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Harry And The Shipgirls: Prisoner of Shipping (A HP/KanColle Snippet Collection)
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Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Snippet 1: Harry Leferts
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Craning his head back, Sirius blinked some at the building in front of him. It was obviously new from how it appeared and was in the Midlands. Even from where he was, he could spot people patrolling around the walls. Then he looked forward as he was guided through two gates, "You know, I broke out of one prison already..."
On Nagato's face was a thin smile, "Yes, but I think that you might find this one a bit harder. And that said, you don't strike me as the sort to screw up your chance at freedom on purpose."
That only got her a shrug from the wizard as he walked beside her, Kingsley, Hestia, Mad-Eye, and Tonks begins him, "True."
Before much else could be said, they all noted an older man walking towards them. Upon the man reaching them, Nagato nodded and shook his hand, "Warden Matthews."
A thin smile was on the warden who nodded back, "Miss Nagato." With another nod to the wizards and witches, he cleared his throat, "Welcome to Her Majesty's Prison, Ironstone."
Eyebrow raised, Mad-Eye frowned a bit, "Bit plain, isn't it?"
In return, Matthews gave a humourless chuckle, "And Azkaban rolls off the tongue, I suppose?" Once the snorts we're done, he turned and gestured for them to follow, "Well, let us get you all sorted out, Mister Black. After all, you are our first prisoner here."
That surprised all the magicals with Tonks blinking. After all, this was apparently a sort of reward for her, "He's your first prisoner? Seriously?"
Grinning, Sirius gave her a look, "Hey, that's my name!"
All the Metamorph did was give him a look, "According to my Mum, that was old by the time you were three."
Narrowing his eyes, Matthews frowned, "Your mother knows him?"
With a wince as she realized how it looked, Tonks nodded, "Second cousins, but, um... yeah. Let's just say that my Mum for the longest time thought that he got what he had coming and leave it at that."
Simply nodding, the Warden didn't comment further though he made a mental note, "I see. Well... Ironstone, as you noticed, is a new prison designed specifically for magicals. It is in fact three prisons, each separated by walls. Each one is for an different category, A, B, or C. Each are further broken down by gender. Mister Black here will be going to the C category for males." Continuing to talk as they walked, he gave a nod, "I will not speak of the methods of security except to state that we got no less then three different ways to prevent portkeys as well as just as many to stop Apparation. There are also anti-broomstick spells to prevent people from flying in that way."
Frowning, Hestia raised an eyebrow, "What about magical beasts?"
Matthews only gave her a smirk, "Well, we got choices. Such as the Boy's Rifles we have." If anything, his smirk grew at her obvious confusion. Entering the facility, he nodded to a young woman behind what looked like a glass window with a small open area. In front of the window stood another man who nodded, "Jackson here will take you for a quick shower and to be given your jumpsuit, Mister Black." Roughly fifteen minutes later found Sirius clad in a prison jumpsuit with his clothes in a bundle in his arms. Seeing that, Matthews gestured at the window, "Now Dorothy will take your items and will place them into a safe until you are released from our custody. I assure you, nothing will be damaged or taken."
Giving him a confused look, the wizard shrugged and handed her the items, with Dorothy placing the wand that was handed over by Kingsley into a locked, cast iron box. Both it and the other items were placed onto a cart as she quickly took down what items they were, when they were given, and to whom they were owned. Then she smiled and nodded, "Thank you for your patience."
And with that, she walked off with the cart as the Warden guided them through the prison until he came to a stop before a heavy looking door. Placing a key into the lock and going through several motions, he gave a grunt as he pulled it open, "Welcome, Mister Black, to your temporary cell during your stay here."
Neither Sirius nor the Aurors for the most part knew what to expect for the cell to be like. They were used to the Ministry Cells or perhaps Azkaban, which did not fill them with hope for what could await them. However, once the door was open they all blinked and felt their eyebrows raise. Inside the cream colored room, there was a bed along wall, with a barred, closed window above. Below said window, there was a desk with a small bookshelf and chair. As well, there was a toilet and sink, with a shelf unit next to it for whatever could be needed.
Stepping inside, Sirius boggled some before turning, "Uh... is this really a jail cell?"
Eyebrow raised, though whether in question or amusement none of the others knew, Matthews frowned, "Is there an issue, Mister Black?"
Quickly, the wizard shook his head and waved his hands, "No, no! But, uh... just..." Looking up at the light and glancing at the heater, he blinked, "Just... not used to this sort of thing. Didn't expect it to be like this..."
Matthews hummed a bit, but didn't comment on that. Instead, he pulled out a booklet and handed it to Sirius, "This is a late night, so we're going to give you this. Under normal circumstances, it is lights out at exactly ten at night. At that time, we will lock you into your cell after a check and will open the cells at exactly seven. When that happens, you can go to the mess hall and have breakfast. After that... it is up to you though you will be monitored."
Confused, Mad-Eye frowned and looked at him, "What do you mean by that?"
Hands behind his back, the Warden frowned, "Exactly how it sounds. On nice days, there is access to the exercise yard so that the inmates will be able to get fresh air. When the weather is not cooperative, there is an exercise room as well as a game room and a library. Each of those places have guards on duty for them."
Now it was Kingsley's turn to look confused, "May I ask why?"
Lips curling a bit, Matthews nodded, "You may. You see, it gives the inmates something to do, because a bored person is one who could cause trouble or... begin to have issues. To that end, I advise you look into the booklet." Gesturing at said item, he continued, "Inside there are various things that the prison offers from small jobs around the jail, such as tending to the community garden to cooking in the kitchens, to vocational and educational courses offered to those here so that they can improve their lives outside. We are trying to reform, not punish, inmates at this prison."
Sitting on the bed, Sirius bounced a bit and looked around, "Well... a lot better then my previous accommodations."
That got him a thin smile from the Warden, "Yes, we do try to be a good prison here."
With some final bits of advice, he backed out and then closed the door before locking Sirius in. Said wizard just laid back in his bed and decided to get some sleep while thinking of what he would do as a free man. One part of his mind was on his godson, while another part was on a certain Abyssal Princess and his promise to her.
Outside the cell, Matthews nodded and began walking as the Aurors followed. Mad-Eye's magical eye twisted in its socket to look back at the cell they just left and frowned, "That door will keep most of them locked in, even an Animagus... though that toilet seems to be a weakness."
Matthews gave a slight smile at that, "One would think so. But all the toilets here are charmed to prevent anything still alive from being flushed down them. The sinks themselves are similarly charmed. A rather nifty little feature as well."
A thoughtful look on his face, Kingsley looked around the empty cells around them, waiting for occupants. He remembered being dubious when Madame Bones had explained what the prison was for. That it had been built once it became apparent that the Statute would collapse as the muggle government would not allow for Azkaban to continue functioning as a prison.
Not that he disagreed with that idea in the slightest as even the minimum security wing was horrible.
From what he had seen though, thus far, Kingsley could only think that the muggles perhaps had the right idea. Turning to the Warden, he cleared his throat, "If I may, just how many people can fit in this prison?"
Looking at him, Matthews frowned, "In this specific wing, there is enough room for a hundred male inmates. The female wing is a hundred more as well. Each level has enough room for two hundred inmates with a total room of about six hundred inmates. However, we can fit two per cell if absolutely needed and thus fit twelve hundred, but we don't expect that will be needed since this is a magical only prison considering certain... needs."
With a snort, Hestia rolled her eyes, "Certainly a lot better. Anyone here not only does not have to deal with Dementors, but have heat and everything."
Still walking, Alastor frowned, "Personally, I am not sure any of that exercise or education stuff will work. That bastard Mundungus won't ever turn from the shit he does." That got him chuckles and snorts as well as eyerolls from the other magicals, "But doesn't hurt to try, I suppose. If you pull off a damned miracle, I'll be the first to state that I am impressed." Turning his gaze on the Warden, he frowned, "What about the hardcore, are you going to let them have the same thing?"
Despite the frown on his own face, Matthews shrugged, "They will have the same opportunities as any other inmate. If they act up, privileges get taken away from them. That said, these... Death Eaters are unlikely to ever see the outside of the prison, same with any like them. Doesn't mean we can't make it comfortable enough though, no matter how much we might wish otherwise." Turning, he gave a look at the Aurors and one Hit Witch, "We're not monsters like they are, we're better then that."
Frowns on their own faces, the magical law enforcement didn't comment on that, though Tonks gave a slight nod. Then Kingsley spoke up again, "What about werewolves? They can be... troublesome, on the Full Moon."
To their surprise, Matthews chuckled and shook his head, "We are used to dealing with violent prisoners and mentally ill. While a bit tricky, we have come up with some cells that can hold them while transformed. Said cells are bare, but reinforced with the doors having special locks as well as magnets keeping them shut. We've tested them and even with their strength, they shouldn't be able to get out when transformed. That is not counting the barriers between their transformation cells and the rest of the prison, giving us time to respond. That said, each werewolf inmate will be given the Wolfsbane potion, paid for by Her Majesty's prison system on the Full Moon."
Now it was all the Aurors who were surprised, but they nodded as they were given a short tour of the facility. And each of them left impressed, though thoughtful as well.
On Nagato's face was a thin smile, "Yes, but I think that you might find this one a bit harder. And that said, you don't strike me as the sort to screw up your chance at freedom on purpose."
That only got her a shrug from the wizard as he walked beside her, Kingsley, Hestia, Mad-Eye, and Tonks begins him, "True."
Before much else could be said, they all noted an older man walking towards them. Upon the man reaching them, Nagato nodded and shook his hand, "Warden Matthews."
A thin smile was on the warden who nodded back, "Miss Nagato." With another nod to the wizards and witches, he cleared his throat, "Welcome to Her Majesty's Prison, Ironstone."
Eyebrow raised, Mad-Eye frowned a bit, "Bit plain, isn't it?"
In return, Matthews gave a humourless chuckle, "And Azkaban rolls off the tongue, I suppose?" Once the snorts we're done, he turned and gestured for them to follow, "Well, let us get you all sorted out, Mister Black. After all, you are our first prisoner here."
That surprised all the magicals with Tonks blinking. After all, this was apparently a sort of reward for her, "He's your first prisoner? Seriously?"
Grinning, Sirius gave her a look, "Hey, that's my name!"
All the Metamorph did was give him a look, "According to my Mum, that was old by the time you were three."
Narrowing his eyes, Matthews frowned, "Your mother knows him?"
With a wince as she realized how it looked, Tonks nodded, "Second cousins, but, um... yeah. Let's just say that my Mum for the longest time thought that he got what he had coming and leave it at that."
Simply nodding, the Warden didn't comment further though he made a mental note, "I see. Well... Ironstone, as you noticed, is a new prison designed specifically for magicals. It is in fact three prisons, each separated by walls. Each one is for an different category, A, B, or C. Each are further broken down by gender. Mister Black here will be going to the C category for males." Continuing to talk as they walked, he gave a nod, "I will not speak of the methods of security except to state that we got no less then three different ways to prevent portkeys as well as just as many to stop Apparation. There are also anti-broomstick spells to prevent people from flying in that way."
Frowning, Hestia raised an eyebrow, "What about magical beasts?"
Matthews only gave her a smirk, "Well, we got choices. Such as the Boy's Rifles we have." If anything, his smirk grew at her obvious confusion. Entering the facility, he nodded to a young woman behind what looked like a glass window with a small open area. In front of the window stood another man who nodded, "Jackson here will take you for a quick shower and to be given your jumpsuit, Mister Black." Roughly fifteen minutes later found Sirius clad in a prison jumpsuit with his clothes in a bundle in his arms. Seeing that, Matthews gestured at the window, "Now Dorothy will take your items and will place them into a safe until you are released from our custody. I assure you, nothing will be damaged or taken."
Giving him a confused look, the wizard shrugged and handed her the items, with Dorothy placing the wand that was handed over by Kingsley into a locked, cast iron box. Both it and the other items were placed onto a cart as she quickly took down what items they were, when they were given, and to whom they were owned. Then she smiled and nodded, "Thank you for your patience."
And with that, she walked off with the cart as the Warden guided them through the prison until he came to a stop before a heavy looking door. Placing a key into the lock and going through several motions, he gave a grunt as he pulled it open, "Welcome, Mister Black, to your temporary cell during your stay here."
Neither Sirius nor the Aurors for the most part knew what to expect for the cell to be like. They were used to the Ministry Cells or perhaps Azkaban, which did not fill them with hope for what could await them. However, once the door was open they all blinked and felt their eyebrows raise. Inside the cream colored room, there was a bed along wall, with a barred, closed window above. Below said window, there was a desk with a small bookshelf and chair. As well, there was a toilet and sink, with a shelf unit next to it for whatever could be needed.
Stepping inside, Sirius boggled some before turning, "Uh... is this really a jail cell?"
Eyebrow raised, though whether in question or amusement none of the others knew, Matthews frowned, "Is there an issue, Mister Black?"
Quickly, the wizard shook his head and waved his hands, "No, no! But, uh... just..." Looking up at the light and glancing at the heater, he blinked, "Just... not used to this sort of thing. Didn't expect it to be like this..."
Matthews hummed a bit, but didn't comment on that. Instead, he pulled out a booklet and handed it to Sirius, "This is a late night, so we're going to give you this. Under normal circumstances, it is lights out at exactly ten at night. At that time, we will lock you into your cell after a check and will open the cells at exactly seven. When that happens, you can go to the mess hall and have breakfast. After that... it is up to you though you will be monitored."
Confused, Mad-Eye frowned and looked at him, "What do you mean by that?"
Hands behind his back, the Warden frowned, "Exactly how it sounds. On nice days, there is access to the exercise yard so that the inmates will be able to get fresh air. When the weather is not cooperative, there is an exercise room as well as a game room and a library. Each of those places have guards on duty for them."
Now it was Kingsley's turn to look confused, "May I ask why?"
Lips curling a bit, Matthews nodded, "You may. You see, it gives the inmates something to do, because a bored person is one who could cause trouble or... begin to have issues. To that end, I advise you look into the booklet." Gesturing at said item, he continued, "Inside there are various things that the prison offers from small jobs around the jail, such as tending to the community garden to cooking in the kitchens, to vocational and educational courses offered to those here so that they can improve their lives outside. We are trying to reform, not punish, inmates at this prison."
Sitting on the bed, Sirius bounced a bit and looked around, "Well... a lot better then my previous accommodations."
That got him a thin smile from the Warden, "Yes, we do try to be a good prison here."
With some final bits of advice, he backed out and then closed the door before locking Sirius in. Said wizard just laid back in his bed and decided to get some sleep while thinking of what he would do as a free man. One part of his mind was on his godson, while another part was on a certain Abyssal Princess and his promise to her.
Outside the cell, Matthews nodded and began walking as the Aurors followed. Mad-Eye's magical eye twisted in its socket to look back at the cell they just left and frowned, "That door will keep most of them locked in, even an Animagus... though that toilet seems to be a weakness."
Matthews gave a slight smile at that, "One would think so. But all the toilets here are charmed to prevent anything still alive from being flushed down them. The sinks themselves are similarly charmed. A rather nifty little feature as well."
A thoughtful look on his face, Kingsley looked around the empty cells around them, waiting for occupants. He remembered being dubious when Madame Bones had explained what the prison was for. That it had been built once it became apparent that the Statute would collapse as the muggle government would not allow for Azkaban to continue functioning as a prison.
Not that he disagreed with that idea in the slightest as even the minimum security wing was horrible.
From what he had seen though, thus far, Kingsley could only think that the muggles perhaps had the right idea. Turning to the Warden, he cleared his throat, "If I may, just how many people can fit in this prison?"
Looking at him, Matthews frowned, "In this specific wing, there is enough room for a hundred male inmates. The female wing is a hundred more as well. Each level has enough room for two hundred inmates with a total room of about six hundred inmates. However, we can fit two per cell if absolutely needed and thus fit twelve hundred, but we don't expect that will be needed since this is a magical only prison considering certain... needs."
With a snort, Hestia rolled her eyes, "Certainly a lot better. Anyone here not only does not have to deal with Dementors, but have heat and everything."
Still walking, Alastor frowned, "Personally, I am not sure any of that exercise or education stuff will work. That bastard Mundungus won't ever turn from the shit he does." That got him chuckles and snorts as well as eyerolls from the other magicals, "But doesn't hurt to try, I suppose. If you pull off a damned miracle, I'll be the first to state that I am impressed." Turning his gaze on the Warden, he frowned, "What about the hardcore, are you going to let them have the same thing?"
Despite the frown on his own face, Matthews shrugged, "They will have the same opportunities as any other inmate. If they act up, privileges get taken away from them. That said, these... Death Eaters are unlikely to ever see the outside of the prison, same with any like them. Doesn't mean we can't make it comfortable enough though, no matter how much we might wish otherwise." Turning, he gave a look at the Aurors and one Hit Witch, "We're not monsters like they are, we're better then that."
Frowns on their own faces, the magical law enforcement didn't comment on that, though Tonks gave a slight nod. Then Kingsley spoke up again, "What about werewolves? They can be... troublesome, on the Full Moon."
To their surprise, Matthews chuckled and shook his head, "We are used to dealing with violent prisoners and mentally ill. While a bit tricky, we have come up with some cells that can hold them while transformed. Said cells are bare, but reinforced with the doors having special locks as well as magnets keeping them shut. We've tested them and even with their strength, they shouldn't be able to get out when transformed. That is not counting the barriers between their transformation cells and the rest of the prison, giving us time to respond. That said, each werewolf inmate will be given the Wolfsbane potion, paid for by Her Majesty's prison system on the Full Moon."
Now it was all the Aurors who were surprised, but they nodded as they were given a short tour of the facility. And each of them left impressed, though thoughtful as well.
Last edited:
Snippet 1: K9TheFirst1
And so, another look into what's going on in Magical Portugal. Specifically, the Minister of the Royal Enchanted Ministry, Agostinho de Silva (no relation to Max de Silva, one of the POWs trapped on St Mathews by the Abyssals). I hope I managed to convincingly show that he and Albus are old friends.
