CompassJimbo
Where’s Your North?
- Location
- The former Rubber Capital of the World
Even I, who hasn't really paid much heed to Pokèmon, found myself humming the tune as well.
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
Wow. Shipgirls could troll Pokemon players so hard by spawning capture points in the middle of large rivers, lakes, and on the ocean.
Christmas Special (part 2)
- Location
- 'Murica
Yeoman Sarah Gale scowled at her own reflection and tried to will her cheeks to loose their rosy-red blush. She could still hear Wash and her mother going at it. Up until a few hours ago, the idea of Wash proclaiming loudly and at great length how beautiful she found her ass was among the sailor's most precious fantasies.
Now it was turning into her nightmare. Well… a pleasant sort of nightmare. On side-effect of Wash's infamous social ignorance was her utter inability to lie convincingly. Every word she said about the curviness of Gale's ass, or how she filled out her fatigues just so, or how every time the battleship saw Gale's perky butt swish by it doubled her resolve was the truth. Wash meant every word.
But still…
Her mother just had to go and ruin everything. Gale would be mad if she didn't have an even more pressing problem do deal with. A problem she hoped was just a figment of her imagination, but she'd learned never to assume anything when it came to shipgirls.
"Vestal?" Gale cradled her phone against her ear and waited for the cranky old repair ship to pick up.
"If you're drunk," came a raspy accent clipped to prickly precision by Gale's phone's tinny speaker, "It's your own damn fault."
"No," Gale bit her lip and shook her head. "Vestal, it's me. Gale."
There was a pause. Then Vestal took a deep breath and blew into her phone. Gale assumed the old auxiliary was smoking that grungy pipe of hers again. "Gale. Nice to hear from ya," she said, all trace of medical frustration gone from her suddenly-cheery voice. "Merry Christmas."
Gale smiled, "Merry Christmas, Vestal. I, uh… I have a question for you."
"Mmm," Vestal grunted for Gale to continue.
The sailor froze. She knew what she wanted to ask. Hell, she knew what the answer was probably going to be. But… going so far as to actually voice it was… It was like a dream come true, but it still tied her belly up into knots. "Uh…" Gale shook her head and forced herself to just plow right in. "Can Wash have my babies?"
The line went silent for what felt like hours. Gale prayed that the repairship was just awestruck that she'd ask such a silly question. Of course Wash couldn't carry her children, they were both women! Shipgirl or not, that just couldn't be—
"Yeah," said Vestal.
Gale blinked. "Wait, what?"
"Wash can have your babies," said the repair ship. "We're magic like that."
Gale blinked again. "W-what?"
"Can't promise you wouldn't end up pregnant too, though," said Vestal with a chuckle.
"Vestal!" Gale clutched the phone to her jaw. "Please tell me you're joking."
"I am," said Vestal. "'bout her putting a bun in your oven. That I'm not sure about."
Gale was speechless. She figured she should be horrified right now, but all she could think about was Wash cradling a little bump around her middle, and that thought made her really happy. Happier than she thought possible.
"I could send you some books if you'd like," said the repair ship.
"Uh…" Gale smiled inspite of herself. "That… that'd be nice."
"And just so you know," Vestal was starting to chuckle herself. "The Major might be army, but he's good people. We're both here for ya, Gale."
"Thanks Vestal," Gale's cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much. But she honestly didn't care at this point. "Merry christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Gale."
The sailor slipped her phone back into her pocket and opened the bathroom door. And almost ran squarely in to the generous bosom of the most beautiful battleship she'd ever laid eyes on. A battleship who might, if all went well, be carrying her children before too long. A day ago, Gale would have banished the thought in an instant. Things like that didn't happen to her.
But they had. And she couldn't express her joy.
"Wash, what are you…" Gale trailed off when she noticed what was in the battleship's raised hand. A single sprig of mistletoe.
"Sarah," Wash smiled. "I—" Before she could say another word, the sailor fainted right into her chest.
Gale's mother pounced around the corner and snapped a picture with her smartphone. "Close enough!"
