>>2026093
>‘Can it wait for later?’ (Proceed with TASK)
>‘Sure, I can talk for a bit.’ (Temporarily delay TASK execution)
>Write-In

>>2026094
>‘Sure, I can talk for a bit.’ (Temporarily delay TASK execution)

>>2026094
>‘Can it wait for later?’ (Proceed with TASK)
its a life or dead call, iowa
we really gotta do it

>>2026102
I'm not going to support or discourage, but I can make sure it doesn't eat up too much time if you guys don't waddle around on the issue with her. It's not like you're going to sit down for an hour with your feelings on your sleeve if you don't want to. The time allocation thing is still on my mind if it needs a revamp, because not everything should take a slot.

>>2026094
>>Write-In
"Iowa, I do need to make a quick phone call. Why don't you sit here for a minute while I finish it. It shouldn't take too long."

It might be good for her to hear our end of the conversation with the shamans. That'll both help alleviate the stress that we have no options and preempt her most likely move, to cut off our stream connection.

>>2026104
You don't have a phone on-base. You're going to have to walk to either the military base and wait in line for a phone call or go all the way to HQ and use a phone there.

>>2026105
Oh whoops. I thought we had a phone in the office.

I'll change my vote to
>‘Sure, I can talk for a bit.’ (Temporarily delay TASK execution)

>>2026093
>>‘Sure, I can talk for a bit.’ (Temporarily delay TASK execution)
we need to assure iowa that she did not fuck us so bad it made our stream almost snap

>>2026094
>>‘Sure, I can talk for a bit.’ (Temporarily delay TASK execution)
We gotta be focused and two promots max guys

File: I'm Willing To Break It Off.jpg (252 KB, 850x1045)

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You think about it—if only for a moment. It was true that whatever was holding your Stream together—I commend you for bestowing credit where credit is due—might just snap at any waking moment … and that the longer that you delayed on making the phone call or any attempt to try and fix it—or even patch it up, for that matter—was another risk you really shouldn’t have been considering at all … but it was Iowa. She was as much in the middle of this as you were … being the one who set it—

No, it wasn’t her fault. Not one iota of it.

You’d leapt in knowing. There was no mistake here.

‘Sure,’ you nod, rubbing your neck—what was the harm in sitting down for five, ten minutes, after all? ‘We can talk for a bit.’

Iowa nods, closing the door shut behind her.

There is a heavy weight to her action, an odd, disjointed motion to her movements. You feel a sense of confusion and dread take you over as she tosses her heavy locks of hair aside as she turns back to you, her lips barely a line. She lets out a breath, shoulders rising and falling as she places a hand on her hip before finally looking up, wearing a smile that looked like it was more to assure herself than to offer any sort of warmth towards you.

‘So, uh, how are you, um,’ she stutters, if only slightly, ‘feeling?’

You both deserve one another, truly.

You stop yourself short of hissing a warning. You didn’t want her to think you were more of a weirdo than you’d clearly made apparent.

‘I’m doing all right,’ you finally answer, trying to lighten the situation as best as you can manage—even if it wasn’t that stellar an attempt from your end. ‘I mean, it’s nothing that I’m not used to. Hospital stays; glares and rolling eyes; Nagato smacking herself in the head with a clipboard; Akashi being on the verge of a breakdown and planning murder … usual fare.’

Iowa laughs, clutching her sides. It was nice to see a grin on her face again—it suited her more than that sullen mode she’d adopted walking into your room. It doesn’t last long, however, and she raises a palm in your direction, her grin slowly fading away into a reluctant, hesitant, but otherwise thankful grimace as she stands up straight, letting out an audible sigh.

‘You’re really something, you know that.’

You shrug.

She bites her lip again, her features adamant.

‘Commander,’ she begins stiffly, ‘I know that my connection’s … that you’re buckling under my weight. You can’t handle it … you’re not going to be able to hold it back for long and—’

She sighs again.

‘I’m,’ she covers a face with her hand, ‘I’m willing to forget about last night. I can sever it from my end, break the connection … and it’ll be like nothing happened.’

Iowa fixes you with a determined gaze.

‘Deal?’

>‘No deal.’
>‘If that’s what you want.’
>‘Wait, what?’
>Write-In

>>2026131
>‘No deal.’

My kingdom for Sad/Melancholic Iowa images. Literally none on Danbooru.

>>2026131
>>‘No deal.’

>>2026131
>>‘No deal.’

>>2026131
>>‘No deal.’

"I'm actually about to explore an option that might help with that."

>>2026151
This, add on that we're looking into a solution

>>2026131
>>‘No deal.’
>I gotta phone call to make now for work stuff, but we can have dinner later tonight if you want. I make mean kanmusu friendly pasta...I think...

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>>2026157
I'd advise against making promises we might be unable to follow up on.

File: Credit to the Discord.jpg (80 KB, 420x533)

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‘No deal.’

The words cut the air, clearly and concisely, without any hesitation—or thought—from your end. You hadn’t even known that you’d mustered up enough of a brain wave to say those words, but here you were: confident, steady and sporting a frown at the very idea Iowa had considered that you would—of all things—even ponder such a thing. Iowa stares at you, a shred of disbelief peeking from behind her blue eyes, either from your utter stubbornness to yield, your lack of proper consideration before coming to such a solution … or just from the fact she had expected you to say yes for the sake of your own skin.

Either way, she immediately transitions to outrage, right after, her arms flying to her side as the prior disbelief practically cracks her voice—it takes her several attempts to get her words in, but she manages to somehow connect her brain to her tongue.

‘No deal?’

Despite the gravity of the situation—and the continued risk to your mental and physical faculties—you really can’t help but snigger. At her growing ire, however, you raise a hand to your mouth, hoping to kill off the rest of the laughter before she really got going. You’d seen enough men get cowed at the edge of women’s tongues … and at this point, you weren’t quite sure you wanted an invitation to Iowa’s invitation to such a lashing.

You collect yourself, squaring your shoulders and asserting your authority, ‘No deal.’

Before she can get a word in, you approach her, placing both hands on her shoulder.

‘I didn’t,’ you pause, trying to find the right words—you didn’t want to upset her, but at the same time … you wanted to make your position on the matter clear, even if it did. ‘I didn’t promise last night just to give up at the first hurdle. I’m not gonna lie, I’m … I’m scared too; I don’t even know if what I’m going to try is going to work, but I’m going to find a way to make this work.’

‘You’re putting yourself at risk over nothing,’ a growl escaping her as she balls her fists around the fabric of your clothes, practically lifting you up from your heel. ‘Don’t you even get what the—’

‘You’re not nothing.’

They’re not words you had put much thought into. To you, they were just facts, cold, hard and undeniable. Iowa’s grip loosens … and you find yourself falling—no, forced—onto the floor by an embrace that almost had you grunting for a medical service unit. Your bottom slides against floor as you stare at the blond strands of Iowa’s hair, her arms around you in a hug that was needy, desperate … all-too-unwilling to let go. You wince slightly, trying to stand up, to no avail. She was a big girl, even for you.

The sound of her sniffling hits your ears, her hand caressing the back of your neck.

‘You’re an idiot,’ she mutters, nuzzling against you.

>Write-In

>>2026181
that aint news
and you are more than worth it

>>2026181
>"psst, you knew what you were in for"
>kiss her on her forehead
>"Now, I'd love to stay like this, trust me I would, but I gotta gotta go see to that potential meeting now"

>>2026181
"Yes, I'm a idiot. That's why I need you to make this work."

>>2026181
>Yes, I'm an idiot. But not one to go hurting people I care for...
>Now, pardon me Iowa, but I need to get moving to fix myself up, for all our sakes.
>You put your trust in me, now it's my turn to ensure it was not misplaced.

>>2026202
2nded

>>2026202
This

File: 156382966632.png (283 KB, 249x386)

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>>2026181
>She was a big girl
>Write-In: "FOR YOU"

...nope. Supporting this >>2026202

>>2026181
>>2026202
Good civilisation. This.

>>2026218
AW FUCK

File: Glassiowa.jpg (125 KB, 704x959)

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‘Yeah, I am,’ you return softly, raising your left while keeping your eight leaned on your right. Iowa wasn’t putting quite all her weight on you, but it was still enough for you to try and steady yourself, as awkward as it looked.

She draws back with a sigh, still looking quite upset … but a lot less angry compared to how she had been before. Her knees clicking together as she pulls back from her embrace, you’re overtaken by another surprise with her hands clasping either side of your head, touching your foreheads to each other. She wears a pained look on her face now, her brows scrunched and her eyes shut as if holding back a flurry of words, emotions and thoughts, her form trembling. She doesn’t look like any sort of defender of humanity. She looked like a frightened, angry young woman … and you the unfortunate nexus of those feelings.

‘Hah,’ she breathes, finally, wearing a wry smile as you feel her forehead press against yours, ‘I wonder who’s the bigger idiot, then? The idiot … or the idiot that believes in the idiot?’

You guffaw.

‘Well, that’s for you to decide, but,’ you slip her a comforting wink as the words leave your mouth, ‘I think we’ll have more time to contemplate that later … because I’m not interested in writing a will just yet.’

Iowa snorts again, drawing back.

‘I think you should,’ she snipes, getting up and pulling you to your feet, ‘but chances are you’re probably be taking the whole world down with you, anyway.’

You laugh, before realizing just where she had borrowed that quote from, ‘Lionheart.’

She doesn’t reply, instead offering a coy smile as she held your fingers.

‘I’ll see you later,’ she breathes, ‘okay?’

‘Okay.’

The both of you leave the room and exit into the corridor—Iowa going into her room as you make your way outside … and instantly regret leaving the warmth of the barracks as the biting chill of the afternoon hits you.

You contemplate your next move.

It was easy on the surface: there was a phone back at base and it was probably, more than likely, open to all use … but at the same time, you couldn’t scratch the feeling that if it was indeed a Shaman or someone the First Admiral was talking about in hushed tones, you weren’t quite sure dialling a number in the presence of the Admiralty was the smartest thing to do … even the Vice Admiral or Admiral. Especially considering the fact that there was a good chance that the Court of Admirals were still keeping tabs on you. At the same time, you weren’t quite sure if the Army’s Mobile Command would give you approval to use one of their phones. The Army wasn’t the most receptive of parties, but you didn’t think that they’d be able make use of the information any more than you would anything of theirs.

