>>38497689
Indurring panzer

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Of course.

They're still angry at humanity, the last and final invaders of their land to drive them Underhill, and they seized the Martian War as opportunity to sabotage mankind's chances of survival. The Gremlins, slipping from the shadows to work mischief on planes and machines of all sorts, and they know your power, your skill, the one who sees into the shadows and -

- my god, it's -

The longest two second pause of your life finally ends as you fold your hands together. “Archangel Michael, look over my poor brother in his time of need, and keep his soul safe-”

“Sean, I'm-”

“-and bless my efforts as I rip this fucking murdering changeling into kibble.”

The wicked fae creature bolts like greased lightning for the manor house and you watch him go with great amusement.

He actually thinks he can escape.

Looking about, you espy a metal rod in the lawn to your left. Investigation reveals a horseshoe pitch; yet another English game that'd be greatly improved with the addition of alcohol. You requisition two iron horseshoes and within moments have tied them together with your rosary beads into a holy cold-iron bola. You give it a few experimental swings as you advance towards the manor, where the grizzled gardener is bracing himself resolutely in the doorway as a fifteen-year old French lunatic is trying to pry him out of the way while snarling presumably hostile things in French.

>>38497689
I wanna make some clear fapangel. If your router dies, so do you.

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You stop a few strides short of this tableau, and draw yourself up to your full height. Looking down on the poor fools, you raise your hand.

“DO NOT COME BETWEEN THE PORKLORD AND IT'S PREY!”

Perrine and the gardener stop fighting long enough to stare at you.

“TRIATH! HUNT!”

The obstacles dissipate like those floaty dandelion seed-things before a hurricane a heartbeat before Triath barrels through the entryway, his massive bulk gaining a mighty and terrible momentum. He dashes around the hallways for a little while before putting on the brakes, piling up an expensive rug beneath his hooves as he halts. You freeze a pace behind him, waiting.

Triath puts his nose to the floorboards, and begins to sniff.

He's found the scent.

You creep after your tracking pig as he sniffs his way through the old mansion, curly little tail twitching as he focuses his incredible intellect on the pursuit of the damned fae. Pigs, you know, are smart – terrifyingly smart. If they could fit into suits, they'd probably be in Parliament by now – or maybe they already are. Triath leads you into a dusty office which is thickly adorned with all sorts of red coats and funny hats and no less than three large paintings of constipated English assholes on horses with an army of hounds, presumably chasing a single fucking fox. You pause long enough to rip a sheet of paper off the desk blotter and liberate some tape. As Triath homes in on one corner of the room, you neatly re-name the paintings “Hunt for the Bismark,” “Hunt for the Graf Spee” and the largest one over the desk, depicting a bunch of hounds staring at a burrow entrance with gorgeously-rendered “well shit” faces is rechristened “Fleet In Being.” Triath has sat upon his haunches and is staring at a trap-door in the ceiling by the time you finish.

>>38497756
THIS!

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>>38497756

I upgraded my data plan and I've got a smartphone that can wifi tether.

I WILL NOT BE DENIED.

>>38497689
>Consort of Queen Sakamoto the Nipponese
Oh gods my fucking sides

>>38497783
this pig!

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>>38497783

“Agreed,” you say, plucking a battered brass bugle off a stand near the door and shaking the dust out of it. “We've treed the fae. Quiet, now – it won't be long.”

Afore long your cautious search is interrupted by the unmistakable quickstep of fast-moving bitchtits. Peeking around a corner, you espy Perrine flinging doors open one at a time, her hair flying about her face as she whips her head about trying to search every square inch of every chamber in half a second. She's making enough noise that you and Triath are able to stroll up behind her without any attempt at stealth at all. You're just shaking the remaining dust out of the bugle and drawing in a nice, deep lungful of breath to greet the daft tart when she flings open the door to the goddamned parlor.

You both stare in silence for a long moment, because the tableau is truly something. A few of the young medical students have already succumbed to the Witchy Charms, enthusiastically returning their ardent advances. One is trying to reach a bottle of brandy with one hand while holding an IV bag over his charge with the other, despite said charge sleeping soundly against his chest. The bravest one has firmly restrained his patient with liberal amounts of medical tape so he can proceed with treatment unhindered, but the wounded Witch is apparently enjoying the arrangement rather more than she aught, much to the young man's consternation.

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>>38497844

And right in the middle of this tableau of Sex in the Surgery is Ian, who's face is buried in the formidable glacis plate of his mother, Katherine Kent.

Perrine seems to expand like an angry cat with a firehose of hate jammed into its asshole. (Fuck Robbie Burns, *you're* the poet of the common man.) Her long, silken hair explodes in little bristles of frizz as static charges go tingling over your skin; her slender ripcage expanding with rage as thwarted lust blazes in her cheeks... and forehead... and neck. You marvel at how perfectly she mirrors Ian in some ways, but if Ian's a high-pressure boiler, Perrine's just a pasty bag filled with sexual frustration and capped by a nozzle that only emits social snobbery. You can almost watch her smashing that penis-shaped peg into square social holes, looking for once she can brute-force.

She REALLY needs to get laid.

>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.
>The Irishman Abides.
>Other?

>>38497876
>>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

HEY IAN

FUCK YOU

SOMETHING BAD HAPPENED AND I'M GOING TO PIGGYBACK OFF YOUR SUFFERING TO MAKE IT BETTER

>>38497876
>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

IAN MUST SUFFER!

>>38497876
>>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.
THIS CANNOT POSSIBLY GO WRONG

>>38497876
>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

The lulz must not be stopped!

>>38497876
>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.
Dis gon be gud.

>>38497876
>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

THERE IS THE ONLY OPTION!

>>38497876
>>The Irishman Abides.

>>38497876
>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

This can can only go wrong. For Ian.

>>38497973
then the mother goes apeshit over the french tart

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>>38497876
We have a bugle. We know what must be done.
Cry havoc, and let slip the witches of war.

>>38497876
>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.
This is the only answer.

>>38498009
so much blood!

>>38497876
>>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

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>>38497876
>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

Shenanigans HO!

>>38497876
i mean, we cant just not use the bugle

Thinking on it, would his mother being busty be a factor as to why Ian has a preference for modestly endowed girls like Perrine?

