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/tg/ - Traditional Games


PREVIOUSLY: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?searchall=Tank+Witches+of+Orussia

Night has fallen completely. This means that visibility was now absolutely zip. At least the moonlight plus the snow was getting some ambient light for you, but only some. You could barely see down the hill towards the enemy, if there was even an enemy down there. You clamped down a rusted out M1 Helmet onto your head and peered through binoculars. Let’s see, you packed rations, spare ammunition, a SCR-536 Handie Talkie, spare trousers, spare uniform, smoke grenades, frag grenades, helmet, goggles, entrenching tool, sleeping bag, everything an infantryman needs to survive in combat!

Except a flare gun.

Or a flashlight.

You lightly whack your head against the rotting wood of the trench wall. Why must such insignificant items be so important? You pray that someone here has natural night vision. Still, night shift and everything. As much as you hate the idea of it, it only seemed fair that the Sergeant take the first watch of the night and let the men rest. That’s how they do it on the film reels! Sergeants are the fathers to their men, stern but loving, always first to fight and least to retreat! You smiled at the thought, that could be you in one of those reels!

Think about it, you as a movie star! Ha! Ridiculous! And yet somehow attainable! Maybe once the war ends you can go into the Hollywoodland business. Make some films, tell stories through the visual medium and… and…

Is someone lighting a fire in your trench!? In the middle of the night!? You storm over to the source of it, then find Rascal and Greta chomping down on what appears to be cooked geese.

Where did they even find a goose this far out!?

Greta looks up at you. “Oh, hi there.” She holds out her cut of meat. Your stomach immediately howls at the sight of it. No, shut up, stomach! “Want some?”

[1/2]
>>
>>42627192
[2/2]

“Put that fire out!” you hiss. You point to Rascal, threateningly. Fearing for her tush, she quickly throws some dirt and snow onto the fire, dousing it. “You might’ve given the Neuroi our position!”

Greta shrugs as the light dies down and all goes dark once again. “They already know we’re here. Is there a point?”

“Yes there’s a point! Campfires give away positions! Neuroi can see fires as well as we do in the middle of the night! We’re lucky they didn’t zone in lots and lots of artillery on top of us right now!”

Greta waves her cut of meat, then takes a bite out of it. “But they didn’t.”

“That’s not the point! You can’t just…” Your stomach growls. Oh fuck you, stomach. Maybe you’ll be really agreeable to the Neuroi handing you some nice food? What then? Your stomach growls louder. You’re kidding. “… look. Don’t light fires, okay?”

After a minute of pause, Greta nods. “Okay, Sergeant.” She salutes. “Jawohl.” Rascal nods, curling up a bit in fear of punishment.

“I’ll deal with you later, Rascal,” you say. “I want to know where you got this goose.” She nods, scratching at her hair.

You start storming back to your post. Ugh, campfires. Ugh, meat.

> … It wouldn’t hurt to get someone to relieve you about now. You’ve been up for like two hours.
> Forget it. You have ration packs! And Meatloaf Surpise! … for what it’s worth.
> Block out the stomach. You have no time to eat now. Any moment wasted on meals is another moment the Neuroi get closer to breaching your position like Great War stosstruppen.
> Other
>>
>>42627204
> … It wouldn’t hurt to get someone to relieve you about now. You’ve been up for like two hours.
Do not do other shit while on guard.
>>
>>42627204
> Forget it. You have ration packs! And Meatloaf Surpise! … for what it’s worth.
The surprise is diarrhea.
>>
>>42627204
> … It wouldn’t hurt to get someone to relieve you about now. You’ve been up for like two hours.
>>
>>42627204
>… It wouldn’t hurt to get someone to relieve you about now. You’ve been up for like two hours.
I'm starting to feel bad for Rascal and her traumatized tush.
>>
>>42627515
Kid is harsh but fair, anon!
>>
>>42627204
>Forget it. You have ration packs! And Meatloaf Surpise! … for what it’s worth.
>>
> … It wouldn’t hurt to get someone to relieve you about now. You’ve been up for like two hours.

As much as it kills you, it wouldn’t be that unfair to have someone relieve you just now. Stomach, you win this round. That, or that’s the Meatloaf Surprise you ate earlier today. You decide to pick on Thorn, considering she probably has experience with night operations more than you do.

