All the omake I believe.
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
EuroBotes!
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
Speaking of omakes...
I said I would get the second Europe bit done, and I meant it.
Moving away from Hood, to Warspite now. And a bonus feature at the end...an omake to the omake. Omakeception?
"So, Warspite."
"Yes Admiral?"
"How are the other girls adjusting?"
HMS Warspite, the 'Grand Old Lady' of the Royal Navy, sighed. The battleship, who preferred to not have that nickname waved in her face, brushed a lock of brown hair from her face.
"Not well, I'm afraid."
Her Admiral, on Drake Andrews, frowned deeply, "I see. Well, I can't say I'm surprised really."
"Neither can I."
"Victory is going to be missed." Andrews rubbed at his face, dark black hair cut short enough it didn't get in the way. "Bloody hell! Of all the girls we could..."
Even as he shouted, the Admiral slumped down wearily. He continued to rub at his forehead, as Warspite walked around the desk, setting her hands on the man's shoulders. Her blue, almost purple, eyes were filled with sadness as she massaged at the Admiral's aches and pains. His stress. They were both being pushed hard now, not least by many of the British ship girls. Losing Victory had been a harsh blow like no other, and adjusting to it was...not easy. She was the symbol of all they could do as a people. The warship that every single British girl, from the smallest destroyer to the largest battleship, looked up to.
And now she was gone, as quick as the explosion that had taken her life.
It was all Warspite could do to keep the rest of her girls from cracking under the pressure of that loss. While trying to keep herself going, as well. A lot more fell on her shoulders now. She was not the oldest British girl left. That was Dreadnought. Nor was she the most powerful, or the most famous. Sure, she had her fame, but little- who bloody cares how big she actually is -Hood had always been the attention stealing one. But Warspite was the most respected of the remaining ship girls, with all that entailed.
"You need to relax more, Admiral."
Regardless, she would do her duty.
"And you need to get out and do something else." Andrews turned his head, a cocky smirk crossing his face despite everything.
Warspite merely rolled her blue-purple eyes, squeezing down a bit more tightly than perhaps necessary. Her Admiral winced, as he pulled away.
"Bloody hell Warspite, be more careful."
"Of course Admiral."
Andrews narrowed his eyes, "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"
The battleship raised a single elegant eyebrow.
"Right, of course you did." The Admiral grunted, a smile tugging at his lips. "I was being serious though. Get out of here Warspite, mingle. Talk with the girls, and keep an eye on them for me. I've got to figure out who we're going to transfer to take Furious' place in Germany."
"Are you sure you don't need..."
"I'm fine."
Much as she may have wanted to argue the point, Warspite knew an order when she saw one. She was stubborn to a fault, but even she knew better than to stand up to an Admiral's order. So, Warspite sighed and did as asked. On the plus side, their daily routine had gotten her mind off of Victory. Taking that as a victory under the circumstances, the old battleship left the command building, and started walking along the paths of the naval base. Her long skirt shifted around her legs, as the woman looked at the other ship girls who had joined her.
Or, at least, were walking along the same paths.
Hm. Hood and Dreadnought, probably talking about the nightmares again. Poor girl.
Of course, Warspite knew of Hood's recurring nightmares about Bismarck. Dreadnought had confided in her some time ago, warning that Hood was pushing herself too hard. Not that there was much she could do about it...Hood was always closer to Invincible, than she was to Warspite.
Victorious, on break from her duty in the Med. I need to ask her how the Italians are doing.
Turning on her heel, Warspite pushed her lingering worry about Hood to the back of her mind. Instead, she walked towards the blonde carrier, Victorious looking up at the sound of the old battleship walking her way. Warspite couldn't be stealthy if her life depended on it, to say the least. Still, at least the carrier smiled at her, brown eyes dancing with happiness. It was infectious, the image hardly helped by the helmet jauntily tilted to the side on her head. Or her camo-patterned tunic and shorts combination clothing.
It was quite clear that her aviation-inclined comrade enjoyed being home. She wasn't even in uniform.
"Good to see you're happy, Vicky." Still, Warspite smiled as the carrier pouted at the nickname.
"One of these days, I'm going to find Renown and shove one of my Corsair's down her stacks." Victorious rolled her eyes, though there was little real bite to her words. "What did you need me for, Warspite?"
"I can't just talk to you?"
"You could, but the Grand Old Lady only comes around when she has something to talk about."
Cursing inwardly at the grin on Victorious' face, Warspite nodded, "Well, you aren't wrong. I need to know how the Italians and Force H are doing."
"Right."
To her credit, Victorious was quickly in full-professional mode, the carrier adjusting her helmet around her long braided hair, as she sat down on a nearby bench. Warspite sat next to her, waiting for the carrier to start talking. Something that didn't take long, as Victorious looked down at her hands.
"The situation isn't bad." Her voice was softer now, as she turned her brown eyes on Warspite. "I mean, the Italians have at least a few of their own battleships back now. They are hardly as good as you and your sisters, but at least the Cavours are speedy. That said, I really wish we had more girls down there. It's not easy, covering the entire Med."
Warspite smiled, though it wasn't particularly happy, "Oh, I know that feeling all too well."
"'Course you do." Victorious managed a larger smirk, "You were in the Med for a bit. Still, all I can really say is we need more ships. Having Agincourt and Erin down there helps, but they're a bit...old. And Agincourt is..."
"Not the best, yes."
That was an understatement. The Turks may have been overjoyed at having those to battleships back, but the fact of the matter was...they weren't great. Erin was, for her age. But Agincourt was a girl who just wasn't fit for frontline combat in any other situation. That they had to be used on the frontline was due entirely to a relative lack of anyone else to send down there. There was too much water to cover, for even the Royal Navy.
Still, Warspite at least had something to report to the Admiral now.
"Right, well, go find your sisters and get some rest Vicky."
"Of course, Grand Old Lady."
