Thread: Strike Witches 442nd Air Wing [RP]

Dawn broke on Yanimebi, a small-ish island somewhere vaguely southwest of the country of Fuso. the normal everyday huslte in the local harbor becane to occur, and the daily sip of tousits and/or refugees from the Choson peninsula was arriving.

on this barge was a girl of 17, named Haley Campbell. she had long black hair that shone in the sunshine, but despite the promissing day,she felt deppressed.

Having grown up in Liberion, she was at Yanimebi to go to war. once the barge had docked, Haley picked up her two large duffel bags and headed toward the military air base. with a display of her ID and security clearance, she was allowed onto the base and led to her accomidations, a two person room with her other various crates and bags having been shipped here previously.

at this point she didn't have a roomate, so haley unpacked. civilian clothes and books were the mainstay, but in on of the duffel bags were the parts for a Modified Johnson M1941 Light Machine Gun. Once there was enough room, she began reasembling the weapon, ensuring the bolt slid cleanly through the firing chamber before closing, cocking and dry-firing the weapon. the pieces were there and the action felt good, so she set it aside in the corner and sighed.

"And so my days as a strike witch begin..." she murmured to herself.

"HOW BORING!"

That's when the girl would suddenly realize that the brick and mortar wall that was near her bed suddenly had a fist through it. A goddamn mother****ing fist. It seems that someone was punching walls.

'OI YOU KEEP YOUR DAMN MOUTH SHUT BEFORE I DO IT FOR YOU, SOME PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO GET SOME MOTHER****ING SLEEP!" Yelled another person. It was in English, somewhat accented, and before she could react, the fist retracted, and the sounds of heavy footsteps could be heard, before her door was kicked open by a girl wearing a feminized version of the Liberion Navy Service Khakis. As with most witches, she didn't wear her service cap, but one can see a khaki garrison cap tucked into her pistol belt, which held, unsurprisingly, a holstered M1911A1. Her arms crossed, her expression tired,a nd it seemed she had slight bags under her eyes. One could note she wore tan stockings that went into curious side-zippered Liberion Marine Corps boots.

"Do you know how tiring it is to do night patrols. So pipe down will ya!" The girl said, before turning to leave.

Haley could only stare at the other liberion girl, too surprised to say anything. She caught herself just before the other left and spoke up

"S-Sorry. it's my first day here and im not really sure what to do. I'm Haley Campbell. i specialize in temperary speed augmentation. who are you?"

[oc: shoulda seen that coming]

Hiroko heard a ruckus as she stepped into the confines of the military base's barracks after doing some morning training. It seemed that Liberon pilot was at it again....though she herself could scarcely blame her. The walls were thin, almost paperlike in terms of how well it could block sound. The Fuso pilot decided it would be wise to just ignore what was currently going on.

There was no need to get involved. Quickly she started to walk towards her dorm...

The Liberion Navy witch eyed her counterpart closely, and came back. She seemed to smell of gun oil, and looking in, she saw a completed and modified light machine gun. She also heard someone pass, and saw the Fuso witch trying to sneak back to her dorm.

"Oi. Hiroko. Where you off to?" She called. It was best if they all got together for now. Well, even if the girl was dead tired.

"I was off to my dorm." Hiroko turned around to face the person who stopped her. A slight glare of annoyance was on her face. "Or am I not allowed to sleep?"

Aura heard a loud smash from the other end of the dorm, followed by some yelling.

Oh my God, that's the Yankee again. As if there was not enough fussing and fighting with the enemy...

Aura opened the door of her room a tiny little bit and stuck her nose out very cautiously -- just to get noticed by a passing-by Saki-chan. The little maid girl turned to Aura and whispered something, giggling. Aura barely got two or three words of her Fusogo, but guessed the rest: the new one has arrived, let's go play a prank on her.

"Oh, shut up and go on about your work", Aura mumbled in her own native language. She had enough trouble with the Britannian that was used for the unit's internal communication, and the maintenance personnel, almost all Fusojins, did not speak even that.

Although often annoyed by Saki-chan's antics, Aura did not want to be rude with her. Poor child, perhaps ten years of age and here as a volunteer, willing to give all her housekeeping skills to defend Fuso -- no, the mankind.

