- Location
- State of Denial
No, she doesn't. It's an optical illusion. Read and be enlightened.
Do Battleships move sideways when they fire? - NavWeaps
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
No, she doesn't. It's an optical illusion. Read and be enlightened.
Do Battleships move sideways when they fire? - NavWeaps
Tabasco is correct (and I was about to link to the same article!). What looks like a sideways wake is actually the effect of the blast from the guns being strong enough to actually push the water below them down and to the sides, creating a hollow under the guns and a number of frothy waves circumferential to the hollow.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
Despite it's ridiculousness when it comes to high numbers, math doesn't lie in this case. I stand corrected.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
No, more like the Marilyn Munroe shot from The Seven Year Itch.
Also, saving that Kongou 'lewd'
Also, saving that Kongou 'lewd'
Omake: A Certain Lady goes on a date
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
|▽//)
* * * * *
Arizona felt her face heat up with every passing moment as she held the model kit of herself out in offering to her Admiral.
Even in the dim candlelight, she figured her all but glowing embarrassment must have been plainly visible.
Why wasn't he saying anything? Why was he just sitting there? Yes, it came out of the blue. But he was good at thinking on his feet, wasn't he?
Please. Please say something!
The contents of the box rattled slightly as the battleship's hands began to tremble.
"Arizona?"
"Y-Yes?"
"Put the box down, please."
Arizona felt her heart seize, but complied with Richardson's request. The distance between herself and the Admiral seemed to be little more than inches while feeling the same as miles. It was disconcerting and unnerving. Like her entire world had become focused on the man sitting across from her.
She could not tear her eyes away from him, not even to glance at the model kit now dominating the center of the table. Her hands were clenched into nervous fists atop the table and her back was ramrod straight. Were it not for the palpable aura of nervousness and near fear, she might have given off the illusion of determination that had brought her to this point. A bead of cold sweat trailed down her neck and slid down her back.
"I'm going to give you the option of hearing the why before I tell you my answer." Richardson was not faring much better than Arizona, but he was holding himself together far better than the standard was. "But I want to hear why you're doing this and if you even know what you're doing. You're a smart woman. A prude and sometimes a pain in the ass, but you are not stupid. Don't make me think I've misjudged you."
Richardson pushed aside his empty plate so he cloud rest his clasped hands together in front of him. What was this woman thinking... Just, why?
Arizona did her best to not shift beneath Richardson's gaze. She had to give him an answer. And she could not sugarcoat it. Nor could she weave around it. And telling a falsehood to fruitlessly heighten her chances was right out. If she was even capable of such deception.
She was a standard battleship and standards take their foes head-on. She could not run, she could not dance, she could only take every blow and give it back a dozen fold.
"Adm-John." Arizona caught herself before bringing rank into her answer. It felt odd to address her commanding officer so casually. Not unpleasant, but very unusual. "I... I want to be there for your daughter. For Jane. For as long as I am able and to do the best that I can in that capacity. To repay the kindness and love she has shown me."
Arizona's hand reached out to silence Richardson with a pair of shaking fingers upon his lips just as he had been about to speak. Her face burned even more brightly.
"P-Please let me finish."
Richardson nodded and Arizona removed her fingers, leaving behind a warmth he'd not felt in nearly a decade.
"If doing so means..." Arizona trailed off as she set her jaw and locked eyes with Richardson, a steel grey and golden gaze holding him fast with it's intensity. "If doing so means that I would be required to bind myself to you then I will take that step. I will become your wife, the mother and guardian of your children, and remain your steadfast battleship from now into forever."
The Admiral was taken aback by the raw intensity of Arizona's words. So much so that he could barely think past them. A distant memory floated up. One of more peaceful times. Of a younger, far more brash self and a headstrong hobbyist.
"...John?"
Richardson shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"Sorry. An old memory."
"A memory?"
"...Yeah. I'll tell you later." He gestured back to Arizona with an open hand. "Then either Jane's doesn't have the full story, or it's just you who's putting that kind of meaning behind it."
Arizona nodded slowly.
"Ideally, I would not even entertain these desires outside of wedlock." A small, almost empty smile flitted across Arizona's lips. "I'm a old-fashioned girl, after all."
Richardson resisted the urge to make a snipe about her infamous Prude Rage and simply nodded.
"And you believe that you can do your best for Jane, for my child, by marrying me and becoming both her mother and mother to her siblings." He worded it less as a question and more as a statement of fact. Shipgirls had their own twisted sense of logic and a part of him was extremely worried he was able to follow it. Seeing one of Albacore's fairy crew had been unreal enough. "Tell me now if I'm wrong."
"You are not wrong." Arizona swallowed yet another bundle of nerves as every fibre of her being remained on edge.
Richardson took a deep breath and prepared himself.
"I will not marry you, Arizona."
Arizona froze.
"For every reason you just listed, and more, I cannot in any kind of good conscience accept your offer and live with myself." He narrowed his eyes at the shaking warship. "You've known Jane for what? Two months? And you're already claiming you've got a foolproof plan to be the best mother possible for her?"
"I-!" Arizona's protest died on her lips as she realized she could not refute Richardson's words. The refusal felt all the worse without his usual expletives and abrasive tone. Her gaze lowered as a tremendous shame settled upon her shoulders. Shame and regret at having gone so far in the dark. Good intentions paved a very dangerous path after all.
"What did you want me to do? Say yes, whisk you off to a chapel so we could exchange vows, and carry you home as my blushing bride?"
"There was a hope you would." Arizona raised her head, stands of copper hair slipping from the silver pins to fall across her face.
"All for Jane's sake?"
"Yes."
Richardson would never have refuted Arizona's dedication to carrying out her mission before this day. Whether self declared or handed down the chain. And if he ever let such a thought cross his mind from this moment onward, this evening would remind him he was the greatest fool who ever lived.
She was placing everything on the line for the happiness of one person.
A single child who had given her a ray of hope amongst her nightmares.
He wanted Arizona to say something. To damn herself in some way. To make this easier in some way possible. But from what he had learned of this battleship, she would not. Not if she could help it.
Arizona seemed to wilt as her hopes were dashed in the ensuing silence.
And Richardson felt wretched for having been the cause.
But he stood from his seat and walked around to where Arizona sat.
She turned to look up at him with a pained expression, marked with questions.
"But I'm going to tell you the biggest fucking reasons I'm saying no." Richardson leaned down and cupped Arizona's cheeks, gently forcing her to face him. He could see the suffering and the confusion in her beautiful, steel grey eyes and the slight twitch of her lips. All encompassed by a fiery blush.
"I don't love you. And you don't love me."
Arizona drew a sharp breath, but did not fight away her Admiral's touch.
He was... He was correct. She knew this. She was attempting to force herself into a loveless marriage for what she hoped would be for Jane's benefit.
"I suppose I have not been completely myself today. B-Between my sister, the madness of the war, the holidays, wanting to make Jane happy, a-and all sorts of things. Perhaps I have not been thinking clearly. There is no love between us..." That was, were she to put further voice to her honesty, quite the understatement. And still, despite the truth of their admissions, it hurt.
