Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
CompassJimbo
Where’s Your North?
- Location
- The former Rubber Capital of the World
For a moment I thought you said Lawyers, and I was like, "Why would the site owners be involved?"
And then things got complicated.
- Location
- 'Murica
Crowning knit his brows as a low, rumbling growl fought its way up his throat and past the bristling palisade of his close-cropped beard. The professor glared at the rows—and rows and rows—of books filling his shelves. His gaze swept over their uncooperative spines like the singular unshaded bulb in the cliché interrogation scene.
He was missing something. There was an answer waiting for him in one of those musty tomes, he knew it. He just didn't know where it was. Or what it was. Or what the question was. He just couldn't shake the feeling in the back of his mind that there was some part of the puzzle he hadn't found yet.
But that feeling was almost drowned out by another, much more potent feeling. New Jersey, the woman he loved more than anything in life, the fighting paladin of silk and steel was hurting. She was hurting and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
It ate at him, rendering even Bannie's delicious cooking barely even palatable. Jersey was hurting and he couldn't help her, not unless he could figure out why she was… unless he could figure out those dreams. He refused to accept that she was a demon, a traitor, or anything but the hero she was born to be.
"Dammit," Crowning grunted under his breath. His fingernails bit into his palms as he clenched his fists. He could go on for hours about how Jersey was… was everything. But he couldn't, not now. Not when he had a war to win.
Before he could droop back into his brooding, a few brief knocks at his door drew his attention. "Hey, Doc?" the tell-tale sing-song lilt of Lou's accent bounced though the air, "Ya got a minute?"
Crowning sighed. Staring at his books for another hour wasn't going to help. "Yeah, come in."
"Thanks," Lou smiled even wider than normal as she slipped though the door. Her coppery red hair flickered like a bonfire, and the cruiser clasped her hands behind her back. The leather of her gun-harness creaked as she shifted her hips from side to side. "So, uh… Hi."
Crowning cocked an eyebrow and settled down on the edge of his desk. "So, what brings you here, Lou?"
Lou's cheeks blushed almost as red as her hair, and she quietly pushed the door closed with the heel of her boot. "I need your help, doc. Apparently… you're the base expert on shipgirl romance?"
"How did you-"
"Cruiser," Lou waved up and down her sinewy body with a timid smirk.
Crowning hung his head, "Is there anything you don't know?"
Lou giggled, "How many babies you and Jersey are gonna have?"
For a moment, Crowning lost himself in an unexpected thought. Jersey and him, smiling from ear to ear while she balanced a tiny little thing on her leg—with another happily working up in the oven. Then he came to his senses. "Lou?"
"Huh?"
"There's a bet on this, isn't there."
"Oooooh yeah," Lou smiled. "Pola's got twenty bucks on three."
"Pola?" Crowning frowned. He didn't know any girls by that name, it didn't sound Japanese and it sure as hell wasn't American.
"Regina Marina," said Lou. "She's based down in… Sicily I think."
"Sicily," Crowning sighed. "Are there are girls who don't know about me and Jersey?"
"Nope!" Lou beamed a brilliant smile at him.
"Do I want to know what you've got money on?"
"I've got fifty bucks that says the two of you'll crap out at least five," Lou sighed wistfully into the middle distance.
"Five?" Crowning winced at the thought. He might love Jersey, but imagining her trying to ride heard on five little boatlets was… terrifying. To say nothing of five rounds of pregnant Jersey cravings.
"It's my favorite number," explained Lou. "Besides, you're telling me you're not gonna stick that torpedo up her skirt every chance you get."
Crowning opened his mouth, but all that came out were the wordless mouth flaps of a goldfish abruptly removed from the comfort of its little bowl. That mental image was one he… he honestly wished never entered his mind. He had a hard enough time focusing around her when she was just being cute, not hot. "Well," the professor coughed, "You came here for help?"
"Mmhm," Lou nodded, her mane of flaming hair falling over her shoulders as she leaned in. She glanced over one shoulder, examining her surrounding for any eavesdroppers before doing the same over her other shoulder. "So… Yeoman Gale…"
Crowning didn't say a word. This was going to go poorly and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.
"She's a lesbian, right?"
Crowning had to think for a moment. Not to find the answer, that had been blatantly obvious from the moment he met her, but just to get his mind back into some semblance of order. "Yeah…"
"Is uh," Lou flipped a chuck of her coppery hair, "Is she into redheads?"
Crowning swore he heard record players screech. "Uh…"
Lou smiled and lazily turned a chunk of her messy mane around between her gloved fingers, one hand resting on the professor's desk while she awaited her answer.
"I…" Crowning shook his head, "I think…" he scowled. There was no easy way out here. Gale's crush on Wash was infamous, but the battleship's feelings were far harder to read. Crowning would hate to ruin her chances with Wash. But could a challenger finally prompt Wash to do something obvious?
