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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: 1358463761705.png-(366 KB, 1100x800, 1315092-P1008BW.png)
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You are Squadron Leader Scarlet Harrison of the Royal Canadian Air Force and you're currently getting some much needed rest after a particularly odd day.

Slowly, you crack open your eyes, groggily wiping the gunk out of them with one hand. It's... night time, that's for sure. It's dark as all hell and the only light comes from the two windows flanking the front door. Oh hey. That means you're in the common room. Which also means you're on the couch. Once again, you find that you're astoundingly comfy. Comfvana, even.

You're leaning on something incredibly soft, which after a few prods you find to be a fellow witch. You can't really tell who it is in the dark, but from the texture of the fabric you can tell that they're wearing a different uniform. You also seem to have acquired a blanket at some point. Wait. No. After some fumbling you find that it's someone's uniform jacket. Again, you can't tell where from, but it's not Canadian.

In the distance you can hear some kind of commotion outside, probably what woke you in the first place. Frantic yelling, the sounds of machinery, engines revving, all of this comes from the vague direction of the airfield. That's... weird. As far as you're aware the base doesn't have any night fighter squadrons, only two night witches in your wing, Jane and Bobby.

So, either it's something with your wingmates, or something screwy is going on. Damn it. It's like... you don't even know what time it is. Either way, it's probably too early for this shit.

[ ] Go out and investigate.
[ ] Wake sleeping buddy.
>>
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[X ] Wake sleeping buddy.

ALWAYS HAVE A BATTLE BUDDY
>>
>>22645470
[x] pet fluffy ears
>>
>>22645470
[x] Go out and investigate.
>>
>>22645470
>[] Wake sleeping buddy.
>>
[x] Wake sleeping buddy.
[x] Go out and investigate.

"COME ON WENCH WE'RE SEEING WHAT ALL THE RUCKUS IS ABOUT"
>>
>>22645515
There are no fluffy ears to pet at the moment. Please try again later.
>>
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>>22645568

What a shame.
>>
>>22645568
turrble quest wud not read
>>
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Well, you sure as hell aren't going out in the cold alone. You give the witch beside you a few experimental prods.

Nothing.

You shove her a little harder this time. She groans and mumbles something, but doesn't awaken.

Great.

“Heeeeeey.” You whisper into her ear. “Wake uuuuppp.”

The witch shouts, almost sending you flying off the couch.

“WHAZUH? MARTIANS? WHOZARE?” She mumble-shouts. It's not often you hear someone managed to mumble and shout at the same time. “Scarlet?”

“Hi.” You answer. From the sound of the voice, it must be Sammy. A sleepy, possibly grumpy Sammy. “Have a nice sleep?”

She hunches over, taking in her surroundings. “Can't complain, but I'd really like to know why you woke me at,” she looks around, probably looking for a clock, “I don't even know what time it is.”

You tell her about what you heard at the airstrip. There's this nagging sense that it can't be anything good. Maybe one of your night witches was injured. Or something.

“And you want me to go with you?” Sammy grumps.

Pretty much. It's dark, it's cold and would it kill her to show a little more concern?

“God, fine.”

Thus, the two of you take off for the cold outdoors, leaving the uniform blanket on the couch. Outside it's, well, about as cold as you'd expect in middle of the night in late March. On your way out you spot a small figure leaning on the wall beside the door having a smoke. Diane, the French-Acadian (important distinction, as she'll point out) and one of few members of the original Demon Squadron. She's small, quiet, looks like she's fifteen and smokes like a train. In reality, she's twenty-two and yes, the “smoking will stunt your growth” joke has been done to death. She gives you a quiet nod as you walk by.

[ ] Stop and ask her if she knows anything.
[ ] Continue to airstrip.
>>
>>22645912
>[] Stop and ask her if she knows anything.
>>
>>22645912

[]Stop and ask her if she knows anything.

Hmm. She seems family.
>>
>>22645912
>[ ] Stop and ask her if she knows anything.
It... can't hurt, right?
>>
>>22645912
>[ ] Stop and ask her if she knows anything.
it can't be to bad, if she is just chilling there
>>
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[X ] Stop and ask her if she knows anything.
>>
>>22646024
smoking is bad emmmmkay
>>
>>22645912
[x] Stop and ask her if she knows anything.
>>
>>22645912
>[ ] Stop and ask her if she knows anything.
>>
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After a moments consideration, you decide to ask her if she knows anything. Can't hurt, right?

