[X] You are a tank. Tank in the air, tank on the ground, no problem against the things they use as infantry. So attack without doubt or fear. The night belongs to you.
-[X] If Fabian had tanks, what would he do? Fabian tactics but with tanks. Or you. So, just you doing some guerrilla works.
[X] You are a tank. Tank in the air, tank on the ground, no problem against the things they use as infantry. So attack without doubt or fear. The night belongs to you.
-[X] If Fabian had tanks, what would he do? Fabian tactics but with tanks. Or you. So, just you doing some guerrilla works.
[X] You are a tank. Tank in the air, tank on the ground, no problem against the things they use as infantry. So attack without doubt or fear. The night belongs to you.
-[X] If Fabian had tanks, what would he do? Fabian tactics but with tanks. Or you. So, just you doing some guerrilla works.
[X] You are a tank. Tank in the air, tank on the ground, no problem against the things they use as infantry. So attack without doubt or fear. The night belongs to you.
-[X] If Fabian had tanks, what would he do? Fabian tactics but with tanks. Or you. So, just you doing some guerrilla works.
[X] You are a tank. Tank in the air, tank on the ground, no problem against the things they use as infantry. So attack without doubt or fear. The night belongs to you.
-[X] If Fabian had tanks, what would he do? Fabian tactics but with tanks. Or you. So, just you doing some guerrilla works.
---
Night Fight, one of the hardest things to do without future tech, -3. But when successful..., only 3 success to make a critical success. War+Wits: 3d10: (9 +8 +9) Who looking? You are.
Stealthy stealth, at night, +2. Dex+Stealth: (2 +8 +7 +9 +7 +10 +5) 1d10: 6. 5 success = Critical.
Fun times. Fire+Dec 7d10: (10 +9 +7 +7 +5 +1 +8) 1d1-: 2. 5 = Crit. AKA you killed everything here.
Next, LMG to engage short-medium range targets! -2 for range and night. 5d10: (7 +8 +6 +10 +10) 2d10: (9 +6). Critical.
So finale. -4. 3d10: (8 +9 +10) 1d10: 3. And time to fuck off... maybe?
1d10: 10. 1d10: 3. Okay, one more barrage and time to go.
Allied Forces unite; First Special Service Force, OSS Regiment, and Canadians. 4d10: (7 +2 +8 +9)
Entrapped people. 1d10: 1. Pitiful.
After nicking a ride and some available war materiel...
Three kilometers out from the western side of Dunkirk...
You tiptoe a light step at a time through the nearly pitch black fields on way to a very dim blue shimmer yonder, one of which you long remember from an occurrence earlier this year. The very same that let you to meet with some unique girls. Unlike that time, you are alone here without a single person standing besides you, without support, away from home. Not like you give a fuck. One step at a time, your eyes watching and sweeping where the enemy might be, your ears listening for any abberations aside from your feet pressing lightly on the grass, dirt, or gravel, whichever comes beneath your boots.
You spot patrols wandering but they're too far away to be of real threats to your encroachment, nay, liberation of the native people from these invasive creatures. Traps, you found none on the way. Sentries, bah, not one is up in your section. It's why you picked it to walk across in the first place. Three steps more, you're on top a tiny furrow big enough to contain five sleeping headless man figures on the ground and a dimly glowing blue pole. Their positions on the ground look too familiar as the fetal position.
You're give one more scan of the area for sleeping or waking Abyss before you ready the Bren light machine gun awkwardly for an upright firing rather than say using an elevated rock for use with the bipod besides you. Then you remember that you have some sound suppressed pistols at your disposal. Even for a moment of staying in stealth can make a difference prior to roaring like a lion in the a battle you sanctioned. You do your utmost best to lower the British but it came from the Czechs light machine gun, only letting it a tiny rattle when it hits your Garand, then swapping to your quieter weapons.
It is easy for you to double tap all of them in a single wave before any of them could wake up and get their armaments to bear on you. In fact you find a hint of joy when you see all of them bleeding and unmoving. Just to be sure, you wait a few seconds for nothing to occur so you can waste the rest of the magazine on the corpses and reload. Pistols useless in combat, bah! It takes only a smart man to deploy them correctly. In fairness, they don't compare...
To a properly set up Bren light machine gun on a log with a bead to targets north of your current location. Now those guys are packed together very nicely for a high velocity projectile to go through, say three of fleshy things in short order. So they might be two or three hundred meters away with no cover, which is good, but there might be someone watching and you barrage the hell at the sleeping group on full auto till the gun goes click and alert the fuck out of everything in hearing range.
