Coincidences occur all the time, and are usually inconsequential. For Prinz Eugen, coincidences are the order of the day, especially when one results in her waking up to a world that's very different from 1946. Turns out recycling is more than just environmentally friendly.
Cape Name? I'm Named After a Person (Kantai Collection/Worm AU Crossover)
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Chapter 1: Launch
LegoKitsune
Professional Lurker
So at the suggestion of @Engineer455 , I'm going to be crossposting this story from SB to here as well. I'm not as active here as elsewhere, so I might not see any comments as quickly.
As for the story, this is an AU of Worm, even if many of those elements won't be readily apparent, or even directly relevant to the main plot. And while Taylor is a major reason these events start, the main focus of the story is going to be on Prinz Eugen.
Admiral Hipper class heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen, named after Prince Eugene of Savoy.
USS Prinz Eugen anchored at Bikini Atoll
Prinz Eugen in Kantai Collection
Chapter 1: Launch
Somewhere far away, a steel door slammed shut.
At least, that was what it seemed like. Maybe it was onboard? No, nobody had been aboard her hull since…
But now there were more sounds. Scratching on metal, a girl crying, calling for help. Was there someone trapped? Where? Could she help them? She had to at least try, right? It was a ship's duty to at least attempt to assist those in need. But how? Could she move? Maybe try and reach out…
And with that, Prinz Eugen was on the water once more.
Returning to the living world after who knows how long seemed like a momentous occasion which deserved inspiring words which would be known by many future generations. What left the German's mouth though was, "Where is my hull?" Nearly everything else felt like it was where it should be, including most of the components that had been stripped from her when she came to the US. Her ammunition, fuel, and food stores all seemed full as well, which was a welcome feeling when one was in unknown waters. The exception to this was her floatplane hangar, which currently contained only one aircraft, instead of the three she normally carried.
The feeling that there was someone trapped hadn't gone away though. Focusing on the sensation, it almost felt like it was coming from two places at once: Her number one gun in Anton turret, and also... Flashes of a lit hallway, a door opening, and something sticky assaulted her senses. Eugen found herself gagging, whether at what she had 'seen' or whatever allowed her to do that, she didn't know. "Not doing that again unless I absolutely have to. I hope whatever that was means they made it out."
Her immediate concerns allayed, the heavy cruiser's next task was to take stock of her current location. The sky overhead was a dull grey, with light flurries of snow drifting down onto her cap and turrets. Beneath her feet, the water gently rippled with smaller ice chunks mixed in, suggesting she was currently in a harbor. Looking at her surroundings though, harbor probably wasn't the right word anymore. Harbor suggested a safe place for ships to moor, a place where young sailors could go ashore and relax, where older ships would look at their juniors and silently pass judgement on crews based on their ship's condition.
Here, ships of various types were sitting half sunk in what must have been at one point in time a thriving port. Rotted wood pilings and ropes, rusted hulks with broken bridge windows, and buildings which looked like they might collapse at any minute surrounded her. They hadn't been sunk as part of a weapons test like herself, and it was clear that they would never be sent to a scrapyard to act as resources for the next generation. On top of that, beyond the broken ships and buildings, the entire area seemed to exude a sickly feeling, like if one went to sleep, they wouldn't wake up. Despite there being no movement, Prinz Eugen felt as if she was being watched from all sides.
No, harbor definitely wasn't the right description. This place was a mass grave.
"Okay, assuming I can walk around on land and that people can see me now, priority one is figuring out where I am. Once that's done, then we try and get in contact with the US Navy."
In response, a tiny voice came from within her bridge, or was it head now? "Ja ja, ja ja ja ja. Ja ja ja?"
"Because… Because my last commission was with them. And what guarantee is there that a German Navy even exists at this point?"
Another tiny voice piped up, raising another question for her to ponder. "Hey hey hey, hey hey. Hey?"
"Even if there still is one, I don't want to talk to a harbor master of a place like this. Maybe a police station would work better. I might also be able to find out more about whatever that vision was." A chorus of voices, a majority in German, but a sprinkling of American accented English, politely pointed out that without a Captain, Prinz Eugen was in charge of herself, and unless she was unnecessarily putting herself in danger, they would follow her orders.
A plan firmly in place, Prinz Eugen set her engines for 1/4 ahead while keeping an eye out for ice floes and steamed away from the ruined docks into the rest of the unknown bay. Only to slow to a standstill once she laid eyes on the city before her. She was no stranger to tall buildings, she'd seen a few during her time in Boston and Philadelphia, but there were several she could see that were likely taller than her hull was long. And even in the weak light of what she was beginning to recognize as a New England winter, those buildings glimmered as if they were made entirely of glass. The shocked cruiser's eyes were torn away from the cityscape when a lookout directed her attention to a structure on the water.
There were many things odd about this piece of architecture. The most immediate one was the large bubble surrounding it, constantly changing hue across its' surface like some fantastic kaleidoscope. The design also reminded Eugen of British Maunsell Forts1, which didn't make sense to her, as it was placed practically on the waterfront of the inner harbor and not near the entrance to deny unwanted passage. It was also Wrong on some fundamental level, as if every aspect of it was designed to hurt. Looking through her optics showed a few people moving around the outside though, so perhaps she was just being paranoid?
"Keep an eye on it. If it looks like it might attack, then do something about it. Don't want to give these people a bad first impression." Huh, maybe she should start trying to use English more if she was already in the US. Though a good portion of what she knew wasn't very polite in the first place, people would at least understand what she was saying to them. Once again, Prinz Eugen set off for land, but now keeping a watchful eye on the strange fort.
[India X-ray Three Zero Zero]
A pale figure sat on a railing overlooking the bay, watching as the figure on the water headed for shore. If anyone could see her, they'd say she was beautiful in much the same way the Simurgh was; unnaturally so and in a way that was just vaguely off-putting. Her eyes glowed with an ethereal light that shifted in color as quickly as any one spot of the shield surrounding her. "My, aren't you the interesting specimen. Such a shame you came back the way you did though, I could use a heavy hitter myself." With that, the woman swung her legs back onto the walkway while pulling the sleeves of her coveralls back on. In doing so, she passed through a PRT technician, not caring as she caused him to shudder and drop his cigarette into the water below. "I think I'll let Thomas find out about you in his own time. He'll probably get himself killed if he rushes things, and it wouldn't do to lose my most useful tool." The Demon could tell the coming months were going to be 'fun'.
As for the story, this is an AU of Worm, even if many of those elements won't be readily apparent, or even directly relevant to the main plot. And while Taylor is a major reason these events start, the main focus of the story is going to be on Prinz Eugen.
Admiral Hipper class heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen, named after Prince Eugene of Savoy.
USS Prinz Eugen anchored at Bikini Atoll
Prinz Eugen in Kantai Collection
Chapter 1: Launch
Somewhere far away, a steel door slammed shut.
At least, that was what it seemed like. Maybe it was onboard? No, nobody had been aboard her hull since…
But now there were more sounds. Scratching on metal, a girl crying, calling for help. Was there someone trapped? Where? Could she help them? She had to at least try, right? It was a ship's duty to at least attempt to assist those in need. But how? Could she move? Maybe try and reach out…
[INT XRAY Three Zero Zero]
And with that, Prinz Eugen was on the water once more.
Returning to the living world after who knows how long seemed like a momentous occasion which deserved inspiring words which would be known by many future generations. What left the German's mouth though was, "Where is my hull?" Nearly everything else felt like it was where it should be, including most of the components that had been stripped from her when she came to the US. Her ammunition, fuel, and food stores all seemed full as well, which was a welcome feeling when one was in unknown waters. The exception to this was her floatplane hangar, which currently contained only one aircraft, instead of the three she normally carried.