You scratch your stubble. What to do indeed?

>>2026297
>Military Base Phone ([REQUIRES LEVEL 2 MOBILE COMMAND TAG])
>Yokosuka Admiralty Base Phone
>Write-In

>>2026298
>>Military Base Phone ([REQUIRES LEVEL 2 MOBILE COMMAND TAG])

>>2026298
>>Military Base Phone ([REQUIRES LEVEL 2 MOBILE COMMAND TAG])

>>2026298
>>Yokosuka Admiralty Base Phone
doing this on another base really isn't smart

>>2026298
>Military Base Phone ([REQUIRES LEVEL 2 MOBILE COMMAND TAG])

>>2026298
Well. We do have lvl 2 clearance, don’t we? Let’s check out the army base phone.

I guess the district is not in shape that would allow for civilian phone lines.

>>2026305
Maybe so, but keep in mind the shamans are not on best of terms with the admiralty either, at the moment.

>>2026309
cool, but think about the difference between the admiral and VA overhearing us and the completely different military organization overhearing our problem. We're in the Admiralty anyway, that doesn't make a difference.

>>2026311
Military personnel is less likely to fully grasp what we’re talking about, not because they’re dumb, but because lack of context. Plus content of the call is likely to only be setting up a meeting.

Coming clean to TTK or VA might be valuable on its own, but might also constitute breach of trust towards the First Admiral.

>>2026298
>Military Base Phone ([REQUIRES LEVEL 2 MOBILE COMMAND TAG])

>>2026298
>Military Base Phone ([REQUIRES LEVEL 2 MOBILE COMMAND TAG])
Yokosuka would be default so this is the better option dess

>>2026298
>>Military Base Phone ([REQUIRES LEVEL 2 MOBILE COMMAND TAG])

Session delayed faggots, due to Mech cracking his head on a wall from falling

Feeling a lot better now. I'll probably run up a session tomorrow morning my time.

Running a session in about an hour.

File: Sergeant 3.jpg (77 KB, 510x496)

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The Army lounge isn’t that far of a walk.

Along the way, you make out several new paint jobs on buildings … and several civilians attempting to return to normalcy. There weren’t that many, of course, and some of the stalls looked like they were no more in business than the muscles under your prosthetic, but the bustle of activity was definitely a welcome change compared to the droll existence that had been around before the Army came along. It looked like they had the right of things—the civilians were more receptive of them than they were of the Admiralty, that was one thing that you had no doubt about. You spy a young woman and a boy, setting themselves down on the stoop of a grey building, eating what seemed to be distributed rations—the marking of the Army on one side.

As your eyes make contact, the little boy raises his hands to wave at you … only for the woman to grab his hand and force it down. She throws you a gaze that held more contempt than scrutiny, before going back to eating her meal.

The boy manages to get a small wave off, however.

You return it in kind.

The thunder rolls right past you, trucks and jeeps with crates of ammo and supplies with marches of soldiers hoisting rifles, bags, cables and oddities, jogging right past you with their eyes forward. You pass Mamiya’s, seeing the cook at the front of the establishment, flailing his arms wildly as two MPs produce calming gestures. A trio of soldiers rest their backs against the building, sandbags and rucksacks at their feet as they puff on cigarettes. One of them gives you an acknowledging nod before his friend pours him a cup of whatever was in their tumbler.

‘I swear, I tell you two morons to watch a crate of potatoes for five bloody minutes and now you can’t tell me where the Hell it is?!’

It wasn’t quite peace and quiet, but it was miles

It’s not long before you arrive in front of a familiar-looking tent and a burly-looking man staring down at you.

‘Sorry, uh,’ you flash your tag, ‘I was wondering if you had a phone I could use?’

He throws a brief glance to the entrance of the establishment.

‘Not here,’ he rumbles. ‘You want to check out the Operations Center on the north-west side of town. They have a line up and running.’

You balk. North-West?

‘Commander,’ you hear a familiar voice. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’

You come face-to-face with the Sergeant, clad in full garb and cap, a small sack tied up underneath her arm.

‘Sergeant,’ you greet with a nod—the burly man stomps himself into a salute and a rumble of acknowledgement. ‘I’m sorry, but … I need to make a phone call. Is there a line installed anywhere around here?’

‘The lounge only connects to local operations,’ she answers matter-of-factly. ‘Anything outside, you’re going to need to ask the Operations for permission for a private call.’

>>2030764
>'Will this suffice?' (Flash LEVEL 2 SECURITY TAG)
> 'I'm shit out of luck, then.' (Leave)

>>2030766
>>'Will this suffice?' (Flash LEVEL 2 SECURITY TAG)

>>2030766
>>'Will this suffice?' (Flash LEVEL 2 SECURITY TAG)

>>2030766
>>'Will this suffice?' (Flash LEVEL 2 SECURITY TAG)

>>2030766
>'Will this suffice?' (Flash LEVEL 2 SECURITY TAG)

>>2030766
>>'Will THIS suffice?' (Flash LEVEL 2 SECURITY TAG)

File: As Opposed To.jpg (60 KB, 410x412)

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‘Will this do?’

You flash her the tags, making her eyes widen—if only slightly—in surprise.

‘Huh? How’d you get your hands on one of those?’

‘Goodwill,’ you shrug, holding them up as she leaned in closer to scrutinize it. ‘This’ll get me a phone call at least, right?’

She takes the tags out of your hand, turning it over before handing it back.

‘Well, I’m kinda surprised someone just handed one over to you, Commander,’ she answers honestly, ‘or is that code word for a buried body?’

You let out a small snigger.

‘Nothing of the like,’ you reassure jokingly, ‘got my word on that.’

She smirks, shaking head.

‘There shouldn’t be any problems if you want to just make a phone call,’ she nods, ‘but I’m kind of surprised that you’d be coming here to make one—I thought the Admiralty had lines up and running on their end.’

‘My barracks doesn’t have a phone line installed,’ you shrug—you didn’t feel the need to elaborate unless you were actually asked to that extent. ‘I saw the notice that you guys had a phone … and I didn’t feel like going all the way to the Base just to line up to dial a number.’

The Sergeant raises an eyebrow, fixing you with a flat look.

‘As opposed to using one of ours?’

You’d forgotten how inquisitive she could be.

>‘Well, I better get a buggy or something … the Operations are up North-West, right?’
>‘You know what, I think I’ll just use our land lines … shouldn’t be that long a line and I could use the walk.’
>Write-In

>>2031073
>>‘Well, I better get a buggy or something … the Operations are up North-West, right?’
quick pray for the Old Man

>>2031073
>>Write-In
"And to take a look at what or whos in there. Who knows, maybe theres some other way I could help rather than just in the lounge."

>>2031086
2nding this

>>2031073
>>2031086
This is fine.

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‘Well, there’s that … and I also thought it’d be a good opportunity to ask your superiors if there was anything I could do to help around here,’ you pause, ‘in my free time, of course.’

She sniggers into a fist.

‘Of course.’

Several men and women pass by, giving respectful salutes—one of them you recognize to be one of the men that was at the table with her in the lounge from before—as they move past the large bouncer and into the lounge. She returns the salutes with a nod acknowledgement before turning her attention back to you, stepping onto the road and cricking her neck as she tosses a glance over her shoulder.

‘I’m headed that way myself—need to drop off a few reports and stuff,’ she states simply, gesturing for you to follow her. ‘Come on, it’s not that long a walk.’

‘I was thinking of hailing a buggy, actually.’

‘The Operations Checkpoint and upper neighbourhood routes are strictly for Army use … they’re lines made specifically to make our runs and stations. Thought you would’ve known that.’

You blink.

‘What? Since when?’

‘Last week,’ she spares her wrist another glance, ‘thought you would’ve known; your Vice-Admiral—or at least that’s what I think you call him, you guys got a weird hierarchy—helped cut it up … congestion was murder on the supply routes, especially with our reconstruction crews criss-crossing.’

So that’s why there weren’t that many Admiralty vehicles and Army vehicles on the same route that often. You’d never thought that the Vice-Admiral had put in such a change … although, listening to the Sergeant, you suppose there was logic behind it.

‘I need to drop some things, though … hope you don’t mind making one tiny detour along the way.’

>‘All right, lead the way, ma’am.’
>‘I’ll make my own way, thanks.’
>Write-In

>>2031263
>>‘All right, lead the way, ma’am.’

>>2031263
>‘All right, lead the way, ma’am.’
>Write-In
"need a hand with the load?"

>>2031269
this

>>2031263
On one hand, detour is not very reassuring...

On the other hand, she knows the place and is cooperative and going in alone might end up getting us lost or held up by someone.

>lead the way
>offer help to expedite the process

>>2031263
>>2031269
this

>>2031263
>‘All right, lead the way, ma’am.’

>>2031263
>>‘All right, lead the way, ma’am.’

>>2031263
>>2031269
This

>>2031322
Yeah, works out better this way

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Well, if you weren’t going to get an aneurysm, it was best for you to do it in tolerable company anyway. Plus, if she had said that getting there was going to be that big of a chore without a buggy … you didn’t have a choice but to walk. It was a little further than you would have liked, of course and you wished you could have been told about this—for some reason you see a brief flash of the snickering MP Chief tearing up a notification—before you’d walked all the way here.

So you agree with her proposition. A detour wouldn’t mean much at this point.

‘Sure,’ you nod, placing your hands in your pockets. ‘All right then, ma’am—lead the way.’

She smirks, hoisting the item and marching forward, across the road and into the alley. You scoot right after her without a word, giving the bouncer a friendly salute before going on your way. The Sergeant is quiet as she navigates the barren alleyway, leading into one of the inner neighbourhoods—you would probably be coming up to where you’d found all those orphaned children and that old lady that had been kind enough to take them in. Your eyes travel to the form of the quiet Sergeant as she marched briskly, one end of the sack swinging, it’s contents looking like they were going to break through, whatever they were.

‘Let me help you with that.’

You offer a hand, only for the Sergeant to throw you another smirk, shaking her head. She keeps the sack away from you, tucking it under her arm.

‘It’s a generous offer, Commander,’ she sighs, wearing a small smile, ‘but I didn’t join the Army expecting my Squaddies to carry something that I could drag on my own.’

‘Just being courteous.’

