- Location
- In Space
So basically as we are now if we were to go pick a fight with even the weakest of dragons we are going to die?
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Magical Girl Quest - The Fire That Burns
- Thread starter Rukia
- Start date
- Original
So basically as we are now if we were to go pick a fight with even the weakest of dragons we are going to die?
Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
I think that's been established for a while now yes.
While thinking of ways to get stronger I had a thought. Since Gaia created us could we ask her if there are any skills or abilities that we have but don't know about since we never found them in our experiments? We do have at least one unknown ability (the sword thing from the scrants), and even if we aren't skilled enough to obtain it right now, just knowing about it in character would be nice.
A Wise Hermit
Well, Sometimes.
[X] Let him use your likeliness, it's just a harmless thing, right?
-[X] And ask Una if she wants in, too. Little sisters make everything better, right?
-[X] Ask him to change the design of his sketches by a tad, enough for us to be unrecognizable from his resulting character.
I believe that it would be better if we make sure that we can't be connected to the resulting character.
I don't want an innocent man to be interrogated either by a singular agent or a whole intelligence department, because he decided that we looked good to use in a magical girl story while our enemies are looking for magical girls. Even if the chances for them to discover a connection are low, given past quest history I'm hesitant to make such an assumption. The opposition has contacts everywhere, and even if we are invulnerable to any possible attacks, our non divine-like contacts and possible allies aren't.
Besides, Even if the consequences don't happen today, they might happen in the next couple of months.
-[X] And ask Una if she wants in, too. Little sisters make everything better, right?
-[X] Ask him to change the design of his sketches by a tad, enough for us to be unrecognizable from his resulting character.
I believe that it would be better if we make sure that we can't be connected to the resulting character.
I don't want an innocent man to be interrogated either by a singular agent or a whole intelligence department, because he decided that we looked good to use in a magical girl story while our enemies are looking for magical girls. Even if the chances for them to discover a connection are low, given past quest history I'm hesitant to make such an assumption. The opposition has contacts everywhere, and even if we are invulnerable to any possible attacks, our non divine-like contacts and possible allies aren't.
Besides, Even if the consequences don't happen today, they might happen in the next couple of months.
[X] Let him use your likeliness, it's just a harmless thing, right?
-[X] And ask Una if she wants in, too. Little sisters make everything better, right?
-[X] And ask Una if she wants in, too. Little sisters make everything better, right?
Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
I don't see why he would get in trouble for drawing a character that looks like us. I mean, we aren't exactly subtle. For all anyone will know, people will probably think he saw us on the news or something!
Musical Blue
Kaboom?
- Location
- A good song
[X] Let him use your likeliness, it's just a harmless thing, right?
-[X] And ask Una if she wants in, too. Little sisters make everything better, right?
-[X] And ask Una if she wants in, too. Little sisters make everything better, right?
- Location
- Where I need to be
You know, while I don't know the ultimate result of this or anything (if I did, I wouldn't be able to be speak here, obviously), at least 3 people mentioned using this as propaganda, and a one more mentioned it as good PR…
But you know, isn't that a weird thought?
Generally speaking a character described as such:
Is almost never a good guy.
and doesn't the vote's:
Sound an awful lot like:
"What could possibly go wrong?"
I mean, we already do have a lot of negative PR, since we are public enemy number 2 in some places right now.
The reaction on the boat and the fact that Gaia thinks of it as a viable vacation spot for us means that we are probably not seen as such in Japan quite yet.
Are we really sure we should be allowing ourselves to be cast into a probably villainous by the description of it role in an anime?
It isn't nearly as big of a stigma as being public enemy number 2 of course, but it would be enough to have more people assossiate us with a "villain" on first sight.
Which seems like a bad deal.
Also don't just read the vote but the sentence right before the vote:
Cerys thinks she should destroy it, but if you vote to allow it, it is because she thinks it is harmless. Very much not because she thinks it is a good idea, but that it can't harm her.
But… the thing is, I don't believe that it can't harm her. Cerys image is already greatly tarnished.
Already something that will need a lot of effort to even conceivably turn around.
Allowing that negativity to spread, even in the smallest of ways to a nation that it might not have spread to yet is naive.
Instead we should use this more neutral ground to make a better impression imo, which I definitely wouldn't leave in the hands of some random artist whose description of us sounds like a possible villain.
As such I do vote:
[X] No chances, make him destroy it.
But you know, isn't that a weird thought?