The feeling that there was someone trapped hadn't gone away though. Focusing on the sensation, it almost felt like it was coming from two places at once: Her number one gun in Anton turret, and also... Flashes of a lit hallway, a door opening, and something sticky assaulted her senses. Eugen found herself gagging, whether at what she had 'seen' or whatever allowed her to do that, she didn't know. "Not doing that again unless I absolutely have to. I hope whatever that was means they made it out."
Her immediate concerns allayed, the heavy cruiser's next task was to take stock of her current location. The sky overhead was a dull grey, with light flurries of snow drifting down onto her cap and turrets. Beneath her feet, the water gently rippled with smaller ice chunks mixed in, suggesting she was currently in a harbor. Looking at her surroundings though, harbor probably wasn't the right word anymore. Harbor suggested a safe place for ships to moor, a place where young sailors could go ashore and relax, where older ships would look at their juniors and silently pass judgement on crews based on their ship's condition.
Here, ships of various types were sitting half sunk in what must have been at one point in time a thriving port. Rotted wood pilings and ropes, rusted hulks with broken bridge windows, and buildings which looked like they might collapse at any minute surrounded her. They hadn't been sunk as part of a weapons test like herself, and it was clear that they would never be sent to a scrapyard to act as resources for the next generation. On top of that, beyond the broken ships and buildings, the entire area seemed to exude a sickly feeling, like if one went to sleep, they wouldn't wake up. Despite there being no movement, Prinz Eugen felt as if she was being watched from all sides.
No, harbor definitely wasn't the right description. This place was a mass grave.
"Okay, assuming I can walk around on land and that people can see me now, priority one is figuring out where I am. Once that's done, then we try and get in contact with the US Navy."
In response, a tiny voice came from within her bridge, or was it head now? "Ja ja, ja ja ja ja. Ja ja ja?"
"Because… Because my last commission was with them. And what guarantee is there that a German Navy even exists at this point?"
Another tiny voice piped up, raising another question for her to ponder. "Hey hey hey, hey hey. Hey?"
"Even if there still is one, I don't want to talk to a harbor master of a place like this. Maybe a police station would work better. I might also be able to find out more about whatever that vision was." A chorus of voices, a majority in German, but a sprinkling of American accented English, politely pointed out that without a Captain, Prinz Eugen was in charge of herself, and unless she was unnecessarily putting herself in danger, they would follow her orders.
A plan firmly in place, Prinz Eugen set her engines for 1/4 ahead while keeping an eye out for ice floes and steamed away from the ruined docks into the rest of the unknown bay. Only to slow to a standstill once she laid eyes on the city before her. She was no stranger to tall buildings, she'd seen a few during her time in Boston and Philadelphia, but there were several she could see that were likely taller than her hull was long. And even in the weak light of what she was beginning to recognize as a New England winter, those buildings glimmered as if they were made entirely of glass. The shocked cruiser's eyes were torn away from the cityscape when a lookout directed her attention to a structure on the water.
There were many things odd about this piece of architecture. The most immediate one was the large bubble surrounding it, constantly changing hue across its' surface like some fantastic kaleidoscope. The design also reminded Eugen of British Maunsell Forts1, which didn't make sense to her, as it was placed practically on the waterfront of the inner harbor and not near the entrance to deny unwanted passage. It was also Wrong on some fundamental level, as if every aspect of it was designed to hurt. Looking through her optics showed a few people moving around the outside though, so perhaps she was just being paranoid?
"Keep an eye on it. If it looks like it might attack, then do something about it. Don't want to give these people a bad first impression." Huh, maybe she should start trying to use English more if she was already in the US. Though a good portion of what she knew wasn't very polite in the first place, people would at least understand what she was saying to them. Once again, Prinz Eugen set off for land, but now keeping a watchful eye on the strange fort.
[India X-ray Three Zero Zero]
A pale figure sat on a railing overlooking the bay, watching as the figure on the water headed for shore. If anyone could see her, they'd say she was beautiful in much the same way the Simurgh was; unnaturally so and in a way that was just vaguely off-putting. Her eyes glowed with an ethereal light that shifted in color as quickly as any one spot of the shield surrounding her. "My, aren't you the interesting specimen. Such a shame you came back the way you did though, I could use a heavy hitter myself." With that, the woman swung her legs back onto the walkway while pulling the sleeves of her coveralls back on. In doing so, she passed through a PRT technician, not caring as she caused him to shudder and drop his cigarette into the water below. "I think I'll let Thomas find out about you in his own time. He'll probably get himself killed if he rushes things, and it wouldn't do to lose my most useful tool." The Demon could tell the coming months were going to be 'fun'.
1: Sea forts placed at the mouth of the Thames estuary during World War Two to defend against German E-boats.
Chapter 2: Beaching
LegoKitsune
Professional Lurker
Chapter 2: Beaching
Prinz Eugen took in the details of her chosen landing site. It was a gently sloping beach with an overall rise of maybe three meters from the waterline, which currently looked to be at low tide. Past the beach was a raised boardwalk with what appeared to be various shops. It was honestly difficult to tell from her low position in the water, which was the biggest drawback she'd noticed so far. She couldn't imagine trying to spot surface targets among the swells of a North Atlantic storm like this.
The tide being out was also extremely beneficial to her current plans. If she found herself unable to move after getting onto the beach, the hope was that she could just refloat herself with the tide and power back out into the bay. Still, she cut her engines as she approached to avoid damaging her props and coasted in. Coming up short a few meters wasn't a hindrance either, as Eugen simply utilized her newfound mobility and stepped onto the sand. The heavy cruiser then lifted her foot back up so that one of her crew fairies1 could take a picture of the historic footprint before the waves erased it for good.
Moving past the point of the waves, while not impossible, was certainly difficult. "Is it this rigging? I don't want to just dump it here and leave it. Is ther- oh!" In a flash of white light, the mass of metal hanging from her back simply vanished as if it was never there. At the same time, she could still 'feel' it, like it would reappear at a mere thought. "Note to self, don't try getting the rigging out while going through a doorway."
The experience of moving around on solid land was a bizarre experience for her. Even when in port, ships moved around ever so slightly in their moorings as the wind and tide caused the water to move. Even though the sand beneath her feet would shift as she started to put weight on it, it wasn't anything like standing on the water. As much as she wanted to just stay on the beach and explore at her own pace, she still had her mission to carry out, self-imposed as it was.
As Eugen moved onto the boardwalk, a small crowd had already started to gather, with most holding black somethings that definitely weren't wallets. From the way they were being held, they seemed to be cameras, just much smaller than anything she'd seen before. Seeing them though, brought up the question of what she was supposed to say. All her direct social interactions to this point had been with other ships, she'd never talked to anyone else before. 'What do I say to them? Do I tell them everything or just ask for directions? They probably saw me come onto the beach, do they think I'm some sort of freak or a threat? Well, Constitution said I should at least say hello when meeting strangers.'
[India X-ray Three Zero Zero]
Joseph Durand couldn't quite believe what he was witnessing, and it wasn't because he hadn't had his morning coffee. And having lived in Brockton Bay for the past seven years, he was at least inured to some of the things that parahumans got up to. Seeing a young woman seemingly skating across the surface of the bay while wearing some sort of tinkertech, while unexpected, was not outside the realm of possibility. Seeing her act like walking around on a beach was the most amazing thing in the world after making the tinkertech disappear in a flash of light, while strange, wasn't concerning.
What was concerning was that said young woman was wearing a red and black outfit with freaking Iron Crosses on her shoulders, and most importantly, no mask. Heroes going around without masks like New Wave was one thing, but villains without masks were basically saying 'I give no fucks,' and were usually powerful enough to back that up. Even Lung, widely regarded as the most powerful parahuman in the city wore a mask. It also said a lot about Joseph and other Brockton Bay residents that when confronted with a potential supervillain, they pulled out their phones and started filming to post on PHO rather than call the PRT.
As she came up to the crowd, Joseph noted that she seemed almost shy, like she wasn't sure what to do. Despite this, and seemingly with a good amount of cheer, she gave a small wave and greeted them. "Hello." 'Oh crap, she's German,' was the thought that raced through Joseph's head when the woman spoke, but out loud he replied with "Aren't you cold wearing that?"
