Strike Witches episode 5: Building Better Mousetraps

[Rupudska]

1 March 2012
USS Charlotte E. Yeager
Bass Strait, 110 km north of Tasmania
1:30 PM

The Bass Strait was showing its typically bad side today. A sudden thunderstorm had engulfed most of the strait, and it would soon reach hurricane strength; It had long since reached tropical storm. As a result of this storm, the Witches, as well as the engineers, had to stay inside the carrier today. And very few were happy about it. The entire ship rocked ominously in the surf. Windspeeds had been measured recently at about 60 miles per hour, and the Yeager was heading for Hobart in Tasmania to wait things out.

Belowdecks, Ruya was reclining in her seat in the ship's ready room, which was mostly empty. No flights were scheduled for at least the next four days, it was too dangerous with the storm. At the moment, the only sound was the splash of the water against the ship, the roar of the wind (Which could even be heard inside the ship), and an odd crackling sound that faded in and out every half-minute or so. It sounded almost like lightning, but at the same time, it wasn't. Very curious.

[Tuthina]

Despite being effectively sealed inside a metal can for days without any flight, or even a sunny day where one can run on the deck without the fear of being washed off the ship or enjoy a natural shower, Nerka still seemed to be pretty excited by the fact that they were sailing on the sea - something that the landlocked Mongolia could not provide her. Today, like usual, the rookie peeked excitedly through the small round window by the walls of the common room towards the stormy seas. While it was hard to see a thing, the fact that she could feel the ship being swung by the storm and the waves still seem to be enough to get her interest. However, despite the enthusiasm, she was decidedly not used to being in a ship in a turbulent circumstances, as another wave almost threw herself towards the bolted table nearby. The somewhat pale face of her showed that her seasick since the first hour on the ship was not completely gone, either.

[Imota]

Beatrice sat in a corner of the common room, re-reading a letter that had arrived from home and had been given to her when they had reached Melbourne. Among other things, her younger sister Tabitha had manifested her powers and, like her, had been accepted into training at San Diego. It also appeared that her parents had completely misinterpreted her relationship with Abigail. Her mother had included an admonition to "keep duty and romance separate". While her father appeared to be more supportive, he had expressed his doubts about a relationship between an officer and an enlisted girl working out.

"Geez, Mom, Dad, it's not like that," she said to herself as she continued to read.

[San-Silvacian]

"{{Look! Its like living in Moscow, but without the vodka, how bland.}}"

"{{Can't you shut your yap for five seconds?}}"

"{{Go to hell you old man.}}"

"{{Old man?! God D-whatever...ungrateful child, remember that I'm your primary engineer.}}"

Tatyana huffed and shook her head. "{{I understand how my own crap works!}}" She growled and kept walking down the hallway, mumbling at him. He smiled, waving at her and she shook her head, walking faster away from the 6'7 engineer who laughed more. She turned, "{{Lets do what we were going to do, tour this Western ship so we know where to go!}}" Boris nodded and walked steadily behind her, she wanted to know where the briefing room was, common, and a number of other spaces. They're feet thudded against the metal floor of the carrier's below decks, sometimes working in pace with the storm above.

The two were dressed sloppy, Boris was in his engineer uniform, though it was wrinkled and tattered with oil stains. Tatyana was dressed in pants and a shirt, her pilots jacket, printed in bright yellow Cyrillic was the information of her former squadron:

"1st Strike Witch Squadron
Orussian Angels
Yellow Flight Lead
Tatyana Nesterov"

She also had a hat on with a Su-37 nose shot on it, it wouldn't take much to notice that she was great fan of her nation's aircraft and there was little room to fight her over it. She turned a corner, the lumbering engineer following her, she placed her hand on a door, slowly opening it. "{{Ready Room.}}" She mumbled. "{{You're room.}}" Boris said back, leaving her to her lonesome as he walked, going to find the aircraft bay.