Both warships mock-glared at the other, before Warspite waved her hand, clearly telling the carrier that she could go off and do her own thing. Something that had Victorious grinning, as she ran off to her elder siblings, wherever they may be. Warspite merely smiled as she left, shaking her head slightly. It was good to see the carrier happy, annoying nickname aside. That said, next on the list...
Finding her own sisters. Barham had just returned from the Baltic, after all.
"Good to see you sis!"
"I'm glad to see you too, Barham."
Warspite smiled at her sister, as the younger girl- her dark brown hair the same shade as Warspite's own -hugged her tightly. Barham was a bit of a clingy one, the lingering issue of her sinking in the war making her very attached to her sisters. And vice-versa, of course. Warspite rarely let the younger girl out of her sight if she could avoid it. Losing her again was not high on her 'to-do' list.
That aside...
"How are things in the Baltic?"
"Business as usual." Barham shrugged slightly.
"Not much change?"
The younger battleship shook her head, "Not really, no. The Swedes are the same as ever, absolutely bloody insane. But the Germans are useless."
It was safe to say that Warspite hadn't really expected anything different. The Germans had no ship girls. The Swedes had some, but they were all kind of on the 'odd' side. Came with the territory of being designs unlike any other. But...at least the Baltic was relatively calm. It made her less worried than she otherwise would have been, at the idea that Barham spent most of her time in that Sea. Better than places where she was more exposed, at least.
And with that in mind, Warspite smiled at her sister, pulling her back into another hug. Barham squeaked in an entirely undignified manner, as she was crushed against Warspite's rather impressive bust.
"You know I'm happy you're back, little sister." Warspite whispered, as she ran a hand through the other girl's hair. "You aren't around enough."
"Well, I'm the flagship of our Baltic Fleet." Barham didn't resist, as she leaned her head against the elder sibling's shoulder. "Such as it is, anyway. Not really a fleet, honestly."
"No, I daresay it isn't."
But, at least it was something. Barham had a handful of girls to work with, and with the Baltic as calm as it was, it was almost a relief.
"Still, while you're home, we're going to spend some time together. We just need to make sure to record what we do for Elizabeth, Valiant and Malaya."
Record it for their sisters who hadn't been summoned yet.
Don't think about that for now though, for now, have a good time with Barham.
The two battleships, pulling away from their hug, walked out of the building arm-in-arm. Warspite may have been a stickler for rules and stubborn, but she knew how to have fun when the time came. And she was going to enjoy spending time with Barham, for however long it lasted!
I said I would get the second Europe bit done, and I meant it.
Moving away from Hood, to Warspite now. And a bonus feature at the end...an omake to the omake. Omakeception?
BB Europe: Warspite
"So, Warspite."
"Yes Admiral?"
"How are the other girls adjusting?"
HMS Warspite, the 'Grand Old Lady' of the Royal Navy, sighed. The battleship, who preferred to not have that nickname waved in her face, brushed a lock of brown hair from her face.
"Not well, I'm afraid."
Her Admiral, on Drake Andrews, frowned deeply, "I see. Well, I can't say I'm surprised really."
"Neither can I."
"Victory is going to be missed." Andrews rubbed at his face, dark black hair cut short enough it didn't get in the way. "Bloody hell! Of all the girls we could..."
Even as he shouted, the Admiral slumped down wearily. He continued to rub at his forehead, as Warspite walked around the desk, setting her hands on the man's shoulders. Her blue, almost purple, eyes were filled with sadness as she massaged at the Admiral's aches and pains. His stress. They were both being pushed hard now, not least by many of the British ship girls. Losing Victory had been a harsh blow like no other, and adjusting to it was...not easy. She was the symbol of all they could do as a people. The warship that every single British girl, from the smallest destroyer to the largest battleship, looked up to.
And now she was gone, as quick as the explosion that had taken her life.
It was all Warspite could do to keep the rest of her girls from cracking under the pressure of that loss. While trying to keep herself going, as well. A lot more fell on her shoulders now. She was not the oldest British girl left. That was Dreadnought. Nor was she the most powerful, or the most famous. Sure, she had her fame, but little- who bloody cares how big she actually is -Hood had always been the attention stealing one. But Warspite was the most respected of the remaining ship girls, with all that entailed.
"You need to relax more, Admiral."
Regardless, she would do her duty.
"And you need to get out and do something else." Andrews turned his head, a cocky smirk crossing his face despite everything.
Warspite merely rolled her blue-purple eyes, squeezing down a bit more tightly than perhaps necessary. Her Admiral winced, as he pulled away.
"Bloody hell Warspite, be more careful."
"Of course Admiral."
Andrews narrowed his eyes, "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"
The battleship raised a single elegant eyebrow.
"Right, of course you did." The Admiral grunted, a smile tugging at his lips. "I was being serious though. Get out of here Warspite, mingle. Talk with the girls, and keep an eye on them for me. I've got to figure out who we're going to transfer to take Furious' place in Germany."
"Are you sure you don't need..."
"I'm fine."
Much as she may have wanted to argue the point, Warspite knew an order when she saw one. She was stubborn to a fault, but even she knew better than to stand up to an Admiral's order. So, Warspite sighed and did as asked. On the plus side, their daily routine had gotten her mind off of Victory. Taking that as a victory under the circumstances, the old battleship left the command building, and started walking along the paths of the naval base. Her long skirt shifted around her legs, as the woman looked at the other ship girls who had joined her.
Or, at least, were walking along the same paths.
Hm. Hood and Dreadnought, probably talking about the nightmares again. Poor girl.
Of course, Warspite knew of Hood's recurring nightmares about Bismarck. Dreadnought had confided in her some time ago, warning that Hood was pushing herself too hard. Not that there was much she could do about it...Hood was always closer to Invincible, than she was to Warspite.
Victorious, on break from her duty in the Med. I need to ask her how the Italians are doing.
Turning on her heel, Warspite pushed her lingering worry about Hood to the back of her mind. Instead, she walked towards the blonde carrier, Victorious looking up at the sound of the old battleship walking her way. Warspite couldn't be stealthy if her life depended on it, to say the least. Still, at least the carrier smiled at her, brown eyes dancing with happiness. It was infectious, the image hardly helped by the helmet jauntily tilted to the side on her head. Or her camo-patterned tunic and shorts combination clothing.