Luckily, a brisk knock on the door saved Crowning from having to answer. Muttering a brief prayer of thanks to whatever wacky god watched over the affairs of shipgirls, he leaned out from behind Lou's sinewy bulk and tried to find his voice. "Y-yeah? Come in."
"Thank you."
Crowning's face paled. The door swung on its hinges like greased lighting, its motion seeming far more fluid and graceful simply by being in the presence of the girl it opened to reveal.
The massively busty frame of battleship Washington stood waiting in the doorway. Her short splinter-pattered miniskirt rustled over her broad hips, and her long silk scarf fluttered in a gust that somehow managed to perfectly frame her porcelain face with that beautiful russet brown hair.
"Wash?" Crowning sighed.
"Wash!" Lou lept off Crowning's desk so fast her head left a dent in the ceiling. "HeyHiIHaveToGoGotCruiserThingsToDoBye!" She dashed past the serene battleship, nearly colliding with the latter's breasts before bolting down the hallway as fast as her sinewy legs could carry her.
For a few seconds, the sounds of Lou's guns clattering in her harness were the only things to be heard.
The Wash covered her mouth and let out a polite cough.
"So," Crowning sighed, "That happened."
"It did indeed," Wash nodded sagely. "May I come in?"
"I… I said you could," said the Professor.
"Yes, but… the last time you did, I snuck up on you regardless."
"Right," Crowning sighed, "Well, you're welcome to enter this time."
Wash smiled and sashayed into the room with that hip-swinging gait of hers. It reminded Crowning of Jersey's walk, only Wash had a bit more ladylike swoosh on her step and far less prideful swagger. Her short miniskirt bounced at her hips, threating her dignity if it weren't for her tight undershorts and thigh-high stockings. "I would like to enlist your help, doctor." The battleship smiled and placed a plate full of fresh-baked cookies on his desk, "And I've brought these as payment."
Crowning arched an eyebrow and popped one of the soft cookies into his mouth. The chocolate chips were just barely cool enough to hold together, and the mere heat of his body was enough to cause them to melt on his tongue.
The professor thought, then swallowed."Okay," he said, "What do you need?"
"I need your help in the area of… romance," Wash sheepishly scuffed one boot against the back of her ankle, her gaze drifting to her toes—or where her toes would be if her upperworks weren't in the way.
Crowning coughed, "Uh… what?"
"Romance," said the serene battleship. "Love. With your literary training you must be familiar with the subject, and given that Jersey's carrying your bun in her-"
"What!" Crowning's eyes almost bugged out of his face.
Wash blinked. "Is that not what the bet was about?"
"No!" Crowning shook his head, "No, that's… we've…"
"But you do want to?" asked Wash. There wasn't a note of subtext in her voice, just an honest question from a kind young woman.
"Yes! Wait!" Crowning scowled, "Wash, you never heard any of this."
The battleship nodded.
"And you never tell Jersey."
"Tell her what?" For a second, Crowning thought Wash had just missed the point like her usual oblivious self. Then she flashed him a tiny glimmer of a wink. "So you do know romance?"
"More or less," sighed Crowning, "Why?"
"I…" Wash wrung her hands, "I spent last night at Yeoman Gale's apartment."
Crowning arched his eyebrow. If the two were finally getting together… not only did it mean some much needed happiness for his friend the sailor, it meant a tidy prize for Crowning. He had a hundred bucks on them making out before the end of the year.
"Her tummy is…" Wash sighed. Actually sighed, her face fell into a contented smile and her cheeks glowed a rosy hue, "the most perfect pillow I've ever enjoyed."
"Oh is it?" said Crowning.
Wash nodded, "But when we woke up this morning… Gale didn't want anything to do with me."
Crowning knit his brows. That didn't make sense, didn't make any sense at all. "Pardon?"
"I offered to make her breakfast," said Wash, "I thought… I thought maybe she might be interested in me, so I showed off a little." The battleship mimed working at an imaginary counter. Her back was arched just enough to thrust out her butt,the hem her miniskirt riding up just enough to display the tight fabric of her undershorts over her stern.
"And?" Crowning took a brief glance at the battleship's stern. He was so shocked at Wash's sudden display of… well that, that it almost drowned out the part of his mind yelling about how much better Jersey's aft was.
"And," Wash drifted back into her usual stature, her skirt falling back down to cover her shafts, "Her eyes went everywhere but me." The battleship's shoulders slumped, "Does she think I'm ugly?"
"You?" Crowning glanced over the battleship's figure. Her bulging breasts, her slender waist, her broad hips. He could see why Gale would feel jealous—or worse yet, ugly—next to curves like that. "I… don't think that's the problem."
"Oh?" Wash tilted her head.
"Wash, uh," Crowning bit his lip. He was treading on thin ice, and he already knew he'd left the boundaries of Gale's privacy behind long long ago. But still, she was his friend. He couldn't bring himself to… to violate her trust like that. "This is something you should really talk to her about."
"I tried," said Wash, "While we ate breakfast, I tried to bring it up," the battleship's already cloudy countenance dimmed even more, "she wouldn't even look me in the eyes."