>>38498185
I would say so, yes.

>>38497876
>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.
WE HAVE NOT EVEN BEGUN TO UNLEASH TOPLEL.

>>38497876
>>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

Gap an Elf, you're a fucking poet with that summary of Perrine.

>>38498185
>implying he actually likes her

Their marriage is going to be entirely one-sided.

>>38497876
Part of me wants to say "That's his mother," before Perrine gets herself in deep shit. But then I remember where I am.

We're announcing her with the damned bugle.

>>38498240
You don't understand anon.
Ian is like a mixture of kuudere and tsundere.
His English blood prevents him from showing emotion, but trust me, his love for Perrine is real.

>>38497876

Fuckin... do we know la Marseilles? we need to bugle that shit.

And don't say we don't. Every fucking asshole to ever wrap their manpleasers around a fucking bugle knows that shit.

>>38498292
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIxOl1EraXA

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>>38497783
>Pigs, you know, are smart – terrifyingly smart. If they could fit into suits, they'd probably be in Parliament by now – or maybe they already are.

UPDATE CALLED, WRITIN

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>>38497876
>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

>>38497689
>>38497719
>>38497783
>>38497844
>>38497876
There is nothing in any of these posts that did not make me grin. Also, the incredible degree to which we have already trained Triath leads me to suspect something gnomey is happening.

>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

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>>38498430

>>38498617
Where's this picture from?

Goddamnit, late again.

I paused Dr. Feynman for you fap angel, you better make it worth it.

>>38498647
Ghostrider

>>38498682
Thought it might be that. Didn't know there was a tank Ghostrider.

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Unleashing upon the british the hound of gaul?

Nothing can go wrong from this. Nothing at all.

>>38497876
>>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.
yup, get Katherine to pay attention to her future daughter in law and ask Ian all kinds of uncomfortable questions

>>38498969
Why are blond girls always worst girls?

>>38498969
The beauty and the beast.

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>>38499028
Are you insulting my erika?

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>>38499028
>>38499074
Perrine is the best.

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You continue casually dusting off your new bugle, draw in a deep breath and apply it to your lips just as Perrine's about to reach the breaking point.

You have always loved bugles. They're like trumpets, but without need of valves – you need only blow; and glorious loud NOISE emerges, brassy and bold, calling men to arms, sending them to sleep, or just plain drowning out their fucking stupidity with sheer glorious LOUD NOISE. Your mum was dead-set on a clarinet because of some horseshit hogwash a salesman sold her, but you won in the end – you got your goddamn trumpet slot in the school band.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fgDxAASI_c

You blow that goddamn brass for everything its worth, a strangled, wild sound crawling out of the dust-choked horn and crawling across the room as you play the only possible intro for a frenchwoman.

“ALL HAIL,” you bellow around your bugle, and then blow it some more just for the hell of it. “ALL HAIL PRIVATES H. CLAMSHELL, SHE WHO BEARS THE MIDDLE NAME OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOR, WHO BEARS UPON HER BRAVE CHEST THE DFC, THE LEGION DE HONOR, THE CROTCH-DE-GURU, THE AIRHEAD MEDAL AND EVEN THE DISTINGUISHED FLYING CROSS!”

>>38499074
>The beauty and the beast
Yeah, Eila is a beast of a sexual predator

>>38499028
That'd imply Katherine, Marselles and some other blondes are bad.

>>38498969
>that blush
Perfectly cute.

>>38499104
>WHO BEARS UPON HER BRAVE CHEST THE DFC

I have no face.

>>38499104
>Announcing a frenchie
>Sound retreat

Oh you.

>>38497876
>>Announce her presence as a herald, as befits a Noblewoman of France.

Her Majesty, the Queen of Bitchtits and overbitch territories, Countess of Cunt, Princess of Puffed Up, High Lady of Handful, ruler of all her heeled boot walks over!

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>>38499104
>WHO BEARS UPON HER BRAVE CHEST THE DFC

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>>38499104

Somebody in the back of the room tries to speak, and you gun him down with your bugle. “BEST BE HAILING, MOTHERFUCKER!”

Perrine steps into the silence naturally, not questioning your fanfare or having registered a single goddamn word of it. “YOU,” she roars, her hair beginning to rise in a blonde halo of frizzy rage about her head. “YOU TROLLOP TART MAN-GRABBING SLUTTY-SLOBBERING ENGLISH WENCH!”

Thirteen witches stare at her in trepidation.

“YOU!” she says, leveling her finger at Katherine Kent, causing the other twelve witches to slump in relief. “THOU BLASPHEMER! THOU SUPERSLUT! UNHAND HIM BEFORE I GO NORMAN CONQUEST ON YOUR ASS!”

Katherine Kent stares at her, tears of joy and reunion drying on her cheeks as she throws a track trying to shift gears. “What.”

Perrine snatches at her side, whipping her ancestral rapier out of its thin scabbard and whipping it around in the air like Errol Flynn. “I DEMAND SATISFACTION, YOU MAN-EATING HUSSY!”

Realization slowly dawns on Katherine, and her eyes widen in horror. She looks down at Ian, and her eyes light up as a circuit completes. “YOU!” she cries at Perrine. “YOU'RE THE HUSSY THAT WAS KISSING IAN'S PILOT!”

The energy quite literally goes out of the room as Perrine's frizzy hair drops to her shoulders again.

“Whuuh.”

>>38499104
>WHO BEARS UPON HER BRAVE CHEST THE DFC
>AND EVEN THE DISTINGUISHED FLYING CROSS
>Sounding retreat

I guess that's our cue to exit stage left?

>>38499156
Ding, dong. This witch is dead.

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>>38499104
>HER BRAVE CHEST THE DFC,
>THE CROTCH-DE-GURU
>THE AIRHEAD MEDAL

Well played! I hope Perrine does not catch those.

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>>38499156

“You're... you're one of those Frenchies I've heard about,” Katherine breathes. “The – the – the HAREM HARLOTS!” She pulls Ian close again, burying his face in her breasts, causing his struggling to diminish as air deprivation takes its toll. “You kidnap good handsome boys and chain them up in some French harem-dungeon! YOU WON'T HAVE THIS ONE, BITCH!”