The floor had all but vanished under a frenzied strewing of shredded wrapping paper and frantically opened boxes, not to mention a bunch of pajama-clad shipgirls happily playing with their new toys.
The air was thick with Christmas carols—that Texas' lazy drawl occasionally joined in with—and the sent of warm cream-cheese drizzled pastries filled the room. Texas had gone out of her way to make sure each and every person on the base had their fill of her delicious cooking.
Honestly, Atago could not overstate how delicious the old battlewagon's cooking was. She'd been stationed in the American South for almost a year, and not a day went by that some kindly old woman insisted on feeding her some new and delicious delicacy. But Texas' cooking topped them all.
And the battleship—despite all Atago's protesting panpakapans—had insisted that the cruiser needed some "meat on her bones" and kept feeding Atago until her coat barely fit anymore. Even Alaska had developed a small, but noticeable bit of pudge around her otherwise chiseled middle by the time the battleship was done with her.
Texas was apparently still darting around base as fast as her tired old VTEs would take her, handing out leftovers to everyone she considered improperly pampered. Meanwhile, the younger girls were happily playing with their toys.
Alaska had followed the cruiser's advice, and bought the three Kagerous legos for Christmas. Lots of Legos. Atago had also bought the girls Legos, so they were practically drowning in the stuff. Legos were strewn over the floor in a vast sea of tiny plastic pieces that the three destroyers were slowly cobbling together creations from. Even Texas' baking hadn't torn them away from their play for more than a few minutes.
Alaska, meanwhile, had gotten a more modest haul. Not that the quiet American seemed to mind. She actually seemed more upset that her own gifts were taking attention away from the destroyers mounting excitement with each box they tore open, but that was Alaska for you.
The big cruiser had gotten the latest couple of books in the Changing Destiny series from Nachi, a big bag of Eskimo pies from the destroyers that Atago had rushed off to the freezer, all seven Star Wars movies on Blu-ray from Texas, and a few hot-wheels cars from Atago.
Alaska was playing with the hot-wheels at the moment, surprising absolutely no-one. The snowy-haired cruiser wore a smile of utter bliss as she sat splayed-out in her pajamas, gently pushing the cars back and forth on the carpet while making little "BrrrrBrrr" noises.
"'Laska?" Atago smirked and fished one last gift from under the tree. A gift she'd gone out of her way to hide until now.
"Brrrbrbr?" Alaska made confused car-engine noises and glanced up at her blonde best friend.
"I think you forgot something," Atago tossed the little package over to her waiting friend.
"What?" Alaska's face morphed into a slightly more confused version of her usual blissful bewilderment as she turned the little bundle of wrapping paper over in her fingers. "'tago, you didn't. I already got so mu-"
"This isn't from me," said Atago with a wink. "I'm just the messenger."
"You mean…" Alaska clutched the package to her chest, "Santa?"
Atago shook her head. "Someone a little closer to home, 'laska."
The big American blinked. And then her chest started heaving as she hyperventilated in place. "Is— Is—"
"Open it," giggled Atago. She honestly didn't know what the gift was. But she did know who it was from. "And read the card first."
Alaska shredded the paper in a flurry of swinging hands and nervous panting. The cruiser was barely in control of her own body at the best of times, and her excitement was only exacerbating the problem. But eventually, she was able to fish the card out from the shredded debris that was once it's envelope.
"Dear Alaska," she read. "We just got these in, thought you'd like them. Merry Christmas. Cameron." The big cruiser blinked.
"That's him, isn't it?" said Atago with a smile. "That's your boy?"
Alaska nodded furiously, but all that escaped her lips was a squeal of utter joy.
"What's in the box?" asked Atago, eager to know what her best-friend's would-be lover thought was a suitable Christmas present.
Alaska tore open the box and dumped it onto the floor. Inside was a little hot-wheels card, but this time it wasn't a car. It was a ship. An exact die-cast replica of the blushing Large Cruiser herself.
Atago hastily buttoned her blouse all the way to the top.
"Eeeeeee!" Alaska squealed in happiness and hugged the toy to her nonexistant bosom.