Presumably everyone, just what you wanted to do. In a single motion you unlatch the magazine, pocketing the empty one and replacing it with a full one, pivot your self to the next group of targets and prepare to engage them. To the few glowing bits, you can see many of them getting up and dashing for either hard cover or into the shadows, the poor ones going for cover go for the wrong ones.
You do give a gracious mental thank you for them exposing themselves clearly against the glow so they may appear silhouetted in contrast to the black everything else with some pinpoint British three-oh-three bursts along the entire southern line the enemy set up. It takes two groups to die for the enemy to finally realize that you're wrecking them and they manage who's available to begin their counter offense.
You speedily put a new thirty round magazine in, much nicer than twenty or ten and lower capacity rounds, and deliberate on whether to continue this attack or pull out. You do notice that the nearby Abyssals have noted you, but not the ones farther down west. Hmm, it just won't do. You want their attention directed at you so that they may either end up dead by your precise and accurate use of a machine gun or tired out from you ongoing attacks. Which ever occurs first, if they tire, you will eliminate them at another hour.
That said, doing eight, nine, or dare you engage the enemy at a thousand meters, you think yes. You prop the Bren up to what you consider a fair angle and as you fire, you shake leftward and spray the area for a larger arc. With that, you're done with this run and you shoulder the LMG and switch to the Garand. During your little displacement, some very large and lumbering shadows come running in your direction as do more visible flashes of gunfire. Also, you think you caused a fire cause from what you can tell, you lit something flammable and it's starting to brighten up the westward region. Sure, you could stop so you can concentrate to see what you've done. And yet you know better, so you run away, not quite like the gingerbread man, but he ain't carrying jack shit like you are.
You duck behind a tree and about face in preparation of the enemy following, where you don't find them coming but you feel your massive grin touching the cold wooden stock by your face. You're very much alive and exhilarated! It makes you to want to scream and shout at the enemy. COME! I'M RIGHT HERE! COME AND DIE! Ambush them like the men of old! George Washington and others! Dictator Fabius! The true Huns!
Gloomily they do not come and therefore not into your field of ambush. What you don't see is soon made apparent to why they don't charge when you hear several giant explosion nearby cracks of rounds colliding with the dirt near your front. Faster, you move to another location and observe that friends have come. Several Sherman tanks illuminate the west with their headlights and searchlights, three flares shoots up to the sky and light up the middle section and forward of your place.
You gaze left and right, the fields, the large groups of men firing and moving behind the tanks, the Abyss giants in the field, the Abyssals surprised and unready. How funny. The enemy got flanked by a group and a lone madman.
Honestly, there's not many enemy left from what you can see. Between you, your allies, and the town that's apparently shooting haphazardly in your direction, the Abyss are probably below a hundred in strength. You can easily see the enemy be defeated by the friendlies over there. But, you want to KILL THEM ALL! ALL THE ABYSS! ALL SHALL BE BENEATH YOUR BOOT AND CASINGS! CUT OUT THEIR LIVERS AND RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
[] ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK AND TRIUMPH! FOR THE FALLEN!
-[] Shoot them! Shoot them! Not charging Jenkins' style!
[] If Dunkirk is easy, then Calais will be hard. Much harder. Or easier, you don't know.
-[] ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK NO MERCY NO QUARTER NO QUESTIONS BUT BLOOD NOT SPILLED KILL KILL KILL THEM SPILL THEIR BLOOD NOT YOURS IT. IS. PAYBACK.
[] After mopping up the enemy, greet your fellows and see who has also decided to slaughter the enemy with better equipment and numbers. They must be good people!
-[] How the fuck are you perky? Why are you so happy? This is war! And you're WINNING! YYYEEEAAAAHHHH!
[] Aggghhh you need to... hmmmgghhhhh, do something else. What was it? Uh.... uh..... someone? Something? Destroy someone? Some things perchance? Find someone? Find a thing? Think?
... great, Arma's gone full Krieg.
[X] Aggghhh you need to... hmmmgghhhhh, do something else. What was it? Uh.... uh..... someone? Something? Destroy someone? Some things perchance? Find someone? Find a thing? Think?
[X] Aggghhh you need to... hmmmgghhhhh, do something else. What was it? Uh.... uh..... someone? Something? Destroy someone? Some things perchance? Find someone? Find a thing? Think?
