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Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]

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Old Iron said:
Admiral: You... just needed to ask, you know. She's a gun or two and a few thousand tons short, but that's easy enough to come up with. And we're in need of a new battleship anyways. So...
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Heh. Though the thing to remember is that the Sarah Gale Battlecruisers were launched three years after the first encounter with a space Abyssals, Galactic Ghoul Princess and humanity discovered that there were Abyssals in space. So you can imagine the panic that happened...
 
Harry Leferts said:
Heh. Though the thing to remember is that the Sarah Gale Battlecruisers were launched three years after the first encounter with a space Abyssals, Galactic Ghoul Princess and humanity discovered that there were Abyssals IN SPACE. So you can imagine the panic that happened...
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I do believe that I fixed that for you. So, when they were naming ships after people, were they deliberately hoping for those people to come back at some point?
 
Harry Leferts said:
Heh. Though the thing to remember is that the Sarah Gale Battlecruisers were launched three years after the first encounter with a space Abyssals, Galactic Ghoul Princess and humanity discovered that there were Abyssals in space. So you can imagine the panic that happened...
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You'd probably see mass summonings and the reactivation of every possibile shipyard that could turn out miliary grade boats in a very short amount of time. Humanity survived the first Abyssal war. But that was fought on the oceans of Earth, not in the seas of space.
Aires Drake said:
I do believe that I fixed that for you. So, when they were naming ships after people, were they deliberately hoping for those people to come back at some point?
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That could actually be a horrifying and brilliant investment.

You know how to summon a ship's spirit after it is sunk. So you make damn sure in the unfortunate event it does die, that you can bring it back and that it will want to fight with you. Or at least impart its knowledge and experience to the crews and ships of those who can.
 
Old Iron said:
That could actually be a horrifying and brilliant investment.

You know how to summon a ship's spirit after it is sunk. So you make damn sure in the unfortunate event it does die, that you can bring it back and that it will want to fight with you. Or at least impart its knowledge and experience to the crews and ships of those who can.
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My mind is a horrifying place, what else can I say?
 
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Part 38: Bounce... Bounce... Bounce...
  • Threadmarks
    • Well... I think I sprained my pinky, so shorter update today, and likley a longer wait before the next one. (And yes, I am complaining about a sprained pinky. I'm that much of a little bitch.)

    Part 38​
    Jersey smirked as her long, slender bow cut though the playful Pacific waves. The seas weren't glassy-calm today, but you could hardly call them nasty. Compared to the horrific—not to mention excruciatingly cold—waves of the Bering Sea, the waves were downright timid. The cloudless sky almost glowed a uniform sapphire blue, and the breeze was just enough to blow salt-tinged air though the battleship's long braid.

    It was a downright perfect day to be at sea. But that wasn't the reason she was smiling. No… no, she was smiling because of the monstrous super-battleship sailing a few hundred yards abreast of her. More specifically, she was smiling at the look of exhausted agony on said super-battleship's face.

    "Doing okay over there?" yelled Jersey, her hands resting on her broad American hips, framing the two-hundred-and-twelve-thousand horses her designers had crammed into her hull.

    Musashi thrust her chin in the air and adjusted her glasses before deaning to dignify the American with a response, "I, Musashi, am quite alright."

    "Uh huh," Jersey rolled her eyes as Musashi smashed though a wave, her whole body going tense as she steeled herself to stifle a wince. The Japanese girl's stupid-ass bandage-things might keep her decent—for certain definitions of the word "decent." She was flashing more boobage than Jersey'd ever have—but they offered absolutely nothing in the realm of support.

    Every wave sent a jolt of pain up the battleship's spine as her colossal breasts bounced against her tanned chest. She was trying to hide it, of course. Crossing her arms under her chest to keep herself contained. But her escorts were to attentive for that. Johnston's eyes never once lost their perfect lock on her bouncing topweight.

    "You know," said Jersey, putting her hands on the small of her back and stretching her muscles. "If you're hurting-"

    "I am not," stated the Battleshipl

    Jersey ignored her, "There's these things called bras."

    Musashi scowled, staring down her slender nose as the America.

    "Just saying," said Jersey with a smirk, angling her hull to catch a wave square-on.

    Musashi let out a haughty scoff.

