Remove ads

Changing Destiny (Kancolle)

Reader mode
gdiRob! said:
Then again, I have very fond memories of the original Axis and Allies...my cousins and I once spent all night gaming one weekend...

...and recently I picked up the Axis and Allies 1940 Europe and Pacific 2nd editions. And as much as I love WoWS and other WWII computer games, nothing is more satisfying as staring across a table at your opponent as you twist the knife...
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...

I have the computer version of the game. It's tons of fun and can be quite challenging.
 
Well for my first wwII game...I played Chuck Yaeger's Air Combat (MSDOS baby, 2nd grade so...24? years ago). Then I remember playing a B-17 game but can't remember the name of it.

Now a days, I play War in The Pacific: Admiral's edition. If anyone else has it and wants to play a PBEM game, let me know, I'm sure I'll do terrible but learning experiences and what not.

Also played a few of the bridge too far games.
 
Last edited:
Well, this is certainly an interesting tangent. Anyway, my first WW2 game was the good old Medal of Honor on PS and then Panzer Front.

The most memorable WW2 PS game I played is an extremely rare Japanese turn based strategy game, where I played the role of IJN fleet commander in Pacific carrier battles, from Coral Sea to the Marianas. It is a detailed game given it's platform, where I had to manage CAP, bombers bomb/torpedo load out, scouting, fleet movement, targeting priority and all that.

I have to say, Battle of Midway is a frustrating affair whenever my fleet got detected first. Two wave of 36 Dauntless plus Wildcat escorts, each, in a turn always put 2-3 of my carriers out of commission.

Used to play War in the Pacific and War Pan Orange as well but go bored after spending 6 years real time slogging trough the full campaign.
 
Last edited:
The first WW2 game for me would probably be one of the many Jane's Flight Simulators. I was never good at it but the scenario editor in it let me make a lot of lopsided fights and the autopilot was surprisingly good.

My preferred WW2 game at the moment is Steel Division 44. Red Orchestra and Verdun are what I would say if it had to be a non-shooter. And I guess War Thunder too.

SD44 is pretty fun for me because killing King Tigers as the Allies is incredibly cathartic, more so when said KT drives into bazooka range of my rifle squad.
 
The first WW2 game that comes to my mind is Call of Duty: Finest Hour. Now it may or may not actually be the first WW2 game I've ever played, but it's the earliest one that I can remember. If I had played any other before that, then I don't remember it.
 
Last edited:
Uh, guys. I have a question. What are the odds that Thompson will meet William Patrick Hitler?
 
*checks Wiki*

Says he didn't join the Navy (properly) until '44 and was a Pharmacists Mate. Fairly unlikely, unless I was going explicitly for that.
 
Remove ads
Chapter 40
  • Threadmarks
    • Chapter 40​

    For USS Arizona, the morning of November 30th had begun the same as many others. She had started by talking with Admiral Kidd, going over ways to increase her crew's efficiency. The Admiral had teased her a bit about how serious she took things and she had pouted at him. Then she had gone on to talk with Utah about how both of them were preparing for the Seventh. The day that Admiral Thompson had told them would be when Pearl Harbor was attacked. Both battleships had agreed they were much more prepared than they should have been, for an attack on that day.

    "Someone get on that deck gun! We need fire support!"

    This can't be...

    "Medic! Oh god, medic! Hang in there, Jimmy. Hang in there!"

    ...happening...

    "Goddamn bastards. They killed him. The bastards killed him in his bunk!"

    "...not now."

    Arizona's shattered voice whispered, lost in the cacophony of guns and diving planes. Her jacket was long-since burnt off, the pain of blistered skin on her arms not registering at all. Her brown eyes were focused entirely on the planes, diving out of the sky. Silvery planes with brilliant red circles on their wings. Wings that spat fire and death at her deck, tracers splitting wood all around her. She should have felt the sharp sting as the left little red lines on her torso.

    She didn't.

