Vera blinks. “Major Stewart?” She sits up. “You mean Major Stewart right?”

Daphne nods. “Yeah, we’re playing against his crew.”

Vera chews on her knuckle, thinking. “Mmm…” She sighs. “Fine, get me my cutest trousers, Foobs.”

You smile. “Alright then!” You pat Vera on the head as you stand up. “Glad to have you, Vera.”

Now what?

> Talk to Vera
> Talk to Daphne
> Carla and Karen are training out in the fields.
> Commander Bucholz is up at the Comm tower speaking with Colonel Cutter
> Write in

She gets to learn how to play baseball

>>33942918
>> Carla and Karen are training out in the fields.
Still need that full team

>>33942918
>> Carla and Karen are training out in the fields.

>>33942918
> Commander Bucholz is up at the Comm tower speaking with Colonel Cutter

>>33942918
> Talk to Vera (I didn't think you had a thing for handsome older gentlemen)
> Carla and Karen are training out in the fields.

Save best for last.

>>33942918
>Write-in
We need to wear a pair of trousers than we can do sports in without flashing anyone, that we don't mind getting sweaty, but are also still cute.

>>33942918
>Carla and Karen are training out in the fields.

>>33942941
I don't think we know how many people we even need.

>>33943019
All of them, of course. We'll need a goalie, some midfielders, Karen'd probably make for a good forward...

>>33943044
We're playing baseball, not football

Go fuck yourself german

>>33943086
But we don't know how to play baseball...

>>33943213
Oh, right.

>>33943148
Wow, that was uncalled for.

>>33943213
Don't worry, anon, I got the joke.

> Carla and Karen are training out in the fields.

“Alright, Karen.” Carla and Karen out in the open fields near the runway, where they have a table with various explosives like the M2 60mm mortar round, the Mark Two Frag Grenade, the Stielhandgranate, and the 88mm GrW mortar round. “We have various explosives here that you are expected to use in combat against Neuroi. Your task in essence is to put a lot of ordnance down on them such that they can’t regenerate or that you break a core with a precisely aimed grenade or round.”

Karen nods, quickly taking notes in Fusonese. She quickly adjusts her big round glasses as she writes them down. Carla continues to explain, “Now, first things first, we’ll get your eye in with a practice toss.” She bends over and picks up a rock. “There, toss that, see how far it goes.”

Karen nods as she takes the rock, and as hard as she can, she tosses it overhand into the sky.

And it comes back down not three meters away.

…

“Um.” Carla blinks as Karen becomes a bit gloomy. “W-We can work on your throw. Just go pick it back up for me.” Karen does a girly run over to the rock, only to trip and fall flat on her face. Carla sighs, rubbing her nose.

“Hey,” you say as you walk over. Carla smiles at you.

“Ah, Rookie!” She slaps both your arms with a wide grin. “It’s nice to see you!”

> “I’m here to recruit you for a baseball game.”
> “How’s Karen doing with her training?”
> “What’s with all the mortar rounds?”
> Write in

>>33943387
> “How’s Karen doing with her training?”
> “I’m here to recruit you for a baseball game.”
How's about it?

>>33943387
> “I’m here to recruit you for a baseball game.”
Highland Games?

>>33943367
Unless they wanted to see selfcest, in which case I suppose it's a compliment.

>>33943387
> “I’m here to recruit you for a baseball game.”
> “What’s with all the mortar rounds?”
This is safe right?

BASEBALL WITH MORTAR ROUNDS

>>33943387
>Can we fire mortars from the sky?

>>33943387
>> “I’m here to recruit you for a baseball game.”
>> “How’s Karen doing with her training?”
We should invest in an AA mortar.

>>33943387
> “I’m here to recruit you for a baseball game.”
And we ain't taking no for an answer!

>>33943387
>> “I’m here to recruit you for a baseball game.”

> “I’m here to recruit you for a baseball game.”

You cross your arms. “I’m just here to see if you all will come play baseball with us.”

“Really?” asks Carla. “You know how to play baseball?” You shake your head. “Well I will tell you something, Rookie, it’s nothing like cricket. If anything, baseball is boring.”

You sigh. “Will you just come play with us. Major Stewart will be playing.”

Karen slides in, her eyes wide. “Stewart-sama is playing!?” Carla too looks a bit surprised at that. You nod. “Eeeee!” Karen happily bounces in place, talking to herself in Fusonese.

Carla laughs. “Ha! I suppose we shall you join you for this auspicious endeavor then, if only to see if Major Jimmy will notice us.” She slaps you on the back. “But, fare in fretta! Let’s go, shall we? Karen! We’ll do more training later after tomorrow’s mission!”

Thusly, Karen and Carla pack up the explosives and take them with them as they follow you to the field. Perhaps the Lieutenants have already picked up Commander Bucholz at this point. Carla says, “So, Rookie, do you look forward to the dance tonight?” She snaps her finger, giving you a sultry grin. “Perhaps you will find yourself dancing with a handsome airman or two?”

“Ohoho~.” You giggle a bit. “Please, Carla. The only person I feel worthy of my dancing skills is Commander Bucholz. I reckon it will be a romantic thing between her and I, and we’ll dance ‘til the sun comes up!”

Carla narrows her eyes, pensive. “Ah, I see, I see. Well, good luck with that.”

[1/2]

File: maxine bucholz.jpg (137 KB, 354x800)

137 KB JPG

>>33943890
[2/2]

With that done, you arrive at the field. A huge bunch of airmen and soldiers are already gathered around to watch. The crew of the Witchcraft, including Major Stewart, huddle around one end of the improvised playing field, while the 509th hangs around the other. “Ah, Rookie, you brought Carla and Karen!” You nod, then look over at Commander Bucholz.

Commander Bucholz pulls a bit on her glove. “Ah, Sergeant. Good to see you.” You beam at that. “The Lieutenants convinced me to play on the basis that baseball is similar to cricket.” YES, SHE LIKES CRICKET.

Rachel says, “Anyway. We’ve got eight people, we’re short one but I think we can roll with this.”

Suddenly, a tire screech is heard behind you. You all turn to see the Jeep Jockey, excited. “Hey, you girls need a 9th player?! I’m your man!”

> “You’re right. I think we’re good with eight.”
> “Go away, Jeep Jockey.”
> “Fine, you can play with us.”
> Write in

>>33943914
>> “Fine, you can play with us.”
I'm pretty he's the only other person that knows how to play anyway

>>33943914
>We need 9 players?

