Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
No, because she would be coming back first with her WWII state.
Stahor
BookWorm
- Location
- Russia, Moscow
Given that NJ's appearance during WW2 was to draw attention, she probably was on some level jealous of little sister
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
... Calling it now, she comes back wearing a SBY female uniform, or gets one soon after.
pjmoyer
Terrapin Corps
- Location
- Maryland
Yep. And given that Our Heroes are starting to clue on how it works, who's to say that Jersey (or somebody else) doesn't throw themselves into the fray against the deadliest, heaviest Abyssal opponents to bring her sister back? :/
I don't take sucker bets
- Location
- Canada
How will Iowa and Mo react, i wonder.
- Location
- United States
Right, because that makes it better.
You misread that part. Six detonated under her keel, but overall she was hit by 12-19 torps total.
Whiskey Golf
Being of Editing & Technical Assistance
- Location
- Chained to my desk
Yup. Coming back as an Abyssal. What better way to induce drama and sads in Jersey?
"Wisky?" Asked Jersey, half disbelieving. Her limp hands fell to her sides. "Wisky?"
The Abyssal woman looked at her, a contemptuous look on her face. "Who the hell is Wisky?"
Spectre
eternal servant to the Fire/EMS gods
- Location
- NY
um if she was damaged by 12-19 torps and 6 detonated under her, that means anywhere between 6 and 13 hit her hull directly. Oklahoma took 7 and sank in a quarter of the time wisky stayed afloat for.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
J's hugs shall blot out the sun, and the ice cream must flow.
And complete collections of various anime starting with Space Battleship Yamato. Can't forget that.
- Location
- Malaysia
Your pathological need to make people cry to farm tears is getting disturbing man.
That aside great job @theJMPer!
Omake: A certain lady goes on a date
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
|ω･)ﾉ
* * * * *
Arizona hesitated as she stood at the door before her.
Was she really going to go through with this?
Could she even afford to do so? With such a dramatic day having already unfolded before even lunch?
Particularly given who that drama had centered around?
Pennsy had shown herself to be... less than amicable when it came to the idea of working alongside her new Japanese allies. And after an altercation involving little Shigure of all people, her elder sister had been locked away. Locked away with Mutsu, Jintsuu, and Takao for a history lesson and a talk about the evolution of disciplinary action throughout the years.
Having an American shipgirl present would have been ideal, but she was the only one readily available. And her presence was not exactly the best choice right now. Not for disciplinary action at the very least.
She really wanted to be there for her sister. Both as a fellow warship, but also because she simply wanted to spend more time with her as family.
But even she would admit that taking a swing at Shigure was uncalled for.
She wasn't completely certain of the chain of events that had enabled Pennsylvania to corner the destroyer and start grilling her about Yamashiro, but it had happened regardless. And when Shigure had refused to provide, her sister's temper had flared and a fist had been loosed. The punch hadn't even come close to landing thanks to Hiei, but it had still been thrown.
It was rather impressive that Hiei had managed to intervene as she had in her condition.
Regardless...
Arizona sighed as she recalled Mutsu's parting words before she'd shooed her out of the room where Pennsy was being held.
"Yes Ari, everything has been delayed and no you may not come in. Why don't you take a break? Have some fun. Read a book. Go for a walk. Go on a date. I'll make it an order~"
And Mutsu had indeed pulled rank and made it an order.
It certainly didn't sit well with her, but she wasn't about to disobey a superior officer over something so trivial. Even if that meant her own definition of... fun was off the table. Target practice was fun. So were sea trials, exercise, and books on tactics and strategy. But Mutsu had said it was her own ideas of fun that were to be used. Or Hiei's. Arizona-Class fun was banned for the evening.
Which had brought her to where she was now.
Awkwardly hesitating before a simple wooden door.
"I am a battleship of the United States Navy. I am dedicated, steadfast, and sworn to my duty and country. I..." Without thinking, she knocked on the door. And now she was committed. There would be no evasive maneuvers here. Why did this body have to move on its own at times?
"Hang on!"
Arizona didn't have to wait longer than a few seconds before the door swung open and revealed the fastest destroyer in Japan.
"Ou! What's… Oh." Shimakaze trailed off as she processed who was at her door. A frown crossed her features. "It's the prude lagwagon."
"I-pardon?" Arizona hadn't exactly been expecting smiles and hugs and cheer, but the rather frosty welcome was quite unexpected.
"How'd you do it?" demanded Shimakaze indignantly.
"Do what, exactly?"
"Go so fast! Your sis shows up and you're off like a rocket! Standards don't move that fast. Ever. It's not supposed to be possible!" Shimakaze ranted and raved, both attempting to divine Arizona's secrets and soothe her battered pride. Her bunny-ear ribbon bounced all around as she made ever more animated claims.
"Shimakaze," Arizona finally interjected with a hard tone. This was difficult enough. Standing in the hall of the destroyer dorms only made it more awkward.
The destroyer stopped in her tracks and looked up at the battleship questioningly.
"I don't know." She raised her hand to stave off another outburst. "But rest assured that you will be the first to know if I do find out."
"...Fine. I'll hold you to that." Shimakaze crossed her arms with a huff before dropping the irritated stance and donning a more friendly tone. "So what's up? You came here for a reason, right?"
Arizona looked down the halls before leaning in to whisper her admission.
"I require your assistance with… clothing."
Shimakaze simply stared at Arizona as if the woman had grown a second head.