Rather than say 'yes' considering she was wearing a short skirt, she just replied "I'm fine, thank you." With a bit of hesitation in her voice, she asked "Um, this may sound like a strange question, but could you tell me where I am?"
He took note of the people around him exchanging looks wondering if she was some sort of Case 53 before telling her, "We're in Brockton Bay." In response the strange woman tilted her head to the side like she was listening to a conversation only she could hear before asking, "Maine?" Joseph's response to that was just a quick nod.
"Also, can you direct me to a police station?"
A woman in the crowd was quick on the draw and pulled up a map on her phone before giving directions. "Okay, go five blocks south on Bayshore Drive, this road here, then turn right on Kensington Street. Go about seven blocks and it'll be on your right."
While this was happening, the likely cape was looking at the phone screen with a look of utter amazement on her face. That done, she started to turn in the given direction while waving to them. "Danke schön."
Unable to contain his curiosity any more, Joseph spoke up again. "Excuse me, but who are you?"
With a voice full of pride but also to his ears, a slight tinge of sadness, she replied, "I'm USS Prinz Eugen."
As the strange woman walked off, he turned to the rest of the crowd and asked the question on all of their minds. "Did that really just happen?"
Prinz Eugen took in the details of her chosen landing site. It was a gently sloping beach with an overall rise of maybe three meters from the waterline, which currently looked to be at low tide. Past the beach was a raised boardwalk with what appeared to be various shops. It was honestly difficult to tell from her low position in the water, which was the biggest drawback she'd noticed so far. She couldn't imagine trying to spot surface targets among the swells of a North Atlantic storm like this.
The tide being out was also extremely beneficial to her current plans. If she found herself unable to move after getting onto the beach, the hope was that she could just refloat herself with the tide and power back out into the bay. Still, she cut her engines as she approached to avoid damaging her props and coasted in. Coming up short a few meters wasn't a hindrance either, as Eugen simply utilized her newfound mobility and stepped onto the sand. The heavy cruiser then lifted her foot back up so that one of her crew fairies1 could take a picture of the historic footprint before the waves erased it for good.
Moving past the point of the waves, while not impossible, was certainly difficult. "Is it this rigging? I don't want to just dump it here and leave it. Is ther- oh!" In a flash of white light, the mass of metal hanging from her back simply vanished as if it was never there. At the same time, she could still 'feel' it, like it would reappear at a mere thought. "Note to self, don't try getting the rigging out while going through a doorway."
The experience of moving around on solid land was a bizarre experience for her. Even when in port, ships moved around ever so slightly in their moorings as the wind and tide caused the water to move. Even though the sand beneath her feet would shift as she started to put weight on it, it wasn't anything like standing on the water. As much as she wanted to just stay on the beach and explore at her own pace, she still had her mission to carry out, self-imposed as it was.
As Eugen moved onto the boardwalk, a small crowd had already started to gather, with most holding black somethings that definitely weren't wallets. From the way they were being held, they seemed to be cameras, just much smaller than anything she'd seen before. Seeing them though, brought up the question of what she was supposed to say. All her direct social interactions to this point had been with other ships, she'd never talked to anyone else before. 'What do I say to them? Do I tell them everything or just ask for directions? They probably saw me come onto the beach, do they think I'm some sort of freak or a threat? Well, Constitution said I should at least say hello when meeting strangers.'
[India X-ray Three Zero Zero]
Joseph Durand couldn't quite believe what he was witnessing, and it wasn't because he hadn't had his morning coffee. And having lived in Brockton Bay for the past seven years, he was at least inured to some of the things that parahumans got up to. Seeing a young woman seemingly skating across the surface of the bay while wearing some sort of tinkertech, while unexpected, was not outside the realm of possibility. Seeing her act like walking around on a beach was the most amazing thing in the world after making the tinkertech disappear in a flash of light, while strange, wasn't concerning.
What was concerning was that said young woman was wearing a red and black outfit with freaking Iron Crosses on her shoulders, and most importantly, no mask. Heroes going around without masks like New Wave was one thing, but villains without masks were basically saying 'I give no fucks,' and were usually powerful enough to back that up. Even Lung, widely regarded as the most powerful parahuman in the city wore a mask. It also said a lot about Joseph and other Brockton Bay residents that when confronted with a potential supervillain, they pulled out their phones and started filming to post on PHO rather than call the PRT.
As she came up to the crowd, Joseph noted that she seemed almost shy, like she wasn't sure what to do. Despite this, and seemingly with a good amount of cheer, she gave a small wave and greeted them. "Hello." 'Oh crap, she's German,' was the thought that raced through Joseph's head when the woman spoke, but out loud he replied with "Aren't you cold wearing that?"
Rather than say 'yes' considering she was wearing a short skirt, she just replied "I'm fine, thank you." With a bit of hesitation in her voice, she asked "Um, this may sound like a strange question, but could you tell me where I am?"
He took note of the people around him exchanging looks wondering if she was some sort of Case 53 before telling her, "We're in Brockton Bay." In response the strange woman tilted her head to the side like she was listening to a conversation only she could hear before asking, "Maine?" Joseph's response to that was just a quick nod.
"Also, can you direct me to a police station?"
A woman in the crowd was quick on the draw and pulled up a map on her phone before giving directions. "Okay, go five blocks south on Bayshore Drive, this road here, then turn right on Kensington Street. Go about seven blocks and it'll be on your right."
While this was happening, the likely cape was looking at the phone screen with a look of utter amazement on her face. That done, she started to turn in the given direction while waving to them. "Danke schön."
Unable to contain his curiosity any more, Joseph spoke up again. "Excuse me, but who are you?"
With a voice full of pride but also to his ears, a slight tinge of sadness, she replied, "I'm USS Prinz Eugen."
As the strange woman walked off, he turned to the rest of the crowd and asked the question on all of their minds. "Did that really just happen?"
1: Tiny humanoid figures that act as a shipgirl's crew. Unlike nature fairies, these ones aren't bothered by cold iron.
Chapter 3: Castle Itter
LegoKitsune
Professional Lurker
Chapter 3: Castle Itter
This was, Edgar thought, one of the worse ways to start the day. People weren't exactly begging for a book store to open at 9 o'clock just after New Year's, but he did it anyways in case someone found a moment to pop in after rush hour. That had apparently been a mistake today, as evidenced when three men had trudged into his store just after he had unlocked the front door, without even bothering to wipe their feet. Then there was the fact that the self-proclaimed 'insurance salesmen' could only have more obviously been members of the Empire 88 if they had started goose stepping and shouting 'Sieg Heil!' One of them had even gone so far as to shave his head and get a giant swastika tattoo on the back of his neck. He was a patient man, but having the Nazi Three Stooges on his property was rapidly draining it.
Trying to subtly persuade them into leaving, he told them "I already have insurance. I don't need more from some guy off the street."
The leader of the thugs responded in a voice he probably thought was suave, but just came across as jerkish. "I mean, you can never have too many insurance plans, right? And what happens if somebody decides to break in or something? We can keep an eye out for things like that better than some big business corporate type."
"I'm two blocks away from a police station." Hopefully the rather obvious hint would make these idiots go away.
"Look Mister, uh…"
"Marlowe."
"Mister Marlowe, I honestly don't think you can trust the cops in this city. Who knows what sort of things they look the other way on?"
Apparently, he had overestimated the intelligence of people who became Nazis. This was reinforced when the one Edgar had nicknamed 'Cueball' spoke up. "Wow, you're lucky working in a place called 'Marlowe's Book Store' when that's your last name."
Edgar suspected Cueball could join the Merchants and nobody would notice a decrease in his mental faculties from drug abuse. Based on the looks the other two thugs were giving the moron, they probably held similar opinions on the matter.
