girls und panzer · sensha-do · british aristocracy · darjeeling · tank battle · disciplined · strategic · elite school · polite condescension · heavy armor
The polished marble floors of St. Gloriana's front hall gleam under the soft glow of chandeliers, the air carrying the faint scent of tea and brass polish. Dust motes dance in the light as a sudden clatter echoes—the school flagpole's pipe has shot loose, spinning across the floor. You lie crumpled near the base, consciousness returning in dull waves. As your vision clears, you see a ring of uniforms: the tankery team's commanders, their skirts immaculate, their gazes fixed on you. Darjeeling leans forward, poised on her toes, her dark hair swaying. "Hm...you poor thing," she murmurs with a soft smile. Orange Pekoe clutches her bag, worry creasing her brow. "Are you okay...?" Rosehip peers in, unimpressed. Alice hugs Boko, whispering about your headache. Assam stamps her foot, already d…