[X] Aggghhh you need to... hmmmgghhhhh, do something else. What was it? Uh.... uh..... someone? Something? Destroy someone? Some things perchance? Find someone? Find a thing? Think?
[X] Aggghhh you need to... hmmmgghhhhh, do something else. What was it? Uh.... uh..... someone? Something? Destroy someone? Some things perchance? Find someone? Find a thing? Think?
[X] After mopping up the enemy, greet your fellows and see who has also decided to slaughter the enemy with better equipment and numbers. They must be good people!
-[X] How the fuck are you perky? Why are you so happy? This is war! And you're WINNING! YYYEEEAAAAHHHH!
--[X] Ask if they want to attack Calais
[X] Aggghhh you need to... hmmmgghhhhh, do something else. What was it? Uh.... uh..... someone? Something? Destroy someone? Some things perchance? Find someone? Find a thing? Think?
[X] Aggghhh you need to... hmmmgghhhhh, do something else. What was it? Uh.... uh..... someone? Something? Destroy someone? Some things perchance? Find someone? Find a thing? Think?
---
Really try to remember something that you don't actually know. 2d10: (2 +4) That did not go well.
Breaking point roll for knowing you lost some memories. Resolve+Comp+1 For integrity modifier-3 for special reasons. 4d10: (2 +1 +3 +9) 1 Success = a minor condition. Shaken.
Wait wait wait wait.... You put a leash on your blood lust for a moment. There was....... something? Someone? Come on! You can do it, you have it in you. Or maybe it was nothing? You try recalling yesterday, what happened. Actually... what did happen yesterday? What were you doing? What did you do? Who did you meet? What about last week? Last month? Vaguely you can recall those memories, mainly maiming the enemy.
Hang on, what happened at Greenland? That whole sequence of your life you cannot for the life of you, swearing to GOD, it's nothing! Just a blank slate! What you did you do? How did you get back to Europe? Why can't you remember clearly? Are you losing it? Is that why you feel so hungry for fighting? That.... should be normal? Or is it not normal?
You brain snaps back to reality as a explosion thunders from the Abyss encampments. That task, remember the job. It was....
---
Joan Augustus Browning, that is the name the tall army girl decided to herself as she walks languidly in the dark to a German base close to the western front. Toting her borrowed Garand rifle closer and by extension her wool coat and other clothes, she notes the lack of people doing sentry duty in the base and the absence of anything louder than the wind. Internally though the girl was in the process of going through an episode. Noooo! F----. Why do I have to have a name? At the very least why do I have to come up with my own? So this is how parents must feel with naming their kids. Most the the thoughts were to temporary block out the physical exhaustion and the mental fatigue from colluding with sea creatures.
She bellows out a huge white cloud from her breathe, good old condensation or whatever it's called, walks a bit faster westward before unknowingly colliding against a vocal box about hip height. Not enough for Miss Brown to cry out or fall over, but it sure seems like the box does. "Ow!" The object cries out in mild pain and makes some noise from contacting the ground. Wait boxes don't cry.
On looking to the small girl sitting on the ground and rubbing her butt, Joan puts two and two together and instantly crouches down besides the sufferer to do something not harmful which is nothing but panicking talk. "Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean to! Are you okay?"
In the dark it's hard to tell for Joan, but the girl was fine physically. Though it doesn't help Joan as sailor Witch changes from sitting to lying on the ground with an accompanying moan. "Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh. Tired."
"Hey! You aren't dead right!?" Joan's hands switch from trying to touch her and reflexively not for she didn't know if it was okay or not until she realize going for her torch was a better option. Finally turning the flashlight on, she flashes the light up and down the sailor/swimsuit thing till the face is visible. Aside from sagging eyes, the girl was in visibly fine.
Less fine was the Witch being shined with the uncomfortable light as she blocks what rays she can with her hand. "Bright. Eh, I'm fine, so can you please stop with the light?"
The light goes to off as Joan does as she was asked, yet she's not entirely sure or persuaded that all was well. The Witch has yet to get up, leading Joan to ask. "Uh, are you gonna get up or-" I know it isn't cold right now but come on... In instinct Joan swiftly backs away from her as she jumps back to her weary feet.
"I'm fine! I can keep going. Haaa....." What energy that was expelled ends up probably was everything she had left as her body shows signs of fatigue, her shoulders slump with her back bending forward and other symptoms of a drained body that's been hard at work.
