Sir_Braazmiir
Tiefling Paladin
- Location
- Wherever I am
Bogue was better! She downed more subs than any other carrier, even White Plains!
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
- Location
- United States
Bah! Bogue isn't here, and even if she was, there's no way to know if that would translate into her ability to teach Japanese warships how to warship!
For all we know, she'd spend all her time stalking the Japanese submarines and pouncing on them instead of teaching others how to do anything.
Spectre
eternal servant to the Fire/EMS gods
- Location
- NY
but we need to send her to Germany if she comes back, just to keep any returning U-boats in line.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
- Location
- Vancouver, Washington
That's right. White Plains sensei teaches a vast array of knowledge. Bogue is Master Teacher of Defense Against the Submersible Arts!
- Location
- Canada
Big sis Casablanca was a training ship for the entire war. If anything she should be the teacher.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
White Plains may not be the teacher the IJN shipgirls might desire, but she's the one they have, and she certainly seems to be the one they need.
[nods firmly, gives seal of approval to tiny momboat]
[nods firmly, gives seal of approval to tiny momboat]
PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
Know something funny? White Plains is actually slightly larger, in terms of displacement (but not length) than Houshou.
That's right, tiny momboat is actually bigger than first proper carrier momboat.
- Location
- Malaysia
- Location
- Pacific NW
Meh. You have to read the Yandere Survival Guide to really appreciate what goes into the best of all -dere relationships.
Omake: Iowatimes
Nicholas
No longer teaching battlethings on a battleship
- Location
- Ashore again
- Pronouns
- He/Him
How about an Omake?
---
"Hello, folks! Welcome to the battleship Iowa. Is this your first time visiting? Well then, thanks for coming to see us."
Jake Ryan listened with only half an ear to his fellow volunteer welcoming new guests onto the ship. He finally got that last damn hat down and collapsed exhausted on a bench by the quarterdeck. At least the canopy gave him some shade, even if he had to listen to whomever was on quarterdeck watch welcome all the guests to the ship.
"Yeah, he's just a little tired; we've got a very dedicated group of volunteers on this ship always hard at work to make your visit enjoyable, but even they need some rest once in a while."
Jake snorted in amusement and pulled his hat down over his eyes. Make their visit enjoyable—yeah right. Making their visit hat-free was more like it.
"You're going to be on a self-guided tour. Just follow the yellow arrows and they'll take you all around the ship. Watch your head and watch your step, especially when going through the hatches and on the ladders. The ship does like to reach out and trip people sometimes; we think she finds it funny."
The idea that Iowa herself thought it funny to trip people had gained a lot of traction as of late, especially as the people falling were the least in danger of permanent damage. A ninety-year-old veteran with a wobbly gait and bad hip could make his way through the whole tour—up six flights of stairs and down six flights of stairs—no problem, but a pair of twenty-year-olds would inevitably trip on something and go sprawling. At first some made the argument that it was because the older guest, more aware of the danger, would be more careful than the younger. No one made that argument anymore.
"If you have a camera, take all the pictures you want. We have a little intro video here to tell you a bit about who we are and why we're so awesome, and enjoy!"
The volunteer manning quarterdeck sat back down with a huff. "Sorry," he said, as though he had to apologize for interrupting Jake so he could do his job. "You were saying?"
"Yeah, it was all the way up on Spot One," Jake picked his story up right where he left off. Those damned hats popped up a lot of places, but for one to suddenly appear on the O-12 level was a bit much.
The other volunteer shook his head. He may have been newish to the ship, but he was throwing himself in as much as he could. "That's all the way up there, isn't it?" he asked, leaning out from the awning to look up at the highest point on the ship. Jake got a glimpse of the volunteer's name badge as he did so. How did someone with a first name as simple as Nick get a last name that was so unpronounceable? "How did you get it down from there?"
"I didn't, thankfully. I'm one of Gunny's Junior Jarheads; there's no way they'd let me up that high." Nick nodded. One of the tour leads, a retired gunnery sergeant, helped run a junior Marine ROTC at the local high school, and many of the cadets also volunteered on the ship. But no matter how trusted Jake was, there was no anyone would let a high schooler climb twelve stories above the main deck to retrieve a hat. "Ops took care of it. They're the main ones on hat patrol—the hard to reach ones, anyway."
"Seems like that has become almost the only thing they do," Nick replied. "It's not like the ship seems to need much upkeep."
"You've noticed that too?"
