Axslashel
I am a pessimist not a realist.
- Location
- Land of the Midnight Sun
I am not sure if this is a typo or not. It fits too well.
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
- Location
- Canada
Last edited:
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Oh yeah, forgot about that.
Late to the party
- Location
- 'Murica
"No," the word rattled out on the back of a horrified gasp. The raider princess was frozen in the blood-choked waters of her birthing dock, staring in eyeless horror at the unthinking massacre befalling her demons. Her fleet was burning. Her fortress, her precious island was desecrated by traitors from beyond the grave.
"No!" She roared in fury, carving deep bloody ribbons down new newborn's back with her massive unthinking talons. How dare they devastate her island like this! How dare they bring down the whirlwind upon her throne. She arched her back, screaming in rage through gnashing teeth. Her newborn all but fell of her breast, its still-soft talons tearing into her pallid flesh in a desperate attempt to keep its position at her icy teat. "Stop them!" she roared, thrusting a talon at the hateful red-marked airplanes systematically obliterating all she'd worked so hard to build with cold, uncaring efficiency.
"Sister!" She heard the snow queen's voice a thousand miles away, too enraged to to devote more than a fraction of her attention to even her beloved sister.
"They're destroying my throne!" Roared the princess with righteous hatred. How dare they stoop so low!
"Sister!" A loud crash of metal brought her back to her senses. Her sister was standing over her, hip-deep in the wine-dark waters of the birthing dock with her eyeless face twisted into a look of pure… terror. Yes, it was terror. Not hatred, not anger, but pure untempered fear. "We must leave now."
"But," The princess glanced at the demon still greedily nursing at her breast. The last demon she still had under her command. The last of her once-grand armada.
"Leave it!" The snow queen grabbed her sister by the arm, hauling her out of the dock with all the power her turbines could manage. "We can't let anything slow us down!"
The princess glanced at her demon. The fruit of her womb that'd she'd birthed mere hours before. The last of her children still above the waves. How could she leave it? She was a princess, and that nobility demanded an entourage. A fleet to follow her every command. "My fleet—"
The snow queen wheeled around. Shoving the demon into the water without a thought, she grabbed her sister's eyeless face with both massive talons and hauled it close for a long, wet kiss. Her bosom swelled against the princess' and for the briefest of heartbeats the hell around them faded to nothing. A moment later, the snow queen pulled away, her chest heaving with hot, desperate breaths as a single strand of slowly-freezing saliva linked the royal sisters. "I can't loose you," she confessed. "Not again."
The princess nodded, her last demon vanishing from her thoughts like smoke before a great wind. "Of course," She shoved her demon from her chest with one hand, holding it beneath the water until its desperate attempts to return to claw back to its mother stilled while she buttoned her greatcoat up with the other.
The two battleships steamed for the mouth of the harbor, screws beating with desperate fury as they shouldered through ice-choked waters. But in the back of her mind, the princess knew it was futile. Birthing such a grand and glorious armada—let alone feeding her newborns and their crews—had exhausted her. Her bunkers were all but depleted, and even if her sister was willing to share what supplies she had… where would they go?
"The Forsaken Empress," said her sister, clearly working through the same thoughts herself. "We got to her."
The princess shot her sister a look. The empress was a myth, a legend spoken of in hushed tones even by her fellow princesses and queens. But… her sister seemed convinced. Still, the princess scowled at her charts, measuring the great distance from her island throne to the empress' mythical lair. "That's three thousand miles way."
"We'll make it," said the snow queen.
"If we do," gasped the princess, "She can't—"
"She does," said the snow queen. "And more."
Under normal circumstances, she'd appalled at such a blatant display of unalloyed emotion by one of the Queen's own battleships. Doubly so now that her task-force contained Achilles from New Zealand and a smattering of the seemingly endless tide of destroyers American admirals couldn't give away fast enough. It was critical that a lady of war set a proper example for the colonials, especially impressionable young ships like the Fletchers after all.