Aura closed the door and went back to look at her closet. She was irritatingly aware of the fact that most of her panties were worn out, and getting new underwear could get tricky during wartime shortage.

Hakey gave a wry smile, more out of appoligy than any real happiness.

"I didn't intend to wake you. its just no one other than the receptionist was around and i thought i'd be working with others im guessing from your apparel...or rather, lack of pants... that you are also witches."

haley looked around a monemt and dug out a picture of her with her striker units.

"Did my Aegle make it here safely? its a Hellcat based model, standard blue with a long scratch along the left side."

Karin dropped her duffel on the bed. her father had disowned her for leaving, but she no longer cared. she ruffled her hair around and sat down, letting the chaos around her simply slide, but noticed the fuso girl talking to the damn yankee...

She decided it would be more interesting than sitting here counting bullets, so she slipped over and stood behind the fuso girl. she didn't intend to say anything, but she found herself saying

"ummmmmm Hi?"

Hiroko turned around to see an unfamiliar face.

"....Uh." She blinked. Odd. I haven't seen her around often. It's none of my business anyways. I should be worrying about myself more. The enemy won't rest until the world's destroyed. "I-I better go." She shoved her way past the two and started to hurry down the corridor. The lack of sleep was catching up to her and she felt a bit dizzy at the thought of so many people around her. Mornings were not very pleasant.

"Anti-Social Fuso B-...Witch." She said under her breath, that only the Fuso witch can hear, as she passed by. Looking at the Fusoite with a look of slight disgust and some respect. Good flyer maybe, but then, Fuso invented the Strikers.

"Anyways. Pipe down will ya? Some of us are trying to get some sleep." With that, she went back to her room, the hole in the wall covered with a black curtain.

Oh. That. Did. It. Hiroko now knew that that Yankee was up to no good. If anything she'd only cause more trouble in the future. Before she could stop herself, Hiroko couldn't help but utter a comeback at the retreating Jean.

"Shrieking Chicken Yankee. All you know is how to squawk and you can't even fly, much less in a straight line." She said this loud enough for SEVERAL people to hear before slamming shut her dorm room. Hiroko then collapsed onto her bed laying onto her side and inwardly cursing her luck with her assigned squadron.

BAM

At the threshold of her now opened door (which now busted off its hinges) was a rather irate girl. Sporting a bushy tail from under her skirt and golden dog ears, she had her arms crossed, her fist clenched tight with a brass knuckle.

"What. Did. You. Call. Me. Fuso. Bitch." She said, before descending on her counterpart and dragging her up by her collar. Both were really tired, and antsy from the flight over enemy held territory.

Hiroko was rather unphased by this attack. The Chicken Yankee was at it again, squawking and making a ruckus when provoked.

"You attacked me first, so I attacked you back. Isn't that the right protocol to do when an enemy attacks? Also, there's such a thing as "knocking" or maybe you're too uncivilized to do such a thing. Hm...I suppose you might get in trouble for damages as well. Perhaps even a charge of assault against a fellow witch?" A sly smirk crept onto her face.

"I'd never thought that a witch such as yourself would react so irately towards that kind of low remark. I guess I was right about the remark though. You certainly busted out of your chicken coop to attack me. Or is it a pig sty?"

Her eyebrow twitched. Flying with her tonight would not be a fun mood. She'd have to apologize later...just not in front of the others. She let the Fuso witch go, and stalked angrilly to her room, which was, well, to the one next to the Fuso witch's room.

"What a ****ing day." She said, laying on her side. Nevermind she'd have to pay for her antics, but no enemy activity let her antsy and nervous. This was just way she showed it.

Sighing, Hiroko adjusted her clothes, straightening them out with deft strokes. She did feel some guilt for that particular exchange. It was...stupid of her to have reacted that way in the first place.

"You should've known that would've happened. You're really bad with people after all. Don't you remember all those names that people called you when you were little, Hiroko?" Softly she said this to herself as she picked up the door and reattached it (with some difficulty) to the door frame. It seemed that some of the pins had fallen off and no real damage was done. Shortly after, the Fuso witch found herself sitting on her bed. The problem was still irking her. Was it her upbrining that made her this way?