“Hey. Diane.” You greet her, tilting your head in the direction of the airfield. “You know what's going on?”

She quietly pulls the cigarette from between her lips and makes an exaggerated show of puffing out smoke. “Heard men yelling. Someone ambushed over the strait. Need to make an emergency landing here.” She shrugs, tapping out the ash. “The rest, I don't know.”

Oh. Oh shit. That wasn't on Jane and Bobby's route, was it? At least, you don't THINK they ever went over the water.

“Like I said,” she mumbles, placing the cigarette pack in her mouth, “that's all I heard.”

Just great. On the bright side, at least it isn't one of your girls.

“Can we get moving?” Sammy grumbles from a little ahead, holding herself tightly and shivering. “Freezing my lady bits off out here.”

Fine. Jeez. You continue your journey to the airstrip, Diane deciding to follow shortly behind. As you approach the airfield, you can see men rushing to and fro with equipment of all sorts. A few moments of awkwardly standing around and watching go by before one of the ground crew members stops to greet you. A stocky, grey-bearded man you know as Pat, your crew chief.

“Ma'ams.” He says with his rough, gravelly voice. “Something I can do for you?”

You ask him, in no simple terms, what the hell is going on.

“WELL!” He starts. “Y'see, we got a call about five, maybe ten minutes ago callin' fer us to prep the runway for an emergency landing. So we do, y'know, get everything out and ready. Then we get a call that it's for a Beaufighter. One o' them big twin engine suckers. So right about now we're just sort of panicking a'cause the runway isn't all that long and we're not really all too sure if she'll take it or not.”

Well that answers the question of what's going on, at least. But it opens up quite a lot more...

Ask something else? Or just sit tight?
>>
>>22646434
anything we can do?
>>
>>22646434
Ask if there's anything we can do to help. A shield in the right place might help.
>>
>>22646434
[x] CATCH THE BEAUFIGHTER
>>
>>22646531
or maybe guide them in. OR pull a kathy and hit the engine with a hammer.
>>
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>>22646434
>Red Green
Mah nigga
>>
>>22646434

prep a healwitch?
>>
We've got strong shields, right? Maybe prop up some sort of incline at the end of the runway? Maybe get someone in strikers to pull the crew from the fighter?
>>
>>22646682

or just grab popcorn and a coke and enjoy the show
>>
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>>22646555
One does not simply catch the gundam
>>
>>22646773
That's not a Catalina - That's got 4 engines, Cats have two.
>>
>>22646897
Oh wait, no, my perspective derped. Yeah, that's a Cat. Beautiful thing.
>>
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You figure it best to cut to the chase and ask if there's anything you can do to help.

“Wheeeeelp,” Pat plants his hands on his hips and leans back, thinking, “first things first, I guess. Assuming we get 'er in alright, we're gonna need someone to fix those poor boys up. Any of you good with medical magic?”

You look back at the other two witches. You certainly can't. You've always been terrible at it. Sammy shrugs and shakes her head. Diane... actually raises her hand.

“I can do this.” She mumbles from the other side of her cigarette.

Wait. Hold on. Smokey is heally witch? Since when? How did you not know this? You flew with her for like six months last year!

“I prefer not to be noticed.” She mumbles, the faint hint of a smirk behind the glowing smoke.

Huh.

“Whelp.” Pat bobs his head a few times. “That's all I can really think of, unless...”

He has that look in his eye. It's the same look he gets when his crew is designing a new toy for Riley. Oh no. Oh dear god no.

“Scarlet, come with me!”

Halp.
>>
>>22646973
No halp. Just go.
>>
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>>22646973
>Red Green builds Riley's guns
>>
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A couple minutes later, you've found yourself hustled into your strikers and waiting in the hangar. Pat shuffles up beside you and leans over.

“Alright, so I'm gonna need you to do,” he points out into the cold, “is taxi out to about the middle of the strip. Sounds like he's gonna be coming in from the north. Now as soon as you see the plane's wheels hit the ground, you put out one of them big shields to slow him down. It'll need to be at a nice steep angle. Don't want him hitting a brick wall, I know how tough those things are.”

Does he mean brick walls or shields?

“Both. M' wife's a witch and knows a thing or two.” He nods, satisfied with his instructions. “Now go on out there. AND REMEMBER, STEEP ANGLE.”