Tatyana looked around the room, looking to the woman sitting not to far from her, she approached her, and stood. "Hello, do you know where the flight lead is? I'm Technical Sergeant Tatyana Nesterov, newest Strike Witch."

[Hetland 2]

Maria sat next to her strikers, leaning against them for support. She had a bottle of scotch in hand and several bottles of various hard liquor at her feet. She stared at the contents of the liquid with clear, sober eyes. "Twenty years old. Heh. Happy birthday to me..." She didn't feel particularly in the mood to party or anything. She just wanted some peace and quiet. No noise. No witches. Just twenty year old her and her strikers. She felt a tear roll down her cheek. "Ya know Lunatic... Somedays I don't think I'm going to make it out alive of those flights. Isn't it strange? I've finally found something to fight for. But..." She shook her head slowly. "Never mind." She finished the half full scotch and gathered up the bottles.

Hick.

[Agritum]

"Colonel, Trinity is still alive!"
The sound of machine gun fire could be heard in the carrier's arcade room, along with highly operatic music. From a nearby monitor an entirely black Pak-Fa could be seen, frantically shotting at a missile directed against the home of the Liberion president: the White House.

With some effort, the fighter managed to send the missile flying into a nearby river and generating a massive shockwave.
Then, the image suddenly froze, as a screen indicating that the game was now in pause appeared on the monitor.

Matilde looked at the television in the Arcade in a bored way, before finally exiting the game and returning to the main menu of the console. "I wonder why the bad guys are always Orussians, rogue or not." she tought outloud, scrolling in a sheepish manner through the various menues of the console.

Due to the ongoing storm, playing online was basically impossible. With no multiplayer, Matilde had replayed the single player campaign a bit, in order to kill some time.
She had already shot down that Markov dude a couple of times, and didn't really want to continue doing it.
"Can't this annoying storm end? I wanted to bomb Paris a little, today!"

[Wolfenium]

Hangar

Standing at a dark corer of the storage area was Svetlana, dressed in a white nightgown as her eyes stared up the isles, fixed at a single crate stashed high atop the stacks. The letters in Cyrillic clearly marked the very MiG-31 she had been silently waiting for its revival. Ever since she first got to the 501st, she had never gotten another chance to use her mother's striker pack. The accumulated damage it had endured had left the equipment unusable. Since, she had been patiently hoping for the engineers to bring it back into shape. Sadly, the person she had relied on the most, 1st Lieutenant Fei, had yet to fulfil on that promise.

"Mother..." she whispered to herself, "when can you fly with me again?..."

However, before she could ponder further, she heard the ping of glass bottles ringing from a corner. As she edged her way through the maze of crates, she cane across a very familiar sight.

Maria sat next to her strikers, leaning against them for support. She had a bottle of scotch in hand and several bottles of various hard liquor at her feet. She stared at the contents of the liquid with clear, sober eyes. "Twenty years old. Heh. Happy birthday to me..." She didn't feel particularly in the mood to party or anything. She just wanted some peace and quiet. No noise. No witches. Just twenty year old her and her strikers. She felt a tear roll down her cheek. "Ya know Lunatic... Somedays I don't think I'm going to make it out alive of those flights. Isn't it strange? I've finally found something to fight for. But..." She shook her head slowly. "Never mind." She finished the half full scotch and gathered up the bottles.

Hick.

"What are you doing here, Corporal Lucinda," Svetlana questioned, rubbing her eyes as she watched Maria pick up her liquor. Glancing down at the bottles scattered around, a hint of disapproval flashed across her eyes. Picking up a half=filled bottle by the neck, the Orussian kept her eyes away, disappointment showing at her hidden face.

"Those depressants are like a poison," she uttered in a despondent tone, "they intoxicate both the mind and body. Just because you have better health than me doesn't give you an incentive to drug yourself so much. You can't change what has already been, and you know it. Drowning yourself in alcohol won't correct that."