>>33943914
> “Fine, you can play with us. You can be mid wicket."

>>33943914
>“Fine, you can play with us.”
As much as I want to bully the Jeep Jockey, in the interests of winning and not appearing tsun, he can join in.

>everyone comapring cricket favourable to baseball
Aw yiss.

>>33943914
> “You’re right. I think we’re good with eight.”
fuckin' JJ

>>33943914
> “Fine, you can play with us.”

>>33943890
>>Carla narrows her eyes, pensive. “Ah, I see, I see. Well, good luck with that.”
She does not ship it. She knows the commander is straight/ taken/ strict about fraternization and rookie has no chance.

>>33944089
How tragic

>>33944044

Perfect.

>>33944115
Either Rookie will become an officer, or she'll leave the service and become a housewife to the Commander. That way it won't be fraternization.

>>33943914
> “Fine, you can play with us.”
> "But you better pull your weight!"

Anyone else convinced Jeep Jockey has a crush on us?

>>33944232
Nah, more like sibling bickery. [s]Get your het goggles off.[/s]

>>33944232
I'd hope not for his sake.
Maybe some other eligible gal in the 509th?

> “Fine, you can play with us.”

You all die a little inside as the Jeep Jockey walks over. Rachel says, “Fine, fine, you can join us, Jeep Jockey. You got a leather?”

The Jeep Jockey smiles, holding up a well-worn baseball mitt. “Never leave home without it.”

You sigh, crossing your arms. “Well, you can play mid wicket then, Rookie.”

The Jeep Jockey tilts his head at you. “The fuck is mid wick-“

“Alright,” says Rachel. “Here’s the defensive positions. I’m pitching.”

“Daisy. You’re first base.”

“Bucky. You’re second base.”

“Carla. You’re shortstop.” Carla raises her hand. “That’s the position between third and second.” Carla lowers her hand.

“Foobs. You’re third.”

“Vera, you’re center field. Don’t fall asleep.” Rachel snaps her fingers to rouse Vera. Vera immediately salutes in understanding.

“Rookie, you’re left field.”

“Karen, you’re right field.”

“And Jeep Jockey-“

The Jeep Jockey says, “That’s not my name-“

“No one cares. You’re catcher.”

The Jeep Jockey is indignant. “Why do I have to be the catcher?”

Rachel smirks at him. “Gee, I figure you’d already have experience being a catcher!” Daisy and Rachel laugh at that. Commander Bucholz slaps Rachel up the head. “Ah, okay, okay. But you’re still catcher.” The Jeep Jockey rolls his eyes. “Now, Major Jimmy’s team is at bat. Augie Donatelli from the Hell’s Belles is our umpire. First inning should be quick and easy.” Rachel looks at you. “Rookie, think you can handle it?”

> “Where’s left field?”
> “This is like cricket, right?”
> “Ohoho, of course I can!”
> Write in

>>33944302
> “This is like cricket, right?”
> "Uh, I mean-Ohoho, of course I can!”

>>33944302
>> “Ohoho, of course I can!”
> “This is like cricket, right?”
> “Where’s left field?”

At least we didn't get right field! Little League has taught me that's where the worst players go

>>33944302
>> “Where’s left field?”
>"Whose left?"

>>33944265
Sorry, I'm a hetfag. I know, wrong thread etc. But it's what I am.

>>33944302
>> “Ohoho, of course I can!”
> “Where’s left field?”

>>33944302
> “Ohoho, of course I can!”
> “Where’s left field?”
That way right?

>>33944339
Ditto.

>>33944302
> “This is like cricket, right?”
> "Uh, I mean-Ohoho, of course I can!”

>>33944321
THat's where I played.

>>33944302
> “This is like cricket, right?”
We can't fail!

>>33944302
>> “Ohoho, of course I can!”
>> “Where’s left field?
Poor Jeep Jockey.

>>33944456

Can't win 'em all I guess

Pitcher and shortstop were where the good kids played I remember.

>>33944512
Jeep Jockey gets the best view though. He should be thanking us.

>>33944570
I kind of sucked, to be honest. My dad knocking off my fingernail when I was five scarred me for life.

>>33944621
Actually, Rookie does. She's behind second base.

>>33944753

That's center field anon.

> A little bit of everything.

You smile. “Ohoho, of course I can! This is probably like cricket, right?” Rachel and Daisy shake their heads, judgmental. “Oh, well, okay.” You look out to the field. “So… where’s left field?” Rachel points away from the improvised diamond and out, way out in fact. You smile wider. “Ah, okay!” You grab a spare mitt from Rachel and head out as the rest of the team disperses into their positions.

You sigh, bending over, occasionally beating into your leather mitt. Augie Donatelli, a huge portly man yells, “PLAY BAAAALLL!” You fire a .50 Caliber machine gun by your ear many times without incident. Explosions and other loud noises are regular to you. THAT was enough to hurt your ear.

The batting order is as follows.

Major Jimmy Stewart: Pilot.
Captain Hank Merrill: Co-Pilot.
Lieutenant George Hewitt: Bombardier.
Sergeant James Pulaski: Flight Engineer.
Sergeant Walter Matthau: Radio Operator.
Sergeant Paul Richardson: Left Waist.
Sergeant Wyatt Roselli: Right Waist.
Sergeant Edward M. Shames: Ball Turret
Sergeant Peter “Ack-Ack” Waller: Tail Turret

Their navigator, Lieutenant Wyatt DeSoto was absent, instead simply standing on the side, watching grimly.

Major Jimmy Stewart heads up to bat. “Alright, I’m gonna ask you girls to go easy on me, I haven’t played a game in a while.” Rachel bends over, ready to give the ball a go. Major Stewart preps the bat.

With that, Rachel winds up the ball and gives it a good throw. Jimmy swings, and the ball cracks against the lumber and goes sailing into the sky. Over you in fact. “ROOKIE! CATCH IT!” screams Rachel. You look over to see Vera, who’s running after the ball.

> Go after the Ball
> Let Vera catch it
> Write in

>>33944753
Yes, but Jeep Jockey is down behind the batter, where the major will be, a view half the wing would kill for and one he will not appreciate in the slightest.

>>33944753
But Jeep Jockey gets to see everyone. And all their bits. I speak from experience.