The striker engine whirs to life, the little glowing propeller blades spinning, you fluffy black ears and tail appearing. You take a moment to pet them for good luck. The mountings on the stand disengage and you slowly make your way to the middle of the strip. The men yelling and shouting all stop and stare off into the distance. You see what appears to be star growing. And growing.

Show time.

ROLL 1D20. Average of the first three rolls is your score. And yes, higher is better.
>>
Rolled 10

>>22647054

hope i did it right
>>
>>22647100

guess not
>>
Rolled 10

>>22647054
>>
Rolled 14

>>22647054
This can't possibly end poorly
>>
10, 10 and 14. Final score 11.

So astoundingly mediocre.
>>
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>>22647144
>>22647139
>>22647100
Oh ye fools... YOU HAVE DONE... perfectly average really.

I wonder if I still have my knack for Nat 1s or not...
>>
Rolled 2

>>22647186
... herp a derp.
>>
>>22647182
somebody gunna die?
>>
>>22647263
Of course. WE MUST PUNISH MEDIOCRITY.
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>>22647284
you're mad. MAD I SAY.
>>
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>>22647284
archiv pls


pls
>>
Rolled 11

>>22647182
Clearly, touching fluffy ears and tail did not provide enough luck.
>>
>>22647284
What? 11 isn't mediocre. It's wholly average.
>>
>>22647418
That's what mediocre means!
>>
>>22647457

so technically it aint bad, it just aint superduper
>>
>>22647457
No, mediocre is below average.
>>
>>22647525

wiki says its avg/medium
>>
>>22647525
Udz confirmed for not knowing what words mean.
>>
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You brace yourself and grit your teeth. Sammy cheers you on from the sidelines. Pat keeps shouting about STEEP ANGLES. Diane just stares.

The Beaufighter draws closer, bearing down on you. One engine is clearly on fire, half of the other wing is gone. Oh no. Oh no no no. Why are you doing this? There's not a chance in hell this will work. You've got a ten ton burning hulk of metal careening at you and you're just gonna stand in its way.

It's like playing hockey on the highway, except the cars are on fire and the objective is to get by them.

You see the first set of wheels hit ground and you deploy the shield at a STEEP ANGLE, trying to match the nose of the plane. You're still a little weak from earlier in the day, but it's nothing you can't handle. The Beaufighter soars down the run way, reaching you in only seconds.

There's a definite crunch as metal impacts magic, and you begin moving backwards. Off to the side you can see your band of merry men jogging to keep up. Your stomach lurches at the highspeed backward movement, and you almost flip over a few times.

You're not entirely sure when you stopped screaming. It must have been a while after the plane stopped, because when you opened your eyes the ground crew was already rushing over. The shield dissolves and you back up out of the way.

Everyone seems to pause and take a few steps back as the canopy slides open. The pilot, to his credit, actually manages to heave himself out. He takes a few wobbly steps and looks at you.

“Thanks.” He grunts, giving you a weak thumbs up.

Then he collapses.
>>
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Diane ditches her cigarette and sprints over to him, quickly flipping him over and taking a pulse. On the other end of the plane you spot a few men carrying away the plane's radar operator on their shoulders. Sammy and Pat pick their way through the growing crowd over to you through the growing crowd.

“Okay, that,” Sammy smiles and shakes her head, “that was impressive. Crazy. But impressive.”

“Told ya it'd work!” Pat shouts, giving you a slap on the back.

So... now that that that's over with...

[ ] Head to the hangar and dismount strikers.
[ ] Dismount on the strip and check on the pilot.
>>
>>22647609
>>22647668
http://lmgtfy.com/?q=mediocre
First result:
"of moderate or low quality, value, ability, or performance"
Sounds like below average to me.
>>
>>22647748
>[ ] Head to the hangar and dismount strikers.

dont want the custom paintjob to get busted
>>
>>22647748
>[ ] Head to the hangar and dismount strikers.
Gotta take care of these things.

Anyway, got things to do, I don't need you assholes taking up my time.
>>
>>22647766

Adjective

mediocre (comparative more mediocre, superlative most mediocre)
Ordinary: not extraordinary; not special, exceptional, or great; of medium quality;
I'm pretty good at tennis but only mediocre at racquetball.
>>
>>22647748
go ahead and check him. he might be cute~
>>
>>22647823
shitfuck
>>
>>22647748
[x] Head to the hangar and dismount strikers.
WE DUN GOOD
NOW TIME FOR MORE SLEEPINGS
>>
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[X ] Head to the hangar and dismount strikers.
>>
[x] Dismount on the strip and check on the pilot.
>>
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That was... surprisingly exhausting. Maybe it's time to get back to bed. You can check on Flaming Wreck McGee in the morning. Besides, Sammy seems to be sneaking glances in his direction.