Royal Oratory Hall, The Mystic Quarter, Lisbon, Magical Capitol of the Royal Enchanted Ministry, Portugal
The Royal Oratory Hall was as opulent as any structure of its title and age deserved. Finished in the late 18th century, the building was decorated in gold and exotic woods from the colonies, each seat upholstered in silk. It was intended to be the central lecture hall for the Enchanted Ministry's state school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Blanchogrotto. At the time of the hall's opening, the school was set to rival Hogwarts itself. The competition for students with Beauxbatons had already forced the leading competitor in Spain to close its doors in 1789, and with the ramifications of the Muggle Revolution reverberating in Magical France, Blanchogrotto was seen as the safer option to Beauxbatons for aristocrats to send their children, far from the chaos. Blanchogrotto had become so prestigious an institution, and had seemed fit to stand on secure footing, that the ministry entered long talks within the ICW to have the school registered as an official School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, the first to attain that distinction outside of the Mystical Trinity of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts… Then the Giggling Mushroom bubble burst 1797 and Magical Portugal's economy barely avoided total collapse. In order to balance the budget, the ministry was forced to sell off their spice plantation island, Ilha de Fera Cruz, to the ICW in 1803, and a year later Blanchogrotto was dismantled; the faculty and staff were quickly either hired on at the other Registered Schools in Europe, and then into the schools in name only cropping up in the Americas, or hired themselves out as private tutors.
The ROH was the last building of that old institution still in existence, requisitioned by the ministry as a convenient place for public announcements to be given, for musical concerts, and – such as that evening – to host the Annual Youth Debate.
"-so to use your logic, the only response to a muggle-"
"-I fear that my opponent relies on an emotive ploy rather than hard facts, such as-"
And on and on it had gone all day yesterday, and much of today. Fortunately, this was the last debate, the last two young adults standing. The collection had included over a dozen men and women, all recent or near-recent graduates of the likes of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts – though predominantly the former, it being the closest school. All had focused their educations on civil service. Be it the efficient workings of bureaucracy, the fundamental practices of an effective tax code, or the subtle Dark Arts of Politics and Diplomacy, the Youth Debate had for over a century and a half proven to be a showcase of talent and potential in future leaders for the Enchanted, and later on the Royal Enchanted, Ministry. In essence, it had served as an informal job interview before public officials, and the rare curious member of the public.
And for one hundred and one years, hundreds of such seventeen or eighteen-year-olds all put up their best effort at civil discourse before a single man, the man that had helped prevent the Statute from breaking when the mad muggles deposed their rightful king, and ever since had overseen the Royal Enchanted Ministry and her stability in an increasingly unstable world: Minister Agostinho de Silva.
The man sat in the Minister's Box, back straight, looking to all that craned to see him like a regal figure. His face inscrutable as he observed the debaters with the critical eye of a master who had worked the craft of display all of his one-hundred thirty-one years. His once dark hair that had long since turned snowy white was cut short, and on his face were whiskers that were to short to be called a beard, but were to long to suggest a lapse in shaving. His skin was wrinkled and sagging, but his eyes showed a mind as keen as it ever was.
"It doesn't seem fair," whispered a man at Minister de Silva's left, one of his dozens of protégé's, "I don't understand why you permit this topic to be the final debate every year. Everyone knows the judges are biased to one side. Always have! And that girl deserves to win after the Semi-Finals."
The minister was quiet for a moment, allowing said girl – barely eighteen, but carrying herself well enough to be mistaken for an experienced politician – finished her remarks.
"This is true Antonio. And yet, it is often when one knows they will not win that one's true character is revealed. Remember what I taught you – beyond competence, there is character. And if you cannot have both, have the one with competence place the one with character as an advisor."
The younger man – 'young' being relative given that Antonio was staring fifty in the face – nodded silently, granting his mentor that at the least.
"I admit, young mistress Amália Malhoa has made outstanding arguments. She even pre-empted her opponent's arguments. He actually stuttered on three occasions so far! If the judges weren't full of Novos Restauracionistas sympathizers, I'd almost believe she'd be the first to win the debate on whether or not Muggles could rival Magicals."
De Silva grimaced and shook his head.
"Alas, fanatics are rarely interested in truth. Otherwise they wouldn't resort to shouting, character assassination, and violence whenever someone asked 'if Magicals are so superior, then why is the Statute necessary.'"
Antonio scoffed, just barely covering his mouth enough to avoid disturbing the residents of the neighboring boxes.
"Please Minister, no one would dare question you."
The old man grimaced. That was exactly the problem.
"It would be nice if a few more people did."
"Sir?"
"Nothing. Just bemoaning that so many take Magic as a given, and how no one ever asks 'what if' without irony."
Further discussion was silenced by the applause, the debate having reached its conclusion. In a truly impartial judging, it was clear that the young lady, who 'lost' the coin toss for the topic at hand, had actually won, having made her opponent look like a fool. But just as Antonio said…
"And the winner, of this year's Annual Youth Debate, in the Royal Oratory Hall, is Dom João da Gama!"
The judges and the young victor celebrated… And looked most out of place with how… quiet the audience was. Oh certainly there was applause, some of the audience being enthusiastic in fact… But much of the rest of the audience was half-hearted at best, damning the results with silence at worst. Minister de Silva and Antonio looked aside to each other as they stood and walked out.
"Well well, I wasn't expecting that sort of response."
De Silva nodded in agreement.
"Yes, I suspect the silence was mostly existential angst. Not unexpected when someone articulates precisely how equal the equation of Muggle verses Magical is in this day and age, especially if in a way that cannot be brushed aside without fanaticism. Without that, I'm certain we'd be seeing a riot at the blatant bias. The papers shall certainly be interesting to see come morning."
"I'm more interested to see the NR's response to the criticism."
"Something inane about superiority no doubt. And I'm sure that they'll try to write Miss Amália off as an ignorant 'mudblood,' which will backfire when it's noted how she's of a pureblood family, while the young dom's grandmother was a half-blood."
"You certain?"
Minister de Silva stopped short at the curtain separating the corridor they were in from the stage, then turned to Antonio with a cocked eyebrow, his eye holding a twinkle a magical from Britain might have found familiar.
"Absolutely. You don't live as long as I have without noticing patterns. Especially if you serve in politics."
The old men shared a small laugh as they stepped through the curtain and onto the stage where the winner and runner up were both waiting, along with the judges and members of the press.
Agostinho produced a smile made from years of experience as he shook João da Gama's hand (while being unsurprised at how weak the boy's shake was), looking to all the world as if he was glad for the young wizard.
"Congratulations young man, this is a peak night for you."
"Thank you Minister! I hope to work with you soon!"
"Oh-ho I don't doubt that at all! Now, I suggest you apply yourself, it is important that the media know of you from here on out!"
"I will sir!"
And with that the young man shook the Minister's hand again (once more being weak-wristed and unprofessional) and ran up to the reporters, obnoxiously interrupting the wizarding wireless interview with the judges. And all the while de Silva and Antonio watched with smiles on their faces.
"I almost feel sorry for the poor fool," Antonio whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
"I believe the word you mean is 'tool,'" de Silva replied with equal subtlety, "and if his father intends to use him as one for his plans, I see no reason while I shouldn't use him as a monkey wrench."
De Silva's smile turned genuine when he turned to Amália Malhoa, the young woman who came in second that evening, and looking very lonely on that stage. De Silva folded his arms in the sleeves of his robe and nodded to her, which she returned with a curtsy.
"You did my Alma Mater proud tonight miss. I am only disappointed that your Headmistress could not attend."
"Thank you Minister," the young lady said, "but I don't think I did all that well. I knew I was going to lose when I saw the Carrack when the coin landed."
"But the important thing is that you didn't show it, and you put all your efforts into your arguments. In fact, your arguments, not just in this debate, but in all of the others these past two days, have been rock solid, and expertly articulated. I shall be looking forward to your career with great intertest. Now, I trust you have employment arranged, my young graduate?"
"Well, sort of," she shrugged, "I had several interviews the past few weeks, and I'm pretty sure I nailed a position in the Magical Financial Affairs office… But I don't think tonight will help."
De Silva shook his head.
"On the contrary, I have done my best to preserve a meritocratic system in my administration, going all the way back to my first election. That is especially true for the MFA office – I got my start there myself once upon a time you know. If you are qualified, you are in. So don't be so quick to give up on yourself Miss Malhoa. As my friend Albus Dumbledore would say – 'The first step in improvement, is to believe it possible.' However…"
He subtly gestured for the young witch to come closer, and as she did so he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
"If you wish to comfort yourself over tonight's defeat, I suggest you read up on the campaign of King Pyrrhus of Epirus against the Romans. And place yourself as Rome."
When the two straightened up the witch was visibly confused, when it seemed to click. She looked to João the victor… To find the wizard was making a royal ass of himself with the reporters. She turned back to find the Minister's placid smile. And then he quickly winked, a twinkle in his eye. The witch pulled in her lips and chewed on them, but other than that showed no sign of her actual thoughts.
'Ah, and she can hold in laughter as well. Promising indeed.'
Their attention was captured by the sound of a voice calling the witch's name. They turned to see a young man about her age in the aisle near the front row seats.
"Oh my. I am so, so sorry Minister! That's my boyfriend, I need to go."
"Absolutely miss Malhoa," the minister replied as he patted her paternally on the shoulder, "Far be it for an old fart like me get in the way of a pair of love birds. Now have a good time tonight."
The witch curtsied again and briskly walked down the steps and embraced the young man.
De Silva, with Antonio in tow, turned and exited the building, making for his private offices, raising his hood to ward off the rain and chill of the night. They had just entered the building when a page boy breathlessly ran up to them.
"Minister de Silva, Minister! Yo-you- you have- a visitor!"
De Silva merely raised an eyebrow and consulted his pocket watch.
"Curious. Visiting hours are long past. Did you by chance happen to get his name my boy?"
"A-Albu-!"
"Dumbledore? Albus Dumbledore?" the minister interrupted, taking pity on the teen. At his breathless nod of affirmation, de Silva nodded and handed the lad a doubloon. "Off now my lad, go home and rest."
The teen smiled and hurried to collect his things, leaving Minister de Silva and Antonio to wonder up to the office alone. And through the doors to the antechamber de Silva entertained guests in, the two wizards found the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself enjoying the view of Magical Lisbon from the windows. Dumbledore turned at the sound, and smiled at the sight of the Minister of the Royal Enchanted Ministry, a sentiment returned judging by how the (relatively) younger man strode up to the British Wizard, arms wide. The pair embraced for a moment, then parted and clasped hands.
"Albus my old friend! It is a wonderful surprise to see you!"
"And likewise, as always Agostin. I see you still haven't gotten around to crowning yourself king old man."
It was an old jab, one that started as a source of tension after de Silva won his fifth election in 1928. But with time, the results of his administration, and private conversations, wherein the (relatively) younger wizard expressed his fears of becoming a Magical Bismarck to the REM's Germany, it had become a joke. One which Agostinho brushed off with the usual wave of his hand.
"Bah! Albus, you know as well as I that Elections need an opponent to be worth a damn, and these weak-stomached poofs stopped bothering after 1980. And when I decided not to bother putting my name on the ballot in '92, folks just wrote my name in anyway! I fear I have been too successful in my job Albus."
"Oh poor child," the Brit replied with heatless sarcasm, then pulled out a handful of candies from his robe, "would you care for a lemondrop, by chance?"
De Silva raised an eyebrow, but his expression turned to a feigned mask of appreciation as he picked up a bowl of candies of his own from his desk.
"Oh Albus how thoughtful. I'd love one, but only if you take a black licorice."
The two ancient men laughed like schoolboys at their little in-joke before putting the sweets away. Antonio wisely stayed out of the byplay, letting the men who had been friends since the Tri-Wizard's Cup of the 1890s have their little ritual (though not without swiping one of the offered lemondrops of course). As his boss got settled in across the coffee table from Dumbledore, Antonio broached the subject on their minds.
"Headmaster, what could be so important that you left England, in the middle of the night, without prior warning?"
Albus eyed the younger man, and looked between him and de Silva.
"Go on Albus. For Heaven's sake, I'm not going to live forever so I might as well let my protégé's hear some of our cloak and dagger work."
Albus nodded, but didn't speak again before casting silencing charms on the door – despite both men knowing how well the Portuguese Wizard secured his own privacy.
"I heard about this back in June, but between my duties as Headmaster and various crises, I have only now had the chance to talk to you about St. Mathew Island."
Agostinho hummed in thought as he chewed on a licorice, nodding in thought.
"Mmm, crises. Such as the discovery of those Fascist moles, and that those flying Drapes of the Damned proved that they are, in fact, Damned Flying Drapes, and just as controllable."
There was a pause, and the Headmaster for a moment seemed to age with weariness before shaking himself out of it.
"Yes."
De Silva frowned at the affect the topic had on his friend, and so moved his chair that much closer and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Courage Albus. These things happen. Especially when a spineless sock puppet is given the reigns above unelected undersecretaries. The important thing is that none of the children were hurt. …Permanently. I think we can all agree that is the most important thing."
The other wizard nodded in resignation.
"Sadly, that is true."
"Now then. Speaking of Fascists like Little Whatsisname's fanatics," de Silva gave Dumbledore a moment to get the amusement out of his system, "and your curiosity about St. Mathew, they are in fact – respectively – the problem and solution for each other. I have no doubts that you are concerned about speculation concerning the Novos Restauracionistas, correct?"
Albus begrudgingly nodded. A nod de Silva returned.
"Wingardio Leviosa."
The Minister twirled his wand and levitated a folded newsprint over from his desk. The wizard then opened it to the right page and turned it around for his guests to see. It was, in fact, a copy of the Daily Prophet, the Politics section. On it was a large font, bold headline.
"Such delightful alarmism Albus. I'm thinking about framing this. It should go, quite nicely, next to my copy of the Magical Times' announcement of Grindelwald's impending victory over the Allies, during The Bulge in '44."
"Personally I find that collection of yours to be tacky Agostin. However, even though much of the Prophet has been the mouthpiece for the Ministry for decades, their International Politics section has managed to remain predominantly independent, so long as they toe the party line regarding domestic issues. So when they express concern for you and the REM, I cannot help but worry. There are so few of us left Agostin."
There was a heavy pause, each man momentarily adrift in time, remembering lost friends and loves. The moment was broken by Antonio coughing.
"Gentlemen, excuse me… But what is this about St Mathew? And what does it have to do with the NR?"
The older wizards looked at the comparative youth, then each other. After a mental conversation Dumbledore yielded the proverbial floor to his friend.
"Simple. I am giving it away to the Abyssal Princess recently allied with the muggles."
Had it not been for the bombshell having sent Antonio reeling, the wizard would have marveled at the sight of both older wizards having nearly identical twinkles in their eyes. Finally, he managed to croak out a sound that could be generously considered a 'why?'
"Yes, which is precisely why I came to ask. For one thing, it is of the utmost discretion, so I felt this conversation needed to be in person. More importantly, it is a very drastic move for you Agostin. You have always been a conservative-minded sort, and your administration has been one of stability, preservation, and caution. Simply giving away an island as important to Magical Portugal as St Mathew, with no prior warning, is frankly none of those things."
Minister de Silva wagged his head in acknowledgement.
"A fair point. Though I wonder where you came by this information Albus?"
"Simple deduction my old friend," the Headmaster returned, shrugging, "the Muggle Prime Minister sent me a message about an opening for talks with Princess Atlantia, and asked if I could take steps on behalf of the Ministry in the talks. It was a long leap of logic, but if she was wanting to talk to individuals on the Magical Side, there would be little she could possibly want or need that she could not get more expediently from the Non-Magical sort. Except for one thing – Land. And if any leaders on the magical side was going to work with the muggles to take any advantage of the situation, it would be you.
"And finally… Sadly, St Mathew's sad current state of affairs seemed like an appropriate bargaining chip for someone as cynical… And pragmatic, as you sometimes are Agostin. Though I had hoped to be wrong."
Agostinho de Silva, to his credit, managed the decency to blush.
"True, on all points Albus. But as always, I have my reasons. And Antonio, I want you to listen well. In fact, had I known I would be having this conversation this evening, I'd have asked more of my protégé's to come so they could listen too. This is likely the most important lesson I can give to future politicians: Knowing when and how to take a hit in order to take down an enemy."
Antonio took up an expression he had worn many times through the decades – one of expectation, and absolute attention. De Silva, meanwhile, sat back in his chair and took a breath, collecting his thoughts.
"After Blood Week, the REM's economy took the largest hit since the Giggling Mushroom Market collapsed two-hundred years ago. Thanks to the Abyssals, we lost direct access to the East Asian Markets, and St Mathew. Losing India and China was bad enough, but something we could recover from. But St Mathew had been the lynchpin of our colonial trade network, and without it our reliance on the Ley lines became our enemy, and we lost our markets in the Americas and direct connections to our African holdings as a result. And ever since, our economy has become stunted, stagnant, even as the rest of the Magical World recovers and adapts.
"For these past eight years, I had hoped and prayed that someone survived, that we might get a message from the Wireless and at least get our people back, and as the war turns in Man's favor, we could liberate the island… But… It has been eight years. And even though we now know that not all Abyssals are sub-human monsters… It has been eight years. I cannot go on expecting the best despite all evidence gentlemen. While the cities and port can be rebuilt someday, the people won't. And while the magical topography allows for St Mathew to become a bustling trading hub again, it will take a very long time indeed, at a cost I doubt we could recoup. Therefore, as the island is no longer an asset, and in the medium-term will be a liability, it only makes sense to find a way to cut it off, like a diseased vine.
"I have decided that, by playing a role in negotiating in peace talks with the first Abyssal to ally with Man in the Atlantic, we can at least get some use out of the island, one last time. Not only would I get rid of something we weren't using anyway, but it helps show the Muggle Government that the REM is with them one-hundred percent in this war."
"But, minister!" Antonio interjected, "so many of the people have lost family on that island! You- you are abandoning them! The people will be furious! And what about the colonies? Without St Mathew, it's only a matter of time before Africa rises up in a rebellion we can't stamp out!"
De Silva nodded in resignation as he poured himself and Albus a drink.
"No doubt. And don't take my blasé attitude for apathy. But as Minister, I cannot simply act, blindly flailing about simply to have the appearance of an effective policy. In the end, as the Head of the Royal Enchanted Ministry, I must look beyond what will keep me in power, and act on what the Ministry – and her people – actually need. Even if… Especially if, that means I must step down. The people of Magical Portugal need levelheaded rulership. That doesn't automatically mean that they need me."
Dumbledore winced at that.
"Yes. If only certain individuals in the Ministry understood that simple concept."
"Perhaps, but as I said in my first inauguration speech in 1912 Albus, should the people vote me out, I will step down."