So you find her dozing off in her trench, with Aurelia lying in her lap, napping away. You tap Thorn’s head, shaking her away. She groggily opens her eyes, rubbing face and groaning. “Thorn, I need you to relieve me.”

“Already…?” She grumbles a bit, smacking her lips and checking her watch. “It’s only been two hours.”

“I know, I know, can you?” She nods, very lightly lifting Aurelia off of her lap and resting her down on the trench. She’s not going to like that her hair’s being soiled by the snow and the mud but that’s not your problem. That’s for whoever happened to be sleeping next to her to deal with. You and Thorn take a walk back to your trench, the forwardmost one.

“So, spot anything?” she asks.

“A couple of small drones,” you say. “But they’re keeping away for now. I think they’re just sizing up the defense.”

She nods. “Alright. Shooting them won’t make much of a difference anyway.” She jumps down into your trench, and right into her resting Strikers. They whir quietly, revving to life. “So… first day in combat everything you hoped for?”

You shrug, standing next to her as the two of you watch out for any incoming Neuroi. “Well… I expected more fighting and less standing around waiting for something to happen.”

“It’ll come,” she says. “If people had to fight three hundred sixty five days a year, they’d go mad.” She pats your head, a little condescendingly. “Don’t worry, Kid. The fecking Neuroi have no brains when it comes to witches. The minute they see us, any logic they got goes out the window and they just go bonkers.”

“Really?”

[1/2]
>>
>>42628273
[2/2]

“… well, not really,” she says. “At least, I’ve noticed we witches have better luck with Roy than the regulars.” Fair enough. “But hey, when you’re in combat. Try and make the most of it.” She pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry, your big sis will take care of the night shift!”

You pout a bit. “I’m your Sergeant. I’m the big sis!”

She chortles. “Ha! Okay. ‘Big Si…’” She wheezes, quietly laughing. “I’m sorry, I can’t say it without laughing.”

> “I’m the Big Sis dang it! The chevrons on my shoulder prove it!”
> “Stop laughing! I am the Big Sis!”
> Pout furiously. You’re the Big Sister here!
> Other
>>
>>42628301
> Pout furiously. You’re the Big Sister here!
That's how big sisters establish dominance.
>>
>>42628301
>Aggrieved Sigh
>Walk away mumbling ill intentioned actions.
>>
>>42628301
> “I’m the Big Sis dang it! The chevrons on my shoulder prove it!”
>>
>>42628301
> “Stop laughing! I am the Big Sis!”
Do not bully the Kid Thorn, just ask Rascal if you need an explanation as to why.
>>
>>42628301
>“I’m the Big Sis dang it! The chevrons on my shoulder prove it!”
>>
>>42628464
I'm not sure Kid would have as much luck trying to swing Thorn over her lap.
>>
>>42628534
Kid is ridiculously strong, Thorn would need to out run her.
>>
>>42628592
Now I kinda want to see it...
>>
>>42628664
It'd end fast, all kid would need to do is pitch something at her hard to knock her down, that'd be all she wrote.
>>
> “I’m the Big Sis dang it! The chevrons on my shoulder prove it!”

You bring your arm around, pointing to your chevrons. “See these chevrons? Those mean I’m the Big Sis, Thorn! Me!” You point to yourself, pouting furiously at her. “You’re just a Corporal, if anything you’re the little sister. I’m the one who should be telling you it’ll okay and bossing you around!”

Thorn scoffs. “Please, I have three little sisters at home. What makes you think you that?” Dang it! She even has experience being the big sister! You stomp your foot, storming away. “Aw, come on! I was just playing, Kid!”

“Buzz off!” you yell. “I’ll show you, big sister!” Hmph. You crawl out of the trench and march on over to one of the rear slit trenches. Who does she think she is?! Just because she’s the biggest sister of three doesn’t make her the crowning achievement in higher siblinghood! You look down at Greta and Rascal, now playing rock-paper-scissors in their trench to pass the time. “Greta! I’m the big sister here!” you shout.

Greta looks up, surprised. But then she starts laughing. “Ha! That’s what my little sister says!” DAMN IT.

Rascal looks up at you. “What’s got you hot and bothered?”