Nick pointed to the salmon-colored building just two berths away from Iowa's bow, on the other side of the fireboat station. "I used to volunteer at the L.A. Maritime Museum, and I watched from that dock as they towed Iowa into the harbor. I was one of the first tourists to come on board; I remember how it looked then. So much of this deck was rotted that much of the tour route was covered in plywood, and now it's all brand-new teak? That and the curator always seems to be finding documents everywhere; ship's plans here, an overlooked warehouse there. Either this museum has unlimited funding and volunteers, or something weird is going on."
Jake blinked. It was only Nick's fifth day on the ship and he just joined two weeks ago; he watched it come into the harbor years ago? "You were here when it first arrived? Why did you wait until now to join up?"
"I grew up here, but went to college in Virginia. After I got my masters the wife and I decided to move back here and I started volunteering." The other volunteer shrugged, then continued, "But stop changing the subject; just what is going on on this ship?"
Jake hesitated; dare he share his suspicions? "You know those 'spirits' in the news lately," he said cautiously, "the ones that are apparently ships manifesting as women?"
Nick nodded. "You think Iowa is manifesting as well?"
Jake hesitated again. "You ever see a woman just hanging around? Tall, well built—"
"Sunglasses and big blond hair?" Nick smiled at the look on Jake's face. "Yeah, I've seen her around. The first time, I was sweeping the ship at the end of the day and I thought she was a guest still on board. Wound up chasing her around the entire ship, but finally gave up when I saw a painting of her and figured it was Iowa's spirit."
Now Jake really sputtered. "A painting?! What painting?"
"You know that painting in the damage control berthing? The one that says 'Repairing and Daring'?"
"R-Division? Yeah, but that's a big flag."
"But there's a picture next to it, of what it looked like before we had to paint the flag over it. Sure below the waist is a mermaid, but everything else was a spitting image."
Jake blinked and then slowly started shaking his head. "I'll be darned, it was here all along…"
"Excuse me!" Nick and Jake looked up and turned to the guest who had called to them. "Did someone lose their hat?"
Both volunteers followed the guest's pointed finger, and saw the bright red hat sitting jauntily atop Mount 51. As one, the two muttered in frustration, "Iowa."
As Jake stood up and as Nick picked up the radio, the sound of the ship straining at the ropes tying her to the dock was Iowa's only reply.
---
"Hello, folks! Welcome to the battleship Iowa. Is this your first time visiting? Well then, thanks for coming to see us."
Jake Ryan listened with only half an ear to his fellow volunteer welcoming new guests onto the ship. He finally got that last damn hat down and collapsed exhausted on a bench by the quarterdeck. At least the canopy gave him some shade, even if he had to listen to whomever was on quarterdeck watch welcome all the guests to the ship.
"Yeah, he's just a little tired; we've got a very dedicated group of volunteers on this ship always hard at work to make your visit enjoyable, but even they need some rest once in a while."
Jake snorted in amusement and pulled his hat down over his eyes. Make their visit enjoyable—yeah right. Making their visit hat-free was more like it.
"You're going to be on a self-guided tour. Just follow the yellow arrows and they'll take you all around the ship. Watch your head and watch your step, especially when going through the hatches and on the ladders. The ship does like to reach out and trip people sometimes; we think she finds it funny."
The idea that Iowa herself thought it funny to trip people had gained a lot of traction as of late, especially as the people falling were the least in danger of permanent damage. A ninety-year-old veteran with a wobbly gait and bad hip could make his way through the whole tour—up six flights of stairs and down six flights of stairs—no problem, but a pair of twenty-year-olds would inevitably trip on something and go sprawling. At first some made the argument that it was because the older guest, more aware of the danger, would be more careful than the younger. No one made that argument anymore.
"If you have a camera, take all the pictures you want. We have a little intro video here to tell you a bit about who we are and why we're so awesome, and enjoy!"
The volunteer manning quarterdeck sat back down with a huff. "Sorry," he said, as though he had to apologize for interrupting Jake so he could do his job. "You were saying?"
"Yeah, it was all the way up on Spot One," Jake picked his story up right where he left off. Those damned hats popped up a lot of places, but for one to suddenly appear on the O-12 level was a bit much.
The other volunteer shook his head. He may have been newish to the ship, but he was throwing himself in as much as he could. "That's all the way up there, isn't it?" he asked, leaning out from the awning to look up at the highest point on the ship. Jake got a glimpse of the volunteer's name badge as he did so. How did someone with a first name as simple as Nick get a last name that was so unpronounceable? "How did you get it down from there?"
"I didn't, thankfully. I'm one of Gunny's Junior Jarheads; there's no way they'd let me up that high." Nick nodded. One of the tour leads, a retired gunnery sergeant, helped run a junior Marine ROTC at the local high school, and many of the cadets also volunteered on the ship. But no matter how trusted Jake was, there was no anyone would let a high schooler climb twelve stories above the main deck to retrieve a hat. "Ops took care of it. They're the main ones on hat patrol—the hard to reach ones, anyway."