You let out a long yawn and tell Sammy to look out for the poor guy. Time to go dismount.

“O-okay, Red.” She nods, seeming a little more excited than she was a second ago. “Take care. Night.”

The hangar appears to be empty since all the men are- Wait. No it's not. There's a witch stepping out of her strikers in the stand next to yours. You can't quite make out who it is from the entrance. Kate, maybe? You call out to her.

“Wrong~” The witch answers, voice tinkling like wind chimes.

...Wendy?

“Oh goodness no, darling!” She turns to you, long hair flowing behind her. “Come now, you don't even recognize me? Has it been that long?”

It's dark as shi-

“Language, dearie.” She giggles. “Words like that are unbecoming of a lady.”

It can't be. No. No no no. NO. You fumble for a light switch, managing to find the one near the door. With a thump, the room illuminates itself. There's a quiet moment as your eyes adjust and the other witch slowly walks up to you, hips swaying with a womanly grace.

You blink. It really IS her. National hero, your old headmistress, mother of eight.

Minnie Bishop.

“Hello, Scarlet.” She smiles and gives you a wink. “Long time no see.”

A thousand questions race through your mind. What is she doing here? Who was that pilot? Do they know each other? Why is she not at the academy? What the hell just happened out there?

All that manages to come out of your mouth is a simple “What?”

She blinks a few times. “It's a bit... complicated. Where would you like me to start?”

Where would you like her to start?
>>
>>22647748
[x ] Head to the hangar and dismount strikers.
We don't want to scratch up our strikers.
>>
>>22648178
Beginnings are good.
>>
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>>22648178
Tomorrow.
>>
>>22648178
The beginning?
>>
>>22648178
Let's start with "what are you doing here".
>>
>>22648178
"Who. How. Why. Why why whyyyy."
>>
>>22648178
Who is she here for.
>>
Can someone please explain why we are not being sponsored by mother fucking Kraft yet?
Anyone? Anyone at all?

>Also, Hi~ Archivalfag! How are you today!
>>
>>22648443
Because they hatin' and I've managed to not mention Kraft Dinner this thread.

Shit. Nevermind.

>Hi! I'm doing okay. How are you, anon?
>>
>>22648461
invite her for KD while she taells her tale.
Lets get cheesy
>>
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>>22648461
Mission objectives reaffirmed!

>Quite well. A little annoyed that my pan decided it hated my stove top and burnt out my favorite burner for cooking stuff. I lost my favorite pan and burner for cooking the Kraft dinner in the same instant.

>So actually quite pissed.
>gif related. Its me right now.
>>
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>>22648546
disgusting
>>
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The... beginning? That's usually the best place, right?

“Let's see,” Minnie puts her finger to her chin and ponders, “I suppose the question then becomes when exactly the beginning is.”

Oh great, this is going to be one of THOSE stories. You taxi over to the stand and dismount, sitting yourself on the edge afterwards. Minnie does the same, sitting on the edge of the stand currently occupied by her striker.

“To begin with, I believe we should get the identity of our mystery man out of the way.” She flashes you a little grin before continuing. “A one Flight Lieutenant Richard Mabbs. I believe you know of him, correct?”

Know of him? Hell, the man was like an older brother to you up until a few weeks ago! His night fighter squadron supplemented the original Demon Squadron all throughout last year. It wasn't until a couple weeks before the invasion that the two squadrons were separated. Last you heard, his boys were up north in Prince Rupert.

Which should either be destroyed or under siege...

“Sadly.” Minnie nods. “His squadron was wiped out save himself and his radar man. The long and short of it is, I needed to borrow him for a while to do some work. I can't really say much else until I speak to little Rosie. Or, I suppose she's not so little any more, is she?”

Not in the places that matter, at least.

“Oh my~” She giggles to herself. “I suppose she looks like one of my children then.”

Bigger.

“Like me?”

Little smaller. Hold on, Minnie never explained why Rick's plane came in a burning wreck. That's a little more important than the status of Rose's chest.
>>
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“Oh, that!” She shouts, suddenly remembering. “Right, right. So we decided we'd come down and see how you girls were doing. Had to take the long way, unfortunately. The vile little beasts still have the coast and not even I can fly through that. They spotted us heading over from Vancouver and took the chance. The results speak for themselves.”

