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File: Magical Girl Victory.jpg (178 KB, 1280x773)
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Your name is Victory, and you are a magical girl of the Bureau of Special Research and Actions. You are currently on the southern shore of France, creeping along the darkened beach. Supposedly, Mediterranean beaches were supposed to be among the best in the world. That’s a bit hard to believe, but maybe with fewer coastal gun batteries, swastikas, and machine gun nests you'd be able to see it.

After confirming that the coast was clear you continue down the beach, careful to avoid the periodic patrols that the garrison sends out. They’re ordinary soldiers, hardly a match for a magical girl. But still, you’d rather not compromise yourself this early during the mission. The patrols don’t seem to be very attentive, many stop on their routes to rest or smoke.

You check your map and head towards the weak point in the Mediterranean Wall that the Free French Army was kind enough to mark for you. A squad of Grenadiers and a Kubelwagon greet you. They look rather disheveled, you think you spy a bit of blood on their uniforms. One of the Grenadiers waves at you.

“Bonjour, mademoiselle Jones. I trust your trip here was smooth?”

You frown, Chariot manned torpedos were never designed for extended range travel, and definitely weren’t designed to evade naval mines. But, they had sealed cockpits, so you didn’t get too wet. Little victories.

“No, but I managed.”

The Grenadier smiles wryly and shrugs, before turning to open the rear door of the vehicle.

“Eh, c’est la vie, non? At least you’re alive, and the mission isn’t a bust. What more could you ask for? Now get in, keep your head down, and let us do the talking.”

A figure runs down the road frantically, also dressed in German fatigues. He speaks rapidly in French to the Grenadier, who’s face hardens as he listens. He pushes you towards the car.

“Get in s'il vous plaît, guests are on their way. Waffen-SS.”

Waffen-SS? Nasty folks, but still normal soldiers nonetheless.

[x] “I’m a magical girl, they shouldn’t prove too much of an issue for me. We should fight.”
[x] Waffen-SS troopers might not scare you, but they’ll slaughter these guerrillas without batting an eyelash. Follow orders.
[x] Write in
>>
>>371014
[x] Waffen-SS troopers might not scare you, but they’ll slaughter these guerrillas without batting an eyelash. Follow orders.
>>
[x] Waffen-SS troopers might not scare you, but they’ll slaughter these guerrillas without batting an eyelash. Follow orders
>>
>>371014
>[x] “I’m a magical girl, they shouldn’t prove too much of an issue for me. We should fight.”
>>
>>371014
>[x] Waffen-SS troopers might not scare you, but they’ll slaughter these guerrillas without batting an eyelash. Follow orders.

Good to see you again man
>>
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>>371033
>>371053
>>371206
>[x] Waffen-SS troopers might not scare you, but they’ll slaughter these guerrillas without batting an eyelash. Follow orders.

You dart into the car, the three other Frenchmen take their seats in the vehicle, adjusting their presumably stolen uniforms, making themselves presentable. You do as you're told and keep as low as possible. The car goes painfully slowly, in an attempt to look inconspicuous.

Eventually, you roll to a stop, and you spot a pair of figures clad in greatcoats. Their SS lapels glimmer softly in the dull light of searchlights. Your escorts begin conversing with them, in indecipherable German. The troopers seem satisfied with the documents the Grenadier produces. The older of the pair of SS asks something and the guerrilla next to you blanches slightly. He leans over slightly, close enough for you to hear him whisper.

"They want to search the car, cachez-vous!"

You nod, looking for anything that might conceal you. There's small cardboard box in the car, and a field blanket.

[x]Hide in the box
[x]Hide under the blanket
[x]There's only two of them, take 'em out.
[x]Write-in

Give me a d20 roll, I'll take the best of them to determine the results.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d20)

[x]Hide under the blanket
>>
Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>371247
[x] Use one of your more subtle powers to turn into a cat with odd markings.

If I roll low, it probably has a glaringly obvious lightshow sequence to go with the transformation.
>>
So is this roll under or over?
>>
>>371407
Ha! Only appropriate for a magical girl.
>>
>>371412
Over, really considering making it roll under after those horrible rolls
>>
Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>371247
[x]There's only two of them, take 'em out.

That said, I'd like to see you write the flashy cat transformation if you can do that instead of this.
>>
>>371471
Though perhaps you could use this roll to do something cool.
>>
Gonna take one more vote and start writing
>>
>>371515
I'll vote for horrible-roll magic cat!
>>
>>371407
We just turned into a catgirl didn't we
>>
>>371596
Please let us have either transformed into a catgirl or Battlecat.
>>
File: SS Trooper.jpg (180 KB, 723x1024)
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>>371407
>>371531
You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing your energy on transformation, much like how you'd shift into your superpowered form, except you focus on a cat. A soft, fluffy, unassuming calico. With the stars and stripes adorning it's fur.

You hear the SS troops shout in alarm. Luckily, it seems that they haven't started shooting yet. Yet being the keyword here.

You open your eyes again and scan your surroundings. You definitely aren't a cat. Oh, the Free French guerilla sitting next to you stares at you half in shock and half in fear.

You feel the sea tickle your ears. Wait, your ears aren't supposed to be the top of your head. And when were they so fluffy? After the SS regain their bears they train their rifles on you.

"Hexen!"

"Whoops."

[x] Transform and fight
[x] Grab the a weapon from the guerrillas and fight without magic
[x] Hop out, CQC the SS
[x] Write in
>>
>>371658
>[x] Hop out, CQC the SS
>>
Ah, right, I'll need rolls for this too
>>
[x] Hop out, CQC the SS
Lets hope we take them out quickly
>>
Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>
>>371658
>[x] Hop out, CQC the SS
>>
Mother of god I'm rolling poorly tonight.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>371687

Take a moment to check if we have claws now. They could help with CQC.

When we get a moment check ourselves out. Having a tail will shift our center of balance, and we need to know it its strong enough to support our weight or choke someone out.

See if we have fur. It's not something we want to find out late after we dive into a late or something.
>>
>>371697
Did we just trip over our own tail and fall on our face...
>>
File: the hell is that.gif (409 KB, 680x720)
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>>371697
>First thread
>Double 1s already
>>
>>371704
When will Jara return and take all the bad rolls back q_q
>>
>>371704
So when do we get captured and this turns into The Great Escape?
>>
>>371688
>>371693
>>371697
You crouch low to the ground and hop out of the Kubelwagon, the SS are quick to follow you. You go for the lead trooper's legs, trying to take him down. He rewards you with a boot to the face, kicking you upwards. That's gonna bruise. You stand up, and try wrestle the gun away from him. It's The younger of the pair seems to hesitate. A smart move, seeing as he probably doesn't want to accidentally shoot his superior.

Sudden pain rips through your shoulder blade. Blood soaks your clothing. The rounds travels through you, and into the SS trooper. Another round tears into his jugular, and he falls over. The other SS trooper meets a similar fate.

You turn around slowly facing the Grenadier, holding a smoking C96 Mauser. His hand is trembling violently.