"There's a note too," Hamakaze glanced up from her Legos just long enough to fish a tiny folded scrap of paper from the detritus. Her eyes flew over the paper as she drank in the words. Then she too let out a happy squeal. "LASKA!"
"Hmm?" The big cruiser shook herself out of her glee-induced stupor just long enough to answer the cry of her little destroyer friend.
"It's Cameron!" Hamakaze thrust the paper under Alaska's slender nose, "He wants to ask you on a date!"
Now it was turning into her nightmare. Well… a pleasant sort of nightmare. On side-effect of Wash's infamous social ignorance was her utter inability to lie convincingly. Every word she said about the curviness of Gale's ass, or how she filled out her fatigues just so, or how every time the battleship saw Gale's perky butt swish by it doubled her resolve was the truth. Wash meant every word.
But still…
Her mother just had to go and ruin everything. Gale would be mad if she didn't have an even more pressing problem do deal with. A problem she hoped was just a figment of her imagination, but she'd learned never to assume anything when it came to shipgirls.
"Vestal?" Gale cradled her phone against her ear and waited for the cranky old repair ship to pick up.
"If you're drunk," came a raspy accent clipped to prickly precision by Gale's phone's tinny speaker, "It's your own damn fault."
"No," Gale bit her lip and shook her head. "Vestal, it's me. Gale."
There was a pause. Then Vestal took a deep breath and blew into her phone. Gale assumed the old auxiliary was smoking that grungy pipe of hers again. "Gale. Nice to hear from ya," she said, all trace of medical frustration gone from her suddenly-cheery voice. "Merry Christmas."
Gale smiled, "Merry Christmas, Vestal. I, uh… I have a question for you."
"Mmm," Vestal grunted for Gale to continue.
The sailor froze. She knew what she wanted to ask. Hell, she knew what the answer was probably going to be. But… going so far as to actually voice it was… It was like a dream come true, but it still tied her belly up into knots. "Uh…" Gale shook her head and forced herself to just plow right in. "Can Wash have my babies?"
The line went silent for what felt like hours. Gale prayed that the repairship was just awestruck that she'd ask such a silly question. Of course Wash couldn't carry her children, they were both women! Shipgirl or not, that just couldn't be—
"Yeah," said Vestal.
Gale blinked. "Wait, what?"
"Wash can have your babies," said the repair ship. "We're magic like that."
Gale blinked again. "W-what?"
"Can't promise you wouldn't end up pregnant too, though," said Vestal with a chuckle.
"Vestal!" Gale clutched the phone to her jaw. "Please tell me you're joking."
"I am," said Vestal. "'bout her putting a bun in your oven. That I'm not sure about."
Gale was speechless. She figured she should be horrified right now, but all she could think about was Wash cradling a little bump around her middle, and that thought made her really happy. Happier than she thought possible.
"I could send you some books if you'd like," said the repair ship.
"Uh…" Gale smiled inspite of herself. "That… that'd be nice."
"And just so you know," Vestal was starting to chuckle herself. "The Major might be army, but he's good people. We're both here for ya, Gale."
"Thanks Vestal," Gale's cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much. But she honestly didn't care at this point. "Merry christmas!"
"Merry Christmas, Gale."
The sailor slipped her phone back into her pocket and opened the bathroom door. And almost ran squarely in to the generous bosom of the most beautiful battleship she'd ever laid eyes on. A battleship who might, if all went well, be carrying her children before too long. A day ago, Gale would have banished the thought in an instant. Things like that didn't happen to her.
But they had. And she couldn't express her joy.
"Wash, what are you…" Gale trailed off when she noticed what was in the battleship's raised hand. A single sprig of mistletoe.
"Sarah," Wash smiled. "I—" Before she could say another word, the sailor fainted right into her chest.
Gale's mother pounced around the corner and snapped a picture with her smartphone. "Close enough!"
—|—|—
The Gulf-coast defense command's shipgirl common room was what could be considered a disaster area. The tree was still standing—barely and at an odd angle that threatened to fall over at any minute, but standing—but that was all that could be said about it.The floor had all but vanished under a frenzied strewing of shredded wrapping paper and frantically opened boxes, not to mention a bunch of pajama-clad shipgirls happily playing with their new toys.