"May I come inside to explain?" She could feel her face heating in embarrassment, but tried to remain as composed as possible.
"...sure." Shimakaze stepped aside and beckoned Arizona into her room. Her mind was bogging down with all sorts of bizarre explanations and theories. Each more ludicrous than the last. She considered herself to be pretty sharp, but even she couldn't figure out what was going on.
Stupid American standard battleships. Why can't they make sense?
Arizona looked around Shimakaze's room as its owner set about shutting the door and rummaging through a small refrigerator for something to drink.
She would admit she was definitely surprised.
It was incredibly well kept for one. Cleanliness was to be expected, but this was fair above that. Magazines and books neatly organized in the bookshelf and not even a stray sock to be seen. Even the foam mat dominating the floor seemed to be placed just right.
"Want anything?"
"Ah, no. Thank you."
Shimakaze shrugged and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. She popped it open and took a healthy drink of it before pointing it at Arizona.
"So spill, Lieutenant. Why do you need clothing help from the stripperboat?" She almost grinned when Arizona paled. "We have lewdmarines and the Internet."
"Wh-" Arizona clamped down on that train of thought. For that way lies prude filled rage. And she did not need to drive off a potential source of help. Plus, Shimakaze was actually wearing something decent at the moment. A workout attire if she guessed right.
"Hm?"
"Right. Sorry. I apologize." She drew herself up and locked eyes with the destroyer. "I have been ordered to take time off by the Lieutenant Commander and as such I intend to go out this evening. But it would not do to be seen in uniform for such a task. But my wardrobe is… lacking and my fashion sense is not exactly up with the times."
"And you came to me?"
"You are the only one available who might have some sense of modern tastes. And I do not have good reference to place trust in my own observations." Even so, Shimakaze was very, very far down on her list of individuals to seek advice from.
Her elder sister was right out, as were those dealing with her.
Yamashiro and Shigure probably did not want to see her at the moment.
And Hiei was both missing and probably best avoided for this particular query.
Shimakaze held Arizona under a flat gaze. Her usual semi-sleepy expression one of judgment.
"...Please."
"Ou! Alright. But you follow my ideas to the letter!" She'd help the outdated American. And maybe get some petty revenge in the process. Nothing too bad. Just a little poking at the prude's sensibilities. "Or I'm not helping."
Arizona hesitated for the briefest of moments.
"Very well. I am in your care."
Shimakaze grinned and Arizona began to sweat.
"Good. Now if you're going out tonight, we need to move fast. Super fast." Shimakaze nodded sharply. Arizona was shorter and curvier than every other battleship she'd ever seen, so that meant no borrowing from any of the other shipgirls. But maybe…
Arizona began to regret her decision as Shimakaze started pacing and rattling off her thoughts far faster than should be possible.
Words like 'low cut' and 'lacy' only served to fill her with further dread.
* * * * *
Admiral Richardson trudged along the concrete pavers leading to his front door with all the energy of a lethargic zombie.
The day could not have been more mad if it had tried.
Between... effectively anything involving Pennsylvania and that nice little report filled with absurd levels of mixed news sitting on his desk, he was absolutely spent. Add in the day-to-day shenanigans and it was a small miracle he was even standing.
"What do you mean you didn't ask? That's the first thing you do!"
His hand froze before it reached the doorknob. Why was Shimakaze in his house? And why was she raising a ruckus?
"I admit that had... slipped my mind."
Now he was even more confused.
"Pfft! Ari, there are limits to being oblivious!"
And there was Hiei yucking it up with them.
"Ou!"
Right, enough of that.
"I'm home," announced Richardson tiredly as he opened the door and stepped into his home, deciding that dealing with the madness sooner than later would let him get to bed sooner. "And can someo-"
And then he was struck dumb.
If someone had told him when Battleship Arizona had appeared that he would one day see the sight before him, he'd have told them they were insane. Sure, shipgirls were beautiful on a level that defied common convention. But Arizona was a ship overflowing with a dedication to duty, to serve and to protect. Her life was her mission. An absolute and unending drive to prove her worth and atone for a failure she could have never overcome.
Arizona's idea of proper attire involved military uniforms and things that were usually filed under Sunday Best. At least, that's what he had thought after seeing and hearing what had become known as her Prude Rage. Tiny skirts and missing underwear were just two of the many things that he'd seen drive her up the wall. But right now he was seeing none of that.
"Well, someone's at a loss for words."
Were Richardson not currently trying to comprehend reality at the moment, he might have told Hiei to kindly stuff it.
He blinked and the sight did not vanish.
There was Arizona, dressed to the nines in a white dress that was exactly the sort of thing she would have taken anyone else to the breakers over. While it was almost completely all encasing with it's high neck, long sleeves, and reaching to just above her ankles, there were more than enough sheer cutouts to the form fitting garment to make him question just how much it actually concealed. Her coppery red hair was left to fall about of it's own accord save for her bangs which were held in place by a pair of silvery pins. A light bit of makeup he idly recognized as Hiei's handiwork completed the look.
"Uh..."
"Words. Use your words, Admiral," laughed Hiei. "I know she's gorgeous, but you need to use things called words to tell her."
"Lieutenant!" barked Arizona, her face turning an even darker shade of red.
"What? It's true. Just be glad Mutsu's not here." Hiei grinned as she placed her hand onto her jeans covered hip. "She's the one with the teeny tiny skirt that you don't like."