[x] Berate him.
[x] Thank him.
[x] Write in
>>
>>371738
>[x] Thank him.
And now to hide the bodies and run. Somebody's bound to have heard the gunshots.
>>
>>371738
[x] Thank him.
>>
[x] Thank him.
>>
[x] Thank him

because you are still alive and can move your arms freely, although the bullet scrach hurts
>>
[x] Thank him

Because you are still alive and can move your arms freely, although the bullet scrach hurts.
>>
[x] Thank him

Because you are still alive and can move your arms freely, although the bullet scrach hurts.~~i like banana
>>
>>371774
>>371771
>>371767
Why'd you post 3 times?
>>
File: Downtown.jpg (183 KB, 1191x671)
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>>371744
>>371747
>>371753
You grit your teeth, shoulder flaring with pain. Moving it results in jolts of pain, making you suck in air through your teeth. Magical girls might be more resilient than the average person, but you tolerance for pain was never too high. The bleeding is slowing to a trickle, though the bootprint on your face is starting to swell.

The Grenadier can hardly make eye contact with you, hardly speaking at all. The other guerilla wrapped your wound in a makeshift tourniquet.

"Thanks for that back there, with the SS. Dunno if I would've made it without you I'd take having a nasty bullet wound over being locked up in some Hexenkraft lab any day of the week."

He finally reacts, smirking slightly.

"I'm just glad I didn't aim for the head."

The rest of the ride into Marseilles is uneventful. The city is totally inundated with Nazis. You continue hiding in the car as you pass through what seems to be hundreds of security checkpoints, until you arrive at an unassuming two story house.

"That's bizarre. We posted lookouts here before we left to the beach. Where are they?"

That's bizarre indeed.

[x] Check the area, people don't just disappear, maybe this is a trap
[x] Enter the house slowly and carefully, take point
[x] Write in
>>
>>371868
>[x] Check the area, people don't just disappear, maybe this is a trap

Do we still have cat features? Maybe we can use our new ears to better listen
>>
[x] Check the area, people don't just disappear, maybe this is a trap
>>
>>371872
Yes. You haven't transformed out of your cat form yet
>>
I'll take another vote, and then start writing
>>
>>371868
>[x] Check the area, people don't just disappear, maybe this is a trap
Sure, I'll toss a vote to being cautious.
>>
>>371872
>>371896
>>371952
You leave the car, quietly closing the door behind you. Apart from being completely deserted, there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary about the street. The guerrillas follow closely behind you as you travel down the street.

Your cat ears twitch in the direction an the alleyway to the left of you. Some faint rustling or shifting. Maybe it's some animal. Still, can't hurt to check it out.

[x] Check it out yourself
[x] Bring someone with you
[x] Send a guerrilla
[x] Send the Grenadier
[x]Write in
>>
>>371970
>[x] Send a guerrilla
>>
>>371970
>[x] Check it out yourself
>>
[x] Check it out yourself
>>
>>371970
>[x] Send a guerrilla
>>
Looks like we need a tiebreaker
>>
>>372086
If no tiebreaker happens, I suggest you roll a die
>>
Rolled 5 (1d6)

1-3 is for going in alone
4-6 is for sending in a FFA soldier
>>
File: Mercy.jpg (48 KB, 500x900)
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One of them nods, readying his MP40. He cautiously steps into the alleyway. Once he’s out of sight, a screech of pain emerges from him, it’s continues as he’s flung out of the alleyway and pinned against the brickwork of a building, via a scalpel through his throat.

The source of the scalpel emerges from the alleyway, curtseying as she spots you and your team. Most of her face is concealed by a surgical mask; which is adorned with the iron cross instead of the usual red one.

“Heehee, how convenient! The rat has found the trap all by herself! That means we can dispose of the bait now!”

Four scalpels appear in between the fingers of her left hand, poised to be launched at you. They shine dangerously in the moonlight. You can practically see the crazed smile under her surgical mask.

“This might sting a bit~!”

>Magical Girl [Mercy]

[x] Transform and fight her
[x] Run, focus on the mission
[x] Distract her somehow so you can escape
[x]Write in

And on that note, I think I'll end it for today. I'll be here at around the same time tomorrow (7 PM EST) Feel free to vote or discuss your next move until then
>>
>>372125
So she can apparently telekinetically throw knives so hard a grown man is sent flying and pinned to a wall. I think it's time we go full magical girl.

Although the 'dispose of the bait' part has me worried
>>
>>372125
She has all the signs of a returning villain.
Which means we need to pound her into the ground right now and here to prevent this.

>[x] Transform and fight her
>>
>[x] Transform and fight her
Agreed. We also need to end her quickly before reinforcements show up
>>
>>372125
>[x] Transform and fight her
>>
>>372125
>[x] Transform and fight her
cat fight
>>
Guys, dispose of the bait means we're going to lose our allies/who we came here to meet, if we take the time to fight her.

Maybe we should transform... and run past her.
>>
>>372448
Fight her but send guerillas ahead.
>>
File: Victory uniform.png (2.12 MB, 724x1023)
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I'm back, as promised

>>372443
>[x] Transform and fight her
>[x] Fight her but send guerillas ahead.
You're enveloped a blindingly bright light, emerging from it in your magical girl outfit. An ornate military uniform, complete with a classy peaked cap and shiny golden pauldrons in the shape of lions-heads. Much better looking than those rags Mercy calls her costume, if you do say so yourself. The remaining guerilla stares at you in dumbfounded awe.

"Get back to the house, make sure the defector is safe!"

The Grenadiers, nods and shakes his comrade out of his reverie before they run back to the house.

Your weapon materializes itself in your hand. A spike maul, not unlike the ones used by American railroad workers.The maul is more like a polearm, with how long the handle is; it's an odd choice of weapon, to be sure but it has yet to fail you. You twirl it in your hands like a baton.

"You better have some painkillers ready."

Mercy hardly seems fazed by your display, or your banter.

"I've seen autopsies more impressive than you!"

[x] Attack her
[x] Defend yourself, react to her attacks
[x] Banter with her as you fight, try throwing her off
[x] Write in

Roll a d20 with your vote, I'll take the highest one
>>
Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>374406
>[x] Attack her
Break her arms!
>>
Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>374406
>[x] Attack her

>>374428
Nice job
>>
>>374428
What he said. And rolled.
>>
>>374428
>>374439
>>374443
>[x] Attack her
>CRIT

Mercy sends her scalpels flying towards you. You bat two of them away, and evade the other ones. One of them flies close enough to your head to snip off a few locks of your hair. You can feel power radiating off of it, a slight burning sensation accompanying it.

You respond by lunging at Mercy, who's unprepared for such a savage attack. Her eyes widen as you slam the head of the maul into her elbow. You can hear the sound of bone cracking under it.

Mercy's scream of pain is muffled by her mask as she stumbles back, clutching her arm tightly. The glare she shoots you could melt steel.

"I'LL FILET YOU!"

Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. She pushes her arm back into it's natural position, bones, tendons, and ligaments snapping back into place. That sounds like it hurts more than your attack did. Her arm flexes, testing the repairs she probably just made. It doesn't respond.

An inarticulate scream of rage comes from her throat as she charges you, gripping a scalpel like a knife. She tackles you, knocking you to the ground. The only thing keeping her from piercing your heart is the haft of your maul.