Coming to the conclusion that the fall wasn't the issue but something else, Joan relaxes a little bit and speaks with more confidence. "Excuse me Miss, but I think you should go to bed. How about I take you to the barracks? Where is it?"
Yoshika makes a big yawn and points to the building in the middle right. "Over there."
Joan nods to herself and deciding that walking was too much for the lass, shoulders the rifle so she can easily picks her up with both arms, not getting a complaint from the Witch and heads over to the general direction that the Witch pointed to. "Then off we go! So what's your name?"
"Miyafuji... Yoshika." The Japanese Witch goes into slumber in Joan's arms all the while she thought one thing, ... Fucking Browning knows her! If she's here, then the five hundred and first is here, or close by. Is that good or bad? She makes headway to the barracks in thought, even then she shouldn't as to compile more responsibilities. In list form...
To have peace with the Abyss, the warring faction must be cut down to a manageable group. So everything in Europe has got to go. Hurrah for backstage talks. After that more meetings would be needed.
Neuroi, no fucking idea what's with them.
Do not lose your magical body and John A Browning. Obviously there's both practical and obscure reasons.
Other faction controlled by ancient brother and/or sister are doing their own thing. Since you've been out of the loop, what the fuck are they up to should be addressed and are they fucking with the other body? They are aren't they?
To be listed in the future. Oh wait, What's the 501 up to?
I need some sleep too. Opening the door to what might be the dormitory, Joan enters to a dark hallway. Blackout, right... She's about to ask which room but holds her tongue knowing Yoshika is out cold. That makes things more difficult. How about nameplates? There are no nameplates. ... Listen to the snores! Putting her ears to the different doors, she eventually finds a room without a snore or anything and probes inside a plain bedroom with bunks on both sides and a desk at the window at the edge of where she is.
Seeing as nothing is wrong, the Witch is placed on the right bunk with pillows and covers all ready for a good nights sleep. And it seems really comfortable...
[] No sleeping! No! Must meet people in charge! Wait, what the shit is the official backstory!? Why Joan must be here?
-[] Write-in. Make a introduction. Be it realistic or tame or crazy or absurd.
[] Professional Volunteer. No idea behind the meaning but it sounds pretty convincing.
-[] Gender Bender of John A Browning! Because of the Abyss! Their fault! Yeah! Uhhhh. Why? Magic and whatnot.
[] Go to sleep right now. Think of stuff tomorrow. Zzzzz...
[] Eating and Drinking sounds very very good. A good fourth meal is what's needed! Who needs sleep after several millennium of doing just that? Also use magic to fix being sleepy. The war is at hand! It killed sleep!
Coming to the conclusion that the fall wasn't the issue but something else, Joan relaxes a little bit and speaks with more confidence. "Excuse me Miss, but I think you should go to bed. How about I take you to the barracks? Where is it?"
Yoshika makes a big yawn and points to the building in the middle right. "Over there."
Joan nods to herself and deciding that walking was too much for the lass, shoulders the rifle so she can easily picks her up with both arms, not getting a complaint from the Witch and heads over to the general direction that the Witch pointed to. "Then off we go! So what's your name?"
To have peace with the Abyss, the warring faction must be cut down to a manageable group. So everything in Europe has got to go. Hurrah for backstage talks. After that more meetings would be needed.
Neuroi, no fucking idea what's with them.
Do not lose your magical body and John A Browning. Obviously there's both practical and obscure reasons.
Other faction controlled by ancient brother and/or sister are doing their own thing. Since you've been out of the loop, what the fuck are they up to should be addressed and are they fucking with the other body? They are aren't they?
To be listed in the future. Oh wait, What's the 501 up to?
[] Professional Volunteer. No idea behind the meaning but it sounds pretty convincing.
-[] Gender Bender of John A Browning! Because of the Abyss! Their fault! Yeah! Uhhhh. Why? Magic and whatnot.
[X] No sleeping! No! Must meet people in charge! Wait, what the shit is the official backstory!? Why Joan must be here?
-[X]Sergeant Joan Browning, US Marines, orders establish contact with the 501st and seek out John Browning for magic training.
--[X]I don't know why, I just follow orders. That, and getting trained by the US Army's greatest soldier's pretty sweet.
[X] No sleeping! No! Must meet people in charge! Wait, what the shit is the official backstory!? Why Joan must be here?