"You see Antonio?" Albus stage-whispered to the younger wizard, "The key to despotic rule is to act as though you don't want it. It's very cat-like I must say."
Agostinho chose not to dignify his old friend's jab with a response. He merely took a sip of his port and continued as if nothing happened.
"Though much as it annoys me, I suspect that I won't lose the 2016 election. I may need to work for it for the first time in a quarter-century, sure, but the real tragedy of the REM is that the people have gotten so very used to it being me sitting in this office.
"And as for the colonies? Antonio, you know as well as I how often the Colonial Navy had to be used to help stamp out nativist and independence uprisings. Hell, that's why we stole Restaurdor back in the fifties. But even so, it is only a question of when the next uprising will come. The Abyssal War may be a Sword of Damocles to the malcontents, but once that is not an issue, they will rise up and there's not a damned thing we can do about it, son. Besides. The Muggle Empire collapsed decades ago. Our command of the magical trade gave us the funds to afford being able to keep the magical side going… But the old Empire is on life support, Antonio. And with the Statute ready to fall any day now? Politically we couldn't hold onto the colonies even if I wanted to. All things come to an end. As it was with the Kingdom, so to shall it be with the Empire.
"But I digress. Remember Antonio, this is a lesson in taking a hit in order to take down an enemy. So then, the angrier the people are…?"
Dumbledore eyed the younger wizard and his friend. He had a suspicion where this was going, but he was not one to steal the thunder from a teacher in the middle of class. And Antonio did not disappoint.
"The angrier they are… The more likely they are to lash out. Or at least, the more belligerent factions… Like the Magical Supremacists!"
De Silva saluted the relatively younger wizard with his glass before taking a sip. Then as he spoke, he produced from his robes a long sheet of parchment, rolled up.
"Precisely lad. As you know, I have had the Ministry Aurors keep close tabs on known members of the Novos Restauracionistas, and investigated their secret meetings, and keep a detailed list of names and deeds they have done in order to expand their influence, and keep a record of their goals. Now. Take a look there, and see if you can find a pattern in the names of the leadership."
"José de Camões, Marquis Sebastião de Sequeira e Sousa, Domingos Pessoa, mostly merchant patricians these and… Dom Vasco da Gama!"
"Precisely," the old man said, producing a second scroll that he handed to Dumbledore, "A great many men who have lost a great deal of money with the loss of St Mathew, and stand to lose even more with the island no longer able to be called ours, plus one of the most powerful and influential noble families in the Royal Enchanted Ministry…. That before Blood Week controlled a syndicate over many of those same patricians. One wonders just how much money was made that went unreported, and thus untaxed."
While de Silva talked, the Headmaster unrolled the other scroll and donned his tiny reading glasses.
"Hmmm… It seems that they want to make you king Agostin. Make things official."
"Ah, yes, that would be their mission once the Magical Supremacist faction took over the movement in the early nineties. Before then, it was to reinstate the muggle king. Thankfully, the fact that the ICW would have stomped on any attempt to influence the Muggles so, like an arachnophobe on a spider, meant that the most they did in the early days was make pretty speeches and take donations… That went into their pockets. Now then Albus, move on down to about, ohh… 2009."
Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow at that, but did as asked. After a few moments he found the section in question… And he blinked. Then his bushy white eyebrows rose high into his brow.
"…Oh."
"Yes. Seems Don da Gama feels that I'm a weak and ineffectual ruler Albus. Imagine that."
"Oh yes," the Headmaster quipped, rolling up the scroll, "stable policy and a century of skillfully negotiated peace and neutrality, all are the hallmarks of a weak ruler."
"Mmm, meanwhile, someone who can solidify the 'natural order' of things by reinstating a King over muggle Portugal, putting the muggles 'in their natural place' is just what the people need, especially with the Statute being rendered all the more useless each and every day. Can't see how that won't backfire enormously."
The two ancient wizards looked each other aside, their silence damning.
"So… How do you plan to profit from provoking the Novos Restauracionistas like this Minister?"
Minister de Silva and Headmaster Dumbledore turned to Antonio, both visibly disappointed.
"I suggest that you think on that my boy. Meanwhile, it is getting late, and we have cabinet meetings come morning, so I suggest getting some sleep."
Antonio looked between the Minister and the Headmaster, but nodded and stepped out, being sure to leave the scroll of names on the minister's desk on the way out. When the door clicked closed, the two wizards watched on, as though seeing a part of the future moving on.
"A promising lad Agostin," Dumbledore noted, "but he doesn't quite have your mind."
De Silva sighed in resignation.
"Yes, well… Tragically, political geniuses don't exactly grow on trees. But he is eager to learn, and once he understands a concept of sound rulership, he isn't likely to be swayed off that path. Besides, with the Statute dying? I don't have to worry about my successors being able to rule without me holding their hand, which is what befell Germany after Bismarck died. I just need to make sure they can administrate competently. And that's assuming that the Ministry even survives in the muggle government in some recognizable fashion, rather than be dismantled and its organs digested amongst analogous government agencies."
"This is true enough."
"So really, I just need to ride these next few years, and I can finally let go of power without guilt. But before that?"
With a flourish of his wand, de Silva enchanted an old gramophone. For a few seconds there was nothing… Then came the opening bars of a song that both men knew by heart when they were boys…
As someday it may happen / that a victim must be found / I've got a little list / I've got a little list…
Dumbledore sighed, but he had a smile on his lips.
"Really now Agostin. At least wait until the business is done."
The Minister just returned the smile and shrugged.
"What can I say? In One-hundred and one years of power, I have never had to do a proper purge of my government before. It's novel! I don't think that the prisons will have ever had so many inmates at once!"
"I just hope that you don't destroy your legacy just as it comes to an end. You have done far too much good for the REM and her people, just to taint your administration Agostin."
De Silva just gave a sad smile to his oldest living friend.
"Albus, we have no real control over what History says about us once we're gone. But so long as there are those of Portugal, with magic, to remember anything about me, they can think whatever they like, so long as they are alive, safe, happy, and above all… Free."
Dumbledore nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, de Silva picked up a book that was on his desk.
"Speaking of history, and our places in it, look here Albus. Someone has actually made a biography about me."
"Oh really? Are you sure it's not an autobiography in disguise? To make yourself look good to your sycophants?"
"HA! Funny. But no, some Half-blood took a shine to me. Don't ask why, I can't imagine what for. But every other day last year he was shadowing me and interviewing me for hours on end. He was rather obnoxious. At any rate, the publisher sent me a copy-editor's edition for my thoughts. Look at this cover art Albus…"
De Silva handed the hardback book to Dumbledore, and the wizard pursed his lips at the image plastered on the front.
The title was The Power of de Silva – a Century of Public Service, A Biography, and below that was a tagline reading From humble beginnings to the Crisis of 1910 through the Present, How One Man Shaped the Royal Enchanted Ministry, with the name of the author crammed onto the bottom. But the image itself was… Interesting. It was crafted from two images of his friend, split down the middle and edited together. On the left was a colorized photo of Agostinho as a young man – likely soon after being first elected in 1912 – and on the right was an image of the same man… Very recently made. The effect was to give a sense of just how long he had been Minister of the Royal Enchanted Ministry. It also made Albus feel very old indeed.
"Isn't it the most atrocious abomination you have ever seen?"
------
Incidentally, know what I learned while researching some good Portuguese names? The man that discovered the route to India? Vasco da Gama? His son, Francisco, the 2nd Count of Vidigueira, doesn't have a Death Year according to Wikipedia.
To me, that says 'magical that retreated from the muggleworld with the Statute.'
And yes. If I were to turn HatSG into a movie, I would cast Matt Smith (the 11th Doctor) as a Young de Silva, and Ian McDiarmid (Emperor Palpatine) as Present/Old de Silva.
Because I like playing with expectations sometimes.
The Old Man
Royal Oratory Hall, The Mystic Quarter, Lisbon, Magical Capitol of the Royal Enchanted Ministry, Portugal
The Royal Oratory Hall was as opulent as any structure of its title and age deserved. Finished in the late 18th century, the building was decorated in gold and exotic woods from the colonies, each seat upholstered in silk. It was intended to be the central lecture hall for the Enchanted Ministry's state school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Blanchogrotto. At the time of the hall's opening, the school was set to rival Hogwarts itself. The competition for students with Beauxbatons had already forced the leading competitor in Spain to close its doors in 1789, and with the ramifications of the Muggle Revolution reverberating in Magical France, Blanchogrotto was seen as the safer option to Beauxbatons for aristocrats to send their children, far from the chaos. Blanchogrotto had become so prestigious an institution, and had seemed fit to stand on secure footing, that the ministry entered long talks within the ICW to have the school registered as an official School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, the first to attain that distinction outside of the Mystical Trinity of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts… Then the Giggling Mushroom bubble burst 1797 and Magical Portugal's economy barely avoided total collapse. In order to balance the budget, the ministry was forced to sell off their spice plantation island, Ilha de Fera Cruz, to the ICW in 1803, and a year later Blanchogrotto was dismantled; the faculty and staff were quickly either hired on at the other Registered Schools in Europe, and then into the schools in name only cropping up in the Americas, or hired themselves out as private tutors.
The ROH was the last building of that old institution still in existence, requisitioned by the ministry as a convenient place for public announcements to be given, for musical concerts, and – such as that evening – to host the Annual Youth Debate.
"-so to use your logic, the only response to a muggle-"
"-I fear that my opponent relies on an emotive ploy rather than hard facts, such as-"
And on and on it had gone all day yesterday, and much of today. Fortunately, this was the last debate, the last two young adults standing. The collection had included over a dozen men and women, all recent or near-recent graduates of the likes of Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Hogwarts – though predominantly the former, it being the closest school. All had focused their educations on civil service. Be it the efficient workings of bureaucracy, the fundamental practices of an effective tax code, or the subtle Dark Arts of Politics and Diplomacy, the Youth Debate had for over a century and a half proven to be a showcase of talent and potential in future leaders for the Enchanted, and later on the Royal Enchanted, Ministry. In essence, it had served as an informal job interview before public officials, and the rare curious member of the public.
And for one hundred and one years, hundreds of such seventeen or eighteen-year-olds all put up their best effort at civil discourse before a single man, the man that had helped prevent the Statute from breaking when the mad muggles deposed their rightful king, and ever since had overseen the Royal Enchanted Ministry and her stability in an increasingly unstable world: Minister Agostinho de Silva.
The man sat in the Minister's Box, back straight, looking to all that craned to see him like a regal figure. His face inscrutable as he observed the debaters with the critical eye of a master who had worked the craft of display all of his one-hundred thirty-one years. His once dark hair that had long since turned snowy white was cut short, and on his face were whiskers that were to short to be called a beard, but were to long to suggest a lapse in shaving. His skin was wrinkled and sagging, but his eyes showed a mind as keen as it ever was.
"It doesn't seem fair," whispered a man at Minister de Silva's left, one of his dozens of protégé's, "I don't understand why you permit this topic to be the final debate every year. Everyone knows the judges are biased to one side. Always have! And that girl deserves to win after the Semi-Finals."
The minister was quiet for a moment, allowing said girl – barely eighteen, but carrying herself well enough to be mistaken for an experienced politician – finished her remarks.
"This is true Antonio. And yet, it is often when one knows they will not win that one's true character is revealed. Remember what I taught you – beyond competence, there is character. And if you cannot have both, have the one with competence place the one with character as an advisor."
The younger man – 'young' being relative given that Antonio was staring fifty in the face – nodded silently, granting his mentor that at the least.
"I admit, young mistress Amália Malhoa has made outstanding arguments. She even pre-empted her opponent's arguments. He actually stuttered on three occasions so far! If the judges weren't full of Novos Restauracionistas sympathizers, I'd almost believe she'd be the first to win the debate on whether or not Muggles could rival Magicals."
De Silva grimaced and shook his head.
"Alas, fanatics are rarely interested in truth. Otherwise they wouldn't resort to shouting, character assassination, and violence whenever someone asked 'if Magicals are so superior, then why is the Statute necessary.'"
Antonio scoffed, just barely covering his mouth enough to avoid disturbing the residents of the neighboring boxes.
"Please Minister, no one would dare question you."
The old man grimaced. That was exactly the problem.
"It would be nice if a few more people did."
"Sir?"
"Nothing. Just bemoaning that so many take Magic as a given, and how no one ever asks 'what if' without irony."
Further discussion was silenced by the applause, the debate having reached its conclusion. In a truly impartial judging, it was clear that the young lady, who 'lost' the coin toss for the topic at hand, had actually won, having made her opponent look like a fool. But just as Antonio said…
"And the winner, of this year's Annual Youth Debate, in the Royal Oratory Hall, is Dom João da Gama!"
The judges and the young victor celebrated… And looked most out of place with how… quiet the audience was. Oh certainly there was applause, some of the audience being enthusiastic in fact… But much of the rest of the audience was half-hearted at best, damning the results with silence at worst. Minister de Silva and Antonio looked aside to each other as they stood and walked out.
"Well well, I wasn't expecting that sort of response."
De Silva nodded in agreement.
"Yes, I suspect the silence was mostly existential angst. Not unexpected when someone articulates precisely how equal the equation of Muggle verses Magical is in this day and age, especially if in a way that cannot be brushed aside without fanaticism. Without that, I'm certain we'd be seeing a riot at the blatant bias. The papers shall certainly be interesting to see come morning."
"I'm more interested to see the NR's response to the criticism."
"Something inane about superiority no doubt. And I'm sure that they'll try to write Miss Amália off as an ignorant 'mudblood,' which will backfire when it's noted how she's of a pureblood family, while the young dom's grandmother was a half-blood."
"You certain?"
Minister de Silva stopped short at the curtain separating the corridor they were in from the stage, then turned to Antonio with a cocked eyebrow, his eye holding a twinkle a magical from Britain might have found familiar.
"Absolutely. You don't live as long as I have without noticing patterns. Especially if you serve in politics."
The old men shared a small laugh as they stepped through the curtain and onto the stage where the winner and runner up were both waiting, along with the judges and members of the press.
Agostinho produced a smile made from years of experience as he shook João da Gama's hand (while being unsurprised at how weak the boy's shake was), looking to all the world as if he was glad for the young wizard.
"Congratulations young man, this is a peak night for you."
"Thank you Minister! I hope to work with you soon!"
"Oh-ho I don't doubt that at all! Now, I suggest you apply yourself, it is important that the media know of you from here on out!"
"I will sir!"
And with that the young man shook the Minister's hand again (once more being weak-wristed and unprofessional) and ran up to the reporters, obnoxiously interrupting the wizarding wireless interview with the judges. And all the while de Silva and Antonio watched with smiles on their faces.
"I almost feel sorry for the poor fool," Antonio whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
"I believe the word you mean is 'tool,'" de Silva replied with equal subtlety, "and if his father intends to use him as one for his plans, I see no reason while I shouldn't use him as a monkey wrench."
De Silva's smile turned genuine when he turned to Amália Malhoa, the young woman who came in second that evening, and looking very lonely on that stage. De Silva folded his arms in the sleeves of his robe and nodded to her, which she returned with a curtsy.
"You did my Alma Mater proud tonight miss. I am only disappointed that your Headmistress could not attend."
"Thank you Minister," the young lady said, "but I don't think I did all that well. I knew I was going to lose when I saw the Carrack when the coin landed."
"But the important thing is that you didn't show it, and you put all your efforts into your arguments. In fact, your arguments, not just in this debate, but in all of the others these past two days, have been rock solid, and expertly articulated. I shall be looking forward to your career with great intertest. Now, I trust you have employment arranged, my young graduate?"
"Well, sort of," she shrugged, "I had several interviews the past few weeks, and I'm pretty sure I nailed a position in the Magical Financial Affairs office… But I don't think tonight will help."
De Silva shook his head.
"On the contrary, I have done my best to preserve a meritocratic system in my administration, going all the way back to my first election. That is especially true for the MFA office – I got my start there myself once upon a time you know. If you are qualified, you are in. So don't be so quick to give up on yourself Miss Malhoa. As my friend Albus Dumbledore would say – 'The first step in improvement, is to believe it possible.' However…"
He subtly gestured for the young witch to come closer, and as she did so he leaned down to whisper in her ear.
"If you wish to comfort yourself over tonight's defeat, I suggest you read up on the campaign of King Pyrrhus of Epirus against the Romans. And place yourself as Rome."
When the two straightened up the witch was visibly confused, when it seemed to click. She looked to João the victor… To find the wizard was making a royal ass of himself with the reporters. She turned back to find the Minister's placid smile. And then he quickly winked, a twinkle in his eye. The witch pulled in her lips and chewed on them, but other than that showed no sign of her actual thoughts.
'Ah, and she can hold in laughter as well. Promising indeed.'
Their attention was captured by the sound of a voice calling the witch's name. They turned to see a young man about her age in the aisle near the front row seats.
"Oh my. I am so, so sorry Minister! That's my boyfriend, I need to go."
"Absolutely miss Malhoa," the minister replied as he patted her paternally on the shoulder, "Far be it for an old fart like me get in the way of a pair of love birds. Now have a good time tonight."
The witch curtsied again and briskly walked down the steps and embraced the young man.
De Silva, with Antonio in tow, turned and exited the building, making for his private offices, raising his hood to ward off the rain and chill of the night. They had just entered the building when a page boy breathlessly ran up to them.
"Minister de Silva, Minister! Yo-you- you have- a visitor!"
De Silva merely raised an eyebrow and consulted his pocket watch.
"Curious. Visiting hours are long past. Did you by chance happen to get his name my boy?"
"A-Albu-!"
"Dumbledore? Albus Dumbledore?" the minister interrupted, taking pity on the teen. At his breathless nod of affirmation, de Silva nodded and handed the lad a doubloon. "Off now my lad, go home and rest."
The teen smiled and hurried to collect his things, leaving Minister de Silva and Antonio to wonder up to the office alone. And through the doors to the antechamber de Silva entertained guests in, the two wizards found the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself enjoying the view of Magical Lisbon from the windows. Dumbledore turned at the sound, and smiled at the sight of the Minister of the Royal Enchanted Ministry, a sentiment returned judging by how the (relatively) younger man strode up to the British Wizard, arms wide. The pair embraced for a moment, then parted and clasped hands.
"Albus my old friend! It is a wonderful surprise to see you!"
"And likewise, as always Agostin. I see you still haven't gotten around to crowning yourself king old man."