With his patience gone, and realizing that the subtle approach wasn't going to get rid of the gang members, he resorted to a more direct one. "Alright, enough of this. Get the hell out of my store before I call the cops." He emphasized his words by pointing to the door.
Rather than follow his instructions, the leader of the group instead slammed his hand down on the counter and started yelling. "That's how you wanna play it? Let me spell this out for you jackass! If you don't want us to start smashing up your store, you give us money! Get it?!"
Then with a smirk on his face, he calmly added, "And besides, there's three of us and only one of you. You think some savior is just gonna walk in off the street?"
Edgar's grip tightened on the wooden baseball bat he kept beneath the counter for defense, before the bell over the door jingled. Glancing over at the newcomer with a feeling of trepidation, he thought, 'Wonderful. Brockton Bay strikes again.'
[India X-ray Three Zero Zero]
As she walked down Kensington Street, Prinz Eugen was taking in what was essentially a brand-new world. While she wanted to know what year it was now, she hadn't asked that crowd since they had seemed nervous of her presence for some reason. A lot of people on the sidewalk also seemed nervous when she saw them, usually crossing the street when she came near.
Car traffic on the streets had also been thinning out somewhat as she went, likely as people went to their jobs. She couldn't actually tell if it was more or less busy than 1946 since she'd never actually been in a city center, just on the waterfront. While there was surely a reason engineers had designed the cars to look the way they did, she still preferred the look from her time.
Her radio room meanwhile, had not been idle while she had been walking. Whatever year it was had a lot more radio signals present than she ever remembered, though some of that seemed to be intended for devices other than communication radios. Although the radio fairy who was overseeing the VHF set was figuratively tearing her hair out. They had stumbled across a broadcast station whose host had clearly stated they were using FM, even though all of Eugen's transceiver systems were set up for AM, and the fairy hadn't done any sort of technical wizardry to allow them to properly listen to it. The music was catchy though, if drastically different than what she was used to.
She was also taking the opportunity to see what sort of stores the future held. Bars, markets, restaurants, and cafés were all things she could easily recognize, if by their design rather than any names. She did wonder though why there would need to be two cafés from the same company within a few blocks of each other. One store had those strange cameras people were carrying on display in the window, though the price listed made her hope that inflation was the reason they were valued in the hundreds of dollars.
What really caught the shipgirl's attention though, was a bookstore. In the front window were several books on maritime industry, which considering this was a port city, made sense to her. As much as she wanted to buy and read those books, she didn't have any money, and doubted the owner would let her just start reading them through like she was in a library.
Her attention was broken from window shopping by a few fairies. The first was her hydrophone operator reporting shouting coming from her direct front, placing it inside the store. The other was a lookout directing her gaze to one of the occupants that could just be seen through the window, a man with a shaved head, and that symbol tattooed on the back of his neck.
Rather than feeling joy at experiencing this future world, Prinz Eugen now felt a calculated rage at what was in front of her. She moved over to the door, not noticing that she left indents in the handle as she pulled it open, and entered the bookshop, faintly noting the bell chiming above the door.
She took in the appearance of the occupants as they turned to face her. Three men arrayed around the counter were wearing black and red clothing, with emblems that reminded her of SS insignia, while the well-dressed clerk behind the counter looked defiant. Eugen was beginning to understand why all those people she'd seen on the street seemed afraid of her. Or rather, who they thought she associated with.
The apparent leader of the group had a smile on his face that made her feel sick as he started talking, "Well I guess we'll get a bit of help. You lookin' for a good time cutie? Give me a bit to wrap up this business and we can go somewhere quiet."
Fighting the growing urge to vomit at the creep's words, she instead addressed the clerk while trying to keep a level voice. "Are these men bothering you sir?"
With a slight hesitation, but palpable anger in his voice he replied. "Yeah, they are. And I want them out of my store."
In a clipped tone, she gave an order to the others in the store. "You heard the man. Leave. Now." The last word was almost growled.
Instead of doing as they were told, the thugs puffed up with indignation. "What, you serious? You think that you can wear our colors and start telling us what to do, you foreign bitch? Maybe we oughta teach you a lesson along with this jackass." To emphasize his words, the leader reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a switchblade which clicked open.
Momentarily perplexed by a man wearing emblems originating from Germany not recognizing a German accent, Prinz Eugen found herself moving on instincts absorbed from her former crewmen to deal with the threat. The Nazi in front of her clearly wasn't expecting her to fight back, evidenced by the look of surprise when she stepped further into his reach and grabbed his wrist. Hooking her right leg behind his own, she twisted his knife hand while throwing him over her hip.
He landed on his back with a whoosh of air and an accompanying sharp snap, whether from bones breaking or the floorboards, she wasn't sure. The violent twisting of his arm also seemed to have dislocated the man's shoulder, as well as likely doing a number on his wrist. While she had done the move as intended, Eugen was surprised that she had managed it with so little effort, and that it was so devastating. Apparently, she was much stronger than she looked in her current form, and could easily overpower normal human beings.
With her first opponent decisively incapacitated already, she didn't carry through with the planned stomp and instead shifted her focus to the second man, who had a wicked looking scar across his face. Before she could move to engage, the store owner pulled what she recognized as a baseball bat from below the counter and swung it overhead. As the second thug reached into a pocket, the bat connected with his collarbone, producing another snap. This one was drowned out by the man's cry of pain, and he crumpled to the ground clutching his shoulder.
As the owner looked like he was about to climb over the counter to deliver more punishment, her lookouts alerted her to the actions of the last Nazi. She turned to face him just as he finished pulling a pistol from his waistband. Rather than seek cover, the shipgirl instead charged ahead to close the short distance between her and the gunman.
Fast as she reacted, there was still enough time for him to get off a shot in her direction. Experiencing a slight ringing sensation, she exploited her newly realized strength and swung her steel boot up in between the man's legs. He immediately dropped to the floor, letting out a strange keening sound as the pistol clattered next to him. She used a foot to slide it out of reach, before quickly stepping back as he started vomiting on the floor, overwhelmed from the pain.
Ensuring that none of the downed men were in a hurry to get up, she turned back to face the store owner. "Sorry about causing a mess in your store."
"You uh, you have a little something…" This was accompanied by him pointing to his forehead just above his nose.
Confused, she started feeling around before pulling something off of her own forehead. Looking closely, she realized the little bit of misshapen metal was the bullet fired from the pistol. Keeping an eye on what she now considered prisoners, Eugen placed the deformed bullet on the counter, then placed her senior Master-at-Arms next to it. The little white-haired fairy had grabbed a rifle from her armory and was now watching to make sure none of the men on the ground tried anything else. A detachment of corpsmen fairies had also disembarked and were administering aid.
The store owner had taken the opportunity to pick up a telephone receiver and was conversing with what she assumed was the operator, all while staring at the fairies poking and prodding at injuries. "12408 Kensington Street, I need the police, and probably some ambulances." A pause. "Some E Eighty-Eight fucks just tried to rob me. They're not going anywhere though." Another pause. "Yes, I'll stay on the line."
Keeping her voice down somewhat she asked, "Are you alright?"
Slipping his hand over the mouthpiece, the apparent owner was somewhat incredulous. "Am I alright? You got shot in the head and you ask me if I'm alright?"
"Honestly, I barely even felt it. So, are you alright?"
He let out a deep breath before replying, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright. I'm Edgar by the way, and this is my store."
"Barring the circumstances, pleased to meet you Edgar. I'm USS Prinz Eugen."
Edgar leaned on the counter, staring at the crest on her sleeve, then looking her in the eyes. Finding whatever he was looking for, he asked, "Like the heavy cruiser?"
"Mm-hm!" This was delivered with a bright smile on her face.
Taking a moment to think, he seemed to come to a decision before reaching over the counter and grabbing one of the books on display. He set it on the counter and tapped the front cover. "Here, I want you to have this."
The book was titled US Navy Warships & Auxiliaries1 and featured a design of ship she was unfamiliar with. "Thank you, but I can't pay for this. I don't have any money."