It should not hurt to have a hope and a future that never was, denied.
But it did.
"At least you know you're not yourself right now. If this were another time or another place. Maybe if we'd met under different circumstances or in different roles. If we had been in almost any other situation than we are in now." Richardson smirked despite himself. Maybe the wine had made his tongue a bit too free. "Then I would have been overjoyed to put a ring on your finger."
"You are a cad, John Richardson." Arizona sniffed, but managed a smile. Despite the pain in her heart, there was a tremendous relief. "You dare refuse me so strongly and then say such things? You should be glad we are not at sea."
"I said I wasn't a gentleman, Ari."
"And now I am even more concerned for Jane's future." She narrowed slightly misty eyes at the man still cradling her face.
"I'm not going to marry you, but I'm not going to say you can't be Ari-mama for her." Richardson let his gaze flicker down towards Arizona's slightly parted lips, painted a light red for the evening. Not too red, but just the right shade to match her hair... "If I had an issue with it, I'd have put a stop to it when she started calling Hiei that. That good enough for you?"
Arizona released a sigh of relief she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She leaned slightly into Richardson's hold without really thinking before giving him a mild smile.
"It is." She raised one eyebrow. "And how long do you intend to hold me?"
"I dunno. How long do I have before you bring out your big guns? Or the rage?" He simply couldn't resist the tease.
"I would give you half a step and no more."
"Harsh."
"You're not letting go."
"Sorry."
With only the barest hints of hesitation, Richardson removed his hands from Arizona.
Arizona herself pursed her lips, but said nothing further.
"I suppose we should get going then. Pay the bill and hit the road." Richardson tried to walk back to his seat, but his steps were uneasy now and it took placing a hand on the table to steady himself.
"John? Are you alright?" Arizona stood as Richardson managed to take his seat. She placed a hand on his shoulder to draw his attention further to herself. He'd seemed fine before. What had happened?
The answer came when he gestured towards the nearly empty wine bottle they had been sharing.
"Oh. I see."
"Been a while since I've had that much."
"And you are hardly a young man anymore. You should take better care of yourself." Arizona frowned, but rebuked him no further. Rather she fetched her purse and began rifling through it, seeking her Navy issued purchase card. It was rather handy to have and certainly better than carrying around so much loose change.
She turned back to Richardson as he tapped her elbow with something hard.
"Here, use mine."
Arizona took the offered card with a nod and left to settle the bill while Richardson remained in his seat, looking more and more exhausted with each passing moment. It seemed that once the energy had settled, the whole of the day's events had come crashing down on him. And he really was not a spring chicken anymore. The drink hadn't helped in the slightest.
He blinked in surprise when Arizona returned far more quickly than expected.
"There was no line. And I told them there was no need to order a taxi," spoke the redhead in response to his querying glance. The transport that had brought them here should be waiting for a summons not far from here. Plus, with the late hour it seemed as if the staff were hoping to close up as quickly as possible so they could get their own rest. She was not about to complain. "Come now, let's get you home."
It took a couple of tries before Richardson was able to haul himself to his feet and he would have sagged to the floor were it not for one of Arizona's strong arms wrapping itself around his shoulder to prop him up. It was a rather amusing sight given the height difference between them.
Wordlessly, she collected her belongings, model kit included, and began helping her Admiral out the door. Her dress was getting slightly rumpled for her efforts, but she paid it no mind.
They waved goodbye and offered their thanks to the staff as they left.
"Hey, Ari?" began Richardson as they sat on one of the benches outside the restaurant, waiting for their ride.
"Yes, John?" she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, her arm still supporting him.
"I won't apologize for rejecting you." Even discounting the reasons he had given Arizona, there were certain steps he had sworn himself to not take. Steps that were becoming much, much harder to avoid as time went on.
"I'd have thrown you into the South China Sea if you had." Without hesitation or remorse at that. And possibly with her catapult.
"I will apologize if I was jerk about it."
The streetlights and the blinking skyscrapers seemed to twinkle in the late hour, like the constructions were doing their best to make up for the starlight they dimmed out.
"No more than usual. But thank you for your consideration."
They sat in an oddly comfortable silence all things considered. A barrier had been broken between them. Some unspoken or unknown line had been crossed. And yet, neither felt... displeased with the turn of events that had taken place. Nor the results.
"Transport's taking it's time."
"...They are rather late."
A loud buzzing accompanied by a rather obnoxious ringtone managed to make itself heard over the din of late night traffic. Both Arizona and Richardson looked down in the direction of the left suit pocket belonging to the latter of the two. Richardson himself groaned as he recognized his phone going off. He had chosen that ringtone specifically for the purpose of forcing him to answer with as much haste as possible.
With a bit of fumbling, he managed to fish it out with the arm not currently pinned to his side by the battleship sitting next to him.
"Richardson."
Arizona managed to make out a few words coming from the rather too loud speaker. Things like delays and broken. Not exactly the best of signs.
When her Admiral put the other side on hold, he let out a disgusted sigh.
"May I wager our ride is late?" It seemed well within reason to her. "Or worse?"
"Fun thing about military hardware. When it breaks down, it really breaks down. We can wait for our ride to get repaired or we can wait for a new ride to get here from the base." Apparently even the most well built and durable heavy transports could only handle hauling shipgirls for so long before something finally gave out.
"How would we have to wait?" Arizona was not exactly enjoying the idea of sitting around for possibly hours on end.
"Considering how slow those things are? A few hours at least for a new ride. And that many more back." And that was the fast option. Waiting for a repair could take even longer. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he loosed a truly massive yawn.
Arizona pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. Nothing was ever simple.
"May I suggest we simply find somewhere to stay for the night then?" Her jaw snapped shut with a click as she realized just what she had suggested sounded like. And after tonight's debacle no less! "I-In an a-absolutely platonic sense! Y-You need the rest far more than I do a-and sitting around here waiting will do neither of us any good."
Richardson would honestly admit he was too tired and still a bit too buzzed to really think of a good alternative. And the siren's song of a comfortable bed, even if not his own, was too tempting to resist. He also wasn't enough of a jerk to get a ride of his own back to base and just leave Arizona here all by herself.
"That's fine. We're two relatively sane adults who just need a place to sleep for the night. Not a pair of drunk jackasses looking for some action." He held up his phone and began thumbing around to get ahold of the driver again. "I'll let them know. Give 'em an update when we find a place to stay, too."
While Richardson conveyed the change of plans to the driver, who sounded somewhat relieved and strangely excited at the news, Arizona helped him to his feet again. He was a bit more steady, but she wasn't going to just leave him to his own devices just yet. Perhaps she'd feel more comfortable letting him walk on his own once they got closer to their destination.
"And there's that... He even gave directions for the nearest hotel."
"That was courteous of him." Arizona readjusted her hold on Richardson's taller form as they began walking. It was easier to keep him steady and easier on her own grip if she held him closer to his middle. It also brought up a niggling of rage at her own impropriety, which had been oddly silent as of recent hours. A light blush dusted her cheeks. "You... may put your arm around me if it helps."