---

Arcade
"You still replaying that mindless flight shooter, Drill Sergeant?" went another, more snide voice nearby, "what is it again? Some 'Assault Horizon'? Seriously, aren't you a bit tired of flying?"

Sitting in front of a desk was Adela, her eyes fixed on the monitor of her laptop. Like Matilde, she too was simply passing the time playing video games. In contrast,the noblewoman had a taste for grand strategy, even if it was on a PC console. Staring at a risk-like map of Europe, she looked unusually focused as she clicked through the various windows and options. Graphics-wise, the game paled in comparison to Matilde's combat flight simulation, with only portraits and models of various medieval characters in view. However, Adela's game relied more on a facet of life her ancient dynasty was very familiar with - feudal politics.

As she intermittently paused and played the timer and shifted her token-like armies on the map, she quipped, "in any case, what's the point of replaying a single player campaign if all you're going to do is go through the same exact story. I prefer a game that lets me make the tale on my own. Too bad the Drăculeşti (the name of Adela's noble house) never came up as a real dynasty until after the end of the game's timer."

[Agritum]

Hangar

Standing at a dark corer of the storage area was Svetlana, dressed in a white nightgown as her eyes stared up the isles, fixed at a single crate stashed high atop the stacks. The letters in Cyrillic clearly marked the very MiG-31 she had been silently waiting for its revival. Ever since she first got to the 501st, she had never gotten another chance to use her mother's striker pack. The accumulated damage it had endured had left the equipment unusable. Since, she had been patiently hoping for the engineers to bring it back into shape. Sadly, the person she had relied on the most, 1st Lieutenant Fei, had yet to fulfil on that promise.

"Mother..." she whispered to herself, "when can you fly with me again?..."

However, before she could ponder further, she heard the ping of glass bottles ringing from a corner. As she edged her way through the maze of crates, she cane across a very familiar sight.

Maria sat next to her strikers, leaning against them for support. She had a bottle of scotch in hand and several bottles of various hard liquor at her feet. She stared at the contents of the liquid with clear, sober eyes. "Twenty years old. Heh. Happy birthday to me..." She didn't feel particularly in the mood to party or anything. She just wanted some peace and quiet. No noise. No witches. Just twenty year old her and her strikers. She felt a tear roll down her cheek. "Ya know Lunatic... Somedays I don't think I'm going to make it out alive of those flights. Isn't it strange? I've finally found something to fight for. But..." She shook her head slowly. "Never mind." She finished the half full scotch and gathered up the bottles.

Hick.

"What are you doing here, Corporal Lucinda," Svetlana questioned, rubbing her eyes as she watched Maria pick up her liquor. Glancing down at the bottles scattered around, a hint of disapproval flashed across her eyes. Picking up a half=filled bottle by the neck, the Orussian kept her eyes away, disappointment showing at her hidden face.

"Those depressants are like a poison," she uttered in a despondent tone, "they intoxicate both the mind and body. Just because you have better health than me doesn't give you an incentive to drug yourself so much. You can't change what has already been, and you know it. Drowning yourself in alcohol won't correct that."

---

Arcade
"You still replaying that mindless flight shooter, Drill Sergeant?" went another, more snide voice nearby, "what is it again? Some 'Assault Horizon'? Seriously, aren't you a bit tired of flying?"

Sitting in front of a desk was Adela, her eyes fixed on the monitor of her laptop. Like Matilde, she too was simply passing the time playing video games. In contrast,the noblewoman had a taste for grand strategy, even if it was on a PC console. Staring at a risk-like map of Europe, she looked unusually focused as she clicked through the various windows and options. Graphics-wise, the game paled in comparison to Matilde's combat flight simulation, with only portraits and models of various medieval characters in view. However, Adela's game relied more on a facet of life her ancient dynasty was very familiar with - feudal politics.

As she intermittently paused and played the timer and shifted her token-like armies on the map, she quipped, "in any case, what's the point of replaying a single player campaign if all you're going to do is go through the same exact story. I prefer a game that lets me make the tale on my own. Too bad the Drăculeşti (the name of Adela's noble house) never came up as a real dynasty until after the end of the game's timer."