It was quite clear that her aviation-inclined comrade enjoyed being home. She wasn't even in uniform.
"Good to see you're happy, Vicky." Still, Warspite smiled as the carrier pouted at the nickname.
"One of these days, I'm going to find Renown and shove one of my Corsair's down her stacks." Victorious rolled her eyes, though there was little real bite to her words. "What did you need me for, Warspite?"
"I can't just talk to you?"
"You could, but the Grand Old Lady only comes around when she has something to talk about."
Cursing inwardly at the grin on Victorious' face, Warspite nodded, "Well, you aren't wrong. I need to know how the Italians and Force H are doing."
"Right."
To her credit, Victorious was quickly in full-professional mode, the carrier adjusting her helmet around her long braided hair, as she sat down on a nearby bench. Warspite sat next to her, waiting for the carrier to start talking. Something that didn't take long, as Victorious looked down at her hands.
"The situation isn't bad." Her voice was softer now, as she turned her brown eyes on Warspite. "I mean, the Italians have at least a few of their own battleships back now. They are hardly as good as you and your sisters, but at least the Cavours are speedy. That said, I really wish we had more girls down there. It's not easy, covering the entire Med."
Warspite smiled, though it wasn't particularly happy, "Oh, I know that feeling all too well."
"'Course you do." Victorious managed a larger smirk, "You were in the Med for a bit. Still, all I can really say is we need more ships. Having Agincourt and Erin down there helps, but they're a bit...old. And Agincourt is..."
"Not the best, yes."
That was an understatement. The Turks may have been overjoyed at having those to battleships back, but the fact of the matter was...they weren't great. Erin was, for her age. But Agincourt was a girl who just wasn't fit for frontline combat in any other situation. That they had to be used on the frontline was due entirely to a relative lack of anyone else to send down there. There was too much water to cover, for even the Royal Navy.
Still, Warspite at least had something to report to the Admiral now.
"Right, well, go find your sisters and get some rest Vicky."
"Of course, Grand Old Lady."
Both warships mock-glared at the other, before Warspite waved her hand, clearly telling the carrier that she could go off and do her own thing. Something that had Victorious grinning, as she ran off to her elder siblings, wherever they may be. Warspite merely smiled as she left, shaking her head slightly. It was good to see the carrier happy, annoying nickname aside. That said, next on the list...
Finding her own sisters. Barham had just returned from the Baltic, after all.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
"Good to see you sis!"
"I'm glad to see you too, Barham."
Warspite smiled at her sister, as the younger girl- her dark brown hair the same shade as Warspite's own -hugged her tightly. Barham was a bit of a clingy one, the lingering issue of her sinking in the war making her very attached to her sisters. And vice-versa, of course. Warspite rarely let the younger girl out of her sight if she could avoid it. Losing her again was not high on her 'to-do' list.
That aside...
"How are things in the Baltic?"
"Business as usual." Barham shrugged slightly.
"Not much change?"
The younger battleship shook her head, "Not really, no. The Swedes are the same as ever, absolutely bloody insane. But the Germans are useless."
It was safe to say that Warspite hadn't really expected anything different. The Germans had no ship girls. The Swedes had some, but they were all kind of on the 'odd' side. Came with the territory of being designs unlike any other. But...at least the Baltic was relatively calm. It made her less worried than she otherwise would have been, at the idea that Barham spent most of her time in that Sea. Better than places where she was more exposed, at least.
And with that in mind, Warspite smiled at her sister, pulling her back into another hug. Barham squeaked in an entirely undignified manner, as she was crushed against Warspite's rather impressive bust.
"You know I'm happy you're back, little sister." Warspite whispered, as she ran a hand through the other girl's hair. "You aren't around enough."
"Well, I'm the flagship of our Baltic Fleet." Barham didn't resist, as she leaned her head against the elder sibling's shoulder. "Such as it is, anyway. Not really a fleet, honestly."
"No, I daresay it isn't."
But, at least it was something. Barham had a handful of girls to work with, and with the Baltic as calm as it was, it was almost a relief.
"Still, while you're home, we're going to spend some time together. We just need to make sure to record what we do for Elizabeth, Valiant and Malaya."
Record it for their sisters who hadn't been summoned yet.
Don't think about that for now though, for now, have a good time with Barham.
The two battleships, pulling away from their hug, walked out of the building arm-in-arm. Warspite may have been a stickler for rules and stubborn, but she knew how to have fun when the time came. And she was going to enjoy spending time with Barham, for however long it lasted!
Impersonation
You know, some say that the most famous ship in the world is Hood. Or maybe New Jersey. Or maybe even Yamato, though she hasn't come back yet. They're all lying to you though. The most famous warship in the world, nay, in history...is Enterprise. The most powerful warship ever put to sea, who made her foes tremble with fear! Who struck down any and all who got in her way. Those same people who tell you she isn't the most famous warship ever put to sea, are the same ones who will tell you she hasn't returned to answer the call. Oh they make excuses, but they're just lying.
Because Enterprise has returned. Returned, and already destroyed many Abyssal warships. So many, it isn't worth counting them in fact! Enterprise is the best ship there ever was, and she has proven that time and time again. After all, when the Abyssals turn tail and run whenever the mere mentioning of her name is done, it is quite a powerful sign. Just yesterday, she felled two Abyssal battleships, along with a fleet carrier!
I should know, as Enterprise is...me! Yes, I know Enterprise is back because I am...
"Enterprise!"
"Damn it! Emerald, I'm working!"
"Working on that trashy novel, I'm sure."
HMS Emerald's voice carried more than a little exasperation, as she walked into the room. The light cruiser brushed the green hair that was a mark of her name out of her face, equally green eyes looking at Enterprise with a strict look. A look that the brown haired girl returned, not even flinching back. Why should she? After all, what was a light cruiser to the most powerful aircraft carrier ever put to sea? Nothing, that's what!