"You sure?" Richardson gave his tired question with little resistance.
"I would not have offered otherwise." She did not have to wait long for his arm to rest itself about her shoulders. A grumble escaped her lips as they continued their trek. "But this is still incredibly improper..."
"Could be worse." Another yawn overtook Richardson and left him blinking to regain his sight. He fiddled with his tie to loosen it's hold around his neck.
"I'll ask that you not elaborate."
"Probably for the best."
And so, beneath the lights of the city and under a wintry night sky, a warship and her Admiral walked not as superior and subordinate, but as something more.
* * * * *
Unbeknownst to the pair, a set of utterly dumbfounded pink eyes tracked their every movement.
"That's not possible." She slowly reached up to pinch one of her cheeks and found that she was neither dreaming nor hallucinating. "Iku can't believe it, but Iku is still seeing it."
"See vhat?" queried Hachi.
Iku merely pointed at the slowly retreating form of Arizona and Richardson.
"...Oh dear."
* * * * *
* * * * *
Arizona felt her face heat up with every passing moment as she held the model kit of herself out in offering to her Admiral.
Even in the dim candlelight, she figured her all but glowing embarrassment must have been plainly visible.
Why wasn't he saying anything? Why was he just sitting there? Yes, it came out of the blue. But he was good at thinking on his feet, wasn't he?
Please. Please say something!
The contents of the box rattled slightly as the battleship's hands began to tremble.
"Arizona?"
"Y-Yes?"
"Put the box down, please."
Arizona felt her heart seize, but complied with Richardson's request. The distance between herself and the Admiral seemed to be little more than inches while feeling the same as miles. It was disconcerting and unnerving. Like her entire world had become focused on the man sitting across from her.
She could not tear her eyes away from him, not even to glance at the model kit now dominating the center of the table. Her hands were clenched into nervous fists atop the table and her back was ramrod straight. Were it not for the palpable aura of nervousness and near fear, she might have given off the illusion of determination that had brought her to this point. A bead of cold sweat trailed down her neck and slid down her back.
"I'm going to give you the option of hearing the why before I tell you my answer." Richardson was not faring much better than Arizona, but he was holding himself together far better than the standard was. "But I want to hear why you're doing this and if you even know what you're doing. You're a smart woman. A prude and sometimes a pain in the ass, but you are not stupid. Don't make me think I've misjudged you."
Richardson pushed aside his empty plate so he cloud rest his clasped hands together in front of him. What was this woman thinking... Just, why?
Arizona did her best to not shift beneath Richardson's gaze. She had to give him an answer. And she could not sugarcoat it. Nor could she weave around it. And telling a falsehood to fruitlessly heighten her chances was right out. If she was even capable of such deception.
She was a standard battleship and standards take their foes head-on. She could not run, she could not dance, she could only take every blow and give it back a dozen fold.
"Adm-John." Arizona caught herself before bringing rank into her answer. It felt odd to address her commanding officer so casually. Not unpleasant, but very unusual. "I... I want to be there for your daughter. For Jane. For as long as I am able and to do the best that I can in that capacity. To repay the kindness and love she has shown me."
Arizona's hand reached out to silence Richardson with a pair of shaking fingers upon his lips just as he had been about to speak. Her face burned even more brightly.
"P-Please let me finish."
Richardson nodded and Arizona removed her fingers, leaving behind a warmth he'd not felt in nearly a decade.
"If doing so means..." Arizona trailed off as she set her jaw and locked eyes with Richardson, a steel grey and golden gaze holding him fast with it's intensity. "If doing so means that I would be required to bind myself to you then I will take that step. I will become your wife, the mother and guardian of your children, and remain your steadfast battleship from now into forever."
The Admiral was taken aback by the raw intensity of Arizona's words. So much so that he could barely think past them. A distant memory floated up. One of more peaceful times. Of a younger, far more brash self and a headstrong hobbyist.
"...John?"
Richardson shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"Sorry. An old memory."
"A memory?"
"...Yeah. I'll tell you later." He gestured back to Arizona with an open hand. "Then either Jane's doesn't have the full story, or it's just you who's putting that kind of meaning behind it."
Arizona nodded slowly.
"Ideally, I would not even entertain these desires outside of wedlock." A small, almost empty smile flitted across Arizona's lips. "I'm a old-fashioned girl, after all."
Richardson resisted the urge to make a snipe about her infamous Prude Rage and simply nodded.
"And you believe that you can do your best for Jane, for my child, by marrying me and becoming both her mother and mother to her siblings." He worded it less as a question and more as a statement of fact. Shipgirls had their own twisted sense of logic and a part of him was extremely worried he was able to follow it. Seeing one of Albacore's fairy crew had been unreal enough. "Tell me now if I'm wrong."
"You are not wrong." Arizona swallowed yet another bundle of nerves as every fibre of her being remained on edge.
Richardson took a deep breath and prepared himself.
"I will not marry you, Arizona."
Arizona froze.
"For every reason you just listed, and more, I cannot in any kind of good conscience accept your offer and live with myself." He narrowed his eyes at the shaking warship. "You've known Jane for what? Two months? And you're already claiming you've got a foolproof plan to be the best mother possible for her?"
"I-!" Arizona's protest died on her lips as she realized she could not refute Richardson's words. The refusal felt all the worse without his usual expletives and abrasive tone. Her gaze lowered as a tremendous shame settled upon her shoulders. Shame and regret at having gone so far in the dark. Good intentions paved a very dangerous path after all.
"What did you want me to do? Say yes, whisk you off to a chapel so we could exchange vows, and carry you home as my blushing bride?"
"There was a hope you would." Arizona raised her head, stands of copper hair slipping from the silver pins to fall across her face.
"All for Jane's sake?"
"Yes."
Richardson would never have refuted Arizona's dedication to carrying out her mission before this day. Whether self declared or handed down the chain. And if he ever let such a thought cross his mind from this moment onward, this evening would remind him he was the greatest fool who ever lived.
She was placing everything on the line for the happiness of one person.
A single child who had given her a ray of hope amongst her nightmares.
He wanted Arizona to say something. To damn herself in some way. To make this easier in some way possible. But from what he had learned of this battleship, she would not. Not if she could help it.
Arizona seemed to wilt as her hopes were dashed in the ensuing silence.
And Richardson felt wretched for having been the cause.
But he stood from his seat and walked around to where Arizona sat.
She turned to look up at him with a pained expression, marked with questions.
"But I'm going to tell you the biggest fucking reasons I'm saying no." Richardson leaned down and cupped Arizona's cheeks, gently forcing her to face him. He could see the suffering and the confusion in her beautiful, steel grey eyes and the slight twitch of her lips. All encompassed by a fiery blush.
"I don't love you. And you don't love me."
Arizona drew a sharp breath, but did not fight away her Admiral's touch.
He was... He was correct. She knew this. She was attempting to force herself into a loveless marriage for what she hoped would be for Jane's benefit.
