Fleetgirls at Floodtide (Azur Lane/1900s Alternate History)

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[X] Launch CAP fighters from Levi, scouts to the south from Bunker Hill, strike planes ready to launch on both decks
 
Adhoc vote count started by Erien on Jan 1, 2025 at 2:44 PM, finished with 14 posts and 10 votes.
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Dangit, got caught in the New Year celebrations and missed the vote! Granted I would have voted on the compromise choice, but now I shall be more worried about the outcome!
 
Comte de Grasse
  • Apocrypha
    • Thanks to Malicia for the comm~

    A character for later.

    —

    Comte de Grasse skipped from one dune to the next, singing softly to herself. "Pour retrouver ma douce amie~, blue hair shifting behind her, hanging lazily in the water, she craned her head up, staring through the dark murk that surrounded the port… and smiled. "Oh, mes bouées ouh là ouh lala~"

    She stared up at the destroyer, judging it for a moment. It had no… beauty, it was an ugly harsh thing, a German thing. Her hand moved to her chin, rubbing at it as a fish swam by. Now, she thought to herself. If she was German where would she put the cube? On the bridge? No, too exposed, the citadel? She smirked, the thought of that dinky little ship having a citadel almost made her laugh. But yes, the center. She would bet on that.

    She tapped her feet against the sand, then she crouched, placing one hand against the ocean floor. It was a 'talent' of hers, and a useful one at that. One of the very few non-submersible shipgirls that could swim. A benefit of her construction she had never really thought about. A useless quirk before… now? She kicks off against the ground, sand exploded around her as she tore through the water like a torpedo, within a second she was half the distance to the ship. Before that second passed, she was on and through it. Her body crashed into the lower hull and into the ship. With the sound of screaming metal the ship wrenched open around her, water pouring in as she burst inside of a dimly lit, rather ugly space. Inside was a small, dinky little pedestal upon which the Wisdom Cube sat, in the corner of her eye she could see her appearing, a small little thing with sharp points and white hair.

    In another time, perhaps.

    *BANG*

    The revolver in her hand bucked, and dual 5" guns slammed their rounds into the cube. It shattered into little more than motes of blue glowing shards that shot across the room like grenade shrapnel. The white-haired shipgirl only had a single moment to look shocked before she disappeared as well. Walking over to the pedestal, and ignoring the sound of shouts from nearby. Comte de Grasse stretched her arms above her head, water had begun to fill the chamber, but it was sealed, watertight, and in a moment it wasn't going to matter anyway. Reaching down to her side she produced her own cube, and placed it gently onto the pedestal.

    "Pour retrouver ma douce amie~"

    Screaming filled the halls as the steam pipes just outside the door burst, boiling the men in the hallway to death. She turned her head briefly, looking as a hand slapped against the glass window of the door, then smiled. Smiled as every control system across the ship broke at once, the doors to the engineering chamber locked, and the electrics across the bridge popped and sparked. Reaching down, she produced a cigarette, lighting it off of one of the many fires sparked by her firing off her rigging. "Oh, mes bouées ouh là ouh lala~"

    The ship jerked as it reversed, pulling itself away from port, the mooring lines snapping. Then, she blew out smoke as every light in the ship went dark. Distantly she could hear a sad, futile banging against the door to the chamber she was in. She smiled, even as the water reached her knees. "Nazis…"

    Then another pipe burst, as her 'prize' sailed its merry way south to her actual ship-half, and a crew of rather eager marines. She sat atop the pedastal, kicking her legs in the air, even as she felt men scrambling throughout the ship.

    "Pique la baleine, joli baleinier, pique la baleine, je veux naviguer. Pique la baleine, joli baleinier, pique la baleine, je veux naviguer~"
     
  • Apocrypha
    • 2.9 - Bonding New
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    • View: https://youtu.be/cPW0Ge8QshM?si=JS8lO0FlLZaumB0k

    [Launch CAP fighters from Levi, scouts to the south from Bunker Hill, strike planes ready to launch on both decks.]

    Thanks to @Armoury for the beta!

    —

    "Leviathan,"

    "Another message, Admiral?" Leviathan asks.

    "No. It's about our planes."

    The smile dips from Leviathan's face. "Sir?"

    "Nothing to worry about Leviathan." I say, my voice level and calm. "Once we take up stations have our air group handle the CAP." I turn my head towards Sebastian. "Radio the Bunker Hill, have them send their airgroup south to scout out anyone heading out way. I want strike planes on both decks ready to launch on a moment's notice. I'm not taking any chances with siren ambushes out here, we need to be ready to fight within seconds."