But this wasn't any normal circumstance. The Americans and Japanese had brought the almighty's own sledgehammer down on the demon that'd haunted her dreams for months. Bismark, or some shadowy echo of her, was running scared.
"Miss Hood?" Achilles smirked at the towering—and normally oh-so-regal—battlecruiser. It was funny to see the pride of the Royal Navy let royal mask slip a bit, but the cruiser didn't judge her for it one bit. For every man, woman, and ship in the Royal Navy, today was a good day.
"She's running!" Hood grabbed Achilles with by the shoulders. "She's running!" Before the cruiser could react, Hood pulled her in for a sloppy kiss square on the lips. Achilles was quite sure she'd still be blushing when she finally went home to New Zealand.
"Which ones!" demanded Prinz Eugen over the radio. The heavy cruiser's accent was even thicker than usual, and so bloodthirsty it sounded almost draconic over the crackling feed. Jersey couldn't blame her. If those had been American ships, she would've been beyond insane with rage.
"The queen," said Shinano, "and her queen."
"If we close the range," said Prinz Eugen desperately, "We could—"
"No." Alaska's voice was quiet, calm, and utterly unquestionable. Prinz Eugen might be an overbuilt cruiser with a bustline that would've punched the London Naval Treaty's one-way ticked to a padded cell, but Alaska was nearly twice her weight.
"But—" Prinz Eugen's voice cracked in desperate rage.
"Listen to 'laska," ordered Jersey. "You're in no shape to engage a heavy. Shadow them on radar only."
"Copy," said Alaska. It took Prinz Eugen a moment longer to signal her acknowledgement.
"Jersey," Shinano's voice was quizzical. "There's…"
"What?" barked the Iowa.
"I don't… there's something in the water," said Shinano. "At the eastern end of battleship row. It's… too thick with oil and ice for me to… I think it's a ship."
"And?" said Jersey, her voice taut with… she didn't even know. Worry, hope? Somewhere in-between?
"The water's too murky for me to see," said Shinano. "But it's moving south—south-west. Fast. Maybe… thirty, thirty-five knots?"
Jersey felt a knot tie in her stomach. Thirty-five knots? It was just an estimate, an estimate from planes orbiting high over a running battle looking through murky oil-stained water. But still… thirty-five knots. "Ju—" Jersey felt her voice crack. "Just the one?"
Shinano nodded. "Ye—no. No, there's two. Definitely two of them. Going for the surface."
Jersey breathed a prayer to anyone who might be listening, hoping against hope with each nervous breath. "Please," she muttered. "Shina, what are they… do you have an ID?"
"They're breaching the surface," said Shinano. And then she just squealed with joy for almost a minute straight. Her hands balled up into fists that she pumped furiously in triumph.
"Are they!" Jersey demanded, a smile on her face already.
"Yes!" said Shinano. "Yes! Yes! Two Iowas!"
"Ha!" Jersey was too happy to even curse. She threw her fist in the air and screamed to the sky. Her sisters were back! Back at last! "Mo!" She pressed two fingers to her ear. "Mo, Wisky, are you there?"
"Jerjer, good to hear your voice again," crackled a smokey voice as smooth and dark as warm molasses.
"Goddammit, Mo!" Jersey said, feeling hot tears flow down her face as she laughed. "You know I hate that name!"
"I'm your little sister," said Mo with an audible smirk. "I don't tease you I could get court martialed."
"She has a point," said Naka
"Naka, shut the fuck up." Jersey aimed an open-palmed swat at the tiny orange thorn in her side. "The adults are talking."
"One of them, at least," cackled Mo. *"We're available for tasking—"
"Both of us," added a second voice. One as powerful and smokey as Mo's or Jersey's, but quieter and ever so slightly more reserved.
"—but we're critically low on fuel right now."
"Don't worry about it," said Jersey. "They can't get far. Support the invasion."
"Wilco, out."
Moments after the channel dropped, Jersey heard all three carriers gape in awe at… something. Their milk-white eyes went as wide as it was possible for a Japanese girl to get, and Kaga—freaking Kaga of all people—almost dropped her bow into the water.
