Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
That is a hellaciously thick accent. And I've been to the Deep South (and the Bayou).
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
...
Newfie accent?
Newfie accent?
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
...
Definitely Newfie accent then. Anyone saying otherwise has never heard someone from Newfoundland with a thick accent talk.
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
In Texan it would probably be "Praanzz Eugeeeen" Italicized for where emphasis would be placed
See my smile
Life...Life never Changes.
- Location
- The Commonwealth
Yeah and the thicker California accents would probably be something more like Pris Eugene put more emphasis on the Eugene part of her name than on the Prinz part
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
Grew up with both
It would have to be a Yankee accent or even further North
That would do it
khan2012
Very Tired.
- Location
- North Carolina
- Pronouns
- He/Him/They/Them
As someone who lives in the south... That could happen but it's incredibly unlikely.
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
I live in NC. And am from GA
- Location
- North Carolina
So, personally, I want to see Jersey ram something at 30+ plus knots, it'd be Abyssal or otherwise. Mainly because, there is a trope called: Ramming Always Works
I mean, let's face it. When you see 57,000 tons of Fighting Steel bearing down on you at thirty plus knots, that can and probably will lead to a Deer in the Headlights moment, where someone panics and doesn't know what to do, well their is two ways that will end and if your an enemy, that means, their are only two ways that will end and in both of them, you die.
I mean, let's face it. When you see 57,000 tons of Fighting Steel bearing down on you at thirty plus knots, that can and probably will lead to a Deer in the Headlights moment, where someone panics and doesn't know what to do, well their is two ways that will end and if your an enemy, that means, their are only two ways that will end and in both of them, you die.
- Location
- 'Murica
Thor, are you aware of the ranges at which naval combat occurs? When Wash had her little lover's spat with Kirishima, she was at "point-blank-couldn't-miss-if-she-tried" range, and she was still 8400 yards away. That's over four miles. Even at thirty five knots, it would take almost six minutes to close the distance.
- Location
- North Carolina
I am aware, but during WWII the German Heavy Cruiser Admiral Hipper rammed the British G class Destroyer HMS Glowworm in a battle. Dealing some damage to the Heavy Cruiser, including several leaks in the hull which resulted in 500 tonnes of water flooding the ship before the leaks could be isolated. Granted, the Glowworm lost that little challenge 1,913 tons of steel vs. 14,000 tons of steel, well you get the picture. The Destroyer lost it's bow, and had the forward starboard torpedo mount was destroyed, the Glowworm after the ramming the Heavy Cruiser drifted clear, on fire, she sank taking a large number of her crew with her when her boilers exploded.
- Location
- New Braunfels, Tecas
Thor, that was a desperation move, by a ship under fire, and with a partially working emergency rudder. The ram probably was an accident. Besides, Jersey's an Iowa. The bow's a weakness. Just look at what happened to Wiskey when a DD rammed her. They literally had to take Kentucky's bow off to bolt it on to Wiskey. That was an accident, at low speed. A high speed ram? The abyssal will die, but it'll leave Jersey helpless, and then she's dead, which pretty much kills the story. So, let's not ram.
Nicholas
No longer teaching battlethings on a battleship
- Location
- Ashore again
- Pronouns
- He/Him
All of that sounds like very good reasons not to ram. Especially when Jersey has guns to shoot them from much farther away.
Death_Sheep
Cat Owned
- Location
- Wisconsin
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Despite what naval theorists in the Victorian Age may have thought, ramming hasn't really been a viable naval combat tactic since sometime around the Battle of Lepanto.
That said, there *have* been relatively recent cases of ramming as a combat tactic; the "Cod Wars" of the 1960s and 70s between Britain and Denmark (Iceland) over fishing rights were fought, for political reasons, entirely without any shots fired, but a number of ships on both sides were damaged--and a number of sailors on both sides injured--by the use of ramming tactics where one would pull alongside the other, then swing their stern into them. This would never happen in a "hot war" situation unless both ships were already crippled, but it is an option. There have also been a number of cases during the Cold War when Soviet ships attempted to intimidate US ships (and likely the other way around, but I've only seen documentation where it was the Soviet ship that was the aggressor) with extreme close passes that turned into sideswipe collisions when the US skipper refused to turn.