It was an old jab, one that started as a source of tension after de Silva won his fifth election in 1928. But with time, the results of his administration, and private conversations, wherein the (relatively) younger wizard expressed his fears of becoming a Magical Bismarck to the REM's Germany, it had become a joke. One which Agostinho brushed off with the usual wave of his hand.
"Bah! Albus, you know as well as I that Elections need an opponent to be worth a damn, and these weak-stomached poofs stopped bothering after 1980. And when I decided not to bother putting my name on the ballot in '92, folks just wrote my name in anyway! I fear I have been too successful in my job Albus."
"Oh poor child," the Brit replied with heatless sarcasm, then pulled out a handful of candies from his robe, "would you care for a lemondrop, by chance?"
De Silva raised an eyebrow, but his expression turned to a feigned mask of appreciation as he picked up a bowl of candies of his own from his desk.
"Oh Albus how thoughtful. I'd love one, but only if you take a black licorice."
The two ancient men laughed like schoolboys at their little in-joke before putting the sweets away. Antonio wisely stayed out of the byplay, letting the men who had been friends since the Tri-Wizard's Cup of the 1890s have their little ritual (though not without swiping one of the offered lemondrops of course). As his boss got settled in across the coffee table from Dumbledore, Antonio broached the subject on their minds.
"Headmaster, what could be so important that you left England, in the middle of the night, without prior warning?"
Albus eyed the younger man, and looked between him and de Silva.
"Go on Albus. For Heaven's sake, I'm not going to live forever so I might as well let my protégé's hear some of our cloak and dagger work."
Albus nodded, but didn't speak again before casting silencing charms on the door – despite both men knowing how well the Portuguese Wizard secured his own privacy.
"I heard about this back in June, but between my duties as Headmaster and various crises, I have only now had the chance to talk to you about St. Mathew Island."
Agostinho hummed in thought as he chewed on a licorice, nodding in thought.
"Mmm, crises. Such as the discovery of those Fascist moles, and that those flying Drapes of the Damned proved that they are, in fact, Damned Flying Drapes, and just as controllable."
There was a pause, and the Headmaster for a moment seemed to age with weariness before shaking himself out of it.
"Yes."
De Silva frowned at the affect the topic had on his friend, and so moved his chair that much closer and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Courage Albus. These things happen. Especially when a spineless sock puppet is given the reigns above unelected undersecretaries. The important thing is that none of the children were hurt. …Permanently. I think we can all agree that is the most important thing."
The other wizard nodded in resignation.
"Sadly, that is true."
"Now then. Speaking of Fascists like Little Whatsisname's fanatics," de Silva gave Dumbledore a moment to get the amusement out of his system, "and your curiosity about St. Mathew, they are in fact – respectively – the problem and solution for each other. I have no doubts that you are concerned about speculation concerning the Novos Restauracionistas, correct?"
Albus begrudgingly nodded. A nod de Silva returned.
"Wingardio Leviosa."
The Minister twirled his wand and levitated a folded newsprint over from his desk. The wizard then opened it to the right page and turned it around for his guests to see. It was, in fact, a copy of the Daily Prophet, the Politics section. On it was a large font, bold headline.
MAGICAL SUPREMACY INSURGENCY – ON THE RISE IN BRITAIN AND ABROAD
FIRST THE DEATH EATERS, ARE THE NEW RESTORATIONISTS NEXT?
FIRST THE DEATH EATERS, ARE THE NEW RESTORATIONISTS NEXT?
"Such delightful alarmism Albus. I'm thinking about framing this. It should go, quite nicely, next to my copy of the Magical Times' announcement of Grindelwald's impending victory over the Allies, during The Bulge in '44."
"Personally I find that collection of yours to be tacky Agostin. However, even though much of the Prophet has been the mouthpiece for the Ministry for decades, their International Politics section has managed to remain predominantly independent, so long as they toe the party line regarding domestic issues. So when they express concern for you and the REM, I cannot help but worry. There are so few of us left Agostin."
There was a heavy pause, each man momentarily adrift in time, remembering lost friends and loves. The moment was broken by Antonio coughing.
"Gentlemen, excuse me… But what is this about St Mathew? And what does it have to do with the NR?"
The older wizards looked at the comparative youth, then each other. After a mental conversation Dumbledore yielded the proverbial floor to his friend.
"Simple. I am giving it away to the Abyssal Princess recently allied with the muggles."
Had it not been for the bombshell having sent Antonio reeling, the wizard would have marveled at the sight of both older wizards having nearly identical twinkles in their eyes. Finally, he managed to croak out a sound that could be generously considered a 'why?'
"Yes, which is precisely why I came to ask. For one thing, it is of the utmost discretion, so I felt this conversation needed to be in person. More importantly, it is a very drastic move for you Agostin. You have always been a conservative-minded sort, and your administration has been one of stability, preservation, and caution. Simply giving away an island as important to Magical Portugal as St Mathew, with no prior warning, is frankly none of those things."
Minister de Silva wagged his head in acknowledgement.
"A fair point. Though I wonder where you came by this information Albus?"
"Simple deduction my old friend," the Headmaster returned, shrugging, "the Muggle Prime Minister sent me a message about an opening for talks with Princess Atlantia, and asked if I could take steps on behalf of the Ministry in the talks. It was a long leap of logic, but if she was wanting to talk to individuals on the Magical Side, there would be little she could possibly want or need that she could not get more expediently from the Non-Magical sort. Except for one thing – Land. And if any leaders on the magical side was going to work with the muggles to take any advantage of the situation, it would be you.
"And finally… Sadly, St Mathew's sad current state of affairs seemed like an appropriate bargaining chip for someone as cynical… And pragmatic, as you sometimes are Agostin. Though I had hoped to be wrong."
Agostinho de Silva, to his credit, managed the decency to blush.
"True, on all points Albus. But as always, I have my reasons. And Antonio, I want you to listen well. In fact, had I known I would be having this conversation this evening, I'd have asked more of my protégé's to come so they could listen too. This is likely the most important lesson I can give to future politicians: Knowing when and how to take a hit in order to take down an enemy."
Antonio took up an expression he had worn many times through the decades – one of expectation, and absolute attention. De Silva, meanwhile, sat back in his chair and took a breath, collecting his thoughts.
"After Blood Week, the REM's economy took the largest hit since the Giggling Mushroom Market collapsed two-hundred years ago. Thanks to the Abyssals, we lost direct access to the East Asian Markets, and St Mathew. Losing India and China was bad enough, but something we could recover from. But St Mathew had been the lynchpin of our colonial trade network, and without it our reliance on the Ley lines became our enemy, and we lost our markets in the Americas and direct connections to our African holdings as a result. And ever since, our economy has become stunted, stagnant, even as the rest of the Magical World recovers and adapts.
"For these past eight years, I had hoped and prayed that someone survived, that we might get a message from the Wireless and at least get our people back, and as the war turns in Man's favor, we could liberate the island… But… It has been eight years. And even though we now know that not all Abyssals are sub-human monsters… It has been eight years. I cannot go on expecting the best despite all evidence gentlemen. While the cities and port can be rebuilt someday, the people won't. And while the magical topography allows for St Mathew to become a bustling trading hub again, it will take a very long time indeed, at a cost I doubt we could recoup. Therefore, as the island is no longer an asset, and in the medium-term will be a liability, it only makes sense to find a way to cut it off, like a diseased vine.
"I have decided that, by playing a role in negotiating in peace talks with the first Abyssal to ally with Man in the Atlantic, we can at least get some use out of the island, one last time. Not only would I get rid of something we weren't using anyway, but it helps show the Muggle Government that the REM is with them one-hundred percent in this war."
"But, minister!" Antonio interjected, "so many of the people have lost family on that island! You- you are abandoning them! The people will be furious! And what about the colonies? Without St Mathew, it's only a matter of time before Africa rises up in a rebellion we can't stamp out!"
De Silva nodded in resignation as he poured himself and Albus a drink.
"No doubt. And don't take my blasé attitude for apathy. But as Minister, I cannot simply act, blindly flailing about simply to have the appearance of an effective policy. In the end, as the Head of the Royal Enchanted Ministry, I must look beyond what will keep me in power, and act on what the Ministry – and her people – actually need. Even if… Especially if, that means I must step down. The people of Magical Portugal need levelheaded rulership. That doesn't automatically mean that they need me."
Dumbledore winced at that.
"Yes. If only certain individuals in the Ministry understood that simple concept."
"Perhaps, but as I said in my first inauguration speech in 1912 Albus, should the people vote me out, I will step down."
"You see Antonio?" Albus stage-whispered to the younger wizard, "The key to despotic rule is to act as though you don't want it. It's very cat-like I must say."
Agostinho chose not to dignify his old friend's jab with a response. He merely took a sip of his port and continued as if nothing happened.
"Though much as it annoys me, I suspect that I won't lose the 2016 election. I may need to work for it for the first time in a quarter-century, sure, but the real tragedy of the REM is that the people have gotten so very used to it being me sitting in this office.
"And as for the colonies? Antonio, you know as well as I how often the Colonial Navy had to be used to help stamp out nativist and independence uprisings. Hell, that's why we stole Restaurdor back in the fifties. But even so, it is only a question of when the next uprising will come. The Abyssal War may be a Sword of Damocles to the malcontents, but once that is not an issue, they will rise up and there's not a damned thing we can do about it, son. Besides. The Muggle Empire collapsed decades ago. Our command of the magical trade gave us the funds to afford being able to keep the magical side going… But the old Empire is on life support, Antonio. And with the Statute ready to fall any day now? Politically we couldn't hold onto the colonies even if I wanted to. All things come to an end. As it was with the Kingdom, so to shall it be with the Empire.
"But I digress. Remember Antonio, this is a lesson in taking a hit in order to take down an enemy. So then, the angrier the people are…?"
Dumbledore eyed the younger wizard and his friend. He had a suspicion where this was going, but he was not one to steal the thunder from a teacher in the middle of class. And Antonio did not disappoint.
"The angrier they are… The more likely they are to lash out. Or at least, the more belligerent factions… Like the Magical Supremacists!"
De Silva saluted the relatively younger wizard with his glass before taking a sip. Then as he spoke, he produced from his robes a long sheet of parchment, rolled up.
"Precisely lad. As you know, I have had the Ministry Aurors keep close tabs on known members of the Novos Restauracionistas, and investigated their secret meetings, and keep a detailed list of names and deeds they have done in order to expand their influence, and keep a record of their goals. Now. Take a look there, and see if you can find a pattern in the names of the leadership."
"José de Camões, Marquis Sebastião de Sequeira e Sousa, Domingos Pessoa, mostly merchant patricians these and… Dom Vasco da Gama!"
"Precisely," the old man said, producing a second scroll that he handed to Dumbledore, "A great many men who have lost a great deal of money with the loss of St Mathew, and stand to lose even more with the island no longer able to be called ours, plus one of the most powerful and influential noble families in the Royal Enchanted Ministry…. That before Blood Week controlled a syndicate over many of those same patricians. One wonders just how much money was made that went unreported, and thus untaxed."
While de Silva talked, the Headmaster unrolled the other scroll and donned his tiny reading glasses.
"Hmmm… It seems that they want to make you king Agostin. Make things official."
"Ah, yes, that would be their mission once the Magical Supremacist faction took over the movement in the early nineties. Before then, it was to reinstate the muggle king. Thankfully, the fact that the ICW would have stomped on any attempt to influence the Muggles so, like an arachnophobe on a spider, meant that the most they did in the early days was make pretty speeches and take donations… That went into their pockets. Now then Albus, move on down to about, ohh… 2009."
Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow at that, but did as asked. After a few moments he found the section in question… And he blinked. Then his bushy white eyebrows rose high into his brow.
"…Oh."
"Yes. Seems Don da Gama feels that I'm a weak and ineffectual ruler Albus. Imagine that."
"Oh yes," the Headmaster quipped, rolling up the scroll, "stable policy and a century of skillfully negotiated peace and neutrality, all are the hallmarks of a weak ruler."
"Mmm, meanwhile, someone who can solidify the 'natural order' of things by reinstating a King over muggle Portugal, putting the muggles 'in their natural place' is just what the people need, especially with the Statute being rendered all the more useless each and every day. Can't see how that won't backfire enormously."
The two ancient wizards looked each other aside, their silence damning.
"So… How do you plan to profit from provoking the Novos Restauracionistas like this Minister?"
Minister de Silva and Headmaster Dumbledore turned to Antonio, both visibly disappointed.
"I suggest that you think on that my boy. Meanwhile, it is getting late, and we have cabinet meetings come morning, so I suggest getting some sleep."
Antonio looked between the Minister and the Headmaster, but nodded and stepped out, being sure to leave the scroll of names on the minister's desk on the way out. When the door clicked closed, the two wizards watched on, as though seeing a part of the future moving on.
"A promising lad Agostin," Dumbledore noted, "but he doesn't quite have your mind."
De Silva sighed in resignation.
"Yes, well… Tragically, political geniuses don't exactly grow on trees. But he is eager to learn, and once he understands a concept of sound rulership, he isn't likely to be swayed off that path. Besides, with the Statute dying? I don't have to worry about my successors being able to rule without me holding their hand, which is what befell Germany after Bismarck died. I just need to make sure they can administrate competently. And that's assuming that the Ministry even survives in the muggle government in some recognizable fashion, rather than be dismantled and its organs digested amongst analogous government agencies."
"This is true enough."
"So really, I just need to ride these next few years, and I can finally let go of power without guilt. But before that?"
With a flourish of his wand, de Silva enchanted an old gramophone. For a few seconds there was nothing… Then came the opening bars of a song that both men knew by heart when they were boys…
As someday it may happen / that a victim must be found / I've got a little list / I've got a little list…
Dumbledore sighed, but he had a smile on his lips.
"Really now Agostin. At least wait until the business is done."
The Minister just returned the smile and shrugged.
"What can I say? In One-hundred and one years of power, I have never had to do a proper purge of my government before. It's novel! I don't think that the prisons will have ever had so many inmates at once!"
"I just hope that you don't destroy your legacy just as it comes to an end. You have done far too much good for the REM and her people, just to taint your administration Agostin."
De Silva just gave a sad smile to his oldest living friend.
"Albus, we have no real control over what History says about us once we're gone. But so long as there are those of Portugal, with magic, to remember anything about me, they can think whatever they like, so long as they are alive, safe, happy, and above all… Free."
Dumbledore nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, de Silva picked up a book that was on his desk.
"Speaking of history, and our places in it, look here Albus. Someone has actually made a biography about me."
"Oh really? Are you sure it's not an autobiography in disguise? To make yourself look good to your sycophants?"
"HA! Funny. But no, some Half-blood took a shine to me. Don't ask why, I can't imagine what for. But every other day last year he was shadowing me and interviewing me for hours on end. He was rather obnoxious. At any rate, the publisher sent me a copy-editor's edition for my thoughts. Look at this cover art Albus…"
De Silva handed the hardback book to Dumbledore, and the wizard pursed his lips at the image plastered on the front.
The title was The Power of de Silva – a Century of Public Service, A Biography, and below that was a tagline reading From humble beginnings to the Crisis of 1910 through the Present, How One Man Shaped the Royal Enchanted Ministry, with the name of the author crammed onto the bottom. But the image itself was… Interesting. It was crafted from two images of his friend, split down the middle and edited together. On the left was a colorized photo of Agostinho as a young man – likely soon after being first elected in 1912 – and on the right was an image of the same man… Very recently made. The effect was to give a sense of just how long he had been Minister of the Royal Enchanted Ministry. It also made Albus feel very old indeed.
"Isn't it the most atrocious abomination you have ever seen?"
------
Incidentally, know what I learned while researching some good Portuguese names? The man that discovered the route to India? Vasco da Gama? His son, Francisco, the 2nd Count of Vidigueira, doesn't have a Death Year according to Wikipedia.
To me, that says 'magical that retreated from the muggleworld with the Statute.'
And yes. If I were to turn HatSG into a movie, I would cast Matt Smith (the 11th Doctor) as a Young de Silva, and Ian McDiarmid (Emperor Palpatine) as Present/Old de Silva.
Because I like playing with expectations sometimes.
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Snippet 2: Harry Leferts
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
For the first time in weeks, the sleet and light snow of the Scottish Highlands had stopped falling around Hogwarts. Something that the inhabitants of the castle did not quite know about for the most part. Just a few hours earlier though, one of the biggest events of the year had happened.
The capture of Sirius Black.
However, under the bare branches of the Forbidden Forest, none of this mattered. Nor did it matter that the horizon still had not any sign of dawn. This late in the year, so close to the longest night of the year, daylight lasted barely seven hours total in the Scottish Highlands. And the sunrise itself would not happen until close to nine in the morning. The night was so very dark and cold at this hour.
Not that a fox currently bounding through the Forbidden Forest as fast as it could noticed with how much it's muscles were burning as it ran. Under root and over snowdrifts as the Half-Moon above shone down through the gaps in the clouds. Leaping through some bushes, the fox twisted and landed, snow flying from where the being's paws hit. Slowly, the fox looked in one direction and then another. On it's head, ears twisted to and fro as it backed up some.
Rustling from bushes caused it to whip around and crouch with a growl. But all that met it was the wind and nothing else. Still frightened, the fox gained a small frown on its face.
Moments later, it froze as something dropped from the trees and landed behind it with barely a sound.
Almost a minute passed before it heard a chuckle, "My, my, don't tell me that you are frightened of me." Slowly, the fox turned and backed away from the other, much more massive fox in front of it. The smaller fox was much the normal size for a fox. But the other... the other was the size of a large horse with nine tails behind it. The Kitsune, for that was what it was, seemed amused by the smaller fox, "Come now, there is nothing to fear. I simply wish to speak with you... Siusan, I believe that you told Natsumi-Chan that you were called, yes?"
Swallowing, the fox nodded some and spoke in a female voice, "Yes, that is my name." Eyes narrowing, she snarled at the larger fox, "What are you?"
Completely unconcerned with the snarls, the larger of the two simply moved her tails, "In my homeland, I am what is known as a 'Kitsune', a fox spirit of sorts. As to myself, I am a Kyuubi, a kitsune that has survived for over a thousand years and gained one tail a century. My name is Hoshi, it means 'Star' in my native tongue."
Just blinking, Siusan frowned, "That... is what Natsumi-Child stated she was, but..." Eyebrows furrowing, she looked over the Kitsune before the wind shifted a bit and her eyes widened as she caught something that was not a scent as one would understand it, "You are-"
Trailing off, the Irish fox spirit realized that the other had stilled, "Yes, but that is not something to speak of." After getting a nod, Hoshi tilted her head some, "How about we become more... comfortable?"