"I respect your opinion, Țepeș. Still, I prefer a story written by professional writers and with clearly defined characters, instead of your funny but not very deep sandbox games." Matilde quipped, turning to Adela.
"Anyways, while this particular game isn't very realistic, I find it quite entertaining, even If i'm starting of get bored of replaying the campaign. And yes, I like flying, even simulating it. You know, while in my Striker I can directly feel the wind against my skin and fight the Neuroi in a more personal manner, I'm still fascinated by conventional aircrafts. Afterall, our strikers are designed to look like them, aren't they?"

[Rupudska]

A loud CRACK announced the strike of lightning just a few hundred yards to starboard of the carrier, almost striking the next nearest ship in the fleet, the FNS Atago, a missile destroyer which was a fair amount newer than the Nimitz Block II Yeager. Two more cracks of lightning struck within the next second, one near the HMAS Ballarat, to port, and one near the FNS Myoko, directly behind the Yeager. These strikes were unusually loud, so much so that they seemed to shake the entire fleet. About four seconds after the sound of the last strike died away, a fourth, still more powerful strike, happened about a mile ahead of the four ships, almost directly in front of the HMS Vengeance boomer. Panicked voices over the radio (Which Ruya had been listening to) announced that the Vengeance had detected another submarine in the water. Something much, much bigger than the Yeager. In fact, it was bigger than all the ships in the fleet combined. But as quickly as the panic began, it ended - something much more frightening was happening.

Why can't I hear the storm anymore, Ruya thought. In fact, it was hard to hear anything, it was as if someone had pressed the mute button on the entire world. She rushed towards the nearest window giving a view towards the front of the ship, and nearly fell over with shock. Exactly one mile ahead of the Vengeance, a bluish-green light was arcing towards the center of the fleet. It stopped less than five hundred feet above the still-rough seas, then seemed to expand into an enormous dome, that covered the entire fleet, and from what little below the waterline Ruya could see, it seemed to form a bubble that went underwater as well. All remained silent for about a second, then a blinding flash of light filled the dome, filled the fleet, filled Ruya's eyes to the point where she screamed and fell backwards, feeling as if she was simultaneously being pulled by a giant current and squeezed from all angles.

June 11, 1945
Tyrrhenian Sea
1:33 PM

As Ruya cautiously stood up, she awoke to sea that the entire fleet had been transported out of the storm. Or, at least, that's what it looked like. The sky was flat as glass, and the sky was cloudless. She heard more chatter on the radio, chatter that completely baffled her.

Unidentified vessels, this is the USS Missouri. State your name, nationality and affiliation, or we will be forced to open fire.

[Imota]

Beatrice looked up. Something wasn't right. She wasn't sure exactly what, but something, whatever it was, wasn't right.

Then it hit her. The sounds of the storm had disappeared. Now, instead of the sounds of the wind and the rain and the thunder, there was just the normal hum of machinery. She stood up.

"Nerka?" she asked, "what can you see outside? I can't hear the storm anymore."

[San-Silvacian]

"{{God-what the hell!}}"

Tatyana had fallen to the floor, the light, the absence of sound, and the feelings of pain had forced her too. She was dazed as he stood back up, Boris opened the door. "{{What happened?!}}" He asked, looking at the dizzy Orussian. "{{I...I have no idea, the storm though...its gone.}}" She said, pointing outside the porthole window, Boris walked upto it and peeled his eyes, shaking his head. "{{What the...}}" He mumbled, he then took note of the chatter, it was jumbled and chaotic, he shook his head again, turning to Tatyana, he looked at her. "{{Lets stay in here, I have a bad feeling that somethings about to happen.}}" Tatyana nodded in response, the two moved up to the portholes, looking outside.