You step down. “Thorn thinks that just because she’s the older sister in her family means she can treat me like a little sister!” You cross your arms. “It’s downright deplorable, insubordinate even! I mean, I can trust you guys not to look at me like that, right?”



“… right?” you ask. You can’t really see how they look in the darkness, but the silence says a whole lot.

Greta raises her hand. “Is it okay if I treat you like a little sister?” You tilt your head. What the hell’s wrong’s with her? “I’m sorry, you’re just so lovably adorable and cute it’s hard NOT to see you like a little sister.” She holds out her arms. “Come on, let your big sis Greta hug you and squeeze you like a bear!”

> “… fine.”
> “No! I have enlisted authority damn it!”
> Other
>>
>>42629299
> “No! I have enlisted authority damn it!”
> Stamp foot for effect.
>>
>>42629299
> “No! I have enlisted authority damn it!”
>Giga Stomp
>>
>>42629299
>“No! I have enlisted authority damn it!”
>>
>>42629299
> “No! I have enlisted authority damn it!”
Kid can be stubborn too! Stubborn about authority!
>>
>>42629299
> “No! I have enlisted authority damn it!”
>>
> “No! I have enlisted authority damn it!”

You stomp your foot, hard enough that they both flinch at it. “No, I have enlisted authority damn it!” You flail your arms about, trying to make yourself look bigger. “I am a Sergeant, you are a Corporal! I am the Big Sister! Ugh!” You storm away from the two.

Rascal yells out to you. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m an only child!”

“It doesn’t!” you shout back.

Hmph. Who do they think they are, being the older wiser siblings? Why, if it were up to you you’d be the big one! All you need are some stilts and a lot of elbow grease and they’ll be the ones groveling to you for big sister things like advice, gossip, and other… things! You huff. Having your authority challenged like this and you being so angry about it! It’s not right!

You sit down next to one of the Tiger tanks, grumbling to yourself, crossing your arms. Not even a fight could make this day any better.

Suddenly, a flurry of flares shoot up from the Neuroi side of the field, illuminating the hill. You quickly dive for the ground, crawling towards one of the trenches. “Cover!” yells Thorn. “Get down!” You roll over into the trench, your helmet flopping off. Damn it, you should’ve done the strap. You grab one of the M1 Garands lying around and then poke your head up.

Through the binoculars you do see the Neuroi a-coming. It appears they’re sending in the smaller drones. The Kleiners. Little four legged wonders barely the size of dogs but packing enough punch to put a hole right through a jeep. Probably won’t be threatening the Tigers any time soon, and if anything they’re most likely scouts or mine-clearers. The Salvaging Hive likes to use them as little ants, claiming up any intact hulks and wrecks and then bringing them back to the Hive to be salvaged and repurposed.

[1/2]
>>
>>42630668
[2/2]

You quickly duck down and rush over to another trench up front. This was one empty. All of you were save for Rascal and Greta were in separate trenches. It was to keep spread out in case of heavy artillery and to widen the effective defense over a broad area of the hill. Right now, the order was to hold fire.

Should you still hold fire? They’re just in range of your all weapons, but you’re not sure if it’s wise to waste ammo on little drones like these ones.

> Wait for them to get closer so you can make accurate shots.
> Open fire and try to hit them from where you are.
> Suppress. You’ve got plenty of ammo anyway and you might scare them off.
> Other
>>
>>42630695
> Suppress. You’ve got plenty of ammo anyway and you might scare them off.
>>
>>42630695
> Suppress. You’ve got plenty of ammo anyway and you might scare them off.
>>
>>42630695
> Wait for them to get closer so you can make accurate shots.
>>
>>42630695
>Wait for them to get closer so you can make accurate shots.
>>
>>42630695
>Wait for them to get closer so you can make accurate shots.
>>
> Wait for them to get closer so you can make accurate shots.

“Hold your fire!” you yell. “Wait for them to get closer!” You hear the other girls yelling out affirmatives. Good, at least they’re listening to you. You rest the barrel of the Garand right on the edge of the trench, letting it steady your aim. The Kleiners skitter and scurry across the open slope running up the hill. They don’t appear to acknowledge you just yet. The Tiger tanks all depress their guns, pointing downwards. You hope they’re not planning on wasting HE shells on this lot.