    The pain Arizona felt was much more visceral. Her heart ached, when the sound of shells hitting her deck was not that of wood splintering...but that of men falling. The meaty thump of bullets entering bodies and the screams of dying men.

    "I--I have to do something." Ari numbly shook her head, tearing her eyes from the sky. Her feet stumbled, refusing to walk properly along her splintered deck. "I can't sit here. I can't. I---"

    A sudden shock forced Ari off her feet, as a bomb detonated right alongside her hull. The screaming pain of hull plates buckling and twisting had her clutching at her leg-- suddenly bloodied and torn by the impact.

    It hurts...

    Ari had never felt pain before. The refit had hurt, of course, but nothing like this. Nothing like the dull throbbing mixed with sharp twisting, as she propped her arms underneath her torso. Her muscles protested, smoke rising from her shaft. Arizona's grey tunic was singed and painful as it ran along her myriad of cuts.

    But she kept pushing herself up, gritting her teeth and unwilling to stop. She couldn't stop. She had to fight! Had to help!

    "They ne---need me. My crew needs me."

    Yet, her arms gave out. With a cry of frustration, Ari began to fall down to her deck as bullets impacted all around her. Why couldn't she--

    "Gotcha!"

    The battleship's body came to a sudden halt, as a pair of strong arms grasped onto her left arm. Brown eyes widened, their gaze trailing up a pressed-white dress uniform and onto the rugged face of what could only be a Marine. The man was young, only the faintest of faint stubble on his cheeks and chin. Darker brown eyes looked out of a sharp-featured, thin, face.

    "Who...?" Ari breathed, her voice wavering as the shock began to set in.

    A small smile crossed the Marine's face, as he pulled Ari up further and wrapped her arm around his neck. His strong arms tugged her along, as he walked towards a smoking Chicago Piano mount. Fires raged behind them, where Ari's scout burned. But the Marine had found a safe spot, to gently lay her down against the cool metal of the gun-tub.

    "Tommy!" Another Marine's voice echoed over the sound of the 1.1-inch machinecannon above them. "Who's the dame? And where'd you run off to?!"

    'Tommy' shook his head, dark eyes drifting down to Ari, before moving up to the superior officer above. "I don't know who she is, sir. Found her stumbling on deck and couldn't leave her there."

    "Damnit Tommy, a wars on!" While the Marine chewed his subordinate out, there was no true venom in his words. "Get back up here and help shoot those Japs down, right now!"

    "Yes sir!"

    Before the Marine could go far, Ari's arm had snapped out and grabbed it. Her grip was tight enough that even his muscled arm paled slightly, the battleship refusing to let go. Fire reflected in her eyes, a fierce expression crossing her face.

    "Let me help. I don't care how, but let me help." Ari's voice was strong...but still filled with a pleading tone. A tear trailed down her soot-streaked face, as the screams of dying men throughout her hull echoed in her ears. She could hear and feel everything in her hull, and never before had it meant so much to her.

    Never before had she imagined what it would feel like, to hear men bleeding out on her decks. To feel the screams of men burning in their bunks, cut off by fires set by a Japanese bomb. Hearing and seeing, behind her eyes, sailors drowning as they frantically banged on hatches sealed to prevent flooding from a torpedo that had gone underneath Vestal alongside her. Ari felt each and every man die. She heard their pleas for help.

    'Mom, help me! Please!'

    'I don't want to die! I don't want to die like this!'

    'It hurts! Everything hurts!'

    For Arizona, a cheerful girl who had only worried about talking to her crew before now?

    Like hell she was going to sit back and watch.

    "Tommy, let her go! We can't let a dame up here, you know that." The man in charge of the gun-crew understood what she was asking, but didn't care. A woman's place wasn't fighting. Certainly not like this, as fighters dove from the sky and strafed her decks.

    "Please." Arizona didn't care. Her eyes bored into Tommy's, the slim Marine staring right back.

    Whatever he saw behind her eyes, if it was even a tenth of what she had felt, reached him. The Marine sighed, and pulled Arizona to her feet once more.