No matter how much the glare in those green eyes made her want to find a hole to hide in, no sir.
"You know, sometimes I wonder about you Enterprise." Emerald finally turned away, sighing dramatically.
"Hey!"
"You know, you don't have to live up to that legend. Be yourself, for the love of God."
Enterprise's face shifted into an affronted look, as she glared at the other girl, "I am being myself! I'm Enterprise, you know!"
"Yes, I am aware."
Emerald just shook her head, leaning against the door. Her eyes roved up and down the other girl, dressed in an old-fashioned USN uniform. One that was quite out of place in Britain, but hey, this was Enterprise. If she wanted to wear a USN uniform, she damn well could. And nothing that Emerald would say could change her mind on that. Something the light cruiser knew well, as she sighed again. Running a hand over her face, Emerald pushed away from the doorjam, her eyes looking between it and the other warship seated on her bed.
"Well, whatever the case, we are supposed to escort Renown to France. So get back in your actual uniform, and come along."
"I..."
"Don't backtalk me, little sister."
Enterprise grumbled, as Emerald left the room. Turning back to her computer, the girl continued her writing.
...and, as she continues to fight the Abyssal threat back one base at a time, Enterprise...I...know one thing. That history will never forget the name...
Speaking those words in her best Sir Patrick Stewart impersonation, Enterprise smirked...until Emerald's voice echoed through the room.
"And stop pretending to be that Yank!"
...HMS Enterprise.
You know, some say that the most famous ship in the world is Hood. Or maybe New Jersey. Or maybe even Yamato, though she hasn't come back yet. They're all lying to you though. The most famous warship in the world, nay, in history...is Enterprise. The most powerful warship ever put to sea, who made her foes tremble with fear! Who struck down any and all who got in her way. Those same people who tell you she isn't the most famous warship ever put to sea, are the same ones who will tell you she hasn't returned to answer the call. Oh they make excuses, but they're just lying.
Because Enterprise has returned. Returned, and already destroyed many Abyssal warships. So many, it isn't worth counting them in fact! Enterprise is the best ship there ever was, and she has proven that time and time again. After all, when the Abyssals turn tail and run whenever the mere mentioning of her name is done, it is quite a powerful sign. Just yesterday, she felled two Abyssal battleships, along with a fleet carrier!
I should know, as Enterprise is...me! Yes, I know Enterprise is back because I am...
"Enterprise!"
"Damn it! Emerald, I'm working!"
"Working on that trashy novel, I'm sure."
HMS Emerald's voice carried more than a little exasperation, as she walked into the room. The light cruiser brushed the green hair that was a mark of her name out of her face, equally green eyes looking at Enterprise with a strict look. A look that the brown haired girl returned, not even flinching back. Why should she? After all, what was a light cruiser to the most powerful aircraft carrier ever put to sea? Nothing, that's what!
No matter how much the glare in those green eyes made her want to find a hole to hide in, no sir.
"You know, sometimes I wonder about you Enterprise." Emerald finally turned away, sighing dramatically.
"Hey!"
"You know, you don't have to live up to that legend. Be yourself, for the love of God."
Enterprise's face shifted into an affronted look, as she glared at the other girl, "I am being myself! I'm Enterprise, you know!"
"Yes, I am aware."
Emerald just shook her head, leaning against the door. Her eyes roved up and down the other girl, dressed in an old-fashioned USN uniform. One that was quite out of place in Britain, but hey, this was Enterprise. If she wanted to wear a USN uniform, she damn well could. And nothing that Emerald would say could change her mind on that. Something the light cruiser knew well, as she sighed again. Running a hand over her face, Emerald pushed away from the doorjam, her eyes looking between it and the other warship seated on her bed.
"Well, whatever the case, we are supposed to escort Renown to France. So get back in your actual uniform, and come along."
"I..."
"Don't backtalk me, little sister."
Enterprise grumbled, as Emerald left the room. Turning back to her computer, the girl continued her writing.
...and, as she continues to fight the Abyssal threat back one base at a time, Enterprise...I...know one thing. That history will never forget the name...
Speaking those words in her best Sir Patrick Stewart impersonation, Enterprise smirked...until Emerald's voice echoed through the room.
"And stop pretending to be that Yank!"
...HMS Enterprise.
Stahor
BookWorm
- Location
- Russia, Moscow
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
Because it's super active, full of awesome, and has 500% your daily reccomended dose of ALL 'MERICAN CUTE BATTLESHIPS?
That extra at the end was hilarious. Damn Yanks, always causing problems.
But as a whole, that was an interesting piece. Having the focus shift over to Warspite and touching on the loss of Victory was nice to see along with the bits about the girls and situations in other parts of Europe. Things are not well off.
As for Warspite herself I think she's a bit of an uptight one, but that's probably to be expected. She strikes me as one with a short, cool fuse. Don't piss her off, you will regret it but you won't see it coming.
Very nice.
Also this is becoming more and more of a thing.
Yes, I am writing. It's just taking for-bloody-ever.
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
Speaking of Kongou and Iowa...
Fighting fire with fire there, eh Kongou?
Fighting fire with fire there, eh Kongou?
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
- Location
- United States
Not sure if she's in here yet, (Only at part 32) but I want to see CA-35 Heavy Cruiser Indianapolis, with a few personal touches I would like. 1- She's terrified of sharks. There's a tragic reason for that, that if you read up on her would become apparent. 2- She dislikes japanese subs.
USS Indianapolis (CA-35) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
USS Indianapolis (CA-35) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
IT CONTINUES
NHO
Dumb is a state of existence
- Location
- ᓚᘏᗢ
Knocking out and stripping Kongou to steal her clothes aren't wisest course of actions, Iowa. Please, stop.
- Location
- Quezon City, Philippines
IT CONTINUES
That isn't Iowa. Her fuel tanks are too small.
(don't kill me)
Someone came up with a great idea for her in the SB thread.
Let's see... Where is it...
Ah... Here it is.
