- Location
- Wyoming
Let's see if I match or exceed Semi's Awareness. 
...and by golly I did!
d6 (1) + Strafing (+3) + SA (+4) = 8.
...and by golly I did!
d6 (1) + Strafing (+3) + SA (+4) = 8.
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The Thunder of Coins - [Warbirds-system OOC]
- Thread starter Simpli
- Start date
- Location
- Germany
Do you want a Critical Failure? ^^
- Location
- The Air Capital
...yes? *glares at dice to keep them in line*
- Location
- The Air Capital
Just adding a note here that I cashed in that Reserve point from the crit fail for the rocket to fall on something important, because nothing says Mavis like Achievements in Ignorance.
- Location
- Germany
@Dariusprime & @Vagabond422 - Can I get your first strafing- approach? Would you both go after the same airship if possible or split?
- Location
- Same place I've always been
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- Location
- Wyoming
@Vagabond422 A split sounds good to me. Zoom and Boom time!
Approach Strafing: d6 (3) + Strafing (+10) = 13.
Approach Strafing: d6 (3) + Strafing (+10) = 13.
- Location
- Germany
@Vagabond422 & @Dariusprime - Complete Surprise on Als end, successful strafing run on Darius End.
- Location
- The Air Capital
Feel free to skip over me while you two are blimp busting, to speed things up. Mavis has caused enough 🔥 for the time being.
- Location
- Wyoming
Haha! Smoke'em, Vagabond!
Opening up with the Reavers:
Gunnery: d6 (5) + Gunnery (7) = 12. DOOM.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but my interpretation is that we always roll a d6 for hit location. (At least against these small airships.)
Thus: Random target location d6 (2).
The lucky target is: Oh! The Bridge! The Bridge! Score!
Let's see here.
2. Bridge - Defence 6, Armour 4, Structure 3 (0 0 0)
Gunnery Total (12) - Defense (6) = Lead (6)
Damage: Lead (6) +HMG (2) = 8
Damage (8) - Armour (4) = Total Damage (4)!
Structure (3) - Damage (4) = -1.
What a beautiful shot.
Opening up with the Reavers:
Gunnery: d6 (5) + Gunnery (7) = 12. DOOM.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but my interpretation is that we always roll a d6 for hit location. (At least against these small airships.)
Thus: Random target location d6 (2).
The lucky target is: Oh! The Bridge! The Bridge! Score!
Let's see here.
2. Bridge - Defence 6, Armour 4, Structure 3 (0 0 0)
Gunnery Total (12) - Defense (6) = Lead (6)
Damage: Lead (6) +HMG (2) = 8
Damage (8) - Armour (4) = Total Damage (4)!
Structure (3) - Damage (4) = -1.
What a beautiful shot.
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- Location
- Same place I've always been
Here we go. Both weapons opening up:
Threshers (aimed at the bridge): 6+6 =12
-Heavy Machine Guns: Lead +2 AP 0
Woozies 2+4 = 6
-40mm Cannon Lead +4 AP 3
Threshers (aimed at the bridge): 6+6 =12
-Heavy Machine Guns: Lead +2 AP 0
Woozies 2+4 = 6
-40mm Cannon Lead +4 AP 3
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- Location
- Wyoming
- Location
- Germany
If there's a weakness in the Patrols curriculum, then that they are always focused on the most modern and thus seemingly most dangerous weapon systems at hand – the artillery pieces you are seeing are not the most modern, but not any less dangerous for it. Even from a distance you can see that the guns are set into turrets that are ill fit for them, as if someone had taken them from a larger ship and placed them into systems originally reserved for smaller calibres. While you can't identify the guns, most likely because they are as old as your uncles, while modern lessons focused on more common weaponry and the few rumours of advanced research coming from the Stratocracy, you can make some guesses in regards to the ships.
Even if large parts of them were torn out to make space for machine gun emplacements you can still see artful decoration along their flanks that might once have adorned steam valves and coal bunkers, an easy indication that these ships are at least as old as their guns, but were not originally put together. Thus you can take an educated guess that they were refit because of budget reasons and most likely have a smaller arsenal, are slower than comparable cruiser sized airships and were relying on the gunships you ambushed to pin down the Warborn for them.
- Location
- Same place I've always been
Bring it
- Location
- The Air Capital
Joust! Joust! Joust!
- Location
- The Air Capital
Forth Erolingas! Ride to ruin and the world's ending!