Perrine squeaks like a duck choking on an oboe for a few seconds as her rapier's tip quavers in air, before she settles on the traditional French response to logical observations – threats she can't back up. “YO- I- TH- FFFFFF- UH- CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON, YOU FUCKING WELSHRAG!”

Katherine Kent springs to her feet, her magic already glowing about her as she charges into combat sans striker. Perrine's body is wreathed in a halo of power; static charge snapping and crackling as she prepares the Tonnare, her long hair floating about her; a halo fit for an Angel of Vengeance.

And then she screams as Katherine swings her sofa.

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>>38499156
Goddamnit. Even when absent Young manages to hijack the rampage.

>>38499209
>And then she screams as Katherine swings her sofa.

>>38499209
>Perrine's body is wreathed in a halo of power; static charge snapping and crackling as she prepares the Tonnare, her long hair floating about her; a halo fit for an Angel of Vengeance.
>And then she screams as Katherine swings her sofa.

I keep on thinking it can't get any better, and I keep getting proved wrong.

I envy Sean's simple lifestyle. If he and Sakamoto ever have issues/arguments they just have a sword fight to deal with it.

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She's saved by the half-second it takes the older Witch to smash the doorframe apart; darting down the hall towards the front door so fast her terrified scream develops detectable doppler shift. Katherine is close behind, an entire two-person love-seat raised over her head like a gigantic club. You appreciate the apropos selection of weaponry – and Katherine's excellent ass; clad in tight striped panties that would shut down a major intersection in the 'States – and sigh with satisfaction as they gain the front lawn.

You find Ian lying on the floor, still catching his breath after the incident.

“Sean,” Ian rasps. “Sean, what, the, what the, what-”

“Easy,” you tell Ian, patting him on the shoulder. “It's okay, man. I gotcha. Everything will be fine.”

Ian gives you a dubious look, and jerks his thumb towards the bay window. “How in the hell-”

“Hey, man – it's ME.”

.

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Evacuate the mansion.

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>>38499264

This seems to reassure him. He slumps against the floorboards again and gives you a weary, trusting smile. “True, that. You're...” he coughs a bit, the redness still fading from his face. “If anyone alive could watch THAT and not go nuts, it's you.”

You nod companionably and give him a thumbs-up.

“So, could you maybe stop them from killing each other?” he asks hopefully.

“Sure, sure,” you reply. “Just gimme a minute, I've got to kill a fae changeling that's taken the form of my younger brother.” You hoist the horseshoe-rosary bolo and wiggle it.

“... don't look at me like that,” you grouse. “Dammit, it really is. Ask Triath!”

Ian slides his Look down to Triath, who grunts at him companionably.

“See?”

“You get your wish,” Ian says, wrapping his arms over his face. “I can't fucking look at you right now, I really can't.” He curls up on the floorboards and pulls a discarded throw-pillow over his head in despair.

Fucking Englishman. No stomach for a good fae-hunt. No wonder the Gremlins gave them hell during the Battle.

>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.
>To hell with them – THE FAE DIES NOW.

>>38499322
>>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.
Frenchies make the best bait...

>>38499281
>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.

>>38499322
>>To hell with them – THE FAE DIES NOW.

THE HUNT CONTINUES

>>38499322
>>To hell with them – THE FAE DIES NOW.
I'm sure they'll work it out. Or not.

>>38499322
>To hell with them – THE FAE DIES NOW.

>>38499322
>>To hell with them – THE FAE DIES NOW.

HELLCOW.

TO MEEEEE

>>38499322
>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.
Let's go watch a literal catfight.

>>38499322
>>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.

>>38499322
>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.

>>38499322
>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT

>>38499322
>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.

>>38499322
>To hell with them – THE FAE DIES NOW.
Haha, time to beat our brother senseless.

>>38499322
>>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.
So Frenchies are the favorite food of fae?

>>38499322
>To hell with them – THE FAE DIES NOW.

>>38499322
>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.

The greatest misery for the greatest number possible.

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>>38499113
Go away Kotters.

>>38499322
>To hell with them – THE FAE DIES NOW.

>>38499322
>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.

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>>38499322
>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.

>>38499377
nah, humans in general are, and a half dead french noble is already predrained of blood. Easy catching, easy cooking, easy eating, no way the fae son of a bitch will turn this chance down.

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>>38499322
>To hell with them – THE FAE DIES NOW.
Who cares about collateral damage when faes are on a rampage?

On the other hand, maybe we should follow the cat fight with a camera and document it for historical purposes. Maybe even arrange a mud pool.

>>38499322
>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.

>all the votes to stop the best show of the century
Norman faggots, all of you.

>>38499349
we got a pig!

>>38499457
>your post in general
I respect that you enjoy planefag's show, but I have my own desires as well.

>>38499457
It's a ticket to watch the best show of the century.

>>38499322
>We should probably go watch the fight, Perrine doesn't need to be conscious to use as bait

>>38499322
>>To hell with them – THE FAE DIES NOW.

We already trapped the damned thing. Time to finish the job with some good, cold iron.

You know, I wonder if we'll see Roy hook up with Robin. If only for the reactions and shenanigans of the Big Brothers.

>>38499481
>It's a ticket to watch the best show of the century.
This.

>>38499457
which we won't be seeing anyway, what with the fae hunting.

>>38499419
On one hand, Katherine's fought in muddy conditions before during Big Oopsie 1. On the other hand, she might have PTSD regarding mud, which would give Perrine the psychological advantage.

>>38499457
You don't let your best buddy's gf get beat up, no matter how much of a prissy bitch she is.

>>38499464

>Not wanting Hellcow AND Pig

SWINNNNNNNNNE

>>38499322
>To Hell with them - THE FAE DIES NOW

Perrine would fall to the wiles of the Sidhe as she lacks the fortitude to resist its wiles. Additionally it simply isn't smart to come between a fellow hunter and their mark. If the Fae proves easily dealt with perhaps we can assist but we are clearly the most qualified to deal with such an insidious threat.

>>38499457
It's more like we're setting up the second half of the double feature.

>>38499488
Oh lord yes

>>38499322
>>We should probably interrupt the fight – we need Perrine as BAIT.

>>38499488
I can live with this.

>>38499600
We could watch as Young vemently tries to deny to himself that he's surreptitiously trying to get his little sis laid.

