obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
The Shinamis intensifies...
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
The Shinamis intensifies...
Tiypo
Forever Phone Posting
I wish I could refute WoWS being a time sink, but those monthly missions...
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Well, yes. But we can imagine a situation where Gale's life becomes only 80% suffering and Musashi's becomes 60% suffering, which adds up to 100% because Pythagorean Theorem.
- Location
- Canada
Gale has nothing to worry about. Any attempt to get between or punish them means getting in Wash's way. That is not a safe place to stand no matter how polite she is the other 99% of the time.
And god help them if it gets back to Gale's mom because shell come down and give them a talking to. Ever see a Admiral get their ears pulled while being chews out by a old lady? You will. O_O
Last edited:
Omake: Fairy-napping
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
Fairy-napping III
**Several months earlier, August, 2015**
**
The eternal quiet was disturbed by martial music.
I served already. Leave me alone.
It wasn't the first time her slumber had been interrupted.
It also wasn't the first time she had ignored it.
Behind the music, she could taste/sense what was wanted. Help to wage war.
This was something she had no interest in. War, from her perspective, had no winners.
Despite that, she had served in war, and could not ignore the call completely. The music would rouse her again. And she would refuse, again.
If she knew how to move to a quieter place she would, but movement was foreign to her current state.
Suddenly, there was something new.
A sudden shock of pain as the music stopped. Fear. Even a sense of death.
Pain, fear, and death were not strangers.
Pain, fear, and death were her enemies. Enemies she would answer a call to fight.
But, there was no more calling. Only pain and panic.
Of course, now that I am willing, I cannot-
The thought was left incomplete. The negative emotions that energized her had not abated. They had, in fact, grown worse, but there were now very powerful calls for help spiking through the pain, fear, and death.
Using a part of herself that she couldn't begin to define, she reached out to those sources of pain and fear who were asking for help.
As she started to draw herself out of the stillness, she heard a chorus of tiny minds, somehow a part of her, but at the same time not. The chorus was hundreds of voices, each weak, but together they made themselves heard powerfully.
Bring us. We can help.
These parts of her were both welcome, and not. They did not share all of her values. But they wanted to help, and she knew them to be truthful.
You will obey me, if you join me.
The chorus did not even hesitate before agreeing. Of course.
Then you are welcome. Join me.
There was a brief moment of confusion, almost dizziness, and then she felt stable once more.
Again, she reached out that undefinable part of herself, and anchored herself to the pain, suffering and death, using the powerful requests for help and succor to draw her free of the nothingness.
She emerged into chaos.
**
Immediately after she opened her eyes, a large wooden beam fell across her right shoulder.
The beam was on fire. It was at least ten feet long, and as thick as a man's thigh.
She barely felt it as the beam snapped from the impact.
The fire, however, was a different matter. Several coals and embers had fallen into her hair and clothing, and started to smolder.
Even as she shoved the burning chunk of wood into the water beside her, crews already prepared for action leapt to duty stations. Pumps were primed. Hoses were pulled from storage. Coals and embers were washed overboard. Within seconds the fires were extinguished.
She looked around her, trying to get her bearings. Attempting to see who needed help, and where she was needed most.
When she looked down, she noticed that she was standing on water. Not in water. The water was shallow, but she was riding on top of the waves.
Being on top of the water wasn't particularly strange, but what she could see of herself was.
I'm a person?
Shaking her head, she tried to dismiss the confusion..
It doesn't matter what I am, only what I do.
Looking around, she saw several long lines of wooden posts driven into the sand and rock. Above her, she saw what appeared to be a burning pier. All along the pier there were holes punched through the thick planks, allowing her to see people fleeing on the upper surface.
There was a weak, wet gasp near her, and a barely audible voice said "Help."
Spinning on her heel, she saw a woman pinned by a large beam in the surf, weakly pawing at the thick piece of wood across her chest. Her head was mostly under water, each wave cresting over her mouth and nose.
Immediately, she moved to the woman and carefully lifted the beam, making sure the woman wasn't punctured by part of it before lifting it completely free and setting it aside.