>>33944802
>Go after the Ball
Rachel said so and she knows what she's doing, what could go wrong? I'm so sorry Vera.

>>33944802
>> Go after the Ball

>>33944802
> Go after the Ball
Trust our team-mates, they wouldn't steer us wrong!

>>33944802
> Go after the Ball
This is going to be painfully sexy.

>>33944802
>> Go after the Ball
Vera stop
pls
don't crash into each other

>Awesome simultaneous high-five-ball-sanwich catch
>followed by momentum-induced headbutt and dropped ball

>>33944802
> Go after the Ball
Collision imminent...

>>33944802
>Go after the Ball
>Shout, "I got it"

>>33944802
>> Go after the Ball

> Go after the Ball

You sprint, holding your glove in the air, trying to keep your eye on the ball AND AH DAMN IT THE SUN-

With a crash and a hard knock to the head, you’re lying on the ground, at least you think you are. You groan a bit, holding your head. Oh, the ball, where’s the ball!? You look in your glove. It’s not there.

“Mmf!” You look down. Oh. Vera’s face is planted right between your breasts. “Get off me.”

You sit up, and let Vera take in the fresh air and hold up her glove. The ball rests in the leather.

The 509th cheers you both as Major Stewart’s run is slowed to a crawl. The airmen cheer and applause, even Jimmy smiles as he comes to walk back to his crew.

Then Augie Donatelli throws down a wooden chair next to him, shattering it into a million pieces. “YOU’RE OUT!” he screams. Major Stewart doesn’t even flinch.

…

…

It’s the bottom of the fourth inning. No points yet for either team. The spectating airmen and soldiers take bets on who might win, most going in favor of the crew of the Witchcraft. You don’t blame them. Karen unfortunately hasn’t been much help since their best hitter, Roselli, is left handed. You only barely managed a double play in the third inning to get their loaded bases out.

You’re at bat now. Rachel and Daisy are already on second and first respectively. You sigh as you grip the bat. You look down at the catcher, Ack-Ack, who blushes heavily as he keeps his eyes forward. He must have quite the view.

The pitcher, James Pulaski, smirks at you. “Hey, tell you what, I’ll make this easy on you. Alright?” You huff. As if. He winds up the ball and throws.

> Don’t swing
> SWING WITH ALL YOUR WITCH MIGHT
> Bunt
> Write in

>>33945211
>> SWING WITH ALL YOUR WITCH MIGHT
Incoming fake out

>>33945211
>Swing hard enough for a double.
Save your home run swing for when you've already got a strike, silly-head!

>>33945211
> Wiggle our tush to distract Ack-Ack, then bunt.

>>33945211
>MAXIMUM POWER
Please don't hit Bucholz

>>33945211
>> Bunt
Two can play at this game.

>>33945211
> Bunt
eh

>>33945211
> SWING WITH ALL YOUR WITCH MIGHT
The ball will still be intact right?

>>33945211
>Bunt

> Bunt

You bring the bat around, letting the ball plink on it and start bouncing in the diamond. You start sprinting for first as everyone shouts and screams. “Get it, get it!” Pulaski runs over and catches it, and in one smooth motion and throws his body around to toss the ball to third. Richardson catches it and tags Rachel out. He passes it to Shortstop George Hewitt, tagging Daisy out, and he passes it to Major Stewart on first.

And he tags you out. A full three outs. The Witchcraft crew cheers.

“Sorry,” says Major Stewart with that goofy grin of his. You can’t not love it.

Another chair is thrown down by Augie Donatelli. “YOU’RE OUT!” he screams. Of all the Neuroi you’ve faced, even the one who used sonic blasts to destroy buildings at the Academy, you’ve never faced anybody as loud as Augie Donatelli.

…

…

Bottom of the ninth. Karen has just gotten the second out, leaving you and you alone on second. Daphne is up at bat. The crew of the Witchcraft scored two runs in the fifth inning, but you scored two as well in the seventh to tie it up. It’s all down to this. Commander Bucholz’s eyes are on you squarely.

Oh boy, you’re feeling the pressure.

The second baseman, Hank Merrill happily says, “Welp. You ready to have your Striker covered in dicks? Because we are covering all of your Strikers in dicks.”

You glare at him. He laughs it off.

Daphne swings. “STRIKE ONE!” Daphne swings again. “STRIKE TWO!” And again. “BALL ONE!” This is going to get annoying.

> Steal second.
> Remain where you are, Daphne will come through.
> Write in

>>33945655
>> Remain where you are, Daphne will come through.
Come on you can do it

>>33945655
>> Remain where you are, Daphne will come through.

>>33945655
> Remain where you are, Daphne will come through.
Of course.

>>33945655
>> Remain where you are, Daphne will come through.

>>33945655
> Steal second.
Gotta impress the Commander! And I knew we should have wiggled our bum before bunting.

Why is a game of baseballs so tense, damnit!

>>33945655
> Steal second.
Yeah!

>>33945655
>> Steal second.

>>33945655
>Bunting with 2 runners on and 2 outs.

Hit the showers, Rookie, you disgust me. You don't deserve those drills.

> Steal second.

> Remain where you are, Daphne will come through.

You grit your teeth.

“BALL TWO!” screams Donatelli. Daphne kicks at the ground as she winds the bat up again for another pass at the ball.

“Come on, Foobs!” yells Ack-Ack. “End this already.”

Daphne says something indistinctly. You could swear it was, “I will.”

Pulaski gives Daphne a heater, a real hell of a fastball. You could swear there were flames coming off the ball as it traveled. And she hit it. Daphne “Foobs” Fairbanks hit the ball hard past shortstop and out towards left outfield. This is your chance. You start sprinting. “RUN!” yells Rachel. The rest of the 509th yell for you to run. Even Commander Bucholz looks at you concernedly. It’s only a dozen meters or so, but to you now, it feels like a thousand. Daphne makes it safely to first.

And you make it past second. Keep running. Keep running. Keep running. Most go faster. Don’t look back, don’t look back. SLIIIIIDE. The dust kicks up as you slide to home plate, right as the ball comes sailing into Ack-Ack’s glove. Everything seems to come to a halt.

…

“SAFE!” screams Donatelli. The crew of the Witchcraft walk off the field, laughing. The diamond is ablaze with applause and cheering as the 509th hug and give each other high fives. They immediately come to swarm you. Commander Bucholz herself gives you the biggest hug she can.