Bow-on ramming, however, hasn't been viable except in extremis since the day steam replaced sail, at the latest, and no ship built since about 1910-15 has had a true ram bow that was structurally reinforced for ramming, with the possible exception of icebreakers. If any modern (i.e., post-WW1) warship were to ram an enemy head-on, they would suffer severe damage because the bow is simply not designed to take that kind of load. Swinging your stern at them doesn't have the same impact, but it does far less damage to your ship, and if timed right, it *can* tear open a good gash along the waterline. Again, though, in the kind of war we're talking about in BelaBatt, you're not gonna get close enough to do that unless the enemy is crippled and you have no ammo left for what weapons are still functional, and thus are using it to finish them off.
Now, if we were gonna do a comedy omake with Jersey deciding that Ramming Always Works! and therefore to try it out in a training exercise, I could certainly see that (complete with Solette and Vestal tag-teaming on cussing her out while they try to repair her) happening...
Bow-on ramming, however, hasn't been viable except in extremis since the day steam replaced sail, at the latest, and no ship built since about 1910-15 has had a true ram bow that was structurally reinforced for ramming, with the possible exception of icebreakers. If any modern (i.e., post-WW1) warship were to ram an enemy head-on, they would suffer severe damage because the bow is simply not designed to take that kind of load. Swinging your stern at them doesn't have the same impact, but it does far less damage to your ship, and if timed right, it *can* tear open a good gash along the waterline. Again, though, in the kind of war we're talking about in BelaBatt, you're not gonna get close enough to do that unless the enemy is crippled and you have no ammo left for what weapons are still functional, and thus are using it to finish them off.
Now, if we were gonna do a comedy omake with Jersey deciding that Ramming Always Works! and therefore to try it out in a training exercise, I could certainly see that (complete with Solette and Vestal tag-teaming on cussing her out while they try to repair her) happening...
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
Maybe not ram, but close enough to beat the holy fuck out of them, definitely.
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Like Nagato in the anime?
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
It actually had a brief period of SORT OF working in the mid-19th century, when ships were durable and there was basically no such thing as reliable armor-piercing ammunition. Exploding shells were so sensitive they wouldn't reliably pierce wooden hulls, let alone iron armor. Meanwhile, gun-aiming was still only a little better than in Nelson's day- effective gun range might have doubled or so, but steam propulsion had correspondingly doubled top speed and enabled ships to move freely in any direction.
So between roughly 1850 and 1880 or so it actually made sense to equip fast warships with ramming bows. Ramming was actually used successfully at Lissa, one of the few major fleet actions of the transitional era after steam but before Tsushima.
[On a Lissa-related side note, the Austro-Hungarians' Kaiser would probably make a good momboat for the Taffies; she'd understand them.]
The real problem was that this occurred during an era of what was almost world peace as far as fleet engagements were concerned. By the time anyone's fleets actually saw battle again on a large scale in the early 1900s, gun ranges had increased by a factor of ten and shells capable of penetrating armor were at least a realistic possibility. Speed had increased, but nowhere near as much as range and penetration power had. Therefore the odds of getting into ramming range were effectively zero.
I will also note that battleship and even cruiser-caliber guns have ridiculous ability to penetrate ship armor at close range. Armor schemes for warships of this era were effective, but only because typical battle ranges were ten thousand yards or more, far enough out that shells slowed down due to air resistance.
If you try to close to ramming distance, you're probably going to be within a mile or two of other enemy ships in the formation for at least a few minutes, and they will hit you. And even 8" shells have at least a fighting chance of going through a battleship's belt armor at those ranges.
Faithful
- Location
- 'Murica
It took Shinano quite a while to slip herself into her brand new swimsuit. Longer than she'd care to admit, actually, but having one arm end in a stump of twisted metal at the elbow complicated matters. The fit wasn't perfect either. The gritty black material was a little too snug over her chest, and Shinano would have liked a tad more room for her hips.
But the coal-black coloring blended her overbuild curves into a sleek, hard-to-define silhouette. It wasn't as good as her bindings, but it at least made her chest less noticeable, and that made Shinano happy.
Also, it was a gift from someone who cared about her. And that made it perfect. The big carrier smiled—actually smiled—as she examined herself in a steamed-over mirror. Whoever gave this to her knew exactly what she'd like. The gray accent panels on the sides… well accented all the parts of her body she liked while the deep black hid the many parts she didn't.
Shinano was so happy she could squeal.
So she did.
She let out a high-pitched girlish squeal and hugged herself for lack of anyone else to hug. She felt so happy, happier than she'd ever felt when White wasn't around.
She took one last glance at herself in the mirror before marching into the bath house. And then she stopped dead in her tracks.
