Drexler
Well, nothing for it. Impero flops back-first onto the sand; the rest of her force has been ordered to just do whatever they want for a day, at which point she'd have further orders.
Drexler found herself sitting on the beach and staring off into the endless expanse of blue before her. The waves tickled her feet as she wiggled her toes in the sand. The fleet seemed so. . . empty now that there were only nine of them. All they had was each other—it was them against the world. . .
Too bad Drexler hated half of the remaining fleet.
There was Bismarck with her
stupid condescending smile and her
stupid headpats, not to mention that she also had float-
planes. Ughh. Drexler was definitely keeping an eye out for her. Then there was Oakland with her
stupid mask and how she followed the bigger ships around like a lost puppy. And rounding off them off was L'Audasucks with her
stupid "I'm too good to speak to you" attitude and her
stupid 43 knots and her
stupid tallness and her
stupid smug face.
Arghhh! Drexler took a deep breath.
'Think about happy things, like. . . like. . . war? I mean, Bismarck is always going off about how awesome war is. But then again, it is Bismarck I'm talking about. . . " Drexler idly kicked her feet out, trusting Bismarck was just asking for trouble.
Drexler stood up from her spot and began walking along the beach, going along her list of "allies" as she plodded along. She didn't particularly care about Helena, the two of them rarely ever talked, let alone knew each other. The same could also be said for Juneau.
Hmm. Now that she thought about it, the only ones with any sort of redeeming values were Impero and Grom. Impero, despite being a battleship, hadn't looked down on Drexler during their short interaction, and that was enough to put her on Drexler's good side. Grom, on the other hand, was the closest to a friend Drexler had in the fleet: both of them hated planes and both of them were destroyers—what else could you look for in a friend? Oh! Her being shorter than Drexler was a huge bonus. Her strange fascination with Mayonnaise was weird, but that was something Drexler was willing to overlook.
Drexler grabbed a nearby stick and poked the dead fish lying before her. The squishing sound it made as she prodded it went unnoticed as she ruminated over her seven allies.
Huh? What do you mean there's one more ship? Seven plus one was eight, and there were. . . nine ships in the fleet. So who did Drexler miss? She went down her list: there was Impero, Bismarck, the two cruisers, the Frenchie, Grom, and Helena. Who did she—
Oh. Her. Drexler's face darkened and her mutilation of the fish intensified. The less said about Iwo Jima, the better.
Drexler's mind wandered back to her first life at the thought of carriers. '
Stupid airplanes and their stupid pilots. Couldn't bring me down fair and square so they decided to bring me down with them! And I just had to be the only one to sink in that mission. It was so—so STUPID!'
At that point, the fish Drexler had been whacking looked less like a fish and more like a dirty smear on the otherwise pristine sand. Drexler gave the fish one look of disgust before walking off, her thoughts still on airplanes. . .