    "Let her help, Sarge." Tommy's strong voice rang out, grim determination set in his face as he dragged Ari along with him into the gun-tub. "I don't know who she is either, but if she wants to help, let her. We need all we can get."

    While the other Marine looked like he wanted to protest- and the rest of the guncrew were wary as well -he bit his lip and shook his head. "Damnit, Tommy. You've always been too goddamn soft. Fine!" Turning away from the slim man, the sergeant's eyes burned Ari on the spot. "If you want to help, lady, do it. Can you lift ammo?"

    "Yes!" Ari didn't even question how odd it was to have a man of such low-rank ordering her around. She didn't care. If this was what she could do to help, she would damn well do it! "I can carry anything you need, sir!"

    "Good. Tommy there was our runner, so follow him. He'll take you to the ready stores."

    Without another word, the man returned to his post, and began barking out orders to his crew. Calling out planes at twelve o'clock, as Japanese bombers dove out of the sky and began to make a run on Ari's hull. The rattle of the Chicago Piano drowned anything else out, Ari shifting on her torn leg to stare at Tommy.

    "You sure about this?" Who simply raised an eyebrow at her, hefting a Thompson on his shoulder. "What with your leg and all."

    "I can walk." There was no hesitation in her words, as Ari began moving towards the ready rooms. She didn't need a guide, not when the hull of battleship Arizona BB-39 was her body.

    Whatever else Tommy may have said was lost to time, as Ari began to sprint as best she could. Pain raced up her leg with each step, and bullets pinged off metal around her. She didn't care or notice. Her full attention was on helping her desperate crew. Their cries for help continued to echo in her ears, from the deck and below. Right on down from the silent prayers her Admiral whispered under his breath, to the quiet sobbing of a man holding his best friend's hand in the wardroom.

    Never before had Arizona been as one with her crew, not like this.

    They need me, and I need them. Admiral Kidd...Admiral Thompson. I finally understand what you were trying to tell me. And I won't let them die!

    At her heart, Arizona was the same cheerful and optimistic girl who had first met Admiral Thompson, all those months ago. And that girl, the girl who had done everything she could to help her Admiral and mother, was not going to sit back and watch people die!

    "She isn't human..."

    The one voice that Ari would never remember hearing, was that of Tommy. The Marine was racing right behind her, eyes wide at the woman running on a clearly broken leg without even a wince of pain. Of how bullets flew right through her, leaving no marks as they pinged off metal. It was a testament to the loyalty of her crew, that the man never once questioned helping her, even if he didn't know who or what she was.

    And it was a testament to Arizona, that the sudden pressure wave of a magazine detonation on a different warship barely slowed her down.

    I can't stop! Not now!

    -0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
    ​
    Everyone...I couldn't save you. I tried, I did everything I could!

    Arizona had not noticed the flames rolling off of California. Had not seen the bomb impact near an open hatch, men rushing out to bring ammunition up for her anti-aircraft weapons. She had not seen the massive explosion, that had crippled the younger battleship and left her settling in the water by the stern.

    Utah had. Utah had seen everything, as impotent to do more than watch as her crew was. She had guns. She had anti-aircraft weapons, even, as befit a training ship. But her weapons were silent, lacking the ammunition to fire.

    "Goddamn, I never thought I would see it." Next to the silently crying battleship, Joe Jackson grunted. The man had long-since bitten his cigarette in half, and was reduced to being moral support for the woman by his side. "Damn dirty Japs, they suckerpunched us good."

    "I--I knew this was going to happen, eventually." Utah didn't even care anymore, as she watched her daughter burn. She couldn't see California from this distance. The girl, not the ship. But she knew.

    She knew that Cali was crying out in pain, as the flames burned her legs. Lapping at her superstructure--her hips and waist. Her daughter was dying and there was nothing she could do about it!

    How could she care about secrecy in this situation?

    "Of course you did," Jackson glared up at the sky, his eyes following a dogfight between a P-40 and a Japanese fighter. "We all did! But not like this, not all the way out here!"