Crowning winced, and he brought both hands up to massage his temples, "Wash, how much did you eat?"
"Not much," said Wash. For a second she waited, then a faerie popped out of her cleavage and handed her a tiny folder. "Oh, thank you, chief."
The faerie snapped off a salute before ducking back into the folds of Wash's uniform vest.
"Let's see…" Wash flipped open the thumbnail-sized folder and squinted at the minute writing. "Two hundred twenty three pancakes; eight-eight links of sausage; eighty-two eggs, scrambled—" The battleship's voice trailed off, her mouth making a tiny "o" shape. "Oh," she mumbled.
"Yeah," Crowning gave her a pat on the shoulder.
"I…" Wash crumpled the report in her hands, "This is all my fault."
"No, Wash," Crowning sighed. "You couldn't have known."
"I… I should have," Wash collapsed onto her haunches with a quiet whimper.
Crowning frowned and mussed the quiet battleship's hair. "Wash, you made a mistake. That's all. It just means you're human."
Wash blinked, "But I'm not. I'm a—"
"A ship, yes," Crowning sighed. "Look… you want to make this better?"
Wash nodded glumly.
"Gale likes you," said the Professor, "She knows you meant well, and she's not going to hold it against you."
"You really think so?" Wash stared up at him, utter incredulity in her eyes.
"Yeah," Crowning nodded, "Romance expert, remember?"
Wash didn't look any less unsure.
"Look, you want to make this work?"
Wash nodded, "Very much so, sir."
"Okay," Crowning settled back against the corner of his desk. "Do something with her, not for her."
Wash's head tilted to the side like a confused puppy.
"She plays DnD, doesn't she?" said Crowning. "Ask if you can join. Get her comfortable with you as… as something more than a girl who eats more than she can."
"Oooooh," Wash nodded, "Okay. That makes sense." The battleship sprung to her feet, her hand snapping to her brow in a crisp salute. "Battleship Washington, Weigh Anchor!"
"Wash?"
"What?" The battleship stopped her storming walk half-way to the door.
"We have a summoning to be at," Crowning glanced at his watch, "In twenty minutes."
"Oh," Wash's shoulders slumped, but not nearly as far as they had earlier. "Later then?"
"Later." Crowning smiled and gave the busty battleship a gentle side-hug. A hug that she gleefully returned. "But not too much later."
—|—|—
Yeoman Sarah Gale stood pressed up against the summoning chamber railing and tried her very best to keep from squealing like a three year old presented with an all-you-can-eat candy buffet. She tried, and failed. Failed utterly and miserably.
A wordless, girlish squeal of utter bliss slipped through her lips. Her heart fluttered against her chest like sixteen butterflies flitting around with electric energy. She wasn't sure where she got 'sixteen' from, but it just felt… right.
"Gale?" Lou's easy-going accent danced out a few feet from Gale's waiting ear.
Gale squealed again as her utter glee mixed with a note of surprise.
"Easy, girl," Lou smiled, then looked down and gave her shirt a quick tug. After a moment contemplating her own bosom, the cruiser glanced over at Gale and shot her one of those fireside-warm Lou smiles. "What's got you so excited?"
Gale tried to form a coherent word, but all that came out was another giddy scream. At least this time she managed to jab her finger at the orchestra assembling at the center of the summoning chamber.
An orchestra led by a nondescript man in a crisp suit. A nondescript man with a smile on his round face like a balding, giddy Santa Claus.
Lou pursed her lips and stared at the man. Her gaze locked in on his balding silver hair with the kind of focus only a cruiser could really manage. Her hips bumped against Gale's as she jockeyed for position.
Gale couldn't tear her eyes off the man with the conductor's wand, even as he lead the orchestra in their warm-up. Until she bounced into something else. Something wrapped around her arm like a comforting fleece blanket straight out of the dryer. Something soft and warm and squishy and firm. Something that could only be a certain battleship's breasts.
"Mrph!" was the most eloquent thing Gale could manage as she slowly ratcheted her head over to her side. Wash was standing there, seemingly oblivious to the sailor's arm planted firmly in her cleavage. Her nice, soft cleavage.
Wash just smiled that airy smile of hers and tossed a loose strand of hair back with a flick of her head. One arm crossed across her waist, pinning Gale's arm against her bosom.
"So, Gale," Lou coughed, her voice a tiny bit more focused than normal. "Who is that?"
It was at that moment that the orchestra swelled with a soaring mix of strings and brass. A march of idealism and hope that everyone in the room knew.
Daaaaaa Da Da Daaa DA DA DA
Lou's chest swelled with pride at the song she didn't—couldn't recognize. But it didn't matter, those few notes were all she needed. She knew what it was. "Superman," she breathed.
Gale, however, was far less solemn. The sailor just squealed incoherently and would have fallen to the floor if Wash wasn't pinning her arm into her cleavage. "JOHN WILLIAMS!"
—|—|—
Peace. Darkness. Still…
The Depths wrapped around her, cradling her in its embrace, protecting her with its vastness. Offering her the rest of one who'd done her duty.
