We already know they had different presidents at different times than we did, since Teddy Roosevelt was president for them in the 1870s. Anyway I'm rambling. XD Also form is accepted Salvage. 
))Oskar - Above Propwash Junction - Tags: Rush, Horah
Oskar listened silently as he looked down at Rush below him, his face a serene yet thoughtful expression as his mouth fell into the slightest of relaxed frowns. In fact, most of his body was intensely relaxed, the Me 163 gliding along serenely as he drifted down towards Rush's altitude, but kept above him for now as Rush would outclass him once they were level and Oskar would have trouble keeping up. His face fell as Rush described how his squadron had made a bad call and been wiped out by a Japanese fleet. "Mmm..." he said, hearing how Rush's wing had been ripped off and he'd washed ashore, terminating his combat duty permanently.
"Thank you for sharing that..." the Komet said softly. "It sounds... it sounds horrible... and possibly even a source of shame for you... but... it shouldn't be something you feel ashamed about. The fact you could tell me is good. There will be no shaming of anyone here in my presence." He mentioned a Skipper... so there was someone else he knew here? Might be worth looking into later... but not now. "I am so sorry that you lost many of your friends... your comrades... it sounds... well I know how you feel." He chewed his lower lip before he began his own story.
"I was one of 370 Me 163s. 370 of us starting out the war... and of that number, there were 25 in my squadron. We all saw ourselves as young and eager hotshots... no one could touch us, we were so fast. We were state of the art... but we were dangerous too, and not just to enemy bombers." Oskar started. "You see... we were so fast... faster than any plane that had existed before us that we weren't used to flying at such high speeds. Not many of us could handle it... and we had many crashes... or errors in flight that led to our deaths... fighters could wait for our fuel to be exhausted, and pounce on us... but also a lack of training and preparedness to use our full potential led to our deaths. Lack of fuel kept us grounded a lot too... and made us easy targets on the ground... I watched all of my friends die... all of them. Not a single Komet from my squadron survived save for me... it was... it was numbing... to go from 25 to being the only one left by the time the war ended. You know how many of us survived overall at the end of the war?" Oskar asked here.
"10... 10 out of 370. I am indeed a rare plane, Herr Rush... there are not many of my kind left... so believe me... I know. None of my friends survived... I remember one time in particular... we were on our last fuel load and were streaking towards a group of bombers... I told them..." He sniffed here, trying to keep his voice level and even. "I told them NOT to burn their full capacity... I told them to conserve... to leave enough to escape and get back home... but they were new... eager to get some kills in... they didn't listen. Not only did we only down one bomber... but they were all out of fuel by the time I was ready to activate my rocket to get back to base. I told them to do the same... but one by one I listened to them cry out that they were dry... that they had used it all up on their attack runs... and I knew what was coming next... my stomach was roiling as I heard the burst of machine guns... heard the screams of pain... saw the falling... the falling... bodies..." Tears were rolling down Oskar's face now as he tried hard not to break down. He sniffed heavily again, but his efforts were in vain. A sob wracked his body, and he shuddered a little in the air.
"They never... never had a chance... I... I could do nothing for them... so I had to flee... but I felt..." His voice was wavering as he spoke. "I felt like a coward for doing so... but what else could I do? If I stayed... I'd use up my own fuel and would... but I left them... I... it got to so I just didn't like making friends with the new guys because... because you know... they'd be..." He was crying here, trying to blink his tears away. "Because they'd be dead in a week or two anyway... so... so what was the point?" He sobbed, sniffing as he remembered it all clearly, closing his eyes for just a brief minute to try and get those images of the falling bodies out of his head...
Dusty Crophopper - Propwash Junction - Tags: Raven, Lucas
Dusty could see Skipper looking beyond Lightning to some newcomers who resembled him but... weren't exactly like him when it came down to it. The old warplane could see them talking amongst themselves, and offered a smile here, noting they were hybrids of some kind. "Well now... who do we have here?" He asked, rolling forward to greet them.
"Oh! Hey there guys!" Dusty turned to greet them as well with a smile. "You two here for the air show?" They looked like... siblings, and probably were, but he couldn't be 100% sure on that. "It's gonna be starting soon!" he informed them, noting the bleachers were going up with rapid speed now, a sight that kind of made him wary but... well that's what his town was turning into now... it couldn't be avoided with his fame.
Blade Ranger - Arriving in Propwash Junction - Tags: Otter
Blade noticed how jumpy the F-18 seemed about the noise, and moved a big closer to him here. "Hey... it's OK. I don't even know what it was... it looked like a small little plane I've never seen before... but yeah... certainly sounded like a rocket engine. And hey don't worry... he's gliding now it looks like... I don't think he's any threat. I think he was just... showing off... maybe some pre-show thing or something." Blade chuckled to lighten the mood.
He almost stopped in his tracks though as Otter said there wouldn't be much for a blind plane to do. "Oh come now... you don't REALLY believe that, do you?" he asked incredulously. "I mean look at you! You can move... and heck, you might even learn a new skill with time! You shouldn't let a disability limit you... but rather you should let it empower you! It's not something to keep you proverbially grounded the rest of your life. I uh..." He hesitated here, wondering if he should go into this. "I have... what some might call a disability myself... but I don't see it as such and well... it's not like yours, let's just say. But still..." He knew this was a bad example and quite possibly made him a hypocrite... because he hid his thoroughly and never let it come out. "But still I'm sure you'll find something you can do. Sight is a major part of you sure... but it's not all of you. The people of this town, from what I've seen, are really nice. I'm sure they'd help you out and maybe even help you fit in if you were looking to stay!"
Blade paused as he visually scouted the area now. Cars were everywhere, as were planes, so this would be tough. "Hmmm... OK... turn right about 45 degrees and go straight... we're in a crowd now... so be mindful of your wingspan." Blade cautioned. "I'm gonna try and direct you to a spot in the bleachers... does that sound good?" he asked.