"That's not a skirt! It's a-"
Hiei held up her hand to stave off the rant and Arizona immediately went silent. Only a frown remained.
"Alright. Alright. Don't get so worked up. It'll mess up your dress. You can do that after your date."
"Ou! Don't mess that dress up!" She didn't know who this 'A' person was in supply, but they had apparently delivered a dress sized just right maybe half an hour before she'd walked in the door. And since she had no idea who this person was, much less how to contact them, she did not want to risk Arizona accidentally tearing something in her ire. But that dress was really well made...
Richardson finally shut the door as his ability to function slowly returned from the daze he had been in. The headache probably had something to do with it. And the sheer absurdity of the situation. Had he fallen and hit his head? The walkway was a bit slippery...
"Right. Back up." The Admiral waited for all three ships to turn and face him. "What's going on?"
"Riiiight... About that." Hiei walked over to Richardson and stood next to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "Ari here, was told, my Mutsu no less, that she was going to take the rest of the day off since today was... today. And that she wasn't allowed to do anything that we wouldn't find fun."
Richardson merely turned his head to look at Hiei with a flat expression.
"So! She decided she was going out on a date!"
"What?"
"A date. You know, that thing people go on for fun or for vaguely romantic intentions? The thing Kongou-oneesama has been hoping Admiral Goto will take her out on one day?" Speaking of which, she really ought to send Goto a message about that. "That kind of date? You're not old enough to forget that, are you? Please tell me you're not going senile on me."
"He is old. Super old." Shimakaze's quip earned her a glare from the Admiral and promptly ignored it in favor of spinning in place.
"Very funny." Richardson slouched despite Hiei's grip and heaved a mighty sigh. Why today of all days. Couldn't he have this madness spread out of at least two or three? Eventually he looked up at the decidedly irritated and uncomfortable looking Arizona. "Well, have fun and don't do anything stupid."
"About that."
Richardson did not like the way Hiei voiced that.
"Ou! Lagwagon didn't actually ask them out."
"You, what?"
"Sir, this is mortifying enough." Arizona seemed to turn an even deeper shade of red as she visibly struggled to maintain eye contact with him. "Please do not make it worse than these two already have."
"So... who?" He thumbed over to Hiei and was smacked upside the head by said battleship before he could say anything to get himself in hot water. A thought struck his addled mind equally hard not a moment later. Made worse when Jane rounded the corner holding what he recognized as some of his best formal wear. Oh no. Please no.
Arizona folded her hands in front of her and locked eyes with him, wearing the most determined expression he had ever seen.
"Admiral John Richardson, I would like to request your presence as my escort this evening for dinner."
* * * * *
There was little hustle or bustle in the restaurant. The hour was late and many of the patrons were making idle chatter at the bar or enjoying soft conversation over low burning candles.
Off in a secluded corner sat two individuals awaiting their meal.
One an older looking man in a sharp looking suit.
The other a red haired woman of considerable beauty.
"I apologize, Admiral. I should have put more thought into this." Arizona tried to fight away the blush on her cheeks, but had abut as much success as she'd had ever since she'd first seen the dress Shimakaze had obtained for her. That is to say, none whatsoever. And the many eyes drawn to both her and Richardson did not help in the slightest. Why were these things so popular? And why, oh why couldn't she have worn her overcoat?
It wasn't the scars she was worried about. That had never really been an issue.
No it was the fact she felt as naked as if she were in dry dock. With how this dress hugged every curve possible, it left little to nothing to the imagination. How she'd not flown into a rage was due only to the promise she'd made Shimakaze and Hiei. Even that was straining. And if Jane had asked... She'd have no hope at all.
"Probably." Richardson did his best to appear as not exhausted as possible. He might have been forced into this, but that didn't mean he was going to be an ass about it. "But hey, we've both had... involved days. Might as well enjoy ourselves since we're here."
He really did not want to think about the Miracle of the Gulf right now. And breaking the news to the rest of the fleet was not going to be easy. They might not have the same attachments to the lost, but a loss was a loss. It was... bittersweet.
"Yes, sir." Arizona folded her hands in her lap. She squirmed in her seat, not liking the silence that had fallen but also unsure how to break it. There was indeed a reason behind her actions. A reason that had been gnawing at her for the past few days and only exacerbated after today's events. But now that she finally moved to take the opportunity, she found herself paralyzed.
The contents of her purse seemed to radiate a tremendous gravity.
"Jintsuu got her autograph." Richardson was the one to break the silence after a sip of his wine.
"Pardon?"
"Nobuo Uematsu. He was at Pennsylvania's summoning. Jintsuu's been dying to get his autograph ever since she found out he had volunteered to help." He wasn't really familiar with the man's works, but he knew enough thanks to his yeoman's gushing. Jintsuu really liked her composers and musicians. And it was a personal goal of hers to get as many autographs as she could. "She's going to call up her sisters and brag the next chance she gets."
"That doesn't sound like the Yeoman." Arizona frowned as she tried to imagine it. Jintsuu was a little scary at times, but a kind and dedicated woman. Bragging just didn't sound right. She shifted her feet as she tried to imagine such a scene. "I will admit I haven't know her as long as you have, but it does not seem right."
"Let me tell you something about traffic cones." Richardson rapped his fingers against the tablecloth before raising one.
Arizona tilted her head.
Traffic cones?