‘I know,’ she chuckles, ‘but I’m fine—they tossed a lot more on our backs back in the Academy. No one told the Instructors that, though—in the sun, in the muck, in the nude—’

‘What?’

‘You know, in the nude. Sometimes you just gotta throw it up and—’

‘Right, right,’ you wave a hand, hoping not to hear the sordid details. ‘You could stand to be a little less open about that.’

She stops in her tracks, clutching her sides and laughing.

‘I always keep forgetting that you folks don’t actually have any military background,’ she gives an apologetic grimace. ‘It was back when I tried to apply for a Spec Ops seminar; that’s what they called ‘em. Two weeks and a crazy-ass warmonger with a paint gun. I made it to Day 10 before I was kicked out. Stuck with me all the way back to Officer Training.’

‘The Admiral and Vice-Admiral do.’

‘Yeah—the guy with the stubble right? I know him,’ she nods as she gestures for you to walk. ‘The only teenager to break through the Air Force special training. Surprised he didn’t get kicked out.’

>‘You know the Vice-Admiral?’
>‘I thought you went straight to Officer’s Training?’
>‘Mind telling me what’s in the bag?’
>Stay Silent
>Write-In

>>2035340
>>‘You know the Vice-Admiral?’

>>2035340
>‘I thought you went straight to Officer’s Training?’

>>2035340
>>‘I thought you went straight to Officer’s Training?’

>>2035340
>>‘You know the Vice-Admiral?’

>>2035340
>‘Mind telling me what’s in the bag?’

>>2035348
>>2035352
>>2035381
>>2035397
Flipping a coin. Coin flipped.

File: Vice-Admiral.gif (1.73 MB, 500x327)

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You blink in surprise, almost stumbling in your stride.

‘You know the Vice-Admiral?’

That was a revelation. As far as you knew, the Vice-Admiral was an Imperial Ranger School graduate—a Ranger, period—before he had been whisked by the Admiralty to help in the effort to push back the Abyssals. Other than his history with Nachi through her late sister and the blur of his relationship to one of the Four Horsemen, there was virtually nothing that you had on him. That, of course, and the fact that his mother was part of an unspecified branch of the military before passing on in the line of the duty.

‘Not personally,’ she shrugs, shifting the bag under her arm, ‘but I heard about some kid who ran rings around the prospectus of the Imperial Ranger School a while back … that kind of thing gets around, Army, Navy or otherwise. It’s how legends are built, you know?’

‘I guess,’ you answer nonchalantly. ‘I never really bothered to ask him about what he did before he became a Commander.’

‘If Imperial Ranger School’s anything like that seminar I signed up for,’ she seems to wince at the very memory, pausing mid-step, ‘I’d put money on that it wouldn’t be a waste of time to pick up a few tips ‘n tricks … not that I’d know how that’d apply in your condition. From what I know, you sit in a chair and just tell your girls to point and fire guns at anything that’s black and moving faster than a locomotive.’

‘I take offence to that.’

You’re answered with a rough elbow to your prosthetic, which causes you to stumble slightly and lag behind her as she throws a smirk over her shoulder.

‘You’re meant to,’ she snorts. ‘Welcome to the front lines.’

Still, you can’t help but try to set the record straight.

‘It’s a lot more than just sitting around in a chair giving orders.’

She harrumphs, turning up her nose briefly before throwing you a glance.

‘Don’t doubt it—your brass covers up enough of the shallow details of your assignment to actually piss my brass off. At least we don’t hide that any mission or effort’s gonna end up with your death sentence. Yours keep romanticizing the crap out of it … I’ve seen the toys and the merchandise. That’s not how you fight a war.’

You frown, wondering if she was purposely being intrusive with the insults or just trying put in some good-natured ribbing at this point. She takes on a serious expression, staring dead at you as you turned the corner onto one of the clear main roads.

‘You don’t bring in people by telling them that there’s an off-chance of going brain-dead by stepping into the chair.’

It felt dirty trying to justify that. Even from your own perspective.

‘True,’ she nods, acknowledging your point, but not sounding hamstrung in the least, ‘but you shouldn’t try to bury it all under the sunshine and rainbows, either, right?’

>>2035637
>‘I’m not in charge of how they do things up there. I just fight.’ (Dismissive)
>‘You feel like it’s too blatant a lie?’ (Question)
>‘They do what they need to do to get the numbers—not that it’s working anymore, anyway.’ (Concede)
>‘You don’t think much of us at all, do you?’ (Retort)
>Change the topic (Specify)
>Don’t answer her, keep quiet the rest of the way
>Write-In

>>2035644
>>‘They do what they need to do to get the numbers—not that it’s working anymore, anyway.’ (Concede)

>>2035644
>>‘They do what they need to do to get the numbers—not that it’s working anymore, anyway.’ (Concede)

>>2035644
>>Write-In
"Thats true... but how else are we supposed to be doing in. 'Get in the pod and maybe die or everyone will die?' Volunteering for the military comes with that risk and I think that everyone who does so already knows that they might die; and its a choice that we all made anyways."

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>>2035673
>'Get in the pod and maybe die or everyone will die?'
Well it sort of worked for Shinji

>>2035644
>Write-In
"In times of war, even the history of a common soldier can be romanticized to the point of legend if it gets you more people, I don't see this being any different."

>>2035679
Good thing we're going Alpha timeline shinji then.

>>2035644
>‘They do what they need to do to get the numbers—not that it’s working anymore, anyway.’ (Concede)

>>2035685
As long as we don't go full anime shinji, I don't want to force mech to write about commander jacking it to an unconscious nachi in the hospital. That scene was pure cringe

>>2035713
In SRW Alpha shinji gets bright-slapped and mans up immensely.

>>2035713
Who knows, maybe nachi will be the one slicking to cmdr while he was koed

File: Fine Fine.jpg (142 KB, 800x1132)

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It was hard to deny it. Not that you ever intended to.

The Admiralty was indeed less-than-truthful about their recruitment campaign. They’d put up the KanMusu as saviours, Goddesses and celebrities on a platform they really shouldn’t have in the first place. You don’t know what you would have done in their stead, but you remember being hoodwinked the moment you saw one of the brigade coming through your town with faces of Kirishima, Hiei with all the fanfare that you were almost mistaken that the war was over already.

That hadn’t been the case at all.

Even the filtering of candidates was glum—the reality of several young men and women hoping to just make something of their lives, to make a difference … and how you’d ended up the lucky idiot to somehow make the cut but was deemed surplus to needs anyway. Reality had its way of—and there was no two ways about saying this—sucking compared to your preconceptions … and being a man of the world, you hadn’t thought much of it yourself. You’d sucked up and chewed on it.

They weren’t wrong—they were just desperate.

Neither was the Sergeant, for that matter.

‘They do what they need to do to get the numbers to apply—not that it’s working anymore, anyway.’

‘Well, considering what they advertised … do you blame people at all for losing their faith in the Admiralty?’

You have a brief vision of the four sisters on a poster in your old room, faded and frayed at the edges, but otherwise a constant in your old life, going through that door after work.

‘Maybe they were wrong to put the approach the way they did,’ you sigh, conceding the point, ‘but as one of those suckers that fell for it hook, line and sinker I can’t give any excuse … nor am I going to try to base anything up that I don’t know the long and short to.’

You throw her a glance.

‘Doesn’t make us any less than what you are, though—we’re fighting the same war, body bags don’t look any different from where I’m standing.’

She doesn’t answer, wearing a defeated grimace.

You walk down a few streets silently. The tension had made things a little awkward to actually just … talk. Around, you see several shadows—silhouettes—within the now-inhabited buildings. You must have passed the central part of town after making your way from the south-eastern quadrant. That’d make the commercial district just a few blocks over. You absently wonder how Fingers was doing—you hadn’t seen him since you were admitted.

‘We’re here.’

The both of you stop in front of what looked like an abandoned apartment house. The Sergeant on the door knocks on it. There was no knob on the door.

With a creak, it opens, revealing … a familiar old lady.

‘Why, Sergeant, hel—oh.’

She stares up at you, unimpressed.

>>2035900
>‘Don’t look at me. I didn’t expect to see you again, either.’
>‘You know her, Sergeant?’
>‘Hello, ma’am—nice to see you again.’
>Keep Quiet
>Write-In

>>2035904
>>‘You know her, Sergeant?’

>>2035904
>‘Hello, ma’am—nice to see you again.’

>>2035904
>‘Hello, ma’am—nice to see you again.’

>>2035904
>‘Hello, ma’am—nice to see you again.’

>>2035904
>‘You know her, Sergeant?’

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You’d hoped—not really, but you’d definitely not expected or anticipated—to see this particular old lady again. Small and wrinkled, her eyes beady and focused, she fully opens the door, eyeing you up and down with a look you could only describe as disgust. You open your mouth to apologize on the spot … but immediately realize that you were probably beyond apology at this point. You can hear the growl, even from here … and you can feel the guilt reaching out from the chambers of your heart just meeting her gaze. Still, you at least owed her your courtesy … even if an apology meant nothing.

‘Hello ma’am,’ you answer tightly, giving a nod and deep bow, ‘nice to see you again.’

She snorts in return.

‘At least your manners haven’t faded into myth,’ she returns with disdain. You don’t reply, straightening yourself out and giving her another nod—she doesn’t bother you at all, instead turning to the Sergeant, wearing an expression opposite that of the one that you were greeted with.

‘Sergeant, honestly, this better not be another one of your treats … we can’t keep accepting—’

‘It’s nothing big,’ the Sergeant gives a fond smile, dropping to one knee and setting the sack down. ‘Some of my crew sneaked some contraband in with the usual supplies … I just thought that they’d find better use here. I know how bad the gravy can taste after a seventh sitting of the same muck.’

She opens up the sack, revealing what appeared to be a variety of chocolate bars and sweets, lollipops and gum drops, all wrapped within brightly-coloured decorations. The old lady gasps, placing a hand on her chest as her eyes look from the sack full of candy to the brightly-grinning Sergeant.

‘Even so,’ she takes a step back—you manage to peer into the house, seeing it barren. ‘I don’t want to keep giving the children hope … the Army’s been so kind since they came to help out. Nothing like those MP brutes and their automatons strutting around like they belong here.’

You feel you temper rise.