    Utah almost wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. If only she had been more proactive. Admiral Thompson would have hated her, but if she had just told Admiral Richardson the truth...then maybe this wouldn't have happened. Maybe she wouldn't have been forced to watch, as another Japanese plane dropped a torpedo into Oklahoma's flank.

    Why didn't I do it? How could I let this happen?!

    Thick black smoke poured into the air from numerous wounds. Flames burst across Battleship Row and Ford Island, and the smoke did nothing to hide the source of these flames, pure white aircraft flitting across the sky. Just like--just like in her dream, so long ago.

    "Oklahoma's taking on water!" That shout came from a messenger, relaying information from the radio room. "Counterflooding is keeping her even, but she's going to sink!"

    "Okie..." The grey haired battleship went unnoticed by that man, as she tightly clenched at her Captain's arm.

    Jackson didn't show any sign of caring about that, as he looked at the messenger, "And have you gotten any ammo from Ford Island?"

    "Well..."

    A raised eyebrow.

    "No, sir, I haven't. Everything is being used to defend the airbase, and they say there isn't anything to spare. And that they couldn't get it out to us if there was."

    With an explosive sigh, Jackson waved the messenger back to his post. As the man scampered away, his eyes returned to the raging dogfights in the sky and the bombers dropping on nearly defenseless ships. "Damnit all, we ain't going to be helping. Unless you can do something?"

    All Utah could do was shake her head, "I can't. I wish I could, but I can't do anything like this."

    "Figures. Well, keep an eye on things, Utah. Don't want to be caught with our pants down." Jackson patted the battleship's shoulder, before moving to gather his crew up. Utah didn't fail to hear what he said under his breath, however. "Not that we can do much of anything like this."

    And the thing was, he wasn't wrong. Utah knew better than anyone that she was completely useless like this. So useless, the Japanese planes weren't even bothering to attack her. Their fighters fought American fighters, before diving down to strafe little Monaghan. A flaming P-36 fell from the sky, crashing into a hangar. Flames and smoke billowed into the air.

    Utah's hand clenched on her railing, as a Japanese bomber- flames rolling across its fuselage from a burning engine -dove into West Virginia's bridge. She could see the elegant battleship falling to the side, as her head began to bleed. If she wasn't already de--dead, from the five torpedoes that had slammed into her side.

    "Stop this, you bastards! Stop hurting my family!"

    That was Nevada, burning and listing by the bow...but refusing to go down without a fight. The second oldest battleship in the fleet continued to fire into the air, despite the flames rising from her hull. The Japanese seemed content to ignore her now, focusing their efforts on the larger ships. Or, perhaps, distracted by the fighters and their own losses.

    "Cali...Cali, talk to me!" Tennessee's frantic cries were like a knife to her mother's heart. The pained cries of a sister, looking at her only sibling dying in front of her. Trying desperately to deny what she was seeing. "Don't die Cali! Please, don't die!"

    "It should be me." Utah didn't even hesitate to say that sentence. She knew the looks her crew would send her. She didn't care.

    It should have been her dying. Any mother would die for her child, if they loved them. And Utah loved her children more than anything, more than even her own life.

    "You...you..." Soft-spoken Pennsy sounded beyond words. Ari's big sister never raised her voice, never had a temper. And now she sounded nothing more than like she wanted to murder the ones attacking. "Monsters! How can you do something like this?! To defenseless targets?!"

    The Japanese didn't answer, of course. A bomber dropped its payload on a destroyer- Utah couldn't see which one -setting off a sympathetic magazine detonation. The flames thrown into the air rivaled Cali, flaming debris and who knew what else falling down atop of the dock and a tanker. Utah could only hope that it didn't explode as well.

    "I have to do something," Utah muttered. Her hands broke the railing they had been clenching, but she didn't notice. Her grey dress was stained with soot, and she didn't notice. "I can't just watch this. My daughters are out there, dying, and I can't do anything about it. I have to find some way to help!"

    She also didn't notice the sound of aircraft engines, much closer than before.

    "Bombers!" That panicked cry was the only warning Utah had. "Fish in the water!"

