- Location
- Somewhere
So do I. Go someplace where it's properly stored in casks. They don't add all that extra CO2
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
Objectively? I would argue for subjectively. At best.
All of my favorite alcoholic drinks are dark beers. The only kind of wines I can stand at all are pinot noir and pinot grigio (sp?) Midori, Kahlua, Jaegermeister, and good peppermint schnapps make some fine mixed drinks. (not all together.) I used to appreciate malts, until new years 1999, and even today, after nearly killing myself with some unknown quantity of scotch and whiskey far in excess of a liter that night, I still get nauseous when I smell a malt of any type.
Since that day in 1999, a heavy night drinking for me is three beers, and I can count the number of times I've done that on my fingers - and I only have nine of those left.
- Location
- Beyond the Unknowable Veil
No, beer is the root of all evil.
Here is the proof. You drink beer, and you lost important bits of your body! See?! See?!
- Location
- Canada
I was gonna make a joke about root beer but couldn't think of a good one.
- Location
- Somewhere
- Location
- Nowhere
Technically, alcohol *is* a solution...
- Location
- Minot, North Dakota
Pringles walks over with her glass:
sees what they're drinking and has an apoplectic fit over the horsepiss they're allowing themselves to get drunk on...
Pennsy: Don't come to our table and throw a tantrum! This is a table for battleships.
Yamashiro: Yes, shoo-shoo-shoo, little cruiser bote.
Jersey: And take your self-righteous, judgy beer with you!
Nagato: There are just no standards of propriety anymore.
Musashi: (passing out large glasses) As promised, the perfect beer, cheap and plenty of it! Just what battleships need!
Pringles: Barbarians! Perhaps the submarines can appreciate true craftsmanship!
YuffieK
(Verified Ninja Princess)
Nope. Subthieves are basically pirates. They will be hanging out with Kidd and her rum.
- Location
- USA
I want at least one group of American ships to swear by either whiskey or moonshine. Cant figure out which tho.
- Location
- Minot, North Dakota
Confederate blockade runners and commerce raiders?
Honestly, I can think of individual ships (summoned and not yet summoned) that would be whiskey or shine drinkers, but not an entire group.
Maybe dreadnoughts or pre-dreads?
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Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Meh, I'm a rum guy... or vodka. Sometimes though I enjoyed a nice ice wine or ice cider.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
Definitely Tennessee. Maybe West Virginia and North Carolina. Not too many Southern state-named battleships.
At least, with a reputation for whiskey and shine.
- Location
- Minot, North Dakota
Maybe Arkansas or Alabama.
YuffieK
(Verified Ninja Princess)
If the US gets a few more subthieves (Stingray or Pampanito for example) then they might choose whiskey over rum, simply because it lets them
ijnfleetadmiral
CinC Rengo Kanmusutai
- Location
- Admiral's Bridge, HIJMS Kongo
Add to that:
BBs Mississippi and Tennessee
CAs Tuscaloosa and Macon
CLs Memphis, Savannah, Nashville, Atlanta, Birmingham, Mobile, Biloxi, Vicksburg and Little Rock
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
I wonder how many UK ships over the years have been named for cities famous for whiskey or scotch.
- Location
- Nowhere
Let it be known, that Destroyers shall NEVER hear the words "Food Wars"
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- Location
- USA
Too late, Iku is being hunted as we speak.
- Location
- Minot, North Dakota
Iku runs to find and hide behind Arizona. The Taffies and DesDiv 6 are in hot pursuit.
Arizona: OK, this has gone on long enough. Put those oranges down.
An orange goes splat against Ari's face.
Pennsy: That's what happens when you grant asylum to a lewdmarine.
Pennsy is then struck from behind by a watermelon. Half of it stays on her head like a Roman helmet.
She turns and faces the destroyers.
Pennsy: Who did it?! Who threw this watermelon at me!?
The destroyers start realizing Pennsy isn't seeing the humor, and then realize Pennsy and Ari have the only doors blocked.
Pennsy looks at Ari, and a humorless smile spreads across her face.
Pennsy: I guess maybe we had that coming. Maybe you owe us that for picking on how you dress, and correcting your behavior on patrol.
The Taffies are urgently texting Jersey, Mutsu, Sammy, anyone who might help them. DesDiv six is circled up facing the Standards.