Generally speaking a character described as such:
Is almost never a good guy.
and doesn't the vote's:
Sound an awful lot like:
"What could possibly go wrong?"
I mean, we already do have a lot of negative PR, since we are public enemy number 2 in some places right now.
The reaction on the boat and the fact that Gaia thinks of it as a viable vacation spot for us means that we are probably not seen as such in Japan quite yet.
Are we really sure we should be allowing ourselves to be cast into a probably villainous by the description of it role in an anime?
It isn't nearly as big of a stigma as being public enemy number 2 of course, but it would be enough to have more people assossiate us with a "villain" on first sight.
Which seems like a bad deal.
Also don't just read the vote but the sentence right before the vote:
Cerys thinks she should destroy it, but if you vote to allow it, it is because she thinks it is harmless. Very much not because she thinks it is a good idea, but that it can't harm her.
But… the thing is, I don't believe that it can't harm her. Cerys image is already greatly tarnished.
Already something that will need a lot of effort to even conceivably turn around.
Allowing that negativity to spread, even in the smallest of ways to a nation that it might not have spread to yet is naive.
Instead we should use this more neutral ground to make a better impression imo, which I definitely wouldn't leave in the hands of some random artist whose description of us sounds like a possible villain.
As such I do vote:
[X] No chances, make him destroy it.
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Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
Really? 'Mysterious Side Character' is usually the sixth ranger or rival type, not villain.
Also if you're writing/planning, you don't usually refer to the villain as a 'character' because they're more than a character, they're a Villain. The distinction is important.
I mean... Obviously this guy isn't me, so my own personal ways of describing things don't necessarily apply, but still, I think you're being overly paranoid about this. Mostly because as I mentioned before, I think you have the tropes wrong.
- Location
- Where I need to be
When I'm writing and planning I certainly think of the villain as a character first, villain second.
And furthermore, you can't call a sixth ranger or rival a "Side Character". Because they are too integral to the story, either eventually joining the main cast of being important for contrast.
On the other hand, there is a difference between villain, and main villain.
You can have a villain be a side character, they just have to not be the main villain.
They could even have their own arc, and still be side characters because they are in support of the main villain and not be as important once their arc is done.
edit:
There are tones of examples of villainous side characters.
There are no examples of sixth rangers or rivals being side characters, because their importance by definition of their role invalidates them from being side characters.
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Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
Even if that's the case, wouldn't it be better to maybe ask if we're a villain or something?
Also: Villain side-characters aren't described as such because they usually only last an episode. villains exist to be defeated. If they aren't defeated, then they're either a main/major villain (which seems too important for him to have left out) or they have redeeming traits that make them less villainous on the whole.
Also I guess I mis-stated, sixth ranger type characters usually start as side characters and then graduate to main characters as the show goes on, usually in the second season or so.
Honestly though, getting screwed over by this takes a lot of Weasel Words on Rukia's part, and I don't think of him an an author prone to doing that sort of thing.
But like I said when I started, if you're that afraid, why not make it up as a vote where we ask if we're a villain or not? Then refuse if he says yes and allow it if he says no? The dude is terrified of us, so I really doubt he'd have the stones to lie to our face.
- Location
- Earth
Keep in mind that he already stated to think of a Magical Girl show.
Villain or not, it is unlikely that a female, teenaged character would remain an antagonist in such a show forever.
So while your criticism is somewhat valid, I would turn it around and say that it might also be a chance to make people think more about the fact everyone is a person below whatever face they show the world, seeing that the character based on Cerys is very likely to be redeemed (if villainous) and join the heroine cast in one way or another.
Villain or not, it is unlikely that a female, teenaged character would remain an antagonist in such a show forever.
So while your criticism is somewhat valid, I would turn it around and say that it might also be a chance to make people think more about the fact everyone is a person below whatever face they show the world, seeing that the character based on Cerys is very likely to be redeemed (if villainous) and join the heroine cast in one way or another.
Additionally, this is definitely her natural paranoia speaking. We know how she is.
INTERLUDE, THE FIRST
- Location
- England
Europe, Counter Force Front Lines, Annabelle Stance
"7-3, advance, stall them while 7-6 moves flanks." You receive an affirmative and add them to your list of 'letters I need to write'. Thank you for your service. Turning your eyes towards your next target, you pause when you feel the ground shake slightly under your feet, hiding a frown at the feeling. "All groups, pull back to defensive lines, enemy beast inbound." A chorus of confirmations call back, your monitor showing them falling back in clean order, throwing smoke to dissuade pursuit while an artillery barrage creeps behind them, taking up defensive positions wherever they can as the smoke settles.
