De3ta
Mae
- Location
- The hellish pit known as New Jersey
Please. a bear can't be cute enough to-*sees the whole picture*
-Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw. *Melts*
Daaaaw.The towering battleship smiled weakly at him. Her hair streamed down her back in a messy waterfall, and tears were melting off those stunning ice-blue eyes. "Um… hey," she mumbled. Her hands hung loosely off the waist of her sweatpants, and even her "MAXIMUM OVERTSUN" tank-top looked more subdued than normal.
"Is… everything alright?" Crowning bit his lip. He'd seen her sad like this before, and it always felt like someone twisting a knife into his heart.
"Mmhm," Jersey nodded glumly. "Um…" she shuffled a bit closer, her head just barely clearing the door frame. "Can I have a hug?"
Jersey, you do realize that Harrison Ford's been trying to get Han killed for decades, right?"He's dead," whispered Jersey.
"Hmm?" Crowning froze. As far as he knew, Jersey didn't know many men, at least not men she cared about so deeply. Most of her friends were girls, and he'd have known about any of the Admirals passing.
Jersey sniffed, and buried her face in his hair again. "H… han," she whimpered. "He's dead."
"Oh, Jersey…" Crowning squeezed her tighter, until he could almost feel the gentle hum of her shafts running down her toned back. He held her tight for almost five minutes before his sleepy brain shook off the cobwebs enough to make the connection. "Wait…"
"Hmm?" Jersey sniffed and tried to squeeze herself tigther into the hug. All she really managed to do was grind her hips against him though.
"You mean…" Crowning coughed. It was surprising hard to breath with an avatar of American Fighting Spirit hugging him, "Han Solo."
You are a lying liar who lies Crowning."Well…" Jersey sighed, and wiped her face with the back of her hand. "It's also… you know… my last night before I ship out again."
Crowning froze. Part of him thought she'd ask for… part of him wished that she'd ask for a night of solace and passion, but he quashed that thought as quickly as he could. Jersey was a woman of valor and duty, not some object to be lusted over. "Yes?"
Daaaaaaw.To his surprise, Jersey got up and followed him, but there was an odd halting jilt to her actions. She moved like she was trying to reign herself in, but only halfheartedly.
"Jersey?" Crowning cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Think…" the battleship clasped her hands behind her back and nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. It would've been adorable if it wasn't so terribly attractive. "Think I could sit on your lap?"
Crowning blinked, "Is that a totally good idea?"
"Maybe?" Jersey shrugged. "I've sat on flimsy stuff before, I don't think I'll break you."
"Fair enough," Crowning settled back on his chair and waited for the battleship to make her move.
Jersey's cheeks blushed a brilliant red, and she slowly took a step closer. Then another. Then she swung one long leg over his lap and settled herself in place. Crowning grunted as she put her full weight down. She was titanically heavy, heavier than even a woman of her staggeringly amazonian proportions should be.
Then again, muscle weighs more than fat, and steel weighs still more.
* WAFF intensifies*"Um," Jersey blinked. Her arms rested around his neck and her chest hovered tantalizingly close to his face. So close he locked his eyes on hers forbid himself from looking elsewhere.
"Hmm?" Crowning ran his hands along her thighs. Even though the fabric of her sweats, he felt her muscles twitch and slide like oiled pistons. Great bundles of sleeping strength lay like napping pythons, just waiting to unleash their great and terrible might.
"If you say I'm fat," Jersey's face twisted into a scowl, "I'll fucking eat your…" she blushed, "You know."
The professor smirked, "Head scratchy?"
"Please?"
"For you," Crowning started plucking at the crown of her head like a blond-stringed guitar, "Anything."
And so the courting begins..."No!" Kirishima flailed her arms in the air, whipping Wash with the tips of her flowing detached sleeves. "You mustn't dirty yourself."
Wash blinked, "Is that not the point of this outfit?"
"What?" Kirishima sighed. "No, Wash… I…"
"Then why am I dressed like this?"
"So that Yeoman Gale will notice you!"
Wash huffed, and experimentally poked at the space-age fabric. "It doesn't seem very modest."