"I suppose I have not been completely myself today. B-Between my sister, the madness of the war, the holidays, wanting to make Jane happy, a-and all sorts of things. Perhaps I have not been thinking clearly. There is no love between us..." That was, were she to put further voice to her honesty, quite the understatement. And still, despite the truth of their admissions, it hurt.
It should not hurt to have a hope and a future that never was, denied.
But it did.
"At least you know you're not yourself right now. If this were another time or another place. Maybe if we'd met under different circumstances or in different roles. If we had been in almost any other situation than we are in now." Richardson smirked despite himself. Maybe the wine had made his tongue a bit too free. "Then I would have been overjoyed to put a ring on your finger."
"You are a cad, John Richardson." Arizona sniffed, but managed a smile. Despite the pain in her heart, there was a tremendous relief. "You dare refuse me so strongly and then say such things? You should be glad we are not at sea."
"I said I wasn't a gentleman, Ari."
"And now I am even more concerned for Jane's future." She narrowed slightly misty eyes at the man still cradling her face.
"I'm not going to marry you, but I'm not going to say you can't be Ari-mama for her." Richardson let his gaze flicker down towards Arizona's slightly parted lips, painted a light red for the evening. Not too red, but just the right shade to match her hair... "If I had an issue with it, I'd have put a stop to it when she started calling Hiei that. That good enough for you?"
Arizona released a sigh of relief she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She leaned slightly into Richardson's hold without really thinking before giving him a mild smile.
"It is." She raised one eyebrow. "And how long do you intend to hold me?"
"I dunno. How long do I have before you bring out your big guns? Or the rage?" He simply couldn't resist the tease.
"I would give you half a step and no more."
"Harsh."
"You're not letting go."
"Sorry."
With only the barest hints of hesitation, Richardson removed his hands from Arizona.
Arizona herself pursed her lips, but said nothing further.
"I suppose we should get going then. Pay the bill and hit the road." Richardson tried to walk back to his seat, but his steps were uneasy now and it took placing a hand on the table to steady himself.
"John? Are you alright?" Arizona stood as Richardson managed to take his seat. She placed a hand on his shoulder to draw his attention further to herself. He'd seemed fine before. What had happened?
The answer came when he gestured towards the nearly empty wine bottle they had been sharing.
"Oh. I see."
"Been a while since I've had that much."
"And you are hardly a young man anymore. You should take better care of yourself." Arizona frowned, but rebuked him no further. Rather she fetched her purse and began rifling through it, seeking her Navy issued purchase card. It was rather handy to have and certainly better than carrying around so much loose change.
She turned back to Richardson as he tapped her elbow with something hard.
"Here, use mine."
Arizona took the offered card with a nod and left to settle the bill while Richardson remained in his seat, looking more and more exhausted with each passing moment. It seemed that once the energy had settled, the whole of the day's events had come crashing down on him. And he really was not a spring chicken anymore. The drink hadn't helped in the slightest.
He blinked in surprise when Arizona returned far more quickly than expected.
"There was no line. And I told them there was no need to order a taxi," spoke the redhead in response to his querying glance. The transport that had brought them here should be waiting for a summons not far from here. Plus, with the late hour it seemed as if the staff were hoping to close up as quickly as possible so they could get their own rest. She was not about to complain. "Come now, let's get you home."
It took a couple of tries before Richardson was able to haul himself to his feet and he would have sagged to the floor were it not for one of Arizona's strong arms wrapping itself around his shoulder to prop him up. It was a rather amusing sight given the height difference between them.
Wordlessly, she collected her belongings, model kit included, and began helping her Admiral out the door. Her dress was getting slightly rumpled for her efforts, but she paid it no mind.
They waved goodbye and offered their thanks to the staff as they left.
"Hey, Ari?" began Richardson as they sat on one of the benches outside the restaurant, waiting for their ride.
"Yes, John?" she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, her arm still supporting him.
"I won't apologize for rejecting you." Even discounting the reasons he had given Arizona, there were certain steps he had sworn himself to not take. Steps that were becoming much, much harder to avoid as time went on.
"I'd have thrown you into the South China Sea if you had." Without hesitation or remorse at that. And possibly with her catapult.
"I will apologize if I was jerk about it."
The streetlights and the blinking skyscrapers seemed to twinkle in the late hour, like the constructions were doing their best to make up for the starlight they dimmed out.
"No more than usual. But thank you for your consideration."
They sat in an oddly comfortable silence all things considered. A barrier had been broken between them. Some unspoken or unknown line had been crossed. And yet, neither felt... displeased with the turn of events that had taken place. Nor the results.
"Transport's taking it's time."
"...They are rather late."
A loud buzzing accompanied by a rather obnoxious ringtone managed to make itself heard over the din of late night traffic. Both Arizona and Richardson looked down in the direction of the left suit pocket belonging to the latter of the two. Richardson himself groaned as he recognized his phone going off. He had chosen that ringtone specifically for the purpose of forcing him to answer with as much haste as possible.
With a bit of fumbling, he managed to fish it out with the arm not currently pinned to his side by the battleship sitting next to him.
"Richardson."
Arizona managed to make out a few words coming from the rather too loud speaker. Things like delays and broken. Not exactly the best of signs.
When her Admiral put the other side on hold, he let out a disgusted sigh.
"May I wager our ride is late?" It seemed well within reason to her. "Or worse?"
"Fun thing about military hardware. When it breaks down, it really breaks down. We can wait for our ride to get repaired or we can wait for a new ride to get here from the base." Apparently even the most well built and durable heavy transports could only handle hauling shipgirls for so long before something finally gave out.
"How would we have to wait?" Arizona was not exactly enjoying the idea of sitting around for possibly hours on end.
"Considering how slow those things are? A few hours at least for a new ride. And that many more back." And that was the fast option. Waiting for a repair could take even longer. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he loosed a truly massive yawn.
Arizona pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. Nothing was ever simple.
"May I suggest we simply find somewhere to stay for the night then?" Her jaw snapped shut with a click as she realized just what she had suggested sounded like. And after tonight's debacle no less! "I-In an a-absolutely platonic sense! Y-You need the rest far more than I do a-and sitting around here waiting will do neither of us any good."
Richardson would honestly admit he was too tired and still a bit too buzzed to really think of a good alternative. And the siren's song of a comfortable bed, even if not his own, was too tempting to resist. He also wasn't enough of a jerk to get a ride of his own back to base and just leave Arizona here all by herself.
"That's fine. We're two relatively sane adults who just need a place to sleep for the night. Not a pair of drunk jackasses looking for some action." He held up his phone and began thumbing around to get ahold of the driver again. "I'll let them know. Give 'em an update when we find a place to stay, too."
While Richardson conveyed the change of plans to the driver, who sounded somewhat relieved and strangely excited at the news, Arizona helped him to his feet again. He was a bit more steady, but she wasn't going to just leave him to his own devices just yet. Perhaps she'd feel more comfortable letting him walk on his own once they got closer to their destination.
"And there's that... He even gave directions for the nearest hotel."
