obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
Selonianth
Writer of Words
Indeed... though the picture of Mutsu actually doing the sisconning would be better imho.Picture relevant:
It's sad that such a sweet scene has to be sexualized like that.
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
You realize that romantic love does not necessarily involve sex, right? Although undoubtedly the term "lover" has that connotation...
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Selonianth
Writer of Words
It's more a statement of the reality of it in a funny way. Mutsu *is* Nagato's sistership and ... demi-incestual lesbian lover and that's basically what she said... in a deliberately odd way.
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
That isn't ever more then implied though...
It seemed more like Nagato was expressing despair than hot sister-love.
- Location
- 'Murica
I know, which is why I'm not super mad about it. A little RP can be fun, and helps to keep up interest between updates. (It's also a good way for me to help get into- and stay in-character.) It's just when it gets excessive, or involves characters who haven't been seen yet that it gets kinda annoying.
Selonianth
Writer of Words
... I can pull up the anime to prove you wrong if you'd like.
Mutsu drapes herself all over Nagato in the battle to kill the hime in the 12th episode and then in the final credits she brings Nagato flowers and Nagato coughs and blushes.
Well yea, but even in the reinterpretation of the scene in that comment what Nagato says is still the same, it just rewords it and provides background context in a funny way.
Honestly, for my point, whether or not there was hanky-panky between them is irrelevant. In that scene, and in general, Mutsu was acting as Nagato's support as she dealt with the many head and heartaches of her position.
Who is there for her when Mutsu is being Richardson's XO?
Selonianth
Writer of Words
... Ooyodo?
Ooyodo is a nice girl, but I don't think she's the hugging type.
She's been Kongou'd into jaded nonchalance.
Selonianth
Writer of Words
I'm pretty sure she's just immune to Kongou's being... Kongou.Ooyodo is a nice girl, but I don't think she's the hugging type.
She's been Kongou'd into jaded nonchalance.
Which seems impossible all on it's own.
How could you ever be immune to Kongou?
Selonianth
Writer of Words
When you get mistakenly glomped by her somehow thinking you're the teitoku... I could imagine how you'd become immune.
I see that your words are in English, but I do not understand them.
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
Which are strong implications to be sure, but it's still nothing more then implying. Don't get me wrong: I ship them quite heavily too, but I recognize that in fiction "implying" is not the same as "confirming".
Stahor
BookWorm
- Location
- Russia, Moscow
Where you putting "the girl I care about so much" from 10 ep? At "strong implications" or "sisterly feelings"?
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
Given how ambiguous the Japanese can be*, both.
*We're talking about a people who view commenting on the appearance of the moon to be a legitimate means of confessing love.
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- Location
- 'Murica
Semi-relevant to the discussion, but Nagato and Mutsu aren't based in the same city. Nagato's Admiral Goto's secretary ship in Yokosuka, Mutsu's Admiral Richarson's secretary ship down in Sasebo. They don't usually sortie together, not unless there's something that really desperately needs their firepower.
Also, they're very much secondary characters here. You're free to have whatever headcanons or theories you want, but I'm going to focus my writing more on the American girls.
Also, they're very much secondary characters here. You're free to have whatever headcanons or theories you want, but I'm going to focus my writing more on the American girls.
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
No doubt. This is just a shippers discussion, nothing more.
I have Proof Jersey is a Lady When the Leader of your nation calls you a Lady are you going to disagree.
Part 53: How do you even spell that?
- Location
- 'Murica
Part 53
Battleship Musashi smiled as she reclined back in the pool. The warm, salty water lapping at her body felt like a cross between a warm blanket and a soft lullaby. The mountains of hearty American breakfast food stuffing every nook and corner of her fuel bunkers and magazines tamed even her monstrous appetite. She was content, more so than she'd ever been before.
For the first time in her life as a kanmusu, she'd earned her rest. She'd fought, and fought hard. Fought for a noble cause. She'd stood up against a demon of the deep, and she'd vanquished it with her mighty cannons. Musashi'd never felt this kind of contentment before.
Her muscles ached, and the torpedo gashes on her flank stung, but it was a pleasing kind of pain. The honor-mark of a job well done. Hard work for a noble cause.
But… it was a cause that'd drawn its cost. Valiant Heermann's wounds were the most obvious example, but Nagato, Mutsu, and even Musashi herself all bore the bloody marks of battle. And so did the American battleship, although in a far more subtle, more insidious manner.