At least he seemed to be alive. You take a long sigh and slowly shake your head. This day... As you're about to get off the stand, you spot Diane wander in. And promptly freeze on the spot. Minnie's head slowly turns to her.

“Diane Dupuis,” Minnie growls, “are you SMOKING?”

The short-haired little French witch blanches and quickly stubs out her cigarette on a small magic shield.

“N-No, ma'am!”

So now the important matter is: How is Rick?

“He'll live.” Diane shrugs. Does she ever emote with something other than shrugs and smirks? “Sammy took him into the house. Figure we'll leave him and the other guy in their own rooms.”

Oh. Right. She doesn't know Nathan, the radar operator. Truth be told, you don't really know him that well either. He only joined the squadron after you got to Vancouver Island.

“I suppose that takes care of that then.” Minnie rolls her head from side to side, looking somewhat bored. “I do hope you have a spare room for little old me.”

Let's see... Thirteen witches. Sixteen rooms. Minus two (temporarily?) for the pilots. Just one left, it seems.

“Excellent!” Minnie cries out, clapping her hands together. “Let's just hope they don't see anything they shouldn't, hm?” She gives a little wink at that and you feel your face get a bit warmer. You've never actually had other men living in the same building before...

It seems that business is all settled. Unless you have any more concerns.

[ ] Time for bed.
[ ] Stay up a bit more and... (write-in)
>>
>>22648794
Sleep, a tired witch is a dead witch.
>>
>>22648794
We should spend a little more time catching up with our instructor. Perhaps she will be at liberty to share some details about what is coming down the pipe.
>>
[x] Time for bed.

Big Milfy Bishop is BIG.
>>
>>22648794
"I trust you'll tell me more when you can? Then I'm gonna find my bed."
>>
>>22648794
>[ ] Time for bed.
It looks like the guys are taken care of. we should get some sleep while we can.
>>
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Seems like it's time for bed. A sleepy witch is a dead witch. Or at least a grumpy witch in the morning.

You manage to work your way back to the building, followed closely by Minnie and Diane, the former scolding the latter for taking part in the unlady-like habit of smoking. The wrecked plane is still being towed off the runway when you leave the hangar. It looks to be beaten up pretty damn badly.

As you pull open the door for the two others, you stop Minnie. She's going to explain more tomorrow, right?

“Of course, darling. Don't worry.” She smiles and ruffles your hair, bringing back memories of when you got in trouble and were sent to her office. “All in due time, dear.”

Good... good....

Things haven't been turning out so great and there always seems to be something else classified or top secret. You can vaguely remember a time when the war was simpler. Go here, shoot this. No mysteries, just doing what you're told. Now... now you wonder why everyone seemed to know about the invasion ahead of time, why there are Russians all of a sudden, and now why a national hero and Great War veteran is on your base when she should be looking after students.

Somewhere during your thoughts you find yourself undressing and getting ready for bed. There's just so much to think about these days. You slide under the covers and get all snug and cozy. Going to bed has always been one of your favourite times of the day. You get to be alone and just... think. Sometimes think about days past, others thinking of what the future holds.

What will you think about tonight?

[ ] The past. The 407th and your time fighting in the US.
[ ] The present. The witches you're responsible for. Your friends and colleagues.
[ ] The future. Someday this will all be over... right?
>>
>>22649218
>[ ] The past. The 407th and your time fighting in the US.
>>
[x] The past. The 407th and your time fighting in the US.
>>
>>22649218
[x] The past. The 407th and your time fighting in the US.
>>
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[X ] The present. The witches you're responsible for. Your friends and colleagues.
>>
>>22649301
seconding.
>>
>>22649218
>[x] The present. The witches you're responsible for. Your friends and colleagues.
>>
>>22649218
>[x] The present. The witches you're responsible for. Your friends and colleagues.

Sammy, the Russians, feeding Kraft to Johanna. She rather liked that, no?
>>
>>22649218
>[ ] The present. The witches you're responsible for. Your friends and colleagues.
>>
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Better to focus on the now, you suppose.

About a month ago you, Rose and Jane had just transferred to RCAF Station Comox, your first base on Vancouver Island. Then Woody and Riley joined on the same day. Then Bobby, your resident night witch. Ayaka and Johanna came after that, same day Rick and his night fighter squadron left.