>>38499727
Or we can try to disembowel the obviously fae-possessed Young for trying to foist a witchy witch upon our kid brother.

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>>38499787

VOTES ARE SO CLOSE I'M GOING TO COMBINE THEM.

WRITING

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>>38499838
WORKS FOR ME

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>>38499838

>>38499838
how on earth will you do that?

>>38499896
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HqPVigNCkY

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>>38499838
An irishman does not fear.

>>38499961
Doesn't know luck, either

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>>38499838

>>38500267
Oh, the Irish know luck. Much as they know potatoes in the middle of a famine.

>>38500267
Luck of the Irish originally a sarcastic phrase.

>>38499209
>And then she screams as Katherine swings her sofa.

A woman after my own heart. Fuck, I think I'm in love.

>>38500603
Shit, she might be the only woman who could tame you.

>>38500629

Don't you have corgies to herd?

>>38500603
I take it you also like them full-bodied? Too bad she's already married. Who knows, there might be a girl who's similar around the base.

We have arrived.

... Whoa. Triath the noble Pig-Hound. Katherine going berserk just after Perrine goes catty.

We are amazed.

>>38500677
the unbound has become unbound with its image

>>38500677
The avatar and namefag in a thread with no need of it has arrived, you mean.

>>38500603
Wait, Hate I thought you were watching Willy?

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>>38500701
>>38500747
Very well, we desist.

One last for the road, though.

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You quit the room with a snort that's almost louder than Triath's, both of you properly disgusted by the lack of faith displayed by your so-called comrade. You have here a unique combination of French, English, and Fae – and if there's one thing a good Irish boy knows how to do, it's how to fuck with all three simultaneously.

You stroll upstairs and move down the front hallway, opening windows that look over the front lawn and propping open doors so the sound of the fray below can spill into the structure proper. Then you climb to the third floor and creep out a window built into the slope of the roof, Triath crawling behind. You position yourself atop the window and crouch stealthily; ready to leap upon the fae.

Changelings love blondes – it's a known fact. Especially children; and even though 15 years old is a bit much for most; well, Perrine's stupid enough to pass. You also have a ringside seat to the Greatest Show on Earth – a literal cat-fight.

Perrine's long, lanky legs prove spry; she's darting and rolling about like an acrobat. The mighty overhead swings of an enraged, roaring Katherine Kent are certainly lending her motivation. She's swinging the love-seat around in both hands like a feather-duster, smashing huge dents in the lawn with every missed blow. The gardener is standing to one side, hopping up and down as he shakes a rake, reduced to mad pidgin gibbering in his rage. The artillery crews gathered on the lawn are watching with rapt attention; some of them studying every leap and lunge of Perrine's long, lean legs as they flex interestingly in her tight black stockings, while the majority are fixated on Katherine Kent's impressive bosom as it follows every mighty swing of the sofa with a half-second delay-jiggle; her large engine-deck flexing with rock-hard muscles as she keeps up with the much younger witch without breaking a sweat. This train's powered on rage. Awful, awful rage.

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>>38500603
>>38500807
We're doomed, Willie and the corgis are loose

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>>38500850

“HOW DARE YOU!” Katherine is screaming. “TRYING TO MOLEST MY POOR HELPLESS SON!”

Perrine freezes for almost a full second as realization dawns. You crouch upon the eaves, sniggering like a gargoyle, rubbing your hands together in unholy glee. Anticipating the shrill change of tone; the look in Perrine's eyes as she realizes how badly she's fucked up. The petite french girl seems to lean away from Kent without moving, her outline almost graying out as you sense her scrambling away from the very *thought* of what Katherine just said.

“INCEEEEEEEEEEST!” Perrine howls. “INCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEST!” Her eyes light with the fire of a holy avenger, and in a blinding blast of light she unleashes the full fell power of the Tonnere.

Just before the sofa hits her in the goddamn face.

You blink away the afterimages in time to find a crawling Perrine being pursued by a woozy Kent; who's stopping every four or five steps to re-orient on the french girl, advancing in loopy half-circles.

If the fell fae is going to move, it'll be...

… now. There he is, the beggar, creeping out a downstairs window towards the scene. Now's your chance.

>PINCER ATTACK
>I AM THE NIGHT
>BRAAAAAVEHEEAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRT

>>38500809
Ignore the hater Bentus. You're fine here.

>>38500866
[Muffled Explosions, Barking, and I'M SORRRY's in the distance]

>>38500897
>>I AM THE NIGHT

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>>38500897
>BRAAAAAVEHEEAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRT

>>38500897
>>BRAAAAAVEHEEAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRT

>>38500897
>I AM THE NIGHT
WE ARE SEANMAN, SLAYER OF FAE

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>>38500897
>I AM THE NIGHT

>>38500897
>>I AM THE NIGHT

>>38500897
>I AM THE NIGHT

>>38500897
HOLY SHIT.
>BRAAAAAVEHEEAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRT

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>>38500897
>I AM THE NIGHT
Damn you, planefag, I have finals tomorrow.

>>38500897
>I AM THE NIGHT

>>38500897
>I AM THE NIGHT
We're Oirish, not Scottish.

>>38500807

She'll be fine, I made Hornet watch her. What's the worst that could fucking happen.

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>>38500897
>>BRAAAAAVEHEEAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRT
like their is any other choice

>>38500897
>I AM THE NIGHT
OR THE DAY, AS THE CASE MAY BE.

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>>38500897
>PINCER ATTACK

>>38500897
>BRAAAAAVEHEEAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRT
is this even a choice?

>>38500993
If corgis were tanks....

>>38500897
Why not all three?

>>38500912

What amazes me about Bentus guy is, he's been following my writing since my first thread on THP, and that blows my fucking mind.

I don't think I'll ever get used to actually having readers. It's just too strange.

>>38500897
>I AM THE NIGHT
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4SpBu4DAdM

>>38500897
>I AM THE NIGHT

>>38500993
I have stolen your image, good sir.

Damn it's good.

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>>38500984
>What's the worst that could fucking happen.
>Hornet has a nuke
>And is watching Willie

>10 minures later

>>38500897
>>I AM THE NIGHT

>>38500912
Approved #swq namefags and tripfags only

This does not include fluff

>>38500976
>having that screencap as a reaction image

That's literally the first thing I did when I saw that page, too. You're good people.