"What was that?" said Akagi with breathless awe.
"That my friend," said Mo, "Is a tomahawk."
"No!" She roared in fury, carving deep bloody ribbons down new newborn's back with her massive unthinking talons. How dare they devastate her island like this! How dare they bring down the whirlwind upon her throne. She arched her back, screaming in rage through gnashing teeth. Her newborn all but fell of her breast, its still-soft talons tearing into her pallid flesh in a desperate attempt to keep its position at her icy teat. "Stop them!" she roared, thrusting a talon at the hateful red-marked airplanes systematically obliterating all she'd worked so hard to build with cold, uncaring efficiency.
"Sister!" She heard the snow queen's voice a thousand miles away, too enraged to to devote more than a fraction of her attention to even her beloved sister.
"They're destroying my throne!" Roared the princess with righteous hatred. How dare they stoop so low!
"Sister!" A loud crash of metal brought her back to her senses. Her sister was standing over her, hip-deep in the wine-dark waters of the birthing dock with her eyeless face twisted into a look of pure… terror. Yes, it was terror. Not hatred, not anger, but pure untempered fear. "We must leave now."
"But," The princess glanced at the demon still greedily nursing at her breast. The last demon she still had under her command. The last of her once-grand armada.
"Leave it!" The snow queen grabbed her sister by the arm, hauling her out of the dock with all the power her turbines could manage. "We can't let anything slow us down!"
The princess glanced at her demon. The fruit of her womb that'd she'd birthed mere hours before. The last of her children still above the waves. How could she leave it? She was a princess, and that nobility demanded an entourage. A fleet to follow her every command. "My fleet—"
The snow queen wheeled around. Shoving the demon into the water without a thought, she grabbed her sister's eyeless face with both massive talons and hauled it close for a long, wet kiss. Her bosom swelled against the princess' and for the briefest of heartbeats the hell around them faded to nothing. A moment later, the snow queen pulled away, her chest heaving with hot, desperate breaths as a single strand of slowly-freezing saliva linked the royal sisters. "I can't loose you," she confessed. "Not again."
The princess nodded, her last demon vanishing from her thoughts like smoke before a great wind. "Of course," She shoved her demon from her chest with one hand, holding it beneath the water until its desperate attempts to return to claw back to its mother stilled while she buttoned her greatcoat up with the other.
The two battleships steamed for the mouth of the harbor, screws beating with desperate fury as they shouldered through ice-choked waters. But in the back of her mind, the princess knew it was futile. Birthing such a grand and glorious armada—let alone feeding her newborns and their crews—had exhausted her. Her bunkers were all but depleted, and even if her sister was willing to share what supplies she had… where would they go?
"The Forsaken Empress," said her sister, clearly working through the same thoughts herself. "We got to her."
The princess shot her sister a look. The empress was a myth, a legend spoken of in hushed tones even by her fellow princesses and queens. But… her sister seemed convinced. Still, the princess scowled at her charts, measuring the great distance from her island throne to the empress' mythical lair. "That's three thousand miles way."
"We'll make it," said the snow queen.
"If we do," gasped the princess, "She can't—"
"She does," said the snow queen. "And more."
—|—|—
On the other side of the world, a tall, slim battleship named Hood briefly shifted into ultrasonic and nearly crushed her phone in her hand. "Yes!" she roared, her natural Scottish brogue overpowering the upper-class English accent that normally flavored her curt diction.Under normal circumstances, she'd appalled at such a blatant display of unalloyed emotion by one of the Queen's own battleships. Doubly so now that her task-force contained Achilles from New Zealand and a smattering of the seemingly endless tide of destroyers American admirals couldn't give away fast enough. It was critical that a lady of war set a proper example for the colonials, especially impressionable young ships like the Fletchers after all.
But this wasn't any normal circumstance. The Americans and Japanese had brought the almighty's own sledgehammer down on the demon that'd haunted her dreams for months. Bismark, or some shadowy echo of her, was running scared.