Pennsy: Well, you know what you have coming? Twenty four....fourteen inch....CUSTARD PIES!!
Pennsy and Ari begin laughing maniacally and throwing extra large pies at the destroyers.
As they leave the building, the destroyers are covered from head to toe with custard and pie crust.
As she lay on the floor, Johnston gets a panicked call from New Jersey.
Johnston: I've been slimed! I feel so weird!
Akatsuki: Lemon...I don't like lemon....
Arizona: Don't ever have a food war with Standards. We have the best stoves and galleys in the Navy!
esseresse
R'lyth Power Make-up
- Location
- divorceville, state of depression
- Pronouns
- They/Her
JerJer Binks:
She'd been beautiful. As beautiful as however-fucking-many tons of steel and fire and slopped-on gray paint could be. Now she was just… a stain. A fucking… sucking chest wound bleeding inky-black fuel oil into the Delaware, a casket of metal scrap twisted into a display almost as macabre as the unholy… things that came from the abyss to gut her from the depths.
"Hey, Youssa be Professor Crowning?" a voice sounded from somewhere over his shoulder, a smooth female contralto, with just a note of tender concern.
He ran a hand though his long, graying hair, taking a second to compose himself before… had to be one of his students. "Yeah, uh… if you're looking for an extension-"
"Meessa no want dat," the girl leaned around, her weight on one foot as she let herself fall sideways against the waterfront railing. She was… well, the kind of girl that makes American-lit professors wary to be alone with. Easily taller than him, even leaning on the railing, she had the thick-thighed legs of a cross-country runner. Legs that were… rather overly displayed in her very short running shorts. How she wasn't freezing in the brisk mid-autumn breeze was beyond him.
"Then, uh…" Crowning locked his eyes on hers. Or tried to, but her oversized aviator shades only showed his own haggered reflection. "What exactly are you doing?"
"Messa no know" the girl shrugged, her navy-blue puffer vest spreading around her… generous bust. If she caught his errant glare, she didn't show any signs of it. "Meessa wanta make sure you okieday."
Crowning turned back to the railing, staring at the charred corpse of the once-great museum ship New Jersey. "Attack hit you pretty hard?"
"Youssa be saying dat," the girl spun the other way, resting her back against the railing as she stared at the city skyline. Her strawberry-blond braid cascading out of the navy-blue baseball cap she wore backwards.
"I was supposed to be there, you know," said Crowning, barely registering that he'd let the words slip out until the girl's steeply-canted eyebrow sneaked up her brow.
"On Jersey?" she asked, idly fiddling with the orange-foam headphones cradling her neck. "whatsa beessa Lit prof doing on dee battleship?" a teasing smile graced her snow-white face.
Crowning nodded, tracing the wires of her headphones down to the… was that a walkman on her hip? He didn't risk looking longer to verify it. Not with hips like that in shorts like…. that."Navy's trying to summon her-well, at this point they'd take a freighter if they could get it. I think they were just throwing everything they could at the problem." He smiled in spite of himself, letting out a little self-conscious cough. "Saw Victory waving her sword at some… witches, I think who tried to mess with her tea leaves. I actually- the day of the attack, I was supposed to be trying something new."
The girl dipped her head, lazily waving one hand at him to get him to continue, the three watches around her wrist glinting in the afternoon sun.
"Wanted to bake her an apple pie. Figured… her spirit's an American, maybe that'd coax her out."
"Meessa be wanting pie now" said the girl, patting her belly with a frustrated grunt. "sure you no work?"
"How could it?" Crowning scuffed his shoe against the concrete. "Car broke down on the way there… I just barely made it there to see her get shot."
"Torpedoed," said the girl, her voice suddenly curt and clipped.
"Pardon?"
"There beeing an torpedo," said the girl, pushing her vest aside and pulling up the hem of her shirt, exposing a mottled bruise on her muscled belly. "Right theresa."
Crowning's eyes went wide.
"youssa so sloww," the girl smirked as she spun her hat around, letting Crowning read the proud golden embroidery above the bill. "USS New Jersey: BB-62."
"You're-"
"Jersey, yeah." the girl—or rather New fucking Jersey—offered a cocky grin. "Now where's Messsa fucking pie?"