Ryuujou and Jun'you had beaten her to the pool. Probably since they didn't have to fumble with heavy sarashi or squeeze themselves into a swimsuit. But that wasn't what gave her pause.
Both carriers were naked. Shinano could see every inch of their skin.
Nearly all of it was covered in bruises and tears. The water around both girls was stained a shimmering rainbow pink as blood, oil, and aviation fuel leeched though hastily-patched wounds. Ryuujou's chest quivered with halting breaths, and Jun'you's normally spiky hair had lost all its bounce.
Shinano felt her jaw hang slack as she stared at them. She'd thought her arm was bad, but… But other than her arm, she didn't have much to complain about. A few nicks and scrapes barely worth mentioning.
"W-wha," the giant carrier stammered as she shuffled into the water. To see her friends—her two closest friends out of the vanishingly small number she had—in such a state broke her heart.
"Hey." Ryuujou glanced over with painful exertion. Her blackened eyes were nearly swollen shut, it was all she could do to squint though bruised, bloodied flesh. Her voice rasped like a parched whisper, and even that single word seemed to take herculean effort.
"What happened to you?" Shinano settled onto her haunches in the warm, soothing water. Oil and blood lapped at her breast as she stood watch over her aching friend.
Ryuujou closed her eyes and hissed a breath though split, bloody lips. "Unarmored," she breathed.
"R-right," Shinano nodded. She thought taking a hit to her deck was painful, but… that was nothing. Scratch damage compared to what her friends endured. They'd felt bombs explode inside them. They'd felt their machinery spaces get torn apart by shrapnel and splinters. Judging by the charring on Jun'you's belly, she'd felt her hanger roast from the inside while her crews battled secondary fires.
Shinano couldn't imagine suffering like that. Just thinking about it made her want to crawl into her nice, safe corner in the shower and cry until she couldn't cry anymore.
But she was a support carrier. She might not be much use in a fight, but she was born to support her friends. She could—would—help however she could.
"Here," Shinano bit the corner of her mouth and fished around in her stores. It took her a while to find what she wanted. Most of her DC crews were busy repairing her own damage, and those that weren't were too tired of green to know where anything went anymore. But at long last she found what she was looking for.
Two fresh bowls of steaming hot noodle soup, and frosty bottles of Ramune. "It's not Mamiya's," Shinano blushed as she gently placed the bowls in the glass-smooth water and let them float like little boats. "It's…" the giant support carrier blushed. She'd done the best she could, but she just didn't have the kind of spices she'd want for good food. "It's the best I could do."
Ryuujou just smiled, and slooooowly shifted her arm to reach for the floating bowl.
Shinano gently pushed her arm back down. "No," she said in the calmest, gentlest voice she could manage. "Rest up."
The big carrier cradled the bowl against her breast with her ragged stump and fumbled a spoon between her fingers. She gathered a few noodles and a healthy helping of warm broth and carried it to Ryuujou's torn lips. "Open wide."
A battered smile passed over the light carrier's face as she obligingly took a slow sip of the soup. "T-thank you," she whispered.
Shinano blushed a brilliant crimson and hastily spun to face Jun'you. She repeated the process for almost an hour. She'd offer a small helping of soup to one girl, blush or whimper when she was thanked, and switch to the other for a bit.
But, finally, she ran out of soup. She didn't mind though, she could tell her friends were getting sleepy. The frantic palpitations of Ryuujou's chest had slowed into a steady rhythm, and Jun'you's eyes had slipped resolutely shut.
"G-good night," muttered Shinano as she slipped back to her own berth. The water felt amazing against her bare skin, and even against her slick swimsuit. The warm, wet air was heavy with the smells of healing oils and fresh noodle soup. Shinano felt sleep start to creep on her like a mist, but there was still one thing she had to do.
She was a support carrier. She existed to support the real carriers. And she'd do that with the last fiber of her being.
Now if she could just remember that lullaby White used to sing her to sleep with…
"How'd it go," Shinano sunk down in the pool until her chin ticked the surface and even her expansive breasts barely crested above the glassy smooth water. She screwed up her face in thought, and then it came to her.
"Rev'n up your engine," sang Shinano in the same gentle, soothing tone White would use when she couldn't sleep. "Listen to her howlin' roar."
A tiny chuckle slipped past Jun'you's lips, and the carrier sunk deeper into her berth.
"Metal under tension," Shinano closed her eyes and thought of White. Whenever she was scared, whenever she couldn't sleep and needed a glass of water to get settled, White was there. Whenever she got scared and couldn't find her plushie, White volunteered herself for cuddling purposes. White was the perfect support carrier. She was everything Shinano wanted to be. She just hoped she could do her momboat justice. "Begging you to touch an' go."