"That was courteous of him." Arizona readjusted her hold on Richardson's taller form as they began walking. It was easier to keep him steady and easier on her own grip if she held him closer to his middle. It also brought up a niggling of rage at her own impropriety, which had been oddly silent as of recent hours. A light blush dusted her cheeks. "You... may put your arm around me if it helps."
"You sure?" Richardson gave his tired question with little resistance.
"I would not have offered otherwise." She did not have to wait long for his arm to rest itself about her shoulders. A grumble escaped her lips as they continued their trek. "But this is still incredibly improper..."
"Could be worse." Another yawn overtook Richardson and left him blinking to regain his sight. He fiddled with his tie to loosen it's hold around his neck.
"I'll ask that you not elaborate."
"Probably for the best."
And so, beneath the lights of the city and under a wintry night sky, a warship and her Admiral walked not as superior and subordinate, but as something more.
* * * * *
Unbeknownst to the pair, a set of utterly dumbfounded pink eyes tracked their every movement.
"That's not possible." She slowly reached up to pinch one of her cheeks and found that she was neither dreaming nor hallucinating. "Iku can't believe it, but Iku is still seeing it."
"See vhat?" queried Hachi.
Iku merely pointed at the slowly retreating form of Arizona and Richardson.
"...Oh dear."
* * * * *
Stahor
BookWorm
- Location
- Russia, Moscow
- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
Poor Ari.... But it's the best way. You're not asking to marry Jane, Arizona. You're asking Richardson. You'd better want him if you're asking that, and he can see you're not.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
I feel profoundly sorry for Arizona, in that she's this tremendous mass of self-aware devotion trying to find an appropriate outlet.
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
He's been around the block and he's not the kind of guy to take advatage of someone like that.
Richardson: . . . *gives Ari headpats*
Arizona: I do not think it has the same impact if you are the reason I need them in the first place.
Richardson: Shut up and let me do this.
Arizona: *huffs, but leans into the headpats*
Mutsu:
She'll find one. One day. Or she'll finally realize just how to use the ones she already has.
She's a stubborn old standard battleship. She'll keep on going until she's physically incapable of doing so.
Sisters and Steel
- Location
- 'Murica
Support Carrier Shinano halfheartedly poked at her mountainous breakfast of rice and chicken bits with a spoon. It wasn't that she wasn't hungry, her belly had been grumbling at her to replenish her exhausted repair supplies for the past few hours. But eating just felt so unappealing to her right how. Her gut was a knotted mess of worry and fear, and just poking at her food made the big carrier feel miserable.
"What if she doesn't like me?" Shinano crossed her massive legs and worried the heavy canvas hem of her underskirt.
"Huh?" White leaned around Shinano's mountainous helping of rice with a spoonful of cereal firmly planted in her cheek.
"M-" Shinano shuddered to a stop and paused to collect herself. "Miss Musashi. I never met her back…" the carrier trailed off and stared down at the slowly regrowing stump of her left arm. It was almost a mockery of an arm. It was far too short and stumpy for her size, the skin was still shiny and fresh. Her hand was little more than a lopsided blob of flesh, her fingers were nubs barely the size of mosquito bites that couldn't even touch her own palm.
It was a mockery of an arm… was… was she a mockery of a Yamato?
"She's your sister," White stared at the timid Japanese girl. Then, with great pomp and somber grace, the tiny American placed her spoon back in her bowl of soggy fruit loops, clambered over the table, and hopped into Shinano's lap to give her a hug. "I'm sure she loves you."
Shinano blushed, and buried her face in White's comforting chest. She felt her glasses squish against her nose, but she didn't care. The towering support carrier just squeezed her eyes closed to hold back her brewing tears. "B-but what if she doesn't?"
"She will," White wrapped her arms around Shinano's head and hugged that part of her to. "I have forty-nine sisters. Trust me, she will."
Shinano sniffed, and tried her very best to melt into the tiny American's comforting embrace. As much as she loved Houshou's kindly wisdom, Shinano had decided that White was her real mother. The big carrier never felt quite as comfortable as she did in White's arms.
"She'll probably be proud of you, too." White gave Shinano's head a squeeze, then ran her hands though the big carrier's black ponytail. "Why don't you wear your braid anymore?" she asked, "You came back like that, and it looked really cool."
Shinano shot a puffy-eyed look up at the little escort carrier, "I… I can't do it myself. I don't know how to braid hair." She blinked, and pushed her glasses back up her nose with the stubby nubs on the end of her left arm, "Why… why do you think she'd be proud of me?"
White looked at the carrier like she'd grown a second head. Which, given the borderline magical abilities of American Damage Control, wasn't something Shinano was willing to totally rule out at this point. "You saved Japan, silly!"
Shinano blinked again. "I… I saved Tokyo, and I didn't even do that. I… I shot down a few Stukas is all." She buried her face in White's chest again. "Anyone could do that."
"Maybe," said White, "but you did do it."
Shinano whimpered in the inquisitive.
"Do you want to hear a story I heard from Enterprise?" asked White.
Shinano whimpered in the affirmative.
"Well," White settled down onto the giant carrier's lap, her stumpy legs splayed around Shinano's waist while her fingers were laced behind the towering Japanese girl's thick neck. "After Pearl, she said she'd never been quite so scared in her whole life."
"E-Enterprise was scared?"
White nodded. "She'd watched her friends die, and now she was heading far to the North. And only her Admiral seemed to know why. She told me she was terrified the whole time, even called General Quarters on nothing she was so scared."
Shinano nodded, eager for her momboat to continue the story.
"Then," said White, "Enterprise told me she saw a ship approaching her in the dawn sunlight. In the darkness, it took her a moment to recognize it as her little sister, Hornet." White slipped off Shinano's lap and settled onto the table itself. "Only Hornet had her deck bursting with bombers."
"The Tokyo raid," said Shinano. "I… I've heard of that." She blinked. "You didn't do anything."
"It doesn't matter what we did to you," said White. "What mattered is we showed ourselves we weren't out yet. Enterprise said that was the moment she started to hope again."
Shinano smiled. "I like that story," she said. "But… what does it have to do with me?"
"You took a hit," White pointed to Shinano's stumpy arm, "That would've sent Enterprise running with her tail between her legs. And you stood back up and launched a strike!" White spread her little arms wide and beamed at the support carrier, "You showed Japan that you're faithful."
"I… I guess," said Shinano. Before she could say anything more, the doors to the mess hall all but exploded off their hinges into a spray of flying wooden splinters.
Standing framed in the doorway was the sodden form of superbattleship Musashi. Her snowy white hair as damped down against her skull, and the shirt she wore draped over her shoulders was sopping wet. Salt dripped from her abbreviated skirt and poured down her chocolate skin in a thousand tiny rivulets.
She was so wet from her trip across the Pacific, the tear streaks coming off her bloodshot eyes were almost lost in the background noise. Almost. Her lips parted in a breathless word and her head pivoted over with the oiled gravity of her main battery to focus on Shinano.
And then the battleship moved. One towering heel was placed in front of the other as Musashi built up speed. The crowd parted before her like the sea itself, even the air seemed to be giving her a wide berth.