"5-5, move to attack station, 5-6 begin your approach, 5-6-1 beware of enemy interceptors." Green lights appear across the display and you peer closely at the satellite view. Alright, what is it this time? Whenever you'd started making serious progress, the enemy was more than happy to throw all manner of horrific beasts at your front lines, taking the chance to regroup in the confusion. The view suddenly jolts, flickering and fuzzing as you hiss. Some sort of anti-technology or just passively blocks remote viewing? You tut, quickly moving through the command bunker and climbing the ladder at the back, peering out the binoculars mounted in a small pillbox. Primitive, but it works.
The ground shakes again, a massive shadow coming into view through the slowly fading smoke. Fuck.
You tear your radio from your uniform, taking a split second to calm your voice. "All ground units, enemy Titan inbound, initiate fallout measures." You don't stay on the channel, you don't want to hear their voices. "5-5, drop everything and rearm as fast as possible, 5-6, you are authorized to use W-22 shells, 5-6-1 be prepared to absorb shots for 5-6." Green lights all around. "Artillery division, halt all fire missions, load W-21 shells, then fire on co-ordiantes given." A rushed 'Yes ma'am' followed by the constant booming falling silent, shells being taken out of storage by people in environmental suits. What the fuck is this? They've never shown anything on this scale before.
The Titan advances in complete silence, bar the shaking each step causes. Probably a creation, golem or summon? You shake off your thoughts. They are going to be making a push with this. Sliding down the ladder, you reach for the secure lines, flicking it over to the command channel. "Local commanders, expect a push around Grid-857 to Grid-743, enemy Titan spotted."
You wait for a moment, an unfamiliar voice speaking up. "Grid-820 here, details on enemy Titan?" Nervous, must be a replacement for a dead commander, I'll miss Samuel.
"Not important, it's too slow to move that far, focus on the enemy push, they'll probably try to encircle this position while we are trapped in combat." An array of affirmatives and you step back, taking a private moment to sigh before turning around. "Everyone, pack up, we're falling back to the secondary bunker." People quickly set into motion, gathering up everything that is important as you enter the code to open the blast doors, designated APC's waiting for you.
We should be back here by evening. You strap in, an information officer and five radio operators piling in behind him, your ride taking off down it's pre-set route with a harsh jolt. Just another day on the front lines.
Europe, Counter Force Front Lines, 5-6, Adrian Scott
You grunt, frantically kicking the massive box magazine until it finally slots in place with a menacing click. Fucking finally. "LOADED!" Bastards said they fixed that. Stepping back, you press a button, another magazine of five 105 shells sliding along their track and stopping before reaching the autoloader. "READY!" That big fucker is visible through your window, and you are more than a mile in the sky. Fuuuck he's big.
Johnny gives you a thumbs up, voice barely audible over the sound of the engines. "FIRING!" His finger moves and the entire plane shudders, the breech flying backwards, empty shell dropping into it's designated zone. Further along your ride, you hear the 25 open up, the loader next to them slamming a fresh clip into the 40.
You watch the shell fall, impacting something above the things shoulders and immediately blinding you as the world turns white for a moment, the shockwave only barely nullified by the voodoo those weirdos had done to the frame. Fucking hell, why do I always look, fucking nuclear shells. The 105 thuds again and this time you look away from your window, lowering the tinted screen over it. Three seconds. The gun fires again, three seconds, again, three seconds, again. This time, the breech stops in it's open position and you immediately start the reload, the clip slotting into it without issue. "LOADED!" You start on your next magazine as you hear Johnny call out. "FIRING!"
Europe, Counter Force Front Lines, 7-3, Chris Stevens
The world shakes, blistering heat rushing over your foxhole. You just curl up tighter, eyes closed and half forgotten prayers dancing across your lips. The world keeps shaking, over and over and over. Is the world ending? You dare a peek, immediately screaming when a flash scorches your vision, your world turning white. Fuck fuck fuck.
The shaking diminishes slightly and you feel your radio vibrating, slowly lifting it to your ear. "7-3, all survivors are to engage the enemy rearguard." David's voice is rough, but it could have been the voice of an angel to you. A flick on your radio sends him the green light and you uncurl, peering over the edge of your crater towards the enemy lines. You flinch when another wave of heat rushes at your back, a quick glance back with your good eye showing that fucking thing still moving. Mother of Mary- You snap your eyes back towards the front, shapes quickly moving towards you from their line.