‘Hey—’

A hand immediately presses itself against your belly, accompanied with a glare that warned you to behave—or else.

Despite feeling the obligation to defend your honour, you comply.

‘Well,’ the Sergeant picked up one of the chocolate bars. ‘That’s what we’re supposed to do around here—no sense sticking around without actually giving back, right?’

She laughs into a small, liver-spotted fist.

‘I’m sure the Commander here thinks so, too.’

The old woman stares up at you again, her glare as icy as it had been before.

‘Perhaps,’ she answers curtly as the Sergeant gets back to her feet. ‘Thank you again, Sergeant.’

‘No problem,’ she gives a playful salute. ‘Tell the kids I’ll bring my boys over for another round of baseball. Get ‘em doing something again.’

‘I’m sure they’ll like that.’

>>2036098
The Sergeant turns on her heel, walking away from the door—and you follow right behind. The Old Lady closes the door as you scamper away from her to catch up with your companion … who promptly stares at you with a curious look. Ahead, you hear the rumble of a buggy … and the screaming that could only come from the Old Man’s passengers, somewhere in this maze of a city.

‘They really don’t like you, do they?’

Sighing, you turn to the Sergeant.

>‘No more than usual.’ (Evasive)
>‘You’ve endeared yourself, at least.’ (Point Out)
>‘It’s more like … she has a problem with me. I screwed up.’ (Admit)
>Don’t Answer
>Write-In

>>2036118
>‘It’s more like … she has a problem with me. I screwed up.’ (Admit)

>>2036118
>>‘It’s more like … she has a problem with me. I screwed up.’ (Admit)

>>2036118
>‘You’ve endeared yourself, at least.’ (Point Out)

>>2036118
>‘It’s more like … she has a problem with me. I screwed up.’ (Admit)

>>2036118
>‘It’s more like … she has a problem with me. I screwed up.’ (Admit)

just to be sure, it's that crone that took blame for some random local thugs that beat our thugs and stole their food, we took her in and then got distracted by more important stuff (and kinda forgotten about her) until Fingers got her out of MP custody, yes?

Commander will have hard time getting the locals to warm up to him, especially considering how a lot of them seem to hold his charges in contempt.

>>2036546
That's about the size of it.

TEST

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‘It’s more like,’ you answer tightly, ‘she has a problem with me—I screwed up.’

‘Screwed up?’

This was one story you’d actually hoped to have buried and forgotten a long time ago … but as always, things caught up, no matter how insignificant and minute they were in your mind. Rubbing the back of your neck, you throw a grin—disarming, not smug or prideful—towards your walking companion, feeling the embarrassment rise and heating your cheeks up.

‘I sort of … brought her in for questioning,’ you begin your explanation hesitantly, kicking a stray rock towards the wall of a nearby building, ‘she was a suspect in a case involving several assaults at night—she wasn’t the culprit, of course, but … she was the only one coming forward claiming responsibility, so we couldn’t leave her well alone. So we ended up bringing her to the brig and handing her over to the MPs.’

To your surprise, she responds with an understanding nod.

‘Right,’ she says as the both of you walk up an alley back towards the main road, passing by two soldiers sitting on a large garbage bin, their guns on their laps as they enjoyed a smoke, ‘sounds reasonable. So what happened?’

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose.

‘I kind of forgot about her.’

The Sergeant frowns at you, her features morphing from their usual professionally stoic expression to

‘Huh?’

Perhaps understanding had been too far of a stretch. Your shoulders slumping, you lean back and let out a hiss of embarrassment. Easing into it hadn’t helped one bit, if at all.

‘The case slipped my mind,’ you elaborate, quickly and rushing through your words, almost stumbling on ever syllable you come across. ‘A lot happened and she … well, she ended up staying in the brig for a lot longer than I intended for her to. It wasn’t like I did it on purpose, but …’

As you trail off, you find yourself giving your temple a much-needed massage. It seemed that you were quite capable of placing yourself in headache-inducing situations without the external interference of a mental tightrope threatening to snap at the slightest movement—you don’t know why you thought you needed help here in the first place, truly.

‘No excuses though,’ you sigh, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, ‘and I don’t blame her for holding it against me.’

She lets out an audible snort.

‘So that’s why they haven’t been rolling the welcome wagon for you folks.’

You muddle with your answer—it wasn’t as if you she had had her arms wide open for you when you’d met her, either. You may have made it worse … but she’d hardly made it a cordial first meeting.

‘To be fair, they weren’t exactly doing that before, either.’

‘You expect them to care for so-called saviors that don’t even deliver?’

>>2041472
>'That was uncalled for.' (Chastise)
>'Big words coming from a side that can't even do the dying anymore.' (Antagonize)
>'I expect them to give the same courtesy anyone would anyone else.' (Steadfast)
>'Yes.' (Blunt)
>'If that's how it is, then ...' (Concede)
>Seethe Quietly
>Write-In

>>2041472
I have a huge confession to make here. I had huge writer's block on the character direction of the Sergeant and didn't want her to just be eye-candy, so I had to look up some attitude inclinations to try to make her more pressing but not so irritating to distant yourself from the dilemma of the presence of the KanMusu. I am really sorry for the long, long delay.

>>2041481
>'I expect them to give the same courtesy anyone would anyone else.' (Steadfast)

>>2041481
>>'I expect them to give the same courtesy anyone would anyone else.' (Steadfast)

>>2041481
>>'I expect them to give the same courtesy anyone would anyone else.' (Steadfast)

>>2041481
>'I expect them to give the same courtesy anyone would anyone else.' (Steadfast)

>>2041472

Is it so much to expect people to at least recognize those who lay down their lives for their benefit as someone from the same side? Sometimes I wonder why people treat the girls worse than the abyssals themselves.

Sigh.

Although come to think of it, maybe I’m just expecting too much of them to not lay out their frustrations on their protectors. We as people love to vent and blame and lash out, regardless of validity of the justification... I’ve done so myself, and I suppose the army has had a lot of experience with this even before the abyssals appeared.

Well, it still pisses me off.

>>2042691
they are marvel tier civies
still gotta do the job

the girls would hate us to death and beyond if we dropped them

>>2042693
Yes. Commander will have to find it in his heart to accept humanity's shortcomings. The little guys did.

Although dealing with admiralty clandestine operations will prove to be a tough nut to crack. I still find it difficult to believe that they managed to keep their most valuable ally oblivious to their practices, and that they are willing to risk being deprived of the only thing that allows them to fight at all. Then again, some game changer will be necessary if the war is going to go anywhere but south.

>>2042729
we managed to get musashi back on action and smashed a command abyssal
aint like routing a oni, but its something for the effort

still
we really need upgrade mats

>>2041481
>'I expect them to give the same courtesy anyone would anyone else.' (Steadfast)

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‘I expect them to give the same courtesy anyone would anyone else,’ you run a hand through your hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. ‘A day without being cussed out by the public is hardly unreasonable.’

The Sergeant says nothing for a while as they both of you walk uphill, the creases upon her brow indicating her deep within her own thoughts. You say nothing, either, feeling more apathetic to the topic as the moments ticked by. Sometimes, really, you wondered why Ikazuchi or Nachi—well, not Nachi, perhaps Samidare—didn’t just pull up their slacks and give it all up. They were brought here to help—they own the humans nothing, as far as the balance books were concerned.

‘The Admiralty’s mistake,’ the Sergeant speaks suddenly, right as you pass the borders of a residential area, ‘was how they presented the solution to the Abyssal War. When people see solutions, they want it immediately, they want it now. Saviours who aren’t saviours are synonymous with frauds—your campaign was doomed to fail in the aspect of currying favour. You should have fought the war with a low profile. In the eyes of the public, you’ve achieved nothing despite your credentials, your presentation; and fraudsters is, as far as they are concerned, what you and the Admiralty are.’

‘The KanMusu are soldiers just as much as you are.’

‘No, they’re not,’ she declares flatly—her answer somehow scrapes upon your ire in its bluntness, but you otherwise keep your peace. ‘You gave them as a solution to a problem that no one else could solve—and you pushed them as the only, the premier solution to something none of us could even comprehend. People are vicious, impatient … and most importantly, they’re scared of you failing.’

You spy a mix of me—civilian, MP and military—leaning against partly-crumbled wall. One of the men glares at you before turning his attention back to his friends.

‘Fifteen years is a long time,’ she continues. ‘Fear stews and broils … how do you think they feel seeing that the only thing that stands between them and the monsters in their closets stumbling like us mere mortals?’

‘Anger isn’t a response.’

‘They’re tired, they’re scared,’ she respond quickly. ‘and you made yourself the biggest target by putting yourself into the role of hope-bringer and problem-solver. Imagine a star slugger getting on bat and missing the game-winning swing they’ve been seeing him pull off time and time again? I’m surprised that the only thing that they’ve done is throw insults, frankly.’

You hear a snort.

‘They could do a lot worse: people aren’t built to be charitable.’

>>2042779

>‘Talking from experience?’ (Inquire)
>’It doesn’t justify it at all.’ (Comment)
>‘You are.’ (Comment)
>‘Well, then that’s something that they and I have in common, then.’ (Remark)
>‘I think they are. Just takes a little effort to bring it out.’
>‘That they’re not.’
>Stay Silent
>Write-In

>>2042780
>‘Talking from experience?’ (Inquire)
the moent shit swings our way you will see how they go "we where allways on your side"

and if they got a better idea, throw it my way, you bet your ass i would give aything to not be sending kanmusu alone to this

>>2042779

>I beg to differ. You’re making good points, but charity is as much part of us as disposition for fear or anger. We would never have made it this far otherwise. Even the fairies would never come to aid us if it weren’t the case.

>>2042788
this

>>2042780
>>2042788
This is a good write-in. This.

>>2042780
>>2042788
This

>>2042780
>You are.’ (Comment)

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‘I don’t agree with that at all.’

She stops underneath a tree, peaking out from another wrecked wall. You stop in your tracks, too, turning to face her as she wears an expression that teetered on smug condescension.

‘Oh?’

You try to sound as diplomatic as possible.

‘You make some good points,’ you concede, if only to start off, continuing, ‘but if you’re going to say that charity isn’t as ingrained into the human disposition as fear or anger, we wouldn’t have made it this far in the first place, would we?’