    Before Jersey could answer, her cellphone buzzed frantically in her pocket, makings its desire for urgent attention known. She, aided by a pair of faeries wearing miniature hardhats, slipped the cellphone out, and jabbed frantically at the screen. Her lock code was nice and simple, "2262" and she got it on her third try. She was really getting good at this whole 'future' thing.

    "Yo," Jersey cradled the slender rectangle in its armored, waterproof steel case against her ear. Which… was weird considering she's a ship and doesn't have ears. But it was the kind of weird she just tried her best not to think about.

    "Jersey," the gravelly baritone of Her Admiral rumbled though the cellphone's surprisingly high-quality speaker, "Any problems with the fleet?"

    Jersey glanced around, "Musashi's jiggling like you wouldn't fucking believe," said the battleship, shooting a glare at the actively-disinterested Japanese woman, "And she refuses to admit it's a problem. That's about it, sir."

    Williams allowed himself a single gruff chuckle. "She'll learn from your example, commander."

    "I certainly hope so, sir," said Jersey. "What's the, uh… what's the news on- wait, let me tie in the rest of the fleet." Jersey fiddled with her phone for a few seconds, adding everyone else into the call. "There. what's the news with our zoomie friends?"

    "One of the testbeds had its nose blow out," said Williams, "Had to make an emergency landing at Ontario."

    "Damn." Jersey scowled, "And the rest?"

    "Forming up as Bonecrusher flight. Two B-52-Glassnose birds with GPS-guided munitions."

    "Fuck yeah," said Jersey, "Uh… sir."

    "As you were, Commander," said Williams, his tone not quite the stoic rumble it was before. "Our spooks have poured over the latest… Intel from Iku."

    Jersey winced at the thought. Spooks were a strange bunch at the best of times, spending days on end in a tiny windowless room peering at highly classified photographs took a certain kind of person. And they just got a load of strong pornography dropped on their laps. The worrisome thing was Jersey wasn't sure if the porn was the lewd shipgirl pics or ultra-high-resolution images of Abyssal warships. "I'm… sorry, sir."

    "Thanks, Jersey. I'll take what I can get." The Admiral let out a huff, probably while he reached for the appropriate folder, *"They're radiating, but at very low levels. If they've got surface-search radar, it'll be short-ranged and imprecise."

    "Okay," said Jersey, her mind already starting to run war games and scenarios in her head. "What's the weather looking like?"

    "Latest estimates are…" a pause and the sound of rustling papers, "gentle seas, but thick, patchy fog and possible rain squalls."

    "Alright," Jersey nodded, her gaze slowly unfocusing as her conscious slipped back into her CIC. "Alright, I can work with that."

    "Anything else, Commander?"

    "Uh, no sir," said Jersey. "Well…"

    "Yes?"

    "How come future taskforces have such cooler names?" asked the battleship, "Back in my day, that had numbers. And like… maybe a decimal point."

    Williams chuckled, "If I knew, Commander…"

    "Understood sir."

    "Williams out."

    Jersey sighed, glancing over at Musashi, who had her phone all but glued to her ear. "You got all that, I take it?"

    The assembled fleet of Kanmusu offered a ragged chorus of nods.

    "Okay," said Jersey, "Taskforce leads, I want a course that'll put us in combat positions by dawn."

    Musashi smiled, her teeth glinting in a truly predatory display. "We'll attack with the rays of the rising sun."

    "No," said Jersey, her icy gaze hardening to steel, "At dawn."

    "Here we go," said Hoel, handing Mutsu a five dollar bill which the latter promptly stuffed down her top.

    Nagato pretended she hadn't noticed her sister's antics. "And what's the plan once we make contact?"

    Jersey smiled. Then she told them.

    —|—|—

    "Any questions?" asked Jersey, her hands resting on her hips while she awaited input on her plan.

    Musashi offered a solemn nod. "I'm not excited to fight though fog," she said bluntly. "My fire-control range finders are superb, but they require clear line-of-sight to function."

    "Then they ain't so superb," snapped back Jersey. "Radar Master Race," she pointed to her arrays with both hands, "Can't expect the weather to go your way."

    Musashi folded her arms, "And you cannot expect every air-dropped torpedo to behave as… consistently poorly as your mark fourteens." She smirked, her glasses glinting a solid white in the sun as she squeezed her ample torpedo bulges, "Need I remind you that the air will be swarming with torpedo bombers?"