You flip her off of you, and bring your maul into her other elbow, shattering it with a sickly crack.

"Y-you do-dog! I swear I'll kill you! I'll make you wish you were dead!"

You take the time to straighten up your uniform as she rants. She brings her arm up to her neck slowly, and speaks into what appears to be a mic. You can't hear much of what the person on the other end is saying, but you did hear 'Jawhol!'

She must have called for reinforcements. You recall her saying something about a trap, and your mind goes back to the house.

[x] Stay here, finish her off
[x] Go back to the house, make sure the insurgents are safe
>>
>>374578
Can we finish her off quickly then go back to the house?

If not
>[x] Go back to the house, make sure the insurgents are safe
>>
>>374578
>[x] Go back to the house, make sure the insurgents are safe
>>
>>374606
Seconded
>>
>>374606
>>374608
>>374620

Guys, we're not always gonna crit. She's got heals and if we don't finish her off now, she'll just snipe our men as we run. We've gotta have a little faith in our men. They probably don't have another magical girl, so they should be able to hold out a little bit.

If they DO have another magical girl, getting hammer and anvil'd will NOT be fun.
>>
>>374578
[x] Stay here, finish her off
I'll change my vote then as you make a good point,
>>
>>374606
>>374608
>>374620
You walk towards Mercy, she's changed her tune rather quickly. Now she's trying her best to keep her composure, but she can't help but cower as you close with her. You slam your spike maul into her chest, sending her flying into the wall behind. She lies still.

>Magical Girl 「Mercy」 DEFEATED

With that out of the way, you run back to the house. Gunshots fill the air. You can hear automatics firing. That's not good, better get there stat.

Bodies line the street, many of them wear German uniforms, the squad of FFA was been whittled away to nothing, leaving the only Grenadier alive. And even then, he seems to have taken a few rounds himself, blood has liberally covered his uniform. He motions for you to get closer.

"Your defector's still alive, all cut up and in bad shape, but alive. Get her out of here, amie." He gives you a smile and a salute.

"Bu wha-"

"I'll be fine, it's gonna take more than a few Hexenkraft bâtards to kill me."

[x]"I can get you both out of here. You don't have to die!"
[x] "Understood. It's been a pleasure"
[x]Write in
>>
>>374749
>[x] "Understood. It's been a pleasure."

Unless we have miraculous healing powers, it looks like it's time to bugger out
>>
>>374749
[x]"I can get you both out of here. You don't have to die!"
>>
Gonna take another vote and start writing
>>
>>374749

"Understood. It's been a pleasure."
>>
>>374763
>>374903

"Understood. It's been a pleasure"

You nod solemnly, and go into the house. The report of the Grenadier's Mauser is clear even through the walls of the house. The assorted Nazi soldiers reply with withering firepower. There's no way someone could survive out there

You're greeted by a gruesome sight. A topless girl is bound on a table by the legs. It becomes quite obvious why her captors didn't bother with her arms, seeing as one of her hands have been cut off, and the other is covered in bloody bandages. Her body is filled with cuts and incisions, some already sealing themselves up. She doesn't seem to be conscious. This must be the bait that Mercy was talking about.

You untie her, she shifts around as you free her brow creasing as she mutters something in German angrily.

[x] Wake her up, you need her to be one her feet and moving if you're going to pull this off
[x] Leave her as she is, and carry her on you.
[x] Write in
>>
>>374980
[x] Wake her up, you need her to be one her feet and moving if you're going to pull this off
>>
>>374980
>[x] Leave her as she is, and carry her on you.
Doing otherwise is just not the right thing to do.
>>
>[x] Leave her as she is, and carry her on you.
>>
>>374980
Leave as is, carry.
>>
>>374980
>[x] Leave her as she is, and carry her on you.
>>
>>374985
>>374989
>>375005
>>375032
The next step in the mission is to meet up at Pier 12, where you're supposed to get picked up by a Bureau agent with a fishing boat.

Recent events have made doing that exponentially more difficult.

You heft the girl over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes, she hits you with her stump softly in defiance. It looks like the firefight outside has stopped. After a cursory glance at the street outside, it appears that a few soldiers have been stationed here, probably to clean the area of any stragglers. You can't see the Grenadier, or his body from this angle. Maybe they captured him, or maybe he escaped.

[x] Deal with the patrols
[x] Try sneaking past them
[x] Find Mercy and take her uniform as a disguise.
[x] Write in
>>
>>375053
>[x] Try sneaking past them
>>
>>375053
>[x] Try sneaking past them
Though I will admit, taking Mercy's uniform is tempting. Too much time needed though.
>>
>>375053
>[x] Try sneaking past them
>>
>>375058
>>375063
>>375071
You peek out the window, waiting for the majority of the patrol to leave on their rounds. Once you're a hundred and ten percent that they've passed you push the front door open, and leave as quietly as you can, careful to not disturb the unconscious form of the defector too badly.

You figure that having an unconscious, half naked mutilated girl on your shoulder would be a tad bit suspicious, so you stick to the alleyways and backstreets of the city. It takes you almost two hours to get to the pier, but you haven't been spotted by a soldier or a police officer yet.

You can almost taste escape as you get to the pier. You spot the Requin, your getaway vehicle. But, there's one last set of guards barring your way to success.

[x] You're close enough to the end, kill the guards and tell the helmsman to step on it
[x] Their pier might be crowded, but stealth hasn't failed you so far. Sneak onto the boat
[x] Bluff your way past them? That might prove difficult
[x] Write in
Give me a d20, as usual.
>>
Rolled 14 (1d20)

[x] Their pier might be crowded, but stealth hasn't failed you so far. Sneak onto the boat
>>
Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>375124
>[x] Their pier might be crowded, but stealth hasn't failed you so far. Sneak onto the boat
>>
Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>375124
>[x] Their pier might be crowded, but stealth hasn't failed you so far. Sneak onto the boat
Sneaky sneaky...
>>
>>375135
Well hot damn. Guess we have some camoflage magic on our hands.
>>
>Two 1s last session
>Two 20s this session
Jesus Christ dice gods make up your mind
>>
>>375134
>>375135
>>375142
>[x] Their pier might be crowded, but stealth hasn't failed you so far. Sneak onto the boat

The pier is starting to buzz with activity, thanks to rush hour. Dockhands and other workers go about their business, making quite a ruckus as they do so. Many of them are large, muscular me and easily block you from sight. You hardly have to try hiding, and the workers are so engross in their business that they don't have time to even pay attention to you.

You manage to creep into the Requin without much of a fuss. A man nods at you, before starting the boat. It rockets away from their pier. You place the defector on a seat, and sit next to her. She seems to be finally coming too, eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Wast ist los..."

[x] "Uh, good morning? How are you feeling?"
[x] "It's okay, you're safe."
[x] Write in
>>
>>375194
[x] "Uh, good morning? How are you feeling?"
>>
>>375194
>[x] "It's okay, you're safe."
>>
>>375194
>[x] "Uh, good morning? How are you feeling?"
>[x] "It's okay, you're safe."
Both, both is good.
>>
>>375194
>[x] "Sprechen Sie Englisch?"
>>
>[x] "Sprechen Sie Englisch?"
>>
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>>375198
>>375203
>>375207
>>375216
The girl still seems rather wooz, probably thanks to the blood loss she endured at the the hands of her captors. You decide to try some of the basic German you know. You shouldn't be able to screw this up too badly.