- Location
- Vancouver, Washington
Is Indianapolis wearing a green cap and jacket? *Watches her down a keg of beer and crush the keg.*
Part 54: Um.... oops?
- Location
- 'Murica
Heermann rested her arms on the rim of the hot tub and smiled. She honestly couldn't be happier. Her sisters—and little Sammy too!—were snuggled around her like a whole fleet of soft teddy bears. Her belly was full of fresh warm toast and her very favoritest food: scrambled eggs with plenty of pepper and just a dash of salt.
Even the wounds on her legs had dulled away. Gone were the shooting pains she'd felt every time the tattered steel twisted the wrong way. Instead, the stumpy remains of her shins just… tingled. The teeny torches and grinders of her faeries tickled the insides of her skin as they went about preparing her for a step-stagger weld.
It felt like someone was touching her with a feather, but in a kind of way where they could pretend they weren't touching her at all the instant someone with authority noticed.
But the thing that made her happiest of all were the antics going on over in the swimming pool. Miss Musashi and Jersey were busy brawling in the water. But not in the violent kind of way battleships normally brawled while they were in the water. It was a playful brawl, like the kind that Heermann and her sisters would get up to—at least when Gale wasn't looking.
Jersey was having fun! Heermann couldn't help but giggle as she saw her very favoritest momboat thrashing miss Musashi around the water! Heermann didn't remember much from… from the time after she was hit. But she knew her Jersey had been really sad. She didn't know how she knew, but it was just a feeling.
Something in the big battleship broke in the Bering sea. But now it was fixed! Jersey wasn't fretting over Heermann's stumpy legs anymore, she was… she was being herself.
It made Heermann's day—probably her whole week—when the little destroyer saw Jersey's face split into a smile. She loved her momboat's smile. It wasn't pretty or elegant, but the lopsided grin that pushed Jersey's cheeks up so far she was almost squinting was just the cutest thing Heermann'd ever seen! Jersey didn't wear it often, but she looked so happy when she did.
Things only got better when Tenryuu—her second favorite momboat—and the Japanese destroyers came in with lunch.
Unlike her sisters, who ate nothing but traditional American food, Heermann's service with the Argentinians had given her a more refined palate. But she was still an American at heart. She loved burgers with every fiber of her heart. If she had a heart. She still wasn't quite sure where the 'girl' ended and the 'ship' began.
But that was a question for another time. A time when there were not burgers. Mmmm…. burgers…
The Japanese girls—except Naka and the destroyers who'd been stationed in Washington—froze at the sight of that much hearty food. Musashi stared longingly at the trays. Mutsu cuddled her belly while her eyes started to tear up. Akagi stared slack-jawed at the trays and drooled.
Jersey, however, had no such hesitation. "C'mon!" she barked as she waded over to the pool side. She planted her hands on the smooth coral-green tile and pulled herself out of the water with a grunt, sending sheets of oily water cascading of her muscled back.
Heermann smiled at that. She might not be a battleship, but she could still be proud of all the perfect American Engineering that went into her flagship.
"Dig the fuck in!" barked Jersey as she piled up a small mountain's worth of burgers onto a tray.
The formerly-frozen Japanese ships in the pool erupted into a flurry of action. The pool churned white as every girl scrambled to the poolside with all the horsepower their plants could manage. There was some other stuff going on too, but Heermann was more preoccupied with watching Jersey walk over with lunch.
"Jersey!" Heermann threw her arms up in happiness at the sight of her beloved flagship—and the burgers in her arms.
"Are those for us?" Hoel pointed to the mountain of burgers-with-everything.
"You're the best!" cheered Sammy.
Johnston didn't say anything. She was too busy staring slack-jawed at the way Musashi's swimsuit supported—or failed to support—her main battery. At least until Hoel elbowed her in the ribs. "Ow, hey!"
"I did nothing," said Hoel with an angelic little smile.
Sammy's hand crashed against her face like an overweight pigeon encountering a skyscraper window for the first time.
Jersey blinked, frozen halfway through the process of setting her tray down next to the pool. "Little shits," she scowled. Or at least tried to scowl. That lopsided Jersey-smile stubbornly held its grasp on her face, so her attempt at scowling just made it even more lopsided.
"You love us though." Heermann reached out to hug Jersey's arm as tightly as she could.
"Oh, I love you, Heermann," Jersey leaned over the pile of burgers to heard her flotilla into a hug, "And you," she roped Hoel into the pile. "And you," Sammy giggled as she got added in too.
"What about me?" Johnston's feathers slumped into a pout that matched her screwed up little face.
"Nah," Jersey winked, "You're just a little shit."
"Aww…" Johnston hung her head in mock shame.
"A gullible little shit at that," said Jersey, "Get your perverted ass over here!"
"YAY!" Johnston darted over to join the group hug.
And then she had an idea. The kind of idea that could be shared with her sisters with nary more than a significant glance. The kind of idea that would get them all in sooo much trouble. But would be sooo worth it.
This was going to be epic.
"NOW!" barked Hoel.
At her command, the three Fletchers—plus little Sammy—pulled with all their might. Jersey was already leaning over the lip of the hot tub, they just… need… to… overbalance… her…
Heermann panted. This was harder than it looked. She was straining away with all her might, but Jersey wasn't even budging.
"Girls?" said the battleship.
"Yeah?" Johnston's face was beet red as she strained to topple the battleship into the tub.
"I displace fifty-seven thousand tons."
"And?" asked Hoel.
"All of you only displace seven thousand," said Jersey. The battleship made a show of casually taking a bite from her burger while her flotilla still struggled in vain to send her toppling into the water.
"Darn," said Heermann. It would've been so funny!
"We'll try it again later, don't worry!" cheered Johnston.
"Maybe White could help?" suggested Sammy.
Hoel sighed as she slumped back into the water. "I wonder what she's up to right now."
—|—|—
Fleet Carrier Kaga stood with her hands on her hips. Her fingers were carefully placed to present the appearance of her usual stoic calm without putting any pressure on the ragged flesh around her slowly-healing torpedo wounds. She might wince in pain every time she accidentally brushed her bruises, but she was a carrier of the Kido Butai. She would not—could not—show weakness. Especially not in front of the impressionable light carriers.