Finally, after what seems to be an eternity, they close within fifty meters. Perfect. “Now!” Your gunfire lights them up. Bullets spark and ricochet off their armor, if not penetrating them entirely. Some Kleiners explode brilliantly like firecrackers. Other writhe and curl up like dead spiders after being shot. The Tigers thankfully are only using their coaxial machine guns to help suppress them.

But as for you, you have not made a single kill just yet. You keep your eye on the ironsights. Just need to be patient. Suddenly, one of those Kleiners scurries across the field, blasting at one of the Tigers. The shot pings off the front of the tank, leaving nothing but a scorchmark. There it is. You squeeze the trigger.

The Kleiner shatters in half, the two pieces curling up and dying, then fading into white mist. Yes! You got a kill! You hug your Garand, giddy, whining with joy. You quickly kiss it on the wood finish. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” Everything feels so great! Your body heats up immensely at the thought of having gotten a kill! Hahaha!

[1/2]
>>
>>42631720
[2/2]

“Kid, look sharp!” yells Thorn back to you. “There’s more coming!” You nod, bringing the barrel back down and blasting away at more of the Kleiners. They hiss and click loudly as they begin scurrying away from the trenches.

“They’re falling back!” yells Aurelia. “We’ve won!”

“Not yet! Everyone reload!” yells Thorn.

Oh crap. Thorn’s right. This was probably just a probe. Okay, at most you’ve probably got two minutes. You need to…

> Get a bigger weapon. The Garand’s nice, but it’s not a machine gun or a Bazooka or anything.
> Get in a trench with a friendly, any friendly.
> Run to the back for ammo. You’ve only got just the one clip for this Garand.
> Other
>>
>>42631742
> Run to the back for ammo. You’ve only got just the one clip for this Garand.
Kid can punch the heavies to death.
>>
>>42631742
> Get a bigger weapon. The Garand’s nice, but it’s not a machine gun or a Bazooka or anything.
>>
>>42631742
>Run to the back for ammo. You’ve only got just the one clip for this Garand.
>>
>>42631742
> Get in a trench with a friendly, any friendly.
>>
>>42631742
>Get a bigger weapon. The Garand’s nice, but it’s not a machine gun or a Bazooka or anything.
>>
> Run to the back for ammo. You’ve only got just the one clip for this Garand.

Screw this, you need ammo! You quickly sling the M1 over your shoulder and hurry out of the trench. Oh man, it’s going to be a struggle trying to find the spare ammunition in the dark. You are carrying spare ammo, but for your Thompson which you left in the front trench during your watch! You thought you’d have more time! Oh well, it’s not like an SMG is going to be much help anyway. You need accuracy, precision, and the grace of God to help you right now!

You end up behind the tanks, and find a few crates of ammo. You didn’t pile all the ammo in place. That’s just silly. Instead, you just spaced it out strategically around the hill. And in this particular dump of ammo, you find a lot of en bloc clips for the M1. You quickly stuff as many as you can down your pockets and on your belt. Alright, that should be enough to last the night! You quickly dash back to the trenches, in time to get shot at.

“What’s shooting at us!?” you yell.

Thorn yells back to you, trying her best to keep your head down. Sharp laser blasts, not artillery that’s for sure. Snipers? “Bigger drones! Largos!” More flares fire up over the hill, and you see indeed the Largo tank drone. Spider drones fitted with the biggest gun it can carry. These ones can actually threaten the Tigers. And the tank crews certainly seem to know it. The main guns start blasting away. Some shots pierce right through, shattering one.

[1/2]
>>
>>42633534
But there has to be several dozen slowly creeping up the hill. Good thing you got a lot of ammo. One of them blasts apart, and several behind it do as well. “Yes!” Greta pumps her fist, poking her head up. “Seven birds with one shot!” She immediately ducks to avoid a blast.

You keep your head down as well. They’re keeping you suppressed as they advance. If they get too close, the Tigers are done for and so are you!