"Sprechen sie Englisch?"

"Ja-wait, I mean yes."

"Good, good. how are you feeling?"

"Like scheisse..."

Her eyes shoot open as realization hits her like a bolt of lightning.She slowly looks at her stump, and then at her ruined arm. Her mouth hangs open, as if not wanting to accept the reality of the situation. An awkward silence hangs over you for the better part of five minutes.

"I-I'm sorry I talked, that black haired bitch cut me up, a-and it hurt so much..."

Tears stream from her eyes.

[x] Black haired bitch? She must mean Mercy. "She's dead and can't hurt you anymore"
[x] "It isn't your fault."
[x] Write in
>>
>>375259
[x] Black haired bitch? She must mean Mercy. "She's dead and can't hurt you anymore"
>>
>>375259
[x] "It isn't your fault."
>>
>>375259
>[x] Black haired bitch? She must mean Mercy. "She's dead and can't hurt you anymore"
>>
>>375259
>[x] Black haired bitch? She must mean Mercy. "She's dead and can't hurt you anymore"
>>
>>375259
>[x] Black haired bitch? She must mean Mercy. "She's dead and can't hurt you anymore"
I am really glad that we smoked Mercy when we had the chance.
>>
>>375263
>>375271
>>375292
"You mean Mercy?"

The defector's face pales as you say the scalpel wielding magical girl's name. She replies with a slow nod. She wipes away the last of her tears.

"I hope so, for her sake."

She turns back to face you, unwilling to look you in the eye.

"Are you angry with me? For talking?"

What the hell kind of question is that? How can you be angry with her for being forced to confess?

"It isn't your faul-

"But it is. I wasn't strong enough, and you had to suffer because of me."

[x] "No."
[x] "Speaking honestly, a little. A lot of people died when they didn't have to."
[x] Write in
>>
>>375324
>>[x] Write in
It's an occupational hazard dear, and if those wounds were to go by it certainly took quite a bit before you talked anyway. And yes, while a lot of people did die when they didn't have too, they believe that whatever you know would be worth their lives. So keep your chin up and keep moving on forward ja?
>>
>>375324
[x] "No."
Survivors guilt. No fun for anyone.
>>
>>375324
>[x] Write in
It's all part of the job for girls like us, getting you away from that horrible woman then makes it all worth it.
>>
>>375339
Seconding
>>
>>375324
"And even more people died because you didn't invent a magical food source to feed all the world's population. I don't expect you to hold out against Mercy's torture any more than I expect you to solve world hunger."
>>
>>375339
>>375346
>>375348
You shake your head. Is this what they teach the girls in Schwarzwald? That they're weaklings for caving to torture and amputation?

"No."

She's quite visibly shocked at your answer. You give her an award winning smile, and drape your arm over her shoulders.

"It's an occupational hazard dear, and if those wounds were to go by it certainly took quite a bit before you talked anyway. And yes, while a lot of people did die when they didn't have too, they believe that whatever you know would be worth their lives. So keep your chin up and keep moving on forward, ja?"

This does nothing to assuage her shock. It seems she's still trying to grasp why you're forgiving her.

"It's all part of the job for girls like us, getting you away from that horrible woman makes it all worth it."

"Thank you. My former superior probably would have killed me herself if she was in your place."

It's a good thing you aren't one of those heartless Hexenkraft witches then.

"Do you have a name?"

You hesitate, and consider giving her your real name. But you recoil at the thought. If memory serves you right, and her dossier's correct, she's Erika Faust.

"Victoria. Victoria Jones."

The sounds of the ocean lull the two of you to sleep, and you wake up once the Requin docks at Camp Eisenhower, a forward operating base for Allied special forces operations in the European theater. A medical crew is already on the scene when you arrive, and they cart Erika off quickly.

A man wearing the Bureau's insignia on his chest is also waiting for you.

"Victory? Command is waiting to debrief you. Please meet them at your earliest convince."

[x] Paperwork can wait, you're so hungry you could eat 10 horses now.
[x] Follow the medical personnel.
[x] Do as you're told and go get debriefed.
[x] Write in
>>
>>375420
>[x] Paperwork can wait, you're so hungry you could eat 10 horses now.
>>
>>375420
>>[x] Paperwork can wait, you're so hungry you could eat 10 horses now.
>>
>>375420
>[x] Paperwork can wait, you're so hungry you could eat 10 horses now.
>[x] See about getting some food for Erika.
>>
>>375420
>[x] Do as you're told and go get debriefed.
>>
OP, do we still have the cat ears on?
>>
>>375420
>[x] Do as you're told and go get debriefed.
>>
>>375440
No, you're in your normal, human form now.
>>
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>>375421
>>375426
>>375428
You yawn and stretch our your arms, the weather's rather pleasant now, and you really don't feel like filling out pounds of forms after getting interrogated by your higher-ups. There's time for that after you stuff your face, right?

You make your way to the mess hall, eager to fill the void in your stomach. You're in the middle of taking two helpings of everything when you hear someone slam the table. The hall goes quiet as another girl shoots up from her chair, very obviously angry about something. Her Bostonian accent is very, very distinctive

"You can't just say those things to my face and expect to get away with it. Let's take this outside!"

The white haired girl she's talking to scoffs at the challenge.

"Really? You want to fight moi? Have you taken too many hits to the head, Josie?"

"I'm serious, I've had it up to here with you!"

"Fine, let us go then!"

[x] Try to break up the fight
[x] Go outside, enjoy breakfast and a show
[x] Do nothing, this doesn't concern you
[x] Write in
>>
>>375489
>[x] Go outside, enjoy breakfast and a show
>>
>>375489
>[x] Go outside, enjoy breakfast and a show
So which girl looks like fem!Joseph?
>>
>>375489
>>[x] Write in
Go to medical and bring food to the German grill.
>>
>>375501
The angry one
>>
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>>375492
>>375501
You decide to go watch the fight, with many other soldiers, and a few magical girls. The crowd makes a circle around the two, and make sure to give them plenty of room to maneuver. Joise transforms, and assumes a boxing stance, bobbing and weaving.

>Magical Girl 「Uppercut」

The other girl just gives Josie a smug smile before transforming.

>Magical Girl 「Epéiste」

"I do not understand why you are so angry at me whenever this topic comes up. Clockwork died because she just was not good enough, not good enough to face the leader of the Hexenkraft alone, at least."

"You bitch!"

Josie is having none of it. She drops any pretense of tactics, and charges at Epéiste head on, who giggles as she steps out of the way, letting Uppercut's momentum carry her into the ground.

Uppercut springs back onto her feet, trying to deliver a kick at the same time. This attack is also evaded by Epéiste. Uppercut hardly misses a beat, and faints with one, normal looking fist before delivering a shining, multicolored fist into Epéiste's stomach. The crowd gasps as she's sent into the air, and lands.