Several tiny figures in olive drab uniforms leapt off her shoulders onto the water, followed by two tiny figures in white.
As she watched, the tiny folk in white quickly checked the condition of their patient and then started directing the little ones in green to drag the woman to shore.
I do not remember the world being like this.
A scream of pain interrupted her confusion, drawing her attention to a splash in the water where someone else had fallen through a hole in the pier.
Looking down the length of the pier, she could see that quite a few people were falling into the water. From what she could see, some of them were on fire. Quite a few people were also intentionally jumping into the water, some without injury, others clearly doing harm to themselves.
The pier was struck again, by something, and there was an explosion. She heard dozens of fearful shrieks and at least half a dozen bodies fell to the water.
Death was obvious in some cases. Three of the bodies were clearly too damaged to hold life.
Ships crew, stand by stations. Medical staff and support team render assistance in squads. One doctor, one nurse, four support per team. Call for help if you need me. Make it happen.
As soon as she completed the thought, hundreds of tiny figures popped out of nowhere, a river of green and white uniforms jumping off her arms and shoulders, hopping out of her pockets, even leaping off her hair.
They scurried off, somehow running on the water like she was doing.
She looked around for people who were trapped under falling timbers, but for the most part, even when people were trapped, her crew freed them before she could arrive to help. Like her, the little ones seemed much stronger than their size would indicate.
Briefly, she considered trying to climb onto the pier, but even the most stable-seeming supports creaked and wobbled dramatically when she tried to climb them. Concerned that she might bring down the entire pier, she stopped trying to climb, and directed her crew to turn their fire hoses on the pier.
As her ship's crew did what they could to dampen the pier, she could see dozens of injured being moved towards the edge of the surf by her medical and support crew.
Even as the green-uniformed support crews carefully pulled patients through the shallows to the beach, doctors and nurses were standing on patient chests and heads, shoulders and stomachs, working to triage the injured.
While the situation was by no means resolved, immediate concerns were being handled, and it was time to expand her awareness of what was happening nearby. She stopped on the water and looked around carefully.
In the distance, but rapidly growing closer, she could hear sirens. Glancing away from the pier, she could see clear signs of a large city. A city that was almost certainly Newport News, though quite a bit seemed different than what she remembered.
And it wasn't just the pier she was near that was burning. She could see at least a dozen fires along the coast, and she could hear the sharp cracks of naval rifles firing, and the thumping sound of shells exploding.
What have I-
A flash on the water, several hundred feet beyond the pier grabbed her attention, and she felt her stomach knot. Something was moving where the flash had originated.
There was another flash, except this time, the flash didn't flicker, it stayed on, illuminating her.
I've been spotted.
She wasn't the only one to notice the searchlight directed at her. Another searchlight from shore stabbed out and illuminated what appeared to be a young, pale white girl wearing lots of black leather and what appeared to be a big backpack.
The spotlight from the pale girl went out, and, suddenly, the air was full of the malignant whining noises of bullets striking out at the girl on the water.
The spotlight from shore allowed her to see that some of the bullets were hitting the girl, but she ignored them. They weren't even breaking the skin.
What was more frightening was that she could see some sort of dark malignance under the girl's surface appearance.
The hate. The hunger.
The girl's presence was arresting, almost impossible to look away from, but it was very easy to see gun barrels and torpedo tubes being pointed in her direction.
The girl was clearly far faster than her, though she couldn't say for sure how she knew that. She had no weapons to defend herself with, and likely wouldn't even make it to shore if she tried to flee.
Somehow though, she knew that there might be another way.
Reaching mentally for what seemed like some sort of switch, she deactivated a part of herself, fell into the waist-deep water, then dropped underwater and started swimming parallel to the shore, away from the pier.
She could feel and hear ordinance hitting the water nearby, probably around where she had been, but she dared not try to look. She stayed under water, swimming with all her strength.