You had about two weeks of peace once every joined up. Everything was simple. Played board games, listened to the radio. A nice cushy post. Looking back, you don't know how you managed to convince yourself that nothing was wrong.

The invasion started a week ago. From what you've heard, the big key to their success has been the new mini-walkers. Small, flexible legs, about the size of a car. They've got one big maser on the front and if you fly too low they can snatch you right out of the sky. They did to Woody when the wing was evacuating Comox, your original base on the island. Poor thing almost lost her leg.

You weren't there for that, sadly. You and Ayaka were ambushed the day before on a recon mission. The two of you crashed, you broke your leg and had to spend two days hiking back until you found some lumberjack kid to drive you.

The day you got back is when Sammy's group arrived. The 'Hellkittens', they called themselves. Veterans of Guadalcanal who finished up just in time to be sent over here. Talk about shitty luck. Samantha Mackintosh, Beatrice “Buzz” Wagner and Reggie Barber. Now they're a part of Sammy's squadron, while you're in command of most of the original group.
>>
Then... shit went even further downhill. The three other members of your old squadron, the 407th, returned. Kate Dalton, Diane Dupuis and your old CO Wendy Barker. The three of them had been shot down at Dieppe after the squadron split up. Kate left her leg on the beach, Diane was stuck in Martian-occupied France for a week and Wendy was in a coma. Wendy got out of it last week and Diane turned up in Dover a few before that. You'd... rather not think about your reunion with Wendy. Fortunately for you, she's not in combat condition anymore and is instead serving as the aid to General Potts, the ranking officer on the island.

Now... there's these Russians. You should probably learn more about them. You've met four so far, apparently there's another two. They have those bright red tank strikers, and that giant one you've never seen before. You heard Vasilika refer to it as an “IS”, standing for “Iosef Stalin”. She wouldn't tell you much else, other than it has a 122mm gun.

And then there's the invasion going on. You struggle to recap what you've heard from Rose in your head. Two groups, one heading over the Rockies, the other hitting you. The Mexico and Missouri pockets breaking out. North America is in a bit of a clusterfuck right now.

You're hard pressed to find anything good about your situation. At least you're not dead.

Somewhere, lost in your thoughts, you find yourself drifting to sleep. It's been a weird day.
>>
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>Was supposed to post this with the last bit but forgot. Whaps. Too lazy to repost the update. Here's a map of the current squid problem in North America.
>>
>>22649830
How long has New York been Martian free?
>>
>>22649830
>occupying the lower half of Iowa.
AW HELL NAW
>>
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Much earlier than you'd like, you hear the dreaded sound of your alarm clock blaring.

Great. It must have been pretty damn early when Rick came in.

Once again you find yourself altogether too comfy. But... you have things you'd like to do today.

Get up and:
[ ] Go see if Rick is up.
[ ] Go find Minnie.
[ ] Go find someone else.

Alternatively:
[ ] Stay in bed.
>>
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>>22649830
>missouri and a bunch of states nobody cares about

oh gee whizz
>>
>>22649830
remove squid from premises.
>>
[x] Go find Minnie.
>>
>>22649848
It was never occupied. They never reached the east coast. They did, however, occupy most of the space between the Appalachians and California.
>>
>>22649901
>[ ] Go see if Rick is up.
Lets go see how the old boy is doing.
>>
>>22649901
[x] go bother the Russians
>>
>>22649901

>Falling asleep in bra

WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU FOOL
>>
>>22649937
actually. Lets do this. make sure they are drinking too much without us.
>>
>>22650028
*aren't
>>
>>22649957
It's a ~*~maaaaaagic~*~ bra.
>>
>>22649901
Les' go see if Rick's up

Hey, is there a Tims on base?
While you wait for Archival to update, have some Canadian Culture:
Handyman's Corner - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92R5Gy6JYbc
Beer Case Outhouse - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npGNWwC_bL4
>>
>>22650058
That's the best kind~
>>
>>22650099
Not until the 60s there isn't.
>>
>>22650058
... Bra striker?
>>
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>>22650113
Archival pls
>>
*Thumbs up at Deculture art*
>>
>>22650117
maybe it *enhances* our magic to attract mates?
>>
>>22650195
The Bra model striker, for when you need that magical edge.
>>
>>22649923
Damn
>>
>>22649957
Its a blue board, you git. Deculture can only be so lewd.
>>
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You're a bit torn. On one hand you want to go see how Rick is doing. On the other, you kind of want to go bug the Russians. Because diplomacy. Hell, you might as well do both today. Your magic is go caput for now. A battle and becoming the brakes on a ten ton plane in the same will do that.