The air was thick with Christmas carols—that Texas' lazy drawl occasionally joined in with—and the sent of warm cream-cheese drizzled pastries filled the room. Texas had gone out of her way to make sure each and every person on the base had their fill of her delicious cooking.
Honestly, Atago could not overstate how delicious the old battlewagon's cooking was. She'd been stationed in the American South for almost a year, and not a day went by that some kindly old woman insisted on feeding her some new and delicious delicacy. But Texas' cooking topped them all.
And the battleship—despite all Atago's protesting panpakapans—had insisted that the cruiser needed some "meat on her bones" and kept feeding Atago until her coat barely fit anymore. Even Alaska had developed a small, but noticeable bit of pudge around her otherwise chiseled middle by the time the battleship was done with her.
Texas was apparently still darting around base as fast as her tired old VTEs would take her, handing out leftovers to everyone she considered improperly pampered. Meanwhile, the younger girls were happily playing with their toys.
Alaska had followed the cruiser's advice, and bought the three Kagerous legos for Christmas. Lots of Legos. Atago had also bought the girls Legos, so they were practically drowning in the stuff. Legos were strewn over the floor in a vast sea of tiny plastic pieces that the three destroyers were slowly cobbling together creations from. Even Texas' baking hadn't torn them away from their play for more than a few minutes.
Alaska, meanwhile, had gotten a more modest haul. Not that the quiet American seemed to mind. She actually seemed more upset that her own gifts were taking attention away from the destroyers mounting excitement with each box they tore open, but that was Alaska for you.
The big cruiser had gotten the latest couple of books in the Changing Destiny series from Nachi, a big bag of Eskimo pies from the destroyers that Atago had rushed off to the freezer, all seven Star Wars movies on Blu-ray from Texas, and a few hot-wheels cars from Atago.
Alaska was playing with the hot-wheels at the moment, surprising absolutely no-one. The snowy-haired cruiser wore a smile of utter bliss as she sat splayed-out in her pajamas, gently pushing the cars back and forth on the carpet while making little "BrrrrBrrr" noises.
"'Laska?" Atago smirked and fished one last gift from under the tree. A gift she'd gone out of her way to hide until now.
"Brrrbrbr?" Alaska made confused car-engine noises and glanced up at her blonde best friend.
"I think you forgot something," Atago tossed the little package over to her waiting friend.
"What?" Alaska's face morphed into a slightly more confused version of her usual blissful bewilderment as she turned the little bundle of wrapping paper over in her fingers. "'tago, you didn't. I already got so mu-"
"This isn't from me," said Atago with a wink. "I'm just the messenger."
"You mean…" Alaska clutched the package to her chest, "Santa?"
Atago shook her head. "Someone a little closer to home, 'laska."
The big American blinked. And then her chest started heaving as she hyperventilated in place. "Is— Is—"
"Open it," giggled Atago. She honestly didn't know what the gift was. But she did know who it was from. "And read the card first."
Alaska shredded the paper in a flurry of swinging hands and nervous panting. The cruiser was barely in control of her own body at the best of times, and her excitement was only exacerbating the problem. But eventually, she was able to fish the card out from the shredded debris that was once it's envelope.
"Dear Alaska," she read. "We just got these in, thought you'd like them. Merry Christmas. Cameron." The big cruiser blinked.
"That's him, isn't it?" said Atago with a smile. "That's your boy?"
Alaska nodded furiously, but all that escaped her lips was a squeal of utter joy.
"What's in the box?" asked Atago, eager to know what her best-friend's would-be lover thought was a suitable Christmas present.
Alaska tore open the box and dumped it onto the floor. Inside was a little hot-wheels card, but this time it wasn't a car. It was a ship. An exact die-cast replica of the blushing Large Cruiser herself.
Atago hastily buttoned her blouse all the way to the top.
"Eeeeeee!" Alaska squealed in happiness and hugged the toy to her nonexistant bosom.