"Don't ever disrespect Holly again, or I'll have to teach you a lesson again. Understood?"

Uppercut doesn't wait for Epéiste's response before leaving in a huff, the crowd parting for her.

Well, that was something.

[x] Go after Josie, see what's got her so worked up.
[x] Check up on Erika
[x] Actually do some work and get debriefed now
[x] Write in
>>
>>375596
>[x] Actually do some work and get debriefed now
>>
>>375596
>[x] Actually do some work and get debriefed now
>>
>>375596
[x] Actually do some work and get debriefed now
Want to check up on both Josie and Erika, but I suppose that can wait.
>>
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>>375600
>>375609
>>375614
Josie must really like this Holly girl. Ahe's probably a magical girl, seeing as how Epéiste referred to her as 'Clockwork' before. Though, you've heard of "Half-gifted" people being referred to using codenames. Maybe Josie and Holly were lovers before Holly's untimely demise at the hands of the Hexenkraft? You shake the thoughts from your mind. That's just silly, girls can't love girls.

You eventually find yourself at the administrative building of Camp Eisenhower. It's dark and cold in here, almost sterile. The room reserved for the Bureau is hardly any better, being filled with cigarette smoke despite none of it's occupants smoking.

"Athena Dawkins. Congratulations are in order. The rescue of Erika Faust will not only hamper the Hexenkraft and their operations, she will prove to be a great asset to our goals as well. Is there anything you wish to report?

[x] Tell them about Mercy, tell them that you killed her too
[x] Tell them about the guerrillas you were with, maybe you can get them some posthumous commendations.
[x] Write in
>>
>>375652
>[x] Tell them about Mercy, tell them that you killed her too
>>
>>375652
[x] Tell them about the guerrillas you were with, maybe you can get them some posthumous commendations.
>>
>>375652
>[x] Tell them about Mercy, tell them that you killed her too
[x] Tell them about the guerrillas you were with, maybe you can get them some posthumous commendations.
Why not both?
>>
>[x] Tell them about Mercy, tell them that you killed her too
>[x] Tell them about the guerrillas you were with, maybe you can get them some posthumous commendations.
Why not both?
>>
>>375652
>[x] Tell them about Mercy, tell them that you killed her too
>[x] Tell them about the guerrillas you were with, maybe you can get them some posthumous commendations
>>
>>375657
>>375661
>>375662
>>375663
>>375670
"Yes, I do. I encountered a Hexenkraft magical girl operative in Marseilles, codenamed Mercy. From what I saw in the field, it seems that she was skilled at interrogation, and was capable of throwing scalpels at extreme speeds. She also seemed to posses a limited ability to heal her wounds."

This results in some concerned murmuring among the officers. The lead one speaks, and the rest of them are silent.

"That is most fortunate, Miss Dawkins. Let us hope that your fatal blow was truly fatal. We will advise our troops to be vigilant in searching for someone possessing this regenerative ability, regardless."

You really hope she's staying dead. The thought of her gleefully operating on some other unfortunate magical girl sends a shiver down your spine.

"Additionally, I encountered a cell of Free French Army fighters on my way to Marseilles. I would not have survived the mission were it not for their efforts. Unfortunately, they have all been killed in action. Perhaps you could arrange for posthumous awards for them."

This brings even more murmuring.

"Ah, yes, the Marseilles Twelve. It is most unfortunate that they have been lost. The loss of veterans like them will hurt Allied efforts to retake France. But, I will do as you say. Do you have anything else to report?"

You shake your head, and are then dismissed. You never felt comfortable in there, and you don't think you ever will.

What will you do now?

[x] Check on Erika
[x] Find those magical girls from earlier
[x] Wander the island for a bit.
[x] Write in
>>
>>375709
>[x] Check on Erika
>>
>>375709
>[x] Check on Erika
>>
>>375709
[x] Check on Erika
>>
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>>375709
>[x] Check on Erika
>>
>>375714
>>375715
>>375717
>>375721
The warm, Mediterranean air washes over you as you leave the icy building. You wonder why they have to keep it so cold in there, maybe it also doubles as the base icebox?

A plausible theory, but one you're not too eager to prove. You think as make your way to the medical building. It seems that they're already letting people see Erika. You're the only one who visits her, of course.

After a few knocks, Erika lets you in herself. Her arms are covered by opaque gloves. They seem like normal arms to layperson. She goes back to lie in her bed, and invites you sit at her side.

[x] "We never really got a chance to get antiquated. Who are you exactly?"
[x] "What's with the gloves?"
[x] Write in
>>
>>375746
>[x] "We never really got a chance to get antiquated. Who are you exactly?"
>>
>>375746
open with nice gloves
then [x] "We never really got a chance to get antiquated. Who are you exactly?"
>>
>antiquated
whoops, meant acquainted
>>
>>375746
>[x] "We never really got a chance to get antiquated. Who are you exactly?"
>>
>>375748
>>375753
>>375767

"Nice gloves, wonder where I could get a pair."

She hides them under her blanket when you point them out. Guess she's sensitive about her arms

"We never really got a chance to get acquainted. Who are you exactly?"

Erika tilts her head quizzically. You know quite a bit about her, the dossier that the Bureau provided you was rather detailed.

"I am Leutnant Erika Faust, codenamed Panzer, serial number zero zero one-"

"But who is Erika Faust? Surely you had things you liked doing while you weren't getting ordered around by Hexenkraft?"

She nods, a slight smile crosses her face.

"Piano. Papa and I used to play piano together. Back when Papa was still alive, and before they took me to Schwarzwald. I still remember the songs he taught me, they're the only things left of my life before the war. And no matter how many mistakes I made he wouldn't get angry with me."

It's your turned to be shocked by what she says. This girl was responsible for killing her superior officer when she was with the Hexenkraft, and yet here she was pouring her heart out about her childhood to you.

"Ah, well that's very nice. Maybe you could play for me at some point?"

"Someday, I hope."

A silence fills the room.

[x] Ask her about her time with the Hexenkraft
[x] Ask her about why she defected
>>
>>375804
>[x] Ask her about her time with the Hexenkraft
I doubt they were very nice people, considering that they hired "Mercy".
>>
>>375804
>[x] Ask her about why she defected
>>
>>375804
>[x] Ask her about her time with the Hexenkraft
>>
>>375804
ask her about some of the songs she used to sing/play and mybe ask her to teach you some
noo need for her to rember all the bad things just yet
>>
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>>375808
>>375813
>[x] Ask her about her time with the Hexenkraft

"You chose to join the Hexenkraft, right? What was is it like with them?"

Her face seems to be trying to process a mixture of emotions.

"I liked it, at first. I wanted to be with my friends from Schwarzwald. To use my magic however I wanted."

She stares at her legs for a moment, before continuing.

"But then I met our leader. They called her Dracula. All the other girls fawned over her, maybe I did too at a point. It wasn't until they had us round people up for 'conscription' and 'enhancement' that I realized just how evil they were, that Dracula was."

She shudders, a trickle of tears rolls down her face.

"She'd go to any length to get what she wants. And despises traitors."