"That's the point," grumbled Kirishima. "You want Gale to notice you."
This explanation should be good./sarcasm."You sure it's not too ostentatious?" Wash wound a strand of her russet-brown hair around her finger and thought.
"No!" Krishima waved her finger in front of the American's face. "Well, yes, but not for today. It's like a night battle."
Wash blinked, then slowly shifted her gaze from an indistincint point beyond the horizon to the Japanese battleship's beautiful storm-gray gaze. "What?"
Do I even need to mention all the ways that is hilariously illegal?Kirishima huffed, evidently upset her metaphor wasn't clearly understood. "You glide though the night like a specter. Watching, observing, yet unnoticed."
Wash fished a notebook out of her bra, grabbed the pencil stuck behind her ear, and started taking notes.
"Then," Kirishima hunched over, all but whispering into the American's ear with conspiratorial glee, "Just when your target's least expecting it… YASEN!" She threw her arms up and belted out the word at the top of her very considerable lungs. "You strike her with the full force of your BURNING LOVE!"
AKA: Be a giant cocktease.Wash recoiled as spit sprayed over her face, but notes flowed as quickly as ever from her pencil.
"Then you fade," said Kirishima, "Vanish into the night like a dream, leaving your target dazed, confused, and consumed by lust for something she knew but for an instant."
Experts my pasty white ass.Wash nodded. It was an interesting tactic. The kind of thing she'd never think of, let alone try. But then again, Kirishima and Kongou were the resident experts in love and romance.
... I gravely fear meeting this individual."An interesting technique."
"Isn't it?" Kirishima planted her hands on her hips with a dreamy sigh.
"How'd you come up with it?"
The Japanese girl seemed to deflate. "A, uh… friend taught me," she mumbled, "this one time in…" her voice trailed off into nothing.
"Oh," Wash nodded. "You'll have to introduce me to this friend of yours."
Well... they did camouflage and ninja-roll in in the anime, Batman disappearance antics is not too out there."Now go! I'll be watching you from the ceiling."
Wash blinked. "How will you…" but Kirishima was gone. In her place was only a small pile of powdered drywall and the rustle of a ceiling tile being put back in place. "Huh," Wash put a finger to her chin, "So that's what that feels like."
Jersey blatantly toys with Musashi's blatant lust."That's…" Crowning smiled at her, "looks like you're in good hands."
"I know!" Jersey gave her chest a pat, "Mushi's sooo jealous."
"AM NOT!" thundered the Japanese super battleship.
"ARE FUCKING TOO!" Jersey bent over so Musashi had a good look and gave herself a good grope.
Crowning approves of swinging, confirmed.She also shook her stern a little, buffeting one of her pier crew in the helmet and giving Crowning a perfect view of her quadruple shafts. So the professor wasn't too upset about her gratuitous showboating.
This shit again..... "Oh, one thing."
"Hmm?" Crowning stuffed his hands in his pockets and kept out of her launch crew's way.
"I bought you something," Jersey fished around in her pocket, "For Christmas. I meant to wrap it, but…" she trailed off. "I didn't. 'cause I'm a lazy fuck."
"Jersey, you're not—" Crowning's objection died when she handed him a box that couldn't have possibly fit into her shorts pocket. A 1/700th scale model kit of… herself.
Fuck you Kongou.Kongou gasped and applauded, earning herself a stink eye from the American.
"In my defense," said Jersey, "I didn't know what that mean when I bought this."
Crowning has drunk the Kool-Aid. There is no saving him.Crowning smiled. As nice as the idea of Jersey with a daughter or two was
Actually, they should be. Kongou said she's going to have them, ergo, Kongou will find a way to have children.
FTFY.
Missing period, or missing words?Jersey smiled, then glanced around. Her own launch crew were busy stowing their tools, Kongou was working up steam, and Musashi was focused on making sure her breasts were being properly leered at.
And Jersey says she can't deal with her feelings."And, uh…" the battleship blushed and took a step closer to Crowning. There was just enough difference between the water she stood on and the pier he stood on to put him almost at her eye level.