"There's a note too," Hamakaze glanced up from her Legos just long enough to fish a tiny folded scrap of paper from the detritus. Her eyes flew over the paper as she drank in the words. Then she too let out a happy squeal. "LASKA!"
"Hmm?" The big cruiser shook herself out of her glee-induced stupor just long enough to answer the cry of her little destroyer friend.
"It's Cameron!" Hamakaze thrust the paper under Alaska's slender nose, "He wants to ask you on a date!"
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Sexy coworkers=morale boost.
Figures.
1. Hoo boy.
2. And that is how Gale died: Suffocating on Christmas in her love's tits.
3. We need fanart of that image.
Oh Alaska, you're such a child.
Wait, giving a model=wanting babies, so...
A date with the intention of procreative sex. That is, it's the intent the shipgirls should be reading into it.
Oh good lord, this is going to go horribly.
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
[has currently chained himself to the deck of the USS Atago/Alaska]
*glubglubglubglub*!
Fear not! Ships may sink, but they can rise again, too.
PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
If the shipgirl gives you a model of herself, it means she wants your babies. A human giving a shipgirl a model of herself is a gift, if a bit of a personal one.
See, if 'Laska gives Cameron a model of herself, she's saying "I wants you to play with mah body".
Cameron giving 'Laska a model of herself is akin to him gifting a human girl a portrait of herself. While a little weird for "first date" gifts, it somehow fits Alaska. Maybe because it's him saying "I admire your beauty such that I went to the effort of replicating it."
Plus, Alaska is enough of a dork that I don't think she'd quite get the message otherwise.
*snicker*
Seems Atago has decided the only way to keep her fairies from stuffing things down her bosom is to prevent access.
CompassJimbo
Where’s Your North?
- Location
- The former Rubber Capital of the World
Somewhere Kongou is about to move her timetables up given that we may or may not see at least one wartime pregnancy at this rate.
- Location
- State of Denial
I'm pretty sure Alaska has never been more adorable.
- Location
- Pacific Northwest
Reminds me of Spec Forces guys giving girlfriends/wives a green beret with the unit flash and the SF pin
It's a damn catchy tune, after all. One of the last great American TV theme songs before the Search for More Money resulted in the death of title sequences and closing credits...
- Location
- United States
Oh, 'Laska. I really want to know more about this.
I like the implications that Atago is trying to prevent her fairies from stealing the new Hot-Propeller Bote and stuffing it in her cleavage like a number of 'Laska's cars.
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
What was the point of quoting me there?
Anywho, this latest chapter has been amalgamated and put up on FFN now. Also JMPer, you need to threadmark the second part of the fairy-napper omake.
- Location
- United States
To point out you might not be entirely sunk.
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
Not sure how that works out given what the joke is about, unless your saying that Atago's fairies are a bunch of shippers on her deck.
- Location
- United States
'Laska's fairies as well with their demands to motorboat 'Tago. I mean, why else would Atago's fairoes be stuffing 'Laska's Hot-Wheels in Atago's cleavage when it's one of the first places the large cruiser looks?
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
I like the way you think.
- Location
- Pacific NW
To be honest I was half expecting a Christmas accidental summoning. Suddenly CC Sara appears in the fireplace or something like that.
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- Location
- State of Denial
USS Nicholas gets summoned halfway up the chimney, then falls through to the fireplace with no idea what's going on.
- Location
- 'Murica
I actually have one more part to get done, but it ties back into the story as a whole,so I wanted to take my time. (Also, I wanted to celebrate instead of write for ya'll.)
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
- Location
- Pacific NW
I thought that the second part was the end actually. And hope your x-mas was to every expectation and standard.
- Location
- 'Murica
It was, thank you!
And I should hope you noticed that whatever Jersey asked the subs for help with wasn't followed up on (yet).
- Location
- Pacific NW
Ahhh. I did miss it. But then I was enjoying the bliss that is paprika flavored Pringles. (Seriously the best flavor and it is not available in stores in the US. Grr.)
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
... You know, for a moment there I thought you meant Prinz Eugen because of that stupid nickname and I was royally confused.