Shinano scrambled to her feet, only to wince when the bench she sat on carved a scrape along her shin. She bit back the pain and snapped her one good hand up in a proper salute. "Musashi-dono," she said. "I—"
She didn't get another word out. Musashi grabbed the carrier in a tight hug and squeezed her into her own soaking wet chest. The battleship buried her face in the carrier's neck and didn't even bother to hide the happy sobs pouring from her mouth.
Shinano froze. Her heart rate scrambled for redline and she felt her cheeks go a brilliant crimson. "Mu-musashi-dono—"
"I'm your sister." Musashi planted a wet kiss on the carrier's cheek before squeezing her even tighter. "And I love you," she panted. "So very, very much."
Shinano felt herself melt into her big sister's arms as all her worries went up like smoke. She had a sister now! A sister who didn't just tolerate her… but… but loved her! The big carrier buried her face in Muashi's soaking wet neck and cried heavy tears of joy. She couldn't remember another time she felt quite this happy.
White squealed for almost five minutes before running over to hug both girls—or at least their legs.
Shinano let a tired, sobbing laugh slip though her lips. Okay, now she couldn't remember ever being quite so happy.
—|—|—
Tenryuu—in the honest, objective, totally non-biased opinion of Tenryuu—had never looked quite as badassfuly cool. Or perhaps cooly badass. Whatever the order, the amount of both "cool" and "badass" were both hovering well north of the top of the charts.
The light cruiser had her purple-tinged hair resting in perfectly-rakish layers, her tie hung at a tastefully rebellion angle around her neck, and the sleeves of her cardigan were rolled up to the perfect action-hero level. And that's not even touching the degrees of utter refined weapons-grade cool oozing from her eyepatch and ominously glowing floaters.
Or fingerless gloves. Tenryuu didn't feel the need to any cool-sounding adjectives to her gloves. Just the mere fact that they were fingerless should be enough to convince even the most hardened doubter that they were indeed badass personified. They were even leather. Black, shiny leather. Everyone knew things are just inherently cooler when they were black leather.
But… but all of that refined badassitude that was the nameship of the Tenryuu-class of light cruiser utterly paled in comparison to the final element of cool completing her look.
The mighty sword Tenryuu had resting on her shoulder with the kind of careless ease that marks someone as a badass of the hardest core when applied to something so lethal. Well… that or an idiot, but Tenryuu was no fool.
The sword, which was forged by the greatest smiths Japan had to offer from a thousand layers of carefully chosen steel and was most certainly not bought off ebay fuck you Tatsuta for starting that rumor that is false, was called Waterline. And it had no equal.
It was so cool, in fact, that Tenryuu had to take a moment to let her giggles dissipate before she continued. Because seriously, standing with one hand on your hip and the other resting on a sword is just awesome.
But, when the cruiser had finally settled back down to her usual level of impeccable cool, she tapped the back of her hand against the door of a certain Major she'd grown fond of.
"C'min," grunted a half-interested voice muffled almost to nothing by the door.
Tenryuu huffed. She would have preferred a more dynamic greeting from her great rival in the realm of swordsmanship. Or… swordswomanship? Swords-boat ship? Whatever. It wasn't dynamic enough! Luckily, Tenryuu was a cruiser of the Japanese navy. She could make her own dynamic entries, thank you very much!
"Solette!" Tenryuu barked and sent the door flying open with a swing of her hip. "I have- OW!"
"Turn the handle," came the voice of an utterly unfazed nurse.
Tenryuu scowled and rubbed her bruised hipbone. Her entry had not gone as planned. Not gone as planned at all. Oh well, time to improvise. The cruiser turned the handle and pushed the door open just enough to disengage the latch.
"Solette!" she barked, sending the door flying with a swing of her hip. This time it worked! "I have need of your assistance!"
The major—who looked like he was fighting a loosing battle to fill out paperwork faster than it could reproduce—didn't even bother looking up from the forms he was completing. "Take a number."
Tenryuu puffed out her cheeks in a pout. A supremely badass pout, of course. Still, she would not be swayed from her chosen course. "You know," the cruiser planted a hand on her hip and threw out one leg, "I was walking the base the other day."
"If you flashed anyone, I don't want to hear about it." Solette pointed to a comically large pile of folders sitting in the remotest corner of his desk. A sticky note on the top read 'SHARPs'. Suddenly, the remoteness of the pile made sense. Solette was no doubt attempting to keep the lewdness from tainting the rest of his work.
"Major!" Tenryuu huffed, and her floaters floated in a badassfully upset manner. Her honor had been besmirched—that was a word right, besmirched?—anyway, there was an implied stain on her honor. "I would never do such a thing!"
"Mmm," Solette moved a completed form to the tiniest pile on his desk and picked a fresh form from one of the waiting piles. All without so much as glancing at the cruiser.
"It was probably Kirishima," said Tenryuu, "Or Wash."
"Makes sense," said Solette as he set to work completing this latest form.
"Anyways," Tenryuu planted her sword in the floor and used its decorated hilt as a rest for her gloved hands. Fingerless-gloved, that is. "I was walking around the base, when what should I find but!" She paused for dramatic effect. "A Nest! A Nest of feral cardboard boxes!"
Solette didn't even blink.
"Of course," Tenryuu puffed out her inexplicably—even to her—large chest and polished her fingernails on the fabric of her sweater, "I slew all the foul creatures."
"That's nice," said Solette with utter disinterest.
"Their leader was there too," Tenryuu smirked and flung a lock of hair past her patched-over eye. "A vast creature. They called him… the Box of Refrigerator."
"Uh huh."
"I slew him as well," Tenryuu laughed in a cool and badass manner. "It was a glorious battle."
"I'm sure it was."
Tenryuu knit her brows in a pout. "Of course…" she leaned over with a smirk, wood chipping as her blade bit into the floor. "I've heard tell of an even greater infestation of boxes behind the kitchens. An infestation so vast it may take two warriors to slay!"
Solette wordlessly reached for another form. "Tenryuu, I have a lot of work to do."
"Whyyyyyyyy!" Tenryuu fell to her knees, her gloved hands resting on the major's desk as she moaned in anguish. "I wanna go sword things with you!"
Solette shook his head.
"Pleaaase!" pleaded Tenryuu. She clasped her hands together and put on the wounded-puppy look she'd learned from her division mates. Riding herd on DesDiv six might be a pain in the stern sometimes, but they'd given her a healthy appreciation for the power of destroyer eyes.
"Tenryuu, no," said Solette, "I've got a lot of work to do."
"But I'm bored!" Tenryuu flopped onto her back and started making snow-angels on the floor. Or she would if there was any snow. Right now she was really just making… air… angels.
A pen clattered to the floor. And for the first time since she'd come in, Solette lifted his eyes off his work to lock with Tenryuu's. "What did you say?" said the soldier with deadly earnest.
"I'm bored?" asked Tenryuu.
"Hmm," Solette leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin.
"I'll make you a cake when we're done," said Tenryuu. The major was almost on her side. She just needed a little spice to sweeten the deal. Which in hindsight wasn't the best metaphor, since spice and sweet were normally opposites, but whatever. "Well… I'll have the girls make you one, and then I'll bring it to you."
