Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
- Location
- Pacific NW
Just think if she hadn't been used as a target ship and instead parked as a war trophy/museum. Some clever thematic advertising and watch the cash roll for museum maintenance. 
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
I wouldn't say nothing, Frisco. After all, now it means you have a Prinz naked and covered in paprika powder. Have a fun New Years!
Although I just realized, if Prinz is currently in Japan... this is an opportunity for her to have a reunion with Nagato and Sakawa.
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PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
Y'know, Frisco. 'M a little surprised you did that. I would have totally expected one of the destroyers to try it.
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
And the news goes nuts about people fighting in the streets over pudding.
Prinz, nude and paprika dusted or not, is love.
Oh, I would love to have had the chance to see her. Heck, imagine the museum you could make out of even half of those ships. Just one massive museum complex with the Crossroads Crew.Just think if she hadn't been used as a target ship and instead parked as a war trophy/museum. Some clever thematic advertising and watch the cash roll for museum maintenance.
I'm not surprised actually. XD
And very, very belated Merry Christmas to you all from myself and the entire cast of A Certain Lady! And have a Happy New Year!
Gearhead
Who, me?
My one regret about the Prinz figma preorder is that I did not find out she was being made until after I missed the window to get her extra 'turbo smile mode' faceplate.
Ah well, maybe I'll get lucky and Amazon will randomly drop one with the plate in my lap when they get to this shore in March (probably not).
- Location
- 'Murica
Lou: That's not a turbo-smile, that's just what her face looks like.My one regret about the Prinz figma preorder is that I did not find out she was being made until after I missed the window to get her extra 'turbo smile mode' faceplate.
Ah well, maybe I'll get lucky and Amazon will randomly drop one with the plate in my lap when they get to this shore in March (probably not).
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
That smile is all but blinding.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I got Pecan Pie Pringles. They taste like unsalted chips and maple syrup
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Frisco: *Blinks and then holds up a pecan pie*
Eugen: 0///0
- Location
- Pacific NW
Now the Pecan Pie flavored M&Ms that came out around Thanksgiving were freaking amazing good.
Christmas Special (finale)
- Location
- 'Murica
Musashi was uncharacteristically quiet as she soullessly ate her lukewarm soup. Each spoonful came slowly and mechanically to the big battleship, driven more by muscle memory than any conscious desire to eat. Even the grumpy rumble coming from her bare midsection barely roused the battleship out of her melancholy—although it did earn a few confused/envious glances from a passing destroyer puddle.
Musashi thought she was just having fun, so what if she hadn't actually bedded the mighty black dragon. A little white lie never hurt anyone, right? After all, her entire existance—along with her beloved big sister—was a lie. The super-battleships were built under the cover of literal covers, canvas sheets tied up to hide their half-finished hulls.
And then Goto dragged her into his office with the American Amazon in tow. Musashi wouldn't have minded a stern dressing-down from her Admiral—or even a stern "dressing down"—as long as she was alone. She wasn't shy to admit she loved the towering American like a sister. And watching her get her magnificent American ass chewed out for something that was, essentially, Musashi's fault made the big Japanese battlewagon furious.
She resolved to never again hurt one of her friends like that. She only hoped Jersey meant it when she said there were no hard feelings.
But before the battleship could ponder her future any longer, the mess hall doors exploded open off their hinges and smashed back against pathetically overworked stops. Before the dust had even settled, a very familiar dusky contralto belted out, "HO! HO! HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS, MOTHERFUCKERS!"
Musashi blinked. "It's the twenty-sixth," said the battleship with uncharacteristic calm.
"I'm sorry," thundered Jersey, "I can't hear you over the sound of all these PRESENTS!"
Musashi wheeled around in her chair, mouth open to snap back a cutting retort at the American's infuriating tendency to answer anything and everything with some variation of that phrase. But her voice died in her throat, and several signalmen fell at their posts from excessive nose-bleeds when the big battleship realized what Jersey was wearing.
A fur-trimmed red microskirt that could've passed for one of Nagato's hung off the Amazonian American's broad hips, kept decent only by frantic work by Jersey's usual skintight undershorts. A knotted red shirt strained over breasts suddenly uncompressed by her usual sports bra, and the battleship's chiseled belly was on full display. Her hair was even braided though with sprigs of mistletoe and holly, and a titanic bag that was far to heavy for any mere human to lift was slung over one muscled shoulder.
She even had a pair of little bells and an even litter wreath hanging off the knot struggling to keep her overstuffed top together.
"Sorry," one of the two American submarines that kept popping up everywhere ducked around one of Jersey's hypnotic hips. "It was the best we could do on short notice."
"Yeah," another sub popped up from being Jersey's other, equally entrancing hip. "She's kinda large."
"Fuck both of you," Jersey shook her hips first one way then the other, giving each little submarine a gentle bump right in the face. Musashi had never been so jealous of a submarine before. "I look fucking hawt!"