"I'm not asking for any money. Consider it a reward for helping me out of a jam. Hm?" Edgar took his hand back off the mouthpiece of the phone. "No, there's no problem. I'm just talking to the person who helped stop them."
Still smiling, Prinz Eugen picked up her gift and handed it off to her crew. She wasn't quite sure how she did whatever she did, but it would be kept safe while her fairies looked it over to see what she had missed all these years. Over the noise of groaning Nazis, she could hear emergency sirens getting closer.
This was, Edgar thought, one of the worse ways to start the day. People weren't exactly begging for a book store to open at 9 o'clock just after New Year's, but he did it anyways in case someone found a moment to pop in after rush hour. That had apparently been a mistake today, as evidenced when three men had trudged into his store just after he had unlocked the front door, without even bothering to wipe their feet. Then there was the fact that the self-proclaimed 'insurance salesmen' could only have more obviously been members of the Empire 88 if they had started goose stepping and shouting 'Sieg Heil!' One of them had even gone so far as to shave his head and get a giant swastika tattoo on the back of his neck. He was a patient man, but having the Nazi Three Stooges on his property was rapidly draining it.
Trying to subtly persuade them into leaving, he told them "I already have insurance. I don't need more from some guy off the street."
The leader of the thugs responded in a voice he probably thought was suave, but just came across as jerkish. "I mean, you can never have too many insurance plans, right? And what happens if somebody decides to break in or something? We can keep an eye out for things like that better than some big business corporate type."
"I'm two blocks away from a police station." Hopefully the rather obvious hint would make these idiots go away.
"Look Mister, uh…"
"Marlowe."
"Mister Marlowe, I honestly don't think you can trust the cops in this city. Who knows what sort of things they look the other way on?"
Apparently, he had overestimated the intelligence of people who became Nazis. This was reinforced when the one Edgar had nicknamed 'Cueball' spoke up. "Wow, you're lucky working in a place called 'Marlowe's Book Store' when that's your last name."
Edgar suspected Cueball could join the Merchants and nobody would notice a decrease in his mental faculties from drug abuse. Based on the looks the other two thugs were giving the moron, they probably held similar opinions on the matter.
With his patience gone, and realizing that the subtle approach wasn't going to get rid of the gang members, he resorted to a more direct one. "Alright, enough of this. Get the hell out of my store before I call the cops." He emphasized his words by pointing to the door.
Rather than follow his instructions, the leader of the group instead slammed his hand down on the counter and started yelling. "That's how you wanna play it? Let me spell this out for you jackass! If you don't want us to start smashing up your store, you give us money! Get it?!"
Then with a smirk on his face, he calmly added, "And besides, there's three of us and only one of you. You think some savior is just gonna walk in off the street?"
Edgar's grip tightened on the wooden baseball bat he kept beneath the counter for defense, before the bell over the door jingled. Glancing over at the newcomer with a feeling of trepidation, he thought, 'Wonderful. Brockton Bay strikes again.'
[India X-ray Three Zero Zero]
As she walked down Kensington Street, Prinz Eugen was taking in what was essentially a brand-new world. While she wanted to know what year it was now, she hadn't asked that crowd since they had seemed nervous of her presence for some reason. A lot of people on the sidewalk also seemed nervous when she saw them, usually crossing the street when she came near.
Car traffic on the streets had also been thinning out somewhat as she went, likely as people went to their jobs. She couldn't actually tell if it was more or less busy than 1946 since she'd never actually been in a city center, just on the waterfront. While there was surely a reason engineers had designed the cars to look the way they did, she still preferred the look from her time.
Her radio room meanwhile, had not been idle while she had been walking. Whatever year it was had a lot more radio signals present than she ever remembered, though some of that seemed to be intended for devices other than communication radios. Although the radio fairy who was overseeing the VHF set was figuratively tearing her hair out. They had stumbled across a broadcast station whose host had clearly stated they were using FM, even though all of Eugen's transceiver systems were set up for AM, and the fairy hadn't done any sort of technical wizardry to allow them to properly listen to it. The music was catchy though, if drastically different than what she was used to.
She was also taking the opportunity to see what sort of stores the future held. Bars, markets, restaurants, and cafés were all things she could easily recognize, if by their design rather than any names. She did wonder though why there would need to be two cafés from the same company within a few blocks of each other. One store had those strange cameras people were carrying on display in the window, though the price listed made her hope that inflation was the reason they were valued in the hundreds of dollars.
What really caught the shipgirl's attention though, was a bookstore. In the front window were several books on maritime industry, which considering this was a port city, made sense to her. As much as she wanted to buy and read those books, she didn't have any money, and doubted the owner would let her just start reading them through like she was in a library.
Her attention was broken from window shopping by a few fairies. The first was her hydrophone operator reporting shouting coming from her direct front, placing it inside the store. The other was a lookout directing her gaze to one of the occupants that could just be seen through the window, a man with a shaved head, and that symbol tattooed on the back of his neck.
Rather than feeling joy at experiencing this future world, Prinz Eugen now felt a calculated rage at what was in front of her. She moved over to the door, not noticing that she left indents in the handle as she pulled it open, and entered the bookshop, faintly noting the bell chiming above the door.
She took in the appearance of the occupants as they turned to face her. Three men arrayed around the counter were wearing black and red clothing, with emblems that reminded her of SS insignia, while the well-dressed clerk behind the counter looked defiant. Eugen was beginning to understand why all those people she'd seen on the street seemed afraid of her. Or rather, who they thought she associated with.
The apparent leader of the group had a smile on his face that made her feel sick as he started talking, "Well I guess we'll get a bit of help. You lookin' for a good time cutie? Give me a bit to wrap up this business and we can go somewhere quiet."
Fighting the growing urge to vomit at the creep's words, she instead addressed the clerk while trying to keep a level voice. "Are these men bothering you sir?"
With a slight hesitation, but palpable anger in his voice he replied. "Yeah, they are. And I want them out of my store."
In a clipped tone, she gave an order to the others in the store. "You heard the man. Leave. Now." The last word was almost growled.
Instead of doing as they were told, the thugs puffed up with indignation. "What, you serious? You think that you can wear our colors and start telling us what to do, you foreign bitch? Maybe we oughta teach you a lesson along with this jackass." To emphasize his words, the leader reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a switchblade which clicked open.
Momentarily perplexed by a man wearing emblems originating from Germany not recognizing a German accent, Prinz Eugen found herself moving on instincts absorbed from her former crewmen to deal with the threat. The Nazi in front of her clearly wasn't expecting her to fight back, evidenced by the look of surprise when she stepped further into his reach and grabbed his wrist. Hooking her right leg behind his own, she twisted his knife hand while throwing him over her hip.
He landed on his back with a whoosh of air and an accompanying sharp snap, whether from bones breaking or the floorboards, she wasn't sure. The violent twisting of his arm also seemed to have dislocated the man's shoulder, as well as likely doing a number on his wrist. While she had done the move as intended, Eugen was surprised that she had managed it with so little effort, and that it was so devastating. Apparently, she was much stronger than she looked in her current form, and could easily overpower normal human beings.
With her first opponent decisively incapacitated already, she didn't carry through with the planned stomp and instead shifted her focus to the second man, who had a wicked looking scar across his face. Before she could move to engage, the store owner pulled what she recognized as a baseball bat from below the counter and swung it overhead. As the second thug reached into a pocket, the bat connected with his collarbone, producing another snap. This one was drowned out by the man's cry of pain, and he crumpled to the ground clutching his shoulder.
As the owner looked like he was about to climb over the counter to deliver more punishment, her lookouts alerted her to the actions of the last Nazi. She turned to face him just as he finished pulling a pistol from his waistband. Rather than seek cover, the shipgirl instead charged ahead to close the short distance between her and the gunman.