First up, check on Rick. He's PROBABLY in either room fourteen, fifteen or sixteen. Unless some idiot decided they wanted to leave a room vacant.

You throw your uniform on in hurry. It would be improper to visit Rick in nothing but your bra and tactical undergarments (not panties/not embarrassing). The hall is mostly empty this morning, save Sammy, who is for some reason leaning against the wall outside of room fourteen. What's she up to?

“Keeping watch.” She mumbles. “Two men in a base full of women and girls. Need to make sure nobody harasses him while he's recovering.”

Has... has she been here all night?

Sammy nods. “Fell asleep while I was sitting with him. Then I figured it best if I wait outside.”

No shit. Don't want to wake up with some creeper hovering over you.

“I wasn- Guh.” Sammy rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Hah. Oh man. “I take it you want to see him?”

Ayup. You ask her if he's awake.

Sammy shrugs. “Been out here for the past couple hours.”

Oh well. Wouldn't hurt to check. Sammy gives a shallow nod and opens the door for you, following behind as you step in.

Rick's still asleep from the looks of it. He looks to be healed up nicely, only a few bandages here and there. You really didn't believe Diane when she said she could. Sammy has this adorable expression on her face, like I child who wants to pet a dog but doesn't know if she's allowed. Interesting...

But right now, you just want to see how he's doing.

[ ] Wake him gently.
[ ] Let him sleep.
[ ] Have a bit of fun.

(No, not that kind of fun. Stop being lewd.)
>>
>>22650553
>[ ] Have a bit of fun.
We got a pin?
>>
>>22650553
[x] Let him sleep.
PILOT IS BORING FIND EXCITING RUSSIANS
>>
>>22650553
Let Sammy wake Rick up.
>>
[x] Let him sleep.

I feel this is right, though I'm tempted to write in something with hijinks (not giving you guys ideas)
>>
>>22650596
FIND RUSSIANS, ACQUIRE VODKA! Then hijinks. DRUNKEN HIJINKS.
>>
>>22650553
[x] Let him sleep.

Let's visit the Russians. Maybe they've OD'd on Kraft Dinners?
>>
>>22650553
>[x]Have a bit of fun.
Whisper suggestions into Sammy's ear.
If that doesn't work, push her onto him.
>>
>>22650798
naked drunk snow angels, go
>>
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Damn. You were hoping you'd get to talk to him, but it's probably better to let the poor guy sleep.

You glance over at Sammy. She's still giving him that weird look. Maybe... she's interested?

Sammy's eyes shoot open as she turns to you, face going beet red. “Pftwha? No! What? No. Well, I mean, he's kinda cute, sure. Even if I did, I'm twenty-six! What guy wants me when there's girls like you running around?”

Well, he's twenty-six too, you thi- Hey wait, what? G-girls like you?

“Well yeah, I mean, look at you and the wing commander.” She sighs. “Then there's Buzz and Kate and Ayaka... Hell, I'm the oldest one here.”

You shrug. Last you heard he didn't like girls as young as you.

“Well, he should!” She huffs. You can't tell if she's angry or just frustrated. “I should probably get something to eat. I'll be back later.”

Some sleep would probably do her some good, too. She seems to get grumpy.

“Fine, fine.” She sighs, defeated.

As she shuts the door behind her, you hear a cough from behind you.

“Mornin', kiddo.” Rick coughs.

Oh hey! He's awake!

“Sure am. That other girl was a bit loud.” He grins weakly. “If you're still here I'm guessing I'm not dead. How you been?”

Pretty shitty. You ask him how he's been.

“About the same.” He replies. “Think I could do with a bit more shut eye.”

Oh. Heh. You apologize and open the door to leave when he calls out to you.

“Hey, who was that girl?” He asks.

You answer him, smiling a bit to yourself.

“Mackintosh, eh?” He nods slightly. “I'll remember to thank her.”

Wait... he was passed out when she carried him. So... what for?

“She called me cute.” He laughs. Dis gai, srsly. With a smile on his face, he relaxes and closes his eyes.

Now that your main concern is dealt with, TIME TO BUG THE RUSSIANS. AGAIN.