She'd been beautiful. As beautiful as however-fucking-many tons of steel and fire and slopped-on gray paint could be. Now she was just… a stain. A fucking… sucking chest wound bleeding inky-black fuel oil into the Delaware, a casket of metal scrap twisted into a display almost as macabre as the unholy… things that came from the abyss to gut her from the depths.
"Hey, Youssa be Professor Crowning?" a voice sounded from somewhere over his shoulder, a smooth female contralto, with just a note of tender concern.
He ran a hand though his long, graying hair, taking a second to compose himself before… had to be one of his students. "Yeah, uh… if you're looking for an extension-"
"Meessa no want dat," the girl leaned around, her weight on one foot as she let herself fall sideways against the waterfront railing. She was… well, the kind of girl that makes American-lit professors wary to be alone with. Easily taller than him, even leaning on the railing, she had the thick-thighed legs of a cross-country runner. Legs that were… rather overly displayed in her very short running shorts. How she wasn't freezing in the brisk mid-autumn breeze was beyond him.
"Then, uh…" Crowning locked his eyes on hers. Or tried to, but her oversized aviator shades only showed his own haggered reflection. "What exactly are you doing?"
"Messa no know" the girl shrugged, her navy-blue puffer vest spreading around her… generous bust. If she caught his errant glare, she didn't show any signs of it. "Meessa wanta make sure you okieday."
Crowning turned back to the railing, staring at the charred corpse of the once-great museum ship New Jersey. "Attack hit you pretty hard?"
"Youssa be saying dat," the girl spun the other way, resting her back against the railing as she stared at the city skyline. Her strawberry-blond braid cascading out of the navy-blue baseball cap she wore backwards.
"I was supposed to be there, you know," said Crowning, barely registering that he'd let the words slip out until the girl's steeply-canted eyebrow sneaked up her brow.
"On Jersey?" she asked, idly fiddling with the orange-foam headphones cradling her neck. "whatsa beessa Lit prof doing on dee battleship?" a teasing smile graced her snow-white face.
Crowning nodded, tracing the wires of her headphones down to the… was that a walkman on her hip? He didn't risk looking longer to verify it. Not with hips like that in shorts like…. that."Navy's trying to summon her-well, at this point they'd take a freighter if they could get it. I think they were just throwing everything they could at the problem." He smiled in spite of himself, letting out a little self-conscious cough. "Saw Victory waving her sword at some… witches, I think who tried to mess with her tea leaves. I actually- the day of the attack, I was supposed to be trying something new."
The girl dipped her head, lazily waving one hand at him to get him to continue, the three watches around her wrist glinting in the afternoon sun.
"Wanted to bake her an apple pie. Figured… her spirit's an American, maybe that'd coax her out."
"Meessa be wanting pie now" said the girl, patting her belly with a frustrated grunt. "sure you no work?"
"How could it?" Crowning scuffed his shoe against the concrete. "Car broke down on the way there… I just barely made it there to see her get shot."
"Torpedoed," said the girl, her voice suddenly curt and clipped.
"Pardon?"
"There beeing an torpedo," said the girl, pushing her vest aside and pulling up the hem of her shirt, exposing a mottled bruise on her muscled belly. "Right theresa."
Crowning's eyes went wide.
"youssa so sloww," the girl smirked as she spun her hat around, letting Crowning read the proud golden embroidery above the bill. "USS New Jersey: BB-62."
"You're-"
"Jersey, yeah." the girl—or rather New fucking Jersey—offered a cocky grin. "Now where's Messsa fucking pie?"
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
*Blinks*
…
*Slowly holds up vial of Holy Water*
…
*Slowly holds up vial of Holy Water*
- Location
- Plato's Cave
I raise you a gallon jug.
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
I believe someone is testing to see if theJMPer is watching the thread still.
- Location
- Beyond the Unknowable Veil
Isn't he on a long suspension? I'll go check once my orbital doom weapons are ready.
Edit: yep, banned. And the laser sats are targeting Jer Jer Binks now. The nukes are in flight, and the railguns are charging. Did I miss anything?
Edit: yep, banned. And the laser sats are targeting Jer Jer Binks now. The nukes are in flight, and the railguns are charging. Did I miss anything?
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Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It was six months and started...two or three months ago.