“You did it, Sergeant!” she says.

> “Of course I did!”
> “What did I do!?”
> “It wasn’t me! It was Daphne!”
> Write in

>>33946015
>>“What did I do!?”
>>“It wasn’t me! It was Daphne!”

>>33946015
>“It wasn’t me! It was Daphne!”
Hug the Daphne, she can even ruffle our hair after a hit like that.

>>33946015
> “What did I do!?”
> Enjoy hug for all it's worth.
Rookie's gonna get her week's worth in this hug.

>>33946015
>> “What did I do!?”

>>33946015
> “Of course I did!”
> “What did I do!?”

>>33946015
>“It wasn’t me! It was Daphne!”
> Hug the Commander back, though. Praises!

>>33946015
>> “It wasn’t me! It was Daphne!”
But enjoy Commander hugs anyway. Resist the urge to cop a feel.

>>33946015
> “It wasn’t me! It was Daphne!”
Fail to resist urge to cop feel.

>>33946015
>> “Of course I did!”
>> “What did I do!?”

>>33946015
>> “Of course I did!”
>> “What did I do!?”
>> Write in: A noblewoman's laugh

>>33946015
> “Of course I did!”
She knows cricket, I think she gets the concept of runs.

> “What did I do!?”
> “It wasn’t me! It was Daphne!”

You laugh. “Ohoho~, it wasn’t me! What did I do!? It was Daphne, it was all her!”

Daphne runs over after running all the bases. “We did it! Cheers all around! Whoohoo!” She sighs, bending over and panting as the rest of the 509th hug and swarm her. “Ah, shucks, don’t make me blush everybody!”

Rachel says, “I’m proud of you all, all of you! I honestly didn’t think we’d make it but holy siht we did it!” You slap hands with Daisy and Rachel. “Nice job, Rook. And nice job, Foobs! You all did great!”

Major Stewart and crew walk over, and the good sportsmanship show of shaking hands with the opposing team begins. You shake hands with everyone, all of them. The big right waist gunner Roselli in particular has quite the strong grip, oh boy. Major Stewart says, “Good game, all of you.”

Commander Bucholz nods. “Of course, Major. As you can see, my girls are no stranger to sports.”

Captain Merrill rubs the back of his head, humbled a bit. “Clearly. That’ll teach me to think girls can’t play baseball.” The three of them laugh at that. “Anyway, we’ll see you at the dance tonight, right, Commander?”

“Of course, to celebrate the Bomb Group’s second anniversary, yes?” They both nods. “I will wear my finest dress uniform.”

Captain Merrill smirks. “Eh, I’d prefer a dress.” He coughs a bit as Bucholz gives him an unamused look. “Ah, ma’am.”

[1/2]

>>33946468
[2/2]

…

…

As the sun sets down, all of you except for Commander Bucholz freshen up in the barracks. A bit of make-up is applied, trousers are tossed and worn and then promptly tossed, and medals are pinned as well. You look over at Lieutenant McCawlay’s chest, not at it per say, but the medals upon it. “Lieutenant,” you say. “I must say, you are well-decorated.”

Rachel nods as she adjusts Daisy’s collars. “It’s the same with Daisy. We’ve seen a lot of action.” She points to one on Daisy’s chest. “That one we got for the Fuso Sea, that one for Pearl Harbor, that one for most kills with Claire’s Tigers.” Rachel points to another medal on her chest. “And this one, this one I got for flying with the Eagle Squadron, Daisy doesn’t have that one actually.” She looks at the medal on your breast. “I must say, I like yours, Rook.”

You only have one medal upon your chest, the one you were awarded for the Academy action. Which one was it?

> Gallian Legion of Honour
> Britannian Distinguished Service Order
> Karlsland Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross
> Write in

>>33946488
Gallian

>>33946488
> Gallian Legion of Honour
I don't actually know who this is though

>>33946488
> Gallian Legion of Honour
Sure

>>33946488
> Gallian Legion of Honour

>>33946488
>> Gallian Legion of Honour

>Karlsland Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross

>>33946488
> Britannian Distinguished Service Order
We play cricket after all.

>>33946488
>> Britannian Distinguished Service Order

>>33946488
> Gallian Legion of Honour
>>33946515
It's basically determining our character's nationality.

>>33946488
>tfw need to come up with a medal if I want to write-in
O-oh I didn't want any other countries anyway.

>>33946515

Wouldn't 'Gallian' be France? Like 'Gallic', or 'the Gauls'? You know, 'All Gaul is occupied, except for one small village'...anyway

>>33946597
I meant I don't know what countries are what, I looked it up though, Not France in fine by me

>>33946622
Yeah. France is more hardcore in SW, though. Really, the French Resistance were pretty hardcore in WWII.

>>33946671
Everyone's pretty hardcore in SW really.

>>33946685
Except China because thy aren't anywhere in the cannon.

>>33946734
China's a funny thing I will admit because there are two maps. One of which has the entire landmass of China and most of the middle east replaced with ocean and the other completely intact.

For some reason, North Liberion looks like a giant star but that's least craziest thing about the Strike Witches universe.

>>33946488
> Britannian Distinguished Service Order
But we need to do more ribbing of the Fre^h^h^h Gallians.

>>33946774
>For some reason, North Liberion looks like a giant star but that's least craziest thing about the Strike Witches universe.
This is always something I wondered about

>>33946774
I just always assumed it was because of Japans knee jerk reaction to completely ignore anything with WWII and China in it.

>>33946774
>>33946786
>>33946843

Neuroi ate it.

> Gallian Legion of Honour

You quickly dust off the Gallian medal. The Legion of Honour, one of the highest of not the highest award the Gallian nation can award you. Mind you, the Academy wasn’t a Gallian School but the Gallian Admiral, a man named Muselier, took note of your actions and put you in for the medal. And well, here you are.

“Neat story,” says Rachel. “You know, the only person in this Wing I think who doesn’t have a medal of some kind is probably Karen.”

Karen’s bare chest (yes, she’s clothed) is indeed quite lacking in many departments, medals being one of them. She stutters a bit trying to defend herself, “W-Well, I am new to being a witch! I have not managed to distinguish myself!”

“Ahaha!” Rachel slaps her knee. “Relax, Karen. War isn’t all about getting medals. It’ll come.” Karen smiles at that, and Carla encouragingly pats her shoulder to reassure her.