Her eyebrows raise slightly, before her shoulders quake and she snorts loudly, like a honking seagull, bringing a gloved hand to her mouth as she observes you, an amused expression making its way onto her features, her eyes practically lighting up with every suppression of her guffaw. She takes a few steps towards you, wearing a tired smile and placing her hands on her hips before shaking her head—you’d clearly said something that didn’t click all that well for her.

‘You’re giving a lot more credit than what’s actually due—I’m not sure to call you an idiot for that naivete or concede that someone can really be that optimistic.’

‘It’s hard to see the best in people,’ you nod, taking a sharp intake of breath, ‘but if I didn’t do that for others … then I wouldn’t be anything more than a hypocrite myself. Seeing the worst in them, at rock bottom, being selfish and conceited … I think that most of us have been there. I don’t think any of us likes what they see in the mirror in that kind of situation.’

‘It’s what people really are, then,’ she shrugs, gesturing towards the rebuilt town behind the both of you. ‘When they’re rock bottom.’

You nod again.

‘Maybe—doesn’t mean that what they are at their worst is who they want or wish to be.’

‘A lot of us don’t,’ she concedes herself, her tone taking a mode familiar with that of a chastising teacher. ‘Wishing that something wasn’t doesn’t discount someone—anyone—from an action or stance that they had taken for the sake of their own selves. I could put a bullet between a child’s eyes and tell myself I wish I hadn’t the next day, but I did it. I believed in the action of it.’

She practically spits out that last part.

‘You can’t tell me you expect courtesy on the notion that a change of circumstances would make it any less artificial,’ she sighs, her lips making a ‘Fake smiles, fake laughter—they would still despise you, their moods only changing because of something that you had done. It wouldn’t make it worth any less … or more than what you had. It’d only end up devaluing what little worth that hatred they had for you in the first place.’

>>2044758

>‘Speaking from experience?’
>‘I’m cashing my chips in with human decency … even if it doesn’t come natural.’
>‘You’re saying that you put more stock in how low we can sink over how we can learn and step up?’
>‘Maybe you’re right. Doesn’t mean I agree, though.’
>Don’t Answer/Stay Silent

>>2044758
>>Don’t Answer/Stay Silent

>>2044761
>>‘Maybe you’re right. Doesn’t mean I agree, though.’

>>2044761
>‘Maybe you’re right. Doesn’t mean I agree, though.’

>>2044761
>>‘You’re saying that you put more stock in how low we can sink over how we can learn and step up?’

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You sigh.

You didn’t want to agree with her, but … maybe she did have a point. However the fairies saw humanity, you really didn’t have enough in front of your eyes to think of it as anything but a mass of rude, ungrateful entity that reacted without thought or consideration until it got what it thought it always wanted … and then complaining anyway. Perhaps you were being a little too cruel with your presumptions, but the more you thought about it, the more you wondered—once again—why Nagato, why any of them would feel that it was their duty to be raised from whatever void the Shamans had pulled them from … for the sake of a populace that had once celebrated, but now held nothing but contempt for them.

‘Maybe you’re right,’ you reluctantly agree with her, feeling your tongue grow as heavy as lead, before quickly adding, ‘but it doesn’t mean that I agree with you, though.’

She only hums in response, gesturing for you to follow her. You continue your journey in silence, the once casual air of welcome company replaced with a heavier, more solemn tolerance of one another’s presences. Around you, you spy abandoned houses—while there were still a host of people now out in the middle of the town areas, the more suburban locales of Yokosuka still looked like a ghost town. There was some graffiti on the walls, some bushes had gone untrimmed, their leaves turning brown and wilting with the change of season. You rub your shoulders for warmth, wondering briefly why she didn’t feel the same way about the weather as you had … but she was Army. If anything, she’d probably evolved a second layer of skin to keep warm.

You continue downhill and out of the suburban neighbourhood, catching a glimpse of Shigure’s workplace—the MagiTek Department’s home away from home—as you continue walking, a curious thought on if they could construct some portable heaters for casual use playing in your mind.

It’s not long before you come up to a fence with barbed wire at the top, a pillbox at the end … and looking through the fence to see a helicopter landing zone right on the other side, along with what appeared to be several of the Army’s personal enforcement brigade marching within the compound holding rifles and leading dogs on. There weren’t many tents … but the few that were there were large enough to give your barracks a run for their money.

‘Come on.’

You jog alongside the Sergeant towards the pillbox, where a goateed Army MP stood, his rifle slung over his shoulder. He gives her a nod, gesturing for her to enter the compound … and finding him immediately glaring at you when you move to follow her.

Sheepishly, you raise your tags, prompting a scrutinizing gaze from the MP … before he gives his approval, giving an affirmative nod.

You walk up to the Sergeant, standing in the middle of the compound.

‘Phone box is there.’

>>2045060
She points to a … not a tent, but some kind of boxed structure with a canvas top. Smaller than the rest, but otherwise coloured in the same dull, dark brownish green, the word LOUNGE clumsily fastened at the top in a lazy patch job. Apparently the last sign had either broken off and fallen over and no one had bothered to put in an effort to give a proper replacement.

‘I got some reports to review and hand in, so good luck, Commander.’

>‘You mind giving me a quick rundown of this place?’
>‘Errands?’
>‘Is there anyone I can talk to around here?’
>‘All right—thanks, Sergeant.’
>Write-In

>>2045072
>>‘All right—thanks, Sergeant.’

>>2045072
>>‘All right—thanks, Sergeant.’
"See you around."

>>2045072
>>‘You mind giving me a quick rundown of this place?’

>>2045072
>>‘All right—thanks, Sergeant.’
REALLY need to make that phone call

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‘All right,’ you nod, giving a friendly salute. ‘

You take a good look around.

There weren’t any rank-and-file soldiers around. Almost everyone within the compound either had some kind of tag that indicated rank or was an MP with a blue helmet. The place was crisp, clean—no boxes at all, but there was a mess of cables that you could make out coming from every single structure within the compound that was at least connected to a unique generator. You step out of the way as a pair of MPs make their way past you, hoisting identical rifles to the one in front. Some of the men afford you with a curious look, but don’t say anything. You must have resembled some sort of lost tourist giving the place a good look from your spot. There were several trucks sticking out from behind some of the large tents—and a police van in Army colours for some reason—and a large antennae sticking out of two of the larger ones. You notice several men walking in and out from each of the structures, most of them wearing caps and carrying clipboards reminiscent of Ooyodo and your attendants.

‘They’re not listening to anyone—even their Admiral.’

‘How do they expect us to run our schedules if they don’t want to put theirs up?’

‘Hey, isn’t that a civilian?’

‘Supplies aren’t going to come in any time soon … they’re more prepared to ship out some old rifle stocks than food, generators and workshed kits, I swear to—’

‘How’s the kid handling things? I don’t care how much of a prodigy they call you, you can’t say—’

‘Did you catch the game last night?’

You make eye contact with a middle-aged man—powerfully built with square shoulders—disengaging from conversation with a technician or mid-level officers of sorts, judging by the headphones around his neck, who gives you a gruff nod before heading towards the largest tent in the compound … only to see him stopped by another familiar face: it was the Priest.

‘Colonel!’ he calls out, waddling over to the man, whose face immediately gains fatigue upon turning towards him. ‘Colonel, please, if you’d have a moment—I talked with one of your Majors, there can’t—’

‘Sir,’ he answers in a low voice, ‘if it can’t be done at lower levels, then my approval means moot. I cannot veto a decision if the logistics of it aren’t—’

‘Please,’ he presses desperately. ‘There aren’t enough go—’

‘We can send more supplies,’ he interrupts, ‘run more security up and get a medic on deck, but we’re swamped as it is. I’m sorry.’

As the Priest opens his mouth to protest, the Colonel walks into the tent, past the two MPs standing watch. You see his shoulders slump, before squaring up again, moving to follow the man into the tent … only to be stopped in his tracks by a raised hand and a disapproving stare.

You bite your lip, throwing a glance towards the entrance to the Lounge.

>>2045260
>Approach the Priest
>Enter THE LOUNGE
>Approach the LARGE TENT ON YOUR RIGHT
>Attempt to enter the LARGEST TENT IN THE COMPOUND
>Approach the BUILDING ON YOUR RIGHT
>Approach one of the idle MP/Officers
>Leave
>Write-In

>>2045268
>>Approach the Priest

Fuuuuug. The phonecall but this is the only right choice.

>>2045260
>>Enter THE LOUNGE
we've got our own problem to deal with

>>2045268
>>Enter THE LOUNGE

Will this eat into our time?

>>2045268
>Approach the Priest

tell me your secerts god

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>>2045324

>Approach the Priest

>>2045268
>Approach the Priest
........fuck, let's make this fast, I don't want to die.

>>2045351
We can take it up now and complete it later after we come back from the shamans. Unless it's something we can sign off and help with, immediately.

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You move to approach the Priest, despite your better judgement.

After your previous encounter with him, you’d put him high on a list of people you wouldn’t mind never seeing ever again. Not even putting your own thoughts on your unfortunately-shared faith forward, he was hardly a man that you would have put up as a conversationalist that was any more engaging than a Princess was a friend of humanity. Still—it wasn’t in you to turn down an opportunity to help … or to ignore your curiosity once it was at a certain point.

You raise a friendly hand to the Priest, who, predictably, wears a wary gaze as he meets your stare.

‘Commander.’

He bows.

Remembering your own manners, you drop into one of your own.

‘Pastor.’

The both you say nothing, the shorter man sizing you up as much as you did him. You didn’t know how to proceed. You didn’t want to sound like a busy-body—despite totally being one—and you didn’t want to aggravate the string that held his temper in check any more than you wanted another MASH stay under Akashi or a report review from Ooyodo or Yuubari. Still, you also didn’t want to just stand around like an idiot, either. Sighing, you move to get straight to the point. If he yelled at you to go and mind your own business, you could at least tell yourself that you’d tried to be as concise as possible.

‘Is there a reason that you’re here?’

Predictably, he puffs his chest, the diamond-shaped dragon on his chest rattling as he squared right up to you.

‘My reasons are my own—do you see me poking my nose into whatever nonsense you have in mind, Commander?’

You snort, eyeing him with a disdain shaped from your own thoughts. It seemed that the courtesy that you had afforded one another last time had failed to carry over at all into this point. You raise your hands, shaking your head and wearing a smile so forced that you could feel your gums creaking from the strain.