For a second, she froze. Then she put her hands around him and drew him close for a kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut as their lips met, and she allowed herself only the briefest taste before pulling away. "I… I owed you that."
Because fanservice.Also, Wash was so much stronger than her it wasn't even funny. Gale considered a reasonably strong woman, but Wash was borderline superhuman. She couldn't quite see how much the battleship was squatting, there were three hulking Marines on each side spotting her in awe, but it had to be at least three hundred pounds.
And of course, she was doing all this without a shirt on, which only highlighted her belly. Wash wasn't as shredded as Jersey was, Gale didn't think any living woman had that level of definition, but her belly was tight and toned. Which only made her bulging chest more frustrating.
Boobs are made of fat! Why does she have fat there but not elsewhere.
The tiles are nothing but thin, highly porous pieces of recycled wood. What did you think was going to happen?Moments after the sailor had collected her stuff and left, there was a rustle in the ceiling. Powdered drywall fell from the rafters, followed shortly thereafter by a ceiling tile. And then a short-haired Kongou-class battleship landed flat on her stern in the middle of the free weight area with a crash of steel and flesh.
"Okay," Kirishima rubbed her bruised rear, "that did not go as planned."
Atago bounced over with her usual glowing enthusiasm. "Panpakapan!" she pulled up abreast of the bigger American with a glowing smile and a friendly giggle.
... you know what, you earned
She couldn't even pick an actually good Weebl song."Narwhals, Narwhals, swimmin' in the Ocean!" the airy, lilting accent of airborne aircraft carrier-/dirigible-/zeppelin-/whatever she decided she wanted to be called today- Akron filled the Eastern Seaboard Combined ASW command's TOC.
"Somethin' somethin' awesome!" she sang with reckless abandon.
Stop singing before someone shoots you! Like me!Meanwhile, Admiral Carraway stared into the inky abyss of his coffee cup and tried to hate it out of existence. It didn't work, just like the last thirty-seven times he'd tried that. The coffee, like Akron and her sister Maccon's sunny disposition and airheaded attitude, was all but immune to the feeble powers of the Brass Stare.
"Somethin' something' touch your balls!" Akron giggled and for a moment there was peace and quiet. Mostly because she needed to take a breath to continue singing.
The same song.
She'd been singing.
For the past three hours.
And she didn't even know most of the words!
"Akron!" Carraway tore a handset out of its cradle and snapped at the loopy carrier.
Yeah. You are not singing Weebl unless you are bored out of your mind.There was a pause. "Admiral?" said Akron with solemn dignity. Then she audible smiled,"Hey, wadddup?"
Carraway sighed. It was impossible to stay mad at her for long. Her planes and the 'cats under her command had all but eliminated the sub threat in American waters. She'd earned a little eccentricity, and she was too damn sunny to get mad at anyways. "Akron…" Carraway planted a hand on his hip and paced his usual route, "I know it can get boring up there."
"Not really," protested the airship. But as sweet and kind as she was, she was an awfullier.
Shipgirl thwarting the spirit of the order in 3, 2, 1,"I don't mind you singing to pass the time."
"Awesome!"
"But please," Carraway bit back the pleading tint to his voice. He had sailors around him after all, he had to project the image of a strong, respected commander. Not a man desperately pleading with a girl-who-was-also-a-blimp to stop cheerily driving him mad. "Make sure you know the words first."
"Oh, okay!" chirped Akron, "sorry."
OK, that's it. I'm signaling all hands to open the sea valves and abandon the ship.The handset was barely back in its cradle when she started up her next song.
"NyanNyanNyanNyanNyanNyanNyanNyanNyanNyan-" she belted out the words at the top of her lungs, giggling every few repetitions with that cheerful giggle of hers.
Hoo boy."Admiral," every shred of levity was gone from the airship's voice. Carraway'd never heard her be this focused. Even when she was harassing subs to their doom she kept at least a hint of bouncy sun in her voice.
"Yes," Carraway clutched the handset to his face, "This is Carraway, what's up?"
"Battle fleet coming though the Bahamas," said Akron. "Heavy surface fleet. Looks like three cruisers and—" there was a pause. "That's gotta be a battlecruiser, but I don't recognize the desi-wait."