[x] "There's no way she'd find you here."
[x] Change the subject
[x] Hug her
[x] Write in

That's it for me tonight, I'll be back on Monday at the same time, (7 PM EST). Feel free to vote or discuss, as always
>>
>>375852
>[x] Hug her
>>
>>375852
thanks for runing, this is sounding like itl turn out good,
>>
>>375852
>>[x] Hug her
Pretty interesting so far OP.
>>
>>375852
>[x] Hug her
See you on Monday.
>>
>>375852
>[x] "There's no way she'd find you here."
>[x] "You're safe here."
>[x] Hug her
>>
>>375852
>[x] "There's no way she'd find you here."
>[x] Change the subject
>>
>>375852
>[x] Hug her
>[x] "Don't worry about her. You've got allies now. We're all fighting so that you, and everyone else out there, will never have to go through any of that again."
>>
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>>375859
>>375874
>>375878
>>375910
>>376073

You heard rumors about this ‘Dracula’, that her lust for power exceeds even Hitler’s. That she singlehandedly turned the tide of the Second Battle of Britain in favor of the Nazis. That she drains fresh blood from the necks of her own troops to heal her wounds. But those are just rumors absurd, stupid, baseless rumors. There’s no way someone, even a magical girl, could do any of that. Right?

Maybe Erika’s just afraid, she’s still recovering from torture after all. Sure, Dracula might hate traitors but would she really spend the time, effort, and manpower to recapture Erika? Magical girls are a dime a dozen in the Hexenkraft what’s the loss of a single one to her? And besides, few people know about the existence of this base, even among Allied strategic command. The island Camp Eisenhower is built on isn’t even included on maps. Dracula would have to comb the Mediterranean for days. You give the defector the warmest smile you can muster, confident in her safety.

“Hey, there’s no way she’d find you here. And if she does, she’ll have to get through me if she wants to get to you. I’m not worried about her, and you shouldn’t be either.”

A part of you regrets saying this. If even half the stories about Dracula are true, then you’re sure that you’d hardly be a speedbump in her way. But she doesn’t need to know that, especially not now. Your impromptu pep talk seems to be having a positive effect on Erika’s morale, at least it sounds like it.

“You Americans, always so sure of yourselves.”

You giggle, and pull her into a tight hug. She’s slow to return the gesture, but does so grudgingly. You notices that her forearms lack the warmth of flesh and blood limbs. It feels like you’re being hugged by someone with steel bars for arms. She lets go of you hastily, probably hoping that you didn’t notice that.

“I’d rather be overconfident than underconfident!”

You on the other hand, don’t release Erika so easily. Who knew Krauts could be so warm and comfy. You lean against her, and whisper into her ear.

“Don’t forget, every single person here from the grunts to girls like me are fighting for you, and everyone like you. We’ll beat Hitler and his goons someday soon, they’ll never be able to hurt people ever again. Count on it.”

You finally let go of Erika, hoping that you’ve lifted her spirits, even if just a little. She seems to have stopped crying, which is an improvement. For the first time since you met her, Erika doesn’t seem frail and helpless. Her eyes are filled with purpose.

“I look forward to that day. And I’ll help you in any way I can.”

[x] “Don’t hesitate to ask for me if you need anything.” It’s getting pretty late, and you should probably head back to the dorms.
[x] “Sooooo, how are your arms healing?”
[x] Leave, wander around the base some more.
[x] Write in
>>
>>385008
> [x] Leave, wander around the base some more.
>>
>>385008
[x] “Don’t hesitate to ask for me if you need anything.” It’s getting pretty late, and you should probably head back to the dorms.
>>
>>385008
>[x] Leave, wander around the base some more.
>>
>>385008
>[x] “Don’t hesitate to ask for me if you need anything.” It’s getting pretty late, and you should probably head back to the dorms.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>385186
I meant I would roll, but forgot my roll like an idiot
1 is >>385077 >>385120
2 is >>385038 >>385120
>>
You give Erika one last grin before deciding to leave the medical wing. The night air is cool against your skin, making you sigh in pleasure. The soft light of the moon illuminating the base make for a peaceful sight. You haven’t been able to spend much time on base during your time in Europe, thanks to your near constant deployments across the European continent. Nobody said being a magical girl would be easy.

Not too many people are still awake at this hour, aside from the sentries and anti aircraft gunners who remain vigilant. You don’t envy them one bit.

You find yourself at the training range, to your surprise, there are a still a few soldiers here. One of them’s wearing the fatigues of a US Marine, firing and reloading his Springfield with mechanical precision. The other soldier at the range catches your eye; and not in a good way. He’s wearing the helmet more commonly found on the heads of Nazi soldiers, and his greatcoat is remarkably similar to theirs’ as well. The back of his jacket is emblazoned with a large FK. His weapon is also rather bizarre. It looks like a STG-44 wrapped in tape, and held together with rags.

Another sound catches your attention, this one originating from the gym. It sounds like someone’s going to town on a poor punching bag.

[x] Talk to the soldier with the strange fatigues.
[x] Check out the gym, maybe whoever’s in there wants a sparring partner
[x] Write in
>>
>>385267
>[x] Talk to the soldier with the strange fatigues.

Is it loot?
>>
>>385267
>[x] Check out the gym, maybe whoever’s in there wants a sparring partner
>>
>>385267
[x] Talk to the soldier with the strange fatigues.
>>
>>385289
>>385301
You hover over the German looking soldier, watching as he blasts a target idly. The rifle makes a rattling, unhealthy sound as it fires round after round. The poor thing looks like it could fall apart at any moment now. He doesn’t seem to notice you, or care that you’re watching him. The two of you remain in silence for a good five minutes, until he decides to finally acknowledge you. His face is wrapped in a scarf, you can spot the same FK logo adorning the side of his helmet; he stands up, towering over you. The soldier’s face is filled with scars and pockmarked with former injuries. He speaks in a rather heavy German accent, which doesn’t improve your first impression of him.

“Can I help you fraulein?” He pulls a roll of tape out of a pocket of his jacket, wrapping it liberally around the rifle, and doesn’t seem too interested in talking.

“Uhm.”

[x] “Who are you?”
[x] “I like your gun. And your clothing. Where’d you find them?”
[x] “Are you a Nazi?”
[x] Write in
>>
>>385387
>[x] “I like your gun. And your clothing. Where’d you find them?”
>>
>>385387
>I like your gun...
>>
>>385387
[x] “I like your gun. And your clothing. Where’d you find them?”
>>
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>>385398
>>385407
>>385419
You watch as the soldier keeps wrapping the rifle up in the sticky material. He shoulders it, seeming to examine the sights of the rifle, before slinging it over his back.

“I like your gun. And your clothing. Where’d you find them?”


The soldier shrugs, and coughs into his scarf. He pulls out a carton of cigarettes, drawing one out and lighting it. You can spy even more scars along the man’s mouth as he pulls his scarf down to smoke.

“Was issued ‘em, except for the helmet, took that off some dead soldier. Wasn’t doing anyone any good on a dead person’s head. Figured it’d help me more than him. As for the rifle, there aren’t many people who know how to fix a gun like this outside Germany, so I make do.”