"They rarely are what they seem. Naka's the flashy, frilly fleet idol, but one of the biggest computer geeks you'll ever meet. She's all but married to a machine that outperforms most supercomputers." At Arizona's disbelieving expression, he realized he'd probably need to show her one of the streams that some of his subordinates invariably sent in a Reply All email. He raised a second finger and continued, "Jintsuu's kind, dedicated, and one of the most reliable girls you'll ever meet."
"But she ...fangirls over musicians and movies?" She knew a little bit about the cinema obsession, but had yet to be exposed to the true depths of it.
"She has a Darth Vader body pillow."
"She, what?" Arizona leaned forward with an accusing glare as her image of Jintsuu was further distorted by her Admiral. "If you are making this up, sir, I will be very displeased."
"I had a hard time believing it even when I found the thing in the wash." Richardson lowered his hand. "...And she's probably going to give me a mouthful when she finds out I just spilled that."
"We all live together. I'm sure I would have found it eventually." She sighed and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. Her image of Jintsuu was slowly being cracked and broken, but somehow she felt resigned that she should have expected as much. The Sasebo fleet, while dedicated and effective to the nth degree, was more bonkers than any military unit should be by leagues.
Richardson shrugged as the atmosphere began to lose the awkwardness and slowly started to warm up into something more friendly. Or less rigid at the very least.
"What of Sendai?"
"Sendai?"
"Yes. You didn't mention the nameship." Arizona cast her eyes across the flickering flame between herself and Richardson as she spoke, not really aware of the fact she wasn't much of a blushing mess anymore.
"Oh, right. Well... I've never met Sendai. But most reports involving her involve a lot of yelling. She's a lunatic for night battles apparently." Richardson snorted. "Probably holes up in her room and listens to Beethoven with a snifter full of brandy and a smoking jacket."
"Does she wear a monocle?"
Arizona smiled with ill concealed amusement when Richardson nearly choked on his drink.
"Dammit, Ari! I-" He stopped to clear his airways. "You did that on purpose. Fuck."
"Perhaps." Arizona returned to her usual stern expression as she sipped at her own drink, a dark red wine to match Richardson's. Okay, she would admit she was having a little fun.
"Christ, Mutsu and Hiei are a bad influence."
"Or perhaps you don't know me as well as you claim?"
Richardson just glared at the attractive redhead until she looked away with a dusting of red on her cheeks.
"...I have been spending more time with them, yes." With Hiei almost having almost completely taken over the home and Mutsu back in full swing as XO, there was little time where she was not in proximity to at least one of the two. Mutsu rarely passed up a chance to tease and Hiei's sense of humor was bizarrely infectious.
Before either could speak further, their dinner arrived. Along with the remainder of the wine they had ordered.
Both offered each other a shrug and tucked into their meals.
"That going to be enough for you?" queried Richardson as Arizona began to raise a slice of sausage, nearly dripping with steaming red sauce, to her lips.
"It will... suffice as a snack. I am nearly fully stocked, so there's no need to gorge myself." Heavens knew how much she put away when really hungry. A nice, fancy dinner was not meant to serve as replenishment anyways. It was a luxury if anything. Like catching a particularly tasty fish while underway and having the spare supplies to make something special of it.
"You have no idea how much my bank account thanks you for that." Richardson smirked before taking a bite of the meat ravioli he'd ordered. He had a soft spot for Italian food. Always had.
"Pardon, sir, but you are an ass."
"Guilty."
"How does the Lieutenant Commander put up with you?" Arizona swirled her pasta through the sauce before twirling it up on her fork. It was rather impressive she hadn't spilled a drop on her dress thus far. But not eating like a starved lunatic had it's benefits.
"Because I found the line with her and I don't cross it." He speared another piece of ravioli. "I'm not sure where the line is with you yet, so give me time."
"That's hardly a gentlemanly outlook to take. And not a good example for Jane, sir." Arizona realized she had been the one to cross a line when the Admiral froze before slowly, mechanically taking a bite of his food.
Richardson set down his utensils and leveled a flat stare at Arizona.
"I'm not a gentleman, Arizona. And I'm barely an Admiral." Maintained eye contact even as he reached over to take a swig of his wine, letting the bitter taste roll over his tongue. "And right now, I'm just John Richardson. A jackass trying to raise his daughter the best he can."
"Then-!" Arizona found herself silenced when Richardson simply glared at her.
"Let's finish eating and then we can talk."
The pleasant mood vanished like smoke in the wind as both set to finishing their meals with a machined precision. While it was definitely a delicious dinner, the taste was not nearly up to the standard it had been at the beginning.
When their plates had been cleared and their glasses refilled, they remained silent.
Only the soft glow of the candle's light made any sound as it gave the occasional pop and sputter while burning down.
"Arizona." Richardson's good humor was gone, replaced by the weariness of the day and the soured mood of the evening. The alcohol did not help.
"Admiral." Arizona's own mood had taken a downward turn. Even more so as she began to realize just how her intention might be received now. A part of her was still grinding away at just why she had opted for this course of action.
"Look, you've got something on your chest and it involves me." He tapped his shoulders. "I'm not an Admiral right now. No stars, no anything. Don't hold back. I have enough going on without you despising me on some level. Even more so now that you've brought Jane into this and the fact you live in my home."
Before Arizona could open her painted lips, Richardson held up his hand.
"Treat me like a civilian. Just plain old John Richardson."
Arizona took a deep breath and made her decision. It was for her. All for her.
For that small smile.