Gunnery: 6 (d6) + 4 (SA) + 2 (Gunnery Skill) + 1 (Accuracy) + 0 (Trait Bonus) = +13
Target: Enemy Flight Lead
Edit: I'll spend a Reserve to activate the special effect of Incendiary Shells:
Gunnery: 6 (d6) + 4 (SA) + 2 (Gunnery Skill) + 1 (Accuracy) + 0 (Trait Bonus) = +13
Target: Enemy Flight Lead
Edit: I'll spend a Reserve to activate the special effect of Incendiary Shells:
1-4: Obstruction Smoke - -1 to Dog-fighting/Threat
6: Serious Fire - They are on fire.
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- Location
- Wyoming
Sorry, forgot to post! Semi alerted me to your post, Simpli! I'm ready for some dogfighting.
Blast'em!: d6 (2) + SA (4) + Gunnery (2) +Accuracy (1) = 9.
Not bad, not bad. Fly me closer, I want to hit them with my gun!
Blast'em!: d6 (2) + SA (4) + Gunnery (2) +Accuracy (1) = 9.
Not bad, not bad. Fly me closer, I want to hit them with my gun!
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- Location
- Same place I've always been
Head to head
d6 (3) + SA (4) + Gunnery (2) +Accuracy (1) =10
d6 (3) + SA (4) + Gunnery (2) +Accuracy (1) =10
- Location
- The Air Capital
Flying back into the furball: d6 (3) + 4 (SA) + 3 (Piloting Skill) + 3 (Performance) + 1 (Trait Bonus) = +14
Feuer Frei!: d6 (3) + 4 (SA) + 2 (Gunnery Skill) + 1 (Accuracy) + 0 (Trait Bonus) = +10
Feuer Frei!: d6 (3) + 4 (SA) + 2 (Gunnery Skill) + 1 (Accuracy) + 0 (Trait Bonus) = +10
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- Location
- Wyoming
Once more!
Dogfighting: d6 (4) + SA (+4) + Piloting (+2) + Performance (+3) = 13
Gunnery: d6 (6) + SA (+4) + Gunnery (+2) + Accuracy (+1) = 13
Dogfighting: d6 (4) + SA (+4) + Piloting (+2) + Performance (+3) = 13
Gunnery: d6 (6) + SA (+4) + Gunnery (+2) + Accuracy (+1) = 13
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- Location
- Same place I've always been
Cleaning up...
Dogfighting: d6 (3) + SA (+4) + Piloting (+2) + Performance (+3) = 12
Gunnery: d6 (5) + SA (+4) + Gunnery (+2) + Accuracy (+1) = 12
Dogfighting: d6 (3) + SA (+4) + Piloting (+2) + Performance (+3) = 12
Gunnery: d6 (5) + SA (+4) + Gunnery (+2) + Accuracy (+1) = 12
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Songbird - An Origin Story~?
- Location
- The Air Capital
Have an omake about how Mavis got her callsign!
The Caged Bird Does Sing
...and that's how I won against Blade-Witch Rollins." The redhead said triumphantly to her audience much to the chagrin of the sword-mistress sitting across from her in the Warborne's officer's mess.
"It'd never work in a real fight. Who throws their pommel at somebody anyways?!" Rollins groused.
"Songbird, apparently." The acerbic drawl from Legatine-Witch Malik earned a few more titters aimed at the Gun-Witches sulking melee counterpart.
"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to ask about that. I thought DOP callsigns were supposed to be, well, a bit derogatory." the comms-witch queried Mavis.
Mavis waggled her hand in a so-so response. "Yes and no. There are two rules for DOP callsigns. One, you can't give yourself a callsign; that's just gauche. Two, the more you complain about a callsign the more likely it is to stick permanently. Typically you'll get multiple 'suggestions' from your training cohort or the instructors before enough people agree on it for it to be added officially to the rolls. Which is a damn shame, because there were some good ones before they settled on my current nom-de-guerre. I think I liked Diva and Vixen the best; those were much better than Pin-Up and Blueblood."
"So how did you wind up with Songbird then?" queried a curious brunette Witch that Mavis couldn't put a name to.
"Well, to be perfectly honest, it didn't even happen when I was on duty..."
"We're dead. So dead when Virago finds out. Why did I let you talk me into going..." Moaned a dark haired woman that was being helped down onto a bench by two other male cadets who were sporting matching black eyes and satisfied grins.