"Tenryuu," Solette shot the cruiser a smirk, "Get my blade."
"What if she doesn't like me?" Shinano crossed her massive legs and worried the heavy canvas hem of her underskirt.
"Huh?" White leaned around Shinano's mountainous helping of rice with a spoonful of cereal firmly planted in her cheek.
"M-" Shinano shuddered to a stop and paused to collect herself. "Miss Musashi. I never met her back…" the carrier trailed off and stared down at the slowly regrowing stump of her left arm. It was almost a mockery of an arm. It was far too short and stumpy for her size, the skin was still shiny and fresh. Her hand was little more than a lopsided blob of flesh, her fingers were nubs barely the size of mosquito bites that couldn't even touch her own palm.
It was a mockery of an arm… was… was she a mockery of a Yamato?
"She's your sister," White stared at the timid Japanese girl. Then, with great pomp and somber grace, the tiny American placed her spoon back in her bowl of soggy fruit loops, clambered over the table, and hopped into Shinano's lap to give her a hug. "I'm sure she loves you."
Shinano blushed, and buried her face in White's comforting chest. She felt her glasses squish against her nose, but she didn't care. The towering support carrier just squeezed her eyes closed to hold back her brewing tears. "B-but what if she doesn't?"
"She will," White wrapped her arms around Shinano's head and hugged that part of her to. "I have forty-nine sisters. Trust me, she will."
Shinano sniffed, and tried her very best to melt into the tiny American's comforting embrace. As much as she loved Houshou's kindly wisdom, Shinano had decided that White was her real mother. The big carrier never felt quite as comfortable as she did in White's arms.
"She'll probably be proud of you, too." White gave Shinano's head a squeeze, then ran her hands though the big carrier's black ponytail. "Why don't you wear your braid anymore?" she asked, "You came back like that, and it looked really cool."
Shinano shot a puffy-eyed look up at the little escort carrier, "I… I can't do it myself. I don't know how to braid hair." She blinked, and pushed her glasses back up her nose with the stubby nubs on the end of her left arm, "Why… why do you think she'd be proud of me?"
White looked at the carrier like she'd grown a second head. Which, given the borderline magical abilities of American Damage Control, wasn't something Shinano was willing to totally rule out at this point. "You saved Japan, silly!"
Shinano blinked again. "I… I saved Tokyo, and I didn't even do that. I… I shot down a few Stukas is all." She buried her face in White's chest again. "Anyone could do that."
"Maybe," said White, "but you did do it."
Shinano whimpered in the inquisitive.
"Do you want to hear a story I heard from Enterprise?" asked White.
Shinano whimpered in the affirmative.
"Well," White settled down onto the giant carrier's lap, her stumpy legs splayed around Shinano's waist while her fingers were laced behind the towering Japanese girl's thick neck. "After Pearl, she said she'd never been quite so scared in her whole life."
"E-Enterprise was scared?"
White nodded. "She'd watched her friends die, and now she was heading far to the North. And only her Admiral seemed to know why. She told me she was terrified the whole time, even called General Quarters on nothing she was so scared."
Shinano nodded, eager for her momboat to continue the story.
"Then," said White, "Enterprise told me she saw a ship approaching her in the dawn sunlight. In the darkness, it took her a moment to recognize it as her little sister, Hornet." White slipped off Shinano's lap and settled onto the table itself. "Only Hornet had her deck bursting with bombers."
"The Tokyo raid," said Shinano. "I… I've heard of that." She blinked. "You didn't do anything."
"It doesn't matter what we did to you," said White. "What mattered is we showed ourselves we weren't out yet. Enterprise said that was the moment she started to hope again."
Shinano smiled. "I like that story," she said. "But… what does it have to do with me?"
"You took a hit," White pointed to Shinano's stumpy arm, "That would've sent Enterprise running with her tail between her legs. And you stood back up and launched a strike!" White spread her little arms wide and beamed at the support carrier, "You showed Japan that you're faithful."
"I… I guess," said Shinano. Before she could say anything more, the doors to the mess hall all but exploded off their hinges into a spray of flying wooden splinters.
Standing framed in the doorway was the sodden form of superbattleship Musashi. Her snowy white hair as damped down against her skull, and the shirt she wore draped over her shoulders was sopping wet. Salt dripped from her abbreviated skirt and poured down her chocolate skin in a thousand tiny rivulets.
She was so wet from her trip across the Pacific, the tear streaks coming off her bloodshot eyes were almost lost in the background noise. Almost. Her lips parted in a breathless word and her head pivoted over with the oiled gravity of her main battery to focus on Shinano.
And then the battleship moved. One towering heel was placed in front of the other as Musashi built up speed. The crowd parted before her like the sea itself, even the air seemed to be giving her a wide berth.
Shinano scrambled to her feet, only to wince when the bench she sat on carved a scrape along her shin. She bit back the pain and snapped her one good hand up in a proper salute. "Musashi-dono," she said. "I—"
She didn't get another word out. Musashi grabbed the carrier in a tight hug and squeezed her into her own soaking wet chest. The battleship buried her face in the carrier's neck and didn't even bother to hide the happy sobs pouring from her mouth.
Shinano froze. Her heart rate scrambled for redline and she felt her cheeks go a brilliant crimson. "Mu-musashi-dono—"
"I'm your sister." Musashi planted a wet kiss on the carrier's cheek before squeezing her even tighter. "And I love you," she panted. "So very, very much."
Shinano felt herself melt into her big sister's arms as all her worries went up like smoke. She had a sister now! A sister who didn't just tolerate her… but… but loved her! The big carrier buried her face in Muashi's soaking wet neck and cried heavy tears of joy. She couldn't remember another time she felt quite this happy.
White squealed for almost five minutes before running over to hug both girls—or at least their legs.
Shinano let a tired, sobbing laugh slip though her lips. Okay, now she couldn't remember ever being quite so happy.
—|—|—
Tenryuu—in the honest, objective, totally non-biased opinion of Tenryuu—had never looked quite as badassfuly cool. Or perhaps cooly badass. Whatever the order, the amount of both "cool" and "badass" were both hovering well north of the top of the charts.
The light cruiser had her purple-tinged hair resting in perfectly-rakish layers, her tie hung at a tastefully rebellion angle around her neck, and the sleeves of her cardigan were rolled up to the perfect action-hero level. And that's not even touching the degrees of utter refined weapons-grade cool oozing from her eyepatch and ominously glowing floaters.
Or fingerless gloves. Tenryuu didn't feel the need to any cool-sounding adjectives to her gloves. Just the mere fact that they were fingerless should be enough to convince even the most hardened doubter that they were indeed badass personified. They were even leather. Black, shiny leather. Everyone knew things are just inherently cooler when they were black leather.
But… but all of that refined badassitude that was the nameship of the Tenryuu-class of light cruiser utterly paled in comparison to the final element of cool completing her look.
The mighty sword Tenryuu had resting on her shoulder with the kind of careless ease that marks someone as a badass of the hardest core when applied to something so lethal. Well… that or an idiot, but Tenryuu was no fool.