> Grab some grenades, anything explosive, throw it over the top.
> Fire back. Worst case scenario you miss and hit something behind whatever you were aiming at.
> Fall back. There are further fall back positions nearer to the top of the hill with better defenses.
> Other
>>
>>42633562
>> Fire back. Worst case scenario you miss and hit something behind whatever you were aiming at.
Just keep shooting, just keep shooting....
>>
>>42633562
> Grab some grenades, anything explosive, throw it over the top.
>>
>>42633562
>Fire back. Worst case scenario you miss and hit something behind whatever you were aiming at.
>>
>>42633562
> Fire back. Worst case scenario you miss and hit something behind whatever you were aiming at.
Yeah, alright.
Off to sleep with me, night GS.
>>
>>42633562
>Fire back. Worst case scenario you miss and hit something behind whatever you were aiming at.
>>
Where's that nice, friendly Neuroi-girl when you need her? Kid only get the nasty, non-friendly Neuroi.
>>
>>42633562
> Fire back. Worst case scenario you miss and hit something behind whatever you were aiming at.
>>
> Fire back. Worst case scenario you miss and hit something behind whatever you were aiming at.

You stand up again and blast back at the big Neuroi drones. Your shots slice right through a few. Nothing lethal yet. Last shot and ping goes the Garand. The shot pops one of the Largo’s and sends it right to the ground. Yes! Another kill! Hehe! This is so much fun! You kiss the Garand again, and then load in another clip. You saw the instructional videos on how to use this. Very simple, press in new clip, slide, boom you’re good.

Aurelia keeps up accurate fire, popping more and more Largo’s attempting to turn the right flank. Greta and Rascal meanwhile hold down the center with Thorn in the front most trench coordinate the defense. So far on the left flank with just you alone, things are quiet in a manner of speaking. They’re clearly not intending to go to your side of the hill. Which means you can get free easy kills on Largos that are trying to break from the pack towards you.

And free easy kills are the best kind of kills. Ping goes the Garand again. You claimed another three victims with that. You’re already building up a kill count! Hehehe!

“Watch out!” You dive for cover, dodging a strafing run of laser blasts. You look up to see the lights of what appear to be flying drones. Probably Butcherbirds. Of course they’d call in air support on you. Thankfully, they don’t seem to be threatening. Probably just something to keep you suppressed while the Largos close in. “More on the right!”

[1/2]
>>
>>42635173
[2/2]

Greta shifts to the right a bit, then fires another round. This time, it rips through another five Largos in one shot. “Ha! You are dead! No surprise there!”

You pull up your binoculars and take an examining look past the horde of Neuroi. Beyond this wave of Largos appear to be nothing. It seems they’re banking on this small force on taking the hill with minimal air support. Which means if you destroy this load of Largos, that will be the end of it for tonight! At least, that’s the hope.

Which means if you get really up close. Maybe close enough that you can just BITE them… You lick your lips. Oh yes. That would be a real treat!

> No, no. You can’t charge into the fray.
> Charge into the fray and break up the attack.
> Other
>>
>>42635203
> No, no. You can’t charge into the fray.
>rattle a lot.
>>
>>42635203
>No, no. You can’t charge into the fray.
Safe, responsible sergeanting.
>>
>>42635203
> No, no. You can’t charge into the fray.
Kid pls
>>
>>42635203
> Charge into the fray and break up the attack.
>>
>>42635203
> No, no. You can’t charge into the fray.
>>
>>42635203
>No, no. You can’t charge into the fray.
>>
Didn't they have canister shells?
>>
>>42635203
>No, no. You can’t charge into the fray.
Not without a proper weapon. Look for an axe. The E-tool should suffice.
>>
> No, no. You can’t charge into the fray.

No, no, control yourself. Control yourself. You’re better than that. You’ll break up the attack now with simple accurate fire, celebrate, have a nice bath, get your kills tallied somewhere, boom! Simple as that, no need to risk anything. You keep on spraying out more and more bullets into the field. Some find their marks, some don’t. You earn a few more kills here and there though which feels amazing.

The tenacious defense the five of you put against such a large force is enough that the Largos actually turn around and start retreating. You’d expect that the smaller drones would retreat just to rile people up. But the big ones never retreat as far as you know. Still, you whoop and holler in victory. You won! You won your first battle! You throw your Garand to the ground and throw up a V-Sign. Greta, Aurelia, and Thorn cheer along with you as the Neuroi retreat back into the night.

“We won!” yells Greta. “We really won! We’re still alive!” The tank crews pop out of the hatches, throwing their caps and fists into the air, yelling in excitement.