Fast as she reacted, there was still enough time for him to get off a shot in her direction. Experiencing a slight ringing sensation, she exploited her newly realized strength and swung her steel boot up in between the man's legs. He immediately dropped to the floor, letting out a strange keening sound as the pistol clattered next to him. She used a foot to slide it out of reach, before quickly stepping back as he started vomiting on the floor, overwhelmed from the pain.
Ensuring that none of the downed men were in a hurry to get up, she turned back to face the store owner. "Sorry about causing a mess in your store."
"You uh, you have a little something…" This was accompanied by him pointing to his forehead just above his nose.
Confused, she started feeling around before pulling something off of her own forehead. Looking closely, she realized the little bit of misshapen metal was the bullet fired from the pistol. Keeping an eye on what she now considered prisoners, Eugen placed the deformed bullet on the counter, then placed her senior Master-at-Arms next to it. The little white-haired fairy had grabbed a rifle from her armory and was now watching to make sure none of the men on the ground tried anything else. A detachment of corpsmen fairies had also disembarked and were administering aid.
The store owner had taken the opportunity to pick up a telephone receiver and was conversing with what she assumed was the operator, all while staring at the fairies poking and prodding at injuries. "12408 Kensington Street, I need the police, and probably some ambulances." A pause. "Some E Eighty-Eight fucks just tried to rob me. They're not going anywhere though." Another pause. "Yes, I'll stay on the line."
Keeping her voice down somewhat she asked, "Are you alright?"
Slipping his hand over the mouthpiece, the apparent owner was somewhat incredulous. "Am I alright? You got shot in the head and you ask me if I'm alright?"
"Honestly, I barely even felt it. So, are you alright?"
He let out a deep breath before replying, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright. I'm Edgar by the way, and this is my store."
"Barring the circumstances, pleased to meet you Edgar. I'm USS Prinz Eugen."
Edgar leaned on the counter, staring at the crest on her sleeve, then looking her in the eyes. Finding whatever he was looking for, he asked, "Like the heavy cruiser?"
"Mm-hm!" This was delivered with a bright smile on her face.
Taking a moment to think, he seemed to come to a decision before reaching over the counter and grabbing one of the books on display. He set it on the counter and tapped the front cover. "Here, I want you to have this."
The book was titled US Navy Warships & Auxiliaries1 and featured a design of ship she was unfamiliar with. "Thank you, but I can't pay for this. I don't have any money."
"I'm not asking for any money. Consider it a reward for helping me out of a jam. Hm?" Edgar took his hand back off the mouthpiece of the phone. "No, there's no problem. I'm just talking to the person who helped stop them."
Still smiling, Prinz Eugen picked up her gift and handed it off to her crew. She wasn't quite sure how she did whatever she did, but it would be kept safe while her fairies looked it over to see what she had missed all these years. Over the noise of groaning Nazis, she could hear emergency sirens getting closer.
1: The book in question, published at the end of 2010, just before this is set.
- Location
- America
Ok, so firstly: you're welcome everyone, and secondly:
Well fucknuggets.
Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
An ex-Kriegsmarine shipgirl in a city infested with Neo-Nazis. This is going to be fun~
- Location
- America
Oh you can bet your ass it'll be fun!
Introducing the chaos of a shipgirl into Brockton Bay never goes poorly. XD
MitchMash
Hasa Diga Eebowa
- Location
- Low Earth Orbit Spacedock
I have a sneaking suspicion that the 'demon' is the Rig, although I can't see why
Chargone
Invisable operator
- Location
- New Zealand
I'd expect the tinker tech to be the main cause of the rig's wrongness, myself. The demon seems to be Coil related.
We Just Write
Blatantly Plural
- Location
- New England
- Pronouns
- Plural
Watched.
- Location
- Sherman Oaks, CA
Well, now....
This looks to be VERY interesting. Watched with great interest.
I wonder how the police are going to react to a Kriegsmarine Warship who appears to take a dislike to the Nazis. Not to mention how Kaiser and the rest of the E88 will react. This should be fun.
This looks to be VERY interesting. Watched with great interest.
I wonder how the police are going to react to a Kriegsmarine Warship who appears to take a dislike to the Nazis. Not to mention how Kaiser and the rest of the E88 will react. This should be fun.
- Location
- United States
A Shipgirl could no sell most Capes that aren't at the Triumvirate level.
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- Location
- Usa
A new mental crossover where Taylor is not a ship girl to start. Though it sounds like she might end up being the admiral of a fleet of ship girls. Nice start to a neat idea and would love to see reactions from the rig and the Nazis to this ship girl showing up.
Chapter 4: After Action Report
LegoKitsune
Professional Lurker
I'm not dead, and neither is this story. I just procrastinate. A lot. As for my writing process, well…
Chapter 4: After Action Report
Prinz Eugen watched the ripples in the water pitcher and glasses as she idly drummed her fingers on the table while thinking about the information provided to her. Mister Marlowe, who it turned out was the owner of that bookstore, had been kind enough to tell her the date without laughing at her. January third, two thousand and eleven. She hadn't worked up the courage to find out when exactly she sank, but presumed it wasn't too long after the tests. Which meant she'd wound up sixty-five years in the future. While she wanted to read her new book, now wasn't the time, though that hadn't stopped her crew from paging through it and looking at the latest generation of warships. The police had shown up and promptly asked if she'd be willing to give a statement at the station, which she'd agreed to.
She found herself in a small room, with the table situated in the middle, and a handful of rather nice office chairs around it, one of which she was sitting in. This obviously wasn't someone's office, as it lacked the necessary accoutrements such as filing cabinets or a typewriter. There wasn't even a window to see outside, which made the room feel dull and lifeless. Thankfully, someone had apparently realized that making the room too boring was a good way to make people fall asleep, and had added posters to the walls. She wasn't quite sure why whoever was in charge of a government building had allowed those posters to be of comic book superheroes. Maybe it was in case the police needed to interview young children? This was quite clearly a room meant for talking about important matters, though not with people who had actually committed crimes. Considering the circumstances and the reassurances of the officers who'd driven her here, she wasn't worried about getting in trouble. She was nervous about their reaction to finding out who built her.
She was interrupted from her musings by sounds coming from the hallway. She'd mostly ignored them as just being people walking around, but these were distinctly different; a sort of electro-mechanical sound similar to the rotors on an enigma machine, but quieter. Sitting up straight and turning her seat to face the door, she found herself extremely surprised by the figure that confidently strode into the room. He seemed to be wearing sleek plate armor in deep blue with silver highlights, and a helmet that left the lower half of the man's face exposed, showing off a well-trimmed goatee and an easygoing smile. Oddly, the armor didn't make any clanking noises as he moved. The man who followed in behind, by contrast, was rather subdued looking in a rather plain black suit, along with identification clipped to his jacket.
Both men grabbed a chair and sat opposite her before the one in the suit started speaking to her. "Now just to make things clear, you are not under arrest, nor are you in any kind of trouble. We're just having a friendly chat about what happened earlier. You can also stop this interview and leave the building any time you like." Taking a sip of water, he continued, "That said, I'm Special Agent Doherty with the PRT, and this is Armsmaster with the Protectorate."
Prinz Eugen quickly interjected before he could continue. "First, I don't know what those agencies are. Second, why is he," while pointing at 'Armsmaster', "dressed up like a comic book character?"
It seemed as though all sound in the room stopped at that. From the expression on Agent Doherty's face, he was surprised but trying to work through possible explanations. She couldn't get as much of a read on Armsmaster thanks to his helmet, but his expression did seem a bit troubled. The two men shared a look before Doherty leaned over and started whispering in Armsmaster's … ear? There didn't appear to be a way for him to easily listen without removing the helmet. Despite her own excellent hearing, Eugen still had to strain to hear what was being said.
"Is it possible she's a Case 53? I'm not seeing any mutations which would suggest that."
"None of my equipment is indicating she's being deceitful, though I am getting some odd readings."
"You haven't worked out all the bugs? I thought you'd gotten past the testing phase."