    It was only enough to turn her head, before her legs were knocked out from under her. Sharp rivers of pure pain ran up her body, like fire racing along her legs. Blood flowed freely, staining her deck red...and Utah could no longer move her lower body. Her head swam and stars floated in front of her eyes, as tears flowed down her cheeks.

    I--I can't move.

    What seemed like an eternity passed, before Captain Jackson was by her side. The old engineer was bleeding himself, having been tossed to the deck along with cracking his head on a rail. But he was still moving.

    "Goddamnit...Utah, can you walk?" Jackson's gruff voice was filled with a layer of honest concern, as his dark eyes trailed up and down Utah's crippled body.

    And all she could do was shake her head, biting her lip to avoid crying out in pain. Her dress was ruined, blood seeping into the once-pristine fabric. And water was lapping up against her deck already.

    "I can't leave my hull, Joseph," Utah forced a smile to her face, as her engineer/captain reached down to brush her grey hair from her increasingly pale face.

    "I could carry ya," Jackson tried to lighten the mood. He failed.

    For Utah shook her head, tears freely flowing down her face, "You and I both know you can't. Joseph, please, get to the island. Survive."

    When it looked like he would protest, Utah shakily brought one of her hands up and placed it against his lips. She groaned with the effort even that took, her old hull rapidly filling with water. The demilitarization had taken away all the defenses she once had. Her time was short.

    And she would not see her beloved engineer die with her.

    "I always knew I would die, here." Utah's voice was barely above a whisper now, as she felt herself rapidly fading away. "Please, don't stay here. Live. That's all I ever wanted..."

    Whatever Jackson would have said was lost, as he simply nodded. The man leaned down and placed a gentle, entirely at odds with his scarred visage, kiss on Utah's forehead. Brushing her hair one last time, the Captain shakily got to his feet on her tilted deck. He brought his hand up in a sharp salute, before turning and jumping into the water.

    Utah smiled as he did, letting her eyes drift closed.

    I--I'm sorry everyone. I did everything I could, but this still happened, didn't it?

    Despite everything we tried, some of you still died. Despite everything I did, I still died.

    Was this fate? Destiny? I don't know, and I don't know if it really matters. I'm going to die and not see this war. But, as long as my Captain survives...as long as some of my daughters survive...we'll win.

    Admiral Thompson. Ari. Sara. Enterprise.

    They'll make sure of it. I don't want to die. I don't want to leave you all. But, maybe I can. And maybe everything will work out in the end. Farewell...

    As her energy rapidly began to fade, Utah resigned herself to dying. At least everyone else would survive, and that was what mattered in the end...right? She could die peacefully, content in the knowledge that those who sank this day would be raised. That they would go on to pay the Japanese back one-hundred fold. And she wasn't needed for that, was she?

    She would just lay here, forgotten and resting at la--

    "Sons of bitches!"

    Utah's grey eyes snapped open. Her weary arms pulled her along her rapidly tilting deck, to look at what she had heard.

    She wished she hadn't.

    This is...you monsters!

    Japanese fighters had dove out of the sky, strafing between her sinking hull and Ford Island. Blood was in the water...along with members of her crew, floating lifelessly in the surf. Utah felt fire rage in her dead boilers, her anger rushing to the surface. She had never felt such rage before. Jackson was not visible among the corpses...but that didn't mean he was alive either.

    And the thought of him being shot like a fish in a barrel, of her crew dying when they should have reached safety, had Utah pulling herself to her feet.

    Even as her hull sank beneath her, the battleship stood on broken legs and glared at the Japanese fighters coming back for another pass. Those bastards wanted her crew? She wouldn't let them.

    I won't let you kill anyone else. I won't let you!

    -0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-​

    Donald Locklear would be the first to admit he was a cocky son of a bitch. He considered himself an ace, and the best pilot in Hawaii. Part of him had been itching to get into combat long before now, though hardly like this. So to say he was more than a bit frustrated with this Japanese pilot would be an understatement. The man's maddeningly maneuverable fighter refused to sit still.