Not even a few seconds later, where once was a fox now stood a woman with nine fox tails behind her and fox ears on her head. She was dressed in what was, to Siusan, odd clothing. Of course, Siusan then transformed herself into her own human-like form, which came across as tomboyish wearing a tunic and skirt, with a red cloak, "There."
Lips twitching in barely hid amusement, Hoshi shook her head and gazed evenly at the other fox in more than a little interest, "I will admit that when Natsumi-Chan explained that she had met a fox spirit, one that was not a Kitsune, I was surprise. Even more so that said fox claimed to be Harry-San's grandmother of sorts. Very surprised as I was not aware that there were beings like us outside of East Asia. Of course... that was when I did my research." Eyes narrowing, she frowned, "You must excuse me for my rudeness, but in Irish legends such beings as yourself were... not always spoken well of. And were often associated with the Fae."
Wincing, Siusan frowned right back, "I have heard the same, though I have never met any of the others." That seemed to surprise the Kitsune, who quickly schooled her features, "Why?'
All the Kitsune did was lean forward slightly, "Do not get me wrong, I wish to satisfy my own worry. That you were being truthful to Natsumi-Chan. For all her intelligence and wisdom, which is growing each day, I was worried about her being fooled by someone far more experienced. And I only wish to make sure that both her, as well as Harry-San are safe."
Briefly, the hackles rose on Siusan's neck as she snarled, "I would never harm Harry-Child, Lily-Child's child." Then she blinked and her eyes widened, "Wait... you wish to make sure that I am not a threat to him?"
Slowly, Hoshi nodded, "Yes, that is correct. If you are who you say you are, then I am sure that you understand my caution in regards to this."
Her shoulders slumping, the Irish fox's head hung even as she gave the barest of nods, "I do, though I wish that I was believed." A ghost of a smile crossed her face as pain filled her eyes, "Though I am glad that Harry-Child does have those who care so much about him. How do I prove that I am who I say I am?"
Much to her confusion, Hoshi smiled some before reaching into a small pouch. From it, she pulled a silver necklace that had a bell on it, which made Siusan gasp. Catching the look on the other fox's face, she raised an eyebrow, "I take it that you recognize it?"
Tears in her eyes, Siusan nodded, "Yes, that is the necklace that I made for Lily-Child and gave to her father..." Her eyes turned downwards, "I only realized later that he never gave it to her and I did not know what became of it."
With a sigh, the Kitsune shook her head, "He put it away, unwilling to give it to his daughter. But after he passed, it was among those items that he had gifted to Harry... While I do have questions regarding what was written, this is neither the time nor the place to do so though I am certain that he hates himself in the Afterlife for what happened and what could have happened if he had given it. That said... you made it from your own magic and blood, yes?" Getting a confused nod, Hoshi placed her hand over the bell, "Then it shall tell us if you are who you claim to be..."
Softly, Hoshi whispered to the necklace as orbs of fire appeared on each tail. For her part, Siusan was unable to look away from what was happening, for it was too important. She had to prove that she was who she said she was, so that she could speak with Harry-Child... her grandson, though far removed. As far as she was concerned, she had failed him far too much as it was. It said something how distracted she was with her thoughts that she did not notice that the necklace had begun to softly glow.
Upon realizing that fact, Siusan perked up and was about to ask when she noticed that she, too, was glowing. Examining her hand, she blinked, "What is this?"
Chuckling, and a slight smile on her face, Hoshi tilted her head, "What this is would be the proof of who you are. Magic does not lie, especially that within the blood. This... you forged from your blood, for your blood. You poured love into it's creation and it shows." The glow faded away and Hoshi placed the necklace back into her bag and turned to Siusan, "Well, that answers my questions for the most part. So you wish to speak with Harry-San, then?"
Her eyes though narrowed as Siusan looked away and held herself. There was something... vulnerable, about how the other fox was postured. And there was also fear, though of what she had a good suspicion as to why, "I... I would like to, though I am unsure that he may..."
Expression softening, Hoshi got to her feet and walked over. Placing a gentle hand on Siusan's shoulder, she smiled at the other fox spirit, "Siusan-San, look at me for a moment." When the other woman did, Hoshi looked her in the eye, "I have no doubt that Harry-San would like to speak to you."
Voice so very soft and vulnerable, the Irish fox swallowed, "How can you be sure? So many... so many of my grandchildren, they... And I was not there for him. I was not there for Lily-Child's Child when he needed me. When Lily-Child needed me, I... For when she needed me... Why..." Falling to her knees, Siusan sniffed a bit, "Why would he wish to acknowledge me...?"
Crouching down herself, Hoshi gently hugged her, "Because, we are speaking of Harry-San. I do not know what sins you may believe that you have done, but I believe that they were not done but in your mind. Harry-San will only care that you are, to him, family in the end. And family that actually cares about him, from what I can see. From what I know of Harry-San, and my own interactions, that is all he needs to care for you. His heart is far too big, but it is also one of his greatest strengths as well as weakness. But the strength it has is, by far, greater then it is a weakness."
Unable to help herself, Siusan leaned into Hoshi's embrace, feeling the tails wrap around her, warmth surrounding her, "I am afraid that he would not accept me. He... he is the last of my grandchildren, of Brigid's children, who could.... And his eyes are hers, to see them... to see them hate me would...
Inside her head, some pieces fell into place. Yes, there was quite a bit in Lily's journals as well as her own research into the matter. But so much more now was apparent. The fox in front of her was hurting, and in a way that she had seen in far too many Kitsune when those of their blood had rejected them for not being human. The fear and self-hatred from those of their blood, of their childrens' blood, casting them out as family. The ancient Kitsune felt her heart go out to the other fox at that.
All Hoshi did was gently rub her back and make comforting noises, even as she felt tears soaking her clothes as Siusan shook, "Harry-San cannot hate you, for you are family. True family, though he has not known you. He will listen to why he did not know you before, but I do not see him hating you, for as you said... you are his grandmother, and he is of your blood. For him, this would be a gift."
All Siusan did was nod and hold on a touch tighter.
The capture of Sirius Black.
However, under the bare branches of the Forbidden Forest, none of this mattered. Nor did it matter that the horizon still had not any sign of dawn. This late in the year, so close to the longest night of the year, daylight lasted barely seven hours total in the Scottish Highlands. And the sunrise itself would not happen until close to nine in the morning. The night was so very dark and cold at this hour.
Not that a fox currently bounding through the Forbidden Forest as fast as it could noticed with how much it's muscles were burning as it ran. Under root and over snowdrifts as the Half-Moon above shone down through the gaps in the clouds. Leaping through some bushes, the fox twisted and landed, snow flying from where the being's paws hit. Slowly, the fox looked in one direction and then another. On it's head, ears twisted to and fro as it backed up some.
Rustling from bushes caused it to whip around and crouch with a growl. But all that met it was the wind and nothing else. Still frightened, the fox gained a small frown on its face.
Moments later, it froze as something dropped from the trees and landed behind it with barely a sound.
Almost a minute passed before it heard a chuckle, "My, my, don't tell me that you are frightened of me." Slowly, the fox turned and backed away from the other, much more massive fox in front of it. The smaller fox was much the normal size for a fox. But the other... the other was the size of a large horse with nine tails behind it. The Kitsune, for that was what it was, seemed amused by the smaller fox, "Come now, there is nothing to fear. I simply wish to speak with you... Siusan, I believe that you told Natsumi-Chan that you were called, yes?"
Swallowing, the fox nodded some and spoke in a female voice, "Yes, that is my name." Eyes narrowing, she snarled at the larger fox, "What are you?"
Completely unconcerned with the snarls, the larger of the two simply moved her tails, "In my homeland, I am what is known as a 'Kitsune', a fox spirit of sorts. As to myself, I am a Kyuubi, a kitsune that has survived for over a thousand years and gained one tail a century. My name is Hoshi, it means 'Star' in my native tongue."
Just blinking, Siusan frowned, "That... is what Natsumi-Child stated she was, but..." Eyebrows furrowing, she looked over the Kitsune before the wind shifted a bit and her eyes widened as she caught something that was not a scent as one would understand it, "You are-"
Trailing off, the Irish fox spirit realized that the other had stilled, "Yes, but that is not something to speak of." After getting a nod, Hoshi tilted her head some, "How about we become more... comfortable?"
Not even a few seconds later, where once was a fox now stood a woman with nine fox tails behind her and fox ears on her head. She was dressed in what was, to Siusan, odd clothing. Of course, Siusan then transformed herself into her own human-like form, which came across as tomboyish wearing a tunic and skirt, with a red cloak, "There."
Lips twitching in barely hid amusement, Hoshi shook her head and gazed evenly at the other fox in more than a little interest, "I will admit that when Natsumi-Chan explained that she had met a fox spirit, one that was not a Kitsune, I was surprise. Even more so that said fox claimed to be Harry-San's grandmother of sorts. Very surprised as I was not aware that there were beings like us outside of East Asia. Of course... that was when I did my research." Eyes narrowing, she frowned, "You must excuse me for my rudeness, but in Irish legends such beings as yourself were... not always spoken well of. And were often associated with the Fae."
Wincing, Siusan frowned right back, "I have heard the same, though I have never met any of the others." That seemed to surprise the Kitsune, who quickly schooled her features, "Why?'
All the Kitsune did was lean forward slightly, "Do not get me wrong, I wish to satisfy my own worry. That you were being truthful to Natsumi-Chan. For all her intelligence and wisdom, which is growing each day, I was worried about her being fooled by someone far more experienced. And I only wish to make sure that both her, as well as Harry-San are safe."
Briefly, the hackles rose on Siusan's neck as she snarled, "I would never harm Harry-Child, Lily-Child's child." Then she blinked and her eyes widened, "Wait... you wish to make sure that I am not a threat to him?"
Slowly, Hoshi nodded, "Yes, that is correct. If you are who you say you are, then I am sure that you understand my caution in regards to this."
Her shoulders slumping, the Irish fox's head hung even as she gave the barest of nods, "I do, though I wish that I was believed." A ghost of a smile crossed her face as pain filled her eyes, "Though I am glad that Harry-Child does have those who care so much about him. How do I prove that I am who I say I am?"
Much to her confusion, Hoshi smiled some before reaching into a small pouch. From it, she pulled a silver necklace that had a bell on it, which made Siusan gasp. Catching the look on the other fox's face, she raised an eyebrow, "I take it that you recognize it?"
Tears in her eyes, Siusan nodded, "Yes, that is the necklace that I made for Lily-Child and gave to her father..." Her eyes turned downwards, "I only realized later that he never gave it to her and I did not know what became of it."
With a sigh, the Kitsune shook her head, "He put it away, unwilling to give it to his daughter. But after he passed, it was among those items that he had gifted to Harry... While I do have questions regarding what was written, this is neither the time nor the place to do so though I am certain that he hates himself in the Afterlife for what happened and what could have happened if he had given it. That said... you made it from your own magic and blood, yes?" Getting a confused nod, Hoshi placed her hand over the bell, "Then it shall tell us if you are who you claim to be..."
Softly, Hoshi whispered to the necklace as orbs of fire appeared on each tail. For her part, Siusan was unable to look away from what was happening, for it was too important. She had to prove that she was who she said she was, so that she could speak with Harry-Child... her grandson, though far removed. As far as she was concerned, she had failed him far too much as it was. It said something how distracted she was with her thoughts that she did not notice that the necklace had begun to softly glow.
Upon realizing that fact, Siusan perked up and was about to ask when she noticed that she, too, was glowing. Examining her hand, she blinked, "What is this?"
Chuckling, and a slight smile on her face, Hoshi tilted her head, "What this is would be the proof of who you are. Magic does not lie, especially that within the blood. This... you forged from your blood, for your blood. You poured love into it's creation and it shows." The glow faded away and Hoshi placed the necklace back into her bag and turned to Siusan, "Well, that answers my questions for the most part. So you wish to speak with Harry-San, then?"
Her eyes though narrowed as Siusan looked away and held herself. There was something... vulnerable, about how the other fox was postured. And there was also fear, though of what she had a good suspicion as to why, "I... I would like to, though I am unsure that he may..."
Expression softening, Hoshi got to her feet and walked over. Placing a gentle hand on Siusan's shoulder, she smiled at the other fox spirit, "Siusan-San, look at me for a moment." When the other woman did, Hoshi looked her in the eye, "I have no doubt that Harry-San would like to speak to you."
Voice so very soft and vulnerable, the Irish fox swallowed, "How can you be sure? So many... so many of my grandchildren, they... And I was not there for him. I was not there for Lily-Child's Child when he needed me. When Lily-Child needed me, I... For when she needed me... Why..." Falling to her knees, Siusan sniffed a bit, "Why would he wish to acknowledge me...?"
Crouching down herself, Hoshi gently hugged her, "Because, we are speaking of Harry-San. I do not know what sins you may believe that you have done, but I believe that they were not done but in your mind. Harry-San will only care that you are, to him, family in the end. And family that actually cares about him, from what I can see. From what I know of Harry-San, and my own interactions, that is all he needs to care for you. His heart is far too big, but it is also one of his greatest strengths as well as weakness. But the strength it has is, by far, greater then it is a weakness."
Unable to help herself, Siusan leaned into Hoshi's embrace, feeling the tails wrap around her, warmth surrounding her, "I am afraid that he would not accept me. He... he is the last of my grandchildren, of Brigid's children, who could.... And his eyes are hers, to see them... to see them hate me would...
Inside her head, some pieces fell into place. Yes, there was quite a bit in Lily's journals as well as her own research into the matter. But so much more now was apparent. The fox in front of her was hurting, and in a way that she had seen in far too many Kitsune when those of their blood had rejected them for not being human. The fear and self-hatred from those of their blood, of their childrens' blood, casting them out as family. The ancient Kitsune felt her heart go out to the other fox at that.
All Hoshi did was gently rub her back and make comforting noises, even as she felt tears soaking her clothes as Siusan shook, "Harry-San cannot hate you, for you are family. True family, though he has not known you. He will listen to why he did not know you before, but I do not see him hating you, for as you said... you are his grandmother, and he is of your blood. For him, this would be a gift."
All Siusan did was nod and hold on a touch tighter.
Snippet 2: K9Thefirst1
And here we see Porta contacting allies for assistance correcting an oversight of hers, on the eve of war. Once more, I am indebted to the person who sent me this link on how medieval letters were composed.
December 10th, 2013 – Great Meteor Seamount, Palace of Porta Atlantia
In her private apartments, the Last Elder Princess of the Atlantic Abyss leaned back in her chair and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. It was late, and she much wanted to go to sleep. Trouble was, she needed to make a decision, and soon. She had put it off long enough as it was.
She really only had herself to blame really. She had spent so much time and effort developing her fleet combat units, that she had neglected to expand her non-combat fleet accordingly. Now she had over a thousand warships… And not a tug or repair ship in sight.
Sure, her Mobile Anchorages could do most of the repairs of a dedicated port… But that wouldn't do one of her fleet any good if she couldn't make it there under her own steam, or worse, if she needed one or more of her sisters to get there under tow. One unit out of action was bad enough, but a whole division? Unacceptable.
"I am… An idiot…" she muttered to herself, "I'm supposed to be smarter than this…"
And yet, there she was, a grand fleet, with her self-imposed date for the declaration of war against the Barbarians of her Sisters weeks away… Without tugs and repair ships to tend to them. Naturally she went straight to work with her engineers to rectify this oversight right away. It was really her least favorite part of developing new classes – the actual designing process. All too often, either to many perfect or near-perfect options were put before her to choose from, or none of them were acceptable, or they were little more than variations on a theme.
The issue at hand, for a prospective repair ship, was a mix of the three issues. All of them had their good points, but none of them really stood out as perfect, and their flaws were quite glaring. She had thought she had hit a promising avenue when she permitted the expansion of the ship's tonnage, but now she was regretting that decision. Shifting the Tonnage limitation merely resulted in having a repair ship that was very nearly the size of a small capital ship, with all the logistical problems that came with it. Sure, the greater size meant that the machinists and engineers would have much greater stability while at work – no mean factor for the notoriously aggressive Atlantic – but was it worth the frustration of feeding and defending a nearly thirty kiloton behemoth that wasn't even going to be fighting?
She flipped the sheets over, taking yet another look at the words on the page, as though it would somehow change the situation somehow.
Porta groaned, then slumped in her chair.
"My kingdom for a second opinion…"
"Nazg. Nazg nazg-nazg."
"Mmm?"
Porta looked to the edge of the table, finding an Imp bearing a manila envelope the size of a large tarp relative to his height.
"Reivana with another report I trust? …Very well, I could use a distraction."
The Princess took the envelope and read the report inside. There was the typical minutia – the Wok-Class transports were performing admirably, transporting reparations goods to the UK and the Iberian nations, and with each voyage were bringing important intelligence regarding the Abyssal Fleets whose territory they passed through. And in turn there were the manifests of raw goods – bauxite, iron, and similar resources she was scarce in – ready for their voyage to the Princess, and intelligence reports – largely gossip, but still vital information – about the various allied powers. And one particular nugget made Porta sit up and take note.
…and from our American allies, there are reports of an Allied Fleet near Alaska that had developed a non-combat type of vessel. The fleet in question calls themselves the Fleet of Laughter, and they are the successor fleet under the Northern Ocean Princess that captured the Aleutian Islands during Blood Week. The Northern Ocean Princess – or 'Hoppo' as she seems to prefer to be called – has survived, but seems to be a distant advisory figure to the FOL, whose de facto leader is the Northern Water Princess named Tanith. More detailed information came in previous accounts, but at your request I would be happy to send along revised copies in triplicate.
As to the class they have built, by all accounts it is an ocean-going tug boat named the KO-Class. Unfortunately, I have told you of everything freely available to non-vital military personnel. Anything else beyond this and a profile ID are classified to mission planers and other Need To Know.
The report went on into other topics. All things the Princess needed to know no doubt, but the information of another Abyssal fleet, and Allied Abyssal fleet, having already developed one of the units she was in need of, superseded everything else. This was perfect! If they could develop a design of their own to completion, then other designs would be a simple matter!