"Akron?" Carraway clenched at the handset.
"Okay," Akron's voice was quiet and haunted. "I… I recognize that now."
Good for you 'Laska!Atago smiled and popped a cherry in her mouth. This party was going swimmingly! Alaska hadn't just met the boy she'd been dreaming wistfully about all these months, she was actually talking with him!
Well, okay, he was doing most of the talking while she nervously fidgeted and stammered out one-or-two word responses. But the level of fidgeting was going don at a small but noticeable rate. Atago considered that a success. She was well on her way to achieving her goal of getting Alaska a much-deserved boyfriend!
Akron's report demands a big response.But before she could indulge in her fantasy of domestic bliss any further, someone tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, ma'am?"
"Yes?" Atago smiled and spun on her heel.
The smile vanished. A very young, very scared sailor stared back at her. "Ma'am," he worried the hem of his uniform jacket, "You're needed back at base. All of you."
Well shit. Air and undersea attack are out. This'll have to be a surface engagement."Oh no," she breathed.
Three cruisers steamed in a narrow arrowhead formation. Alaska knew the sleek, multi-turreted design by heart. Atlantas. Her stomach twisted inside her at the sight. Those were American ships, but they were notAmerican. She let out a low, involuntary hiss. Her hands shook too badly to write, and the corners of her vision tinged a pinkish red. Those ships were not her friends.
Her friends… Flint and Sandy and… Juneau and San Juan… and all of them deserved better than this. They were good ships, proud ships, honorable ships.
The actual BC? Hoo boy, Abyssal shit is going down.Then she noticed the ship in the center of the formation, the battlecruiser from her briefing. Its hull was long and wickedly pointed at both ends. Its four twin-turrets lay menacingly against its decks. A towering monolithic superstructure all but identical to Alaska's own loomed over the fore turrets, and it's massive funnel trunking was surrounded by a single inky black band.
But more importantly, the water around burned with a brilliant blue-white light. This wasn't the subtle glow of churned up algae, the water almost boiled in hate.
"That's—"
"A Lexington-class battle cruiser," said her Admiral solemnly.
*puts popcorn in microwave, waits for him to arrive*"What's that glowy stuff?" asked Hamakaze.
Then, in an instant it all clicked for Alaska. All those books she'd been reading in her down time… that black stripe on the stacks… she knew what that glow was. "Cherenkov radiation," she whispered.
Her Admiral nodded. "I'm afraid so."
"What…" even Atago's voice was dark and worried, "what does that mean."
"Radiation," said the Admiral. "That ship's so hot she glows. Combined with that stripe on her stack, and we know the exact ship she's based on."
"Saratoga," breathed Alaska. "We're hunting sister Sara."
only 3 Atlanta's and destroyers did a fine job taking 2 out the last war.That's not much in terms of fighting power. DEs are rather slow and not built for actions like this, the three Kagerous would work nicely if you could get them into a choke point, the Straits of Florida for example. The real force multipler for that fleet is Alaska and Atago. However the Florida Air National Guard probably won't be happy and will probably launch an attack, the thing is their is four Atlanta class Cruisers. Still, I guess the problem here is the fact that their is a distinct lack of cruisers that can bully those Atlantas.
That's not much in terms of fighting power. DEs are rather slow and not built for actions like this, the three Kagerous would work nicely if you could get them into a choke point, the Straits of Florida for example. The real force multipler for that fleet is Alaska and Atago. However the Florida Air National Guard probably won't be happy and will probably launch an attack, the thing is their is four Atlanta class Cruisers. Still, I guess the problem here is the fact that their is a distinct lack of cruisers that can bully those Atlantas.
actually the type 93 torpedo has a farther effective range (22,000 meters) then the 5/38's maximum range (roughly 17,000).
granted Juneau got hit by the mother of all golden bb's (hit by a torpedo that went through a hole made by another)You underestimate the power of the Long Lance, as well as overestimating the durability of the Atlantas. Sure they're tough, but they're not invincible.
See Spectre.