"It hasn't been through a proper field test outside the lab. But assuming she is a Case 53, it raises the question of who provided her clothing and the tinkertech she was seen with."
"Maybe we're looking at this wrong. Normal parahuman with a Tinker ability, but her trigger event left her with amnesia."
"Possible, but I feel it's unlikely. Ideally, she'll be able to tell us herself.
Eugen didn't feel as if she'd learned anything from the pair's conversation other than their agencies apparently dealt with strange happenings. Which, she supposed, was appropriate given her nature.
Doherty then drew her back into the conversation. "Just to reassure you miss, we are both a part of federal law enforcement here in the United States. To start, could you please give us a name to call you by?"
Here went nothing. "Prinz Eugen."
Writing on a notepad, he continued, "What's the first thing you remember when you came to?"
More to herself, she started "How do I put this into words… I had the sensation there was a young girl that was trapped and calling for help." Taking a moment to further gather her thoughts, she carried on. "She had this feeling of utter despair, like a drowning man clinging to a piece of driftwood, completely certain that there would be no rescue. I couldn't stand the thought of doing nothing to help. And then the next thing I knew, I was standing in the remains of the harbor."
Armsmaster leaned forward, and even with his eyes covered, it was obvious his gaze was intense. "Do you have any more details? Age, where they are, what they're trapped in?"
"I'd say around fifteen or sixteen. I don't know where, but I'm pretty sure it was a storage locker of some kind. But after I, woke up I suppose, it felt like the locker had opened up. I think she got out, but I want to be sure."
"We appreciate your concern; we'll have people start looking into that. Now-" Armsmaster cut himself short as he took in Prinz Eugen's expression of confusion. "Is there something wrong?"
"Aren't one of you going to tell someone to do that? You're both just sitting here."
"Ah. My visor allows me to submit reports and actions to the PRT computer system without being at a normal terminal. I assure you that the appropriate personnel have been notified." He didn't notice that her expression hadn't changed after his explanation.
The more urgent concerns dealt with for the moment, Agent Doherty took the lead in conversation once more. "Getting back to you, how did you come up with 'Prinz Eugen' as your cape name?"
Not realizing what he was asking, she clarified what she thought was being asked. "Cape name? I'm named after a person; Prince Eugene of Savoy."
That seemed to have thrown them for a loop, particularly Armsmaster based on his body language. Eugen was beginning to think that they had been talking past each other, with drastically different ideas of what the conversation was about.
Seemingly coming to the same realization, Armsmaster sought to clarify the situation. "When Doherty asked 'What's the first thing you remember when you came to?' what was the question you were answering as you interpreted it?"
"Um, what I first experienced after coming back today."
"Today. And would I be correct in assuming that you have memories of events you personally experienced prior to today?"
Eugen gave a quiet "Mm-hm," in conjunction with a small nod.
"I see. We were operating on the assumption you had amnesia of some sort. The question we were essentially asking was 'What is the first thing you remember?' Can you answer that question for us?"
She knew the words to say, but because these two men hadn't truly grasped what she'd told them, it was a monumental effort to utter them. Would they assume she was actually with the men she'd stopped? Would they try and send her back to her former home? Or would they merely assume she was crazy and have her committed to some asylum to undergo treatment?1 In spite of those fears, she worked herself up to speak. 'I will speak the truth and hold my head high while doing so, and I will have no regret of lies to them or myself.'
Taking a deep, if somewhat shaky breath, she began, "My first memory is of my hull coming off the slipway in Kiel, Germany in 1938, and seeing a crowd of people cheering at the launch of the newest warship for the Kriegsmarine." Finding her hands shaking, she continued, "I am the Admiral Hipper class heavy cruiser USS Prinz Eugen, hull number Int Xray 300."
Unable to bring herself to meet their gaze, she murmured, "Please don't hate me."
Emily Piggot leaned back in her chair as she watched the feed from Armsmaster's helmet cam. This was far from the worst first encounter the PRT had had with a new cape, and the young woman sitting in what had unofficially been called the 'recruiting room' had been cooperative. Piggot didn't trust that things would go well for long; they never did in this city. Having the young woman claim that she was a nazi warship was completely unexpected though, even to her.
As she was trying to figure out who would be best for conducting a psych eval, she was interrupted by her desk phone ringing. Seeing the number was her office assistant's she pressed the button for the speakerphone and answered with a gruff "Piggot."
"Director, I've got an officer from the Coast Guard on the other line. They're asking if we've encountered a woman calling herself Prinz Eugen and claiming to be a warship."
She placed her forehead in her hand while letting out a sigh. If other agencies were calling, it meant that events may fall under their jurisdiction, and thus not becoming not her problem. She just couldn't see how the current situation could be anything but a PRT/Protectorate issue.
"Put them through Nicole. I suspect I'll be a while, so hold any calls for me unless they're vitally urgent." As much as she wanted her job to get easier, she wasn't willing to voice it aloud and taunt the greatest power of all, Murphy.
I think the sign of a good writer is being able to write a compelling scene with a few people in a small room. I hope I managed it here.
Chapter 4: After Action Report
Prinz Eugen watched the ripples in the water pitcher and glasses as she idly drummed her fingers on the table while thinking about the information provided to her. Mister Marlowe, who it turned out was the owner of that bookstore, had been kind enough to tell her the date without laughing at her. January third, two thousand and eleven. She hadn't worked up the courage to find out when exactly she sank, but presumed it wasn't too long after the tests. Which meant she'd wound up sixty-five years in the future. While she wanted to read her new book, now wasn't the time, though that hadn't stopped her crew from paging through it and looking at the latest generation of warships. The police had shown up and promptly asked if she'd be willing to give a statement at the station, which she'd agreed to.
She found herself in a small room, with the table situated in the middle, and a handful of rather nice office chairs around it, one of which she was sitting in. This obviously wasn't someone's office, as it lacked the necessary accoutrements such as filing cabinets or a typewriter. There wasn't even a window to see outside, which made the room feel dull and lifeless. Thankfully, someone had apparently realized that making the room too boring was a good way to make people fall asleep, and had added posters to the walls. She wasn't quite sure why whoever was in charge of a government building had allowed those posters to be of comic book superheroes. Maybe it was in case the police needed to interview young children? This was quite clearly a room meant for talking about important matters, though not with people who had actually committed crimes. Considering the circumstances and the reassurances of the officers who'd driven her here, she wasn't worried about getting in trouble. She was nervous about their reaction to finding out who built her.
She was interrupted from her musings by sounds coming from the hallway. She'd mostly ignored them as just being people walking around, but these were distinctly different; a sort of electro-mechanical sound similar to the rotors on an enigma machine, but quieter. Sitting up straight and turning her seat to face the door, she found herself extremely surprised by the figure that confidently strode into the room. He seemed to be wearing sleek plate armor in deep blue with silver highlights, and a helmet that left the lower half of the man's face exposed, showing off a well-trimmed goatee and an easygoing smile. Oddly, the armor didn't make any clanking noises as he moved. The man who followed in behind, by contrast, was rather subdued looking in a rather plain black suit, along with identification clipped to his jacket.
Both men grabbed a chair and sat opposite her before the one in the suit started speaking to her. "Now just to make things clear, you are not under arrest, nor are you in any kind of trouble. We're just having a friendly chat about what happened earlier. You can also stop this interview and leave the building any time you like." Taking a sip of water, he continued, "That said, I'm Special Agent Doherty with the PRT, and this is Armsmaster with the Protectorate."
Prinz Eugen quickly interjected before he could continue. "First, I don't know what those agencies are. Second, why is he," while pointing at 'Armsmaster', "dressed up like a comic book character?"
It seemed as though all sound in the room stopped at that. From the expression on Agent Doherty's face, he was surprised but trying to work through possible explanations. She couldn't get as much of a read on Armsmaster thanks to his helmet, but his expression did seem a bit troubled. The two men shared a look before Doherty leaned over and started whispering in Armsmaster's … ear? There didn't appear to be a way for him to easily listen without removing the helmet. Despite her own excellent hearing, Eugen still had to strain to hear what was being said.
