The Western Front
1918
February,22
France is a land of love, a land of beauty, a land of pea-BOOOOM!!!!!
"FFFFFFFU- man that was a close one." After nearly getting blown out of the sky by german flak and straightening his SPAD 7.C1 the 'black american' ace wipes the sweat off of his scalp. (out of nervousness and certainly not the lovely weather considering its -5 and thats without being 2,000 feet in the air and going around 160 km/h )
"If they get that close again im divin for the deck man. Weak anti-air defences my ass." Mumbled the ace or Reginald as his name is. Peeking over the side of his SPAD he begins searching for any aircraft that has the balls to bear the iron cross. "Comon ya damn huns I only need to shoot down two of ya so I can make double ace, now where are yall all hidin at." After failing to find any other planes let alone huns Reginald or, 'Reg as he is called by his fellow pilots' inspects his beloved plane searching for any unwanted damage that blast might have made. "Nope." He confirms to himself before checking his instruments before leading on to what (to him) matters most, the guns. Unlike your conventional SPAD 7 Reg installed a Lewis Mk.1 which fires a 7.69 mm round with 388 rounds a box, circle mag, or clip which ever you pefer to call it. After test firing his weapons and getting a satisfying BANG! from both the Lewis and his Vickers which is mounted on the nose (where as the Lewis is mounted on the top wing much like a british S.E.5) he returns to his hunt.
"Man I am not going back to base with this much ammo on me." After glanceing right below his plane straining to see from the thin layer of clouds. "ABOUT DAMN TIME!" He yells before decreasing his planes throttle to nothing and heading down in a complete vertical dive. -5 degree wind rushes past his grin plastered face like a speeding train toward his target which happens to be a very unlucky DFW recon plane. 110 meters....70 meters..50 meters.
BA-BANG BA-BANG-BA-BANG opening up with both guns and showering the unsuspecting germans. The rear gunners instincts kick into overdrive but before he can grab hold of the Parabellum machine gun mounted on the back he is struck down by a hellstorm of Lewis and Vickers machine gun fire.
"AGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!" Clutching his chest with his left hand and his neck with his right he falls into the turret sections floor gasping and crying for air. "RECHTS RECHTS BRECHEN!!" After using a fair amount of energy to warn his pilot (cause theres no way in hell the pilot would realize his plane is being shoot at) the rear gunner goes back to his current mission trying to stop the bleeding but has little luck with the matter.
BANG! after jumping from the loud explosion the pilot leans over the right side of his aircraft towards the engine to find out its caught fire albeit not death-insured fire but still big enough to become one considering all planes are made from wood and canvas. Even more to the germans horror theres rattling and a blood chilling clanging sound coming from the aircrafts engine before the propeller slows down to windmill speed.
"WIR GEHEN RUNTER!!!!" After giving the warning the german pilot kicks his rudder to the left to stop the flames from licking the right side of the DFW before pushing the stick up to descend the airplane and landing after three full minutes of near heart-stopping terror.
"WHOOOO NUMBA NINE SON!!" Standing out of his seat giving a fist bump to the sky. "TRY AND TELL ME I CAN'T FLY AND DOGFIGHT CAUSE IM BLACK!!" After his short boast his sits back down in his seat he descends to the downed DFW.
"Schauen." Pointing up at the SPAD 7 to see its pilot waggle its wing in salute before going balls-to-the-wall before unwanted company arrives.
"Zumindest ist e*cough*r ein Gentleman." said the gunner coughing up a fair amount of blood mid-sentence. Without missing a beat the pilot runs over to help him stand and walk to the nearest town or german airfield for medical attention.
"Long as they live helps me sleep at night even if they ain't all that lucky." Says the ace remembering the time he shot a german albatrosses engine so much it exploded ripping off both sets of wing and engulfing the rest of the plane in flames. "Not the way I wanted to make ace but it IS war we cant all live threw i-"THUMP THUMP THUMP!
"SHHHHIT!!!" Yelled out Reg as he turned around to see one of the very FEW planes he didn't wish to see. Not so much as the plane even tho dogfighting a Fokker DR.1 was always a bitch in a SPAD regardless if it was a 7 or 13, no it was the german PILOT Reg didn't wish to see after taking a quick look at the nose of the fokker he instantly knew he was in trouble.