“So you’re not a Nazi.”

He chuckles, coughing in between his laughs.

“Nein fraulein, I left Germany way before that happened. In fact, you Americans pay me and my friends to kill Nazis wherever they show their faces. I believe you call us, mercenaries, ja? Ever heard of the Freikorps? Interested in signing up?”

He chuckles again, before blowing a puff of smoke out of his mouth. He ruffles your hair, and chuckles once more before he leaves the range. Hey, though you might look like it, you’re no child anymore.

You yawn as the night drags on to further into tomorrow. You can still hear the pounding of fists against punching bag. Whoever’s in there is pretty diligent. You doubt that you’d be much of a sparring partner while being this tired, but you’re sure that it couldn’t hurt to take a peek inside.

[x] Tired...
[x] Check out the lunatic who’s still practicing at this hour
[x] Write in
>>
>>385571
>[x] Check out the lunatic who’s still practicing at this hour
I am guessing that this is Josie. She seems the punching bag therapy type of person. Based on brief appearances.
>>
>>385571
>[x] Check out the lunatic who’s still practicing at this hour
>>
>>385571
>Check out the lunatic...
>>
>>385571
>[x] Check out the lunatic who’s still practicing at this hour
>>
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>>385582
>>385586
>>385588
>>385597

The sounds of punches and the odd kick fill the empty gym. You spot the source of the sounds, Josie, Magical Girl Uppercut. She’s replaced her colorful, gaudy scarf with a towel that’s slowly being soaked with sweat. You watch as she sends jabs and crosses into the bag, ducking and bobbing and weaving to avoid imaginary strikes. It looks like some intricate dance, as she effortlessly weaves her punches, kicks, and dodges into a single performance. She closes with the bag, delivering a few devastating uppercuts into her victim. It sends the bag flying off it’s supports, skidding along the floor as it comes to a stop at wall. She sighs as she stares at the fallen bag.

“Dang it, gotta stop doing that...if only they made ‘em stronger-oh!”

She’s in the middle of drinking from a water bottle before she spots you, and waves energetically. How the hell does she still have so much energy at this hour. She runs at you, a wide smile on her face.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before! Name’s Josie Jonas, maybe you know me as the Boston Bruiser. I’m pretty famous in America, you know.” She smiles smugly at you. She stretches her arms upwards.

“What’s got you up so early at night, anyways? Lookin’ for some practice too?”

[x] Nope, never heard of you.
[x] THE Boston Bruiser? I have a poster of you in my room back at home! I can't believe it's really you!
[x] The Boston Brusier? Oh, um, yeah I've totally heard of you.
[x] Write in
>>
>>385654
>[x] Nope, never heard of you.
Too busy getting deployed across Europe.
>>
>>385654
>[x] The Boston Brusier? Oh, um, yeah I've totally heard of you.
We don't really follow boxing
>>
>>385654
>[x] The Boston Brusier? Oh, um, yeah I've totally heard of you.
Lets see where this leads...
>>
>>385654
> Nope, never heard of you.
>>
>>385671
>>385674
>>385720
>>385727
You shrug at her, you never had much time to follow boxing, or any sports in general. Being constantly sent across the continent on missions of all types doesn't leave you with much time to keep up with sports. You hardly know who Babe Ruth is, much to the chagrin of many American soldiers.

"The Boston Bruiser? Oh, um, yeah I've totally heard of you."

Josie's eyes light up as you say that. Like a child who was just praised by a parent.

"Really? What did you think of my fight against Joe Louis? It was my first official fight, and broadcast across the country through the radio! What'd you think of my technique? Pretty slick, right?"

You have no idea who that is and what she's talking about.

"Nope, never actually heard of you. Sorry."

Josie visibly deflates as you say this. But she doesn't let that keep her spirits down for too long.

"Well, I'll just have to make sure that you know my name before you leave then! Josie Jonas, don'tchu forget it! Seeya!" She winks at you, before leaving the gym.

What an odd girl.

You can't stay up for much longer now, and decide to head back to the barracks. You stumble your way back to your room. Room G18. To your surprise met by the sleeping form of Epeiste. A note is posted on the door.

"Athena, Josie, please sleep as early as possible. Command wants us up early tomorrow. - Diane"

You wince as you read Athena. You never liked that name. Victoria Jones rolled off the tongue much nicer anyways.

[x] Wake up Epeiste, see if she's in a talkative mood
[x] Just go to sleep
[x] Wait up for Josie, talk to her some more.
[x] Write in
>>
>>385787
>[x] Just go to sleep

Fuckin early wake ups
>>
>>385787
>[x] Just go to sleep
>>
>>385787
>
Climb in with Epeiste, big spoon.
>>
>>385828
Seconding
>>
>>385787
>Just go to sleep
>>
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>>385810
>>385817
>>385828
>>385838
>>385874
If there’s one thing that you hate more than being called by your real name, it’s having to wake up early. Dad always made you wake up at seven in the morning, even on weekends. Something about having a routine improving how you lived. But, if your superiors are making you wake up early, then they must have a good reason You sigh and proceed to wash up, the warm water streaming over your body is extrodinarily theurepedic, especially after a long day of escaping Nazi occupied France. You return to your room and collapse onto a bed, too tired to care about whose bed it was or if it was occupied. You cuddle up to something silky soft, and smelling strongly of some exotic perfume. It almost makes you leave the bed, but that means leaving whatever you’re cuddling too. You hear Diane giggle as you hold her, she’s probably dreaming of something or other.

“Oh mon dieu, so forward!”

That’s a bit weird. Your image of what’s she’s dreaming of is a bit clearer. But you can’t muster the strength to leave her warmth. You sigh contentedly as you finally drift off into a well deserved sleep.

“EEEK!”

A pillow smacks into your face, several times. You grope around blindly in an attempt to stop the assault on your face, to no avail. You finally bolt awake, to see a disheveled Diane, holding a pillow defensively. Josie’s still sleeping, half of her body is dangling precariously from her bed.

“Wh-wh-what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

[x] “Well, I WAS sleeping.”
[x] “Uh, cuddling? Do they not do that in France?”
[x] “Whoops.”
[x] Write in
>>
>>385921
>[x] “Uh, cuddling? Do they not do that in France?”
>>
>>385921
>[x] “Whoops
>[x] “Well, I WAS sleeping.”
>>
>>385921
>[x] “Well, I WAS sleeping.”
>>
>>385944
>>385965
>>385967
"Well, I WAS sleeping before I was so rudely awakened by you."

Diane's quick to retort, she's still holding that pillow as if it'll shield her from whatever you have to say in reply.

"I wouldn't had to have done that if YOU didn't decide to climb into bed with me and hold me, you brute! You didn't do anything strange to me when I was sleeping, right?!"

Now she's done it. You consider your answer to that. You could bully her, but you're not sure how she'd react to it.