> Talk to a member of the Wing (Specify)
> Continue freshening up
> Head to the Dance
> Write in

>>33946904
>> Talk to a member of the Wing (Specify)
Let's talk to Daphne

>>33946904
> Talk to a member of the Wing (Specify)
Let's chat with Carla because I can't remember shit about her which means she needs screentime.

>>33946626
Gallia = France
Britannian = England
Karlsland = Germany
Orussia = Soviet Union
Fuso = Japanese Empire
Suomus = Finland
Romagna = Italy
Liberion = USA

The list goes on, but only those are important.

>>33946904
>Talk to a member of the Wing (Specify)
Karen, she's the most new of the other wing members IIRC, I want to know if she got the Rookie treatment when she joined.

>>33946940
>Orussia
That's really clever that

>>33946904
> Talk to a member of the Wing (Specify)
Not fussed which, maybe Carla/Karen.

>>33946904
>Continue freshening up

>on Karen's medals
Well, Lynne doesn't have any medals either and she's been in the 501st for a while.

>>33946904
> Talk to a member of the Wing (Karen)

>>33946958
Canada is "Farawayland".

>>33946904
>> Write in
Go stare at the Witchcraft for a bit more, see if you get any inspiration.

>>33946940
http://strikewitches.wikia.com/wiki/Category:Nations

That's a list, but it is a wiki, so who knows what's accurate.

>>33946894
Just assuming it's 'because Neuroi' or 'because witches' is a pretty reliable way to guess the reasoning behind SW fluff stuff.

>>33947012
>Kiwiland
Really

>>33946904
>> Head to the Dance

>>33947071
It's the same series with "Orussia". But now I'm thinking of tanned tribal Witches...

>>33947143
The girl from South Africa in canon is rather hot...

>>33947143
Tanned tribal witch x Rookie OTP.

File: 1403584836314.png (995 KB, 1024x600)

995 KB PNG

>>33947143

>>33947071
Oh my now i get it. Strike witches is a colassal joke that someone is making fat stacks off of. Its all a big joke.

I was mad because how the fuck would those plane legs not smash into each other when they are flying and theres no way those girly legs have enough muscle to keep them apart for flight. Also i saw a bomber sw picture with tiny tiny bombs and was wondering what was even the point of that but now that ive read more and learned theres a kiwiland. That cjanges everything. The whole franchise is just one colassal joke!

>>33947218
It literally grew out of one guy saying "I want to draw planes as cute girls". It's not a serious setting, buddy.

>>33947218
The answer to all of your questions is "Magic"

>>33947218
Not a joke, just fun.

I mean, not only are they cute plane girls, but scantily clad cute plane girls in uniforms, with animal ears, firing machine-guns.

They just piled a bunch of appealing characteristics together and had fun with it.

> Talk to a member of the Wing (Karen and Carla)

Carla says, “Oh, do not worry your pretty little head, Karen.” She plucks a medal off of her chest, an Iron Cross second class. “You can have one of mine!” She leans in, almost rubbing cheeks with her. “Just do not tell anyone I gave it to you.”

Karen shakes her head. “No, no, Carla-sensei. I do not wish to lie about my credentials. Besides, why would the Karlslanders award a Fusonese Witch with the Iron Cross second class?”

Carla shrugs. “Same reason they would award the Rookie a Legion D’Honneur.”

You say, “I was awarded the medal because of action above and beyond the call of duty, Carla.”

Carla smiles. “Of course! I was awarded the Iron Cross for the takedown of a Capital-class Neuroi over the Adriatic. Shoved a mortar shell straight up its ass.” She points at one of her Silver Medals of Military Valor. “Ah, this one I got sinking a Large-type attacking a fleet. This one I also got for the same thing except it was two. This one I got for sinking a Large-type the size of HMS Hood that WAS attacking HMS Hood-“ She looks down at a gloomy Karen. “BUT NONE OF THAT MATTERS!” She quickly hugs Karen. “None of it matters, none of it matters!”

Karen sighs. “I suppose you are right, Carla-sensei.”

Carla says, “Of course! I am Carla Emanuelle Buscaglia! The Sparrowhawk of Romagna!” She jabs her finger in Karen’s chest. “You are lucky to have such a teacher like me!”

You smile at them. “Well, Carla. Do you do a lot of teaching her in the 509th?”

“Of course!” says Carla. “But as for Karen, she did not receive your nickname. She very quickly made a name for herself but simply being herself!”

“… then why don’t you call me by my actual name?” you ask. You cross your arms, giving them a stern look. Karen and Carla look at each other briefly, then grin at you.

Carla says, “Well… what is your name?”

You sigh. “It’s-“

[1/2]

>>33947407
[2/2]

…

…

The Glenn Miller band has come to town to play for you all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crhTf1CHrDc&index=3&list=UUVXDLwB1V8h9omoaFK8vjnw

The large hangar is ablaze with dancing, singing, and laughter. You struggle to get past people as they bounce shoulder off of shoulder, lifting their girls into the air as the music plays. The girls themselves all come from all over Gallia, in the prospect of meeting some airmen who have been away from home for so long and need a good friend or two.

“You know, tomorrow, they’re going to be sending me back up,” says Captain Merrill as he sits down with a very disinterested Gallian girl. “And I’m just saying, you know, it’s not even my final flight. It’s only my 10th and they say we only have a 1 in 4 chance of survival up there. DeSoto’s got 24 under his belt, last one and he’s done but me, I gotta go up there, I might be killed!”

The girl nods. “Oui.”

You’ve already lost sight of your JFW. You see Commander Bucholz, talking with the other Commissioned Officers of the Witchcraft, including Major Stewart.

> Go on to Commander Bucholz
> Try and find someone from the JFW
> Get some food in you
> Write in

>>33947430
>> Get some food in you

Cheese

>>33947430
> Go on to Commander Bucholz
Need more commander!

>>33947407
>>33947430
Schteeeeeeel why.

>>33947430
> Get a plate of food to share with Commander Bucholz and go see her
Cunning!

>>33947430
>> Try and find someone from the JFW
Enough creeping on the Commander, damnit.

>>33947430
>> Write in
LIQUID COURAGE.

>>33947476
Rookie is Rookies true name, it is the name of her soul.

>>33947430
> Get some food in Commander Bucholz

>>33947430
>> Get some food in you
Guys, stop forcing the commander thing, you'll get rookies heart broken.