And so Kaga stood on the water, her eyes lidded as her scouts whirred across the surface, her ears attuned to the tiny hum of radial engines echoing against the tiled walls.
This had been a swimming pool once, a pool that Kaga could barely fit into—at least if she was in her rigging. Now, it was the base ASW training pool.
The modification had been extensive—and from what Kaga understood, quite expensive. The tiled surface of the pool had been covered with thick, rubbery mats to absorb echoes and muffle the engine noise of any lurking submarine. The water had been dyed a dull—and nearly opaque—ocean blue to further mask a submarine's shadow. Dotted thought the pool were obstacles and man-made sandbars, giving submarines places to hide, and places where the shallow bottom would force them to the surface.
But the expense had been well worth it. Days at sea—braving the ever-present threat of abyssal ships all the while—could be compressed into a few hours in the safety of the training pool. And all under the watchful eye of an instructor.
Kaga let out a hot breath. She'd found Iku lurking in the acoustic shadow of an island nearly half an hour ago, and her planes had been hammering the lewd girl's location with depth charges ever since.
Kaga scowled to no one in particular. It grated on her to spend so much time—even with the compression of operating without rigging—prosecuting a submarine that likely sunk after the first attack. She was a fleet carrier, she had more crucial things to take care of. She wanted nothing more than to break off and find something useful to do.
But Kaga refused to bow to the temptation. White's training had hammered the virtue of patience into the fleet carrier's soul. She would stay on-station until she knew Iku no longer presented a threat.
"Kaga-san!" Shigure, one of Kaga's escorting destroyers, tugged at the carrier's loose sleeve. "Hydrophone contact."
Kaga followed the slender line of the destroyer's finger. Whatever the destroyer heard, it wasn't Iku.
"Spotting a strike," said Kaga. Normally, she'd have simply vectored a few planes from the group already harassing Iku to sniff out the new contact. But White had—somewhat arbitrarily—declared that Kaga's fore elevator was jammed in the up position. She couldn't keep that many planes in the air, forcing her to improvise.
It was a skill she was still honing, but the fleet carrier was determined to practice until she could improvise with clockwork perfection.
Kaga felt faeries scramble along her deck as a flight of B6Ns were brought up to the flight deck to be fueled and armed. Kaga would've preferred to streamline the process by fueling and arming her planes in their hangers, but she fought back her instincts. She would not forget the lessons of Midway.
"Preparing to launch." Kaga drew her bowstring back with a quick yank. There was none of the graceful artistry she normally displayed; she simply pulled the string back far enough to get her plane in the air, then let fly.
Instead of letting the string flip around to her wrist, Kaga's fingers raced it to her bow, catching it moments after it sent her first arrow hurtling into the air. There was no time to do things gracefully, she need only do them fast.
Kaga caught the string with the thick leather of her glove and fished an arrow from the bundle held in her left hand. The deck-park technique White had shown her had almost made up the speed lost by fueling on deck. Almost.
Kaga was seconds away from letting her second B6N fly when she heard a frantic chatter coming from her faerie CAP. The carrier's eyes jolted to the miniaturized Reppus.
A flight of equally-tiny Avengers—backed up by a trio of Wildcat fighters and a giggling White Plains—screamed towards her with all the fury of their full-sized selves. During the war, this kind of situation would've sent even the level-headed Kaga into a panic.
But not today. Today, Kaga knew what to do. The carrier tossed her arrow into the pool. A fueled, armed torpedo bomber was nothing more than a very dangerous hazard if it was caught on deck. Instead, she reached for one of the fighter-arrows she clutched in her off-hand. The benefits of deck park; she always had a few spare Reppus on hand.
"Not today, White-sama," smiled Kaga. She felt her faeries scrambling to their battle stations. AA gunners manned their tiny mounts, while aviation crews secured ordnance and purged her avgas lines with inert gas. Kaga would not fall prey to—as White so eloquently put it—an "explosive fart."
"Is that sooo?" White giggled as her planes bore down Kaga with all the speed their tiny little engines could manage.
Kaga just nodded as she let her fighter-arrow fly.
—|—|—
Kaga sat motionless in Akashi's waiting room. Her back was straight as an ar- as a ramrod. Her features were perfectly still as she fumed in the most stoic manner possible. Sweat beaded along her eyebrows and flashed to steam against the burning heat of her temples.Her hands rested calmly in her lap, and her gaze was locked dead ahead.
"I'm not mad you know," said White with a smile so huge it threatened to leap off her face. The little carrier was as sweet as ever, even with an arrow embedded deep into her shoulder. If anything, she looked happier than she normally was.
Kaga let out a quick breath through her nose. The tendons in her neck went taut as she was forced once again to acknowledge her mistake. "I don't want to talk about it."
Even the wounds on her legs had dulled away. Gone were the shooting pains she'd felt every time the tattered steel twisted the wrong way. Instead, the stumpy remains of her shins just… tingled. The teeny torches and grinders of her faeries tickled the insides of her skin as they went about preparing her for a step-stagger weld.
It felt like someone was touching her with a feather, but in a kind of way where they could pretend they weren't touching her at all the instant someone with authority noticed.
But the thing that made her happiest of all were the antics going on over in the swimming pool. Miss Musashi and Jersey were busy brawling in the water. But not in the violent kind of way battleships normally brawled while they were in the water. It was a playful brawl, like the kind that Heermann and her sisters would get up to—at least when Gale wasn't looking.
Jersey was having fun! Heermann couldn't help but giggle as she saw her very favoritest momboat thrashing miss Musashi around the water! Heermann didn't remember much from… from the time after she was hit. But she knew her Jersey had been really sad. She didn't know how she knew, but it was just a feeling.
Something in the big battleship broke in the Bering sea. But now it was fixed! Jersey wasn't fretting over Heermann's stumpy legs anymore, she was… she was being herself.