[ ] ASSEMBLE PARTY (CHOOSE UP TO TWO PARTY MEMBERS)
[ ] FLY SOLO
>>
Any two of the Baka Trio!
>>
>>22651054
>[ ] ASSEMBLE PARTY (CHOOSE UP TO TWO PARTY MEMBERS)
Lets take the little american and bobby. The young'ins need to meet our allies.
>>
Just a side thing, but why are some people waiting until fifteen or twenty minutes after I've updated to vote? By that point I've already been working on the next update for a few minutes.
>>
>>22651054
>[ ] ASSEMBLE PARTY
Take Riley and Bobby.
>>
>>22651054
[x] ASSEMBLE PARTY
RILEY and WOODY
>>22651179
Well I was playing World of Tanks for a bit there. Stopped now because WHY IS EVERYONE SO BAD AT THIS GAME OH MY FUCKING GOD.
Also I just had to go digging in the archive for names. Have you got like a Google doc I could bookmark or something?
>>
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I'm assuming the votes for Bobby mean Woody.

Woody is one of the three little 'uns and we've talked to her a few times in Crimson. Bobby is the night witch and is thus asleep at the moment. I think she's only even been mentioned once or twice.

>>22651230

I'll probably do a pastebin or something for next thread. There are quite a number of witches, I know.
>>
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You think for a second. Going alone would be weird. Rose is probably working or meeting with Minnie. Everyone else is probably either asleep or busy with something. That leaves...

Riley and Woody. Yes. That is the BEST idea.

Knowing the two of them, they're probably in the kitchen getting breakfast. You take off in that direction, passing through the barren halls and common room. As you pull up to the kitchen, you can already hear the sound of pan moving on stove. Smells like... eggs again. Thank god they're using up all that powdered crap.

“Hey kids,” you greet them as you step in, “you two were wondering about the Russians, right?”

“Yeah!” Riley shouts from the table, mouth full of scrambled eggs.

“'Hey kids'?” Woody mumbles, making another pan of eggs.

You grab a fork from the drawer and take a seat, helping yourself to some of Riley's eggs. Between forkfuls, you ask them if they'd like to go meet their new comrades.

“I... I guess.” Woody replies. “Any reason?”

You're bored. Do you need another reason?

“Well, no, but-”

“Let's do it!” Riley squeals in excitement.

Awesome. You manage to convince Woody to eat her eggs double-time - with Riley and yourself helping out, of course. After a few minutes of rabid egg-eating, the three of you are ready to go.
>>
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The walk to the Russians' quarters proves to be rather dull. Riley asks several questions about them, most of which you don't have an answer for, even more that are utterly nonsensical.

“So, do they have, like, commie lasers and stuff?”

“No.”

Stuff like that.

A few minutes later, you find yourself standing on the doorstep to the house serving as the quarters for the Angels. You give it a few knocks and wait. Several moments go by. The silence starts to get a little awkward before you hear some one yell something in Russian from the other side, a voice you haven't heard before. As soon as she does so, the door opens, revealing a rather short young girl with long, straight black hair staring at her feet. One of the ones you didn't meet.

She mumbles something that vaguely sounds like “Hello.”

“H-heya, kiddo.” You stutter awkwardly. “We're from the other end of the base. Just wondering if your boss is around.”

She silently shakes her head, still staring at her feet.

Ah. You introduce yourself and ask if you could come in anyways, also asking her name while you're at it.

She mumbles something in reply.

You blink a few times. “Sorry, didn't get that.”

“E-Ekaterina.” She stutters, looking up at you and revealing her crimson eyes. “J-junior Lieutenant E-Ekaterina Valnikov.”
>>
>>22651699
>powdered eggs.
Those poor, poor girls...
>>
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We're starting to slow down and I'm not feeling so good, so that's a wrap for tonight. We'll be back to our usual timeslot of MONDAY next week, so that's Monday the 21st.

Also, CAN YOU GUESS WHO MADE THE TANK WITCHES? (Brotip: wasn't me)

I don't think we have any writefaggotry for tonight, so if anyone wants to ask anything about anything I'll be sticking around.
>>
>>22651762
It was that faggot who keeps tweeting 'thread in a hour' and then changing his mind, wasn't it
Yeah
I mad
>>
>>22651762
Sorry friendo, no adventuring tank destroyers tonight. MONDAY! MONDAY IS THE DAY!.



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