Musashi didn't dare respond. Even if she could coax a sound of out her voice box, she was certain it'd just be drool-filled gibbering.
"Now," Jersey scowled and tugged at her straining top, somehow managing to avoid flashing anyone in the room—although Musashi had seen less daring outfits when she looked in the mirror. "Who wants presents?"
Every destroyer's hand shot up, and the heavier ships were behind only because their bigger turbines took longer to spin up.
Jersey beamed, and trotted over to the nearest gaggle of happy young destroyers. "And put on some fucking Christmas music for secnav's sake!"
Right on cue, one of the submarines suddenly appeared near the PA system, and plugged an ipod into the jack. Instantly the room was awash with Naka's latest Christmas album.
"Ha!" Jersey cackled as she handed out plushies and warm hugs to a gaggle of Special-types. "The traffic cone can sing, can't she?"
Naka stared blankly at the battleship, clearly bracing herself for some snarky put-down that never came.
"You sing weird-ass Jap shit," Jersey smiled and ruffled the cruiser's buns. "But motherfucker do you sing it well." The battleship slipped something into the cruiser's hands. Musashi was too far away to see exactly what it was. It looked like just a scrap of paper, but the way Naka laughed and hugged the giant battleship made Musashi think it was something more.
"And you," Jersey rounded on Shinano, who was trying her very best to hide her titanic bulk behind White's minute frame. "Flat-a-yam. You ever fucking seen Ess-Bee-Why?"
The carrier shivered a catatonic negative.
"It's fucking awesome." Jersey fished a blu-ray box-set from her enormous sack and handed it to the littlest Yamato.
She didn't even need to offer a hug, because Shinano leaped into the battleship's arms and squeezed her tight. "Thank you, mama!"
Jersey blushed, and hugged the carrier back with equal measures awkwardness and enthusiasm.
And then it was Musashi's turn to reap the benefits of being friends with an American come Christmas time. The middle Yamato settled back in her chair, a giddy smile plastered on her chocolate face as the towering American sashayed over. "What's gotten into you, Jersey?"
Jersey shrugged. "It's Christmas and I'm an officer."
"What's your rank have to do with anything," said Musashi. She tried not to leer at the American's rippling belly. But… it was hard. She'd never seen a warship with quite so much power.
"I'm supposed to look out for my girls," said Jersey. "Be a gentleman and shit."
"You?" Musashi laughed. "A gentleman."
"You shut your whore mouth," Jersey grabbed an empty glass and chucked it at the laughing battleship. "Besides, I got shit for you too."
"You do?" Musashi leaned forward in anticipation.
Jersey grunted and pulled an enormous, still-steaming apple pie from her sack. "Baked it myself."
Musashi was drooling just looking at it. The smell was overpowering already, and the air was suddenly so sweet she could taste it. "T-thank you."
Jersey smiled and ruffled the battleship's snowy hair-tufts. "Merry Christmas, Mushi."
Musashi thought she was just having fun, so what if she hadn't actually bedded the mighty black dragon. A little white lie never hurt anyone, right? After all, her entire existance—along with her beloved big sister—was a lie. The super-battleships were built under the cover of literal covers, canvas sheets tied up to hide their half-finished hulls.
And then Goto dragged her into his office with the American Amazon in tow. Musashi wouldn't have minded a stern dressing-down from her Admiral—or even a stern "dressing down"—as long as she was alone. She wasn't shy to admit she loved the towering American like a sister. And watching her get her magnificent American ass chewed out for something that was, essentially, Musashi's fault made the big Japanese battlewagon furious.
She resolved to never again hurt one of her friends like that. She only hoped Jersey meant it when she said there were no hard feelings.
But before the battleship could ponder her future any longer, the mess hall doors exploded open off their hinges and smashed back against pathetically overworked stops. Before the dust had even settled, a very familiar dusky contralto belted out, "HO! HO! HO! MERRY CHRISTMAS, MOTHERFUCKERS!"
Musashi blinked. "It's the twenty-sixth," said the battleship with uncharacteristic calm.
"I'm sorry," thundered Jersey, "I can't hear you over the sound of all these PRESENTS!"
Musashi wheeled around in her chair, mouth open to snap back a cutting retort at the American's infuriating tendency to answer anything and everything with some variation of that phrase. But her voice died in her throat, and several signalmen fell at their posts from excessive nose-bleeds when the big battleship realized what Jersey was wearing.
A fur-trimmed red microskirt that could've passed for one of Nagato's hung off the Amazonian American's broad hips, kept decent only by frantic work by Jersey's usual skintight undershorts. A knotted red shirt strained over breasts suddenly uncompressed by her usual sports bra, and the battleship's chiseled belly was on full display. Her hair was even braided though with sprigs of mistletoe and holly, and a titanic bag that was far to heavy for any mere human to lift was slung over one muscled shoulder.
She even had a pair of little bells and an even litter wreath hanging off the knot struggling to keep her overstuffed top together.