Immediately, Porta collected sheets of paper and a pen, then proceeded to scribble out draft after draft of a letter to this Fleet of Laughter, checking her files of Reivana's previous reports to insure that she did not blunder into an insult out of ignorance with each go. Hours later, she had her final draft, worded exactly the right way to avoid offense, and to encourage the recipients to consider aiding her in her plight.
Satisfied, Porta transcribed the letter to a sheet of parchment, folded it, and with more than a little giddiness, used her new seal for the purpose it was meant for. She heated a measure of wax and poured it into a circle over the knot of silk cord to hold it shut, and pressed her ring into it, revealing a tiny example of her Royal Coat of Arms when she pulled it away.
"DEMON!"
"Yes, Princess." the Demon answered as she entered the quarters. Port marched up to her Second and handed her the envelope.
"Demon, go down to the armory, and collect a quad, double, and single barrel each of the 40mm AA mounts. You are then to go down to the archives and collect the drafts for those same mounts. After that, collect seven barrels of oil, a brick of gold, and then take them all with this letter to the docks. I want you to commandeer a Wok that is empty, or nearly so, and give her the items. I will send coordinates in a few hours."
The Demon stood there for a moment, and Porta could almost imagine an eyebrow rising beneath that helm. But, she was obeyed, and Liner Demon collected the letter and left to carry out the orders.
Porta took a breath to steady herself. The next step was to make a lot of calls to the various allies between the seamount and the realm of the Fleet of Laughter. The Wok-class was a very fuel-efficient class of ship, but she wouldn't have the bunkerage to make the trip on one load. And even if she could, the need for haste meant that the courier needed to take the Panama Canal. She needed to arrange the route with all of the relevant authorities along the way.
It was almost exciting in a way. This would be the first time any of her fleet would be relying on Human infrastructure… And no doubt the humans would be interested in seeing her cargo transport.
A great many side-benefits continued to come to mind as she carried out her tasks. Yes. Even if nothing came of this outreach, the Princess knew that she would benefit.
Of course, she really wanted those tug designs, and some perspective of a repair ship…
Avrora, Fleet of Laughter Territory, December 22nd, 2013
Tanith raised an eyebrow at the… strange cargo transport. Save for the lack of a humanoid torso, she bore some similarities to Marble, but the ascended battleship had never seen any ship with so many AA mounts, let alone a lowly cargo transport. Then there was the torpedo launcher embedded in her chin. Still, the attention to the defenses wasn't a bad idea, especially with all of the hostile Abyssal fleets still at large. She'd need to talk to mother about adopting the idea. Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet looked on as the stranger deposited a collection of items on the beach. Three models of AA mounts, barrels of oil (always appreciated), a block of gold (again, not unwanted, gold bought a lot of things they were in need of), and a box.
With the last item lowered onto the beach, an imp hopped down from the freighter's deck, carrying a folded piece of paper above his head like a tiny sheet of plywood, making a beeline straight for her. Taking pity on the little creature, Tanith walked up to the Imp and picked up the folded bit of paper. …No, not paper, parchment. She turned it over to find it sealed with a bit of wax, with the shape of a pseudo-insectoid/crustacean thing inside of a circle with writing on it, in a language Tanith wasn't sure she recognized.
"Is this for me then?"
"Nazg," the little Imp said, saluting before bending to one knee, "nazg nazg Nazg."
'Yes, for the Ruler of the Fleet of Laughter. I humbly await for your reply to my mistress.'
Tanith cocked an eyebrow at the formal tone, but shrugged, broke the seal, and unfolded the letter. After coming all this way, it would be rude not to at least see what the fuss was about.
This… Required some thought…
A Letter Between Sovereigns
December 10th, 2013 – Great Meteor Seamount, Palace of Porta Atlantia
In her private apartments, the Last Elder Princess of the Atlantic Abyss leaned back in her chair and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. It was late, and she much wanted to go to sleep. Trouble was, she needed to make a decision, and soon. She had put it off long enough as it was.
She really only had herself to blame really. She had spent so much time and effort developing her fleet combat units, that she had neglected to expand her non-combat fleet accordingly. Now she had over a thousand warships… And not a tug or repair ship in sight.
Sure, her Mobile Anchorages could do most of the repairs of a dedicated port… But that wouldn't do one of her fleet any good if she couldn't make it there under her own steam, or worse, if she needed one or more of her sisters to get there under tow. One unit out of action was bad enough, but a whole division? Unacceptable.
"I am… An idiot…" she muttered to herself, "I'm supposed to be smarter than this…"
And yet, there she was, a grand fleet, with her self-imposed date for the declaration of war against the Barbarians of her Sisters weeks away… Without tugs and repair ships to tend to them. Naturally she went straight to work with her engineers to rectify this oversight right away. It was really her least favorite part of developing new classes – the actual designing process. All too often, either to many perfect or near-perfect options were put before her to choose from, or none of them were acceptable, or they were little more than variations on a theme.
The issue at hand, for a prospective repair ship, was a mix of the three issues. All of them had their good points, but none of them really stood out as perfect, and their flaws were quite glaring. She had thought she had hit a promising avenue when she permitted the expansion of the ship's tonnage, but now she was regretting that decision. Shifting the Tonnage limitation merely resulted in having a repair ship that was very nearly the size of a small capital ship, with all the logistical problems that came with it. Sure, the greater size meant that the machinists and engineers would have much greater stability while at work – no mean factor for the notoriously aggressive Atlantic – but was it worth the frustration of feeding and defending a nearly thirty kiloton behemoth that wasn't even going to be fighting?
She flipped the sheets over, taking yet another look at the words on the page, as though it would somehow change the situation somehow.
Requirements (initial guidelines, after first round of proposals requirements shall be adapted):
Tonnage: between 3,000-6,000 tons
Speed: 10 to 18 knots.
Range: 10,000 nautical miles.
Armament: what can be expected to defend herself from air and light sea opponents, using the 5'' gun and 40mm AA armament currently utilized.
Crew Capacity: At least 300 – 10 Officers, 50 seamen, 40 stokers and machinery spaces staff, 150 engineers, mechanics and repair crew, 50 misc crew.
Capability: repair minor to minor-moderate damage to all shiptypes from submarines to Re-Class battlecarriers, including engine repairs, hull shell plating repairs, sensor suite repairs or replacements, and other miscellaneous repairs that can be done either at sea or underway.
DESIGN I
Length: 320
Beam: 55 ft
Draft: 21 ft
Speed: 12kts
Tonnage: 3300 tons
Armor: 10mm cemented armor around machinery spaces
Armaments: 1 double-barreled dual purpose 5'' mount, aft, 2 quardruple 40 mm Anti-air mounts, one on top of bridge, one on fantail.
Propulsion: six oil-fired boilers, feeding one quadruple expansion reciprocating engine.
Facilities: one machine shop and tools, one hanger bay for plane/parts stowage, two holds for spare parts. Four auxiliary turbo-electric generators. Two auxiliary water pumps.
DESIGN II
Length: 477ft
Beam: 80 ft
Draft: 29ft
Speed: 14kts
Tonnage 11,200 tons
Armor: None
Armament: two double-barreled dual purpose 5'' mounts. 4 double 40mm Anti-Air mounts
Propulsion: eight oil-fired boilers feeding two triple expansion engines.
Facilities: two machine shops and tools, one hangar bay for plane/parts storage, three holds for spare parts. Eight auxiliary turbo-electric generators. Four auxiliary water pumps. One steam-powered winch crane amidships.
DESIGN III
Length: 675 ft
Beam: 75 ft
Draft: 36 ft
Speed: 15kts
Tonnage: 19,000 tons
Armor: 25mm cemented plate along machinery spaces
Armament: three double-barreled 5'' dual purpose mounts – one fore and aft, one amidships. 5 40mm quadruple Anti-Air mounts, two fore, two aft, one amidships.
Propulsion: 12 double-ended oil-fed boilers feeding two triple-expansion engines.
Facilities: three machine shops and tools, two hangar bays for plane/parts stowage, five holds for spare parts. Ten auxiliary turbo-electric generators, eight auxiliary water pumps. Two steam-powered winch cranes amidships. Alternatively, three holds for parts, one hold for raw materials, and a small forge to forging small hull patch plates as required.
DESIGN III-A
Length: 725ft
Beam: 89ft
Draft: 37ft
Speed: 16kts
Tonnage: 25,000
Armor: 33mm cemented plate over machinery spaces at and below waterline in turtleback layout.
Armament: Eight double-barreled 5'' mounts, two fore, two aft, four amidships. Six 40mm double Anti-Air mounts, one fore, three aft, one on top of bridge, one on aft superstructure, four amidships.
Facilities: four machine shops and tools, two hangar bays for plane/parts stowage, five holds for spare parts and resources, a small forge to make small hull patch plates or full one replacement plates as required. Ten auxiliary turbo-electric generators, eight auxiliary water pumps. Two steam-powered winch cranes amidships.
Propulsion: Twelve double-ended oil-fed boilers feeding two-expansion reciprocating engines.
DESIGN III-B
Length: 726ft
Beam: 95ft (plus additional four feet either side for torpedo bulge – 103ft)
Draft: 34ft
Speed: 17kts
Tonnage: 26,900 tons
Armor: 33mm cemented plate over machinery spaces at and below waterline in turtleback layout.
Armament: Eight double-barreled 5'' mounts, two fore, two aft, four amidships. Five 40mm double Anti-Air mounts, one fore, three aft, one on top of bridge, one on aft superstructure.
Facilities: four machine shops and tools, two hangar bays for plane/parts stowage, five holds for spare parts and resources, a small forge to make small hull patch plates or full replacement plates as required. Ten auxiliary turbo-electric generators, eight auxiliary water pumps. Two steam-powered winch cranes amidships.
Propulsion: 12 Double ended, 4 single ended, oil-fed boilers feeding four quadruple expansion reciprocating engines.
DESIGN III-C
Length: 729ft
Beam: 96ft (plus additional four feet either side for torpedo bulge – 104ft)
Draft: 36ft
Speed: 19kts
Tonnage: 29,000 tons
Armor: 36mm cemented plate over machinery spaces at and below waterline in turtleback layout.
Armament: Eight double-barreled 5'' mounts, two fore, two aft, four amidships. Ten 40mm double Anti-Air mounts, one fore, three aft, one on top of bridge, one on aft superstructure, four amidships.
Facilities: four machine shops and tools, two hangar bays for plane/parts stowage, five holds for spare parts and resources, a small forge to make small hull patch plates or full replacement plates as required. Ten auxiliary turbo-electric generators, eight auxiliary water pumps. Two steam-powered winch cranes amidships.
Propulsion: 12 Double ended, 4 single ended, oil-fed boilers feeding two high pressure and two low pressure geared turbines.
DESIGN III-D
Length: 730ft
Beam: 99ft (plus additional four feet either side for torpedo bulge – 107ft)
Draft: 37ft
Speed: 18kts
Tonnage: 29,400 tons
Armor: 30mm cemented plate over machinery spaces at and below waterline in turtleback layout. Plus 4ft spaces on either side for torpedo bulges.
Armament: Eight double-barreled 5'' mounts, two fore, two aft, four amidships. Six 40mm double Anti-Air mounts, one fore, three aft, one on top of bridge, one on aft superstructure.
Facilities: four machine shops and tools, two hangar bays for plane/parts stowage, five holds for spare parts and resources, a small forge to small hull patch plates or full replacement plates as required. twelve auxiliary turbo-electric generators, nine auxiliary water pumps. Two steam-powered winch cranes amidships.
Propulsion: 16 Double ended oil-fed boilers feeding two quadruple-expansion reciprocating engines and one low pressure geared turbine
Tonnage: between 3,000-6,000 tons
Speed: 10 to 18 knots.
Range: 10,000 nautical miles.
Armament: what can be expected to defend herself from air and light sea opponents, using the 5'' gun and 40mm AA armament currently utilized.
Crew Capacity: At least 300 – 10 Officers, 50 seamen, 40 stokers and machinery spaces staff, 150 engineers, mechanics and repair crew, 50 misc crew.
Capability: repair minor to minor-moderate damage to all shiptypes from submarines to Re-Class battlecarriers, including engine repairs, hull shell plating repairs, sensor suite repairs or replacements, and other miscellaneous repairs that can be done either at sea or underway.
DESIGN I
Length: 320
Beam: 55 ft
Draft: 21 ft
Speed: 12kts
Tonnage: 3300 tons
Armor: 10mm cemented armor around machinery spaces
Armaments: 1 double-barreled dual purpose 5'' mount, aft, 2 quardruple 40 mm Anti-air mounts, one on top of bridge, one on fantail.
Propulsion: six oil-fired boilers, feeding one quadruple expansion reciprocating engine.
Facilities: one machine shop and tools, one hanger bay for plane/parts stowage, two holds for spare parts. Four auxiliary turbo-electric generators. Two auxiliary water pumps.
DESIGN II
Length: 477ft
Beam: 80 ft
Draft: 29ft
Speed: 14kts
Tonnage 11,200 tons
Armor: None
Armament: two double-barreled dual purpose 5'' mounts. 4 double 40mm Anti-Air mounts
Propulsion: eight oil-fired boilers feeding two triple expansion engines.
Facilities: two machine shops and tools, one hangar bay for plane/parts storage, three holds for spare parts. Eight auxiliary turbo-electric generators. Four auxiliary water pumps. One steam-powered winch crane amidships.
DESIGN III
Length: 675 ft
Beam: 75 ft
Draft: 36 ft
Speed: 15kts
Tonnage: 19,000 tons
Armor: 25mm cemented plate along machinery spaces
Armament: three double-barreled 5'' dual purpose mounts – one fore and aft, one amidships. 5 40mm quadruple Anti-Air mounts, two fore, two aft, one amidships.
Propulsion: 12 double-ended oil-fed boilers feeding two triple-expansion engines.
Facilities: three machine shops and tools, two hangar bays for plane/parts stowage, five holds for spare parts. Ten auxiliary turbo-electric generators, eight auxiliary water pumps. Two steam-powered winch cranes amidships. Alternatively, three holds for parts, one hold for raw materials, and a small forge to forging small hull patch plates as required.
We find Design III to be of particular merit. Though it exceeds the tonnage limit, in retrospect said limit was too strenuous for a truly effective vessel. As a larger ship will be more stable while at sea, even in harsh storms, meaning that the mechanics, engineers and machinists will have an easier time while working on materials. Therefore, the tonnage limit is shifted to 30,000 tons, though the Board of Design is reminded that this limit is not meant to be a goal to be achieved, but rather, is a buffer to ensure an efficient design without fretting over going over.
-HRH, Porta Abysseum Atlantia
-HRH, Porta Abysseum Atlantia
DESIGN III-A
Length: 725ft
Beam: 89ft
Draft: 37ft
Speed: 16kts
Tonnage: 25,000
Armor: 33mm cemented plate over machinery spaces at and below waterline in turtleback layout.
Armament: Eight double-barreled 5'' mounts, two fore, two aft, four amidships. Six 40mm double Anti-Air mounts, one fore, three aft, one on top of bridge, one on aft superstructure, four amidships.
Facilities: four machine shops and tools, two hangar bays for plane/parts stowage, five holds for spare parts and resources, a small forge to make small hull patch plates or full one replacement plates as required. Ten auxiliary turbo-electric generators, eight auxiliary water pumps. Two steam-powered winch cranes amidships.
Propulsion: Twelve double-ended oil-fed boilers feeding two-expansion reciprocating engines.
DESIGN III-B
Length: 726ft
Beam: 95ft (plus additional four feet either side for torpedo bulge – 103ft)
Draft: 34ft
Speed: 17kts
Tonnage: 26,900 tons
Armor: 33mm cemented plate over machinery spaces at and below waterline in turtleback layout.
Armament: Eight double-barreled 5'' mounts, two fore, two aft, four amidships. Five 40mm double Anti-Air mounts, one fore, three aft, one on top of bridge, one on aft superstructure.
Facilities: four machine shops and tools, two hangar bays for plane/parts stowage, five holds for spare parts and resources, a small forge to make small hull patch plates or full replacement plates as required. Ten auxiliary turbo-electric generators, eight auxiliary water pumps. Two steam-powered winch cranes amidships.
Propulsion: 12 Double ended, 4 single ended, oil-fed boilers feeding four quadruple expansion reciprocating engines.
DESIGN III-C
Length: 729ft
Beam: 96ft (plus additional four feet either side for torpedo bulge – 104ft)
Draft: 36ft
Speed: 19kts
Tonnage: 29,000 tons
Armor: 36mm cemented plate over machinery spaces at and below waterline in turtleback layout.
Armament: Eight double-barreled 5'' mounts, two fore, two aft, four amidships. Ten 40mm double Anti-Air mounts, one fore, three aft, one on top of bridge, one on aft superstructure, four amidships.
Facilities: four machine shops and tools, two hangar bays for plane/parts stowage, five holds for spare parts and resources, a small forge to make small hull patch plates or full replacement plates as required. Ten auxiliary turbo-electric generators, eight auxiliary water pumps. Two steam-powered winch cranes amidships.
Propulsion: 12 Double ended, 4 single ended, oil-fed boilers feeding two high pressure and two low pressure geared turbines.
DESIGN III-D
Length: 730ft
Beam: 99ft (plus additional four feet either side for torpedo bulge – 107ft)
Draft: 37ft
Speed: 18kts
Tonnage: 29,400 tons
Armor: 30mm cemented plate over machinery spaces at and below waterline in turtleback layout. Plus 4ft spaces on either side for torpedo bulges.
Armament: Eight double-barreled 5'' mounts, two fore, two aft, four amidships. Six 40mm double Anti-Air mounts, one fore, three aft, one on top of bridge, one on aft superstructure.
Facilities: four machine shops and tools, two hangar bays for plane/parts stowage, five holds for spare parts and resources, a small forge to small hull patch plates or full replacement plates as required. twelve auxiliary turbo-electric generators, nine auxiliary water pumps. Two steam-powered winch cranes amidships.
Propulsion: 16 Double ended oil-fed boilers feeding two quadruple-expansion reciprocating engines and one low pressure geared turbine
Porta groaned, then slumped in her chair.
"My kingdom for a second opinion…"
"Nazg. Nazg nazg-nazg."
"Mmm?"
Porta looked to the edge of the table, finding an Imp bearing a manila envelope the size of a large tarp relative to his height.
"Reivana with another report I trust? …Very well, I could use a distraction."