>>33947430
>> Try and find someone from the JFW
Let's talk to the other girls before we spend the rest of the night with Commander

>>33947430
> LIQUID COURAGE!
> Go on to Commander Bucholz

> Get some food in you
> Go on to Commander Bucholz

You shove your way past a few eager girls and airmen and move onto the snack table. Ah yes, good food. Chicken, some prawn, lettuce, and IS THAT BLEU DE GEX, YES, YES, YES. You quickly start shoving your way past more people. There’s still a slice left. YES, YES, YES-

The Jeep Jockey grabs it, and looks at you. Oh for the love of Pete. He smirks evilly as he breaks off a piece and pops it into his mouth. YOU DID NOT. COME BACK HERE, DAMN IT. FIGHT ME. YOU’RE A SERGEANT AND HE’S A CORPORAL DAMN IT AAAAAAAAAHHHHH

Ugh. You sigh as you walk over to Commander Bucholz as she mingles with the COs, Major Stewart, Lieutenant DeSoto, Lieutenant Hewitt, and Captain Malone. Captain Bryce Malone says, “So what gave him the nickname?”

Major Stewart says, “Well, this was the same run where a piece of flak tore through the cockpit, right between my legs and up past my head. Another piece of flak came in, shot right up from the floor, and nailed him in the hindquarters.” The Officers laugh at that. “And then Roselli just started calling him Ack-Ack, and the name stuck. Poor kid’s not going to walk straight for the rest of his life but he’ll have a funny nickname at least.”

You walk up to them. “Hello, sirs.”

“Ah, Sergeant!” says Commander Bucholz. She raises her glass of wine to you. “Good to see you!” You smile at that. She’s happy!

Major Stewart says, “Sergeant, I ain’t introduced you properly to my Officers.” He points to Lieutenant Hewitt. “This is my Bombardier, George Hewitt. Family man from the West Coast, he’s a physics professor.” He nods, smiling at you. “And this is Lieutenant DeSoto.”

Lieutenant DeSoto is noticeably much more disheveled, his uniform a bit more undone than the others. He offers his hand. “Oh, Small time. Nice to meet you.”

> Your response?

>>33947766
>Pleasure to meet everyone
No need to antagonize anyone

>>33947766
> "And you, too, Lieutenant."
Plot to murder him (or at least mildly humiliate him in a devious and untraceable manner) to find inner peace.

>>33947766

"Lieutenant Hewitt. "lieutenant Deso- I AM NOT SMALL-TIME."

>>33947766
> Haughty elegant sniff and ignoring of the Lieutenant.

File: 1400763414920.png (41 KB, 800x800)

41 KB PNG

does this quest have action and gunfights and dogfights and PEW PEW or is it all just this yuri shit

>>33947903
yes

>>33947766
Shake the hand, give him the questioning eyebrow, "Small time?"

>>33947766
Backing >>33947902

>>33947903
Surprisingly, while at first I why don't you read and find out.

>>33947766
> "Likewise, Shabby."

>>33947766
Jeep Jockey a shit. Why can't we just kill him, it's not like he'll be missed.

>>33947984
Because Rookie needs someone she outranks.

>>33947766
Jeep Jockey you fuck, we let you play baseball!

>>33947766
> "My...poor Rachel and George. Oh, and good day, DeSoto."
Lieutenancy sure doesn't mean much these days.

>>33948016
This is how he repays kindnesses, anon. We even gave him front seat. JJ is not to be trusted.

You shake his hand. “Hmph. You as well, Lieutenant, and you as well Lieutenant Hewitt.” DeSoto grunts. His shake is limp, no vigor to it. You can tell a lot about a man in the way he shakes hands, and boy can you read him like a book.

Major Stewart smiles. “Now, Wyatt here, not to be confused with Wyatt Roselli, is on his way home.” Lieutenat DeSoto frowns, sipping bit more wine. “Tomorrow’s mission will be his 25th, his last one in fact before he rotates out and goes home back to the states.”

DeSoto says, “Well, Jimmy, I’d prefer if you not mention, it’s bad luck you know?”

“Ha!” Major Stewart pats him on the shoulder. “Now, DeSoto, you’ve been with me on my missions, I ain’t steered you wrong. I’ll get you home.”

DeSoto sighs. “Well, you’ll be more of a help to me than Small time and Commander Bucholz here.”

…

DeSoto says, “No offense.” He quietly slinks away to drink more.

Lieutenant Hewitt chuckles, waving him off. “Ha, don’t worry about Toto over there. I mean, it’s not like he’ll die or anything.”

Well, there is that 1 in 4 chance.

> “What do your duties as bombardier entail, Lieutenant Hewitt?”
> “Would you like to dance, Commander?”
> “Major Stewart, I had some ideas about how I could extend my range.”
> Go seek out some other member of the 509th
> Write in

>>33948093
>> “What do your duties as bombardier entail, Lieutenant Hewitt?”

Bit more small talk before we pounce on the commander

>>33948093
> “What do your duties as bombardier entail, Lieutenant Hewitt?”
Agreed: chit chat before sweeping the COmmander off her feet.

>>33948093
>> “What do your duties as bombardier entail, Lieutenant Hewitt?”
Actually a bit curious

>>33948093
>> “What do your duties as bombardier entail, Lieutenant Hewitt?”

>>33948093
> “Major Stewart, I had some ideas about how I could extend my range.”
I really want to dance but might as well get this done with while we're here.

>>33948093
>> “What do your duties as bombardier entail, Lieutenant Hewitt?”
Also, seriously, Small time?

>>33948093
> “Would you like to dance, Commander?”
There are some real annoying officers in this quest, huh.

>>33948093
> “Major Stewart, I had some ideas about how I could extend my range.”

>>33948259
DeSoto is a Young wannabe. ... Which is a bit sad for multiple reasons.

>>33948093
>> “Major Stewart, I had some ideas about how I could extend my range.”

>>33948305
But still, randomly nick naming the new witch Small Time is something I'd expect from Jeep Jockey, not an actual aviator.

> “What do your duties as bombardier entail, Lieutenant Hewitt?”

You smile at Lieutenant Hewitt. “So, Lieutenant Hewitt, what’s being a bombardier like?”

Lieutenant Hewitt smiles. “Well, occasionally, most of the time in fact, I get to use the nose turret to shoot at Neuroi, bit of a peashooter honestly but everything helps. But when we get close to the target, it’s my duty to get the hairs right and get the bombs into the pickle barrel. Now most times when Witchcraft is lead flight, that means when I drop my bombs, all the bombers in formation drop their bombs too.