Shinano kept singing until the end of the song, but she was pretty sure both carriers fell asleep halfway though. She didn't mind, they'd worked hard. They'd worked so hard for so long… Shinano was just honored she got the opportunity to sing them to bed.
"That was very beautiful," said a voice Shinano recognized instantly, even though she'd only heard it in stories and legends. Her pulse instantly skyrocketed, and she had to scramble to avoid a catastrophic steam explosion.
"K-Kaga-dono!" Shinano whipped around in the pool and tried to bow, curtsy, and hide all at the same time. All she actually accomplished was cracking a dent in the poolside tile with her forehead. "Owwwwww."
Kaga's face was a mask of inscrutable stoic calm. She sat on her knees by the side of the pool, her hair tied back in its usual side-tail without a single strand out of place. Her lacquered breastplate bulged over her chest with curves that Shinano's armor struggled to repress, and an ebony-handled katana rested on her lap. "Shinano?"
"Y-yes," Shinano clenched at her forehead and stared at her own reflection. She wanted to bow deeper, but the water just wouldn't let her.
"Look into my eyes." Kaga's voice didn't waver from it's calm, controlled timbre, but there was the bite of a barked order wound tight into her tone.
Shinano whimpered, and forced herself to meet the fleet carrier's piercing gaze. Kaga's stern features stood in sharp relief in the dim dock lighting, as cold and unyielding as granite. Her deep brown eyes bored though Shinano's with unblinking intensity. "Y-yes, Kaga-dono," mumbled Shinano.
"They found the carrier who launched the strike," said Kaga with biting hatred tinting her clipped syllables. "It's helpless without its planes. Mogami and Choukai have engaged it in surface action." Kaga hissed out a breath though gleaming teeth and pulled the fabric of her hakama smooth. "I do not expect it to last until nightfall. I thought you would like to know."
Shinano nodded. "I… I would." She blushed and glanced down at the poolside again. "T-thank you, Kaga."
"Shinano," Kaga's voice was as harsh and curt as ever. But Shinano thought she heard—just for an instant, mind you—a warm shade to the cool, clipped tones.
"Yes?" murmured the giant converted carrier.
"Are you familiar with the battle of Midway?" asked Kaga.
Shinano hung her shoulders. "A- a little."
Kaga leaned forwards with the oiled precision of a battleship's main battery. Her hands stayed planted on her hips as her face came nose-to-nose with Shinano. "Are you familiar with how I died?"
Shinano bit her lip and shrank away from the fleet carrier's piercing gaze. "N-not really."
"A thousand pound bomb," explained Kaga with cool indifference, "punched though my flight deck and exploded in my upper hanger." The carrier grabbed Shinano's hand and planted it on the lacquered wood of her breastplate.
Shinano tried to squirm away, but Kaga as unyielding as a mountain. "The blast ruptured my avgas lines," she said, "and started secondary fires, destroyed my fire-suppression gear, and detonated eighty-thousand pounds of ordnance that blew out my sides."
Shinano shivered and felt her heart rate push the redline even further.
"You took a blow that shattered me." Kaga stood to her feet in one smooth motion. Her knees locked with mechanical grace and she pulled her uniform smooth. "And spotted a strike regardless." The old carrier stared though Shinano's glasses into her glassy purple eyes. "Never forget that."
But the coal-black coloring blended her overbuild curves into a sleek, hard-to-define silhouette. It wasn't as good as her bindings, but it at least made her chest less noticeable, and that made Shinano happy.
Also, it was a gift from someone who cared about her. And that made it perfect. The big carrier smiled—actually smiled—as she examined herself in a steamed-over mirror. Whoever gave this to her knew exactly what she'd like. The gray accent panels on the sides… well accented all the parts of her body she liked while the deep black hid the many parts she didn't.
Shinano was so happy she could squeal.
So she did.
She let out a high-pitched girlish squeal and hugged herself for lack of anyone else to hug. She felt so happy, happier than she'd ever felt when White wasn't around.
She took one last glance at herself in the mirror before marching into the bath house. And then she stopped dead in her tracks.
Ryuujou and Jun'you had beaten her to the pool. Probably since they didn't have to fumble with heavy sarashi or squeeze themselves into a swimsuit. But that wasn't what gave her pause.
Both carriers were naked. Shinano could see every inch of their skin.