‘All right, then,’ you reply, baring your teeth in the most friendly way possible, ‘I was just trying to indulge in my curiosity—no need to be hostile, Pastor.’

He harrumphs loudly, prompting you to step away and continue with your own endeavours. You’d just been—

‘If you must push, however,’ he suddenly declares, catching your attention again, ‘there has been a small outbreak of fever amongst the children—I came here to request a medical unit to come assist. However, there aren’t many to spare … and even less to give constant care to children. I am not worried of anything serious, of course, but, um …’

He clears his throat.

‘The Army has facilities that they have given before. It is just … strange that they’ve withheld it now, especially with the, um, weather.’

>>2045505
>'Medical? Don't the crews run around on shifts anyway? What's the problem?'
>'If you need treatment, the MASH should have more than enough space for constant care.'
>'So you need to convince the Colonel to open up his heart? Tough.'
>'Well, can't help you there.'
>Write-In

>>2045510
>>'Medical? Don't the crews run around on shifts anyway? What's the problem?'

>>2045510
>'Medical? Don't the crews run around on shifts anyway? What's the problem?'

>>2045510
>>'Medical? Don't the crews run around on shifts anyway? What's the problem?'

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‘Medical? Don’t the crews run on shifts anyway?’

‘They do—of course they do,’ he huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. For someone who was more educated, more versed in your faith than yourself, he sure fell into the pitfalls a lot quicker than you would have expected someone of the cloth.

You bring a hand to your chin, stroking the little stubble that was left.

‘What’s the problem, then?’

‘The problem,’ he begins snootily, almost making you roll your eyes in reponse, ‘is everything—winter is on the books and the shelters are hardly up. While many of the denizens town have had their shelters assigned, we have yet to be given proper transport inland or a proper place to call shelter. Relief supplies are not unlimited in number, and keeping them constant is a chore, especially in trying times like this—your own flock must need its own tending to, does it not?’

‘Look, if you’re going to beat around the bush, then—’

‘I am not beating anything!’

His ferocity, rather than having you step back in surprise, has you regarding him with a flat gaze, unamused. You’d stared too many things that could have ended you in the spot to humour any sort of intimidation by this loon, well-meaning as he was.

‘You asked me a question and I sated your curiosity,’ he huffs arrogantly, placing his large hands on his hips. ‘I am here to re-negotiate terms with this blowhard of a Colonel for the sake of the children. I do not know why you are here nor do I care. If that’s enough for you, I have business to attend to.’

You narrow your eyes.

For some reason, the picture of the Sergeant turning up her nose with a smirk was strangely relevant right now.

>‘Don’t let me stop you.’ (Leave)
>‘Have you tried asking the Admiralty? We’ve got lots of space in the MASH if you need it.’ (Offer)
>‘Tough luck then.’ (Snide remark)
>Write-In

>>2045560
>‘Have you tried asking the Admiralty? We’ve got lots of space in the MASH if you need it.’ (Offer)
fucking bleeding heart of mine
on the plus side
might help our popularity with the town

>>2045560
>>‘Have you tried asking the Admiralty? We’ve got lots of space in the MASH if you need it.’ (Offer)
>>Write-In
"If you need to I can also make a call to see what they do, lend some extra weight."

>>2045560
>‘Have you tried asking the Admiralty? We’ve got lots of space in the MASH if you need it.’ (Offer)

>>2045560
>>‘Have you tried asking the Admiralty? We’ve got lots of space in the MASH if you need it.’ (Offer)

>>2045560
If it’s space that’s the issue, can’t Fingers and company get some sort of communal shelter up and running?

>>2045577
It's everything. Autumn's cold, as you have noticed. That means kids are getting more prone to fevers and such--and the plaza is still a commercial/leisure place for people to come and get reprieve. With construction pretty much done, even they're sleeping in the assigned quarters now. All the Pastor wants to do is bring the kids back inland, but like what's said before, problems are problems.

File: HERETIC.png (64 KB, 240x240)

64 KB PNG

‘Have you tried asking the Admiralty?’

‘The Admiralty?’

You rub your shoulder, thinking back to all those empty beds. It was long enough from the Assault that the MASH should be void of the majority of the patients … and while Akashi lacked bedside manner,

‘If anything, there’s probably more space for you to let the kids take over the sleeping bags and the tent that you have running,’ you begin tentatively. ‘I’m sure Akashi wouldn’t mind organizing a proper medical crew to take care of your needs … there’re beds, food. At least until you sort your transport situation up.’

He reels back, as if you’d just smacked him across the face with your prosthetic.

‘You expect me to—you expect the children to be at the mercy of those … heathens?’

You sigh, holding yourself back from rising to the bait. You run a hand over your face, gathering all the patience you could muster.

‘The Army’s hardly a bastion for the faith, Pastor. I’m surprised that you have diff—!’

‘There is a marked difference between consorting with the unnatural and the eldritch and asking a non-believer’s mercy to deliver kindness upon us!’

He jabs a finger—painfully—into your chest, the veins on his face popping as he glares right up at you.

‘I may have tolerated the continued interference of your slattern of a woman, but make no mistake, I will not allow my faith—or theirs—to be sullied by the continued presence of those blasphemous constructs you call your saviours. You call yourself a man of the faith—a hypocrite, practising by convenience, is the only truth I see in your eyes.’

>‘Okay, that’s it. You listen and you listen good.’ (Affirm your stance)
>‘You came here asking for help. I’m just offering it.’ (Passive)
>‘I’m sure your kids idolize you; really.’ (Antagonize)
>‘I don’t have time for this.’ (Leave)
>Write-In

>>2045598
>‘You came here asking for help. I’m just offering it.’ (Passive)

>>2045598
>>‘You came here asking for help. I’m just offering it.’ (Passive)
hate dealing with zealots

>>2045598
>>‘You came here asking for help. I’m just offering it.’ (Passive)

>>2045598
>‘I’m sure your kids idolize you; really.’ (Antagonize)

>>2045598
I take it Mithra or one of the other messengers did not have a story to tell about a kind Samaritan-equivalent... oh well.
>>‘You came here asking for help. I’m just offering it.’ (Passive)

>>2045598
>>‘Okay, that’s it. You listen and you listen good.’ (Affirm your stance)

Let’s just not lose our cool. If he feels this strongly, challenging him face on will only antagonize and entrench him. It’d be best to just calmly ask him a question or two and hope he’ll at least be honest with himself.

I’d like to think we’ve enough of a measure of the man to be sufficiently immunized to his outbursts.

>>2045622
(this is not a vote btw, already phonevoted in >>2045611)

>>2045646
>Approach one of the idle MP/Officers
oohh boy

>>2045646
>Approach one of the idle MP/Officers
Yo where the phone at

File: YOU HERETIC.jpg (151 KB, 1920x1080)

151 KB JPG

‘You came here asking for help,’ ‘I’m just asking—offering it.’

‘I accepted your help once as a fellow servant of the faith,’ he snorts loudly, ‘I will not be cajoled into consorting with—with them, whatever their intentions are.’

You couldn’t believe your ears. This was nonsensical.

‘Listen to yourself, you’re—’

‘I will do as I have,’ he rumbles, interrupting you. ‘I do not need or want your pity or charity if it means continued association with those abominations. Humans as they look, as they are to touch, I will not be fooled as you have by whatever spell they have put on you.’

‘No one’s going—’

‘I do not wish to pursue this matter any further,’ he declares curtly, turning on his heel. ‘Goodbye, young man.’

He places his hands within his large sleeves, trudging away from you and leaving the compound in a huff. You swear you could see steam coming out from his collar as he moves out of your sight and through the suburban areas. You shake your head, a little regretful now that you hadn’t spoken up a little bit louder, a little bit harsher—maybe he could have listened to reason, then.

What was done was done, though. Right now, you had—

—creak—

You wince, raising a hand to the side of your head.

There were bigger fish to fry, for now.

>Enter THE LOUNGE
>Approach the LARGE TENT ON YOUR RIGHT
>Attempt to enter the LARGEST TENT IN THE COMPOUND
>Approach the BUILDING ON YOUR RIGHT
>Approach one of the idle MP/Officers
>Leave
>Write-In

>>2045598
>>‘You came here asking for help. I’m just offering it.’ (Passive)

>>2045651
>>Enter THE LOUNGE

>>2045651
My vote >>2045650

>>2045651
>>Enter THE LOUNGE

>>2045651
>Enter the Lounge
Sergeant already told us that's where the phone is. Here's hoping we won't have to fight someone for use of it.

>>2045669
knowing our luck?
its probably an oni or something

>>2045651
>Enter THE LOUNGE

Time is ticking

>>2045651
>Enter THE LOUNGE

>>2045651
>Enter THE LOUNGE

File: Army Loue.jpg (10 KB, 259x194)

10 KB JPG

You enter the lounge, walking up the small ramp and pushing the swinging doors.

Immediately, you’re greeted by … scented air.

The place was by no means a palace, but it most certainly did look comfortable. There were couches on either end of the room, with small potted plants in each of those spaces and tables stacked with magazines. There was a table hockey set in the middle of the lounge, unmanned with the puck and sticks on one end. There was what looked like a well-used war board or diagram on the wall to your left, with pockmarks and scribbles across all the continents known to man … accompanied with a large paper sheet stuck onto it, that you notice—even from this distance—was a requisition form that had found another use … the blue marker ink saying DO NOT KNOCK ON WALL giving a clear indication of its new purpose. The lights were at least properly set in and the place was clean with what looked like a snack bar and a donation box way at the back of the room behind two flat long tables, where you spied two men chatting animatedly over something unintelligible. In a corner of the room you see a line of two more soldiers—two MPs—waiting outside a phone booth that had a laundry list of regulations written on a paper by the side. It looked like they were waiting for someone who was already using it, judging by the foot sticking out.

On one of the couches was a large man, snoozing with a magazine on chest as a woman—that you recognized as one of the gym attendees from the Instructor’s establishment—was going over several reports.

‘Excuse me.’

You whirl around and step out of the way as a tech officer—if his manner of dress was anything to go by—steps right past you, heading over to the snack bar.