Mavis shook her head in amusement at her overdramatic comrade as she sashayed along the inside of the cell bars. "And people call me a drama queen. Chin up Adele, we didn't start anything. Self defense and all that."
Adele Rowcliffe glared at the redhead in annoyance, "the constables were called to break it up. Multiple vehicles wound up in the bay...including ours! We are in the klink, you...you...unconstant succubus!"
The two men guffawed both at the name and Mavis's pout. " That's hurtful, I've never been unconstant in my life. But I know you didn't mean it Hedge, that's the alcohol talking. Once we get you back to your bunk you'll sleep it off and this all will have been memorable misadventure to look back fondly on."
The woman lunged upward with an accusatory finger aimed at Mavis, her mouth opening to most likely direct more booze-fueled slander Mavis' way, before a bout of queasiness had her running to the head in the back corner of the drunk tank.
The noblewoman made her way over to her nauseated friend, rubbing Adele's back in small circles as the woman disgorged most of the contents of her stomach into the porcelain throne. "There, there, let it all out..."
"Never...guh...again," came out between ragged breaths from the woman who had received her callsign by getting stuck dangling upside down in her namesake during parachute training.
"You'll have to be specific there champ. Drinking to excess, partying into the wee hours of the morning, our current location, or getting hands-on with that blowhard sailor?"
"Oh Goddess, I forgot about him..."
"He's not going to forget about you, Hedge, not after how you manhandled him. Right boys?" Mavis asked the pair who were their escorts for the pub crawl through the Wharfside district.
The Brighton brothers, Ichabod and Axton, both wiry men from their family's profession as longshoremen sucked in a sympathetic hiss of pain in remembrance.
"That scream will probably haunt me for the rest of my days." Bracken admitted.
"It was more the whimper at the end, for me." Bricker said scowling.
Mavis waved off their discomfort, "and nothing of value was lost. C'mon, on your feet girl, we'll be out of here in no time once the white-hats are done checking everyone's story..."
"Wait. Wait. Wait." came a voice from a Gun-Witch listening in. "How'd did a bar fight even wind up with vehicles in the bay?"
"The group was leaving a place called the Siren's Rest; and well, we may not have parted on best of terms with the local color. They followed us onto the cross-bay ferry and certain words were exchanged. Also certain fists. Followed by certain items from the base motor pool. Incidentally, if you're ever on a boat and a fight breaks out, the anchor capstan is a great place to watch it play out from."
"I have so many more questions now." was the response from the witch who had posed the query.
Mavis grinned. "Well, you'll have to get used to disappointment for the time being...anyways, where was I...oh yes, a few of the merchant marines that we had tangled with got tossed in too. One of them was doing a bang up job of drunkenly massacring a shanty. I had nothing else to do, so I started singing along and one thing lead to another..."
Mavis clapped in rhythm with her singing as she danced around the cell. What had started with one drunken sailor had now turned into an impromptu jailhouse rock with even some of the constabulary humming underneath their breath or tapping their feet subconsciously to the beat. Performing a slow pirouette, mid-turn she faced the cell door and lyrics died on her tongue. Standing there was Virago in full resting bitch face along with another man possessing a great bushy beard. I barely noticed the rank tabs of a Captain of the New Boromih Maritime Service pinned to his sweaters' epaulets.
"Nico 'Virago' Harridan had it in for me since day one of joining the DOP pilot cadre, for whatever reason. Also, I should mention mention that I had exacerbated the situation because I made it my mission to ruin whatever creative punishments she devised for me." Mavis laughed at the memory.
"All I did was be cheerful and do whatever demeaning task she gave with no complaints. Not one single grumble. Eventually, she stopped trying because the other instructors started calling her out on it. Why pick on harmless little ol' Mavis Harper, especially when compared to cadets like Randall 'Maniac' Doyle. His callsign was well earned, seeing how he managed to almost burn down the men's bunkhouse trying to grill some purloined steaks from the o-club freezer." The redhead held her hands clasped to her chest in mock hurt, complete with innocent eyes and shyly shrinking in on herself. That lasted all of three seconds before the impish smile and bombastic demeanor came back full force.
"Heh. Anyways, Virago had to be thinking this was her lucky day. Knowing her, in her mind I was already guilty and she had every reason to throw the book at me hard enough to make it finally stick. Then the Captain that was with her spoke his piece." Mavis said as she continued the tale...