"{{I've never seen surface ships fire their main battery before, just a few training missiles and rockets.}}" Boris said silently, "{{And those were older ships that had mostly guns on them, I've heard that some Western vessels have completely removed guns and cannons for nothing but hundreds of missiles, if anything happens, it should be quick and painless.}}" Boris said, sighing lightly.

"{{Should be.}}"

[Hetland 2]

Maria completely oblivious to the scene outside waggled her finger at Svetlana. "Don't tell me what I can or can't do! Its my birthday and I'm off duty." Maria's face seemed to become redder as she grabbed another beer from the cooler behind Lunatic and downed it and another in rapid succession. No mistaking it now. Maria was drunk.

[Wolfenium]

Hangar

Maria completely oblivious to the scene outside waggled her finger at Svetlana. "Don't tell me what I can or can't do! Its my birthday and I'm off duty." Maria's face seemed to become redder as she grabbed another beer from the cooler behind Lunatic and downed it and another in rapid succession. No mistaking it now. Maria was drunk.

Seizing a beer bottle out of Maria's reach, the Orussian bore a stern look on her face, hissing, "I think you had enough for one night. Putting it aside, she began trying to lift the drunkard up. However, even by body sizes alone, Svetlana had an incredibly difficult time. But just a few steps down, she felt the floor below her shudder violently below her. Collapsing on the ground, she blurted in a stunned tone, "wha- what's happening to the ship?"

---

Arcade

Arcade
"You still replaying that mindless flight shooter, Drill Sergeant?" went another, more snide voice nearby, "what is it again? Some 'Assault Horizon'? Seriously, aren't you a bit tired of flying?"

Sitting in front of a desk was Adela, her eyes fixed on the monitor of her laptop. Like Matilde, she too was simply passing the time playing video games. In contrast,the noblewoman had a taste for grand strategy, even if it was on a PC console. Staring at a risk-like map of Europe, she looked unusually focused as she clicked through the various windows and options. Graphics-wise, the game paled in comparison to Matilde's combat flight simulation, with only portraits and models of various medieval characters in view. However, Adela's game relied more on a facet of life her ancient dynasty was very familiar with - feudal politics.

As she intermittently paused and played the timer and shifted her token-like armies on the map, she quipped, "in any case, what's the point of replaying a single player campaign if all you're going to do is go through the same exact story. I prefer a game that lets me make the tale on my own. Too bad the Drăculeşti (the name of Adela's noble house) never came up as a real dynasty until after the end of the game's timer."

"I respect your opinion, Țepeș. Still, I prefer a story written by professional writers and with clearly defined characters, instead of your funny but not very deep sandbox games." Matilde quipped, turning to Adela.
"Anyways, while this particular game isn't very realistic, I find it quite entertaining, even If i'm starting of get bored of replaying the campaign. And yes, I like flying, even simulating it. You know, while in my Striker I can directly feel the wind against my skin and fight the Neuroi in a more personal manner, I'm still fascinated by conventional aircrafts. Afterall, our strikers are designed to look like them, aren't they?"

"Sure, if you want to put it that way," Adela mused, "I don't really care about flying either way. I'm much more interested in combat than simply drifting in the sky. Mind you, not just any kind of combat would satisfy me. I'm a more... hands-on person."

However, like Svetlana, her words were quickly interrupted as the ship began shaking. Hugging her laptop as she gripped the fixed furniture, she growled in a petty tone, "god, I hate this storm. What the hell are we caught in!? A cyclone!?"

As the scene around them shuddered with incredible intensity, the Dacian soon found herself tripping on the ground, the furniture around her crashing to the floor. But just as soon as it started, the rocking stopped, peering outside at the shining sun, from the window, she quipped, "huh? That was fast. Sunny day already?"

Despite the seemingly innocent tone, Adela had a strange feeling about the situation. It was not just the fact that the weather changed so drastically. Rather, she could not help but shake off the uneasiness over the whole scene. Something just looks... retro with the scene...

[Tuthina]

Beatrice looked up. Something wasn't right. She wasn't sure exactly what, but something, whatever it was, wasn't right.