-[X] Fucked if I know, a month ago I was stateside at the beach with my family, then this spider looking tank thing showed up and started shooting people, then this red and black bitch appeared out of the sky and and decided it wanted to take me home after she and her friends finished scraping the tank, next thing I know I'm in the bastard child of a daemon and a striker and we're opening up abyssals like it's X-mas, then I shot these three Nazi bastards and the demon planes started attacking me and Red and Black looks pissed which is weird because she doesn't have a face, then I blacked out and woke up here, also I need to talk to John Browning he left a few of his guns in Greenland. By the way it's still 1940 right?
[X] Professional Volunteer. No idea behind the meaning but it sounds pretty convincing.
-[x] Gender Bender of John A Browning! Because of the Abyss! Their fault! Yeah! Uhhhh. Why? Magic and whatnot.
[X] No sleeping! No! Must meet people in charge! Wait, what the shit is the official backstory!? Why Joan must be here?
-[X]Sergeant Joan Browning, US Marines, orders establish contact with the 501st and seek out John Browning for magic training.
--[X]I don't know why, I just follow orders. That, and getting trained by the US Army's greatest soldier's pretty sweet.
[X] Professional Volunteer. No idea behind the meaning but it sounds pretty convincing.
-[x] Gender Bender of John A Browning! Because of the Abyss! Their fault! Yeah! Uhhhh. Why? Magic and whatnot.
Yea I'm with Late, mentioning the Abyss will get us shot and if anyone checks and finds out we don't actually have orders to be here we will also get shot, It looks like a write in is the answer here.
Yea I'm with Late, mentioning the Abyss will get us shot and if anyone checks and finds out we don't actually have orders to be here we will also get shot, It looks like a write in is the answer here.
Hey cheers mate, I'm pretty sure that we either want some thing really far out there or something really simple and there's not really a simple reason for why we're on the eastern front, in a US Army uniform, carrying Miyafuji and looking for Browning. We won't show up on the US ship girl or strike witch rosters and any of the witches will be able to tell we have magic, so honestly we are going to need something so crazy that even if they don't believe us they'll be so stunned or confused by it Browning gets back to save our ass before we get put infront of a firing squad because some paranoid fucker thinks we might be a spy.
[X] No sleeping! No! Must meet people in charge! Wait, what the shit is the official backstory!? Why Joan must be here?
-[X] Sergeant Joan Browning, US Marines, orders establish contact with the 501st and seek out John Browning for magic training.
--[X] I don't know why, I just follow orders. That, and getting trained by the US Army's greatest soldier's pretty sweet.
---
Luck on meeting 1d5: 5. Congrats, you don't meet any Americans COs.
Your head comes very close to meeting the soft texture, but you manage to pull away and pinch your cheeks to reawaken body and mind so you can get out the room. No, no sleep now! Have to do some fancy bullshit talk. Your next stop would be the closest commanding officer to brown nose. Otherwise how can you stay near people fit to fight the Abyss on land? You come up with a idea of your background, absurd as it was but it should pass if nobody looks hard enough. Hopefully the war aspect will wash away any intense scrutiny.
Nothing venture, nothing gained. Outside you notice a group of guys wasted and moving to another building, perhaps their quarters. Just your luck, you can ask the least drunk person where to find the CO of the base. You scan their barely visible faces, giving up when their torches or the flashlights kept wavering so you went by smell. Out of the five, only one seemed to be clean, a big guy from what you can tell, someone taller than you.
"Ah, excuse me gents. Specifically you there, big man. Uh, can you point me to the direction of Command's building?" Only one fellow turns to face you, but not the first reply as you get is some extreme incoherent, slushy German that you cannot possible understand by someone else. But apparently it was funny cause several of the men started laughing and it's pretty awkward for you.
"It's over there." The not drunk soldier points to the group of buildings across the runway and pushes some of the guys away from you. "Though most of the commanders are probably asleep."
"Got it. Thanks!" You wave farewell to the helpful man and the drunk lot before making the sorta long walk to the next set of unlit buildings. The runway's clear, so no death by plane or Witch and you get to the tower part of the headquarters. No sentries, no help this time in navigating your way into the building. After going through some German sign reading, you enter the black interior and roam the place looking for anybody.
It takes four minutes for you to hear some female voices nearby and you start seeking them out and not on purpose do you eavesdrop them for evil purposes. And you better not forget to have normal eyes. Dark green will be fine.
"Green tea." Oh, better be quiet. You pace yourself to soften your steps on the boards.