The sounds of ordinance hitting the water gradually moved away from her, and she could hear pieces of the pier falling into the water. The murderous girl with big guns apparently thought she had gone under the pier, which she had, fortunately, not done.
There was a problem though. Breathing was apparently required, even if she was far stronger than she should have been. She hadn't had a chance to get a deep breath of air, and she was swimming strongly underwater.
Worse, there was nothing nearby to hide behind when she came up to breathe.
And, to add insult to injury, like her medical crew, she was wearing a bright white medical uniform, which would make her spectacularly visible when she stopped swimming next to the bottom and surfaced, even if she did not come out of the water.
At least I helped a few peopl-
Something moving in the water caught her eye. It was moving back and forth, and it was dark.
Immediately, she swam towards it, hoping it was what she thought it was.
After only a few more feet of swimming, she realized it was, indeed, an old tire.
By this time, however, her lungs were near to bursting, and she was getting spots in front of her eyes. She kept swimming and grabbed the tire, only to find that there was still a rim in it, which would explain why it had been resting on the bottom.
Still, it would work, she hoped.
With what felt like frantic speed, she lifted the tire with both hands, flipped it so that the side that would go on the car was facing down, then she put her head into that space, and stood up in the water.
She was very careful not to stand up enough to raise the tire out of the water, and gasped as she sucked in fresh air, with her head hidden by the tire.
Several breaths later, she was nearly ready to submerge again.
That's when the tire was wrenched from her grasp, and she looked up to see the pale girl with guns standing there, pointing weapons at her. Red eyes in an angry pale face void of mercy.
There was no way she could dodge at that range, so she closed her eyes and waited for the end.
A titanic explosion tumbled her through the water, but she didn't feel like she was dying, so she started swimming as strongly as she could in a random direction.
Through the water, she heard several more explosions, and then a much louder explosion.
Fear gave her strength, but that strength only lasted so long. Eventually she had to breathe again. This time, however, she had no tire, but she was in much deeper water.
Carefully, she poked her head up, arching her neck so that only her face left the water.
Several deep breaths later, she submerged again, swimming underwater towards what the corner of her eye told her was a jetty.
Once she reached the jetty, she swam towards shore until she could no longer stay under water, then, amongst the rocks sticking out of the water, she came up to breathe again.
Again, she wasn't fired upon, and there wasn't a killer waiting for her, so she swam closer to shore. Once she was in water that was only about knee deep, she ran out of the water, and into the city.
When she was among the buildings closest to the shore, she stopped and peeked around the corner of one of the buildings as she looked back towards the pier fire, looking for the girl that had tried to kill her.
That girl wasn't there. Another girl, this one a short redhead, was standing on the water crossing back and forth like she was looking for something. The new girl projected duty and honor, but she still carried guns, and was clearly ready to use them.
The searching girl never looked her way, and after several passes through the water, her shoulders slumped and she moved back towards shore.
Did she see me in the water? Is she looking for me?
As the girl stepped out of the water, her guns and backpack of equipment disappeared, but it was still possible to see that she wasn't just a girl. Memories of long ago told her that she was seeing a girl who was somehow also a United States destroyer from World War II.
Looking back along the beach, there were dozens of flashing red blue and white lights. A gaggle of full-sized human medical personnel, firemen, and police officers were examining the people her crew had pulled onto the beach.
My crew!
She summoned them all to her, instantly evacuating them from the beach and the pier. The medical crew had all returned, a few with minor injuries. Many of the support crew were injured. Some of them were present, but at the same not present, in a way that seemed like death, but she could tell they would return in time.
The medical crews didn't even attempt to treat the injured. For an instant, this angered her, then she realized that it wasn't necessary. Like the pseudo-dead support crew, the injured would heal rapidly, without care.
Turning her attention outward again, she saw the redheaded girl, who had been approaching the line of patients on the beach, suddenly stop moving. The destroyer girl put both hands on her hips and her head moved back and forth, scanning, clearly looking for something.