You lift your gun, setting it on the lip of your cover and grab your radio. "Hey, big boys, got something for ya." A ping comes back. "My position, twenty metres front, an entire enemy platoon." The radio is silent for a moment before a grizzled voice returns. "I hear you son, your coffin will be the shiniest fuckin one of the day." You laugh with him, dropping your radio and sighting your rifle with your good eye, smiling as you pull the trigger, tracing a line of bullets across the guy with shoulder bars, lips pulling even wider as they all stop to take cover. May god have mercy on your souls, for I have none.
You see a flash ahead, your good eye turning white as the shockwave tears you from your position, the world turning black as you find the other end of your crater.
Europe, Counter Force Back Lines, Annabelle Stance
Your lip aches as your teeth press, an audible sigh of relief sounding across the room as the Titan finally succumbs to a bunker buster. We've lost our forward operating base. Your phone silently vibrates in your pocket. And dad won't stop calling me. Shaking your head, you look to your second in command. "Alan, take command, I'm needed." He nods, giving you a neat salute as you step down a set of stairs, deeper into the bunker. Personnel carrying files, food and guns rush around you, stopping to salute if you catch any of their eyes. Do your job, don't stop for that. Ignoring your annoyance, you step into your 'office', an empty concrete room with a desk and a bed. Home sweet home.
Your phone vibrates again and you sigh, pulling the old flip phone out and finally answering dad's calls. "Can you not? I'm in the middle of an operation." He knows you are busy commanding your sector, but does he stop to think about it? Noooo, why would he?
His voice comes through, apologetic but happy. "I know dear, but I'm just so proud of you that I couldn't resist the urge to congratulate you on your victory today."
You resist the urge to sigh, barely. "Can you stop babying me? Please? I know what I'm doing, you raised me to do this my entire life." Your voice is professionally firm, absolutely, completely. Not pouty at all.
His warm chuckle soothes your frustrations a little, like it always does. It's not fair, how does he do that? "I know I know, but it's a father's duty to worry about their children you know?" You mumble something uncomplimentary, he ignores it. "Anyway, you won't be in command there for all that much longer." You sit up straight. "They have almost entirely pulled out of that front, the attack was a distraction so that they could put more pressure onto the Swiss lines." You let out a quiet sigh of relief, but he obviously hears it and chuckles again. "Don't worry dear, I would never dream of separating you from your men."
He hums for a moment. "Say, don't you think that your theatre would be a good starter for Bella? It's nice and calm most of the time, but there are moments of action, though they'll be lesser now."
"Umm, I would have said no before today, but if they've actually pulled most of their units out, then I guess it couldn't hurt." He starts speaking, but you cut him off. "But please, send a good second with her, you know how she gets."
A sigh. "I know that you don't always approve of her methods, but she has does excellently in all of her trials so far."
You scoff. "A trial is vastly different from real life, I don't think she understands that yet."
Dad is silent for a while. "Alright." You let out a quiet sigh of relief. "I'll make sure she takes Amelia with her." You hear his smile, it's audible in the way his beard moves. "It's good to know that you've patched up your relationship since you last met, you wouldn't have cared before."
A grimace forms on your face as you remember your last meeting. "No, we haven't, but..." You scratch your neck. "I don't want her to get hurt, even if she hates me."
He remains silent for a little longer than normal. "I wish the two of you could get along, but-" He speaks up before you can. "I don't think this is the time for this conversation, we can talk about it next week." You let your silence speak for you. "Alright then, see you soon Anna."
"Bye dad." The phone clicks and falls silent, the only sound being the muffled booming of artillery.
The silence is abruptly ended by your stomach, growling like a beast. Alright, maybe I should get something to eat. You stand up, stretching your shoulders and sliding the phone back into your pocket. It's been a day or so.
???, Stance House, Edward Stance
You carefully set down the phone, weathered fingers tenderly manoeuvring the flip phone into it's box. Annabelle had brought a matching pair on her fifth birthday, and had been using it for her entire life, you wouldn't dare even risking damage of such a gift from her.