"Mou." She scratched her head in agitation as she irately got up once more from her cot and rummaged in her closet for something. A few seconds later she took out a box which was tied with string. It was a bottle of aged sake that she was given a few days ago by one of the townspeople. However, Hiroko wasn't a drinker, so there was not much she could do with it except let it sit there. Taking a piece of scrap paper from the old desk that was sitting in one corner of the room she scribbled a short note: "I apologize for my comments. They were not befitting of a fellow witch."

She then stuffed the note under the string and went outside to deposit the package next to the Liberon girl's room. Hiroko stared at the package for a brief second before going back into her room and going back to sleep for at least a while until breakfast hours.

haley watched the heated exchange with wide eyes, wanting to aviod more trouble, but unsure how to do it. with a trembling sigh, she went back into her room. after kicking her things under her rack, she took a walk around the facilities, really hoping to find the hanger and her striker units.

it wasn't really hard. a large half cylinder building that looked something like a bunker stood at the end of the runway. Haley headed in and found the crate with her units in it. she hauled them out and lai them down inspecting for any damage.


*mainwhile, several hundred miles away, a standard neuroi ship altered its course and headed for the straight of water between yanimebi and the mainland. it's target, the fuso air bases.*

Typical. Just Typical. She thought to herself as she watched the exchange. she even readied her ceremonial dagger, as these fights usually escalated dangerously back in Karlsland.

But she didn't need it, and she put it on the ground next to her trademark battleweary panzershreck and 20mm cannon.

she opened the ammo box, Liberon made ammunition bought off the black market, and strapped on the belts of ammo in an X over her Karlsreich officer's uniform, more of a cerimonial garb than anything, as she was still an unterleitenant, but the furher had bestowed it to her along with this assignment. She completed her duty garb with the 20mm strapped on her back, along side two panzershreck rounds, and the tube resting on her shoulder.

She stood there for a long moment, looking down the sight of the unloaded tube, and drifted off into each memory related to each scratch and dent on the 4 year old weapon.

before she realised, she began to act out the events, and very nearly took the head off of the yank as she stormed to her room, swinging the heavy tube like a baseball bat, as she had once done to defend herself, killing two enemy soldiers.

She laid on her bed exhausted, and found her cat ears and tail up.

What a ride!


Oh papa if you could see me now.

She saw picture of her striker unit, an odd one, one jet engine, one propeller on each leg, sittin on her night stand.
the design was to increase her speed with the jet engines, but allow her to slow down to propellor speeds when using her panzershreck. those engineers were devious. the catch was the jet engines decreased her fighting capability when running, as they consumed magical power, so she had to be careful.

[to proceed the plot along...]

*The anti air batteries lit up the sky as they opened up upon the passing neuroi ship, its course set for southern Fuso. An angry annoying alarm went off, foolowed by a short message*

SCRAMBLE ALL AVAILABLE WTICH PILOTS! NEUROI SIGHTED!

A longer, more quiet message began to update continuously on the range on direction of the enemy.

"Airborn contact at target angle 5, bearing zero-two-five! target bearing one-five-zero! Target is rapidly outdistancing the effective range of the anti air batteries!"


[inside the hanger]

Haley started at the alarm and began to run back to her room.

"Damn it! i need my weapon!" she huffed, sprinting toward the berthings.

[ooc:sorry if i use navy terms insead of air force. its what im used to]

((Naw, Jean is Navy anyways...although I might want to switch her to Marines))

Jean groaned, and got up. She strolled to her table where she put on a heavy leather belt with B.A.R. magazines. Her chosen weapon was in the hangar. Unlike the other witches, she kept her weapons in the regulations-stated quick-deploy storage rack near her Striker unit.

"Oi you lazy asses, let's move!" She yelled passing other dorms. Entering the hangar, she stopped before her striker unit and unzipped her boots. Jumping into her striker unit, she started up, her dog ears and tail appearing, her magical circle appearing slightly before disappearing, and the magical propellers in the striker unit starting to come to life. Next to her, the weapon rack shot forward, revealing the B.A.R. that was her weapon, and a Naval Officer's sword, which she left alone, instead grabbing a nasty pair of fingerless gloves with padding. SHe already had her brass knuckles taking up one of her mag pouches.