    "Which would be a problem," countered Jersey, "If my AA wasn't god-tier. And even if a fish or two make it to the water," she gave her hips loving pat, "I float like a butterfly, and I can shoot on the move."

    Johnston kinda tuned out after that. The argument quickly got boring for everyone but the two girls involved in it. And the rhythmic bounce of Musashi's… musashies was just too entrancing to be around. Bounce… Bounce… Bounce… So calming… so much more interesting than listen to the battleships argue.

    Especially when Jersey was so obviously better.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Goddammit, Johnston, get back on the clock. Regardless of your having the good sense to acknowledge Jersey's obvious superiority, your attention's in the wrong place. :facepalm: You can leer at the Mu-Sash-EEs when the job's done.
     
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    Old Iron said:
    That could actually be a horrifying and brilliant investment.

    You know how to summon a ship's spirit after it is sunk. So you make damn sure in the unfortunate event it does die, that you can bring it back and that it will want to fight with you. Or at least impart its knowledge and experience to the crews and ships of those who can.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Looking at the people who have reincarnated as shippeople, it's not just a name thing. It's all people who not only had ships named after them, they had shipgirls as part of their lives and souls (try and tell me that love doesn't make someone a part of your soul) well before they died. One way or another, all of the new/old ships had shipgirls as important parts of their lives for a long time. Due to Jane, we can see that it's not just a romantic thing, so barring finding a way to properly test the hypothesis, the best assumption is that love, and lots of it, is what made the whole spaceshipgirls thing possible.
     
    MadGreenSon said:
    Looking at the people who have reincarnated as shippeople, it's not just a name thing. It's all people who not only had ships named after them, they had shipgirls as part of their lives and souls (try and tell me that love doesn't make someone a part of your soul) well before they died. One way or another, all of the new/old ships had shipgirls as important parts of their lives for a long time. Due to Jane, we can see that it's not just a romantic thing, so barring finding a way to properly test the hypothesis, the best assumption is that love, and lots of it, is what made the whole spaceshipgirls thing possible.
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    And you, sir, have pretty much hit it on the head in my view. Remember, we got some shipgirls in the story named after people (Sammy, Johnston, Hoel, and Heermann) and yet they're not the actual people. All the spaceshipgirls and spaceshipboys are those who, in their original human lives, had very close relationships with Shipgirls. Richardson is obvious with Arizona, Hiei, Mutsu, and Jintsuu. Jane, you have the mother/daughter relationship mentioned between her and the previous four mentioned shipgirls. Gale? You have her relationship with Wash and Kirishima (and possibly a sisterly relationship with the other Kongou sisters), but also a possible mother/big sister relationship with England and Borie later on. Crowning? Well besides the obvious one with Jersey, there's also the possible chance of him becoming a father figure to the Taffies. Gato? Well, besides Kongou and her sisters, you also have how he seems to have a close relationship with all the Kanmusu in Yokosuka. And these are relationships strengthened over the lifetimes of the people, and whom whose memories are kept close by the shipgirls.

    TL: DR, You're pretty much correct in my view.
     
    Man, with Jersey and Mushashi here, I'm going to resist the urge to go full shipyard and say "Why not upgrade to radar, AND CIWS. That way you both can argue about who is better.
     
    theJMPer said:
    Well... I think I sprained my pinky, so shorter update today, and likley a longer wait before the next one. (And yes, I am complaining about a sprained pinky. I'm that much of a little bitch.)

    Part 38​
    Jersey smirked as her long, slender bow cut though the playful Pacific waves. The seas weren't glassy-calm today, but you could hardly call them nasty. Compared to the horrific—not to mention excruciatingly cold—waves of the Bering Sea, the waves were downright timid. The cloudless sky almost glowed a uniform sapphire blue, and the breeze was just enough to blow salt-tinged air though the battleship's long braid.

    It was a downright perfect day to be at sea. But that wasn't the reason she was smiling. No… no, she was smiling because of the monstrous super-battleship sailing a few hundred yards abreast of her. More specifically, she was smiling at the look of exhausted agony on said super-battleship's face.

    "Doing okay over there?" yelled Jersey, her hands resting on her broad American hips, framing the two-hundred-and-twelve-thousand horses her designers had crammed into her hull.