"Miss Hood?" Achilles smirked at the towering—and normally oh-so-regal—battlecruiser. It was funny to see the pride of the Royal Navy let royal mask slip a bit, but the cruiser didn't judge her for it one bit. For every man, woman, and ship in the Royal Navy, today was a good day.
"She's running!" Hood grabbed Achilles with by the shoulders. "She's running!" Before the cruiser could react, Hood pulled her in for a sloppy kiss square on the lips. Achilles was quite sure she'd still be blushing when she finally went home to New Zealand.
—|—|—
"Two ships," said Shinano. Her voice was quiet, but the natural thundering timber of the littlest Yamato boomed over Akagi and Kaga's running comentary. Her milky-eyed stare wandered in the general direction of New Jersey, and the American super-heavy could tell Shinano was splitting off a small fragment of herself to keep with her body while the majority of her mind was in the skies above Pearl. "Heading for the mouth of the harbor.""Which ones!" demanded Prinz Eugen over the radio. The heavy cruiser's accent was even thicker than usual, and so bloodthirsty it sounded almost draconic over the crackling feed. Jersey couldn't blame her. If those had been American ships, she would've been beyond insane with rage.
"The queen," said Shinano, "and her queen."
"If we close the range," said Prinz Eugen desperately, "We could—"
"No." Alaska's voice was quiet, calm, and utterly unquestionable. Prinz Eugen might be an overbuilt cruiser with a bustline that would've punched the London Naval Treaty's one-way ticked to a padded cell, but Alaska was nearly twice her weight.
"But—" Prinz Eugen's voice cracked in desperate rage.
"Listen to 'laska," ordered Jersey. "You're in no shape to engage a heavy. Shadow them on radar only."
"Copy," said Alaska. It took Prinz Eugen a moment longer to signal her acknowledgement.
"Jersey," Shinano's voice was quizzical. "There's…"
"What?" barked the Iowa.
"I don't… there's something in the water," said Shinano. "At the eastern end of battleship row. It's… too thick with oil and ice for me to… I think it's a ship."
"And?" said Jersey, her voice taut with… she didn't even know. Worry, hope? Somewhere in-between?
"The water's too murky for me to see," said Shinano. "But it's moving south—south-west. Fast. Maybe… thirty, thirty-five knots?"
Jersey felt a knot tie in her stomach. Thirty-five knots? It was just an estimate, an estimate from planes orbiting high over a running battle looking through murky oil-stained water. But still… thirty-five knots. "Ju—" Jersey felt her voice crack. "Just the one?"
Shinano nodded. "Ye—no. No, there's two. Definitely two of them. Going for the surface."
Jersey breathed a prayer to anyone who might be listening, hoping against hope with each nervous breath. "Please," she muttered. "Shina, what are they… do you have an ID?"
"They're breaching the surface," said Shinano. And then she just squealed with joy for almost a minute straight. Her hands balled up into fists that she pumped furiously in triumph.
"Are they!" Jersey demanded, a smile on her face already.
"Yes!" said Shinano. "Yes! Yes! Two Iowas!"
"Ha!" Jersey was too happy to even curse. She threw her fist in the air and screamed to the sky. Her sisters were back! Back at last! "Mo!" She pressed two fingers to her ear. "Mo, Wisky, are you there?"
"Jerjer, good to hear your voice again," crackled a smokey voice as smooth and dark as warm molasses.
"Goddammit, Mo!" Jersey said, feeling hot tears flow down her face as she laughed. "You know I hate that name!"
"I'm your little sister," said Mo with an audible smirk. "I don't tease you I could get court martialed."
"She has a point," said Naka
"Naka, shut the fuck up." Jersey aimed an open-palmed swat at the tiny orange thorn in her side. "The adults are talking."
"One of them, at least," cackled Mo. *"We're available for tasking—"
"Both of us," added a second voice. One as powerful and smokey as Mo's or Jersey's, but quieter and ever so slightly more reserved.
"—but we're critically low on fuel right now."
"Don't worry about it," said Jersey. "They can't get far. Support the invasion."
"Wilco, out."