    "Siren ambushes sir?"

    I nod my head. "The mirror sea phenomenon. I've run into it more than once."

    The color drains from Leviathan's face, and she turns her head to look over the deep azure of the Atlantic. The Mirror Sea, I didn't know the science behind it, frankly I don't know if anyone did. Shipgirls themselves were still a mystery, and they had awoken in response to the alien invasion. Those who claimed to understand the aliens were crackpots at best, maniacs at worst. Either way, it is a space in reality that has been… changed, it is, in essence, a large box they could put on top of reality from somewhere else. The problem isn't the box in itself, it is what is in the box. Sirenic ships, already launched torpedoes, aircraft. There isn't any rules to it, and it is instantaneous. One is either ready for it at all times, or once is vulnerable to it. Sirenic ships, non-humanoids, were not particularly difficult to deal with. They were 'dumb' cudgels that simply fired their guns at their nearest target and sailed directly into danger with little thought to their own 'lives.' But there were many, and they could attack at any moment.

    "I'll prepare the CAP immediately sir." Leviathan replies.

    Distantly an alarm rings, and I hear shouts from the deck below. It isn't panic, it is orders barked, men working together. Then a second later I hear the thrum of a half dozen propellers spinning up at once. The planes have been sitting on the deck for some time now, fueled, loaded, and ready to launch at a moment's notice. Now, as I feel the ship shift underneath me, carving south away from Kidd's group, I see the first of the hellcats roar off the deck, the black helmet emblem on the tail glinting in the light before it disappears from view.

    I watch them fly off in pairs, one, followed by another, then another. Water flew off of them as they left the deck, spray from the ocean that had collected off them flying off violently as they picked up speed, the trails catching the light of the encroaching sunset like a spray of gold in the air.

    "Admiral." Leviathan says, drawing me back.

    "Yes Leviathan?"

    "Shall I take mine out as well?" the carrier asks.

    I blink, slowly. Then turn to face the woman. Her expression has changed now, whether she is deliberately putting on a brave face, or she is feeling better I couldn't say. But now she has the littlest bit of a smile to her. It is rather cute. I note. "You're what, Leviathan?"

    "My own scout plane sir?"

    "You're one of the carriers that has those? Why didn't you mention this?"

    "I didn't see a good reason to use, and…" Leviathan looks to the bridge crew, then leans in close, her voice far softer. "I didn't need more reason to be worried about submarines."

    Every shipgirl has their own quirks, this can be further broken up into the actual class and role of ship. Destroyers were far faster in their human forms than even other shipgirls, light cruisers were speedy as well, and had the advantage of freakishly enhanced senses. Heavy Cruisers were a good mix of just about everything and battleship rigging is just about the most powerful weapon that could feasibly be handled by something that looked human. Submarines could move and work underwater, something few other shipgirls could. And carriers? Carriers had their own, private stock of planes that were about as real as their bodies were. Namely, not. Fairly useless in a fight, their weaponry did little to anything that wasn't sirenic in nature. But it allowed them to scout, and the performance of the aircraft is usually far above anything mankind could make.

    It is, also, quite rare.

    "Are you comfortable flying, sir?"

    I smile. "I was a naval aviator before I was a destroyerman."

    "Then I would invite you to join me." Leviathan offers.

    I stare at her for a moment, then look at Sebastian. "XO, take over, make sure Bunker Hill's air group does as asked.."

    "Aye sir."

    Then Leviathan takes my hand in hers, and we are gone.

    —

    One moment I am standing in the familiar comfort of the bridge, the next, I am in the open air with the wind slapping against my face. It is an open cockpit plane, it is an old open cockpit plane. Corrugated metal surrounded me, gone were the sleek lines of modern aviation. I am sitting in the right chair of the two person cockpit, shielded, theoretically, from the wind by a curved pane of glass that ran around the cockpit but not above it. The avionics are… delightfully primitive, namely, five glass dials and little else. I stare at them for a moment, then jerk in my seat slightly as the plane screams forward, the airframe humming violently as we pass a climbing hellcat like it isn't even there. My eyes shift to a dial on the panel, The dial is… wrong, namely the km/h, which has a hard stop at 250, is well past that, several new notches have been drawn in by hand going from 250 to 400. And the clock dial was pointed firmly around 380. The plane turns sharply, but not roughly, and I find myself staring down at the Leviathan from a good… I glance to the side, a kilometer up.