For the child who had become so taken with her and whom had helped drive off the dark.
She would repay that kindness. Whatever the cost might be. Even if...
She reached into her purse and withdrew a very specific item. A box, to be specific. It was only large enough to barely fit into her purse without appearing conspicuous. Unwrapped and still bearing a bit of adhesive from the price sticker.
A box containing a scale model of herself.
"John, please allow me to be Jane's mother." And with those words, Battleship Arizona offered the box to the dumbstruck man.
* * * * *
* * * * *
Arizona hesitated as she stood at the door before her.
Was she really going to go through with this?
Could she even afford to do so? With such a dramatic day having already unfolded before even lunch?
Particularly given who that drama had centered around?
Pennsy had shown herself to be... less than amicable when it came to the idea of working alongside her new Japanese allies. And after an altercation involving little Shigure of all people, her elder sister had been locked away. Locked away with Mutsu, Jintsuu, and Takao for a history lesson and a talk about the evolution of disciplinary action throughout the years.
Having an American shipgirl present would have been ideal, but she was the only one readily available. And her presence was not exactly the best choice right now. Not for disciplinary action at the very least.
She really wanted to be there for her sister. Both as a fellow warship, but also because she simply wanted to spend more time with her as family.
But even she would admit that taking a swing at Shigure was uncalled for.
She wasn't completely certain of the chain of events that had enabled Pennsylvania to corner the destroyer and start grilling her about Yamashiro, but it had happened regardless. And when Shigure had refused to provide, her sister's temper had flared and a fist had been loosed. The punch hadn't even come close to landing thanks to Hiei, but it had still been thrown.
It was rather impressive that Hiei had managed to intervene as she had in her condition.
Regardless...
Arizona sighed as she recalled Mutsu's parting words before she'd shooed her out of the room where Pennsy was being held.
"Yes Ari, everything has been delayed and no you may not come in. Why don't you take a break? Have some fun. Read a book. Go for a walk. Go on a date. I'll make it an order~"
And Mutsu had indeed pulled rank and made it an order.
It certainly didn't sit well with her, but she wasn't about to disobey a superior officer over something so trivial. Even if that meant her own definition of... fun was off the table. Target practice was fun. So were sea trials, exercise, and books on tactics and strategy. But Mutsu had said it was her own ideas of fun that were to be used. Or Hiei's. Arizona-Class fun was banned for the evening.
Which had brought her to where she was now.
Awkwardly hesitating before a simple wooden door.
"I am a battleship of the United States Navy. I am dedicated, steadfast, and sworn to my duty and country. I..." Without thinking, she knocked on the door. And now she was committed. There would be no evasive maneuvers here. Why did this body have to move on its own at times?
"Hang on!"
Arizona didn't have to wait longer than a few seconds before the door swung open and revealed the fastest destroyer in Japan.
"Ou! What's… Oh." Shimakaze trailed off as she processed who was at her door. A frown crossed her features. "It's the prude lagwagon."
"I-pardon?" Arizona hadn't exactly been expecting smiles and hugs and cheer, but the rather frosty welcome was quite unexpected.
"How'd you do it?" demanded Shimakaze indignantly.
"Do what, exactly?"
"Go so fast! Your sis shows up and you're off like a rocket! Standards don't move that fast. Ever. It's not supposed to be possible!" Shimakaze ranted and raved, both attempting to divine Arizona's secrets and soothe her battered pride. Her bunny-ear ribbon bounced all around as she made ever more animated claims.
"Shimakaze," Arizona finally interjected with a hard tone. This was difficult enough. Standing in the hall of the destroyer dorms only made it more awkward.
The destroyer stopped in her tracks and looked up at the battleship questioningly.
"I don't know." She raised her hand to stave off another outburst. "But rest assured that you will be the first to know if I do find out."
"...Fine. I'll hold you to that." Shimakaze crossed her arms with a huff before dropping the irritated stance and donning a more friendly tone. "So what's up? You came here for a reason, right?"
Arizona looked down the halls before leaning in to whisper her admission.
"I require your assistance with… clothing."
Shimakaze simply stared at Arizona as if the woman had grown a second head.
"May I come inside to explain?" She could feel her face heating in embarrassment, but tried to remain as composed as possible.
"...sure." Shimakaze stepped aside and beckoned Arizona into her room. Her mind was bogging down with all sorts of bizarre explanations and theories. Each more ludicrous than the last. She considered herself to be pretty sharp, but even she couldn't figure out what was going on.
Stupid American standard battleships. Why can't they make sense?
Arizona looked around Shimakaze's room as its owner set about shutting the door and rummaging through a small refrigerator for something to drink.
She would admit she was definitely surprised.
It was incredibly well kept for one. Cleanliness was to be expected, but this was fair above that. Magazines and books neatly organized in the bookshelf and not even a stray sock to be seen. Even the foam mat dominating the floor seemed to be placed just right.
"Want anything?"
"Ah, no. Thank you."
Shimakaze shrugged and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. She popped it open and took a healthy drink of it before pointing it at Arizona.
"So spill, Lieutenant. Why do you need clothing help from the stripperboat?" She almost grinned when Arizona paled. "We have lewdmarines and the Internet."
"Wh-" Arizona clamped down on that train of thought. For that way lies prude filled rage. And she did not need to drive off a potential source of help. Plus, Shimakaze was actually wearing something decent at the moment. A workout attire if she guessed right.