Moments after the channel dropped, Jersey heard all three carriers gape in awe at… something. Their milk-white eyes went as wide as it was possible for a Japanese girl to get, and Kaga—freaking Kaga of all people—almost dropped her bow into the water.
"What was that?" said Akagi with breathless awe.
"That my friend," said Mo, "Is a tomahawk."
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
That... was a very quick jumpcut. One moment stuff's launching, the next the battle's 75% done.
With their apparently now-nonexistent guns? Uh huh. Sure.
Eh, at least it's not a Dambuster raid.
Is one little baby really that big an issue?
Sure, why the hell not throw incest in for pure shock value. It's not like anyone gives a fuck.
Infanticide, that has a bit more justification. It's not like a mother leaving a child behind, or killing it, due to a lack of food is unheard of.
Typo aside, I wonder if this "Forsaken Empress" is Abyssal Enterprise. Can't be Yams, since she's back apparently.
Three thousand miles... Midway? No, they already did that. Is this a Ryloth reference?
Eh. Kinda expected.
Wait, ship or shipgirl?
Eh?
... well half of that lacked forshadowing. Or it's been so long IRL the foreshadowing's all but forgotten.
... I'm OK with this. Jersey could use an ego-deflator every now and again.
Well, time for the Bisko and Tirp to get ganked.
... OK, I can swallow the John Paul Jones schtick if you twist my arm, but shipgirls with missiles that ignore the Abyssal Bullshit Effect? That's the point I start asking pointed questions.
Unless Mo's using an actual melee weapon. That's different and much less of an issue.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Um... I don't quite get what that's supposed to mean. Is the mention of Mo having radar supposed to justify BS-free missiles? Or the presence of Cheese Weeb? What bearing does Mo moving at full speed have on anything?
Seriously, I am very confused by your comment.
Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
I think the ground forces took them out?
Axslashel
I am a pessimist not a realist.
- Location
- Land of the Midnight Sun
Plausible, there was a line about the entire island not yet having fallen. Though you would expect someone to sound some kind of alarm.
Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
I'm not saying it makes total sense, I was just offering what seemed like the explanation from my reading.
Shinano referred to SEAL teams being sent ahead to take out the flak guns.
On a different point? Has "Forsaken Empress" been mentioned before?
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
*inhales*
*exhales*
I'mma set aside Wis being present making no sense. For now.
I'mma set aside the "Incest is Wincest" tastelessness. For now.
I'm just rather upset that this missile conversation is one we're having to do. I'm not upset at you, that's more in the vein of disappointment, I'm upset that this issue has been apparently left out for months by the SB thread.
The issue with missiles is that they render every Kanmusu and Abyssal irrelevant. Shipgirls make ammo by eating. So all Mo needs to do now to single-handily win the Abyssal war is just sail to every confirmed Abyssal base, and all future task forces that emerge, and banhammer them out of existence. Given Mo has the the most advanced missiles ever fitted to a ship, Tomahawk or otherwise, and the fact no Abyssal has missiles means she's not only killing them far beyond the ability of any ship or plane to respond, but she can project power in all three dimensions across a significant area. And all anyone needs to do is follow behind her with a big 'ole oil tanker stuffed with food, and shovel it down Mo's throat. Instant Macross Missile Massacre. Even if the Abyssal magic somehow still interferes with the guidance and targeting, Mo can just dumb-fire them as rockets or guide them until they go terminal, and she'll hit eventually. The weight of fire of infinite ammo is, well, infinite. And if the Abyssals come out with a ship that can retaliate with missiles? Well, then that just makes that individual/class the only other thing that matters. Kanmusu can't beat it because they are on the other end of the same problem Mo poses. And the conventional military's been so utterly mauled they can't do standup fights anymore, so they can't help even if there isn't some magic that makes the Abyssal missiles and ships hard to hit. And any Abyssal pulling a diversion tactic just runs into, no hyperbole, every other Kanmusu in the ocean, because they have nothing else to do.
Now, barring any explanation, you just busted your own world's logic open. Gone full Rule Of Cool. Done a Reki Kawahara.