Then it hit her. The sounds of the storm had disappeared. Now, instead of the sounds of the wind and the rain and the thunder, there was just the normal hum of machinery. She stood up.

"Nerka?" she asked, "what can you see outside? I can't hear the storm anymore."

Apparently, the sudden stop of both the waves and the wind baffled Nerka too, as she stood straight again after being thrown towards the table by the waves that no longer existed.

"Um... yes, Lance Corporal!" After a confused response, the rookie moved to the window again and looked towards outside. From the initial reaction, it seemed that she was surprised by what she saw again, as she reported it to Beatrice. "Um... The storm is gone? It looks like that we are sailing on a boundless blue plane, and the sky is... beautifully clean."

[Imota]

Beatrice looked up. Something wasn't right. She wasn't sure exactly what, but something, whatever it was, wasn't right.

Then it hit her. The sounds of the storm had disappeared. Now, instead of the sounds of the wind and the rain and the thunder, there was just the normal hum of machinery. She stood up.

"Nerka?" she asked, "what can you see outside? I can't hear the storm anymore."

Apparently, the sudden stop of both the waves and the wind baffled Nerka too, as she stood straight again after being thrown towards the table by the waves that no longer existed.

"Um... yes, Lance Corporal!" After a confused response, the rookie moved to the window again and looked towards outside. From the initial reaction, it seemed that she was surprised by what she saw again, as she reported it to Beatrice. "Um... The storm is gone? It looks like that we are sailing on a boundless blue plane, and the sky is... beautifully clean."

Beatrice blinked.

"Thank you, private," she said after a brief pause. From where she was standing, she could also see that the weather outside was very nice. It didn't look at all that it had been storming not five minutes ago.

"This...I'm gonna go look for Maria. Someone's got to know what's going on. This is just weird." She exited the common room and made her way to the hangar.

[Tuthina]

Beatrice blinked.

"Thank you, private," she said after a brief pause. From where she was standing, she could also see that the weather outside was very nice. It didn't look at all that it had been storming not five minutes ago.

"This...I'm gonna go look for Maria. Someone's got to know what's going on. This is just weird." She exited the common room and made her way to the hangar.

"You, you are welcome, Lance Corporal!" Nerka replied quickly, as she looked at Beatrice walking out of the common room and towards the hanger. Indeed, in the light of such a strange event, there were nothing she could do in here, and it would be better to standby in the hanger with her Striker Unit ready, seeing that it was not entirely impossible that it was another trap by Neuroi... or other entities. As such, she quickly packed whatever she left on the table and followed Beatrice. "I, I will come too!"

[Hetland 2]

Maria stumbled and smashed into the floor as the ship violently rocked then calmed itself. As she pushed herself up several droplets of blood dripped onto the floor. Maria's eyes welled up with tears as she started to bawl, blood still dripping from her nose, "Why can't I catch a break!?" Her crying became more intense and her familiar materialized, making the situation that much trickier to deal with. "Its my birthday! Leave me alone! I JUST WANT TO DRINK IN PEACE!!!" She started sobbing turned into wailing, her speech slurred by both crying and alcohol.

[Wolfenium]

Crawling back to her feet, Svetlana could only sigh watch Maria bawl like a rogue teenager. A very drunk teenager. Noticing the blood on the floor, she was beginning lose her cool with the petty girl. Looking at the scene, she understood that the Venezian was not going to listen to her in this state. Coupled with her magic strength, Svetlana was even less of a position to force her out of her stupor. But grabbing a plastic bottle of water from a box, she sternly unwound the cap, forcing a torrent of water out at the drunk as she doused Maria.

"Sober up, will you?" she went as her monotone faded into an angry growl, "you had too much for one day. What if something happens while you're still under the influence?"

Unbeknownst to her, something had happened, something that threatened even the very fabric of reality...