"Hm?"
"Right. Sorry. I apologize." She drew herself up and locked eyes with the destroyer. "I have been ordered to take time off by the Lieutenant Commander and as such I intend to go out this evening. But it would not do to be seen in uniform for such a task. But my wardrobe is… lacking and my fashion sense is not exactly up with the times."
"And you came to me?"
"You are the only one available who might have some sense of modern tastes. And I do not have good reference to place trust in my own observations." Even so, Shimakaze was very, very far down on her list of individuals to seek advice from.
Her elder sister was right out, as were those dealing with her.
Yamashiro and Shigure probably did not want to see her at the moment.
And Hiei was both missing and probably best avoided for this particular query.
Shimakaze held Arizona under a flat gaze. Her usual semi-sleepy expression one of judgment.
"...Please."
"Ou! Alright. But you follow my ideas to the letter!" She'd help the outdated American. And maybe get some petty revenge in the process. Nothing too bad. Just a little poking at the prude's sensibilities. "Or I'm not helping."
Arizona hesitated for the briefest of moments.
"Very well. I am in your care."
Shimakaze grinned and Arizona began to sweat.
"Good. Now if you're going out tonight, we need to move fast. Super fast." Shimakaze nodded sharply. Arizona was shorter and curvier than every other battleship she'd ever seen, so that meant no borrowing from any of the other shipgirls. But maybe…
Arizona began to regret her decision as Shimakaze started pacing and rattling off her thoughts far faster than should be possible.
Words like 'low cut' and 'lacy' only served to fill her with further dread.
* * * * *
Admiral Richardson trudged along the concrete pavers leading to his front door with all the energy of a lethargic zombie.
The day could not have been more mad if it had tried.
Between... effectively anything involving Pennsylvania and that nice little report filled with absurd levels of mixed news sitting on his desk, he was absolutely spent. Add in the day-to-day shenanigans and it was a small miracle he was even standing.
"What do you mean you didn't ask? That's the first thing you do!"
His hand froze before it reached the doorknob. Why was Shimakaze in his house? And why was she raising a ruckus?
"I admit that had... slipped my mind."
Now he was even more confused.
"Pfft! Ari, there are limits to being oblivious!"
And there was Hiei yucking it up with them.
"Ou!"
Right, enough of that.
"I'm home," announced Richardson tiredly as he opened the door and stepped into his home, deciding that dealing with the madness sooner than later would let him get to bed sooner. "And can someo-"
And then he was struck dumb.
If someone had told him when Battleship Arizona had appeared that he would one day see the sight before him, he'd have told them they were insane. Sure, shipgirls were beautiful on a level that defied common convention. But Arizona was a ship overflowing with a dedication to duty, to serve and to protect. Her life was her mission. An absolute and unending drive to prove her worth and atone for a failure she could have never overcome.
Arizona's idea of proper attire involved military uniforms and things that were usually filed under Sunday Best. At least, that's what he had thought after seeing and hearing what had become known as her Prude Rage. Tiny skirts and missing underwear were just two of the many things that he'd seen drive her up the wall. But right now he was seeing none of that.
"Well, someone's at a loss for words."
Were Richardson not currently trying to comprehend reality at the moment, he might have told Hiei to kindly stuff it.
He blinked and the sight did not vanish.
There was Arizona, dressed to the nines in a white dress that was exactly the sort of thing she would have taken anyone else to the breakers over. While it was almost completely all encasing with it's high neck, long sleeves, and reaching to just above her ankles, there were more than enough sheer cutouts to the form fitting garment to make him question just how much it actually concealed. Her coppery red hair was left to fall about of it's own accord save for her bangs which were held in place by a pair of silvery pins. A light bit of makeup he idly recognized as Hiei's handiwork completed the look.
"Uh..."
"Words. Use your words, Admiral," laughed Hiei. "I know she's gorgeous, but you need to use things called words to tell her."
"Lieutenant!" barked Arizona, her face turning an even darker shade of red.
"What? It's true. Just be glad Mutsu's not here." Hiei grinned as she placed her hand onto her jeans covered hip. "She's the one with the teeny tiny skirt that you don't like."
"That's not a skirt! It's a-"
Hiei held up her hand to stave off the rant and Arizona immediately went silent. Only a frown remained.
"Alright. Alright. Don't get so worked up. It'll mess up your dress. You can do that after your date."
"Ou! Don't mess that dress up!" She didn't know who this 'A' person was in supply, but they had apparently delivered a dress sized just right maybe half an hour before she'd walked in the door. And since she had no idea who this person was, much less how to contact them, she did not want to risk Arizona accidentally tearing something in her ire. But that dress was really well made...
Richardson finally shut the door as his ability to function slowly returned from the daze he had been in. The headache probably had something to do with it. And the sheer absurdity of the situation. Had he fallen and hit his head? The walkway was a bit slippery...
"Right. Back up." The Admiral waited for all three ships to turn and face him. "What's going on?"
"Riiiight... About that." Hiei walked over to Richardson and stood next to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "Ari here, was told, my Mutsu no less, that she was going to take the rest of the day off since today was... today. And that she wasn't allowed to do anything that we wouldn't find fun."
Richardson merely turned his head to look at Hiei with a flat expression.
"So! She decided she was going out on a date!"
"What?"