"You have a quite a talent there Cadet Harper. Now then, I've just spent the last half of an hour finding out why I had to be woken at 0300 because of my mens' appalling lack of common sense." The Captain stared at his subordinates whose faces had taken on a distinct pallor before turning to Virago.
"Ma'am, I would like to apologize for my men's behavior. They should have known better instead of needlessly escalating to the point your cadets had to fight back. Correspondingly, they will be punished and I have made the constabulary known that the Maritime Service will be taking the blame for this incident."
"It was brilliant, Virago looked like she had swallowed a main course of crow with a lemon juice chaser. I wish I had had a camera on me." Songbird mimed taking a picture as story unfolded.
"So, the Captain takes his men and leaves the four of us and Virago. Seeing as she can't officially reprimand us now, she has no really good options available to her. But this was not her first rodeo when it came to cadet shenanigans and creative punishments. She let everyone else out and ordered me to serve the maximum time they can hold you in the drunk tank, which is forty-eight hours due to my 'impaired decision-making causing a loss of face for the DOP..."
Mavis stared at Virago, her poker face in full force with an eyebrow quirk and hands crossed underneath her bust as her fellow cadets were escorted out of the holding cells.
Virago leaned in, holding the bars on either side of the redhead when the two of them were finally alone. "Enjoy your lonely cage, little songbird." Virago sneered at Mavis before turning and leaving.
"So that's where you name comes from?" Blade-Witch Rollins asked Mavis.
"That's where it started. You see, Virago had made the classic blunder of leaving a wounded Givrian to their own devices and not expecting retribution. Plus, it wasn't like the white-hats were going to let me rot in there." The redhead boldly claimed.
"Wounded?" mouthed a bemused Faridah to a fellow Witch as Mavis ignored the byplay from the peanut gallery.
"So I had a little over a day and half to plot my revenge, which was more than enough to rope some of the more sympathetic officers into helping a bit. When Virago came back along with a couple of base MP to 'escort' me back to base, the boys in white gave me enough forewarning that she walked in on me dancing about the cell while I was singing the song that I spent the whole time writing and choreographing."
Songbird stood up and maneuvered to an open area of the officer's mess before turning to face the witches. "It went like this..."
🎵 If I am a little bird next time I open up my eyes, I'm gonna have to learn how to spread my wings and fly and turn loose of all the things that try to keep me on the ground. I got no time to be afraid, so you're not gonna catch me lookin' down. I'm gonna shake my tail and spread my wings. I'm gonna catch that wind as it's rushing by. I'm gonna raise my voice and sing! 🎵
Mavis finished her impromptu performance for the witches, exaggeratedly bowing to the scattered applause.
"Thank you, thank you, you're all too kind." the redhead stated as she moved back to her seat, taking a deep sip from a glass of water.
"Anyways, I didn't get interrupted at all; only way I knew that Virago was about to blow her top was the eye twitch that started halfway during the song and dance routine. What finally put her over the edge were the DOP MPs doing what you all just did and clapping for me..."
"What the hell was that, Harper?!" Virago had demanded in full angry officer mode after unsuccessfully trying to glare down the unprofessional (in her eyes) MP's.
Mavis gave her so-called superior officer a confused look "Those were you orders Ma'am, were they not? 'Enjoy your lonely cage, little songbird?'" The confusion act the noblewoman was playing was dropped in favor of a smug, victorious smile of malicious compliance.
"Cheep cheep, Ma'am."
The redhead drank in the laughter from her audience, history repeating itself once more with an encore of the DOP MP's reaction. Both of the men had been helplessly unable to rein in their corpsing as they drove the fuming Virago and the woman soon to be christened with the callsign of Songbird all the way back to base.
The Caged Bird Does Sing
...and that's how I won against Blade-Witch Rollins." The redhead said triumphantly to her audience much to the chagrin of the sword-mistress sitting across from her in the Warborne's officer's mess.
"It'd never work in a real fight. Who throws their pommel at somebody anyways?!" Rollins groused.
"Songbird, apparently." The acerbic drawl from Legatine-Witch Malik earned a few more titters aimed at the Gun-Witches sulking melee counterpart.
"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to ask about that. I thought DOP callsigns were supposed to be, well, a bit derogatory." the comms-witch queried Mavis.