Sitting back in your chair with a sigh, you scratch your chin, beard rustling in a satisfying manner. Why can't those two just get along? You were such a terrible father, unable to get your daughters to even speak to each other now. Shame pulls at your shoulders as you sign the transfer documents. Well, Bella will be thrilled in the least. The thought cheers you up a little. And Anna does still care about her sister, I'm sure that they'll reconcile sooner rather than later. Happier thoughts in mind, you start humming as you file the paper, taking a sip of gin and leaning back in your chair as you finish.
If only all problems were so simple. It was nice having a day off, you'd been at headquarters for the last two weeks, even you get tired of sleeping at your desk if you do it enough. Closing your eyes, you try to relax, shifting in your chair until you feel the weight on your old bones stop being so heavy. I'm thinking of work on my downtime. You chuff. Workaholic, me? Never. You smile as you catch a whiff of dinner. Cecile never did loose her touch, her cooking has only gotten better.
Relaxing as comfortably as you can, you eye a portrait of yourself, once again contemplating if having it said you had an ego or not.
It is a very nice painting, but would it count as egotism... Your musing is interrupted by a call from your wife. "Dinner's ready, and a surprise too~" You jump out of the chair, moving along as quickly as your old bones will take you. Ohohoho, I wonder what it is! You slide into the kitchen, smile widening when you catch sight of your eldest son.
"Elric my boy!" He greets your approach with a warm smile and a great big hug. "How are you doing? Getting along with your girlfriend?" You waggle your eyebrows and smile at his blush.
"Dad, I'm not twenty any more." You smile wider. "I'm fine, and we're going fine, she's had a lot of fun setting up the magical sections." He releases you and steps back, scratching his neck. Ah, that's where Anna gets it from. "You know what she's like with magical things."
You nod warmly, gently tugging him along towards the table, Cecile pottering around the kitchen happily. "Yes yes, I do, it's why I thought she was such a good fit." Your son nods. "But I don't care about that, how are you going?" You nudge his ribs with your elbow, cackling when he blushes.
"Dad, we're going steady, she doesn't want to get married yet." He looks a little sad, but you nod sagely.
"Don't worry m'boy, she loves you, she'll be the one to ask you when she's ready." He nods, still looking a little down. "Besides." You lean in. "Have you seen how she wears a ponytail? Just for you you'know." You laugh as he gently pushes you back, smiling himself. "Alright you old geezer, eye to yourself."
You wave him off as you sit down. "Oh no, there will never be a woman for me but your Mother." A throat clears from around the corner. "And it had best stay that way." You smile, finishing your end of your decades old routine. "Of course dear."
Your son clears his throat and sits up, you follow suit, seeing the more serious look on his face. "The rune factories are a revolutionary design, the automation is within our capability but integrating all of the magical elements is proving difficult." You nod. "Still, we should have at least one finished within two weeks and another a few days after." Tapping your chin for a second you nod, waving your hand in a 'go on' manner. "Magical R&D is going quickly thanks to a few Chinese refugees, they are more than happy to help us get set up. Output is still limited to a few specific runes and relics, but we expect to be able to start creating our own runic arrays and relics in a few days."
"The other sections?"
He sighs, shaking his head. "We've not had nearly as much luck, we just don't have the expertise needed to get things running, the new... Magical Girl isn't being all that co-operative. She doesn't want anything to do with us or the war."
You let out a long hum, scratching your chin. "I understand, see if you can't convince her, but don't get on her bad side." He nods. "But this is talk for later." You hear the oven ding. "Dinner is ready."
"7-3, advance, stall them while 7-6 moves flanks." You receive an affirmative and add them to your list of 'letters I need to write'. Thank you for your service. Turning your eyes towards your next target, you pause when you feel the ground shake slightly under your feet, hiding a frown at the feeling. "All groups, pull back to defensive lines, enemy beast inbound." A chorus of confirmations call back, your monitor showing them falling back in clean order, throwing smoke to dissuade pursuit while an artillery barrage creeps behind them, taking up defensive positions wherever they can as the smoke settles.
"5-5, move to attack station, 5-6 begin your approach, 5-6-1 beware of enemy interceptors." Green lights appear across the display and you peer closely at the satellite view. Alright, what is it this time? Whenever you'd started making serious progress, the enemy was more than happy to throw all manner of horrific beasts at your front lines, taking the chance to regroup in the confusion. The view suddenly jolts, flickering and fuzzing as you hiss. Some sort of anti-technology or just passively blocks remote viewing? You tut, quickly moving through the command bunker and climbing the ladder at the back, peering out the binoculars mounted in a small pillbox. Primitive, but it works.