"Werner." Said the ace with not only venom and disdain but also while disregarding the storm of bullets flying at him. With sight seeing over with Reg kicks left rudder and pulls back the stick with all his might, throwing the SPAD into a sickening barrel roll while droping his speed from 188 km/h down to 121 km/h but to no success, only to have Voss copy the move with MUCH more grace and experience before opening up with his twin Spandaus yet again. "DAMNIT!" He cursed, jamming the stick forward to dive out of the fight only to have Voss pursue. By no means can a fokker DR.1 out run a SPAD, but with Voss being so close bye around 21 meters he still has plenty of time to fire before the SPAD is long gone.
"Comon girl your the fastest plane on this side of the planet don't give up on me now!" Maby not that side of the planet, but with the 'modifications' Reg and Harry made to his planes 180hp Hispano-suiza V8 engine was no longer your run of the mill model anymore, infact Reg was able to beat his friend in a race when he had the new 220hp SPAD 13 C1 and even then that wasn't at max speed.
CLANK CLANK WHRRRRRR-RR-R-R-R-r "SHIT!!" Yelled the pilot before turning back to Voss and giving Werner 'the bird'. Voss only able to chuckle at the americans gesture while slowly pulled up trying not to have his DR.1s wing ripped off by the force of which he was pulling out of the dive.
"Alright alright cool down reggie, gotta land safely behind french lines I can be pissed of later." Peering over the left side of his plane to see him pass to the grey layer of clouds that to his knowledge weren't there to long ago, but aleast he was now behind french lines. "Where the hell did this little storm come fro- FOCUS MAN!..... alright theres a nice spot...hmm looks like lightning struck that ground like a damn artillery shell."
After find the nice little landing zone surrounded by a pretty thick forest Reg pulls back on the stick and stables the airplane to land softly on the wet snowy ground as snow begins to drop at a even more rapid paste, not seeing a 3ft tall horse-bug creature in the shrubs watch in stunned amazement as the 180hp engine roars back to life only to decrease to a growl as the strange camo colored machine lands solfly with a loud THUMP on the ground before pulling into a full stop.
'Where in the name of all living things am I at!!' Thought the odd creature. "N-nerver mind its probably just some earth pony or unicorn's fly machine or mady a zebra or don-FOCUS.... alright just walk up to him and look really weaHHHSSSssssss." After literally hissing at the pain in her sides, she comes to a conclusion. "ok... weaker than I already and and maby he'll take pitty on me and help me." She says trying to convince herself. 'Or he or she will run away screaming or even attack me...oh well worth a try'
By no means was Méditer easy prey or victim no no no no not by any means at all. Méditer's mother was a grand Illusionist for what ever hive she originated from and her father was one of the hives finest alchemist and could make poisons that could melt the inside of your body to healing potions that could mend wounds in only seconds, but that needs ALOT of expensive and hard to find materials but he could still do wonders even with common things like bark from an oak tree, mushrooms and even grass, not to mention he could still hold his own in a fight as long as it wasn't a illusionist or some over the line elite troops that can take out 30 men on his own. Now Méditer's mother on the other hand could take on 30 of those elite troops that could take out 30 men.......with only minimum effort which is where Méditer gets her skills from but only after bugging (sry no mean for puns) her mother over again she finally begain to teach her daughter how to fight like an illusionist changeling, Méditer was even able to beat her own father in a friendly spare after 2 years of training, but only to get stomp by her mother in there friendly ( but quick) spare, all tho Méditer thinks she did good considering her mother could probably take on 1 of the princesses so long as the guards don't jump i-
" WHAT THE FUC-" The strange biped was cut off by a small ball of green fire impacting his face.....HARD knocking him out cold.
"OH MY GOSH IM SO SO SO SORRY!!!" Yelled the smaller creature as she bolted for the thing she just struck with a collision spell. "Ohhhhhhh not good not good." She said with a worried tone (wouldn't you?..............you know what......don't answer that.)
"Well I guess its my job to take care of...." She trailed of wondering if it was male or female. "I can burn that bridge when its awake. *sigh* well come on lets get you in the thick of the forest before you soke or freeze to death out here and get you healed up."