It took almost all of her willpower to keep herself from stepping out of hiding and trying to attract the destroyer girl's attention, but she managed to keep herself from doing so. The girl HAD saved her, it seemed, but at the same time, she was clearly a fighter, and this world, despite seeming so familiar, was clearly full of many new things, some of them deadly.
It didn't take a genius to realize the redheaded destroyer girl had probably seen the medical and support crews, and had tried to approach them, before they had been summoned away. After a few seconds, the girl dropped her hands off her hips, shook her head, and walked back out onto the water and skated off at a high rate of speed with two other destroyer girls.
Doubts assailed her. So, what do I do now? I don't even know who I-
The answer to the second question came before the question was finished.
USS Solace. I'm USS Solace.
She waited for more insights, but after several seconds, it was clear that spontaneous enlightenment probably required a concise question, and since she'd asked two questions and gotten one answer, not every question was getting answered.
I guess I get to do this the hard way.
**Several months earlier, August, 2015**
**
The eternal quiet was disturbed by martial music.
I served already. Leave me alone.
It wasn't the first time her slumber had been interrupted.
It also wasn't the first time she had ignored it.
Behind the music, she could taste/sense what was wanted. Help to wage war.
This was something she had no interest in. War, from her perspective, had no winners.
Despite that, she had served in war, and could not ignore the call completely. The music would rouse her again. And she would refuse, again.
If she knew how to move to a quieter place she would, but movement was foreign to her current state.
Suddenly, there was something new.
A sudden shock of pain as the music stopped. Fear. Even a sense of death.
Pain, fear, and death were not strangers.
Pain, fear, and death were her enemies. Enemies she would answer a call to fight.
But, there was no more calling. Only pain and panic.
Of course, now that I am willing, I cannot-
The thought was left incomplete. The negative emotions that energized her had not abated. They had, in fact, grown worse, but there were now very powerful calls for help spiking through the pain, fear, and death.
Using a part of herself that she couldn't begin to define, she reached out to those sources of pain and fear who were asking for help.
As she started to draw herself out of the stillness, she heard a chorus of tiny minds, somehow a part of her, but at the same time not. The chorus was hundreds of voices, each weak, but together they made themselves heard powerfully.
Bring us. We can help.
These parts of her were both welcome, and not. They did not share all of her values. But they wanted to help, and she knew them to be truthful.
You will obey me, if you join me.
The chorus did not even hesitate before agreeing. Of course.
Then you are welcome. Join me.
There was a brief moment of confusion, almost dizziness, and then she felt stable once more.
Again, she reached out that undefinable part of herself, and anchored herself to the pain, suffering and death, using the powerful requests for help and succor to draw her free of the nothingness.
She emerged into chaos.
**
Immediately after she opened her eyes, a large wooden beam fell across her right shoulder.
The beam was on fire. It was at least ten feet long, and as thick as a man's thigh.
She barely felt it as the beam snapped from the impact.
The fire, however, was a different matter. Several coals and embers had fallen into her hair and clothing, and started to smolder.
Even as she shoved the burning chunk of wood into the water beside her, crews already prepared for action leapt to duty stations. Pumps were primed. Hoses were pulled from storage. Coals and embers were washed overboard. Within seconds the fires were extinguished.
She looked around her, trying to get her bearings. Attempting to see who needed help, and where she was needed most.
When she looked down, she noticed that she was standing on water. Not in water. The water was shallow, but she was riding on top of the waves.
Being on top of the water wasn't particularly strange, but what she could see of herself was.
I'm a person?
Shaking her head, she tried to dismiss the confusion..
It doesn't matter what I am, only what I do.
Looking around, she saw several long lines of wooden posts driven into the sand and rock. Above her, she saw what appeared to be a burning pier. All along the pier there were holes punched through the thick planks, allowing her to see people fleeing on the upper surface.
There was a weak, wet gasp near her, and a barely audible voice said "Help."
Spinning on her heel, she saw a woman pinned by a large beam in the surf, weakly pawing at the thick piece of wood across her chest. Her head was mostly under water, each wave cresting over her mouth and nose.