"Seems like that has become almost the only thing they do," Nick replied. "It's not like the ship seems to need much upkeep."
"You've noticed that too?"
Nick pointed to the salmon-colored building just two berths away from Iowa's bow, on the other side of the fireboat station. "I used to volunteer at the L.A. Maritime Museum, and I watched from that dock as they towed Iowa into the harbor. I was one of the first tourists to come on board; I remember how it looked then. So much of this deck was rotted that much of the tour route was covered in plywood, and now it's all brand-new teak? That and the curator always seems to be finding documents everywhere; ship's plans here, an overlooked warehouse there. Either this museum has unlimited funding and volunteers, or something weird is going on."
Jake blinked. It was only Nick's fifth day on the ship and he just joined two weeks ago; he watched it come into the harbor years ago? "You were here when it first arrived? Why did you wait until now to join up?"
"I grew up here, but went to college in Virginia. After I got my masters the wife and I decided to move back here and I started volunteering." The other volunteer shrugged, then continued, "But stop changing the subject; just what is going on on this ship?"
Jake hesitated; dare he share his suspicions? "You know those 'spirits' in the news lately," he said cautiously, "the ones that are apparently ships manifesting as women?"
Nick nodded. "You think Iowa is manifesting as well?"
Jake hesitated again. "You ever see a woman just hanging around? Tall, well built—"
"Sunglasses and big blond hair?" Nick smiled at the look on Jake's face. "Yeah, I've seen her around. The first time, I was sweeping the ship at the end of the day and I thought she was a guest still on board. Wound up chasing her around the entire ship, but finally gave up when I saw a painting of her and figured it was Iowa's spirit."
Now Jake really sputtered. "A painting?! What painting?"
"You know that painting in the damage control berthing? The one that says 'Repairing and Daring'?"
"R-Division? Yeah, but that's a big flag."
"But there's a picture next to it, of what it looked like before we had to paint the flag over it. Sure below the waist is a mermaid, but everything else was a spitting image."
Jake blinked and then slowly started shaking his head. "I'll be darned, it was here all along…"
"Excuse me!" Nick and Jake looked up and turned to the guest who had called to them. "Did someone lose their hat?"
Both volunteers followed the guest's pointed finger, and saw the bright red hat sitting jauntily atop Mount 51. As one, the two muttered in frustration, "Iowa."
As Jake stood up and as Nick picked up the radio, the sound of the ship straining at the ropes tying her to the dock was Iowa's only reply.
The flag:
The girl:
The girl:
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
No, this just happens sometimes. Iowa finds it funny to mess with Jake.
Like spooky stuff that lets battleships exist in the size and shape of adult women?
Oh goddammit.
Stop laughing.
It's too bad I can only give this a like. It was great.
- Location
- Mid-Atlantic
Well, heaven knows what, or even IF, she'd be showing up dressed like if you hadn't painted over that picture.
- Location
- Canada
Missouri: SECNAV help me...
PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
Sir_Braazmiir
Tiefling Paladin
- Location
- Wherever I am
Illinois: Goddamn it, sis! We are supposed to have respect!
- Location
- Canada
Alabama: Hey, that looks fun Lemme try!
SoDak, Indiana, and Massachusetts: NO!
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
Ari: *Maximum Prude Rage*
Sir_Braazmiir
Tiefling Paladin
- Location
- Wherever I am
Michigan: We battleships have standards. Ourselves.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
CompassJimbo
Where’s Your North?
- Location
- The former Rubber Capital of the World
Oh god BelaBat!Iowa has 80s Hair.
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
...man, all the roleplay.
Good thing Sara's normal-by-shipgirl-standards
(if the 'you nailed her' thing 'laska said in that bit was any indication)
Good thing Sara's normal-by-shipgirl-standards
(if the 'you nailed her' thing 'laska said in that bit was any indication)
Nicholas
No longer teaching battlethings on a battleship
- Location
- Ashore again
- Pronouns
- He/Him
...man, all the roleplay.
Good thing Sara's normal-by-shipgirl-standards
(if the 'you nailed her' thing 'laska said in that bit was any indication)
Pretty sure shipgirls can't be the straight man in this story. It's in their contract or something.
Inb4 she has a thing for Dickens:
"Begin Test Baker."
Saratoga: "It is a far better thing that I do, that I have ever done..."
Everyone else: "C'mon bomb! Save us from this poetry!"
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
I both love and hate you all.