Through two brutal wars she'd done her duty.
She'd seen her charges die before her eyes.
Seen them vanish in pillars of fire and powder by an enemy they never knew.
Seen them die slow, painful deaths as their crew begged to be rescued. So close she could hear their cries, yet still beyond her grasp.
For every ship she'd seen die, she'd seen a dozen brutally mauled.
Their turrets wrecked, their decks shredded, their bows twisted and mangled.
Their spirits unbroken.
General Quarters
She did not fight with them, she could not.
But she gave her last measure keeping them in the fight.
General Quarters
For the first time in as long as her shadowy memory could recall, she was warm.
Boilers clanked to life as she woke from her long slumber.
General Quarters
She heard a voice. Not the thundering concussion filling her brain, the echoing thunder of her klaxon, the screams of an air-raid nobody saw coming.
No, she heard voices. Hundreds of them.
Begging for her return, pleading for her to join their cause.
But one stood out among the many.
A voice she hadn't heard in far, far too long.
The voice of her beloved captain.
Lads, we're getting this ship underway
She smiled, the warmth of the sun beaming against her face.
Her slumber was over.
She gathered her crew, her tools, her very soul, and turned her bow to the sun.
Weigh Anchor.
—|—|—
The summoning chamber fell into a silence to complete even a pin dropping would be deafening, but Admiral Williams barely even noticed the change. His attention—practically his whole universe—tunneled down around the girl waiting patiently in the middle of the glass-smooth summoning pool.
She was old—by shipgirl standards—she looked like she was at least in her thirties. Two bulging leather-on-canvas tool belts hung off her hips, forming an ad-hoc skirt covering her ragged, oil-splattered shorts. A cropped leather welding jacket hung off her shoulders, its chunky brass fasteners gleaming in the candle light.
Her hands were planted on her hips, hems of her gloves rolled back over her wrists. Her long gray-streaked-brown hair faded to coal black at the tip of her lazy ponytail, but her brilliant green eyes quivered with laser-like focus.
On her shoulders, a full half-dozen faeries in miniature canvas diving suits stood on her shoulders. Their hoses trailed along to the harness on her back, and each carried a tiny, mirror-polished brass helmet under its tiny arm.
The girl stiffened as she saw Williams—and the stars resting on his collar. "Sir!" she brought one hand up to the mirrored welding goggles pushed up onto her forehead. The diving fairies mimicked her motion with their heavy mittens. "Repair ship USS Vestal, AR-4, reporting."
Williams smiled, and returned her salute with one of his own. "Vestal, you don't know how glad we are to have you back."
"I'm glad to be back, sir." Vestal smiled, flashing teeth stained with coal and grit. "Let's get to work."
He was missing something. There was an answer waiting for him in one of those musty tomes, he knew it. He just didn't know where it was. Or what it was. Or what the question was. He just couldn't shake the feeling in the back of his mind that there was some part of the puzzle he hadn't found yet.
But that feeling was almost drowned out by another, much more potent feeling. New Jersey, the woman he loved more than anything in life, the fighting paladin of silk and steel was hurting. She was hurting and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
It ate at him, rendering even Bannie's delicious cooking barely even palatable. Jersey was hurting and he couldn't help her, not unless he could figure out why she was… unless he could figure out those dreams. He refused to accept that she was a demon, a traitor, or anything but the hero she was born to be.
"Dammit," Crowning grunted under his breath. His fingernails bit into his palms as he clenched his fists. He could go on for hours about how Jersey was… was everything. But he couldn't, not now. Not when he had a war to win.
Before he could droop back into his brooding, a few brief knocks at his door drew his attention. "Hey, Doc?" the tell-tale sing-song lilt of Lou's accent bounced though the air, "Ya got a minute?"
Crowning sighed. Staring at his books for another hour wasn't going to help. "Yeah, come in."
"Thanks," Lou smiled even wider than normal as she slipped though the door. Her coppery red hair flickered like a bonfire, and the cruiser clasped her hands behind her back. The leather of her gun-harness creaked as she shifted her hips from side to side. "So, uh… Hi."
Crowning cocked an eyebrow and settled down on the edge of his desk. "So, what brings you here, Lou?"
Lou's cheeks blushed almost as red as her hair, and she quietly pushed the door closed with the heel of her boot. "I need your help, doc. Apparently… you're the base expert on shipgirl romance?"
"How did you-"
"Cruiser," Lou waved up and down her sinewy body with a timid smirk.
Crowning hung his head, "Is there anything you don't know?"
Lou giggled, "How many babies you and Jersey are gonna have?"
For a moment, Crowning lost himself in an unexpected thought. Jersey and him, smiling from ear to ear while she balanced a tiny little thing on her leg—with another happily working up in the oven. Then he came to his senses. "Lou?"
"Huh?"
"There's a bet on this, isn't there."
"Oooooh yeah," Lou smiled. "Pola's got twenty bucks on three."