Mavis waggled her hand in a so-so response. "Yes and no. There are two rules for DOP callsigns. One, you can't give yourself a callsign; that's just gauche. Two, the more you complain about a callsign the more likely it is to stick permanently. Typically you'll get multiple 'suggestions' from your training cohort or the instructors before enough people agree on it for it to be added officially to the rolls. Which is a damn shame, because there were some good ones before they settled on my current nom-de-guerre. I think I liked Diva and Vixen the best; those were much better than Pin-Up and Blueblood."
"So how did you wind up with Songbird then?" queried a curious brunette Witch that Mavis couldn't put a name to.
"Well, to be perfectly honest, it didn't even happen when I was on duty..."
"We're dead. So dead when Virago finds out. Why did I let you talk me into going..." Moaned a dark haired woman that was being helped down onto a bench by two other male cadets who were sporting matching black eyes and satisfied grins.
Mavis shook her head in amusement at her overdramatic comrade as she sashayed along the inside of the cell bars. "And people call me a drama queen. Chin up Adele, we didn't start anything. Self defense and all that."
Adele Rowcliffe glared at the redhead in annoyance, "the constables were called to break it up. Multiple vehicles wound up in the bay...including ours! We are in the klink, you...you...unconstant succubus!"
The two men guffawed both at the name and Mavis's pout. " That's hurtful, I've never been unconstant in my life. But I know you didn't mean it Hedge, that's the alcohol talking. Once we get you back to your bunk you'll sleep it off and this all will have been memorable misadventure to look back fondly on."
The woman lunged upward with an accusatory finger aimed at Mavis, her mouth opening to most likely direct more booze-fueled slander Mavis' way, before a bout of queasiness had her running to the head in the back corner of the drunk tank.
The noblewoman made her way over to her nauseated friend, rubbing Adele's back in small circles as the woman disgorged most of the contents of her stomach into the porcelain throne. "There, there, let it all out..."
"Never...guh...again," came out between ragged breaths from the woman who had received her callsign by getting stuck dangling upside down in her namesake during parachute training.
"You'll have to be specific there champ. Drinking to excess, partying into the wee hours of the morning, our current location, or getting hands-on with that blowhard sailor?"
"Oh Goddess, I forgot about him..."
"He's not going to forget about you, Hedge, not after how you manhandled him. Right boys?" Mavis asked the pair who were their escorts for the pub crawl through the Wharfside district.
The Brighton brothers, Ichabod and Axton, both wiry men from their family's profession as longshoremen sucked in a sympathetic hiss of pain in remembrance.
"That scream will probably haunt me for the rest of my days." Bracken admitted.
"It was more the whimper at the end, for me." Bricker said scowling.
Mavis waved off their discomfort, "and nothing of value was lost. C'mon, on your feet girl, we'll be out of here in no time once the white-hats are done checking everyone's story..."
"Wait. Wait. Wait." came a voice from a Gun-Witch listening in. "How'd did a bar fight even wind up with vehicles in the bay?"
"The group was leaving a place called the Siren's Rest; and well, we may not have parted on best of terms with the local color. They followed us onto the cross-bay ferry and certain words were exchanged. Also certain fists. Followed by certain items from the base motor pool. Incidentally, if you're ever on a boat and a fight breaks out, the anchor capstan is a great place to watch it play out from."
"I have so many more questions now." was the response from the witch who had posed the query.
Mavis grinned. "Well, you'll have to get used to disappointment for the time being...anyways, where was I...oh yes, a few of the merchant marines that we had tangled with got tossed in too. One of them was doing a bang up job of drunkenly massacring a shanty. I had nothing else to do, so I started singing along and one thing lead to another..."
Mavis clapped in rhythm with her singing as she danced around the cell. What had started with one drunken sailor had now turned into an impromptu jailhouse rock with even some of the constabulary humming underneath their breath or tapping their feet subconsciously to the beat. Performing a slow pirouette, mid-turn she faced the cell door and lyrics died on her tongue. Standing there was Virago in full resting bitch face along with another man possessing a great bushy beard. I barely noticed the rank tabs of a Captain of the New Boromih Maritime Service pinned to his sweaters' epaulets.
"Nico 'Virago' Harridan had it in for me since day one of joining the DOP pilot cadre, for whatever reason. Also, I should mention mention that I had exacerbated the situation because I made it my mission to ruin whatever creative punishments she devised for me." Mavis laughed at the memory.