Two of the three light cruisers the USN lost during the war were Atlantas. The third was Helena, and she was focused down by an entire fleet. Juneau and Atlanta? Long-Lanced.
You underestimate the power of the Long Lance, as well as overestimating the durability of the Atlantas. Sure they're tough, but they're not invincible.
See Spectre.
Two of the three light cruisers the USN lost during the war were Atlantas. The third was Helena, and she was focused down by an entire fleet. Juneau? Long-Lanced. Atlanta? Shot to ribbons. Juneau sank in less than thirty seconds after taking a torpedo in a damaged section.
Kirishima's just telling the story of how she fell hopelessly in love with Washington that night in Ironbottom sound.AKA: Be a giant cocktease.
I thought Kongou would have taught you better Kirishima. Your gnome husband would be so ashamed of you.
Hey, "abreast" is a perfectly reasonable naval term.
They're already in the straights of Florida right now. They'll be out in the gulf by the time Alaska's fleet sorties. Also, getting a max-range hit with Long-lances is almost impossible, even during the night. Doing it during the day when the enemy will see you turning over to drop your fish, and be able to dodge them miles in advance will be downright impossible.That's not much in terms of fighting power. DEs are rather slow and not built for actions like this, the three Kagerous would work nicely if you could get them into a choke point, the Straits of Florida for example. The real force multipler for that fleet is Alaska and Atago. However the Florida Air National Guard probably won't be happy and will probably launch an attack, the thing is their is four Atlanta class Cruisers. Still, I guess the problem here is the fact that their is a distinct lack of cruisers that can bully those Atlantas.
They're already in the straights of Florida right now. They'll be out in the gulf by the time Alaska's fleet sorties.
Atlanta's are tougher than they look, both ships took an utter pounding before sinking. USS Atlanta ate one maybe as many as three Type 93s forward, plus she took some friendly fire from Frisco, these ships are actually pretty damn tough.
that type 93 mission killed her when it hit.Atlanta's are tougher than they look, both ships took an utter pounding before sinking. USS Atlanta ate one maybe as many as three Type 93s forward, plus she took some friendly fire from Frisco, these ships are actually pretty damn tough.
If you don't have anything to add, STOP POSTING!!Well fuck! That sucks, alright, anyone got a Plan B? Because I don't.
just to point out I-26 wasn't aiming for Juneau she was aiming for San Fran and missed.I just said that they're tougher than they look.
But here's the thing. Both sank. Atlanta due to uncontrollable flooding and severe damage after Frisco accidentally shot her, and Juneau probably got sliced in half by the torpedo that I-26 aimed at her torpedo wound.
just to point out I-26 wasn't aiming for Juneau she was aiming for San Fran and missed.
speaking of Franny, its probably a good thing these things didn't show up off of Seattle...
sorry its just that I spent a lot of time researching Guadalcanal 1 for my quest. Kind of like being able to use that knowledge for once.*And those torpedoes were actually aimed at Frisco, but regardless, hit Juneau instead and sank her in, again, less than thirty seconds.
I'm just recalling this from memory and editing in parts I'm missing as I double-check her page. Please give me some slack.
I've got one, but it's a really neat shelf decoration so you can't have it.
That's correct. However, it doesn't change the fact that Juneau was also limping home for repairs with a broken keel as well.*And those torpedoes were actually aimed at Frisco, but regardless, hit Juneau instead and sank her in, again, less than thirty seconds.
I'm just recalling this from memory and editing in parts I'm missing as I double-check her page. Please give me some slack.
Nah, just an Iowa. She's got four boilers running when she's idling. If she was really angry and using all eight, her heartbeat would be even more complicated.
Guilty as charged!@theJMPer is the best troll. Using a specific shipfu for maximum author tears.
It's hard to tell from the recon photo.wait are the Atlanta's the actual class or the Oakland sub-class?
I wonder, would this count as cruel and unusual?*Grabs a bunch of Floridian wildlife.*
I'm off to conduct Abyssal-Florida Experimentation. Pardon any screaming you might hear.
Hmmm....I've got one, but it's a really neat shelf decoration so you can't have it.
Only if they survive to complain about it.