It made Heermann's day—probably her whole week—when the little destroyer saw Jersey's face split into a smile. She loved her momboat's smile. It wasn't pretty or elegant, but the lopsided grin that pushed Jersey's cheeks up so far she was almost squinting was just the cutest thing Heermann'd ever seen! Jersey didn't wear it often, but she looked so happy when she did.
Things only got better when Tenryuu—her second favorite momboat—and the Japanese destroyers came in with lunch.
Unlike her sisters, who ate nothing but traditional American food, Heermann's service with the Argentinians had given her a more refined palate. But she was still an American at heart. She loved burgers with every fiber of her heart. If she had a heart. She still wasn't quite sure where the 'girl' ended and the 'ship' began.
But that was a question for another time. A time when there were not burgers. Mmmm…. burgers…
The Japanese girls—except Naka and the destroyers who'd been stationed in Washington—froze at the sight of that much hearty food. Musashi stared longingly at the trays. Mutsu cuddled her belly while her eyes started to tear up. Akagi stared slack-jawed at the trays and drooled.
Jersey, however, had no such hesitation. "C'mon!" she barked as she waded over to the pool side. She planted her hands on the smooth coral-green tile and pulled herself out of the water with a grunt, sending sheets of oily water cascading of her muscled back.
Heermann smiled at that. She might not be a battleship, but she could still be proud of all the perfect American Engineering that went into her flagship.
"Dig the fuck in!" barked Jersey as she piled up a small mountain's worth of burgers onto a tray.
The formerly-frozen Japanese ships in the pool erupted into a flurry of action. The pool churned white as every girl scrambled to the poolside with all the horsepower their plants could manage. There was some other stuff going on too, but Heermann was more preoccupied with watching Jersey walk over with lunch.
"Jersey!" Heermann threw her arms up in happiness at the sight of her beloved flagship—and the burgers in her arms.
"Are those for us?" Hoel pointed to the mountain of burgers-with-everything.
"You're the best!" cheered Sammy.
Johnston didn't say anything. She was too busy staring slack-jawed at the way Musashi's swimsuit supported—or failed to support—her main battery. At least until Hoel elbowed her in the ribs. "Ow, hey!"
"I did nothing," said Hoel with an angelic little smile.
Sammy's hand crashed against her face like an overweight pigeon encountering a skyscraper window for the first time.
Jersey blinked, frozen halfway through the process of setting her tray down next to the pool. "Little shits," she scowled. Or at least tried to scowl. That lopsided Jersey-smile stubbornly held its grasp on her face, so her attempt at scowling just made it even more lopsided.
"You love us though." Heermann reached out to hug Jersey's arm as tightly as she could.
"Oh, I love you, Heermann," Jersey leaned over the pile of burgers to heard her flotilla into a hug, "And you," she roped Hoel into the pile. "And you," Sammy giggled as she got added in too.
"What about me?" Johnston's feathers slumped into a pout that matched her screwed up little face.
"Nah," Jersey winked, "You're just a little shit."
"Aww…" Johnston hung her head in mock shame.
"A gullible little shit at that," said Jersey, "Get your perverted ass over here!"
"YAY!" Johnston darted over to join the group hug.
And then she had an idea. The kind of idea that could be shared with her sisters with nary more than a significant glance. The kind of idea that would get them all in sooo much trouble. But would be sooo worth it.
This was going to be epic.
"NOW!" barked Hoel.
At her command, the three Fletchers—plus little Sammy—pulled with all their might. Jersey was already leaning over the lip of the hot tub, they just… need… to… overbalance… her…
Heermann panted. This was harder than it looked. She was straining away with all her might, but Jersey wasn't even budging.
"Girls?" said the battleship.
"Yeah?" Johnston's face was beet red as she strained to topple the battleship into the tub.
"I displace fifty-seven thousand tons."
"And?" asked Hoel.
"All of you only displace seven thousand," said Jersey. The battleship made a show of casually taking a bite from her burger while her flotilla still struggled in vain to send her toppling into the water.
"Darn," said Heermann. It would've been so funny!
"We'll try it again later, don't worry!" cheered Johnston.
"Maybe White could help?" suggested Sammy.
Hoel sighed as she slumped back into the water. "I wonder what she's up to right now."
—|—|—
Fleet Carrier Kaga stood with her hands on her hips. Her fingers were carefully placed to present the appearance of her usual stoic calm without putting any pressure on the ragged flesh around her slowly-healing torpedo wounds. She might wince in pain every time she accidentally brushed her bruises, but she was a carrier of the Kido Butai. She would not—could not—show weakness. Especially not in front of the impressionable light carriers.
And so Kaga stood on the water, her eyes lidded as her scouts whirred across the surface, her ears attuned to the tiny hum of radial engines echoing against the tiled walls.
This had been a swimming pool once, a pool that Kaga could barely fit into—at least if she was in her rigging. Now, it was the base ASW training pool.
The modification had been extensive—and from what Kaga understood, quite expensive. The tiled surface of the pool had been covered with thick, rubbery mats to absorb echoes and muffle the engine noise of any lurking submarine. The water had been dyed a dull—and nearly opaque—ocean blue to further mask a submarine's shadow. Dotted thought the pool were obstacles and man-made sandbars, giving submarines places to hide, and places where the shallow bottom would force them to the surface.
But the expense had been well worth it. Days at sea—braving the ever-present threat of abyssal ships all the while—could be compressed into a few hours in the safety of the training pool. And all under the watchful eye of an instructor.
Kaga let out a hot breath. She'd found Iku lurking in the acoustic shadow of an island nearly half an hour ago, and her planes had been hammering the lewd girl's location with depth charges ever since.
Kaga scowled to no one in particular. It grated on her to spend so much time—even with the compression of operating without rigging—prosecuting a submarine that likely sunk after the first attack. She was a fleet carrier, she had more crucial things to take care of. She wanted nothing more than to break off and find something useful to do.
But Kaga refused to bow to the temptation. White's training had hammered the virtue of patience into the fleet carrier's soul. She would stay on-station until she knew Iku no longer presented a threat.