Immediately, she moved to the woman and carefully lifted the beam, making sure the woman wasn't punctured by part of it before lifting it completely free and setting it aside.
Several tiny figures in olive drab uniforms leapt off her shoulders onto the water, followed by two tiny figures in white.
As she watched, the tiny folk in white quickly checked the condition of their patient and then started directing the little ones in green to drag the woman to shore.
I do not remember the world being like this.
A scream of pain interrupted her confusion, drawing her attention to a splash in the water where someone else had fallen through a hole in the pier.
Looking down the length of the pier, she could see that quite a few people were falling into the water. From what she could see, some of them were on fire. Quite a few people were also intentionally jumping into the water, some without injury, others clearly doing harm to themselves.
The pier was struck again, by something, and there was an explosion. She heard dozens of fearful shrieks and at least half a dozen bodies fell to the water.
Death was obvious in some cases. Three of the bodies were clearly too damaged to hold life.
Ships crew, stand by stations. Medical staff and support team render assistance in squads. One doctor, one nurse, four support per team. Call for help if you need me. Make it happen.
As soon as she completed the thought, hundreds of tiny figures popped out of nowhere, a river of green and white uniforms jumping off her arms and shoulders, hopping out of her pockets, even leaping off her hair.
They scurried off, somehow running on the water like she was doing.
She looked around for people who were trapped under falling timbers, but for the most part, even when people were trapped, her crew freed them before she could arrive to help. Like her, the little ones seemed much stronger than their size would indicate.
Briefly, she considered trying to climb onto the pier, but even the most stable-seeming supports creaked and wobbled dramatically when she tried to climb them. Concerned that she might bring down the entire pier, she stopped trying to climb, and directed her crew to turn their fire hoses on the pier.
As her ship's crew did what they could to dampen the pier, she could see dozens of injured being moved towards the edge of the surf by her medical and support crew.
Even as the green-uniformed support crews carefully pulled patients through the shallows to the beach, doctors and nurses were standing on patient chests and heads, shoulders and stomachs, working to triage the injured.
While the situation was by no means resolved, immediate concerns were being handled, and it was time to expand her awareness of what was happening nearby. She stopped on the water and looked around carefully.
In the distance, but rapidly growing closer, she could hear sirens. Glancing away from the pier, she could see clear signs of a large city. A city that was almost certainly Newport News, though quite a bit seemed different than what she remembered.
And it wasn't just the pier she was near that was burning. She could see at least a dozen fires along the coast, and she could hear the sharp cracks of naval rifles firing, and the thumping sound of shells exploding.
What have I-
A flash on the water, several hundred feet beyond the pier grabbed her attention, and she felt her stomach knot. Something was moving where the flash had originated.
There was another flash, except this time, the flash didn't flicker, it stayed on, illuminating her.
I've been spotted.
She wasn't the only one to notice the searchlight directed at her. Another searchlight from shore stabbed out and illuminated what appeared to be a young, pale white girl wearing lots of black leather and what appeared to be a big backpack.
The spotlight from the pale girl went out, and, suddenly, the air was full of the malignant whining noises of bullets striking out at the girl on the water.
The spotlight from shore allowed her to see that some of the bullets were hitting the girl, but she ignored them. They weren't even breaking the skin.
What was more frightening was that she could see some sort of dark malignance under the girl's surface appearance.
The hate. The hunger.
The girl's presence was arresting, almost impossible to look away from, but it was very easy to see gun barrels and torpedo tubes being pointed in her direction.
The girl was clearly far faster than her, though she couldn't say for sure how she knew that. She had no weapons to defend herself with, and likely wouldn't even make it to shore if she tried to flee.
Somehow though, she knew that there might be another way.
Reaching mentally for what seemed like some sort of switch, she deactivated a part of herself, fell into the waist-deep water, then dropped underwater and started swimming parallel to the shore, away from the pier.
She could feel and hear ordinance hitting the water nearby, probably around where she had been, but she dared not try to look. She stayed under water, swimming with all her strength.