    It took everything Donald had just to keep himself alive, leave alone get in a position to shoot. This headon pass was his best chance, and it would only work if those twenty mils didn't shred him first.

    "Come on you bastard, let's dance." Donald still couldn't keep a grin off his face.

    He thought the same might be true for the Japanese pilot as well, as their planes rapidly closed the distance. Only to be suddenly and violently forced to break off, as five-inch flak began to burst all around.

    "What in the hell?!" The American yelped, as his P-40 began to roll away from the ground fire. "Watch it you...you..."

    To the day he died, Donald Locklear would not be able to properly explain what he felt that day. Looking down on the capsized form of USS Utah, as flak fire began to burst from the ruined hull. Impossible flak fire.

    From an impossible figure.


    Surprise!

    To be completely honest, this is something I've planned from the start. That it works out to be chapter 40 (thus, a nice even number) works for me. But yes, there's a reason I've been teasing this at multiple points. From multiple different countries, be it the Americans, Italians or Germans. Things are going to get fun in the future.

    Also, for those keeping track:

    Nevada: Two bomb hits, one five-inch magazine detonated.

    California: Multiple hits, one massive detonation. Sinking rapidly.

    WeeVee: Several hits, including one suicide bomber to the bridge.

    Oklahoma: Several torpedo hits, sinking.

    Arizona: At least one bomb direct hit, one near-miss.

    Next chapter...may or may not be up tonight, depending on how fast I can write it. Won't be quite as long as this one regardless.

    (also, another cameo for those eagle-eyed among you)
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Nice reference with Tommy Conlin. also, Utah is about to show the IJN some serious MSSB.
     
    Ouch.

    And while Arizona pissed off the USA as a whole.....if California goes up as the Martyr of Pearl, Japan just pissed off the one State where making things personal, is a disaster unto itself. As California ALONE (even in 1941) has an economy nearly 50% greater than Japan's entire gross national economy. Yeah, they were pissed as it is OTL. But to kill the ship named after the state? In a surprise attack? Californians wouldn't sleep until the war is over, which is terrifying to think about at the sheer volume of supplies and construction they'd be able to crank out.
     
    Last edited:
    Utah... needs all the hugs. Gather the Fletch... wait, crap. They haven't been built yet.
     
    Last edited:
    Skywalker_T-65 said:
    Never before had she imagined what it would feel like, to hear men bleeding out on her decks. To feel the screams of men burning in their bunks, cut off by fires set by a Japanese bomb. Hearing and seeing, behind her eyes, sailors drowning as they frantically banged on hatches sealed to prevent flooding from a torpedo that had gone underneath Vestal alongside her. Ari felt each and every man die. She heard their pleas for help.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Omniscience of everything in and around a ship is not always a good thing for a ship spirit, as we've seen both now and in the past.

    Skywalker_T-65 said:
    "Oklahoma's taking on water!" That shout came from a messenger, relaying information from the radio room. "Counterflooding is keeping her even, but she's going to sink!"

    "Okie..." The grey haired battleship went unnoticed by that man, as she tightly clenched at her Captain's arm.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    So, she still sinks. At least in this timeline, she can be revived/raised.

    Skywalker_T-65 said:
    It was only enough to turn her head, before her legs were knocked out from under her. Sharp rivers of pure pain ran up her body, like fire racing along her legs. Blood flowed freely, staining her deck red...and Utah could no longer move her lower body. Her head swam and stars floated in front of her eyes, as tears flowed down her cheeks.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    :o
    Sounds like fatal hits to her boilers. Just like her daughter, it seems she could not escape being a casualty. :cry:

    Skywalker_T-65 said:
    To the day he died, Donald Locklear would not be able to properly explain what he felt that day. Looking down on the capsized form of USS Utah, as flak fire began to burst from the ruined hull. Impossible flak fire.

    From an impossible figure.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Do we see the emergence of MSSB? Since she had no munitions on board (at least if I read the conversation between her and Jackson correctly), it's a possible explanation.
     