    My eyes shift more to the left, and I see Leviathan herself sitting in the pilot's seat, hand on the wooden steering wheel. A smile on her face and glee in her eyes. Reaching up, she pulls down a tarp that slaps down above the glass and hooks on there, then she turns her attention to me. The cockpit noticeably, not entirely, but noticeably quieter. She raises a gloved hand to point out my window. "Spain. It has been some time."

    I turn my head to see the rocky coast in the distance. It's little more than a dim, shadowed outline from here. But it's a landmark regardless. "Portugal," I correct. "Though the point is moot."

    "We aren't worried about land aviation, correct?"

    I shake my head. "Not from Spain, and if they somehow got planes from Africa to greet us I'll be more impressed than upset about it." I glance up towards the roof, the jerry-rigged tarp, and the modified dashboard. "Don't just tune up cars?"

    "Cars, planes and models."

    I smile. "Should I be worried about one of your model ships outrunning the carrier?"

    "Not likely," Leviathan replies with a smirk back. "Why do you ask, Admiral?"

    "I have a destroyer in my task group that has taken to her turrets like a child would to Lincoln Logs. Forgive me my suspicioun of mechanically minded shipgirls."

    "I merely have a desire to tinker if you must know Admiral. A gift from my first Captain back when I was a more refined vessel. Who could just as easily be found in the engine room as he could the bridge. Much to the displeasure of his staff I must say."

    I look around the cockpit for some time, then glance back to see a passenger cabin. "F13?"

    "Junkers, yes sir." Leviathan says, "the first passenger plane, German of course. I find she controls just as well as any modern aircraft, and her accommodations are simply delightful."

    "She has a charm to her, to be certain." I admit.

    "So, tell me Admiral, what drew you to flight? You mentioned you were an aviator."

    "Briefly, only briefly." I admit. "I studied it in Annapolis and received flight training. But the navy needed more regular sailors than it needed airmen, and we hardly had much in the way of carriers." I look at the shipgirl, watching as she takes the plane south now, blowing past the scouts Bunker was sending out. The cockpit was an interesting mix of the scent of oil and her perfume. "But I saw stunt shows as a young man, and I was intrigued ever since." I shrug my shoulders pitifully. "But alas, I'm an old man now. They won't want me in the front seat of a fighter anytime soon."

    "I could give you the controls if you want?" Leviathan offers.

    I think about it for a moment before shaking my head. "I appreciate it, but no. Not when we have enemies to be worried about. I do appreciate the offer though Leviathan. Are you finally warming up to me, then?"

    Leviathan rolls her eyes, turning her attention back to flying the plane. "You aren't bad sir, for an Amerikan."

    I swear she put on more of her accent as she said that.

    "But regardless, the only way we are getting through this is by working together," Leviathan continues. "Even if I disagree with your choices at times, I have little choice but to trust your judgment."

    "You are absolutely free to give me your opinion Leviathan, when it comes to matters of the ship I trust your expertise. We just can't be seen arguing in front of the crew."

    Leviathan hums, saying nothing for a good minute as she brings the plane into a higher climb. Then. "Morale, I know."

    "Morale means little on the bridge, they do their job because they have to." I reply. "But we have to appear as a bastion of stability for everyone. If I crack, if you crack. They crack. The ship gets their mood from us. Officers and enlisted."

    "I'm aware, sir."

    I smile. "I'm an Admiral, I'm allowed to repeat myself."

    "Yes, Admiral." Leviathan says, a teasing lilt to her voice. She then lifts her head, scanning out the window towards the horizon. "Nothing but open ocean, it will be two hours until we start to see the strait."

    I shake my head. "No reason for us to go out that far, especially since we don't know the status of Gibraltar."

    "Wouldn't it be a good time to check on it?"

    "Not when we have enemy fleets to worry about. Now is the last time for distractions, and assuming this operation goes well, Gibraltar is next regardless. And it will likely be us at that."

    Leviathan hums again, saying nothing. The tarp snaps with the wind, going taut then relaxing again as she changes pitch and elevation. The engine was barely audible over the sound of the wind, but I could feel it. The entire airframe vibrated with its power.

    "Still using the L5 engine?" I ask.

    Leviathan jerks her head towards me, shock on her face. "How did…" Then she grins. "No sir, I bought an L55 and got the supercharger working."

    I lean up slightly to look at the hood, "how'd you fit the extra cylinders?"

    "I cut out the bottom of the nose and attached the engine upside-down."

    "Madwoman."

    "Some would say genius."

    I snort. "I expect you to show it to me later then, Ingraham would likely be interested as well."

    "You wish to see a ladies internals? For shame sir." Leviathan says, mocking surprise.

    "I'm sure it is as well maintained as the rest of you," I reply.