The sounds of ordinance hitting the water gradually moved away from her, and she could hear pieces of the pier falling into the water. The murderous girl with big guns apparently thought she had gone under the pier, which she had, fortunately, not done.
There was a problem though. Breathing was apparently required, even if she was far stronger than she should have been. She hadn't had a chance to get a deep breath of air, and she was swimming strongly underwater.
Worse, there was nothing nearby to hide behind when she came up to breathe.
And, to add insult to injury, like her medical crew, she was wearing a bright white medical uniform, which would make her spectacularly visible when she stopped swimming next to the bottom and surfaced, even if she did not come out of the water.
At least I helped a few peopl-
Something moving in the water caught her eye. It was moving back and forth, and it was dark.
Immediately, she swam towards it, hoping it was what she thought it was.
After only a few more feet of swimming, she realized it was, indeed, an old tire.
By this time, however, her lungs were near to bursting, and she was getting spots in front of her eyes. She kept swimming and grabbed the tire, only to find that there was still a rim in it, which would explain why it had been resting on the bottom.
Still, it would work, she hoped.
With what felt like frantic speed, she lifted the tire with both hands, flipped it so that the side that would go on the car was facing down, then she put her head into that space, and stood up in the water.
She was very careful not to stand up enough to raise the tire out of the water, and gasped as she sucked in fresh air, with her head hidden by the tire.
Several breaths later, she was nearly ready to submerge again.
That's when the tire was wrenched from her grasp, and she looked up to see the pale girl with guns standing there, pointing weapons at her. Red eyes in an angry pale face void of mercy.
There was no way she could dodge at that range, so she closed her eyes and waited for the end.
A titanic explosion tumbled her through the water, but she didn't feel like she was dying, so she started swimming as strongly as she could in a random direction.
Through the water, she heard several more explosions, and then a much louder explosion.
Fear gave her strength, but that strength only lasted so long. Eventually she had to breathe again. This time, however, she had no tire, but she was in much deeper water.
Carefully, she poked her head up, arching her neck so that only her face left the water.
Several deep breaths later, she submerged again, swimming underwater towards what the corner of her eye told her was a jetty.
Once she reached the jetty, she swam towards shore until she could no longer stay under water, then, amongst the rocks sticking out of the water, she came up to breathe again.
Again, she wasn't fired upon, and there wasn't a killer waiting for her, so she swam closer to shore. Once she was in water that was only about knee deep, she ran out of the water, and into the city.
When she was among the buildings closest to the shore, she stopped and peeked around the corner of one of the buildings as she looked back towards the pier fire, looking for the girl that had tried to kill her.
That girl wasn't there. Another girl, this one a short redhead, was standing on the water crossing back and forth like she was looking for something. The new girl projected duty and honor, but she still carried guns, and was clearly ready to use them.
The searching girl never looked her way, and after several passes through the water, her shoulders slumped and she moved back towards shore.
Did she see me in the water? Is she looking for me?
As the girl stepped out of the water, her guns and backpack of equipment disappeared, but it was still possible to see that she wasn't just a girl. Memories of long ago told her that she was seeing a girl who was somehow also a United States destroyer from World War II.
Looking back along the beach, there were dozens of flashing red blue and white lights. A gaggle of full-sized human medical personnel, firemen, and police officers were examining the people her crew had pulled onto the beach.
My crew!
She summoned them all to her, instantly evacuating them from the beach and the pier. The medical crew had all returned, a few with minor injuries. Many of the support crew were injured. Some of them were present, but at the same not present, in a way that seemed like death, but she could tell they would return in time.
The medical crews didn't even attempt to treat the injured. For an instant, this angered her, then she realized that it wasn't necessary. Like the pseudo-dead support crew, the injured would heal rapidly, without care.
Turning her attention outward again, she saw the redheaded girl, who had been approaching the line of patients on the beach, suddenly stop moving. The destroyer girl put both hands on her hips and her head moved back and forth, scanning, clearly looking for something.