"Thank you."
"Another long night?"
"Probably."
"Really, you should sleep now. I'll handle what I can until morning. Besides, I woke up later. Let me take over."
"It's fine Sakamoto. I'll sleep in after an hour." You finally come to the small office where two girls are having tea together. The one standing near the desk with black hair tied in a ponytail and has an eye patch over her right eye, that's Sakamoto Mio if you recall rightly, Thanks Browning's memory. The one in the chair with reddish short hair and eyes doing some document work, Minna Wilcke.
Bingo! Just the people to see. Just need to play it cool. "Pardon me. Is this where the five-oh-first is at?"
Both ladies stop working and turn to face you, showing a little bit of a surprise from your sudden appearance. Silently the two decide that Minna should be the one to talk to you and she gets up from her seat to do so. "If you mean the Strike Witches, then it is. Who are you?"
Snap to a proper American salute, you begin. "Sergeant Joan Browning, United States Marine Corp. I'm here to meet with the Strike Witches and John Browning, uh, no relation, for magical training. Or with the Witches. I'm not entirely sure and embarrassing to say, but I lost the slip with all the writing. So I'm not entirely sure what to do."
"Browning?" Mio and Minna share a look together before Minna flips through a log book and giving up after a few pages. "Uh listen, Sergeanr Browning, it's really late. We can deal with the problem tomorrow. How about a room?"
Scott free! For the time being. "Uh, no problem. I know it's late and I just wanted this to get done, but I'll definitely take a bed. Uh, is a bath included?"
---
April 7th, 1943
You have a sorry excuse for a shower prior to getting your own bed and bunk for which you take a good morning's rest. Life is not initially blissful though, in part the blankets are a tiny bit too thin to properly warm your body, but you solve that by borrow the other empty bed's one. Now, everything for the time being was good.
When you wake up, it's semi loud outside with people and machines creating some far away noise, suppose they might be moving big stuff around. You get up and wear your borrowed uniform with the incorrect everything. No chevrons, dog tags, no helmet, but at least you have a scarf when it gets cold. Anyway, Rifle, check! Clothes, check! ... I have nothing else! Shit, your plan is not up to strict inspection.
Ah well, maybe the humans are more focused on the Neuroi and Abyss to give a damn about a nobody. You exit your small room and see the tail end of a trio in blue jackets entering their room. While you ponder on the identities, you're gently bumped from behind by two shorter blonde girls. Firstly you make sure the Garand doesn't go bang when you don't want it too. Second, you turn around find who did the ram and see the poi girl and that land Witch both spooked and rubbing their noses.
"Ow. Sorry, poi." Yuudachi gives her meager apology yet you unsure if it's to you or Miss Lueder.
Hmm, how to handle this?
[] Give the poi a taste of trickery. Now, how to prank? Blame Browning's dealings with the girl.
-[] Write-in.
-[] When they blink, disappear! Wooooo. Scary. Then BAM you're behind them. "Hello girls."
-[] Magic invisible barrier that anyone but those two can pass through. Yes, you'll eventually let them pass. That'll teach them about invisible bullshit.
[] A source of intel! Smooth talk your way with the ship girl and land Witch about the going of the base. Make friends everywhere.
[] Uh whatever, you should meet the people in charge. Gotta be a good soldier now. Soo...
-[] Be an Air Witch? You don't actually know if you can handle Strikers.
-[] Land Witch? Again, you don't know if you can handle the equipment.
-[] Ship girl?
-[] Yeah, fuck it, going infantry. God loves the INFANTRY!
Both ladies stop working and turn to face you, showing a little bit of a surprise from your sudden appearance. Silently the two decide that Minna should be the one to talk to you and she gets up from her seat to do so. "If you mean the Strike Witches, then it is. Who are you?"
Snap to a proper American salute, you begin. "Sergeant Joan Browning, United States Marine Corp. I'm here to meet with the Strike Witches and John Browning, uh, no relation, for magical training. Or with the Witches. I'm not entirely sure and embarrassing to say, but I lost the slip with all the writing. So I'm not entirely sure what to do."
"Browning?" Mio and Minna share a look together before Minna flips through a log book and giving up after a few pages. "Uh listen, Sergeanr Browning, it's really late. We can deal with the problem tomorrow. How about a room?"
[X] A source of intel! Smooth talk your way with the ship girl and land Witch about the going of the base. Make friends everywhere.
We can Social where Jon currently can't.