"Kaga-san!" Shigure, one of Kaga's escorting destroyers, tugged at the carrier's loose sleeve. "Hydrophone contact."
Kaga followed the slender line of the destroyer's finger. Whatever the destroyer heard, it wasn't Iku.
"Spotting a strike," said Kaga. Normally, she'd have simply vectored a few planes from the group already harassing Iku to sniff out the new contact. But White had—somewhat arbitrarily—declared that Kaga's fore elevator was jammed in the up position. She couldn't keep that many planes in the air, forcing her to improvise.
It was a skill she was still honing, but the fleet carrier was determined to practice until she could improvise with clockwork perfection.
Kaga felt faeries scramble along her deck as a flight of B6Ns were brought up to the flight deck to be fueled and armed. Kaga would've preferred to streamline the process by fueling and arming her planes in their hangers, but she fought back her instincts. She would not forget the lessons of Midway.
"Preparing to launch." Kaga drew her bowstring back with a quick yank. There was none of the graceful artistry she normally displayed; she simply pulled the string back far enough to get her plane in the air, then let fly.
Instead of letting the string flip around to her wrist, Kaga's fingers raced it to her bow, catching it moments after it sent her first arrow hurtling into the air. There was no time to do things gracefully, she need only do them fast.
Kaga caught the string with the thick leather of her glove and fished an arrow from the bundle held in her left hand. The deck-park technique White had shown her had almost made up the speed lost by fueling on deck. Almost.
Kaga was seconds away from letting her second B6N fly when she heard a frantic chatter coming from her faerie CAP. The carrier's eyes jolted to the miniaturized Reppus.
A flight of equally-tiny Avengers—backed up by a trio of Wildcat fighters and a giggling White Plains—screamed towards her with all the fury of their full-sized selves. During the war, this kind of situation would've sent even the level-headed Kaga into a panic.
But not today. Today, Kaga knew what to do. The carrier tossed her arrow into the pool. A fueled, armed torpedo bomber was nothing more than a very dangerous hazard if it was caught on deck. Instead, she reached for one of the fighter-arrows she clutched in her off-hand. The benefits of deck park; she always had a few spare Reppus on hand.
"Not today, White-sama," smiled Kaga. She felt her faeries scrambling to their battle stations. AA gunners manned their tiny mounts, while aviation crews secured ordnance and purged her avgas lines with inert gas. Kaga would not fall prey to—as White so eloquently put it—an "explosive fart."
"Is that sooo?" White giggled as her planes bore down Kaga with all the speed their tiny little engines could manage.
Kaga just nodded as she let her fighter-arrow fly.
—|—|—
Kaga sat motionless in Akashi's waiting room. Her back was straight as an ar- as a ramrod. Her features were perfectly still as she fumed in the most stoic manner possible. Sweat beaded along her eyebrows and flashed to steam against the burning heat of her temples.Her hands rested calmly in her lap, and her gaze was locked dead ahead.
"I'm not mad you know," said White with a smile so huge it threatened to leap off her face. The little carrier was as sweet as ever, even with an arrow embedded deep into her shoulder. If anything, she looked happier than she normally was.
Kaga let out a quick breath through her nose. The tendons in her neck went taut as she was forced once again to acknowledge her mistake. "I don't want to talk about it."
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Well, this isn't the first time Kaga has had to deal with such an incident...
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
In this case, it would be Kaga who shot someone. The expression whould have no change thougWell, this isn't the first time Kaga has had to deal with such an incident...
SaltyWaffles
I am dissapoint, son
- Pronouns
- He/Him
So, uh...how did Kaga manage to shoot White in the shoulder with a real arrow? Why was she even aiming at White? And why did the arrow not turn into planes?
- Location
- 'Murica
A) Kaga was aiming at White because White was standing behind the planes she'd just sortied. White was acting as the aggressor for the training exercise.)
B) Since it was a training exercise without using rigging, the magic bullshit is weaker than usual, allowing Kaga's arrow to be a real arrow and a squadron of planes at the same time.
C) I've been dying to reference the image @Harry Leferts posted for months.
- Location
- Vancouver, Washington
Sara has asked me to pass along her appreciation for the fine work White Plains has done with Kaga.
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
I like how Kaga has thrown herself into mastering a new skill instead of regarding it as "beneath her". Sure as a fleet carrier it probably isn't going to be something she'll do very much but she can (like Houshou) help pass it down to the light carriers who help more frequently and hey, it might come in handy one day...
With that said, if Zuikaku every comes back, Kaga'll probably do her utmost to prevent turkey from ever hearing about some of these incidents that occurred in training exercises. Not only would it be extremely embarrassing to her sense of rivalry with 5th CarDiv, but Zuikaku might hurt herself by bursting a boiler laughing or something...
With that said, if Zuikaku every comes back, Kaga'll probably do her utmost to prevent turkey from ever hearing about some of these incidents that occurred in training exercises. Not only would it be extremely embarrassing to her sense of rivalry with 5th CarDiv, but Zuikaku might hurt herself by bursting a boiler laughing or something...
SaltyWaffles
I am dissapoint, son
- Pronouns
- He/Him
If you think a fleet carrier doesn't need to know ASW, you're dead wrong. Submarines are tied with other carriers for being the greatest threat to a fleet carrier. Flying ASW CAP is something a fleet carrier should be doing often whenever in waters where a sub can be lurking.
Hell, you know what the very first Japanese warship to be sunk in WW2 was? A submarine. By Enterprise. Shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor, too. And either Lexington, Yorktown, or Saratoga also found and attacked another Japanese sub around that same time, albeit without any real success.
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obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
Not what I meant. What I mean is if it's something that happens, it is something that happens in the course of Kaga performing her normal duties as a Fleet Carrier. But as a Fleet Carrier, she is not going to be assigned specifically to an ASW role... fleet carriers are to important to be used for pure sub chasing missions. That's what you use light (and escort, but Japan doesn't/didn't have any of those) carriers for.
Oh yeah, that did happen in story isn't it?