The Princess took the envelope and read the report inside. There was the typical minutia – the Wok-Class transports were performing admirably, transporting reparations goods to the UK and the Iberian nations, and with each voyage were bringing important intelligence regarding the Abyssal Fleets whose territory they passed through. And in turn there were the manifests of raw goods – bauxite, iron, and similar resources she was scarce in – ready for their voyage to the Princess, and intelligence reports – largely gossip, but still vital information – about the various allied powers. And one particular nugget made Porta sit up and take note.
…and from our American allies, there are reports of an Allied Fleet near Alaska that had developed a non-combat type of vessel. The fleet in question calls themselves the Fleet of Laughter, and they are the successor fleet under the Northern Ocean Princess that captured the Aleutian Islands during Blood Week. The Northern Ocean Princess – or 'Hoppo' as she seems to prefer to be called – has survived, but seems to be a distant advisory figure to the FOL, whose de facto leader is the Northern Water Princess named Tanith. More detailed information came in previous accounts, but at your request I would be happy to send along revised copies in triplicate.
As to the class they have built, by all accounts it is an ocean-going tug boat named the KO-Class. Unfortunately, I have told you of everything freely available to non-vital military personnel. Anything else beyond this and a profile ID are classified to mission planers and other Need To Know.
The report went on into other topics. All things the Princess needed to know no doubt, but the information of another Abyssal fleet, and Allied Abyssal fleet, having already developed one of the units she was in need of, superseded everything else. This was perfect! If they could develop a design of their own to completion, then other designs would be a simple matter!
Immediately, Porta collected sheets of paper and a pen, then proceeded to scribble out draft after draft of a letter to this Fleet of Laughter, checking her files of Reivana's previous reports to insure that she did not blunder into an insult out of ignorance with each go. Hours later, she had her final draft, worded exactly the right way to avoid offense, and to encourage the recipients to consider aiding her in her plight.
Satisfied, Porta transcribed the letter to a sheet of parchment, folded it, and with more than a little giddiness, used her new seal for the purpose it was meant for. She heated a measure of wax and poured it into a circle over the knot of silk cord to hold it shut, and pressed her ring into it, revealing a tiny example of her Royal Coat of Arms when she pulled it away.
"DEMON!"
"Yes, Princess." the Demon answered as she entered the quarters. Port marched up to her Second and handed her the envelope.
"Demon, go down to the armory, and collect a quad, double, and single barrel each of the 40mm AA mounts. You are then to go down to the archives and collect the drafts for those same mounts. After that, collect seven barrels of oil, a brick of gold, and then take them all with this letter to the docks. I want you to commandeer a Wok that is empty, or nearly so, and give her the items. I will send coordinates in a few hours."
The Demon stood there for a moment, and Porta could almost imagine an eyebrow rising beneath that helm. But, she was obeyed, and Liner Demon collected the letter and left to carry out the orders.
Porta took a breath to steady herself. The next step was to make a lot of calls to the various allies between the seamount and the realm of the Fleet of Laughter. The Wok-class was a very fuel-efficient class of ship, but she wouldn't have the bunkerage to make the trip on one load. And even if she could, the need for haste meant that the courier needed to take the Panama Canal. She needed to arrange the route with all of the relevant authorities along the way.
It was almost exciting in a way. This would be the first time any of her fleet would be relying on Human infrastructure… And no doubt the humans would be interested in seeing her cargo transport.
A great many side-benefits continued to come to mind as she carried out her tasks. Yes. Even if nothing came of this outreach, the Princess knew that she would benefit.
Of course, she really wanted those tug designs, and some perspective of a repair ship…
------
Avrora, Fleet of Laughter Territory, December 22nd, 2013
Tanith raised an eyebrow at the… strange cargo transport. Save for the lack of a humanoid torso, she bore some similarities to Marble, but the ascended battleship had never seen any ship with so many AA mounts, let alone a lowly cargo transport. Then there was the torpedo launcher embedded in her chin. Still, the attention to the defenses wasn't a bad idea, especially with all of the hostile Abyssal fleets still at large. She'd need to talk to mother about adopting the idea. Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet looked on as the stranger deposited a collection of items on the beach. Three models of AA mounts, barrels of oil (always appreciated), a block of gold (again, not unwanted, gold bought a lot of things they were in need of), and a box.
With the last item lowered onto the beach, an imp hopped down from the freighter's deck, carrying a folded piece of paper above his head like a tiny sheet of plywood, making a beeline straight for her. Taking pity on the little creature, Tanith walked up to the Imp and picked up the folded bit of paper. …No, not paper, parchment. She turned it over to find it sealed with a bit of wax, with the shape of a pseudo-insectoid/crustacean thing inside of a circle with writing on it, in a language Tanith wasn't sure she recognized.
"Is this for me then?"
"Nazg," the little Imp said, saluting before bending to one knee, "nazg nazg Nazg."
'Yes, for the Ruler of the Fleet of Laughter. I humbly await for your reply to my mistress.'
Tanith cocked an eyebrow at the formal tone, but shrugged, broke the seal, and unfolded the letter. After coming all this way, it would be rude not to at least see what the fuss was about.
Salutations, and Best Wishes, O Worthies of the Placid Seas, whose realm is one of peace, serenity, and fellowship with all creatures both Land and Sea, and whose beauty is likened to Virgin Snows and Mighty Glaciers and Stoic Icebergs – The Fair Princess of Northern Waters, and her Mother, the Innocent Princess of Northern Oceans. Regal Sovereigns, over a Fleet that desires naught but Merriment and Love, and yet who willingly bore the brunt of subhuman savages and bloodlusting barbarians, all to spare the lives of the meek and the helpless that were in their charge, showing to all and sundry their superiority to their foes in Strength of Spirit and Honor, exemplars of the Noble Obligation inherent to those that the Divine chooses to Rule.
This letter arrives unto you and yours from the Serene Realm of the Princess of the Ancient Atlantic Gate, Princess Porta Abysseum Atlantia, of Antillia and the Grand Meteor Seamount, a realm of warm, fertile seas, and a fair island of rolling hills, pastoral herds of sheep and cattle, and in the very middle of the Atlantic.
We trust that this letter arrives in a time of continued serenity for your realm, and that your family and subjects are all in favored health and wealth, despite the vulgar realities of this pointless and destructive war between our race and the Humans. If you or yours are ever in need of assistance, simply call, and We shall respond and come unto your side, if your request for succor is one that is within Our capacity to provide.
Alas, We cannot say that this letter comes at a desire of pure pleasure. Rather, it comes at a time of great concern for Our realm and Our subjects in these troubled times of War and Hate. And it is with a heavy head that We find Ourselves seeking aid that only your noble worthies could hope to provide.
Upon the ninth day, of the seventh month, of this fair year, We signed into a pact with the Humans. A treaty of peace, of trade, and of reparations. In accordance with the terms of this treaty, We are obligated to throw in the War Efforts on the side of Man. For offensives, We are much prepared. A decade of repose from the outside world, of ignoring the war, has permitted Us to take the time to expand Our fleet, until We now command numbers such that we can take on the Abyss, and still hold numbers enough to ensure that Our fleet shall be able to transition into a peacetime nature without fear of becoming a backwater.
And yet, in Our eagerness to ensure offensive numbers, We are most humiliated to admit that, in maintenance matters, we are falling short. Mobile anchorages we have, permitting the wounded to have a place of respit without having to brave the treacherous road to Antillia. And We have placed considerable effort in designing and providing merchant craft to transport goods, the beginnings of Our Merchant Marine. And yet We are lacking in the craft that can help Our warriors come home if they cannot move under their own strength, ocean tug boats and repair vessels, forcing their comrades to shoulder them. This is an unnatural oversight on Our part, and one that We prostrate Ourselves before you for assistance.
We have heard from Our allies of your own success in fashioning a class of mighty tugs, the Ko-Class. We request from you the designs, spec sheets, and blueprints of this class, that We may begin construction immediately, before Our war begins in earnest.
In exchange, the servant this letter arrives by offers a bar of gold, forged by collecting the suspended particles of the metal in the sea, and seven barrels of oil, conjured by Our process of synthesizing oil from plant matter. Alongside these come three examples and the corresponding blueprints of the Anti-Air batteries natively developed. Nowhere in all of the Abyss will you find a more rapid, more accurate, and more effective model such as these – Our 40mm quad, dual, and single-barrel mounts, which are currently being provided to all vessels in the fleet, from capital ships on down to destroyers. We trust that these can help protect your family and your subjects in the event of armed conflict.
Furthermore, We send along copies of Our notes for Our own class of Repair Ships. Alas, We fear that they are incomplete as yet, more studies than concrete concepts. However, we pray that they may find some use for you in the event that you and yours are also in the process of developing your own repair ships.
And so, We sadly must finish this matter, and return once more unto the affairs of state, as We make preparations for the vulgar and disgusting matters of War, that Ares may once more be satiated with the blood of Saint and Sinner shed. We once more send Our best prayers, well wishes, and earnest hopes for you and yours, that your realm may continue to prosper and grow, and that under your Noble and Just rule, Avrora continues to be a beacon in the Pacific of what our race can be in this age of Darkness and War, if we but choose to do so, just as We shall be providing that same Noble example in the Atlantic.
And once more, if ever your realm must call for any aid, We implore you and yours too but ask. If it be within Our capacity to provide, it shall be given with both hands, in love and fellowship.
This letter, by Our own hand, departs from Our realm on the tenth day, of the twelfth month, in the Year of Our Lord 2013.
We await your reply with eagerness and grand esteem, Porta Abysseum Atlantia, Princess of Abyssinia.
This letter arrives unto you and yours from the Serene Realm of the Princess of the Ancient Atlantic Gate, Princess Porta Abysseum Atlantia, of Antillia and the Grand Meteor Seamount, a realm of warm, fertile seas, and a fair island of rolling hills, pastoral herds of sheep and cattle, and in the very middle of the Atlantic.
We trust that this letter arrives in a time of continued serenity for your realm, and that your family and subjects are all in favored health and wealth, despite the vulgar realities of this pointless and destructive war between our race and the Humans. If you or yours are ever in need of assistance, simply call, and We shall respond and come unto your side, if your request for succor is one that is within Our capacity to provide.
Alas, We cannot say that this letter comes at a desire of pure pleasure. Rather, it comes at a time of great concern for Our realm and Our subjects in these troubled times of War and Hate. And it is with a heavy head that We find Ourselves seeking aid that only your noble worthies could hope to provide.
Upon the ninth day, of the seventh month, of this fair year, We signed into a pact with the Humans. A treaty of peace, of trade, and of reparations. In accordance with the terms of this treaty, We are obligated to throw in the War Efforts on the side of Man. For offensives, We are much prepared. A decade of repose from the outside world, of ignoring the war, has permitted Us to take the time to expand Our fleet, until We now command numbers such that we can take on the Abyss, and still hold numbers enough to ensure that Our fleet shall be able to transition into a peacetime nature without fear of becoming a backwater.
And yet, in Our eagerness to ensure offensive numbers, We are most humiliated to admit that, in maintenance matters, we are falling short. Mobile anchorages we have, permitting the wounded to have a place of respit without having to brave the treacherous road to Antillia. And We have placed considerable effort in designing and providing merchant craft to transport goods, the beginnings of Our Merchant Marine. And yet We are lacking in the craft that can help Our warriors come home if they cannot move under their own strength, ocean tug boats and repair vessels, forcing their comrades to shoulder them. This is an unnatural oversight on Our part, and one that We prostrate Ourselves before you for assistance.
We have heard from Our allies of your own success in fashioning a class of mighty tugs, the Ko-Class. We request from you the designs, spec sheets, and blueprints of this class, that We may begin construction immediately, before Our war begins in earnest.
In exchange, the servant this letter arrives by offers a bar of gold, forged by collecting the suspended particles of the metal in the sea, and seven barrels of oil, conjured by Our process of synthesizing oil from plant matter. Alongside these come three examples and the corresponding blueprints of the Anti-Air batteries natively developed. Nowhere in all of the Abyss will you find a more rapid, more accurate, and more effective model such as these – Our 40mm quad, dual, and single-barrel mounts, which are currently being provided to all vessels in the fleet, from capital ships on down to destroyers. We trust that these can help protect your family and your subjects in the event of armed conflict.
Furthermore, We send along copies of Our notes for Our own class of Repair Ships. Alas, We fear that they are incomplete as yet, more studies than concrete concepts. However, we pray that they may find some use for you in the event that you and yours are also in the process of developing your own repair ships.
And so, We sadly must finish this matter, and return once more unto the affairs of state, as We make preparations for the vulgar and disgusting matters of War, that Ares may once more be satiated with the blood of Saint and Sinner shed. We once more send Our best prayers, well wishes, and earnest hopes for you and yours, that your realm may continue to prosper and grow, and that under your Noble and Just rule, Avrora continues to be a beacon in the Pacific of what our race can be in this age of Darkness and War, if we but choose to do so, just as We shall be providing that same Noble example in the Atlantic.
And once more, if ever your realm must call for any aid, We implore you and yours too but ask. If it be within Our capacity to provide, it shall be given with both hands, in love and fellowship.
This letter, by Our own hand, departs from Our realm on the tenth day, of the twelfth month, in the Year of Our Lord 2013.
We await your reply with eagerness and grand esteem, Porta Abysseum Atlantia, Princess of Abyssinia.
Mercaturam et Lex
Imperii et Imperatrix
Imperii et Imperatrix
This… Required some thought…
Last edited:
Snippet 1: Kiyone4ever
- Location
- Vancouver, Washington
River Rats
Family Matters Part 2
The moderately tall American adjusted her Greatcoat. It had been a long flight and the sun of her departure from Hartsfield had been traded for the gloom of Edinburgh. No one would have mistaken her for her much more famous successor. She simply didn't have the... guns... for that, but she was recognized just the same."
"Miss Iowa?" The woman in a Royal Navy coat addressed her politely in greeting.
"Yes?"
"HMS Jupiter, at your service," The slightly taller Majestic class battleship extended a hand."
"A pleasure to meet you, Jupiter. Always a pleasure to meet a fellow Pre-Dread. "
"Likewise, although why you're here is a bit of a mystery."
"A family matter, you see. We were going to resolve this in Japan a few weeks back but an Abyssal raiding force popped up in the Gulf of Mexico. Had a fun run in with a light cruiser that got past the intercept group. Long story short, I'm here, she isn't. Unfortunately, I still ate a torpedo. So I've had a two star mother henning me from top to bottom while a four star has been trying to calm another two star who has been very insistent upon tending this matter as soon as possible."
"And what matter would that be?" Jupiter asked curious.
"Harry James Potter, son of Lily Potter nee Evans. Admiral Evans and his son, Captain Evans wish to meet the last scion of their family and see to his safety. The Admiral also has heard that young Mister Potter is in the process of assembling his own fleet. 'Fighting Bob' Evans is eager to see how young Master Potter is handling the family talent." At that, Iowa produced from her hand two fairies, one who looked up at Jupiter and nodded an approving look and the other simply standing quiet behind his father.
"I see. I see indeed."
Family Matters Part 2
The moderately tall American adjusted her Greatcoat. It had been a long flight and the sun of her departure from Hartsfield had been traded for the gloom of Edinburgh. No one would have mistaken her for her much more famous successor. She simply didn't have the... guns... for that, but she was recognized just the same."
"Miss Iowa?" The woman in a Royal Navy coat addressed her politely in greeting.
"Yes?"
"HMS Jupiter, at your service," The slightly taller Majestic class battleship extended a hand."
"A pleasure to meet you, Jupiter. Always a pleasure to meet a fellow Pre-Dread. "
"Likewise, although why you're here is a bit of a mystery."
"A family matter, you see. We were going to resolve this in Japan a few weeks back but an Abyssal raiding force popped up in the Gulf of Mexico. Had a fun run in with a light cruiser that got past the intercept group. Long story short, I'm here, she isn't. Unfortunately, I still ate a torpedo. So I've had a two star mother henning me from top to bottom while a four star has been trying to calm another two star who has been very insistent upon tending this matter as soon as possible."
"And what matter would that be?" Jupiter asked curious.
"Harry James Potter, son of Lily Potter nee Evans. Admiral Evans and his son, Captain Evans wish to meet the last scion of their family and see to his safety. The Admiral also has heard that young Mister Potter is in the process of assembling his own fleet. 'Fighting Bob' Evans is eager to see how young Master Potter is handling the family talent." At that, Iowa produced from her hand two fairies, one who looked up at Jupiter and nodded an approving look and the other simply standing quiet behind his father.
"I see. I see indeed."
Snippet 3: Harry Leferts
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Leaning back some after being massaged after another training session with Hoshi, Harry let out a soft sigh at the remaining stiffness in his muscles. Yes, he had to admit that it was harsh on him. But one thing that he could not deny was that it was also effective. If nothing else, Hoshi was a very good teacher.
However, that did not make the sessions any less painful, though it helped to push that aside.
Shaking off those thoughts though, Harry walked over to the bag and began to root through it as two pairs of eyes watched. With a glance at the fox watching him, he internally frowned. Who she was, he did not know but there was something extremely familiar about said fox. And throughout the training session, he had seen her wince and cringe. At least once or twice, she had looked like she was about to jump in only to stop herself or at a look from Hoshi.
That was not counting some of the other expressions she had given him as she observed the training. It was mainly due to being friends with Natsumi that he was able to recognize them at all. Hope warred with worry, happiness with sadness, fear with concern. But above all, there was a hunger in her eyes. Not a physical one, but... there just the same.
Odd.
Putting that out of his mind though, Harry internally shrugged as he knew whoever it was, Hoshi would not have let her be there if she did not trust the vixen. Instead, the wizard pulled out some plates, hard tack, beef jerky, and powdered milk. Even as he did so, the unnamed fox watched with confusion as Hoshi had a slight smirk of amusement. Mixing the powdered milk with some water, Harry poured it into a bowl. With a wave of his wand, the milk became butter.
Said transfiguration was followed by him turning the hard tack into warm bread and the beef jerky into strips of cooked steak. Rather amused at the shocked look on the other fox's face, Hoshi took one of the plates and used a plastic knife to cut the bread and spread some butter in it, "You are quite good at this, Harry-San."
With a shrug as he spread some butter on a piece of bread, Harry gave a slight smile, "It's not that hard really of a transfiguration. And it is also great practice to boot as well." Gesturing at each piece of the meal, he shook his head, "One dairy product into another, milk into butter. A form of grain into a different one, hard tack into bread. Finally just changing the states of beef from jerky into steak. It is pretty simple when you get down to it." Placing the bread onto a plate, the wizard set it down in front of the other fox, which looked surprise before he gently patted it on the head. There was a part of him that swore that it blushed from the attention before he turned back to Hoshi, "It is all one type to another, closely related one. And a useful skill since the basics are cheaper."