Nearly all of it was covered in bruises and tears. The water around both girls was stained a shimmering rainbow pink as blood, oil, and aviation fuel leeched though hastily-patched wounds. Ryuujou's chest quivered with halting breaths, and Jun'you's normally spiky hair had lost all its bounce.
Shinano felt her jaw hang slack as she stared at them. She'd thought her arm was bad, but… But other than her arm, she didn't have much to complain about. A few nicks and scrapes barely worth mentioning.
"W-wha," the giant carrier stammered as she shuffled into the water. To see her friends—her two closest friends out of the vanishingly small number she had—in such a state broke her heart.
"Hey." Ryuujou glanced over with painful exertion. Her blackened eyes were nearly swollen shut, it was all she could do to squint though bruised, bloodied flesh. Her voice rasped like a parched whisper, and even that single word seemed to take herculean effort.
"What happened to you?" Shinano settled onto her haunches in the warm, soothing water. Oil and blood lapped at her breast as she stood watch over her aching friend.
Ryuujou closed her eyes and hissed a breath though split, bloody lips. "Unarmored," she breathed.
"R-right," Shinano nodded. She thought taking a hit to her deck was painful, but… that was nothing. Scratch damage compared to what her friends endured. They'd felt bombs explode inside them. They'd felt their machinery spaces get torn apart by shrapnel and splinters. Judging by the charring on Jun'you's belly, she'd felt her hanger roast from the inside while her crews battled secondary fires.
Shinano couldn't imagine suffering like that. Just thinking about it made her want to crawl into her nice, safe corner in the shower and cry until she couldn't cry anymore.
But she was a support carrier. She might not be much use in a fight, but she was born to support her friends. She could—would—help however she could.
"Here," Shinano bit the corner of her mouth and fished around in her stores. It took her a while to find what she wanted. Most of her DC crews were busy repairing her own damage, and those that weren't were too tired of green to know where anything went anymore. But at long last she found what she was looking for.
Two fresh bowls of steaming hot noodle soup, and frosty bottles of Ramune. "It's not Mamiya's," Shinano blushed as she gently placed the bowls in the glass-smooth water and let them float like little boats. "It's…" the giant support carrier blushed. She'd done the best she could, but she just didn't have the kind of spices she'd want for good food. "It's the best I could do."
Ryuujou just smiled, and slooooowly shifted her arm to reach for the floating bowl.
Shinano gently pushed her arm back down. "No," she said in the calmest, gentlest voice she could manage. "Rest up."
The big carrier cradled the bowl against her breast with her ragged stump and fumbled a spoon between her fingers. She gathered a few noodles and a healthy helping of warm broth and carried it to Ryuujou's torn lips. "Open wide."
A battered smile passed over the light carrier's face as she obligingly took a slow sip of the soup. "T-thank you," she whispered.
Shinano blushed a brilliant crimson and hastily spun to face Jun'you. She repeated the process for almost an hour. She'd offer a small helping of soup to one girl, blush or whimper when she was thanked, and switch to the other for a bit.
But, finally, she ran out of soup. She didn't mind though, she could tell her friends were getting sleepy. The frantic palpitations of Ryuujou's chest had slowed into a steady rhythm, and Jun'you's eyes had slipped resolutely shut.
"G-good night," muttered Shinano as she slipped back to her own berth. The water felt amazing against her bare skin, and even against her slick swimsuit. The warm, wet air was heavy with the smells of healing oils and fresh noodle soup. Shinano felt sleep start to creep on her like a mist, but there was still one thing she had to do.
She was a support carrier. She existed to support the real carriers. And she'd do that with the last fiber of her being.
Now if she could just remember that lullaby White used to sing her to sleep with…
"How'd it go," Shinano sunk down in the pool until her chin ticked the surface and even her expansive breasts barely crested above the glassy smooth water. She screwed up her face in thought, and then it came to her.
"Rev'n up your engine," sang Shinano in the same gentle, soothing tone White would use when she couldn't sleep. "Listen to her howlin' roar."
A tiny chuckle slipped past Jun'you's lips, and the carrier sunk deeper into her berth.
"Metal under tension," Shinano closed her eyes and thought of White. Whenever she was scared, whenever she couldn't sleep and needed a glass of water to get settled, White was there. Whenever she got scared and couldn't find her plushie, White volunteered herself for cuddling purposes. White was the perfect support carrier. She was everything Shinano wanted to be. She just hoped she could do her momboat justice. "Begging you to touch an' go."