>>38501044
fuck you

>>38500897
>>BRAAAAAVEHEEAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRT

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>>38500984
>What's the worst that could fucking happen.

>>38501016
It shows you're better than you think you are.
>>38501044
Haters gonna hate. I'm having a good time here.

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>>38501052
get back to work

>>38500993
>MEANWHILE, IN SWQ FRENCH INDO-CHINA

>>38501039

Since when did Hornet have nukes?! Holy fucking shit that shitbag Settle was trying to sneak THAT shit by me? Me?!

Fuck, oh man this is gonna be great. Wonder how much fucking damage one of those things could do.

CALLING IT FOR I AM THE MOTHERFUCKING NIIIIGHT

>>38501082

FUCK YOU DAD I'LL GATECAMP IN A TITAN IF I WANT TO

>>38501016
We're all actually the same person, so there.

No 4chan I am not a bot. I just command one. Muthafuckas. BRAVEHEART IS THE ONLY CHOICE. If not for captchaI might see if I can get bot to post. heh. All shit from the shout db...hmmmmm

>>38501108
The hell did you think the black arrow was, a backscratcher?

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>>38501108
I'm pretty sure Hornet has the Doolittle raid and not a nuke. Still, I probably would have tracked down Nagato and thrown Willie and Sammie at her instead. She seems to know how to deal with destroyers and such.

So, what are you doing here with the witchy sluts?

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>>38501115

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>>38501077
And faggots are going to be raging fagmotrons.

WHAT ARE YA GONNA DO?

>>38501202
I'd hit her like a nuke, if you know what I mean.

>>38501124
Buy it a 4cans pass

>>38501224
find me a straight, red blooded american male who wouldn't

>>38501202

Stalking the admiral. He gets worried if he doesn't fuckin see me or hear from me for a while. The asshole has no faith. Keeps thinking I'll try to mate a fuckin main battery gun from one of the girls to an M-16 lower.

I keep tellin him I'd have to fuckin custom fab a lower, he won't listen. Kinda hopin one of the yamato class comes back soon though, cos i mean, fuck, if I'm gonna try, I'mma try with the biggest fuckin gun i can get ahold of.

>>38501235
No. FUck That shit. Thats for twats,

>>38501273
I'd Fab Musashi's lower, if you know what I mean

>>38501273
Well, they just found the Musashi, so that's something.

>>38501273
>main battery gun from one of the girls to an M-16 lower.
This actually seems like a good idea. Then they'd be able to do something with their hands instead of just waving them about in combat.

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>>38501273
Hey, Sergeant, does the US Navy also hold practice battles between its shipsluts?

>>38501360
>Let's tear off one of the guns from a freaky spiritual ghost ship
No anon this seems like a terrible idea

>>38501273
Yo, Hate! I read somewhere that you were ditching your new rank insignia in favor for your old corporal ones since you felt the promotion was the first step in dragging you from the front to a desk job. What rank have they tried to pin on you?

>>38501407
>terrible idea
that just means it's the BEST idea and will ensure it works because reasons, planefag, /tg/, and 4chan

>>38501338
That and Musashi was found right side up. I haven't seen all the pics of it, but I think she still has her main guns still in their slots. The fact she didn't roll while sinking is amazing.

>>38501273
What do you get when you cross an orangutan with a marine?

>>38501482
an Airforce pilot

>>38501482
Another marine?

>>38501482
Navy enlisted?
Army Officer?
Amercian South Sherriff?

>>38501482

ur mum lol

>>38501477
What? Have you watched the video they released? The turrets are gone.

>>38501561
Then we know where they went, don't we Corporal Hate?

>>38501482
A Navy woman's wet dream.

>>38501334

I'd say I would too, but that fuckin shit will come back to bite me in the dick.

>>38501360

It ain't for them. What, you think I'm some Fuckin bullshit POG armorer?

>>38501386

I'll fuckin stab you.

Right, I've put in my time. Time to go find Willie before she fucks something up. Got something for the sad sack to fuckin do anyway.

>>38501482
A mentally handicapped orangutan.

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>>38501561
I hadn't see it yet. Shit, I have to go find it then. Ah well, at least it landed upright after all.

>>38501628
>something for the sad sack to fuckin do anyway
what can you possibly come up with her to do that won't result in an explosion?

>>38501687
She is now to babysit some grade schoolers on the island. She has been told they were assigned to her as her crew.

The island may burn down to bedrock, be nuked, and invaded by martians, but none of those kids will have a scratch on them.

>>38501738
You're right. They'll just all be arrested and locked up by the USMC.

>>38501775
Oorah.

>>38501775
Only if she listens to them. Willie's a good girl who got in with a bad crowd.

>>38501832
>Only if she listens to them
listening to marines is never a good idea

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>>38500897
>BRAAAAAVEHEEAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRT

>>38501775
You forgot the part where they accidentally try to assassinate the President.

>>38501933
LAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE!

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>>38501933
A little late there.

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The fiend is creeping towards the woozy women with a large dustbin in his hands, probably for carrying his victim after he's snatched them. You could always wait and ambush the fucker when he comes back in a few days to return Perrine – you can't imagine the fae are stupid enough to keep her – but there's no reason to kick the can down the road.

Young might be a stupid, insane blowhard asshole, but he IS good at what he does – and he has indeed taught you the fine art of the Bounce. Without word or warning, you must dive into the attack on the unsuspecting foeman below you. Not the hero the English want, but the one they fucking *deserve*. A silent hunter. A wrathful guardian.

A Yankee Knight.

You and Triath leap from the rooftop and into your attack.

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>>38501995
>>38502002
Can't be helped.

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>>38502014

You and superpig smash into the leafy canopy as one, ripping through the twigs and branches feet-first, angling your toes to glance off the heavier branches and breaking clean through the thin ones as you plummet through the old maple. You and Triath explode from the bottom of the canopy in a shower of shattered twigs and swirling leaves, landing on your feet and pitching into a forward roll to break the fall. Triath lands a second after you, squealing with alarm, and you pitch yourself flat beneath him, breaking the fall of his well-padded body with your own ow FUCK that smarts.

The changeling fae stands before you, staring at you with the confusion of those unused to The Night. You thrust one finger forth and with your other, you blow your bugle for all you're worth, sounding the hunting cry!