The ground shakes again, a massive shadow coming into view through the slowly fading smoke. Fuck.
You tear your radio from your uniform, taking a split second to calm your voice. "All ground units, enemy Titan inbound, initiate fallout measures." You don't stay on the channel, you don't want to hear their voices. "5-5, drop everything and rearm as fast as possible, 5-6, you are authorized to use W-22 shells, 5-6-1 be prepared to absorb shots for 5-6." Green lights all around. "Artillery division, halt all fire missions, load W-21 shells, then fire on co-ordiantes given." A rushed 'Yes ma'am' followed by the constant booming falling silent, shells being taken out of storage by people in environmental suits. What the fuck is this? They've never shown anything on this scale before.
The Titan advances in complete silence, bar the shaking each step causes. Probably a creation, golem or summon? You shake off your thoughts. They are going to be making a push with this. Sliding down the ladder, you reach for the secure lines, flicking it over to the command channel. "Local commanders, expect a push around Grid-857 to Grid-743, enemy Titan spotted."
You wait for a moment, an unfamiliar voice speaking up. "Grid-820 here, details on enemy Titan?" Nervous, must be a replacement for a dead commander, I'll miss Samuel.
"Not important, it's too slow to move that far, focus on the enemy push, they'll probably try to encircle this position while we are trapped in combat." An array of affirmatives and you step back, taking a private moment to sigh before turning around. "Everyone, pack up, we're falling back to the secondary bunker." People quickly set into motion, gathering up everything that is important as you enter the code to open the blast doors, designated APC's waiting for you.
We should be back here by evening. You strap in, an information officer and five radio operators piling in behind him, your ride taking off down it's pre-set route with a harsh jolt. Just another day on the front lines.
Europe, Counter Force Front Lines, 5-6, Adrian Scott
You grunt, frantically kicking the massive box magazine until it finally slots in place with a menacing click. Fucking finally. "LOADED!" Bastards said they fixed that. Stepping back, you press a button, another magazine of five 105 shells sliding along their track and stopping before reaching the autoloader. "READY!" That big fucker is visible through your window, and you are more than a mile in the sky. Fuuuck he's big.
Johnny gives you a thumbs up, voice barely audible over the sound of the engines. "FIRING!" His finger moves and the entire plane shudders, the breech flying backwards, empty shell dropping into it's designated zone. Further along your ride, you hear the 25 open up, the loader next to them slamming a fresh clip into the 40.
You watch the shell fall, impacting something above the things shoulders and immediately blinding you as the world turns white for a moment, the shockwave only barely nullified by the voodoo those weirdos had done to the frame. Fucking hell, why do I always look, fucking nuclear shells. The 105 thuds again and this time you look away from your window, lowering the tinted screen over it. Three seconds. The gun fires again, three seconds, again, three seconds, again. This time, the breech stops in it's open position and you immediately start the reload, the clip slotting into it without issue. "LOADED!" You start on your next magazine as you hear Johnny call out. "FIRING!"
Europe, Counter Force Front Lines, 7-3, Chris Stevens
The world shakes, blistering heat rushing over your foxhole. You just curl up tighter, eyes closed and half forgotten prayers dancing across your lips. The world keeps shaking, over and over and over. Is the world ending? You dare a peek, immediately screaming when a flash scorches your vision, your world turning white. Fuck fuck fuck.
The shaking diminishes slightly and you feel your radio vibrating, slowly lifting it to your ear. "7-3, all survivors are to engage the enemy rearguard." David's voice is rough, but it could have been the voice of an angel to you. A flick on your radio sends him the green light and you uncurl, peering over the edge of your crater towards the enemy lines. You flinch when another wave of heat rushes at your back, a quick glance back with your good eye showing that fucking thing still moving. Mother of Mary- You snap your eyes back towards the front, shapes quickly moving towards you from their line.
You lift your gun, setting it on the lip of your cover and grab your radio. "Hey, big boys, got something for ya." A ping comes back. "My position, twenty metres front, an entire enemy platoon." The radio is silent for a moment before a grizzled voice returns. "I hear you son, your coffin will be the shiniest fuckin one of the day." You laugh with him, dropping your radio and sighting your rifle with your good eye, smiling as you pull the trigger, tracing a line of bullets across the guy with shoulder bars, lips pulling even wider as they all stop to take cover. May god have mercy on your souls, for I have none.