Musashi fancied herself a samurai. The noble fighting spirit of Japan given form in steel and flesh. As much a student of human nature as of violence. Her long seclusion had given her time to hone the art of perception, albeit mostly by joining—and subsequently getting banned from—online forums and message boards.
She hadn't wanted to speak up, nor would she have been able to find the words, but she knew the American was hurting. The way she set her jaw, the way she narrowed her brows to hide her icy eyes. And the quiet sobs that had been slipping out of the shower room for the past hour.
But, thankfully, the sobs had stopped soon after Kongou wordlessly volunteered herself to comfort the American. Musashi was thankful for that. She might be the best battleship ever built. But Kongou was far more… perceptive, and as the first Kanmusu to return, she knew far more about managing one's fragile humanity.
Still, Musashi knew she had to do something to help the wounded American. And luckily, she knew just the thing to do.
But no plan survives first contact with the enemy. The moment the towering American walked out of the shower—with a much smaller Kongou close by her side—Musashi's brain crashed to a screeching halt.
She'd never actually seen the American in anything other than her usual outfit. And while Musashi couldn't argue the obvious strength of the American's long, sinewy legs, she'd never imagined the rest of the American's body would look like… well… that.
Jersey's baggy red swim trunks at least hid the hips that even Musashi was envious of,, and the American's American-flag bikini top didn't cover anything that Musashi didn't herself have in spades. But… but Musashi hadn't imagined a battleship could be so fit.
The Iowa-class's bare stomach was a symphony of rippling muscle, her eight boilers chiseled out in stunning relief, her shoulders looked machined from STS steel, and her arms looked strong enough to tear a small country in two.
Musashi expected Jersey's body to look something like Nagato's not… that. The Japanese battleship subconsciously arched her back until her main batteries were on proper display. She couldn't back down in face of a challenge like that!
But Musashi still had a mission to complete. A mission to cheer Jersey up however she could. The Japanese battleship rose out of the water as she stood in the pool. She planted her hands on her broad hips as she stared down the American—who was giving her a look somewhere between boredom and confusion.
"Dillon," grunted out Musashi in a… passable Austrian Accent, "You son of a bitch!"
Jersey screwed up her face. Her brows knit together and her cheeks came up as her icy eyes narrowed into a squint. She had the look of a woman who'd just caught a freight train with her face, and her mind was visibly trying to reboot from scratch.
Somewhere in the background, Naka slapped a hand to her face with a low sigh.
"Okay," Jersey shook her head before focusing on Musashi's glasses. "First off, your Arnie fucking sucks."
Musashi shrugged. She was content that it was at least recognizable.
"And second off… it's almost fucking two-thousand-sixteen." Jersey planted her hands on her hips, her insane American abs twitching just slightly as she tried to keep form laughing, "How the hell do you still know who Arnie even fucking is."
"I'm well-watched," Said Musashi with a haughty smirk, her chest puffing out to match the American's show of force.
"Fucking fair enough," Jersey shrugged as she stepped into the pool. Musashi suppressed a gulp as she stared up at the American's stern face. Without her heels to make up the difference, Jersey towered over the Japanese super battleship.
For a second, the two battleships just stared at each other. Then Jersey thrust her hand in the air. "What's the matter?" she said in a significantly better Austrian accent.
"CIA's got me pushing too many pencils," said Musashi as she slapped her hand into Jersey's.
The two battleships stared each other down as they arm-wrestled in mid-air. Musashi's 150,000 horsepower plant was putting up a valiant fight, but it just couldn't compete with the sheer power of Jersey's turbines. The American had half again as much power without running her engines at design overload.
"Huh? Had enough?" said Jersey with a lopsided smile. The muscles in her arm rippled as she slowly—methodically—drove the Japanese girl into the surf.
This was never going to be a battle Musahsi could win, she knew that going in. But she'd made Jersey smile, which was a victory in itself. "I, Musashi-" the battleship puffed out her chest, her face gleaming in a defiant smirk.
Suddenly, Musashi switched directions. Instead of pushing against the American's might, she jerked her arm with it. Jersey had barely enough time to let out a yelp of surprise as she toppled off balance before she smashed into the water with the grace of a cargo container full of Chinese toaster ovens.
"-AM VICTORIOUS!" Musashi threw her arms up in the air like she'd seen in that American boxing movie.