It took almost all of her willpower to keep herself from stepping out of hiding and trying to attract the destroyer girl's attention, but she managed to keep herself from doing so. The girl HAD saved her, it seemed, but at the same time, she was clearly a fighter, and this world, despite seeming so familiar, was clearly full of many new things, some of them deadly.
It didn't take a genius to realize the redheaded destroyer girl had probably seen the medical and support crews, and had tried to approach them, before they had been summoned away. After a few seconds, the girl dropped her hands off her hips, shook her head, and walked back out onto the water and skated off at a high rate of speed with two other destroyer girls.
Doubts assailed her. So, what do I do now? I don't even know who I-
The answer to the second question came before the question was finished.
USS Solace. I'm USS Solace.
She waited for more insights, but after several seconds, it was clear that spontaneous enlightenment probably required a concise question, and since she'd asked two questions and gotten one answer, not every question was getting answered.
I guess I get to do this the hard way.
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PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
*sigh*
You know that for Wash and the rest of the shipgirls, obeying the commands of the CNO and SecNav is like the commands of God, right? And Regs are like God's laws. Fortunately, as has been pointed out many, many times, the solutions are simple. Gale either gets a warrant, becoming a Warrant Officer, or she goes mustang and gets bars. Either way, Wash/Gale is now compliant with Regs.
esseresse
R'lyth Power Make-up
- Location
- divorceville, state of depression
- Pronouns
- They/Her
You got laid have a promotion
PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
More like "You're our best shipgirl wrangler, have a long overdue promotion."
The Sandman
So Zetta Slowpoke
- Location
- Wherever I am, which isn't where I'm not
And then Gale's mind goes to herself in a cowgirl outfit, and then to lassoing Wash, and after that she needs a cold shower and to lie down for a bit before she's ready for duty again.
- Location
- People's Republik of Kalifornia
There is doubt as to whether a Chief going Warrant or Butterbar is really a Promotion.
- Location
- Deep in the Badlands of Equestria
Washington: "Gale, why do I have a gift box with a collar, attached cowbell, and a belt with a fake cowtail?"
- Location
- Canada
Regs dont work on middle aged mothers who want grandkids.
- Location
- Pacific NW
Because you already have fantastic udders.. rudders! I said rudders! *is chunky salsa'd by 16 inch barrage*
- Location
- Pacific Northwest
In which case, both the CNO and SecNav would say, "So long as your daughter is a member of the United States Navy, she follows regulations and is subject to the UCMJ. If she decides these regulations are interfering with her life, she's free to leave the Navy and do as she pleases."
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HolyDragoon
Call Gespenst!
- Location
- Portugal
Being a destroyer wrangler is suffering. Maybe we could add a bit of horror and watch as the next NCO's sanity is ripped to shreds after Gale bails out.
And the next, and the next...
And the next, and the next...
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
I'm going to be completely honest. I'm one of the people who puts the most research into these fics in the name of realism. Especially in regards to the military.
But for the love of god can we please stop talking about regs. It's getting to the brick wall stage because neither side is ever going to convince the other.
But for the love of god can we please stop talking about regs. It's getting to the brick wall stage because neither side is ever going to convince the other.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Personally I view it as an obstacle to be overcome, and several methods of overcoming it have already been suggested- but dealing with it would be one of the obvious ways to keep Gale's suffering coefficient up.
If we don't deal with it, then it is all the more imperative that the extra suffering find a newscapegoat lightning rod target.
If we don't deal with it, then it is all the more imperative that the extra suffering find a new
Icywinter
50% ice, 50% winter
- Location
- ?
- Pronouns
- She/Her
- Location
- 'Murica
What do you think I'm doing??Bully Winter
Icywinter
50% ice, 50% winter
- Location
- ?
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The Sandman
So Zetta Slowpoke
- Location
- Wherever I am, which isn't where I'm not
Gale: "The same reason I have these assless chaps."
Wash: "Objections withdrawn."
obssesednuker
Commander of 10 Million Men
- Location
- In the Kremlin, activating Perimtr.
Is it working better then your attempts at bullying me?
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
To do that we just have to pair up Atago with a young enterprising naval officer.