Captain Bryce Malone says, “Yeah, it’s to get the most ordnance possible on the target.”

“Indeed, and to get it accurate, Major Stewart hands control over to me.” He laughs a bit. “Why, I tell you, little lady, I’ve flown the Witchcraft so much I’m practically a co-pilot by now.”

Major Stewart says, “Well, I reckon you get your piloting badge when you actually sit in the seat, George.” The officers laugh a bit at that.

[1/2]

>>33948423
[2/2]

“Anyway,” says Hewitt. “Calculations is all done with the Nodern bombsight. It’s a bit like a computer, we dial in the altitude, heading, estimate of wind speed and where it’s going, and then the computer calculates the aim point. And the bombsight does this long in advance compared to other bombsights the Britannians or the Karlslanders use. Calculates range, and it calculates the angle to target based on how fast we’re going. And with that, we use the correct to haul Witchcraft over the right point to drop.”

You nod. “Interesting. Sounds hard.”

“Ah, it’s simple,” says Hewitt. “A monkey could do it! Hell, if you want, I can show you it after the dance, see what’s what.”

Major Stewart says, “Well speaking of dance. Uh, Commander.” Commander Bucholz looks up at Major Stewart from her glass of wine. “Would you like to dance?”

What

“Oh, I’d love to, Major.” She takes Major Stewart’s hand, and off they go to the dance floor.

Son of a bitch. She- Aww…

> Go find a member of the 509th
> Head out of the hangar, find the Witchcraft
> See if you can find anyone to dance with
> Write in

>>33948417
We're a flying sergeant so we're pretty much universally hated by officers.

>>33948437
DAMMIT JIMMY.
> Go find a member of the 509th
Time to sulk.

>>33948437
>> Write in
Stalk the commander and bite on the hankerchief

>>33948437
>> See if you can find anyone to dance with

>>33948437
> Go find a member of the 509th
Sulk.

>>33948437
> See if you can find anyone to dance with
We're not going to be some lonely bitch god damn it

>>33948437
> Go find a member of the 509th
What are they doing with themselves?

>>33948437
>Go find a member of the 509th

>>33948437
> Find drink
> Find corner
> Sulk more than you've ever sulked before

So when do we admit the commander is a het?

>>33948748
Soon_

>>33948748
Never. Hope doesn't die, anon!
Once someone actually eligible appears, not sooner.

> Go find a member of the 509th

You walk around, grumbling a bit. You occasionally spot Commander Bucholz and Major Stewart, hand in hand as they shake and dance on the floor with each other to the tune of In the Mood.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_CI-0E_jses

Ugh a little part of you is dying inside. That should be you, darn it. Alas, you can’t just cut in between Officers. You’re Enlisted, a Flying Sergeant. There’s always that fine divide. You look over to see Rachel and Daisy, shittalking and joking with other airmen, pilots from the other B-24s stationed on base. They laugh at one of Daisy’s jokes, she sure is a joker that Daisy.

You look over again. Vera’s fallen asleep in a chair, slumbering soundly even through all the noise. Carla and Karen meanwhile dance with each other, Karen occasionally treading on Carla’s toes, but she doesn’t mind it. Carla just repays it with more sweeping and sidestepping, throwing Karen even more off balance. Romagnans.

Daphne walks up to you, handing you a drink. “Ah, you look lonely, darling.”

You huff. “I’m not lonely, I just have no one to dance with at the moment.”

Daphne sighs. “Neither do I. I must say, dancing is not my forte as they say.”

You look over at her glass of water. “You not drinking?”

She shakes her head. “Oh, I don’t drink. Teetotaler you see. Besides, we have a mission tomorrow, do we not?” You nod at that. “Mhm. And I’d like to avoid the hangover they say.”

> “We can dance together.”
> “You should go dance. You might not see a quarter of these crewmen after tomorrow’s mission.”
> “I was just about to go head to the Witchcraft anyway, want to come with?”
> Write in

>>33948790
>> “We can dance together.”
We can't not dance, just the one at least

>>33948790
> "Wanna go for a dance, then?"

>>33948790
>>33948790
> “We can dance together.”

Daphne does our hair. We can sub her in

>>33948790
>“We can dance together.”
Daphne is a good girl, even with the hair fetish.

>>33948790
>> “We can dance together.”

>>33948836
What a great fetish

>>33948836
But I want to run my fingers through Rookies hair too anon.

>>33948790
> “We can dance together.”
Might as well have fun while we're here.

>>33948790
>> “We can dance together.”
We can leave your friends behind.

>>33948790
> “We can dance together.”
Make the Commander jealous! Or not, but at least we'll try!

>>33948790
We can dance if we want to.
We can leave your friends behind.
Cause' your friends don't dance,
and if they don't dance, so they're
no friends of mine.

So, any bets that Daphne has some feelings for Rookie?

Can we cuddle Daphne later?

>>33949062
Daphne will be Rookie's rebound crush when she realizes Bucholz is straight.

>>33949062
I want to, I think she's cute

>>33949141
That's what I'm thinking as well.

> “We can dance together.”

You smile at Daphne. “Well, we can dance together, Daphne. Just to show we’re not lonely.”

Daphne smiles, taking your hands immediately. “I’d love that!”

With that, you two head to the dance floor, happily dancing the night away with each other. Daphne clearly doesn’t know how to do this considering how she almost steps on your toes a few times, but you guide her on. It’s not that hard after all. If anything now, you’re no longer a Rookie, you’re the one with experience now.

“So sorry, darling,” she says. “I’m not particularly used to this.” She’s suddenly pushed closer to you. She blushes a little, laughing nervously. “Wow, okay. This is very close.” She slowly backs off. “Backing up now. Backing up, backing up.”

You chuckle a bit, at her expense. Of all the people in the 509th you’re most friendly with, it’s probably Daphne “Foobs” Fairbanks. “Relax, Daphne. It’s fine.”

“Ah, well…” Daphne scratches the back of her neck, looking away. As the music flourishes to a finish, a man from USAAF Public Relations come up to the stage and to the microphone.

