“Ray-Ray! Look at this drawing. Arent’t I a genius!? \(^v^)/”
“Sorry, Sleipnir. I’m not interested in pornography. Please put it away.”
“G-Guh (O///o)! Th-this isn’t any kind of erotic art! Th-this is a design schema for a new super weapon I was thinking about. Do you see these two balls, they’re helium ballons! And this stick thing pointing out from between them is a .40 mm tank barrel!”
“It still looks ridiculous no matter what angle or reason I view this in.”
“i-I’m hurt! (TxT)”
The First Great War in the Battlefield called France had reached an all time high. The conflict between the Central Powers and the Allied Units have come into a deadlock between each other across the fields of Verdun, Versailles, Flanders, and Passchaendaele. The Great War had spurred on technological marvel, yet also gave birth to nightmarish weapons such as Chlorine gas, mounted machine guns, and the growing evolution of ground and air armored vehicles.
The face of battle and tactics were always changing every day. That was why a certain Canadian Witch planned on spurring the pace of the war by creating a weapon of her very own. The prototype for this new ‘Doomsday Weapon 2.0’ came in the form of a drawing used with graphite pencils and crayons. As true to the Canadian Pilot's judgement, it looked like the product of a 5 year old's creative mind.
“Sleipnir. I know you’re working hard to help with the war effort. But this so called weapon of doom you’ve concocted isn’t like brewing a potion you boast at being good at. It involves a lot of engineering minds and talented mechanics to create something. An airplane alone would take two weeks to build if we relied on using wood and cheap steel. The more expensive stuff are left to Aces in the air force. Not to mention, tanks are ridiculously expensive and the British Mark V keeps breaking down at the wrong time.”
“Which is exactly why I’ve developed a new super weapn that will trump all else! It’s built with easy to search for parts and it has firepower of a Dreadnought while it’s floating in the air! Fu-fu-fu, it’s my best creation if I don’t say so myself.”
“You hate machines. Admit it. You throw up the moment you see the propeller spin, and you run to the bathroom everytime you hear a tank fire its cannon. Not to mention the math involve always sends you to the infirmary in a frothing mess.”
“… I-I’ve overcome that o-obstacle.”
“What’s one divided by 2?”
“GOOD GOD, RAY-RAY! M-MY MAGICAL MIND IS ONLY CAPABLE OF SUPPORTING A MAXIMUM VELOCITY OF PLUSES AND MINUSES! P-PLEASE SPARE MEEEEEEEEE!”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The Canadian Witch had a partner. In this war, people who were fighting it did not believe Magic exist. Unbenowst to them, it does and it is also overlapping in their war in terms of magical espionage and counter-intelligence. There has been hidden platoons and units among the various fighting forces who specialize in fighting enemy magicians, or prevent spelcasters from turning the tide of battle by cheating with magic. But since they weren’t very talented in hand to hand combat, or even know how to use a gun, they are always paired up with high ranking combat officers to protect them. You know, the professionals.
One of them would be a certain Canadian Pilot. He was known to be an Ace among Aces, close ranked to Billy Bishop of the British Air Force and the Red Baron of the German Luftstreitkrafte (not Luftwaffe). Having flown over 60+ combat missions and being the man who pushed the maxima of dogfighting to the very limit, he was assigned to this Canadian Witch as they protect the skies from enemy magic users hiding in the opposing air forces. His name was Raymond Colllishaw. Yes, he's real, please find his name in the nearest WW1 Museum in your local area.
“Ray-Ray. Look me in the eye and answer me. Don’t you think my new weapon idea has potential? It could effectively end the war, maybe even in a fortnite if the enemy knew of such a devious craft! The second they hear about this through their communications they'll throw down their guns and go: Don't shoot! Don't shoot! I've lost my rifle! I surrender! I see nothing - NOTHING!”
"..."
"...John Banner. Ever heard of him?"
"Is he a Singer?"
"...Never mind darling (-_-)."
The Canadian Witch let out a small sound like a balloon slowly leaking air from a tiny hole. It sounded depressing, maybe that's the atmosphere she was trying to share with her partner while she flapped her hand-made drawing of her 'Doomsday Weapon 2.0'. It was a hot day in the Summer of France, non?
“Sleipnir. Even if the top brass approved of this concept, the design specs are not in proportion. The materials necessary to support such a huge vessel would be expensive, might even involve highly advanced rare earth metal to compensate for weight and payload. Also, there’s no way a ship of this magnitude could even float, regardless of helium, let along carry a big@ss gun only Dreadnoughts could use.”
“B-b-b-but, wh-what about the German Zeppelins!?”
“They thought everything out, from the tiniest of bolt to the heaviest of bombs they’re attaching. The math involved to reproduce a British version of it would just fry your brain.”
“…I-I’m not scared.”
“Then come with me. The gunnery chief is holding a course in the Aerodynamics of tank shells. I think this could be excellent resource to improve your ‘Doomsday weapon 2.0’.”
“N-NO! A-ANYTHING BUT THAT CURSED MATHEMATICS! MY MIND WILL BE DEVOURED HARDER THAN A MINDFLAYER! Y-YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, RAY-RAY! DON’T DRAG ME! DON’T DRAG ME! HEEEEEEEEELP!”
Regardless of a great and elaborate idea, all major crafts used in the war relied on extreme levels of engineering and mechanical ingenuity. Even a single bolt on a plane could mean the life and death of the pilot, and thus wasting valuable resources, both human and machine.
“Come now, Sleipnir. Be a good girl and go inside. If it helps, there’s a lot of cute guys in there.”
“EVEN IF THEY WERE ALL BORN WITH THE FACE CARVED BY MICHALANGELO, I DON’T WANT MY MIND TO BE RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPED!”
Moral of the story – don’t drop out of school, ever.
"Stop frothing and pay attention to the Physics formula, Sleipnir."
"G-gufbbbfbbfffgkkkkkkrrrggghggaaannnnnn! (@x@)