"Pola?" Crowning frowned. He didn't know any girls by that name, it didn't sound Japanese and it sure as hell wasn't American.
"Regina Marina," said Lou. "She's based down in… Sicily I think."
"Sicily," Crowning sighed. "Are there are girls who don't know about me and Jersey?"
"Nope!" Lou beamed a brilliant smile at him.
"Do I want to know what you've got money on?"
"I've got fifty bucks that says the two of you'll crap out at least five," Lou sighed wistfully into the middle distance.
"Five?" Crowning winced at the thought. He might love Jersey, but imagining her trying to ride heard on five little boatlets was… terrifying. To say nothing of five rounds of pregnant Jersey cravings.
"It's my favorite number," explained Lou. "Besides, you're telling me you're not gonna stick that torpedo up her skirt every chance you get."
Crowning opened his mouth, but all that came out were the wordless mouth flaps of a goldfish abruptly removed from the comfort of its little bowl. That mental image was one he… he honestly wished never entered his mind. He had a hard enough time focusing around her when she was just being cute, not hot. "Well," the professor coughed, "You came here for help?"
"Mmhm," Lou nodded, her mane of flaming hair falling over her shoulders as she leaned in. She glanced over one shoulder, examining her surrounding for any eavesdroppers before doing the same over her other shoulder. "So… Yeoman Gale…"
Crowning didn't say a word. This was going to go poorly and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.
"She's a lesbian, right?"
Crowning had to think for a moment. Not to find the answer, that had been blatantly obvious from the moment he met her, but just to get his mind back into some semblance of order. "Yeah…"
"Is uh," Lou flipped a chuck of her coppery hair, "Is she into redheads?"
Crowning swore he heard record players screech. "Uh…"
Lou smiled and lazily turned a chunk of her messy mane around between her gloved fingers, one hand resting on the professor's desk while she awaited her answer.
"I…" Crowning shook his head, "I think…" he scowled. There was no easy way out here. Gale's crush on Wash was infamous, but the battleship's feelings were far harder to read. Crowning would hate to ruin her chances with Wash. But could a challenger finally prompt Wash to do something obvious?
Luckily, a brisk knock on the door saved Crowning from having to answer. Muttering a brief prayer of thanks to whatever wacky god watched over the affairs of shipgirls, he leaned out from behind Lou's sinewy bulk and tried to find his voice. "Y-yeah? Come in."
"Thank you."
Crowning's face paled. The door swung on its hinges like greased lighting, its motion seeming far more fluid and graceful simply by being in the presence of the girl it opened to reveal.
The massively busty frame of battleship Washington stood waiting in the doorway. Her short splinter-pattered miniskirt rustled over her broad hips, and her long silk scarf fluttered in a gust that somehow managed to perfectly frame her porcelain face with that beautiful russet brown hair.
"Wash?" Crowning sighed.
"Wash!" Lou lept off Crowning's desk so fast her head left a dent in the ceiling. "HeyHiIHaveToGoGotCruiserThingsToDoBye!" She dashed past the serene battleship, nearly colliding with the latter's breasts before bolting down the hallway as fast as her sinewy legs could carry her.
For a few seconds, the sounds of Lou's guns clattering in her harness were the only things to be heard.
The Wash covered her mouth and let out a polite cough.
"So," Crowning sighed, "That happened."
"It did indeed," Wash nodded sagely. "May I come in?"
"I… I said you could," said the Professor.
"Yes, but… the last time you did, I snuck up on you regardless."
"Right," Crowning sighed, "Well, you're welcome to enter this time."
Wash smiled and sashayed into the room with that hip-swinging gait of hers. It reminded Crowning of Jersey's walk, only Wash had a bit more ladylike swoosh on her step and far less prideful swagger. Her short miniskirt bounced at her hips, threating her dignity if it weren't for her tight undershorts and thigh-high stockings. "I would like to enlist your help, doctor." The battleship smiled and placed a plate full of fresh-baked cookies on his desk, "And I've brought these as payment."
Crowning arched an eyebrow and popped one of the soft cookies into his mouth. The chocolate chips were just barely cool enough to hold together, and the mere heat of his body was enough to cause them to melt on his tongue.
The professor thought, then swallowed."Okay," he said, "What do you need?"
"I need your help in the area of… romance," Wash sheepishly scuffed one boot against the back of her ankle, her gaze drifting to her toes—or where her toes would be if her upperworks weren't in the way.
Crowning coughed, "Uh… what?"
"Romance," said the serene battleship. "Love. With your literary training you must be familiar with the subject, and given that Jersey's carrying your bun in her-"
"What!" Crowning's eyes almost bugged out of his face.
Wash blinked. "Is that not what the bet was about?"
"No!" Crowning shook his head, "No, that's… we've…"
"But you do want to?" asked Wash. There wasn't a note of subtext in her voice, just an honest question from a kind young woman.
"Yes! Wait!" Crowning scowled, "Wash, you never heard any of this."
The battleship nodded.