"A date. You know, that thing people go on for fun or for vaguely romantic intentions? The thing Kongou-oneesama has been hoping Admiral Goto will take her out on one day?" Speaking of which, she really ought to send Goto a message about that. "That kind of date? You're not old enough to forget that, are you? Please tell me you're not going senile on me."
"He is old. Super old." Shimakaze's quip earned her a glare from the Admiral and promptly ignored it in favor of spinning in place.
"Very funny." Richardson slouched despite Hiei's grip and heaved a mighty sigh. Why today of all days. Couldn't he have this madness spread out of at least two or three? Eventually he looked up at the decidedly irritated and uncomfortable looking Arizona. "Well, have fun and don't do anything stupid."
"About that."
Richardson did not like the way Hiei voiced that.
"Ou! Lagwagon didn't actually ask them out."
"You, what?"
"Sir, this is mortifying enough." Arizona seemed to turn an even deeper shade of red as she visibly struggled to maintain eye contact with him. "Please do not make it worse than these two already have."
"So... who?" He thumbed over to Hiei and was smacked upside the head by said battleship before he could say anything to get himself in hot water. A thought struck his addled mind equally hard not a moment later. Made worse when Jane rounded the corner holding what he recognized as some of his best formal wear. Oh no. Please no.
Arizona folded her hands in front of her and locked eyes with him, wearing the most determined expression he had ever seen.
"Admiral John Richardson, I would like to request your presence as my escort this evening for dinner."
* * * * *
There was little hustle or bustle in the restaurant. The hour was late and many of the patrons were making idle chatter at the bar or enjoying soft conversation over low burning candles.
Off in a secluded corner sat two individuals awaiting their meal.
One an older looking man in a sharp looking suit.
The other a red haired woman of considerable beauty.
"I apologize, Admiral. I should have put more thought into this." Arizona tried to fight away the blush on her cheeks, but had abut as much success as she'd had ever since she'd first seen the dress Shimakaze had obtained for her. That is to say, none whatsoever. And the many eyes drawn to both her and Richardson did not help in the slightest. Why were these things so popular? And why, oh why couldn't she have worn her overcoat?
It wasn't the scars she was worried about. That had never really been an issue.
No it was the fact she felt as naked as if she were in dry dock. With how this dress hugged every curve possible, it left little to nothing to the imagination. How she'd not flown into a rage was due only to the promise she'd made Shimakaze and Hiei. Even that was straining. And if Jane had asked... She'd have no hope at all.
"Probably." Richardson did his best to appear as not exhausted as possible. He might have been forced into this, but that didn't mean he was going to be an ass about it. "But hey, we've both had... involved days. Might as well enjoy ourselves since we're here."
He really did not want to think about the Miracle of the Gulf right now. And breaking the news to the rest of the fleet was not going to be easy. They might not have the same attachments to the lost, but a loss was a loss. It was... bittersweet.
"Yes, sir." Arizona folded her hands in her lap. She squirmed in her seat, not liking the silence that had fallen but also unsure how to break it. There was indeed a reason behind her actions. A reason that had been gnawing at her for the past few days and only exacerbated after today's events. But now that she finally moved to take the opportunity, she found herself paralyzed.
The contents of her purse seemed to radiate a tremendous gravity.
"Jintsuu got her autograph." Richardson was the one to break the silence after a sip of his wine.
"Pardon?"
"Nobuo Uematsu. He was at Pennsylvania's summoning. Jintsuu's been dying to get his autograph ever since she found out he had volunteered to help." He wasn't really familiar with the man's works, but he knew enough thanks to his yeoman's gushing. Jintsuu really liked her composers and musicians. And it was a personal goal of hers to get as many autographs as she could. "She's going to call up her sisters and brag the next chance she gets."
"That doesn't sound like the Yeoman." Arizona frowned as she tried to imagine it. Jintsuu was a little scary at times, but a kind and dedicated woman. Bragging just didn't sound right. She shifted her feet as she tried to imagine such a scene. "I will admit I haven't know her as long as you have, but it does not seem right."
"Let me tell you something about traffic cones." Richardson rapped his fingers against the tablecloth before raising one.
Arizona tilted her head.
Traffic cones?
"They rarely are what they seem. Naka's the flashy, frilly fleet idol, but one of the biggest computer geeks you'll ever meet. She's all but married to a machine that outperforms most supercomputers." At Arizona's disbelieving expression, he realized he'd probably need to show her one of the streams that some of his subordinates invariably sent in a Reply All email. He raised a second finger and continued, "Jintsuu's kind, dedicated, and one of the most reliable girls you'll ever meet."
"But she ...fangirls over musicians and movies?" She knew a little bit about the cinema obsession, but had yet to be exposed to the true depths of it.
"She has a Darth Vader body pillow."
"She, what?" Arizona leaned forward with an accusing glare as her image of Jintsuu was further distorted by her Admiral. "If you are making this up, sir, I will be very displeased."
"I had a hard time believing it even when I found the thing in the wash." Richardson lowered his hand. "...And she's probably going to give me a mouthful when she finds out I just spilled that."
"We all live together. I'm sure I would have found it eventually." She sighed and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. Her image of Jintsuu was slowly being cracked and broken, but somehow she felt resigned that she should have expected as much. The Sasebo fleet, while dedicated and effective to the nth degree, was more bonkers than any military unit should be by leagues.
Richardson shrugged as the atmosphere began to lose the awkwardness and slowly started to warm up into something more friendly. Or less rigid at the very least.
"What of Sendai?"
"Sendai?"