    Musashi thrust her chin in the air and adjusted her glasses before deaning to dignify the American with a response, "I, Musashi, am quite alright."

    "Uh huh," Jersey rolled her eyes as Musashi smashed though a wave, her whole body going tense as she steeled herself to stifle a wince. The Japanese girl's stupid-ass bandage-things might keep her decent—for certain definitions of the word "decent." She was flashing more boobage than Jersey'd ever have—but they offered absolutely nothing in the realm of support.

    Every wave sent a jolt of pain up the battleship's spine as her colossal breasts bounced against her tanned chest. She was trying to hide it, of course. Crossing her arms under her chest to keep herself contained. But her escorts were to attentive for that. Johnston's eyes never once lost their perfect lock on her bouncing topweight.

    "You know," said Jersey, putting her hands on the small of her back and stretching her muscles. "If you're hurting-"

    "I am not," stated the Battleshipl

    Jersey ignored her, "There's these things called bras."

    Musashi scowled, staring down her slender nose as the America.

    "Just saying," said Jersey with a smirk, angling her hull to catch a wave square-on.

    Musashi let out a haughty scoff.

    Before Jersey could answer, her cellphone buzzed frantically in her pocket, makings its desire for urgent attention known. She, aided by a pair of faeries wearing miniature hardhats, slipped the cellphone out, and jabbed frantically at the screen. Her lock code was nice and simple, "2262" and she got it on her third try. She was really getting good at this whole 'future' thing.

    "Yo," Jersey cradled the slender rectangle in its armored, waterproof steel case against her ear. Which… was weird considering she's a ship and doesn't have ears. But it was the kind of weird she just tried her best not to think about.

    "Jersey," the gravelly baritone of Her Admiral rumbled though the cellphone's surprisingly high-quality speaker, "Any problems with the fleet?"

    Jersey glanced around, "Musashi's jiggling like you wouldn't fucking believe," said the battleship, shooting a glare at the actively-disinterested Japanese woman, "And she refuses to admit it's a problem. That's about it, sir."

    Williams allowed himself a single gruff chuckle. "She'll learn from your example, commander."

    "I certainly hope so, sir," said Jersey. "What's the, uh… what's the news on- wait, let me tie in the rest of the fleet." Jersey fiddled with her phone for a few seconds, adding everyone else into the call. "There. what's the news with our zoomie friends?"

    "One of the testbeds had its nose blow out," said Williams, "Had to make an emergency landing at Ontario."

    "Damn." Jersey scowled, "And the rest?"

    "Forming up as Bonecrusher flight. Two B-52-Glassnose birds with GPS-guided munitions."

    "Fuck yeah," said Jersey, "Uh… sir."

    "As you were, Commander," said Williams, his tone not quite the stoic rumble it was before. "Our spooks have poured over the latest… Intel from Iku."

    Jersey winced at the thought. Spooks were a strange bunch at the best of times, spending days on end in a tiny windowless room peering at highly classified photographs took a certain kind of person. And they just got a load of strong pornography dropped on their laps. The worrisome thing was Jersey wasn't sure if the porn was the lewd shipgirl pics or ultra-high-resolution images of Abyssal warships. "I'm… sorry, sir."

    "Thanks, Jersey. I'll take what I can get." The Admiral let out a huff, probably while he reached for the appropriate folder, *"They're radiating, but at very low levels. If they've got surface-search radar, it'll be short-ranged and imprecise."

    "Okay," said Jersey, her mind already starting to run war games and scenarios in her head. "What's the weather looking like?"

    "Latest estimates are…" a pause and the sound of rustling papers, "gentle seas, but thick, patchy fog and possible rain squalls."

    "Alright," Jersey nodded, her gaze slowly unfocusing as her conscious slipped back into her CIC. "Alright, I can work with that."

    "Anything else, Commander?"

    "Uh, no sir," said Jersey. "Well…"

    "Yes?"

    "How come future taskforces have such cooler names?" asked the battleship, "Back in my day, that had numbers. And like… maybe a decimal point."

    Williams chuckled, "If I knew, Commander…"

    "Understood sir."

    "Williams out."

    Jersey sighed, glancing over at Musashi, who had her phone all but glued to her ear. "You got all that, I take it?"