"And you never tell Jersey."
"Tell her what?" For a second, Crowning thought Wash had just missed the point like her usual oblivious self. Then she flashed him a tiny glimmer of a wink. "So you do know romance?"
"More or less," sighed Crowning, "Why?"
"I…" Wash wrung her hands, "I spent last night at Yeoman Gale's apartment."
Crowning arched his eyebrow. If the two were finally getting together… not only did it mean some much needed happiness for his friend the sailor, it meant a tidy prize for Crowning. He had a hundred bucks on them making out before the end of the year.
"Her tummy is…" Wash sighed. Actually sighed, her face fell into a contented smile and her cheeks glowed a rosy hue, "the most perfect pillow I've ever enjoyed."
"Oh is it?" said Crowning.
Wash nodded, "But when we woke up this morning… Gale didn't want anything to do with me."
Crowning knit his brows. That didn't make sense, didn't make any sense at all. "Pardon?"
"I offered to make her breakfast," said Wash, "I thought… I thought maybe she might be interested in me, so I showed off a little." The battleship mimed working at an imaginary counter. Her back was arched just enough to thrust out her butt,the hem her miniskirt riding up just enough to display the tight fabric of her undershorts over her stern.
"And?" Crowning took a brief glance at the battleship's stern. He was so shocked at Wash's sudden display of… well that, that it almost drowned out the part of his mind yelling about how much better Jersey's aft was.
"And," Wash drifted back into her usual stature, her skirt falling back down to cover her shafts, "Her eyes went everywhere but me." The battleship's shoulders slumped, "Does she think I'm ugly?"
"You?" Crowning glanced over the battleship's figure. Her bulging breasts, her slender waist, her broad hips. He could see why Gale would feel jealous—or worse yet, ugly—next to curves like that. "I… don't think that's the problem."
"Oh?" Wash tilted her head.
"Wash, uh," Crowning bit his lip. He was treading on thin ice, and he already knew he'd left the boundaries of Gale's privacy behind long long ago. But still, she was his friend. He couldn't bring himself to… to violate her trust like that. "This is something you should really talk to her about."
"I tried," said Wash, "While we ate breakfast, I tried to bring it up," the battleship's already cloudy countenance dimmed even more, "she wouldn't even look me in the eyes."
Crowning winced, and he brought both hands up to massage his temples, "Wash, how much did you eat?"
"Not much," said Wash. For a second she waited, then a faerie popped out of her cleavage and handed her a tiny folder. "Oh, thank you, chief."
The faerie snapped off a salute before ducking back into the folds of Wash's uniform vest.
"Let's see…" Wash flipped open the thumbnail-sized folder and squinted at the minute writing. "Two hundred twenty three pancakes; eight-eight links of sausage; eighty-two eggs, scrambled—" The battleship's voice trailed off, her mouth making a tiny "o" shape. "Oh," she mumbled.
"Yeah," Crowning gave her a pat on the shoulder.
"I…" Wash crumpled the report in her hands, "This is all my fault."
"No, Wash," Crowning sighed. "You couldn't have known."
"I… I should have," Wash collapsed onto her haunches with a quiet whimper.
Crowning frowned and mussed the quiet battleship's hair. "Wash, you made a mistake. That's all. It just means you're human."
Wash blinked, "But I'm not. I'm a—"
"A ship, yes," Crowning sighed. "Look… you want to make this better?"
Wash nodded glumly.
"Gale likes you," said the Professor, "She knows you meant well, and she's not going to hold it against you."
"You really think so?" Wash stared up at him, utter incredulity in her eyes.
"Yeah," Crowning nodded, "Romance expert, remember?"
Wash didn't look any less unsure.
"Look, you want to make this work?"
Wash nodded, "Very much so, sir."
"Okay," Crowning settled back against the corner of his desk. "Do something with her, not for her."
Wash's head tilted to the side like a confused puppy.
"She plays DnD, doesn't she?" said Crowning. "Ask if you can join. Get her comfortable with you as… as something more than a girl who eats more than she can."
"Oooooh," Wash nodded, "Okay. That makes sense." The battleship sprung to her feet, her hand snapping to her brow in a crisp salute. "Battleship Washington, Weigh Anchor!"
"Wash?"
"What?" The battleship stopped her storming walk half-way to the door.
"We have a summoning to be at," Crowning glanced at his watch, "In twenty minutes."
"Oh," Wash's shoulders slumped, but not nearly as far as they had earlier. "Later then?"
"Later." Crowning smiled and gave the busty battleship a gentle side-hug. A hug that she gleefully returned. "But not too much later."
—|—|—
Yeoman Sarah Gale stood pressed up against the summoning chamber railing and tried her very best to keep from squealing like a three year old presented with an all-you-can-eat candy buffet. She tried, and failed. Failed utterly and miserably.
A wordless, girlish squeal of utter bliss slipped through her lips. Her heart fluttered against her chest like sixteen butterflies flitting around with electric energy. She wasn't sure where she got 'sixteen' from, but it just felt… right.