    So Ari semi-summoned herself to the point that she's interacting with her crew now, and Utah sank but summoned herself and is fighting back as a shipgirl? I hope her Captain made it off, because those two need to reconnect after this.
     
    Shit. Something I just realized. If Utah is now a fully-fledged shipgirl, it can't be revealed. At all. If the Axis learned you can summon up the spirit of a sunken ship...

    Bad. Very Bad.

    Germany might have faint indications about shipgirls, so they might not know, and hopefully, Schrieber will keep it that way. Not that big an issue

    But Japan? If they learn that their ships have a chance at a second life? The number of casualties they can inflict with desperation attacks increased a lot. Even if the pilots aren't believed when they report a female with the fire power of a battleship attacking them, the carriergirls can see what their pilots see. They'll know. And they might share with other units of the IJN.

    Of course, this assumes that the IJN is competent for once.
     
    Now the girls can somehow summon themselves? There better be some kind of limit to this because it is completely OP. It is like making two ships for the price of one.

    At least Utah should get a Dying Moment of Awesome. Arizona is still 50-50 if she doesn't fully sink.
     
    SlyOverlord said:
    Now the girls can somehow summon themselves? There better be some kind of limit to this because it is completely OP. It is like making two ships for the price of one.

    At least Utah should get a Dying Moment of Awesome. Arizona is still 50-50 if she doesn't fully sink.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Well, Utah's at least partly capsized already. Which means she's useless, to humans. But at least some of the mounts can point in the right direction, even if no people can direct them as such.
     
    Burning Baron said:
    Well, Utah's at least partly capsized already. Which means she's useless, to humans. But at least some of the mounts can point in the right direction, even if no people can direct them as such.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    "From an impossible figure"

    Yeah, I suspect Utah is in full MSSB form right now. Arizona isn't a shipgirl, yet, she's more of... hm... a shade? She's got bullets going through her. I seem to recall in one chapter one of the shipgirls getting chastised by her Admiral for re-arranging his desk so he couldn't find anything, so having them be able to interact with things around them isn't to far out of the ordinary, it's just little things. Right now, though, 'zona is pissed, so I suspect she's doing the shipgirl version of lifting a truck off someone after a car accident, all adrenaline. Whereas Utah sank.

    However, now that I think about it some more, I'm not certain Utah self summoned entirely on her own here. There are currently a whole bunch of her crew dying around her, and her friends and their crews as well. People are likely praying for salvation, calling out to someone to save them; I think something answered and let her come back, although I could be totally wrong here. I do have to wonder if she's got her training ship fit-out or has her main guns back, though.
     
    Last edited:
    SlyOverlord said:
    Now the girls can somehow summon themselves? There better be some kind of limit to this because it is completely OP. It is like making two ships for the price of one.

    At least Utah should get a Dying Moment of Awesome. Arizona is still 50-50 if she doesn't fully sink.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    To me it doesn't seem like it is a two-for-one deal. USS Utah has sunk. Utah, being pissed off enough that the Japs are killing HER BOYS decided to punch reality with all her rage and has summoned to save them.

    Also, go Arizona for appearing to more of her crew. Is she going to continue to show how inhuman she is? Possibly carring more ammo then is humanly possible, maybe forcing a water tight hatch that is jammed half-way closed?

    However, now that I think about it some more, I'm not certain Utah self summoned entirely on her own here. There are currently a whole bunch of her crew dying around her, and her friends and their crews as well. People are likely praying for salvation, calling out to someone to save them; I think something answered and let her come back, although I could be totally wrong here. I do have to wonder if she's got her training ship fit-out or has her main guns back, though.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    What; Her crew were calling out to anyone to save them, and She answered the calls of Her Boys?
     
    Last edited:
    You guys are assuming that Utah's self-summoning etc means she's sticking around long term.

    For all we know, this stunt is only going to last a short while and she's intending to take down as many planes as possible before she vanishes:
    To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
     
    Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Remove ads
    Back
    Top