You see a flash ahead, your good eye turning white as the shockwave tears you from your position, the world turning black as you find the other end of your crater.
Europe, Counter Force Back Lines, Annabelle Stance
Your lip aches as your teeth press, an audible sigh of relief sounding across the room as the Titan finally succumbs to a bunker buster. We've lost our forward operating base. Your phone silently vibrates in your pocket. And dad won't stop calling me. Shaking your head, you look to your second in command. "Alan, take command, I'm needed." He nods, giving you a neat salute as you step down a set of stairs, deeper into the bunker. Personnel carrying files, food and guns rush around you, stopping to salute if you catch any of their eyes. Do your job, don't stop for that. Ignoring your annoyance, you step into your 'office', an empty concrete room with a desk and a bed. Home sweet home.
Your phone vibrates again and you sigh, pulling the old flip phone out and finally answering dad's calls. "Can you not? I'm in the middle of an operation." He knows you are busy commanding your sector, but does he stop to think about it? Noooo, why would he?
His voice comes through, apologetic but happy. "I know dear, but I'm just so proud of you that I couldn't resist the urge to congratulate you on your victory today."
You resist the urge to sigh, barely. "Can you stop babying me? Please? I know what I'm doing, you raised me to do this my entire life." Your voice is professionally firm, absolutely, completely. Not pouty at all.
His warm chuckle soothes your frustrations a little, like it always does. It's not fair, how does he do that? "I know I know, but it's a father's duty to worry about their children you know?" You mumble something uncomplimentary, he ignores it. "Anyway, you won't be in command there for all that much longer." You sit up straight. "They have almost entirely pulled out of that front, the attack was a distraction so that they could put more pressure onto the Swiss lines." You let out a quiet sigh of relief, but he obviously hears it and chuckles again. "Don't worry dear, I would never dream of separating you from your men."
He hums for a moment. "Say, don't you think that your theatre would be a good starter for Bella? It's nice and calm most of the time, but there are moments of action, though they'll be lesser now."
"Umm, I would have said no before today, but if they've actually pulled most of their units out, then I guess it couldn't hurt." He starts speaking, but you cut him off. "But please, send a good second with her, you know how she gets."
A sigh. "I know that you don't always approve of her methods, but she has does excellently in all of her trials so far."
You scoff. "A trial is vastly different from real life, I don't think she understands that yet."
Dad is silent for a while. "Alright." You let out a quiet sigh of relief. "I'll make sure she takes Amelia with her." You hear his smile, it's audible in the way his beard moves. "It's good to know that you've patched up your relationship since you last met, you wouldn't have cared before."
A grimace forms on your face as you remember your last meeting. "No, we haven't, but..." You scratch your neck. "I don't want her to get hurt, even if she hates me."
He remains silent for a little longer than normal. "I wish the two of you could get along, but-" He speaks up before you can. "I don't think this is the time for this conversation, we can talk about it next week." You let your silence speak for you. "Alright then, see you soon Anna."
"Bye dad." The phone clicks and falls silent, the only sound being the muffled booming of artillery.
The silence is abruptly ended by your stomach, growling like a beast. Alright, maybe I should get something to eat. You stand up, stretching your shoulders and sliding the phone back into your pocket. It's been a day or so.
???, Stance House, Edward Stance
You carefully set down the phone, weathered fingers tenderly manoeuvring the flip phone into it's box. Annabelle had brought a matching pair on her fifth birthday, and had been using it for her entire life, you wouldn't dare even risking damage of such a gift from her.
Sitting back in your chair with a sigh, you scratch your chin, beard rustling in a satisfying manner. Why can't those two just get along? You were such a terrible father, unable to get your daughters to even speak to each other now. Shame pulls at your shoulders as you sign the transfer documents. Well, Bella will be thrilled in the least. The thought cheers you up a little. And Anna does still care about her sister, I'm sure that they'll reconcile sooner rather than later. Happier thoughts in mind, you start humming as you file the paper, taking a sip of gin and leaning back in your chair as you finish.
If only all problems were so simple. It was nice having a day off, you'd been at headquarters for the last two weeks, even you get tired of sleeping at your desk if you do it enough. Closing your eyes, you try to relax, shifting in your chair until you feel the weight on your old bones stop being so heavy. I'm thinking of work on my downtime. You chuff. Workaholic, me? Never. You smile as you catch a whiff of dinner. Cecile never did loose her touch, her cooking has only gotten better.