"C'mere you little shit," laughed Jersey as she thrashed around in the water. Graceful she was not, but she managed to get her arms around Musashi's waist and bring her down with a thunderous crash.
"NO!" Musashi clapped a hand to her breast, her face contorting in imagined pain as she bobbed along on her back, "I AM VANQUISHED!" She thrust her hand at Nagato, who was reading a very damp copy of Fleet Review like nothing had happened. "NAGATO! AVENGE ME!"
The super dreadnought didn't even react as she slowly turned the waterlogged page.
"Fine," Musashi pouted. "KONGOU! AVENGE ME!"
"No Problem, Dess!" Said Kongou as she bounced into the air like she was made of springs and rubber. "BURNING!" She tucked her limbs into a tight cannon ball, "SWIMMING POOL!" She spun head-over-heels as leftover momentum from her jump caught up to her, "LOOOOOOVE!"
"Aw fuck," grumbled Jersey.
Seconds later Kongou plowed into the water with the force of a hyper energetic battleship girl, drenching every girl present from head to toe.
Then, the world went suddenly still.
Nagato flipped a page on the soaking wet mush that at one point had been a magazine.
Mutsu giggled in her usual coy way.
Kirishima adjusted her glasses.
Then the little voice of Heermann echoed though the pool room. "THAT WAS AWESOME!" cried the little destroyer, her hands thrust in the air as she stood in her hot tub.
Jersey laughed. An honest, hearty laugh from somewhere deep inside her boilers. "Hell fucking yeah, it was!" she said, aiming a lazy splash at Kongou's inexplicably perfect buns.
But before the splash fight could begin in earnest, all present were distracted by the single most important element in modern warfare.
It was Napoleon who said "An army marches—or sails—on its stomach." Never was that so true then with Kanmusu. Not only were their appetites as vast as the seas they sailed, their mood—and thus combat effectiveness—marched in lockstep with the quality of the food filling their bellies.
And so when Tenryuu and her kindergarten marched in with lunch, every girl froze in place at the succulent smells of warm meat and fresh coffee.
All five of them wore frilly pink aprons—though by the scowl on Tenryuu's face and the shell casing clenched between her teeth like a cigar, the old cruiser was trying her darnedest to pretend she wasn't wearing any such thing.
Inazuma had an implausibly large jug of coffee balanced carefully on her head, while Ikazuchi had a similarly-huge jug of tea balanced on hers. But as delicious as their offerings might be, they didn't hold Musashi's interest for long. Good—or at least strong—tea and coffee were among the few luxuries that were never denied to the Kanmusu of Yokosuka.
No, it was the heaping trolleys of food that Akatsuki, Hibiki, and Tenryuu pushed that truly made the battleship's mouth water. She'd never even imagined such a bounty. Hamburgers—she recognized them from her exhaustive study of American movies during her isolation—filled every square inch of the trays.
Burgers bigger than… than her own chest, if she was being honest. Burgers piled high with that looked like an entire cow each, not to mention enough lettuce, onions, tomatoes, and bacon to feed Akagi for a month.
"Oh my," mouthed Musashi as her eyes slowly widened at the sight. She didn't know that much food even existed.
Akagi tried to say something similar, but all that came out was a little rivulet of drool as she stared wide-eyed at the feast.
Even Mutsu had dropped all of her usual teasing coyness to stare hungrily at the impossible bounty. Her hands idly stroked and cradled her exposed belly as her mouth hung slack. She might not have an appetite on par with Musashi or Jersey, but she was still a battleship. She burned through food like was drenched in cordite, and she saw action far more often than either of the super battleships.
"Lunch," said Tenryuu with a scratchy growl, "Is served."
"Enjoy, nanodesu!" added Inazuma.
The Japanese girls were still frozen in place as they regarded the impossible bounty on display. Musashi pinched herself in the meat of of her dark-skinned thigh. This was a dream, it had to be. That much food simply couldn't exist in the natural world. Not all in one place. Not on such a short distance.
Across the pool, she saw Mutsu, Akagi,and even Nagato doing the very same thing with various degrees of subtlety.
"What the fuck are you waiting for?" said Jersey with a smile. The battleship waded to the side of the pool, her muscular form shedding water like the bow of a battleship smashing through an arctic wave. "Dig the fuck in!"
Nobody needed to be told twice.
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