Triath rolls off your back and onto his feet before charging after the fae at a full gallop, his floppy spotted ears bouncing and jouncing eagerly as he begins the chase. You're close behind him, screaming bloody murder as you unsheathe your blade and take up pursuit.

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>>38502042

If he makes it around the house three times counter-clockwise, he'll escape to Underhill. You must put him six *feet* under peat before that happens.

Halfway around the house, Triath comes screeching to a halt, sucking up his short legs and crashing into the earth by way of breaking. He skids a few feet on the wet grass before he stops moving, and freezes; floppy ears cocked for sound. You hold your breath, trusting Traith's porcine instinct for sniffing out slop.

“-SEND EVERYONE!” a shrill voice is saying desperately. “THERE'S A FRENCH WITCH TEARING UP MY HOME, AND A YANKEE-IRISHMAN MARAUDER WITH A SWORD!”

You espy a windowsill that's open a few inches. Suspicious, you check the flowerbed beneath it and find a footprint that's changeling-sized. You peek through the window and discover a dapper older English gent wailing into a telephone.

“I PLAYED BRIDGE WITH YOUR FATHER FOR TWENTY FUCKING YEARS, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” he screams into the phone. “I STILL HAVE CONNECTIONS IN PLACES YOU CAN'T IMAGINE! I CAN RUIN. YOUR. LIFE!” The man is shivering with emotion now. “HELP ME, OR SO HELP ME GOD I'LL SHIT IN YOUR DREAMS!”

A rather irritated voice replies curtly, barely too quiet to comprehend.

“CONVINCED? YOU'RE NOT CONVINCED?” The English gent screams, growing a little hoarse now. “WHAT'S IT GONNA TAKE?”

Scanning the room, you spot the closet door behind the distraught man hanging open an inch. You caaarefully slide the window upwards, the Englishman on the phone unable to hear it over the dubious voice coming over the old-fashioned handset. Then you lean over, scoop up Triath's incredible bulk in both arms, and steel your wide-shouldered country-boy frame for the toss.

“HUP!” you hiss, waving Triath at the window. “HUP!
HOOOOOOOO!”

Oh lawdy

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Triath sails through the open window and lands with a room-shuddering THUD, his hooves gripping the fancy old carpet frimly. The changeling bursts from the closet just as you fling one leg through the window, blasting on your bugle to sound the charge anew.

The Englishman is simply thrusting the handset at you while pointing violent with his free hand, as if his conversation partner can see the gesture.

You hear your bloodhog oinking loudly at the other end of the house, and round the hallway corner just in time to see Triath slamming through the bottom half of the back door so hard the wooden panel is simply shattered by his thick skull. Skidding in the wet grass outside, you see the changeling waiting for you by another obsolete artillery piece, one the crews hadn't even set up yet before running to witness the catfight. You charge him, sounding alarums on your bugle, your broadsword out and waving Triath into the charge.

Then the cheeky sonofabitch kicks the chocks out from the cannon's wheel. As it begins to roll down a gentle slope, you feel something catch your foot and quite promptly you're flying through the air.

>RIDE THE DRAGON
>I HAVE A SWORD, YOUR TRAP IS INVALID

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>>38502068
>If he makes it around the house three times counter-clockwise, he'll escape to Underhill.

>>38502114
>RIDE THE DRAGON
It's confirmed, Young's madness is contagious.
It's gotten Sean, probably spread to the witches, and warps Barin to this day.

>>38502114
>>I HAVE A SWORD, YOUR TRAP IS INVALID

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>>38502114


>RIDE THE DRAGON

>>38502114
>>RIDE THE DRAGON
>>I HAVE A SWORD, YOUR TRAP IS INVALID
yup, ride the dragon while sword waving to catch the bastard

>>38502114
>I HAVE A SWORD, YOUR TRAP IS INVALID

>>38502114
>>I HAVE A SWORD, YOUR TRAP IS INVALID
Do the Sakamoto!

>>38502114
>>RIDE THE DRAGON

>>38502114
>>I HAVE A SWORD, YOUR TRAP IS INVALID

YOU AREN'T GETTING AWAY THAT EASY

>>38502114
>RIDE THE DRAGON
It started out perfect and it just got better.

>>38502114
>RIDE THE DRAGON
>I HAVE A SWORD, YOUR TRAP IS INVALID
It's all or nothing!

>>38502114
>>RIDE THE DRAGON

>>38502114
>RIDE THE DRAGON
We're powerful beast master, no metal ride is going to scare us.

Unless it's a drone B-17, that is.

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>>38502114
>RIDE THE DRAGON

>>38502114
>RIDE THE DRAGON

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>>38502159
>>38502196
We're attached to the cannon, numbnuts. We can't do both; "Ride The Dragon" means riding the cannon down to the bottom of the hill, "I have a sword" means cutting ourselves free and resuming the chase.

>>38502114
I HAVE A SWORD, YOUR TRAP IS INVALID
NOT SO FAST, FOUL FAE

>>38502114
>>RIDE THE DRAGON
I AM THE DRAGON!!!
MY BREATH IS FLAME! MY VOICE IS THUNDER! MY SWING IS DEATH! TREMBLE BEFORE ME!

>>38502231

While I'm pleased you figured out the vote, I find your trust in the character's capacity for logic charming.

>>38502114
>>I HAVE A SWORD, YOUR TRAP IS INVALID

>>38502231
We can ride the cannon and use it to chase the fae with our sword.

You know, the standard operating procedure.

Duh.

>>38502114
RIDE.THE.MOTHERFUCKING.DRAGON> PLanebot agrees!!!

BOT HATH SPOKEN!

>>38502114
>>I HAVE A SWORD, YOUR TRAP IS INVALID

foul fae shall not escape usssss

i have so missed swq tier shenaningans

>>38502252
>>38502259
Cannon Heavy.

Cannon goes down hill.

Fae stays at top of hill.

We cannot use cannon to chase fae.

>>38502252
I trust that even if we ride the dragon, the sword will see action

>>38502302
>Not using cannon shot as propulsion

Your lack of gnome is disturbing.