"Gale?" Lou's easy-going accent danced out a few feet from Gale's waiting ear.
Gale squealed again as her utter glee mixed with a note of surprise.
"Easy, girl," Lou smiled, then looked down and gave her shirt a quick tug. After a moment contemplating her own bosom, the cruiser glanced over at Gale and shot her one of those fireside-warm Lou smiles. "What's got you so excited?"
Gale tried to form a coherent word, but all that came out was another giddy scream. At least this time she managed to jab her finger at the orchestra assembling at the center of the summoning chamber.
An orchestra led by a nondescript man in a crisp suit. A nondescript man with a smile on his round face like a balding, giddy Santa Claus.
Lou pursed her lips and stared at the man. Her gaze locked in on his balding silver hair with the kind of focus only a cruiser could really manage. Her hips bumped against Gale's as she jockeyed for position.
Gale couldn't tear her eyes off the man with the conductor's wand, even as he lead the orchestra in their warm-up. Until she bounced into something else. Something wrapped around her arm like a comforting fleece blanket straight out of the dryer. Something soft and warm and squishy and firm. Something that could only be a certain battleship's breasts.
"Mrph!" was the most eloquent thing Gale could manage as she slowly ratcheted her head over to her side. Wash was standing there, seemingly oblivious to the sailor's arm planted firmly in her cleavage. Her nice, soft cleavage.
Wash just smiled that airy smile of hers and tossed a loose strand of hair back with a flick of her head. One arm crossed across her waist, pinning Gale's arm against her bosom.
"So, Gale," Lou coughed, her voice a tiny bit more focused than normal. "Who is that?"
It was at that moment that the orchestra swelled with a soaring mix of strings and brass. A march of idealism and hope that everyone in the room knew.
Daaaaaa Da Da Daaa DA DA DA
Lou's chest swelled with pride at the song she didn't—couldn't recognize. But it didn't matter, those few notes were all she needed. She knew what it was. "Superman," she breathed.
Gale, however, was far less solemn. The sailor just squealed incoherently and would have fallen to the floor if Wash wasn't pinning her arm into her cleavage. "JOHN WILLIAMS!"
—|—|—
Peace. Darkness. Still…
The Depths wrapped around her, cradling her in its embrace, protecting her with its vastness. Offering her the rest of one who'd done her duty.
Through two brutal wars she'd done her duty.
She'd seen her charges die before her eyes.
Seen them vanish in pillars of fire and powder by an enemy they never knew.
Seen them die slow, painful deaths as their crew begged to be rescued. So close she could hear their cries, yet still beyond her grasp.
For every ship she'd seen die, she'd seen a dozen brutally mauled.
Their turrets wrecked, their decks shredded, their bows twisted and mangled.
Their spirits unbroken.
General Quarters
She did not fight with them, she could not.
But she gave her last measure keeping them in the fight.
General Quarters
For the first time in as long as her shadowy memory could recall, she was warm.
Boilers clanked to life as she woke from her long slumber.
General Quarters
She heard a voice. Not the thundering concussion filling her brain, the echoing thunder of her klaxon, the screams of an air-raid nobody saw coming.
No, she heard voices. Hundreds of them.
Begging for her return, pleading for her to join their cause.
But one stood out among the many.
A voice she hadn't heard in far, far too long.
The voice of her beloved captain.
Lads, we're getting this ship underway
She smiled, the warmth of the sun beaming against her face.
Her slumber was over.
She gathered her crew, her tools, her very soul, and turned her bow to the sun.
Weigh Anchor.
—|—|—
The summoning chamber fell into a silence to complete even a pin dropping would be deafening, but Admiral Williams barely even noticed the change. His attention—practically his whole universe—tunneled down around the girl waiting patiently in the middle of the glass-smooth summoning pool.
She was old—by shipgirl standards—she looked like she was at least in her thirties. Two bulging leather-on-canvas tool belts hung off her hips, forming an ad-hoc skirt covering her ragged, oil-splattered shorts. A cropped leather welding jacket hung off her shoulders, its chunky brass fasteners gleaming in the candle light.
Her hands were planted on her hips, hems of her gloves rolled back over her wrists. Her long gray-streaked-brown hair faded to coal black at the tip of her lazy ponytail, but her brilliant green eyes quivered with laser-like focus.
On her shoulders, a full half-dozen faeries in miniature canvas diving suits stood on her shoulders. Their hoses trailed along to the harness on her back, and each carried a tiny, mirror-polished brass helmet under its tiny arm.
The girl stiffened as she saw Williams—and the stars resting on his collar. "Sir!" she brought one hand up to the mirrored welding goggles pushed up onto her forehead. The diving fairies mimicked her motion with their heavy mittens. "Repair ship USS Vestal, AR-4, reporting."
Williams smiled, and returned her salute with one of his own. "Vestal, you don't know how glad we are to have you back."
"I'm glad to be back, sir." Vestal smiled, flashing teeth stained with coal and grit. "Let's get to work."