[x] "Well, you seemed to enjoy last night, so I don't see why you're so upset about it.
[x] "It was just cuddling, I was really tired. You understand, right?"
[x] Write in
>>
>>386045
>[x] "It was just cuddling, I was really tired. You understand, right?"
As much as I want to prod about 'last night' I'd rather not completely alienate a coworker
>>
>>386045
>[x] Write in
Deny all responsibility.
>>
Gonna take one more vote before calling it and writing
>>
>>386045
>[x] "It was just cuddling, I was really tired. You understand, right?"
>>
Diane glares at you harshly, as if she was trying to punch a hole through you with her mind. You give her a nervous chuckle in response. And decided against saying anything that might make her think less of you. No need to make a bad situation worse. You rise from the bed, and rub the sleep from your eyes before offering your explanation.

“Look, Diane, I was really tired. I just got back from France where I had to lug a barely alive defector around the city of Marseilles. I could hardly keep my eyes open by the end of the day. Surely you’ve been in my shoes before, right?”

Diane turns her nose up at you. It might have had its intended effect if you didn’t have to look down at her.

“Hmph, yes I understand, you were sloppy and paid the price for it. So it goes. I’ll let it slip, just this once.”

Your shoulders sag as the tension bleeds out of you. Until you’re shocked by the sound of Josie rolling off her bed and falling flat on her back. Diane plants her face in her palm, muttering something in French. Josie, on the other hand, takes her little tumble in stride.

“Sooo, exciting news today, I heard. Something about going to the Middle East! But first, let’s get some chow before he get briefed!”

“This is the fifth briefing you’ve been late to, I don’t know how many more they’ll let you get away with.”

The muscular girl pouts, obviously upset by the prospect of not being able to eat her breakfast.

“But I can’t concentrate on a empty stomach.”

“You can’t concentrate on a full one either!”

Jeez, even your parents didn’t argue this much.

[x] Go with Josie for breakfast, you’re hungry too
[x] Go with Diane and go straight to briefing
[x] Write in
>>
>>386174
[x] Go with Diane and go straight to briefing
>>
>>386174
>[x] Go with Josie for breakfast, you’re hungry too
>>
Need another vote, and then I'm calling it
>>
>>386174
>[x] Go with Diane and go straight to briefing
I guess we should find out the mission first. But we definitely need to eat something later.
>>
>>386174
Wait, it's already morning? I thought it was just minutes after Victoria goes to sleep
>>
>>386314
Yeah, I should have made that more apparent

>>386180
>>386307
'Well fine, just don't come crying to me when they cut your leave time or something. Let's go Athena." Your eye twitches as she says your name.

You follow Diane to the administrative building. It's still dark out, the sun peeks slightly into the horizon. Diane is as cold as ever, but you decide to try and break the ice as you make your way to the building

"Know anything about the mission?"

"Not any more than Josie does. What I do know is that we should dress lightly while over in the Mideast. Hopefully Command has more answers for us."

The admin building is aflame with activity, in contrast to the last time you visited. Officers and analysts and other assorted personnel shout at each other, tossing documents and files haphazardly to each other.

You make your way through this morass of chaos to the Bureau's room. It's as still and quiet as a grave. The Handler seems to be speaking for someone before he turns his attention to you. Diane stands ramrod straight, more like a statue rather than a person.

"We have received troubling news. The Afrika Korps has just launched a massive invasion into Mesopotamia, three hours ago. All local forces have been crushed."

This sounds like a job for ordinary soldiers, rather than the likes of you.

"We have also received reports of Hexenkraft activity in the region. Including unconfirmed sightings of the Hexenkraft officer known as 'Dracula'. We assume that the primary objective of the Hexenkraft is to reach the ruins of Babylon, and to unlock their secrets. Another possible objective for the Hexenkraft is the retrieval of the 'Spear of Destiny'. The success of the Hexenkraft here be devastating for the Allies. You are to prevent that from occurring."

Well, that sounds more like a job for you.

"This is a task you should not take lightly. I have contacted SMERSH and requested their aid in this matter. Soviet magical girls are already en route. Contracted Freikorps units will also be available to assist you."

Josie barges into the room, a piece of toast hanging out of her mouth. She still manages to give the room a cheeky smile regardless.

"Please, if you have any questions regarding this operation, ask them."

[x] Write in
>>
>>386403
How many operatives from the beureau will be joining us on this mission?

Do we know the exact location of the spear? And what is it alleged to do?

Where exactly will we be first deployed?

What should happen if we come across 'Dracula'?
>>
>>386403
Are the headcounts for Soviet and Freikorp reinforcements known?
>>
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>>386403
What is the Spear of Destiny? What do we know about it?

>A world where Rommel succeeded against the British
>>
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>>386433
A junior officer taps the Handler on the shoulder, before handing him the biggest stack of papers you've ever seen in your life. He accepts the stack, and hardly seems fazed by it.

"Unfortunately, a majority of our magical girl operatives are currently occupied with other operations. Believe me, I would have deployed all of you if I could. The only ones we could spare are you three. And Panzer."

He flips through the pages of his new documents as he speaks.

"The Spear of Destiny has gone by many names. Some know it as the Lance of Longinus. Others call it the Holy Spear, or some other variation of this name. But, from what we have managed to uncover from ancient records it is a weapon of great power. Legend has it that it sealed the magical capabilities of those it cut. Permanently, if the wound was deep enough. Which is why the ancient Babylonians were so loathe to use against
each other."

The Handler steeples his fingers in thought. You haven't seen him this worried in, well, ever.

"SMERSH has been unusually obstructive in our negotiations with them. They have confirmed that at least one magical girl will be deployed, along with a contingent of powered armor Spetsnaz. As for the Freikorps, they have devoted one battalion sized unit to this operation. Their leader, Otto von Stein will also be accompanying you."

"As for Dracula, I advise that you engage with extreme discretion. Perhaps with overwhelming numbers or firepower. Both of which will be difficult to achieve."

"You will be deployed into Egypt at first. An archeologist specializing in Babylonian studies will accompany you on this operations."

The Handler finally takes a breath, and releases it slowly.

"If that will be all, then a transport aircraft will be awaiting you at the airstrip"

And that'll be it for me for tonight! I'll be back a bit earlier than normal, at 6 PM EST
>>
>>386527
See you. Thanks for running
>>
Aas also going to ask if a new thread was in order since this one appears to be autosaging
>>
>>386541
Yeah, new thread sounds like a good idea
>>
>>386527
Well, I for one wonder what Panzer's(Erika I assume) powers would be. Guess we get a long range presence to fit in with our scrappy brawlers on the front that we have.

And assuming its Erika the lack of hands is kind of big and I wonder what the workaround will be.

>>386541
New thread is fine. Go ahead.
>>
>>386564
Before QM decided to reboot the thread, Erika's dossier said she could telekinetically operate an entire tank by herself, all loading done automatically and with skill better than any tank crew.

Not sure if she needs her hands for it, or if this power extends to other vehicles.

Also, I think it's implied she's a cyborg.
>You notices that her forearms lack the warmth of flesh and blood limbs. It feels like you’re being hugged by someone with steel bars for arms
>>
>>386573
I noticed that as well. Cyborg is likely, but it doesn't explain the bloody bandages where her hands were, unless it is oil that suspiciously looks like blood.
>>
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>>386593
It seems that she doesn't want to let anybody know she's a cyborg, so maybe the Nazis wanted to hide advanced cybernetics or something



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