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>OTHER
RIDE THE DRAGON TO THE TOP THEN CUT OURSELVES FREE SO WE ARE LAUNCHED STRAIGHT TO THE FAE

>>38502302
>We cannot use cannon to chase fae
Lies! we are a gnome master of WEAPONS. If we want it to go uphill, it will because sparkle bullshit.

RIDING THE GODDAMN DRAGON IT IS, WOO HOO

>>38502347
GODDAMMIT WE'RE GONNA DIE

>>38502391
OH YE OF LITTLE FAITH!

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>>38502391
We'll be fine.

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>>38500912
The Unbound appreciate your support.

>>38501016
To be fair, at the time I was but a Tradeship.I thought appropriate to "level up" with the passing time.

But yes, I do enjoy your writing quite a bit.

It helps that I share the long, long memory of the Unbound. Where others might I forgotten, I remembered.

I also seem to have the interesting quirk of always finding myself reminiscing over your tales a day or two before your came back to them.

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>>38502347
YES

>>38502430
THP?

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You reach out and manage to catch Triath by one of his hind legs as you're flipped upside down by the snare 'round your boot. Triath must weigh a zillion pounds; his front feet don't even leave the ground. The tree the snare-rope's anchored in is no seventy-footer, and with the added weight of bloodhog added it keeps your arc of ascent low. Very low. In fact, with Triath's hoof in your stern grip, you're actually flying OVER the ground more than you're flying upwards towards the tree. You bellow with glee, waving your sword at the changeling, and release Triath at just the right time. Before the fae can run for it, you slam into him and catch him, wrapping your arms about his torso as you both fly up into the tree.

A few woozy seconds later, you discover yourself hanging upside-down in the thick of the canopy. Your broadsword is still in your hand, the basket-hilt having caught the heel of your hand before falling. Above you, you see someone's thoughtfully added a thick stick to the rope just shy of the snare, so you wouldn't snap your foot off upon encountering the fork in the tree's trunk where the rope was laid.

Looking up – well, down – you discover the wicked fae hanging onto a branch a foot or two below you. He's staring you in the eyes, and he looks displeased.

“YOU. STUPID. IMPULSIVE. FUCK. HEAD,” he says – doesn't shout – says in audible Capital Letters. “WHY. DON'T. YOU. THINK.”

>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.
>WE DO NOT NEGOTIATE WITH FAE.

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>>38502347
YES!

>>38502504
I do wonder where our Keinefag is. He did swear to remind planefag of AWiY every thread.

It refers to the Touhou-Project image board, where planefag first wrote his tales as Demetrious.

>>38502551
>>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>>38502551
>>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>>38502551
>>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.
Yup, we drive it all home

>>38502551
>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITTLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>>38502551
>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>>38502551
>>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

I don't think we're quite Young-tier bugfuck- yet- but we are rather irate.

>>38502551
>WE DO NOT NEGOTIATE WITH FAE.
DO NOT LET IT SPEAK. IT WILL BEWITCH YOU WITH ITS SILVER TONGUE.

>>38502551
>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>>38502551
>>WE DO NOT NEGOTIATE WITH FAE.

>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>>38502551
>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

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>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>>38502608
Quite irate.

>>38502551
>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.
We cannot pull a Young.
We must put aside our insanity, and tear our younger brother to pieces, we must face the truth! We will not hide and cry like Young!
We will call our younger sibling an idiot, and use our powers to destroy his military career if that's what it takes!
Or we'll drag him to Barin after we gnaw his ears off and hook him up with Robin!

>>38502551
>>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.
I can say as a younger brother that doing stupid things IS something we can do very well.

VOTE CALLED BECAUSE OF OVERWHELMING TREND

BUT FEEL FREE TO PISS INTO THE WIND IF YOU WANT AFTER THIS POST THAT'S COOL TOO

>>38502671
>I DONT NEGOTIATE WITH QM'S

>>38502551
>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPARENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>>38502647

I can say as an older brother TRUST US WE KNOW.

>>38502641
the worst fate for him!

>>38502671
voting to piss in the wind. the fae do not like urine upon the breeze, nor little brothers piddle upon their heads.

>>38502682
speaking of which, where is the mouse? I have not heard from him in ages.

>>38502682
It is the responsibility of the younger sibling to do dumb shit, and it is the responsibility of the older sibling to make sure they don't kill themselves doing it.

>>38502682
Granted, my older bother is EQUALLY capable of pulling stupid shit just as often as me.

>>38502682
As both younger AND elder, I concur.

>>38502705
Unfortunately, I did find myself making sure my elder brother didn't kill himself doing something stupid at least once.

I cannot concur with that.

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>>38502671

>>38502641
Robin would break him! she played football!

>>38502700
Hiding from you. Honestly, can't say I blame him.

>TANKS WHEN MOUSE
and
>stupid lewd shit all the fucking time!

Christ, if I were him I'd have gone innawoods and never come back.

>>38502736
all the better! this is a punishment, not a reward for him!

>>38502551
>>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>>38502682

Bring Maus to heel, bring Maus to heel.

>>38502736
At some cushy witch academy!

>>38502551
>>NICE TRY CHANGELING, BUT IF YOU WERE REALLY MY LITTLE BROTHER, YOU WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT AFTER APPERENTLY FUCKING LYING ABOUT YOUR AGE AND SIGNING UP, WOULD YOU? BECAUSE MY LITLE BROTHER, BLESS HIS SOUL, WAS FUCKING SMART, AND YOU ARE DUMB.

>>38502744

He and I are talking about doing a thru-hike of the AT or CDT next year. So kinda!

>>38502790
Good to hear then.

>>38502671
I shall unleash the mighty storm from my pants.
Wake the slumbering world serpent and tame the wind with the might of its torrent.
ODICKFORCE!

>>38502782
yeees keep going!

>>38502790
Bring extra food and water (ALWAYS). Sounds like fun though. Been too long since my last hike.

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>>38502812

>>38502814
Can't, don't know what or where Robin's school is.

>>38502849
>my penis is so huge, when I piss into the wind, I win
>vague Marvel reference

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>>38502903
Oh I got it.

>>38502850
make it up

>>38502835
or you could just bring a Kuntala

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“HA!” you exclaim. “Nice try, you silver-tongued changeling fuckwaffle. But you can't possibly be my little brother.”

“Because I just kicked your ass?”