    The assembled fleet of Kanmusu offered a ragged chorus of nods.

    "Okay," said Jersey, "Taskforce leads, I want a course that'll put us in combat positions by dawn."

    Musashi smiled, her teeth glinting in a truly predatory display. "We'll attack with the rays of the rising sun."

    "No," said Jersey, her icy gaze hardening to steel, "At dawn."

    "Here we go," said Hoel, handing Mutsu a five dollar bill which the latter promptly stuffed down her top.

    Nagato pretended she hadn't noticed her sister's antics. "And what's the plan once we make contact?"

    Jersey smiled. Then she told them.

    —|—|—

    "Any questions?" asked Jersey, her hands resting on her hips while she awaited input on her plan.

    Musashi offered a solemn nod. "I'm not excited to fight though fog," she said bluntly. "My fire-control range finders are superb, but they require clear line-of-sight to function."

    "Then they ain't so superb," snapped back Jersey. "Radar Master Race," she pointed to her arrays with both hands, "Can't expect the weather to go your way."

    Musashi folded her arms, "And you cannot expect every air-dropped torpedo to behave as… consistently poorly as your mark fourteens." She smirked, her glasses glinting a solid white in the sun as she squeezed her ample torpedo bulges, "Need I remind you that the air will be swarming with torpedo bombers?"

    "Which would be a problem," countered Jersey, "If my AA wasn't god-tier. And even if a fish or two make it to the water," she gave her hips loving pat, "I float like a butterfly, and I can shoot on the move."

    Johnston kinda tuned out after that. The argument quickly got boring for everyone but the two girls involved in it. And the rhythmic bounce of Musashi's… musashies was just too entrancing to be around. Bounce… Bounce… Bounce… So calming… so much more interesting than listen to the battleships argue.

    Especially when Jersey was so obviously better.
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    Ouch. Condolences on the finger. A sprained anything has to suck.

    And double ouch for Musashi. One day she will come to realize that while it may look cool and distracting and draw all sort of attention to those 18.1's, the pain just isn't worth it. At least in combat. XD

    Good chapter though. The battle draws near and anticipation is skyrocketing faster than Iku's libido. Poor Nagato. She's not even phased anymore. She needs hamster time. And maybe a DD to cuddle, one who is willing to keep silence about Nagamon's existence for the sake of the Nagato's sanity. Not Johnston though. She'll just be drooling over those guns. She's already distracted enough between Jersey and Musashi and something sane to cuddle is what Nagato needs. XD

    Maybe that's why she has the hamster...

    And there has to be some sort of significance to the 2262 Jersey's using on her phone. I'm just completely spacig on it though and Google is not helping my sleep addled brain.
    Always Late said:
    I do, I do, I do!
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    I wanna know!
    Always Late said:
    Trace, you seem to have forgotten the unspoken rule about destroyers. Destroyers are, mostly, teenagers. Sex is all they think about.:p Their fairy crews certainly don't help things.
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    Destroyers may not be lewded upon. But they sure as hell can lewd on anyone they want to. XD
    MadGreenSon said:
    Looking at the people who have reincarnated as shippeople, it's not just a name thing. It's all people who not only had ships named after them, they had shipgirls as part of their lives and souls (try and tell me that love doesn't make someone a part of your soul) well before they died. One way or another, all of the new/old ships had shipgirls as important parts of their lives for a long time. Due to Jane, we can see that it's not just a romantic thing, so barring finding a way to properly test the hypothesis, the best assumption is that love, and lots of it, is what made the whole spaceshipgirls thing possible.
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    Damn... That's pretty deep. As in genuinely insightful. Well said.
     
    Ryand-Smith said:
    Man, with Jersey and Mushashi here, I'm going to resist the urge to go full shipyard and say "Why not upgrade to radar, AND CIWS. That way you both can argue about who is better.
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    Cause CWIS are junk for prolong AA work?

    Three one second bursts before a twenty minute reload time.
    While the quad 40s you can keep feeding ammo until the barrels are red.

    And will someone please Gibb slap Johston?

    And Hoel last five bucks.
     
    62 is Jersey's hull number don't know what the 22 is
     
    I have to question whether Musashi would get back pains. She has the hull to support that superstructure after all...
     
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