>Head over to the Phone Booth
>Approach the sleeping large man and the busy-looking woman
>Approach the two men at the snack bar
>Talk to the Tech Officer
>Knock on the wall
>Write-In

>>2046849
>Head over to the Phone Booth

>>2046849
>Head over to the Phone Booth

>>2046849
>>Head over to the Phone Booth

>>2046849
>Head over to the phone booth
let's get in line before it gets longer

>>2046849
>>Head over to the Phone Booth

>>2046849
>>Head over to the Phone Booth

File: Short Guy.jpg (7 KB, 209x125)

7 KB JPG

You head over to the phone booth. Anything else that would come could wait for later. Right now … you had to make that phone call. The room largely ignored your presence—which you were actually thankful for. Helping around the Army doing odds and ends hadn’t been a waste of time at all; with the tag in your hands, there was no one questioning your arrival into the compound, nor the fact that you were in line to pick up that phone and dial a number whose owner hopefully held a solution to your …

—creak—

Problem.

Sorry. Slipped.

‘Hey.’

You raise your head—you’d briefly stumbled from that attack, bumping into the shorter MP that stood ahead of you. He whirls around and glares, his eyes throwing daggers before his expression turns into one of concern.

‘You all right, man?’

‘Migraine,’ you lie—not that the truth was that far a stretch, though; you just didn’t think anyone could understand how spiritual and mental weight carried over in the way you’d explain it. ‘Forgot to take my pills.’

That was the truth, though.

‘My old aunt,’ he shakes his head, ‘she used to get a whole lot of those. Didn’t last long without her pills, she didn’t—always poppin’ and poppin’, scared that every time she missed her cue, she’d end up in a coffin and then one day she forgot to wake up for her mornin’ pills … and next thing you know, she’s right as rain, didn’t need anymore, didn’t want anymore. It’s all in the mind, see? If you ever get a headache, if you ever feel like something’s wrong with your head, all you need to do is remember—you are healthy and you ain’t got no need for somethin’ on the hour.’

You offer a tight smile, the enthusiasm in his voice was catching, but you really didn’t feel like engaging with someone you barely knew right now.

‘You’re one of those Admiral guys, aren’t you?’

You tilt your head before nodding.

‘You here to use the phone, too?’

A quick observation of the shorter man had you observing that he probably wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. Still, it’d be rude not to give a proper response—to which you nod again.

‘One of my sisters applied once—didn’t make it through the first stage; they said that there was somethin’ wrong with her head. Not enough room or somethin’. I mean, how much head room could ya need just to sit down and tell people what to do, huh?’

You don’t give a verbal response, rubbing your temples and allowing a tight smile to bloom.

‘I bet I’d be good at that,’ he turns to the man in front of him, ‘you think I’d be good at that?’

‘No.’

The answer is blunt, dismissive and the man doesn’t even turn to look at the asker. He huffs, turning back to you.

‘You’re an Admiral, right—ya think I got the stuff?’

You really didn’t have time for this.

>>2047227
>'You look the part.' (Positive answer)
>'It's not just sitting down and telling the KanMusu what to do.' (Educate him)
>'I'd say that you're perfect for it. Really, I do.' (Sarcasm)
>'I'm not a judge for talent or potential; if you want to see if you've got the stuff, apply.' (Realistic)
>'No.' (Blunt)
>Shrug dismissively
>Write-In

>>2047242
>>'I'm not a judge for talent or potential; if you want to see if you've got the stuff, apply.' (Realistic)
tell him we were barely selected to be a Commander

>>2047242
>>'It's not just sitting down and telling the KanMusu what to do.' (Educate him)

Brief overview at least. Making references and parallels to bandwidth. We'll be coming here to do stuff, pays to be polite at least.

>>2047242
>'It's not just sitting down and telling the KanMusu what to do.' (Educate him)

>>2047242
>'It's not just sitting down and telling the KanMusu what to do.' (Educate him)

>>2047242
>>'I'm not a judge for talent or potential; if you want to see if you've got the stuff, apply.' (Realistic)

File: I Would Like To Welcome T(...).jpg (1.8 MB, 2100x1500)

1.8 MB JPG

‘I’m not an Admiral,’ you correct him, tapping the emblem on your left breast. ‘I’m a Commander.’

He shrugs casually as his lips crumpled, his shoulders moving as his body—amusingly—bounced with the motion.

‘Sorry, can’t tell the difference from where I’m standing,’

You narrow your good eye slightly, feeling a little offended that he was so … nonchalant with his approach, especially after opening up conversation with you in the first place. Feeling the need to disperse some of that recently-gathered heat, you take a book right of Nagato’s book, crossing your arms and fixing him with a flat, unamused stare, your whole thought train shifting

‘And the job isn’t just about sitting down and telling the KanMusu what to do,’ you say with emphasis. ‘The screening process is highly detailed … most of it involves testing your mental and spiritual tolerance, how much you can endure at the hands of the machines and the KanMusu. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows.’

‘My sister told me she got as far as the second day,’ he shrugs again. ‘Didn’t seem like much to me.’

‘The written examination’s to serve as a prelude for what’s to come,‘ you reveal further, grimacing as you remember the face of the scowling late Vice-Admiral. ‘It’s not so much an intelligence evaluation … but more to see how high the probability of your personality causing undue influence on the stress test that comes after. It’s not easy to pass … and even harder to convince the proctors if you manage to get just a passing score instead of something that has you standing out.’

‘That like a dating circle or somethin’?’

‘Basic tactical knowledge, being able to endure having a bunch of electronic apparatus stuck into your skull and risking brain death is hardly something you’d call a screening process a dating circle for,’ you continue your lecture, massaging your eyepatch. ‘In a lot of ways, I guess you can equate it to being in charge of military equipment that if you break, you pay out of your own pocket—only your wallet is whatever firing neurons you got left up there.’

You huff, staring him down.

‘So no, it’s not just sitting down and telling people what to do,’

He nervously waves his hands and takes a step back, barely missing the man behind him.

‘No offence, friend,’ he slips a friendly wink. ‘Just thought it’d be nice—being charge of your own brigade of warrior women that can level a whole city block with a cannon. Sounds like a dream job from here.’

His eyes widen, and once again he steps up to you, curiosity practically blazing in his eyes.

‘Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have met Battleship Haruna before, have you?’

>‘You like KanMusu?’ (Question)
>‘Once. She saved my ass, believe it or not.’ (Confess)
>‘No, I haven’t.’ (Lie/Dismissive)
>Don’t respond
>Write-In

>>2047641
>>‘Once. She saved my ass, believe it or not.’ (Confess)
>>Write-In
"Hiel's better~"

>>2047641
>>‘Once. She saved my ass, believe it or not.’ (Confess)

#notallhumans

>>2047641
>>‘Once. She saved my ass, believe it or not.’ (Confess)

>>2047641
>>‘Once. She saved my ass, believe it or not.’ (Confess)

>>2047641
>>‘You like KanMusu?’ (Question)

>>2047641
>>‘Once. She saved my ass, believe it or not.’ (Confess)
>She's cool when you get to know her

>>2047641

>‘You like KanMusu?’ (Question)
>‘Once. She saved my ass, believe it or not.’ (Confess)

File: RING RING RING.jpg (22 KB, 281x257)

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You weren’t quite sure how the brass would take you revealing sensitive information … but an anecdote probably wouldn’t hurt if you were vague enough with the details. It wasn’t as if he was going to go straight to the brass—or whatever you would be willing to tell him—with it … and it didn’t hurt to actually reach out a willing hand to someone who, while probably lost in the romantic ideal of what the KanMusu were, didn’t harbour any more ill intention than your average poster-slobbery enthusiast. Probably. Maybe.

‘Once,’ you admit, remembering that day—night—like it was yesterday … no matter how much you didn’t want to at times. ‘She saved my ass, believe it or not.’

‘No kidding?’

‘Not at all,’ you give him a nod, grimacing, ‘I don’t think I would’ve made it out of that pickle alive without her Squadron. She’s definitely something.’

‘Definitely,’ he nods in agreement. ‘I mean, my sisters always told me that I was just dreamin’ lookin’ at my posters and talkin’ smack about ‘em … they ain’t that bad in real life, right? Some of the guys I know who tried to put their names in for the Admiralty said that some of ‘em are pretty … uppity.’

‘No different than your usual flavour of human,’ you pause, the gears of your head briefly churning before continuing, ‘but they do operate on a … different level from us. They’re the same, they got their likes and dislikes, but at the end of the day, no different at all from a soldier that’s hoisting a gun and digging the trenches. Not at all.’

‘I’ve seen ‘em running around … I mean, it’s kinda hard to pin-point ‘em until ya see that they’re the only ones without grime and muck on their hands and knees, yeah?’ he laughs. You notice that the room was beginning to take attention to your conversation … or finally being aware of your presence.

He whistles, placing his hands on his hips.

‘Man, sometimes I wonder who the templates for those gals are, yeah? They look like supermod—’

A buzzer sounds. Immediately, there is a low groan rumbling around the room. They begin to disperse, the large man tossing his magazine onto the table and the woman gathering her things. The man in front of you grimaces while the booth is quickly emptied and the man right after gives him a quick smack on the shoulder, to which you are greeted by a friendly grimace.

‘Duty calls. See ya, Admiral!’

You move to correct him … before shaking your head. The phone booth was empty now.

You approach the box, reading the instructions swiftly before lifting the handle off the receiver. You dial for an outward call. Taking out the piece of paper from your pocket, you mumble the number to yourself.

Hopefully whoever was on the other end wouldn’t mind collect.

It rings. Beep after beep.

Then you hear the handle being picked up … but no voice from the other end.

>>2048173
>[RECITE THE PASSWORD/PHRASE]
>'Hello, anyone there?'
>'Is this, um, the First Admiral's friend?'
>Put down the phone
>Write-In

>>2048177
>[RECITE THE PASSWORD/PHRASE]

>>2048177
>>[RECITE THE PASSWORD/PHRASE]

>>2048177
>>[RECITE THE PASSWORD/PHRASE]

>>2048177
>>[RECITE THE PASSWORD/PHRASE]

MECH is having net issues. Expect some delays.

break time, Mech's net is shitting the bed

TEST

File: Who Is On The Other End.jpg (170 KB, 1022x1460)

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You glance at the words the First Admiral had put down on the piece of paper, momentarily mumbling before reciting them:

As the stone shapes into steel,
And the blade is to the hand,
By the embers of this boon,
You may call me friend

Silence reigns from the other end. Your shoulder slump; so much for—

‘You have a very twisted definition of the word friend,’ an eloquent, bemused, and at the same time, very gruff voice returns, ‘calling collect. ‘

You stammer, almost dropping the phone from your fingers.