The sword, which was forged by the greatest smiths Japan had to offer from a thousand layers of carefully chosen steel and was most certainly not bought off ebay fuck you Tatsuta for starting that rumor that is false, was called Waterline. And it had no equal.
It was so cool, in fact, that Tenryuu had to take a moment to let her giggles dissipate before she continued. Because seriously, standing with one hand on your hip and the other resting on a sword is just awesome.
But, when the cruiser had finally settled back down to her usual level of impeccable cool, she tapped the back of her hand against the door of a certain Major she'd grown fond of.
"C'min," grunted a half-interested voice muffled almost to nothing by the door.
Tenryuu huffed. She would have preferred a more dynamic greeting from her great rival in the realm of swordsmanship. Or… swordswomanship? Swords-boat ship? Whatever. It wasn't dynamic enough! Luckily, Tenryuu was a cruiser of the Japanese navy. She could make her own dynamic entries, thank you very much!
"Solette!" Tenryuu barked and sent the door flying open with a swing of her hip. "I have- OW!"
"Turn the handle," came the voice of an utterly unfazed nurse.
Tenryuu scowled and rubbed her bruised hipbone. Her entry had not gone as planned. Not gone as planned at all. Oh well, time to improvise. The cruiser turned the handle and pushed the door open just enough to disengage the latch.
"Solette!" she barked, sending the door flying with a swing of her hip. This time it worked! "I have need of your assistance!"
The major—who looked like he was fighting a loosing battle to fill out paperwork faster than it could reproduce—didn't even bother looking up from the forms he was completing. "Take a number."
Tenryuu puffed out her cheeks in a pout. A supremely badass pout, of course. Still, she would not be swayed from her chosen course. "You know," the cruiser planted a hand on her hip and threw out one leg, "I was walking the base the other day."
"If you flashed anyone, I don't want to hear about it." Solette pointed to a comically large pile of folders sitting in the remotest corner of his desk. A sticky note on the top read 'SHARPs'. Suddenly, the remoteness of the pile made sense. Solette was no doubt attempting to keep the lewdness from tainting the rest of his work.
"Major!" Tenryuu huffed, and her floaters floated in a badassfully upset manner. Her honor had been besmirched—that was a word right, besmirched?—anyway, there was an implied stain on her honor. "I would never do such a thing!"
"Mmm," Solette moved a completed form to the tiniest pile on his desk and picked a fresh form from one of the waiting piles. All without so much as glancing at the cruiser.
"It was probably Kirishima," said Tenryuu, "Or Wash."
"Makes sense," said Solette as he set to work completing this latest form.
"Anyways," Tenryuu planted her sword in the floor and used its decorated hilt as a rest for her gloved hands. Fingerless-gloved, that is. "I was walking around the base, when what should I find but!" She paused for dramatic effect. "A Nest! A Nest of feral cardboard boxes!"
Solette didn't even blink.
"Of course," Tenryuu puffed out her inexplicably—even to her—large chest and polished her fingernails on the fabric of her sweater, "I slew all the foul creatures."
"That's nice," said Solette with utter disinterest.
"Their leader was there too," Tenryuu smirked and flung a lock of hair past her patched-over eye. "A vast creature. They called him… the Box of Refrigerator."
"Uh huh."
"I slew him as well," Tenryuu laughed in a cool and badass manner. "It was a glorious battle."
"I'm sure it was."
Tenryuu knit her brows in a pout. "Of course…" she leaned over with a smirk, wood chipping as her blade bit into the floor. "I've heard tell of an even greater infestation of boxes behind the kitchens. An infestation so vast it may take two warriors to slay!"
Solette wordlessly reached for another form. "Tenryuu, I have a lot of work to do."
"Whyyyyyyyy!" Tenryuu fell to her knees, her gloved hands resting on the major's desk as she moaned in anguish. "I wanna go sword things with you!"
Solette shook his head.
"Pleaaase!" pleaded Tenryuu. She clasped her hands together and put on the wounded-puppy look she'd learned from her division mates. Riding herd on DesDiv six might be a pain in the stern sometimes, but they'd given her a healthy appreciation for the power of destroyer eyes.
"Tenryuu, no," said Solette, "I've got a lot of work to do."
"But I'm bored!" Tenryuu flopped onto her back and started making snow-angels on the floor. Or she would if there was any snow. Right now she was really just making… air… angels.
A pen clattered to the floor. And for the first time since she'd come in, Solette lifted his eyes off his work to lock with Tenryuu's. "What did you say?" said the soldier with deadly earnest.
"I'm bored?" asked Tenryuu.
"Hmm," Solette leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin.
"I'll make you a cake when we're done," said Tenryuu. The major was almost on her side. She just needed a little spice to sweeten the deal. Which in hindsight wasn't the best metaphor, since spice and sweet were normally opposites, but whatever. "Well… I'll have the girls make you one, and then I'll bring it to you."
"Tenryuu," Solette shot the cruiser a smirk, "Get my blade."
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Hoo boy.
Musashi isn't really the disdaining type. With your record, you're fine.
Now THAT is a cuddle-pile.
See? White agrees with me, and I'm pretty sure GG-Yams would too.
1. White is Momboat. Laughs aside, it just goes to show the importance a maternal figure is to some people.
2. if there's hope to strike back, to do something? People will fight.
This is the part where Yams would be bowing to Shinano. And then hugging her.
Musashi must always have an entrance as big as ego, which is as big as her tits.
The respect of the Carrier groups, a highly-decorated war record, and the love of White and Musashi.
Shinano has basically no reason to be depressed and insecure anymore.
1. I bet someone took a video of that. White has lungs.
2. See? Shinano's turning a page in her life.
Yeah. And I bet you play nothing but Reaper in Overwatch.
Real cool and badass Tenryuu.
Alleviating mutual boredom, and cake afterwards?
Careful, Jersey'll probably want in on that deal.
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
This is bad, like, we're going to be in so much trouble, bad.
I approve
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
Fletcher class. 175 strong. There is an event horizon to that cuddle pile.
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
JuliusClonkus
Scatterbrained Speculator
- Location
- Federal Reichspublic of Karlsland
There is being Navy and being bored.
And then there is being full of fairies who are Navy and are bored individually as well as collectively.
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Best part of this? Jersey is White's Momboat. Shinano is Mushi's sister. What does this mean. Mushi is Jersey's Grandaughterboat.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
... I will pay someone in the biggest, uncut Dust crystal they've ever seen to go and call Jersey a grandma.
JuliusClonkus
Scatterbrained Speculator
- Location
- Federal Reichspublic of Karlsland
No deal, Weiss. I have no need for Dust when Jersey renders me into lowercase variant of the word.... I will pay someone in the biggest, uncut Dust crystal they've ever seen to go and call Jersey a grandma.
Spectre
eternal servant to the Fire/EMS gods
- Location
- NY
Hey Jersey, Your a grandma now.... I will pay someone in the biggest, uncut Dust crystal they've ever seen to go and call Jersey a grandma.