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- Location
- State of Denial
Ari-Vestal reunion just leapfrogged to the top of my wish list.
Great chapter, but I don't know if I should root for Lou or Wash for Gales heart.
Great chapter, but I don't know if I should root for Lou or Wash for Gales heart.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Wha? Do what they did back in WWII and every war before and since: Marry her now, because you don't know if she'll be coming back alive or not! Get swept up in the fervor of the war!
Uh huh.
Surprise: Zero.
I don't know which is less surprising: That this is a fantasy, or that this is something I've seen more then once in doujins.
rofl:Just... so... much... lewd jokes.
We know Jersey can do 5+, because she manages the Taffies and more. OTOH, they're destroyers. She'll have whole divisions of Baby Battleships.
You are a lying liar who lies. You enjoyed that image and wish it stuck there.
Huh. Did not expect that.
rofl:Now you I expected.
Yup. You're a hopeless man Crowning.
I think I know where this is going.
Stop lying, you know it's true.
Ah. Showing off+Waking up in bed+food/body image=embarrassment.
... Ok. I'll give it to you, that one was clever.
Eh, you're learning.
D&D? Pft. Try a real man's game!
Ok, who's he?
Oblivious, me overweight ass.
Ok, that was awesome.
Ah, one of the rare repair ships of the worlds' navies, and one with service in both world wars.
She's had her hands in dozens of vesels, ranging from Saratoga, Pensacola, Independence, Washington, South Dakota twice, and even Lucky-E. She's faced kamikazes, U-boats, and even has two battle-stars. She's a battlefield mechanic, a true embodiment of United States technical prowess, advancement, and ingenuity. If any ship could stand as a SeaBee, it's her.
- Location
- Just north of those yodelling mountain tribes.
Whiskey Golf
Being of Editing & Technical Assistance
- Location
- Chained to my desk
Polygamy is still against the law jn the us, even if gay marriage is no longer forbidden.What is this "or" you speak of?
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Given the as-explicit-as-possible-for-the-board content and jokes TheJMPer has continually featured in this story, you think he won't throw in a harem, a lesbian harem no less, if he put it 'tastefully' enough for the mods and got it to make sense for the story?
- Location
- Just north of those yodelling mountain tribes.
So they'll just "live in sin" and not make it official until there are at least ship girl specific modifications to that law. (come on guys they are saving all our asses, they deserve some perks)
... unless that was a wink with a clue by four.
Whiskey Golf
Being of Editing & Technical Assistance
- Location
- Chained to my desk
Basicslly, for married benefits etc, Gale can only marry Wash or Lou. However any unofficial arrangement that has the spare girl living with the marrieds wouldn't be too haram.
Oh what am i kidding, gales lesbian harem is haram in malaysia. Good thing they're in Murica.
A more pressing issue is that if Wash and Lou are officers they can't marry gal, because she's enlisted. That's a major no-no and UCMJ violation. I do know of one officer-enlisted couple, but they got married while she was a civvie and he was a marine officer, and after she finished nursing school she went army.
Spectre
eternal servant to the Fire/EMS gods
- Location
- NY
Ok I could see that being a problem if their in the same unit (and no technically Gale isn't in the same unit, she's support Wash and Lou are frontline combat. that's two separate CoC even if its the same CO.) But otherwise that seems to be a really outdated rule.
Dark Mage
Sanity is really overrated...
- Location
- Out of My Mind
I can't stand that trope! Now you had to tear away the veil of denial I used to enjoy this story!
WHY!
. . .
OK, now that I got that out of my system, I await for the next installment of the story.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Why you ask?
I can't stand that trope! Now you had to tear away the veil of denial I used to enjoy this story!
WHY!
Simple.
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Hey! Hey hey hey! It's a Fleet, not a harem. Get your ship shipping tropes right!
Dark Mage
Sanity is really overrated...
- Location
- Out of My Mind
@Always Late,
Don't stand there taking pictures, grab a shovel and help me dig myself out!
@theJMPer,
Oh, I don't have a problem with how you are presenting this trope (I actually find it funny and entertaining). I just feel too many anime/manga cheapen themselves by going the harem route. Your harem comment just hit one of my buttons.
So don't you DARE change anything on my account! Keep up the good work.
Yeah....Like Jersey's harem/fleet! I wanna see that portion of the plot resolved too!
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
And then you've got me juggling Aussiebotes and Eurobotes as well.
Adamantium9001
Sworn enemy of the dragon-tyrant
- Location
- Inside my own head
"Are there girls..."
1) Put a comma after "well." 2) Put either a comma and/or* another "that" after the existing "that." (The second "that" shouldn't be italicized.)
*My recommendation: do both.
Wrong gender and "voice" instead of "mouth."
I believe you meant, not nearly as far.
Missing space
Missing a noun: two bulging leather-on-canvas whats?
Dark Mage
Sanity is really overrated...
- Location
- Out of My Mind
But of course!
< . <
> . >
Where else would I go for Old Iron's stories?