‘Sorry, uh,’ you bite your lip, wincing as you—with no surprise at all—realize that you’d started off on the wrong foot … again, before continuing, ‘it was the only way I could … reach you.’

‘If I recall correctly,’ he takes a ponderous tone on the other end of the line, ‘I believe that I gave that password to a curmudgeonly old bat—or is my memory, like many of my attributes … failing me?’

‘No, sir, uh … the First Admiral gave me this number,’ you reveal, rubbing the back of your neck. ‘She said that if I ever needed … if I could ever use some help, to uh, use it.’

Again, for a moment, there is silence from the other end.

‘Do you even know what this number is for, young man?’

You close your eyes, remembering the First Admiral’s warning … and your promise to Iowa.

‘It’s for whenever I felt desperate enough to use it.’

‘Then times must be dire indeed for you to call me,’ you hear a chuckle on the other end, ‘on collect, too.’

‘So what can this old man do for you? Other than have his phone bill racked up from the beastly rates of this nation? Mondanar would be green with envy, truly.’

>‘How are you associated with the First Admiral?’
>‘Who are you? A … Shaman? An Admiral? Are you with the ISSF?’
>‘I need your help—I don’t know if you can, but I’m running out of time and I’m … desperate.’
>Write-In

>>2048694
>>‘I need your help—I don’t know if you can, but I’m running out of time and I’m … desperate.’

>>2048694
>>‘I need your help—I don’t know if you can, but I’m running out of time and I’m … desperate.’

>>2048694
>‘I need your help—I don’t know if you can, but I’m running out of time and I’m … desperate.’

>>2048694
>>‘I need your help—I don’t know if you can, but I’m running out of time and I’m … desperate.’

>>2048694
>>‘I need your help—I don’t know if you can, but I’m running out of time and I’m … desperate.’

>>2048694
>‘I need your help—I don’t know if you can, but I’m running out of time and I’m … desperate.’

>>2048694
>‘I need your help—I don’t know if you can, but I’m running out of time and I’m … desperate.’
creak

File: I Have My Ways.jpg (51 KB, 361x321)

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‘I don’t know if you can—Hell, I could be wrong, but,’ you hesitate for a moment, before continuing, ‘I need your help; I’m running out of time, and I’m desperate.’

‘Desperate enough to gamble with a phone number whose owner is an unknown,’ he says dryly. ‘I could be a villain or a quantity unneeded—what makes you think that someone on the other end could give you what you could possibly need?’

‘I don’t know.’

Your answer is quick, and it is—predictably—greeted by no reply. Nonetheless, you push on. You’d told Houshou that you’d sort this out … and this was the only way you knew how. You were scared—in your arrogance and stupidity, you’d a promise that you didn’t know you could fulfil; you’d foolishly rushed in because someone actually opened up and accepted you as you had seldom been throughout your whole life … and you’d be damned if you would break that bond with something as petty as your own survival. Not like this—not when, for once in your life, you’d put the chips on a bet that wouldn’t have worked on any other day.

You couldn’t do it. Even if you had to pick one of those connections to throw and were held at gunpoint to make that choice, you wouldn’t. Not when it meant so much more to you than just some combat advantage.

‘All I know is that … I’m way in over my head now,’ you bury your head face into the cold steel of your prosthetic, ‘and if you are who I think you are, sir, you’re probably the only one who can get me out of this foxhole I’ve made for myself.’

‘And who do you think I am?’

‘The only Shaman that’s willing to lend a finger.’

For a moment, there’s silence.

‘Then I am correct to presume that you are one of the Admiralty’s lackeys, then?’

‘Commander of the Yokosuka First Operations Division,’ you declare.

‘I heard what happened. You are the only ones left standing amongst the three bastions, aren’t you?’

‘More or less,’ you reluctantly admit.

‘Then what do you need of this old man?’

‘I,’ you pause for a bit, trying to gather the most relevant terms, cutting out the fat, ‘I need you to train me. I … I bit off more than I could chew. My Stream, it’s … it’s failing. I’m putting too much strain on it. I don’t know when it’s going to snap, I …’

You close your eyes, letting out a breath.

‘If you can help … please.’

For a moment, there is silence, and you half-expect him to put down the phone and leaving you to your misery.

‘Yokosuka, was it? I shall be there by the evening.’

‘Thank you. The address is—!’

‘No need, young one—I’ll know how to find you,’ he says dismissively. ‘So if you’ll excuse me, I have to start packing my things. See you tonight, young one.’

The call ends. You place the phone on the receiver, letting out a sigh.

It was all up to fate now.

>>2048727
>EXECUTE TASK: EVERYBODY WAS KUNG-FU FIGHTING
>EXECUTE TASK: FONT OF KNOWLEDGE
>Look for KanMusu (Specify)
>Seek out Officers/Staff (Specify)
>Visit Location (Specify)
>District Management
>Write-In

>>2048728
>>EXECUTE TASK: EVERYBODY WAS KUNG-FU FIGHTING
might as well get this done

>>2048728
>EXECUTE TASK: EVERYBODY WAS KUNG-FU FIGHTING

>>2048728
>EXECUTE TASK: EVERYBODY WAS KUNG-FU FIGHTING
Excited for jedi training until we can lift Nagato off the water with our mind.

>>2048728
>>EXECUTE TASK: EVERYBODY WAS KUNG-FU FIGHTING

File: Woho-ho-ho~.jpg (22 KB, 669x374)

22 KB JPG

TASK INITIATED

OBJECTIVE LIST:

>Recruit Ikazuchi
>Recruit Tenryuu
>Recruit Sendai
>Convince the MagiTek Department

SELECT OBJECTIVE TO ATTEMPT TO COMPLETE

>>2048728
Is getting help and aid for the kids still possible?

>>2048739
>Recruit Tenryuu
We know where she works at least

>>2048739
>Recruit Ikazuchi
It's fine to vote for this option more!

>>2048739
>>Recruit Tenryuu

>>2048739
>>Recruit Tenryuu

>>2048740
Ask around. Maybe you can, maybe you can't. You missed the opportunity from before, though.

>>2048742
Ikazuchi go back to your Admiral and stay there

>>2048746
Meanie!

>>2048739
>Recruit Tenryuu

>>2048739
>>Recruit Tenryuu

>>2048748
the Admiral cant depend on you if your here,i think he might be calling for Hibiki to help him

Get ready for infodump requests, OP. There’s SO much we’ll be wanting to ask senses if he gives us a time of day...
>what are spirits of conflict
>what other spirits are there
>what does my eye spy
>what is grudge
>how does abyssal hive mind work
>why are the maritime maidens nation-specific
>how do we help Iowa and Yamato
>what can we do to help the es sei

>>2048863
>senses, es sei
it’s “sensei”, Baka autocorrect

>>2048864
>Autocorrect-kun: sorry fffRdPDh-chan

> fffRdPDh-chan: B-baka, what's there to apologize for, it's not like I don't like your input anyway....

I'm sorry, I had to

>>2048739
>Convince the MagiTek Department

File: 497.jpg (15 KB, 177x278)

15 KB JPG

>>2048895

>>2048739
>>Recruit Tenryuu
alright

>>2048863
>why are the maritime maidens nation-specific
I think that's just the organizational structure of the Admiraltiy, and the fact that there are nation equivalents for real life in this world. Even if that means most of the European Allied and Axis shipgirls would be on the same team if they were summoned in Romeria.

>>2049530
There's more to it than that though. Why are Romerian more humanlike, and why did Vanzers only managed to get Iowa, which also has a quirk of her own not shared with the imperial girls?

>>2049601
if memory serves me right, the kanmusu are summoned because they fell thers something left to to do i belive
it could be the reason they are more human-like

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You tremble as you step out of the buggy, pondering the mysteries of the universe and how, more than anything else, that these minutes were the closest that you’d ever felt to dancing with oblivion. Behind you, you watch the quaking, jelly-like motion of your fellow sufferers stumble out of their seat from the back of the buggy, one of them kissing the pavement as though he had found the very face of salvation. You look up to see the beaming face of the Old Man, his moustache much thicker than before, tipping his hat as you offer a weak smile right back … before dropping onto your knees yourself, prompting a look of worry from him.

‘Watch your step, son. They may have fixed the roads, but a lot of the planes are kinda uneven.’

You grumble. Yes, that must have totally been the sole reason behind your sudden loss of balance and your brain’s ability to correct its sense of equilibrium. He puts on that stupid smile, waving at you while you struggle to get to your feet, calling out his goodbyes as the engine—that dreadful, dreadful churn of that unholy, monstrous construct that served as his instrument of ruin—revs and before you can turn to get another look, he was gone. You watch your other fellow passengers give you a thumbs up as they stumble their way to their posts, the present civilians watching you from across the street in confusion, as though you were a drunkard who had had a bottle too much.

Shaking your head, you make your way to the stairs, the beach waiting down below … and Tenryuu, right there where the waves met the sand while Shimakaze and another KanMusu—Kiyoshimo, if your memory served correctly—were seated with several open coolers, peering into them with confused gazes and trying to shake whatever contents were within out. From your side, none of them looked like they were filled with anything, at all.

Tenryuu stood with the waves touching her bare feet, clad in her bikini and her white shirt on top, staring out into sea with an annoyed expression on her face.

‘Tenryuu?’

She whirls around, her expression conveying surprise.

‘Oh, Commander,’ Tenryuu blinks, placing her hands on her hips and gesturing her chin towards you. ‘What’re you doing out her—wait, Houshou let you leave the barracks?’

You frown, suddenly feeling offended.

‘I need my own subordinate’s permission to leave?’

Tenryuu snorts in response, a smirk making its way onto her features.

‘It’s nice to know that you’re deluded enough to think that you’re not as cowed as we see, sir,’ she wears a defeated smile, shaking her head. ‘Especially for a human that lets what’s between the legs—never mind, that’s probably speakin’ about your whole spe—’

‘Tenryuu …’

‘Right, right—something that needs doing?’