But you've been going forward with the story for months. You're not a fool or a talentless hack. You should know what you're doing, and how this all plays out. So I'm going to ask for an answer. No "But that's a spoiler" nonsense, no "I do wat I wanna" faux-tantrums, no vague non-answers, no Watsonian distraction. I'm asking for a complete and straightforward answer to these two questions:
What purpose does giving Missouri missiles serve? Why does their addition not render all other Kanmusu useless?
- Location
- 'Murica
She has missiles because they're cool. But Wisky and Mo are also the only shipgirls with missiles. Nobody else has them, and nobody else can datalink with them. Mo and Wisky's missiles are only useful if they personally can see their targets. They're a useful complement to their super-sixteens, but not a replacement.
- Location
- San Diego
So, we have Missouri, Wisconson, and New Jersey. Bloody hell. that is a lot of fire power. Too bad they will likely be sent to other Areas of Operation, to help areas that need the help of Battleship Class weapon systems.
Of course now there are TWO MORE Bottomless pits to feed. Suddenly that EXACT food ratio has just gone up in smoke.
Still, Tomohawk's. The game has changed, but this Forsaken Princess, (And its probably not going to be The Forsaken Princess from SongDog13's story on Spacebattles.) makes me wonder just what she would have in place, but she is seriously going to be a POWERFUL being reguardless if she is spoken even in hushed tones by Abyssal Queens. I wonder what she has in her fleet/Drydock/Base of Operations.
I look forward to the party that is going to happen in America when 3 of the Greatest Battleships ever put to sea by America have returned.
Of course now there are TWO MORE Bottomless pits to feed. Suddenly that EXACT food ratio has just gone up in smoke.
Still, Tomohawk's. The game has changed, but this Forsaken Princess, (And its probably not going to be The Forsaken Princess from SongDog13's story on Spacebattles.) makes me wonder just what she would have in place, but she is seriously going to be a POWERFUL being reguardless if she is spoken even in hushed tones by Abyssal Queens. I wonder what she has in her fleet/Drydock/Base of Operations.
I look forward to the party that is going to happen in America when 3 of the Greatest Battleships ever put to sea by America have returned.
- Location
- San Diego
my mistake. Well. I suddenly need that "EVERYONE OUT OF THE UNIVERSE, NOW!" picture.
This is going to not end well for anyone by the looks of it.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
If they're limited to the Mark One Eyeball, rather than radar, that means BVR isn't a thing. So the super-sixteens technically have longer range, as the curvature of the earth is accounted for by their gunnery computers. That is certainly an interesting way to play it, as it makes the missiles more of a close-range gutpunch. And the infinite ammo exploit is... well, infinite ammo at any range is a bit of an issue, but the outranging by advanced battleship guns makes the support ship the technique relies on very vulnerable. So one could make the argument it's balanced at best, or not worth it at worse.
Now then. About that Abyssal Incest... was the fanservice kiss the best/only thing you could come up with?
- Location
- 'Murica
...you thought that was fanservice?
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Given the detail you lavished on it?
Yes it fucking is.
Like I said before, it doesn't have a narrative or character purpose, like the baby being drowned immediately after. There are alternate ways of expressing intense familial affection affection that don't involve lust, such as hugs or forehead touching. Ergo, the only purpose for this amount of detail being put into incest, and the fact it's incest at all, is "because they're cool", as you so often say. And by cool, I mean sexy.
- Location
- Somewhere
Yeah, I assumed that was supposed to be squick.
Axslashel
I am a pessimist not a realist.
- Location
- Land of the Midnight Sun
For me it shows that Snow Queen really cares for Raider princess but in a twisted way. It also show the Snow Queens manipulative side in how far she is willing to go to keep Raider Princess her peronal possession even though it goes against Raider Princess's wishes. I can't really put it into words but I also think there is something to be said about them thinking that love equals sexual desire that really shows their immaturity/mental deficiency (really unsure about if these are the right words). In a way they are similar to New Jersay and Musashi's relationship except in their case it also includes destructive violence.