“Attention, attention!” he smiles at you. “Men of the 453rd Bomb Group. A happy night to you all! It is the second anniversary of the 453rd Bomb Group, and in those two years, you’ve destroyed hundreds of Neuroi nests and claimed dozens more drones and units taking a snap at you!” The crowd applauses, as do you and Daphne. “And I just want to say, good luck to you tomorrow, for your next mission. Let’s give three cheers not just for Major Jimmy Stewart, not just for the 453rd, but for the Liberion Army Air Force! Nobody can stop the Army Air Force! Three cheers! Hip hip!”

“Hurray!” you all cheer.

[1/2]

>>33949299
[2/2]

“Well,” he says. “Good night, to the 453rd, keep ‘em flying, boys!” He walks off stage, and the music begins playing again. But then the real fun part comes. Balloons drop from the ceiling, burying you under red, white, and blue rubber and air, like the bombs the Liberators will be dropping tomorrow. You struggle to slap and prod the balloons away before they ruffle up your hair.

Daphne giggles. “Come on, let’s get back to the barracks!”

You start following Daphne out of the hangar, and out into the cold night. A few Officers are already making their way out, with their dates in tow. Some don’t even wait then, finding themselves on the walls or on the grass in the fields. You shudder a bit as you follow Daphne.

Then you look over to a Lieutenant, kneeling on the ground, bottle of wine in his hand. Wait. Is that Lieutenant DeSoto? He mumbles something incoherently. He must be drunk, black out drunk.

> Help him up
> Keep walking, someone else will get him
> Write in

>>33949319
>> Help him up

sigh

>>33949319
>> Keep walking, someone else will get him
Not in the mood to get puked on.

>>33949319
> Help him up
Come on now big man

>>33949319
> Help him up
Alas.

>>33949319
>Help him up
Rookie and Daphne are nice, even to jerks.

>>33949319
Keep walking.

>>33949319
> Help him up
I bet Bucholz and Stewart will be going at it like rabbits while we wash puke off our uniform later tonight. Just another day in Rookie life.

>>33949449
I am tempted to have rookie go hang about outside the commander's door, waiting for her to get back.

>>33949449
Probably.
It may just be a silly hero-worship type crush, but it'll still hurt. Poor Rookie.

>>33949319
> Help him up
Aaaaah geez.

>>33949319
> Help him up

>>33949449
Seriously? They talk and dance and now you're assuming that they're fucking?

> Help him up

You sigh, then gesture for Daphne to come help you as you walk over to Lieutenant DeSoto. “Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant DeSoto turns his head to you, revealing his tear-stained cheeks and his sad eyes. “The fuck you want?” he slurs out. “Can’t you see Imma fucking…” He spits onto the ground, then wipes his mouth and then his cheeks. “Just… just go away.”

You cross your arms. “Come on, let us help you to your quarters.” You and Daphne grab him by the arms then pull him up, then start dragging him to the Officer’s quarters.

“Agh…” he cries a bit, hanging his head low. “This is it… my fucking last night and I spend it surrounded by a pair of fucking witches half my fucking age. Ya know, fuck… fuck!” he squeals. “God! GOD!” he yells and struggles as you drag him along. Your witch strength is keeping him under control. “So this is how I fucking end my fucking life!?”

You look down at him. Tears are flowing down his cheeks freely, and his shoulders shake as he quietly begins sobbing to himself. “I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die... I don’t want to die…”

Finally, you get him back to his quarters. You help him onto his bed, where he collapses. You poke him in the back. Nothing. He must have finally passed out. You’re glad. At least he can slumber soundly now.

You and Daphne start the walk back to the barracks. Daphne says, “I feel sorry for him.” You’re silent at that. “I mean, sometimes I forget that they aren’t like us. They have to deal with all this, as regular people.” She remains a bit sullen. “I wish I could do more for them.”

> “They’re braver than we are.”
> Remain silent
> “It has to end soon.”
> Write in

>>33949587
He is a movie star and Bucholz is crushing nearly as hard as rookie. I give it 50/50.

>>33949587
It's friggin' Jimmy Stewart, what do you think?

>>33949587
Hey man, you never know. It's possible.

>>33949618
Remain silent and lean on Daphne as we walk back.

>>33949618
>> “They’re braver than we are.”

>>33949618
> Remain silent
> Stop by the Commander's room.

>>33949618
> “They’re braver than we are.”
Don't go forgetting that Rookie

>>33949618
>Remain silent
Flying into combat is flying into combat, everyone who goes up is at risk of not coming back.

>>33949659
This.

>>33941705
She is a tea drinking Cricket playing lumberjack from His Majesty King George V's The Dominion of Canada?

>>33949756
That's Faraway Land to you mister.

>>33949618
>> Remain silent
>> Head to the commanders room afterwards

>>33949618
>Remain silent
Lean on Daphne, disregard commander.

>>33949859
This.

>>33949859
Acquire Daphnes has my vote

> Remain silent

You look down a bit. She’s not wrong. You wish you could do more for the airmen. The Mighty Eighth is never so mighty when it has to face a swarm of Neuroi small types all butchering the Liberators and Fortresses. You’ve heard last year that Memphis Belle made a full 25 missions without the crew getting a single scratch. A daring feat if any.

As much of a jerk Lieutenant DeSoto is, you hope he doesn’t die. No one deserves that.

You gently lean on Daphne. Daphne blinks, looking down on you. “Oh, darling. Are you tired?”

You sigh. “A bit.”

“Well, we should get some rest. I don’t think tomorrow will be very kind to us. It’s back to the old grind, I fear.” She very slowly wraps her arm around your shoulder.

You both arrive back at the barracks. You settle down onto a bed. “Um, darling?” You look back at Daphne as she takes off her jacket and dresses down to her blouse. “Can I ask a favor?” You nod. “Do you mind if I?” She wiggles her fingers a bit, blushing.

Ah, you know what she wants.

> Not tonight
> Fine
> Write in

>>33949953
> Fine
She may have the hair, but the Commander has Rookie's heart!

>>33949953
> Fine
You're fixing it tomorrow

>>33949953
>> Fine
>> Write in
But only that

>>33949953
>Fine
Make small talk and try not to cry as we realize that our crush is very much one-sided, and always will be.

>>33949953
>> Fine

>>33949953
Fine.
Fall asleep while she strokes our hair.

>>33944193
Wait, you can sex up officers with officers and it will be Ok?

Time to join the military!

>>33950079
It's less sticky than an officer and a junior enlisted shacking up, at least, but yeah.