    Leviathan smirks. "Sir, I will have you know you are far from the first officer to flirt with me."

    "Am I flirting? Here I thought I was just complimenting my quarters."

    Leviathan laughs, a rich, melodic sound that fills the cockpit. "I shall see what can be done once we are done with this engagement."

    "I'll look forward to it." I reply, I had an overexcited destroyer, a mad scientist destroyer, a Battleship that possibly had shell-shock, a carrier that was trying to figure out how to… at least pretend to be human, and a slightly possibly xenophobic carrier that was a bit of a greasemonkey. Truly I had the most normal group in the United States Navy. I turn my head back to Leviathan, admiring her for a moment. She is wholly focused on flying now, not hard in concentration, but simply… living it, moving with every motion of the plane, every turn.

    She loves flying, despite missing who she 'used' to be.

    That is something to note for later.

    This is, also, the closest I've had to privacy with the woman in a while, and patrols, while important, were… boring, at the best of times. With that in mind, I-

    —

    Choose two.

    [] [Ask more about her mechanical past]

    [] [Ask about her 'ideals' she had when I first came aboard]

    [] [Ask about her fears regarding combat]

    [] [Ask her if she has any plans when we rest in England]

    [] [Ask her if she has any other 'projects' I should be aware of]

    —

    AN: So, Floodtide, sorry for some people turned away by the reveal of what the conspiracy was. This was in the works for a long time now, going back to the original version of the story, I just never had a chance to fit it in. I'm doing my best with trying to tell this tale, and I'm sorry if some people don't like the direction it's going. I just hope you all can at least let me continue trying and working at this. This story is by far the most difficult one I write, and I try to do my best with it. Thank you for reading.
     
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    • Erien said:
    "Are you comfortable flying, sir?"

    I smile. "I was a naval aviator before I was a destroyerman."

    "Then I would invite you to join me." Leviathan offers.
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    D'aww, she's warming up and asking Anderson on a date! Huzzah!

    Erien said:
    "Spain. It has been some time."

    I turn my head to see the rocky coast in the distance. It's little more than a dim, shadowed outline from here. But it's a landmark regardless. "Portugal," I correct. "Though the point is moot."
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    Don't worry Leviathan, it's a common mistake, lots of people forget about Portugal.

    Erien said:
    I snort. "I expect you to show it to me later then, Ingraham would likely be interested as well."

    "You wish to see a ladies internals? For shame sir." Leviathan says, mocking surprise.

    "I'm sure it is as well maintained as the rest of you," I reply.

    Leviathan smirks. "Sir, I will have you know you are far from the first officer to flirt with me."
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    To be fair Leviathan, I think you started it! And I notice you didn't object to Ingraham coming along to view your... ladies internals.

    [X] [Ask her if she has any plans when we rest in England]
    [X] [Ask her if she has any other 'projects' I should be aware of]
     
    [X] [Ask her if she has any plans when we rest in England]
    [X] [Ask her if she has any other 'projects' I should be aware of]
     
    It was nice chapter. I hope bonding with Levi will atleast alleviate her fear in combat.
    [X] [Ask about her 'ideals' she had when I first came aboard]

    [X] [Ask about her fears regarding combat]
     
    [X] [Ask about her 'ideals' she had when I first came aboard]
    [X] [Ask about her fears regarding combat]

    Suppose we're trauma dumping aboard this plane, not sure it's the time but if we're going for it may as well go for broke.

    Erien said:
    So, Floodtide, sorry for some people turned away by the reveal of what the conspiracy was. This was in the works for a long time now, going back to the original version of the story, I just never had a chance to fit it in. I'm doing my best with trying to tell this tale, and I'm sorry if some people don't like the direction it's going.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    I'm still in it for the ride! Being as kind as I can to a source material I enjoy, AL has never been carried by it's masterfully crafted story, it's carried on cute girls with interesting personalities embodying the subject matter of a lot of people's interests. To me the concept is no more out there than much of the actual story, and we get more nuanced characters (plus some excellent OCs) and a bit of actual naval tactics.
     
    Erien said:
    So, Leviathan is opening up it seems. People like?
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    She be adorable! We finally got a chance to privately bond over a mutual enjoyment of flight time, and she's even flirting with us about exploring her boltholes. Sassy woman!

    [X] [Ask her if she has any plans when we rest in England]

    [X] [Ask her if she has any other 'projects' I should be aware of]
     
    I want to ask: How deep and how long can a shipgirl dive? 1000 feet and 12 hours ? Or 200 and 5 hour at best like the contemporary subs?
     
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