“No, no,” you say smoothly. “Because my little brother is clever, and quick, and understands irony, so he'd never accuse me of being impulsive after having LIED ABOUT HIS FUCKING AGE TO ENLIST EVEN THOUGH HIS WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY TOLD HIM NOT TO FUCKING DO THAT!”

The changeling blinks. “Um.”

You reach out and SEIZE that son-of-a-bitch, hoisting him up to look you eye-to-inverted-eye. “AND MY LITTLE BROTHER, ROY MOTHERFUCKING ROARKE, IS A BRAVE SON OF OUR CLAN AND A BOXER OF PROMISE AND RENOWN WHO WINS ALL HIS ROUNDS *WITHOUT* MIMICKING OTHERS, *WITHOUT* PARALASIS STINGS AND WITHOUT A METRIC ASSFUCKTON OF FUCKING OVERPOWERED FANCY-SHMANCY FAE *BULLSHIT!*”

>>38503276
HA!

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>>38503276

The fell creature seizes your ears and slams your forehead into his chin so your eyeballs are almost touching. “Only because Ma would've muuuuurdered me if I used my true power,” he hisses, “but Ma ain't here, and if you fuck with me, you musclebound badgerfucking sheepwanker, I'll string you up from BIG FUCKING BEN!”

“B-”

“LOOK INTO MY EYES,” he says in allcaps again.

“B-”

“ARE YOU LOOKING?”

“Fuck y-”

“CAN YOU SEE THE LONG-AWAITED VENGEANCE INSIDE?”

You're about to punch him in the jaw with the basket-hilt when the only possible thing on earth that could disrupt your conversation comes skirling up through the leaves.

Bagpipes.

>>38503307
>wut

>>38503307
>Bagpipes

FILTHY SCOOOOOOOOOTS

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>>38503307

https://www.youtube.co/watch?v=vBKBI7DOLHA

A quick slash of your broadsword clears enough vegetation to reveal the source – a jeep winding up the country lane behind the house. The hedgerow enclosing the big manor has a small gate opening to a path which leads to what looks like a family crypt surrounded by associated flowerbeds, and the Jeep promptly stops at near it. Two men spring from the machine, hop the low fence and come charging up the lane at double-time; one swinging a Bren gun and the trailing man playing them in on his bagpipes – and he's pretty good, too.

And they're both wearing kilts.

You and Roy turn your faces back to one another.

“You seeing this? Tell me you're seeing this shit.”

“I am seeing this shit,” you confirm.

The lead man kicks in the rickety wrought-iron gate; more decorative then substantive, and takes a stance on the corner of the lawn, his Bren gun trained at the house. He nods to his piper, who finishes his stanza, then falls silent.

“ALL RIGHT, YOU RAMPAGING YANKEE MADMAN AND YOUR PORCINE PESTILINCE!” he bellows, a booming bass voice that rings with authority. “THEY CALL ME SHIMI MACSHIMIDAH, ALSO KNOWN AS SIMON CHRISTOPHER, LORD OF LOVAT, BARON BESIDES, CHIEF OF CLAN FRASER, AND IF YOU DON'T COME OUTTA THERE WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR, I'LL SEND YA TO EISENHOWER IN A MATCHBOX, YOU READ ME!?” His eyes are blazing, and from his expression you can tell he makes no idle threat.

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>>38503307
>Bagpipes.
Jack is back!

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>>38503307
>Bagpipes.

IT!
IS!
ON!

>>38503348
>LORD OF LOVAT

Properly speaking, the title is "The Lord Lovat". No 'of'.

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“FAG LOURDE OF DE LOO~” Roy mutters.

“CHIEFTAN OF CLAN FRAIDYCAT. HOW,” you snort in reply, and reach out towards the rope, where it wraps around the trunk to angle towards the tethered cannon. You begin tapping it with the tip.

Lourde Fag of Fraser is quick to notice the thrumming rope, and his piper and he slowly follow the rope up to the tree with their eyes, before slowly sliding over to discover you and Roy. You both wave cheerfully.

“OI OI NICE OF YOU TO VIST OL CHAPS,” Roy says with a wave. “TWELVE BONG AND ALLA THAT, QUITE TIME FOR THE TEA-TIPPIN OI OI?” he pantomines a teacup to the flat stares of the two soldiers.

“RIGHTO, RIGHTO, RUBBISH AND ALL THAT ROHWT,” you chime in, “PRAY TELL US FELLOWS, FOR WE'RE JUST A BIT TEENY MITE CURIOUS, ARE YOU RAGING FAGLOURDES FOR FUCKING REAL?”

“... did that yank just call us gay boys?” the piper asks in slightly accented Scots Gaelic.

“Look who's talking,” the Bren gunner replies, also in Scots Gaelic. “He's holdin that other chap close enough to-”

“Two gay yanks, sittin in a tree,” the piper comments, “KAY I ESS ESS I EN GEE,” they drop their voices to whisper the English spelling.

You and Roy exchange a glance.

“Shall I?”

“Be my guest,” you say with a dramatic flourish of the sword.

Roy clears his throat as you drop him onto his branch again. He dangles from one armpit to free his diaprham from any constraining pressure and sucks in a deep lungful.

“SORRY,” he screams in Irish Gaelic. “COULDN'T QUITE UNDERSTAND YOUR GAELIC, MUST'VE BEEN THE HAGGIS SAUSAGE IN YER MOUTHS!”

You give the soldiers a polite little inverted salute, and then you slash through the snare – and the restraining branch – in one blow.

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>>38503394

Oh, right, I forgot the quinessential Scottish refrain; similar to the English refrain: "God, we USED to have property."

forgive the ethnocentric yankee, for God will not

>>38503419
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VOvDTCbcHe0

>>38503419
I'm terrified, but curious.
Planefag's quest are more horrifying than actual horror games.

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NEXT TIME ON STRIKE WITCHES QUEST: EXIT, PURSUED BY A CANNON!

SWQ WILL RESUME MONDAY OR TUESDAY, WITH SHIPSLUTS PROBABLY ON WEDNESDAY OR THURSDAY. I HAVE TO WORK IN FIVE HOURS BUT FUCK THE POLICE THIS THREAD WAS AMAZING FUN TO WRITE I LOVE YOU GUYS HOLY SHIT