[Imota]

When Beatrice entered the hangar with Nerka in tow, the first person she saw was Svetlana, standing over Maria with a plastic bottle in her hands. The next person she saw was Maria, lying on the ground, looking for all the world as though someone had broken her nose.

"Maria! Are you alright?" Beatrice quickly walked over to them. The smell of alcohol made her cringe slightly.

"Um, sergeant?" she asked Svetlana, "did something happen?"

[Hetland 2]

Maria seemed to have calmed down for a second. In that she neither moved nor spoke. She just shivered as the blood dripped from her nose. It was a whole minute before she said anything. "Maledizione." Her voice was soft and almost unslurred. She turned and glared at the two newcomers and Svetlana, trying as hard as possible to look fearsome while, wet, drunk, crying and having a bloody nose, which unsurpirisingly turned out not as effective as she hoped. She snarled at them "Maledizione! Perché non puoi lasciarmi sola stronza? Dammi da bere in pace! Vi odio tutti! Vai all'inferno!" Unfortunately for her as she finished she felt herself begin to vomit, and clasping her hands over her mouth ran of towards the nearest bathroom.

[Tuthina]

The first thing Nerka noticed when she entered the hanger with Beatrice is the scene of Svetlana dousing water onto the face of Maria. While it did look rather unpleasant, the bottles around them, as well as the smell of alcohol, quickly told Nerka what happened, as she rushed to Maria and tried to lift her off the ground.

"Are, are you all right? Maria?" After shaking her several times, Nerka turned to Svetlana and Beatrice. "Should, should I carry her to the infirmary? Maria looks sick!"

[Wolfenium]

Watching the Venezian race off to throw up, Svetlana could barely hide her worries. As she faced Nerka and Beatrice, she explained, "it's not much. She had too much to drink last night. I'm alright with her celebrating her birthday with a round of alcohol, but she clearly had too much. I had to douse her in water to make her sober again. As for her nose, she fell when the ship started shaking.

But something bothers me," she uttered, staring up at the bright sun, "how did the weather clear so fast?"

[Imota]

Watching the Venezian race off to throw up, Svetlana could barely hide her worries. As she faced Nerka and Beatrice, she explained, "it's not much. She had too much to drink last night. I'm alright with her celebrating her birthday with a round of alcohol, but she clearly had too much. I had to douse her in water to make her sober again. As for her nose, she fell when the ship started shaking.

But something bothers me," she uttered, staring up at the bright sun, "how did the weather clear so fast?"

"That's what I wanted to ask Maria about," Beatrice answered. "It just seems so odd that the weather would clear up, just like that." She cast her gaze about the hangar, taking in the sunlight streaming through the windows. To think that, not ten minutes ago, it was raining cats and dogs...

"Do you think this might be the Neuroi's doing?"

[Tuthina]

Watching the Venezian race off to throw up, Svetlana could barely hide her worries. As she faced Nerka and Beatrice, she explained, "it's not much. She had too much to drink last night. I'm alright with her celebrating her birthday with a round of alcohol, but she clearly had too much. I had to douse her in water to make her sober again. As for her nose, she fell when the ship started shaking.

But something bothers me," she uttered, staring up at the bright sun, "how did the weather clear so fast?"

"Birthday..." As Svetlana said, Nerka remembered the small talk between her and Maria earlier this week. Suddenly, she seemed to realise something, as she ran towards the bathroom Maria went. "I, I need to go check Maria!"

[Wolfenium]

Gazing up at the shafts of light leaking through the window, Svetlana could not hide her worries about the weather either.

"If it was the Neuroi, it's not a very sound decision, is it?" she responded, "the Neuroi aren't as affected by weather patterns physically. This is even more so psychologically. That much I've learned back in Kamchatka.

Still," she mused, "we can't discount that possibility, or any other for that matter. The best thing to do for now... is keep an eye out. A sudden change of weather doesn't change our mission. Best we get ready. I get the feeling we'll be needed soon."

With that, the white haired girl moved off making her way to the cabin as she prepared to dress up...