"All I did was be cheerful and do whatever demeaning task she gave with no complaints. Not one single grumble. Eventually, she stopped trying because the other instructors started calling her out on it. Why pick on harmless little ol' Mavis Harper, especially when compared to cadets like Randall 'Maniac' Doyle. His callsign was well earned, seeing how he managed to almost burn down the men's bunkhouse trying to grill some purloined steaks from the o-club freezer." The redhead held her hands clasped to her chest in mock hurt, complete with innocent eyes and shyly shrinking in on herself. That lasted all of three seconds before the impish smile and bombastic demeanor came back full force.
"Heh. Anyways, Virago had to be thinking this was her lucky day. Knowing her, in her mind I was already guilty and she had every reason to throw the book at me hard enough to make it finally stick. Then the Captain that was with her spoke his piece." Mavis said as she continued the tale...
"You have a quite a talent there Cadet Harper. Now then, I've just spent the last half of an hour finding out why I had to be woken at 0300 because of my mens' appalling lack of common sense." The Captain stared at his subordinates whose faces had taken on a distinct pallor before turning to Virago.
"Ma'am, I would like to apologize for my men's behavior. They should have known better instead of needlessly escalating to the point your cadets had to fight back. Correspondingly, they will be punished and I have made the constabulary known that the Maritime Service will be taking the blame for this incident."
"It was brilliant, Virago looked like she had swallowed a main course of crow with a lemon juice chaser. I wish I had had a camera on me." Songbird mimed taking a picture as story unfolded.
"So, the Captain takes his men and leaves the four of us and Virago. Seeing as she can't officially reprimand us now, she has no really good options available to her. But this was not her first rodeo when it came to cadet shenanigans and creative punishments. She let everyone else out and ordered me to serve the maximum time they can hold you in the drunk tank, which is forty-eight hours due to my 'impaired decision-making causing a loss of face for the DOP..."
Mavis stared at Virago, her poker face in full force with an eyebrow quirk and hands crossed underneath her bust as her fellow cadets were escorted out of the holding cells.
Virago leaned in, holding the bars on either side of the redhead when the two of them were finally alone. "Enjoy your lonely cage, little songbird." Virago sneered at Mavis before turning and leaving.
"So that's where you name comes from?" Blade-Witch Rollins asked Mavis.
"That's where it started. You see, Virago had made the classic blunder of leaving a wounded Givrian to their own devices and not expecting retribution. Plus, it wasn't like the white-hats were going to let me rot in there." The redhead boldly claimed.
"Wounded?" mouthed a bemused Faridah to a fellow Witch as Mavis ignored the byplay from the peanut gallery.
"So I had a little over a day and half to plot my revenge, which was more than enough to rope some of the more sympathetic officers into helping a bit. When Virago came back along with a couple of base MP to 'escort' me back to base, the boys in white gave me enough forewarning that she walked in on me dancing about the cell while I was singing the song that I spent the whole time writing and choreographing."
Songbird stood up and maneuvered to an open area of the officer's mess before turning to face the witches. "It went like this..."
🎵 If I am a little bird next time I open up my eyes, I'm gonna have to learn how to spread my wings and fly and turn loose of all the things that try to keep me on the ground. I got no time to be afraid, so you're not gonna catch me lookin' down. I'm gonna shake my tail and spread my wings. I'm gonna catch that wind as it's rushing by. I'm gonna raise my voice and sing! 🎵
Mavis finished her impromptu performance for the witches, exaggeratedly bowing to the scattered applause.
"Thank you, thank you, you're all too kind." the redhead stated as she moved back to her seat, taking a deep sip from a glass of water.
"Anyways, I didn't get interrupted at all; only way I knew that Virago was about to blow her top was the eye twitch that started halfway during the song and dance routine. What finally put her over the edge were the DOP MPs doing what you all just did and clapping for me..."
"What the hell was that, Harper?!" Virago had demanded in full angry officer mode after unsuccessfully trying to glare down the unprofessional (in her eyes) MP's.
Mavis gave her so-called superior officer a confused look "Those were you orders Ma'am, were they not? 'Enjoy your lonely cage, little songbird?'" The confusion act the noblewoman was playing was dropped in favor of a smug, victorious smile of malicious compliance.
"Cheep cheep, Ma'am."
The redhead drank in the laughter from her audience, history repeating itself once more with an encore of the DOP MP's reaction. Both of the men had been helplessly unable to rein in their corpsing as they drove the fuming Virago and the woman soon to be christened with the callsign of Songbird all the way back to base.
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- Location
- Germany
@Dariusprime @Vagabond422 @Semi-Autogyro - Could I please have a Situational Awareness Roll from all of you?