Relaxing as comfortably as you can, you eye a portrait of yourself, once again contemplating if having it said you had an ego or not.
It is a very nice painting, but would it count as egotism... Your musing is interrupted by a call from your wife. "Dinner's ready, and a surprise too~" You jump out of the chair, moving along as quickly as your old bones will take you. Ohohoho, I wonder what it is! You slide into the kitchen, smile widening when you catch sight of your eldest son.
"Elric my boy!" He greets your approach with a warm smile and a great big hug. "How are you doing? Getting along with your girlfriend?" You waggle your eyebrows and smile at his blush.
"Dad, I'm not twenty any more." You smile wider. "I'm fine, and we're going fine, she's had a lot of fun setting up the magical sections." He releases you and steps back, scratching his neck. Ah, that's where Anna gets it from. "You know what she's like with magical things."
You nod warmly, gently tugging him along towards the table, Cecile pottering around the kitchen happily. "Yes yes, I do, it's why I thought she was such a good fit." Your son nods. "But I don't care about that, how are you going?" You nudge his ribs with your elbow, cackling when he blushes.
"Dad, we're going steady, she doesn't want to get married yet." He looks a little sad, but you nod sagely.
"Don't worry m'boy, she loves you, she'll be the one to ask you when she's ready." He nods, still looking a little down. "Besides." You lean in. "Have you seen how she wears a ponytail? Just for you you'know." You laugh as he gently pushes you back, smiling himself. "Alright you old geezer, eye to yourself."
You wave him off as you sit down. "Oh no, there will never be a woman for me but your Mother." A throat clears from around the corner. "And it had best stay that way." You smile, finishing your end of your decades old routine. "Of course dear."
Your son clears his throat and sits up, you follow suit, seeing the more serious look on his face. "The rune factories are a revolutionary design, the automation is within our capability but integrating all of the magical elements is proving difficult." You nod. "Still, we should have at least one finished within two weeks and another a few days after." Tapping your chin for a second you nod, waving your hand in a 'go on' manner. "Magical R&D is going quickly thanks to a few Chinese refugees, they are more than happy to help us get set up. Output is still limited to a few specific runes and relics, but we expect to be able to start creating our own runic arrays and relics in a few days."
"The other sections?"
He sighs, shaking his head. "We've not had nearly as much luck, we just don't have the expertise needed to get things running, the new... Magical Girl isn't being all that co-operative. She doesn't want anything to do with us or the war."
You let out a long hum, scratching your chin. "I understand, see if you can't convince her, but don't get on her bad side." He nods. "But this is talk for later." You hear the oven ding. "Dinner is ready."
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- Location
- Earth
The counter force has Haruhi. Karen might need to go digging into her bag of tricks.
Did you mean "confirmations"?
Damn, that thing looks like it might be able to punch a (continental) Divine Being in the face and have the damage stick!
has
- Location
- Earth
So Karen still has a hold on the military, her PR campaign seems to have worked. As expected really.
That sounds like Karen will have a hard time of it once two weeks pass.
And mass produced magic weapons is something Mother will nudge things around to make sure they won't get sabotaged.
I wonder if Karen is staying on the defensive since she already know the board stokes of Gaia's plan with the war and waiting for the portal to open and her current moves is war testing out new weapons.
I mean she's pretty much developing magical and non-magical weapons with her group on war footing.
I mean she's pretty much developing magical and non-magical weapons with her group on war footing.
A Wise Hermit
Well, Sometimes.
I doubt it. Without an offensive, they can't get counter force to stop landing, and besides that, they would need to clear out the beach-heads and FOBs and the likes. In the simplest scenario, all they would have to do is to push them out of Europe and form a defensive formation around it. Counter Force will most certainly try to break those lines, but at the very least the absence of those forward bases will stagnate the invasion for a while. That is if you leave out the air force, but with both sides having similar air power, that can go anywhere. The hard part though, is getting them out of Europe in the first place.
- Location
- Sweden
What do you mean staying on the defensive? The Clocktower are still making pushes, the attack shown here was a distraction so they could increase their offensive elsewhere.
My bad I forgot the fighting is in Europe, I mean if they are out then a stalemate can develop which would put the war on a lull. Hoping Cerys can destroy counterforce's successes once she's back from break.
Would be nice to know which countries on each side.
- Location
- England
Red = Counter Force
Blue = Clocktower
Don't ask about China, no-one really knows.