"Is it possible she's a Case 53? I'm not seeing any mutations which would suggest that."
"None of my equipment is indicating she's being deceitful, though I am getting some odd readings."
"You haven't worked out all the bugs? I thought you'd gotten past the testing phase."
"It hasn't been through a proper field test outside the lab. But assuming she is a Case 53, it raises the question of who provided her clothing and the tinkertech she was seen with."
"Maybe we're looking at this wrong. Normal parahuman with a Tinker ability, but her trigger event left her with amnesia."
"Possible, but I feel it's unlikely. Ideally, she'll be able to tell us herself.
Eugen didn't feel as if she'd learned anything from the pair's conversation other than their agencies apparently dealt with strange happenings. Which, she supposed, was appropriate given her nature.
Doherty then drew her back into the conversation. "Just to reassure you miss, we are both a part of federal law enforcement here in the United States. To start, could you please give us a name to call you by?"
Here went nothing. "Prinz Eugen."
Writing on a notepad, he continued, "What's the first thing you remember when you came to?"
More to herself, she started "How do I put this into words… I had the sensation there was a young girl that was trapped and calling for help." Taking a moment to further gather her thoughts, she carried on. "She had this feeling of utter despair, like a drowning man clinging to a piece of driftwood, completely certain that there would be no rescue. I couldn't stand the thought of doing nothing to help. And then the next thing I knew, I was standing in the remains of the harbor."
Armsmaster leaned forward, and even with his eyes covered, it was obvious his gaze was intense. "Do you have any more details? Age, where they are, what they're trapped in?"
"I'd say around fifteen or sixteen. I don't know where, but I'm pretty sure it was a storage locker of some kind. But after I, woke up I suppose, it felt like the locker had opened up. I think she got out, but I want to be sure."
"We appreciate your concern; we'll have people start looking into that. Now-" Armsmaster cut himself short as he took in Prinz Eugen's expression of confusion. "Is there something wrong?"
"Aren't one of you going to tell someone to do that? You're both just sitting here."
"Ah. My visor allows me to submit reports and actions to the PRT computer system without being at a normal terminal. I assure you that the appropriate personnel have been notified." He didn't notice that her expression hadn't changed after his explanation.
The more urgent concerns dealt with for the moment, Agent Doherty took the lead in conversation once more. "Getting back to you, how did you come up with 'Prinz Eugen' as your cape name?"
Not realizing what he was asking, she clarified what she thought was being asked. "Cape name? I'm named after a person; Prince Eugene of Savoy."
That seemed to have thrown them for a loop, particularly Armsmaster based on his body language. Eugen was beginning to think that they had been talking past each other, with drastically different ideas of what the conversation was about.
Seemingly coming to the same realization, Armsmaster sought to clarify the situation. "When Doherty asked 'What's the first thing you remember when you came to?' what was the question you were answering as you interpreted it?"
"Um, what I first experienced after coming back today."
"Today. And would I be correct in assuming that you have memories of events you personally experienced prior to today?"
Eugen gave a quiet "Mm-hm," in conjunction with a small nod.
"I see. We were operating on the assumption you had amnesia of some sort. The question we were essentially asking was 'What is the first thing you remember?' Can you answer that question for us?"
She knew the words to say, but because these two men hadn't truly grasped what she'd told them, it was a monumental effort to utter them. Would they assume she was actually with the men she'd stopped? Would they try and send her back to her former home? Or would they merely assume she was crazy and have her committed to some asylum to undergo treatment?1 In spite of those fears, she worked herself up to speak. 'I will speak the truth and hold my head high while doing so, and I will have no regret of lies to them or myself.'
Taking a deep, if somewhat shaky breath, she began, "My first memory is of my hull coming off the slipway in Kiel, Germany in 1938, and seeing a crowd of people cheering at the launch of the newest warship for the Kriegsmarine." Finding her hands shaking, she continued, "I am the Admiral Hipper class heavy cruiser USS Prinz Eugen, hull number Int Xray 300."
Unable to bring herself to meet their gaze, she murmured, "Please don't hate me."
[India X-ray Three Zero Zero]
Emily Piggot leaned back in her chair as she watched the feed from Armsmaster's helmet cam. This was far from the worst first encounter the PRT had had with a new cape, and the young woman sitting in what had unofficially been called the 'recruiting room' had been cooperative. Piggot didn't trust that things would go well for long; they never did in this city. Having the young woman claim that she was a nazi warship was completely unexpected though, even to her.
As she was trying to figure out who would be best for conducting a psych eval, she was interrupted by her desk phone ringing. Seeing the number was her office assistant's she pressed the button for the speakerphone and answered with a gruff "Piggot."
"Director, I've got an officer from the Coast Guard on the other line. They're asking if we've encountered a woman calling herself Prinz Eugen and claiming to be a warship."
She placed her forehead in her hand while letting out a sigh. If other agencies were calling, it meant that events may fall under their jurisdiction, and thus not becoming not her problem. She just couldn't see how the current situation could be anything but a PRT/Protectorate issue.
"Put them through Nicole. I suspect I'll be a while, so hold any calls for me unless they're vitally urgent." As much as she wanted her job to get easier, she wasn't willing to voice it aloud and taunt the greatest power of all, Murphy.
1: Mental health treatments in the 1930's and 40's included such things as electroshock therapy, straight-jackets in padded rooms, and lobotomies.
I think the sign of a good writer is being able to write a compelling scene with a few people in a small room. I hope I managed it here.
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- Location
- United States
So it seems the Coast Guard and the Navy have intercepted and kept the existence of Ship girls that awaken away from the PRT and Protectorate but as most often the case some slip through the cracks. I think.
First, Were superheroes and comics a mainstream thing when Prinz was made? I don't think they were but I might be wrong. Second, Armsmaster should not be smiling, he shouldn't be friendly. At most, he should be awkwardly neutral. Whatever excuses you've got about fanon going overboard and frequently making Armsmaster a raging asshole who refuses to give up the idiot ball are entirely valid. That doesn't change the fact that the most frequent (and canon) characterization of him is stern, prideful, short-tempered, and vainglorious. This is all taken pretty much from the wiki if you don't believe me. I might be overreacting a little but as much as I dislike it when fan writers overemphasize his negative character points I hate it, even more, when they whitewash him and turn him into Assault.
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Miho Chan
One with too many ideas
- Location
- Hummelstown
- Pronouns
- She/Her
To be fair, it's up to the author what the author does with the characters. For example, in some stories, canon just doesn't work. Either due to butterflies, events that have happened within the fic, or just because the author doesn't feel like writing a character that fights them for every word they write.
Being an author is not easy. Being a "good" author is even harder, especially while directly following the stations of canon.
Sir_Braazmiir
Tiefling Paladin
- Location
- Wherever I am
Expanding on this, Worm's narration is always from the perspective of one character or another, so the characters' biases heavily skew the narrative.
There's also a difference between meeting a villainous-looking individual on the scene of an incredibly violent takedown and meeting an unknown individual in a recruiting room after a heroic action. Armsmaster does know how to smile. He has a PR agent to teach him. As for turning him into Assault, he's not cracking wise or making horribly inappropriate and or offensive jokes, so that little bit of hyperbole doesn't really track.
Not going to touch on Armsmaster, as others have already covered it to my satisfaction.
But, yeah. Superhero comics were absolutely a thing when Prinz Eugen was in under construction, with the first Superman comic being released around when she was launched. And while you might wish to bring up that fact that that was in the US , not Germany, the fact that she was commissioned into the US Navy in 1946 as IX-300 USS Prinz Eugen, gives us a clear vector for exposure...
Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
Sounds like Taylor possibly summoned herself a Pringles...
And the Pringles needs hugs *destroyer leader hugs the heavy cruiser*