Shinano kept singing until the end of the song, but she was pretty sure both carriers fell asleep halfway though. She didn't mind, they'd worked hard. They'd worked so hard for so long… Shinano was just honored she got the opportunity to sing them to bed.
"That was very beautiful," said a voice Shinano recognized instantly, even though she'd only heard it in stories and legends. Her pulse instantly skyrocketed, and she had to scramble to avoid a catastrophic steam explosion.
"K-Kaga-dono!" Shinano whipped around in the pool and tried to bow, curtsy, and hide all at the same time. All she actually accomplished was cracking a dent in the poolside tile with her forehead. "Owwwwww."
Kaga's face was a mask of inscrutable stoic calm. She sat on her knees by the side of the pool, her hair tied back in its usual side-tail without a single strand out of place. Her lacquered breastplate bulged over her chest with curves that Shinano's armor struggled to repress, and an ebony-handled katana rested on her lap. "Shinano?"
"Y-yes," Shinano clenched at her forehead and stared at her own reflection. She wanted to bow deeper, but the water just wouldn't let her.
"Look into my eyes." Kaga's voice didn't waver from it's calm, controlled timbre, but there was the bite of a barked order wound tight into her tone.
Shinano whimpered, and forced herself to meet the fleet carrier's piercing gaze. Kaga's stern features stood in sharp relief in the dim dock lighting, as cold and unyielding as granite. Her deep brown eyes bored though Shinano's with unblinking intensity. "Y-yes, Kaga-dono," mumbled Shinano.
"They found the carrier who launched the strike," said Kaga with biting hatred tinting her clipped syllables. "It's helpless without its planes. Mogami and Choukai have engaged it in surface action." Kaga hissed out a breath though gleaming teeth and pulled the fabric of her hakama smooth. "I do not expect it to last until nightfall. I thought you would like to know."
Shinano nodded. "I… I would." She blushed and glanced down at the poolside again. "T-thank you, Kaga."
"Shinano," Kaga's voice was as harsh and curt as ever. But Shinano thought she heard—just for an instant, mind you—a warm shade to the cool, clipped tones.
"Yes?" murmured the giant converted carrier.
"Are you familiar with the battle of Midway?" asked Kaga.
Shinano hung her shoulders. "A- a little."
Kaga leaned forwards with the oiled precision of a battleship's main battery. Her hands stayed planted on her hips as her face came nose-to-nose with Shinano. "Are you familiar with how I died?"
Shinano bit her lip and shrank away from the fleet carrier's piercing gaze. "N-not really."
"A thousand pound bomb," explained Kaga with cool indifference, "punched though my flight deck and exploded in my upper hanger." The carrier grabbed Shinano's hand and planted it on the lacquered wood of her breastplate.
Shinano tried to squirm away, but Kaga as unyielding as a mountain. "The blast ruptured my avgas lines," she said, "and started secondary fires, destroyed my fire-suppression gear, and detonated eighty-thousand pounds of ordnance that blew out my sides."
Shinano shivered and felt her heart rate push the redline even further.
"You took a blow that shattered me." Kaga stood to her feet in one smooth motion. Her knees locked with mechanical grace and she pulled her uniform smooth. "And spotted a strike regardless." The old carrier stared though Shinano's glasses into her glassy purple eyes. "Never forget that."
- Location
- Arizona
A couple minor typos and missing words (for example 'Kaga as unyielding as a mountain' should probably be 'Kaga was as unyielding as a mountain.', but other than that...
*squees*
*bounces around*
YAY UPDATE! Made my day, and OMG Shinano is so cute, and isn't it sweet that she had nice cold Ramune and nice hot soup when she needed it here when she couldn't manage that before? She's learning! And the idea of Danger Zone as a *lullaby*... so totally appropriate TOTALLY APPROPRIATE. And Kaga *hugs the stoic carrier* That was so nice of her, but Shinano is going to be blushing for *days*
*squees*
*bounces around*
YAY UPDATE! Made my day, and OMG Shinano is so cute, and isn't it sweet that she had nice cold Ramune and nice hot soup when she needed it here when she couldn't manage that before? She's learning! And the idea of Danger Zone as a *lullaby*... so totally appropriate TOTALLY APPROPRIATE. And Kaga *hugs the stoic carrier* That was so nice of her, but Shinano is going to be blushing for *days*
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
I really, really hope this gives Shinano a lift. Something's got to.
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I'm pretty glad danger zone was my first thought, even though it's ben quite a while since I've heard it.