"Yes. You didn't mention the nameship." Arizona cast her eyes across the flickering flame between herself and Richardson as she spoke, not really aware of the fact she wasn't much of a blushing mess anymore.
"Oh, right. Well... I've never met Sendai. But most reports involving her involve a lot of yelling. She's a lunatic for night battles apparently." Richardson snorted. "Probably holes up in her room and listens to Beethoven with a snifter full of brandy and a smoking jacket."
"Does she wear a monocle?"
Arizona smiled with ill concealed amusement when Richardson nearly choked on his drink.
"Dammit, Ari! I-" He stopped to clear his airways. "You did that on purpose. Fuck."
"Perhaps." Arizona returned to her usual stern expression as she sipped at her own drink, a dark red wine to match Richardson's. Okay, she would admit she was having a little fun.
"Christ, Mutsu and Hiei are a bad influence."
"Or perhaps you don't know me as well as you claim?"
Richardson just glared at the attractive redhead until she looked away with a dusting of red on her cheeks.
"...I have been spending more time with them, yes." With Hiei almost having almost completely taken over the home and Mutsu back in full swing as XO, there was little time where she was not in proximity to at least one of the two. Mutsu rarely passed up a chance to tease and Hiei's sense of humor was bizarrely infectious.
Before either could speak further, their dinner arrived. Along with the remainder of the wine they had ordered.
Both offered each other a shrug and tucked into their meals.
"That going to be enough for you?" queried Richardson as Arizona began to raise a slice of sausage, nearly dripping with steaming red sauce, to her lips.
"It will... suffice as a snack. I am nearly fully stocked, so there's no need to gorge myself." Heavens knew how much she put away when really hungry. A nice, fancy dinner was not meant to serve as replenishment anyways. It was a luxury if anything. Like catching a particularly tasty fish while underway and having the spare supplies to make something special of it.
"You have no idea how much my bank account thanks you for that." Richardson smirked before taking a bite of the meat ravioli he'd ordered. He had a soft spot for Italian food. Always had.
"Pardon, sir, but you are an ass."
"Guilty."
"How does the Lieutenant Commander put up with you?" Arizona swirled her pasta through the sauce before twirling it up on her fork. It was rather impressive she hadn't spilled a drop on her dress thus far. But not eating like a starved lunatic had it's benefits.
"Because I found the line with her and I don't cross it." He speared another piece of ravioli. "I'm not sure where the line is with you yet, so give me time."
"That's hardly a gentlemanly outlook to take. And not a good example for Jane, sir." Arizona realized she had been the one to cross a line when the Admiral froze before slowly, mechanically taking a bite of his food.
Richardson set down his utensils and leveled a flat stare at Arizona.
"I'm not a gentleman, Arizona. And I'm barely an Admiral." Maintained eye contact even as he reached over to take a swig of his wine, letting the bitter taste roll over his tongue. "And right now, I'm just John Richardson. A jackass trying to raise his daughter the best he can."
"Then-!" Arizona found herself silenced when Richardson simply glared at her.
"Let's finish eating and then we can talk."
The pleasant mood vanished like smoke in the wind as both set to finishing their meals with a machined precision. While it was definitely a delicious dinner, the taste was not nearly up to the standard it had been at the beginning.
When their plates had been cleared and their glasses refilled, they remained silent.
Only the soft glow of the candle's light made any sound as it gave the occasional pop and sputter while burning down.
"Arizona." Richardson's good humor was gone, replaced by the weariness of the day and the soured mood of the evening. The alcohol did not help.
"Admiral." Arizona's own mood had taken a downward turn. Even more so as she began to realize just how her intention might be received now. A part of her was still grinding away at just why she had opted for this course of action.
"Look, you've got something on your chest and it involves me." He tapped his shoulders. "I'm not an Admiral right now. No stars, no anything. Don't hold back. I have enough going on without you despising me on some level. Even more so now that you've brought Jane into this and the fact you live in my home."
Before Arizona could open her painted lips, Richardson held up his hand.
"Treat me like a civilian. Just plain old John Richardson."
Arizona took a deep breath and made her decision. It was for her. All for her.
For that small smile.
For the child who had become so taken with her and whom had helped drive off the dark.
She would repay that kindness. Whatever the cost might be. Even if...
She reached into her purse and withdrew a very specific item. A box, to be specific. It was only large enough to barely fit into her purse without appearing conspicuous. Unwrapped and still bearing a bit of adhesive from the price sticker.
A box containing a scale model of herself.
"John, please allow me to be Jane's mother." And with those words, Battleship Arizona offered the box to the dumbstruck man.
* * * * *
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
-Found a better one-
Also, HOLY FUCK. FINALLY!
EDIT: Perfect.
Also, HOLY FUCK. FINALLY!
EDIT: Perfect.
Last edited:
CompassJimbo
Where’s Your North?
- Location
- The former Rubber Capital of the World
0_0
I... what?
What!?
WHAT!?!?
I... what?
What!?
WHAT!?!?
LGear
Secret Society BLANKET
That just means you need to step up your game Dessbote. If Ari can do it, you can too!
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
Jane: I hereby christen this ship... Um... *looks at Ari-mama*-Found a better one-
Also, HOLY FUCK. FINALLY!
EDIT: Perfect.
Arizona: *blushes*
Jane: Um... Mission Accomplished!
*whistles innocently*
Don't worry, Kongou. You were just a bit ...slow on the draw.