Then the artillery slams down. The crews quickly go back into their tanks then hurry out of their hull-down holes back to fall back positions. Fair enough. As for you, you’ve made damn sure to prepare for this and apparently so did the previous occupants of the outpost. You lift a hatch on the side of the slit trench wall and scurry into a small tunnel. Must have been Fuso soldiers who did this, that or the Orussians. Now, if you orient yourself properly, this should take you to Thorn’s trench.

[1/2]
>>
>>42636857
[2/2]

Dirt rains down on you as the earth shakes. The Neuroi know now that the defense isn’t going to give up without a fight. So now they’re pulling out all the stops. You crawl your way through the dirt, with barely any light to guide you.

That is until you knock your head into Greta’s helmet. “Ow!”

“Oh, hey, Kid!” says Greta. “Isn’t this exciting!? We’re in the middle of a barrage!”

Thorn crawls in, pushing her head against your side. “Agh! Fecking crud!” You can hear struggle to move. “Ah, damn it. I think I’m wedged now.”

“These are some pretty small tunnels,” you say. “I was going to go to you Thorn, what are you doing?”

“I was trying to go to you!” says Thorn.

Greta squints. “Wait, why were we trying to go to each other? I thought protocol dictate we get as far away from each other as possible?” She looks over at you. “Less risk of more people getting hit with one shot.”

“Very good point,” says Thorn. “I’d go back, but I think I got my tits wedged on something. Ow!” You can hear her struggling and struggling but to no avail. “What about you, Greta?”

“Surprisingly roomy,” she says.

> “Let’s just stay here for the night. Neuroi heat blasts are superficial, they don’t penetrate far into the ground anyway.”
> “Greta’s got a point. Let’s all go back to our respective trenches for the night.”
> “Well, we have to get Thorn out before doing anything else.”
> Other
>>
>>42636879
>> “Well, we have to get Thorn out before doing anything else.”
>>
>>42636879
> “Well, we have to get Thorn out before doing anything else.”
>>
>>42636879
>“Let’s just stay here for the night. Neuroi heat blasts are superficial, they don’t penetrate far into the ground anyway.”
>>
>>42636879
>“Well, we have to get Thorn out before doing anything else.”
Getting stuck in a trench is as dangerous as not being a trench at all!
>>
> “Well, we have to get Thorn out before doing anything else.”

“Well, we have to get Thorn out first,” you say. “Come on!” You turn over on your side and plant your hands on Thorn’s head. Greta as well tries to orient herself to push on Thorn’s shoulder. “On three, one, two…” Thorn stiffens up, waiting for the push. “Three!”

“Agh! Stop!” You stop pushing. Didn’t feel like you were making much progress anyway. “Okay, one second, lemme try and push myself up.” She groans with exertion as she pushes up against the ceiling. “Okay! Now!” You and Greta push harder this time, and she yells in pain as she’s finally pushed back into her trench. “Agh! Motherfucker! Okay I’m through! Thanks!”

Greta nods. “Alright. I will get back to my trench then. It’s not safe to be altogether like this.” Fair point. “Good night, try not to let the arty hit you.” You start crawling back to your own trench. Crawling backwards is an awkward experience, but it does happen eventually. You kick the lid off and get right back into your trench. The loud explosions booming around certainly are going to keep you awake. You search around your knapsack and pull out some ear plugs. Awesome!

You stick them in your ear and curl up. You can still feel the vibrations rock and shake the ground beneath you. And the noise is only slightly muffled. But at least now you can peacefully lie down and wait for it to blow over. This isn’t the Great War after all, they can’t shell you forever.

You sigh deeply, lying down. You weren’t exactly a big sister today but maybe tomorrow. You don’t need to rush it. You’ll prove yourself one day.

But for now, rest with this wonderful barrage of artillery. The constant and very rough vibrations along the ground do keep you awake. Not with a feeling of dread or anything like that. But with… what’s the word you’re looking for, excitement maybe? No, different. Pleasure? You’d get weird looks even though that’s the most direct way of saying it.

Oh well. Stills feels great.
>>
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That's it for tonight's Tank Witches of Orussia. Should return next weekend hopefully. Hope you all enjoyed.

Follow at: https://twitter.com/GermanSchteel
Ask at: http://germanschteel.tumblr.com/

See you next time.
>>
>>42638243
Thanks for running, boss.
>>
>>42638243
Thanks for running GS
>>
>>42638243
Thanks for running boss!



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