"Sorry," one of the two American submarines that kept popping up everywhere ducked around one of Jersey's hypnotic hips. "It was the best we could do on short notice."
"Yeah," another sub popped up from being Jersey's other, equally entrancing hip. "She's kinda large."
"Fuck both of you," Jersey shook her hips first one way then the other, giving each little submarine a gentle bump right in the face. Musashi had never been so jealous of a submarine before. "I look fucking hawt!"
Musashi didn't dare respond. Even if she could coax a sound of out her voice box, she was certain it'd just be drool-filled gibbering.
"Now," Jersey scowled and tugged at her straining top, somehow managing to avoid flashing anyone in the room—although Musashi had seen less daring outfits when she looked in the mirror. "Who wants presents?"
Every destroyer's hand shot up, and the heavier ships were behind only because their bigger turbines took longer to spin up.
Jersey beamed, and trotted over to the nearest gaggle of happy young destroyers. "And put on some fucking Christmas music for secnav's sake!"
Right on cue, one of the submarines suddenly appeared near the PA system, and plugged an ipod into the jack. Instantly the room was awash with Naka's latest Christmas album.
"Ha!" Jersey cackled as she handed out plushies and warm hugs to a gaggle of Special-types. "The traffic cone can sing, can't she?"
Naka stared blankly at the battleship, clearly bracing herself for some snarky put-down that never came.
"You sing weird-ass Jap shit," Jersey smiled and ruffled the cruiser's buns. "But motherfucker do you sing it well." The battleship slipped something into the cruiser's hands. Musashi was too far away to see exactly what it was. It looked like just a scrap of paper, but the way Naka laughed and hugged the giant battleship made Musashi think it was something more.
"And you," Jersey rounded on Shinano, who was trying her very best to hide her titanic bulk behind White's minute frame. "Flat-a-yam. You ever fucking seen Ess-Bee-Why?"
The carrier shivered a catatonic negative.
"It's fucking awesome." Jersey fished a blu-ray box-set from her enormous sack and handed it to the littlest Yamato.
She didn't even need to offer a hug, because Shinano leaped into the battleship's arms and squeezed her tight. "Thank you, mama!"
Jersey blushed, and hugged the carrier back with equal measures awkwardness and enthusiasm.
And then it was Musashi's turn to reap the benefits of being friends with an American come Christmas time. The middle Yamato settled back in her chair, a giddy smile plastered on her chocolate face as the towering American sashayed over. "What's gotten into you, Jersey?"
Jersey shrugged. "It's Christmas and I'm an officer."
"What's your rank have to do with anything," said Musashi. She tried not to leer at the American's rippling belly. But… it was hard. She'd never seen a warship with quite so much power.
"I'm supposed to look out for my girls," said Jersey. "Be a gentleman and shit."
"You?" Musashi laughed. "A gentleman."
"You shut your whore mouth," Jersey grabbed an empty glass and chucked it at the laughing battleship. "Besides, I got shit for you too."
"You do?" Musashi leaned forward in anticipation.
Jersey grunted and pulled an enormous, still-steaming apple pie from her sack. "Baked it myself."
Musashi was drooling just looking at it. The smell was overpowering already, and the air was suddenly so sweet she could taste it. "T-thank you."
Jersey smiled and ruffled the battleship's snowy hair-tufts. "Merry Christmas, Mushi."
Lady Darkhound
Haha, tanks!
- Location
- My very own personal hell
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Well, I never expected Jersey to like Space Battleship Yamato, but I can see it being a thing now that I think about it.
- Location
- 'Murica
It's not so much that she likes it, as that she knows Shina will.
Lady Darkhound
Haha, tanks!
- Location
- My very own personal hell
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Thinking on the subject a bit more, Jersey would probably like Star Blazers more. Same show, but Americanized
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
... I now wonder about Jersey would think of Robotech (because 'Murica). Especially the bit about punching a warship in the face with an Aircraft Carrier.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
I wanna know how Jersey will react to the fact that the US and Japan have engaged in Mecha fights. I was part of that Kickstarter.
Stahor
BookWorm
- Location
- Russia, Moscow
- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
Musashi: "Can I take back the 'not really slept with' part and try again? Because dayyyyyum... I want to lesbian her so hard."
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
While Gale's suffering has not ceased, and there is the huge noncom/officer issue looming like a flyswatter for her... it is at least conceivable that Gale's life may involve less suffering at some point in the foreseeable future.
It would appear that the resulting surplus of homeless suffering has made its way to Musashi.
It would appear that the resulting surplus of homeless suffering has made its way to Musashi.
PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
While Gale's suffering has not ceased, and there is the huge noncom/officer issue looming like a flyswatter for her... it is at least conceivable that Gale's life may involve less suffering at some point in the foreseeable future.
It would appear that the resulting surplus of homeless suffering has made its way to Musashi.
Gale's suffering has been decreased for the sake of Christmas. It is the one thing that can temporarily make Being Gale Not Completely Suffering.