Humming as she took a bite of the jerky turned steak, Hoshi smiled a bit, "A very useful skill at that." Giving a glance at the other fox who was gobbling down her meal only caused her amusement to grow, "How are your other extra lessons going?"
Not realizing that the unknown fox had paused and was listening intently, the thirteen year old frowned, "Pretty well. Professors Wolff are happy and the Magicite is coming along well. Should have it ready by the summer. They also donated some for use in a summoning that they had laying around. Professor McGonagall is extremely pleased with my extra transfiguration classes and we've covered all the previous years spells, same with Professor Snape and the previous potions. Without having to redo all the written work, it's gone a lot faster and they've told me that I've done extremely well."
On the Kitsune's face was a slight smile as she nodded and glanced at the other fox, who had a look of pride, "That is quite good. And they're going to branch out now from what you told me?"
Harry gave a nod at that, "Yes, we've covered everything that I was taught already, so now they're going to go over things that could have been on the curriculum but wasn't due to lack of room." Briefly, he chewed his lip and glanced at the other fox, "I think that I might be right with what I am suspecting from them."
Perking up some, Hoshi blinked, "Really now?" At his nod, she bummed with a slight smile, "That could turn out interesting..."
Eventually though, the food was all gone and everything put back away. With that, Harry turned to the fox and frowned, "Um..."
For several moments, no one said anything but then the fox transformed and Harry had to blink. Every Kitsune he had met thus far looked Japanese, though some like Hoshi seemed to have some Chinese or Korean in them, though that last was hard to tell. Granted, when he had visited Natsumi's home town, he had caught a glimpse of a Kitsune who looked like they had European or American blood.
In this case though? The fox spirit looked purely European and when she spoke, Harry had to blink at the Irish lilt to her voice, "Harry-Child, I..."
As she trailed off and looked nervous, Harry just watched though he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Mainly because upon seeing her, the call to be close to her increased. The want, the need sang in his very blood to do so. At the same time, the fox-woman seemed to be trying to say something, but was unable to find the words. Waiting, Harry looked her over and blinked some as she was dressed in what appeared to be clothes like those the Ancient Celts wore.
Finally though, Hoshi sighed and shook her head before clearing her throat, "Harry-San? I would like you to meet Siusan."
Horrified, Siusan stared at her fellow fox before whimpering was the thirteen year old turned his gaze upon her. She shrunk in on herself as he stared until he spoke, "... Grandmother?"
Swallowing, the Irish fox nodded, "I... yes, that is what I have been called by mine and Brigid's children."
That name tickled something in Harry's mind which made him frown. Something that made Siusan flinch a bit he noted. It was then though that Hoshi stood up and brushed herself off, "I think that I will leave the two of you here and check up on some things."
Mouth working, Siusan stared at her, only for Hoshi to make a motion with her hand and walk out of sight. Yet again, silence fell as the two stared at each other. Or, rather, Harry watched as Siusan moved her lips silently and nervously wrung her hands. Finally though, Harry spoke up, "I... thought that you were dead. I mean, after reading Mum's, my biological one's, journals. What with..."
Looking down with a wince, Siusan shook her head as she spoke quietly, "I did not mean to abandon you, not like..."
Head tilted to the side, Harry frowned some as one piece came to mind, "Aunt Petunia." Seeing her confusion, he continued, "She banished you from her home, didn't she? And that is why..."
Slowly, Siusan nodded, "Yes, I was unable to come close due to her doing so. If I could, I would have taken you myself away from that place."
Part of Harry wondered how that would have went, being raised by the fox spirit in front of him. Dismissing that, he decided to focus on something else, "I'm not surprised about Aunt Petunia. Considering how she treated me, well... yeah." Head tilted to the side, he frowned, "And after?"
Taking some heart in how there are was no anger in his time, no incrimination or hate, just curiosity, the Irish fox took a deep breath, "By the time I knew that you were gone from Petunia-Child's home, and arrived, you were somewhere far from here. I could just tell that you were alive, but not where." Yet against, she seemed to shrink in on herself, "Many nights I wondered if I should seek you out, but..."
Considering that, Harry shook his head, "I was in Japan, almost all the way on the opposite side of the world. You probably wouldn't have been able to find me." He then cocked his head to the side, something that Siusan noted made him look like a Kit, "What about after? When did you know that I was back?"
Siusan blinked a bit before she spoke, "I... just before your First Year, I think that it was called. You were in that market that the magicals use when I managed to track you down." Hand rubbing her arm, she looked down as if ashamed, "I saw you there and was glad while wanting to go to you, Harry-Child. But... you looked so happy with the shipgirls that... that I did not want to bother you with myself. Just seeing you happy and healthy was enough,"
Internally going over the conversation thus far, the thirteen year old realized what she was not saying, "You thought that I would be angry if you came forward then. That I would hate you or that Mum and such would stop you." The unsure nod was enough answer and he shook his head, "I wouldn't have, though..." Once more, Harry cocked his head to the side, "What changed your mind."
As this was going the way that she had hoped beyond anything else, but feared that it would not have, it took Siusan a few seconds to realize what she had just been asked. Then she raised her head and her eyes met Harry's, Brigid's, "I saw you with the young fox on the shore of the lake. That you accepted her and cared for her, and she you." Shrinking in on herself, she bit her lip, "I thought that perhaps now, you might accept me like you have her."
Eyebrows furrowing, Harry considered that before blushing lightly as he knew what she had likely seen. Of course, that was when he gave a chuckle and rubbed the side of his neck before deciding to try a joke, "Well, Grandmother it would be a bit odd if it was exactly like Natsumi-Chan, though perhaps like Hoshi-San." Just getting confusion and nervousness, he winced as he realized that the joke had fallen flat, "Um, sorry..."
Wincing herself, Siusan shifted a bit unsure, "I... if you do not wish for me to..." It was then that she thought back and blinked as remembered what the two teens were doing. And how she compared it in her head to herself and Brigid... and promptly blushed as she realized what Harry-Child had been hinting to and shook her head rapidly, "O-oh, um... no, Harry-Child, I did not mean accept in the way with Natsumi-Child in that way." Her shoulders slumped and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she spoke, "There is but one that I feel such for and that is Brigid, even now."
His expression softening, the black haired wizard walked over and sat down beside her. Then, to her shock, he pulled her into a hug with a soft whisper in her ear, "I'm sorry for bringing up such a painful memory."
Gently shaking her head, she gave him a weak smile, "It is an old hurt, Harry-Child. But I am glad though that you found such for yourself and Natsumi-Child is a lovely fox."
Lightly blushing some, Harry could only nod, "Um, yeah, she is." Sitting down next to her, he was quiet for a few moments before clearing his throat, "So, er... Brigid? As in the Brigid from the story 'Brigid and the Fox'? And..."
Tilting her head to the side, Siusan had a slight look of amusement on her face, though there was some sadness there as well, "Indeed, Brigid is the one from the story and I was the fox. Though why the humans confused her with the one known as the Saint I do not know." Her gaze became far off, as if seeing something that only her eyes could, "Brigid... was beautiful, a wonderful woman. I loved her as she loved me, as she loved all things good in the world and it is less light for her being gone. But... I failed her... even though I knew, had seen, her death coming I was unable to prevent it."
Curious, Harry chewed his lip some, "You do not need to tell me if it hurts..."
Siusan shook her head however, "It is, as I said, an old hurt child. Brigid... Her father could find few who would wish to marry her until one came forward. By doing so, his status rose, though Brigid herself did not wish it. As well, no matter what they did, she could not bear him a child, and he was going to divorce her and leave her in shame, likely to become a Nun after. So... when she came to me, I..." A small bit of a blush appeared on her cheeks, "I gave her a child, and more after. But her husband was angry for this."
Eyes narrowing, the teen frowned, "Because he thought that she had cheated on him?"
Much to his confusion, Siusan shook her head, "No, he had not thought such. It was only after one of the songbirds overheard him speaking with a witch that I found he had paid her to cast a spell, to prevent him from giving child. He assumed that she had cheated him and ran her through, even though she proclaimed she had done no such thing. But he had used other magic to be certain that she could not lay with a man without his knowing, and it showed such, that she had not." A small smirk crossed her face, "As I am not a man."
It took only moments for Harry to realize what she was hinting at, "He had been planning to divorce her from the very beginning."
Slowly, Siusan nodded, "Aye, he had. And with that, he could have kept the lands and such gifted to him as it would not be his 'fault' that she would not bear child. But with her children, that was impossible... Shortly after the witch, mere years later, I had a dream of Brigid choking to death. She considered my worry silly, but allowed for me to watch over her. And, as I feared, she died choking, though not on food." Hands clenching, she growled, "For he had poisoned her, in an effort to get rid of her and the children, though I had saved them... yet I was unable to save her. The bastard though did not live long enough to benefit."
All Harry did was nod, "Good." Patting her hand, he gave her a small smile, "I think that Brigid would be happy that you saved your children though."
On the Irish fox's face was a sad smile, "That is what I can only hope." Then her expression fell, "For a time after, our children, and their children, and their children's children and myself were... well, with each other. But slowly, they grew to hate and fear me. When I tried to prevent their deaths and failed, some believed me to be a harbinger of ill fortune. It seemed to cause them pain to be around them, though I... I could not leave them. They were all that was left of Brigid in this cold world. One by one, they closed their homes and their descendant's homes to me, so I clung all the harder to those that remained, but that hurt them more. Until..."
Gently holding her hand, Harry nodded, "Until all that was left was my Mum's family."
That got him a nod from the female being next to him, "They were... and when I met Lily, and saw her eyes..."
Slightly smiling, Harry chuckled some, "I keep being told that I have my Mum's eyes."
Head tilted to the side, Siusan shook her head, "No, Harry-Child, you have Brigid's eyes." Her expression softened some as her voice became a whisper, "And it makes me happy that part of her is still here." Once more, Harry gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she let out a sigh, "I... made a necklace for Lily-Child, that she could use to call me. That necklace was always on my mind, especially after... after visions I had of Lily drowning which is why I was surprised when she was killed."
Blinking, Harry turned to her, "Drowning?" At the nod, he frowned in thought, "Um... Grandmother? Did you know that Mum was a shipgirl? An unawakened Natural Born?"
Jaw dropping, his ancestor boggled, "No, I..." Eyebrows furrowing, Siusan frowned, "Lily-Child was a shipgirl? Then what I saw..."
Harry nodded, "Was likely Mum's first death, when she sank as a ship. And if you can see death, then that many people dying would have overridden what was going to happen, which is what you saw."
Shoulders slumping, Siusan let some tears escape from her eyes, "I was so frightened that I inadvertedly doomed her..."
Patting her, the black haired teen shook his head, "You didn't." A frown on his face, he looked forward, "Grandpa, Mum's Dad... he hated himself for not giving her the necklace."
Sharply frowning, Siusan shook her head, "Harold-Child, though that name does not fit him, should not have hated himself."
All Harry did though was shrug his shoulders, "Well, in his journals he stated he did. That every time Mum visited him during the war, he was going to tell her about the necklace and give it to, only to stop at the last moment. Especially after Mum and Dad went into hiding with me, he really hated himself for not telling her about it. Part of it was that... he knew you could protect Mum and I far better then he could..."
Only shaking her head, Siusan sighed, "A silly child, though understandable."
Continuing, Harry grimaced a little, "Don't know for sure myself. But, well... he also wrote that he knew that you would help and protect both Mum and I. And that you would die before allowing harm to come to us. He didn't want that to happen."
For almost a minute, Siusan was silent before speaking in a voice full of emotion, "I would have died for you or Lily-Child. If I was there, I would have placed myself between you and the darkness... and if I died? I would have been happy and could have met Brigid with a smile knowing that I protected you." The atmosphere heavy with emotion, she looked him in the eye with tears at the corner of hers, "Do not doubt that, child. I would die and do so happily if it meant that you would live."
Moving forward, the teenaged wizard gave her a hug, "I know, Grandmother." Pulling back, he gave her a smile, "I'm glad that I finally get to meet you, and I accept you."
At those words, Siusan seemed to come utterly undone and she pulled him close while sobbing heavily into his chest. The sobs soon became wails as she cried, his shirt becoming soaked with her tears. He still cared for her, accepted her, despite her failures. This boy, Brigid's childe, had not rejected her. Inside, a small part of the scars on her heart closed over finally as pure relief and joy washed through her.
Holding her, Harry just stroked her head as she wailed. The whole time, he continued to whisper to her, "I love you, Grandmother. You are family and family loves, cares, and accepts one another."
If anything, that made her wails deepen and she held him all the tighter.
However, that did not make the sessions any less painful, though it helped to push that aside.
Shaking off those thoughts though, Harry walked over to the bag and began to root through it as two pairs of eyes watched. With a glance at the fox watching him, he internally frowned. Who she was, he did not know but there was something extremely familiar about said fox. And throughout the training session, he had seen her wince and cringe. At least once or twice, she had looked like she was about to jump in only to stop herself or at a look from Hoshi.
That was not counting some of the other expressions she had given him as she observed the training. It was mainly due to being friends with Natsumi that he was able to recognize them at all. Hope warred with worry, happiness with sadness, fear with concern. But above all, there was a hunger in her eyes. Not a physical one, but... there just the same.
Odd.
Putting that out of his mind though, Harry internally shrugged as he knew whoever it was, Hoshi would not have let her be there if she did not trust the vixen. Instead, the wizard pulled out some plates, hard tack, beef jerky, and powdered milk. Even as he did so, the unnamed fox watched with confusion as Hoshi had a slight smirk of amusement. Mixing the powdered milk with some water, Harry poured it into a bowl. With a wave of his wand, the milk became butter.
Said transfiguration was followed by him turning the hard tack into warm bread and the beef jerky into strips of cooked steak. Rather amused at the shocked look on the other fox's face, Hoshi took one of the plates and used a plastic knife to cut the bread and spread some butter in it, "You are quite good at this, Harry-San."
With a shrug as he spread some butter on a piece of bread, Harry gave a slight smile, "It's not that hard really of a transfiguration. And it is also great practice to boot as well." Gesturing at each piece of the meal, he shook his head, "One dairy product into another, milk into butter. A form of grain into a different one, hard tack into bread. Finally just changing the states of beef from jerky into steak. It is pretty simple when you get down to it." Placing the bread onto a plate, the wizard set it down in front of the other fox, which looked surprise before he gently patted it on the head. There was a part of him that swore that it blushed from the attention before he turned back to Hoshi, "It is all one type to another, closely related one. And a useful skill since the basics are cheaper."
Humming as she took a bite of the jerky turned steak, Hoshi smiled a bit, "A very useful skill at that." Giving a glance at the other fox who was gobbling down her meal only caused her amusement to grow, "How are your other extra lessons going?"
Not realizing that the unknown fox had paused and was listening intently, the thirteen year old frowned, "Pretty well. Professors Wolff are happy and the Magicite is coming along well. Should have it ready by the summer. They also donated some for use in a summoning that they had laying around. Professor McGonagall is extremely pleased with my extra transfiguration classes and we've covered all the previous years spells, same with Professor Snape and the previous potions. Without having to redo all the written work, it's gone a lot faster and they've told me that I've done extremely well."
On the Kitsune's face was a slight smile as she nodded and glanced at the other fox, who had a look of pride, "That is quite good. And they're going to branch out now from what you told me?"
Harry gave a nod at that, "Yes, we've covered everything that I was taught already, so now they're going to go over things that could have been on the curriculum but wasn't due to lack of room." Briefly, he chewed his lip and glanced at the other fox, "I think that I might be right with what I am suspecting from them."
Perking up some, Hoshi blinked, "Really now?" At his nod, she bummed with a slight smile, "That could turn out interesting..."
Eventually though, the food was all gone and everything put back away. With that, Harry turned to the fox and frowned, "Um..."
For several moments, no one said anything but then the fox transformed and Harry had to blink. Every Kitsune he had met thus far looked Japanese, though some like Hoshi seemed to have some Chinese or Korean in them, though that last was hard to tell. Granted, when he had visited Natsumi's home town, he had caught a glimpse of a Kitsune who looked like they had European or American blood.
In this case though? The fox spirit looked purely European and when she spoke, Harry had to blink at the Irish lilt to her voice, "Harry-Child, I..."
As she trailed off and looked nervous, Harry just watched though he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Mainly because upon seeing her, the call to be close to her increased. The want, the need sang in his very blood to do so. At the same time, the fox-woman seemed to be trying to say something, but was unable to find the words. Waiting, Harry looked her over and blinked some as she was dressed in what appeared to be clothes like those the Ancient Celts wore.
Finally though, Hoshi sighed and shook her head before clearing her throat, "Harry-San? I would like you to meet Siusan."
Horrified, Siusan stared at her fellow fox before whimpering was the thirteen year old turned his gaze upon her. She shrunk in on herself as he stared until he spoke, "... Grandmother?"
Swallowing, the Irish fox nodded, "I... yes, that is what I have been called by mine and Brigid's children."
That name tickled something in Harry's mind which made him frown. Something that made Siusan flinch a bit he noted. It was then though that Hoshi stood up and brushed herself off, "I think that I will leave the two of you here and check up on some things."
Mouth working, Siusan stared at her, only for Hoshi to make a motion with her hand and walk out of sight. Yet again, silence fell as the two stared at each other. Or, rather, Harry watched as Siusan moved her lips silently and nervously wrung her hands. Finally though, Harry spoke up, "I... thought that you were dead. I mean, after reading Mum's, my biological one's, journals. What with..."
Looking down with a wince, Siusan shook her head as she spoke quietly, "I did not mean to abandon you, not like..."
Head tilted to the side, Harry frowned some as one piece came to mind, "Aunt Petunia." Seeing her confusion, he continued, "She banished you from her home, didn't she? And that is why..."
Slowly, Siusan nodded, "Yes, I was unable to come close due to her doing so. If I could, I would have taken you myself away from that place."
Part of Harry wondered how that would have went, being raised by the fox spirit in front of him. Dismissing that, he decided to focus on something else, "I'm not surprised about Aunt Petunia. Considering how she treated me, well... yeah." Head tilted to the side, he frowned, "And after?"
Taking some heart in how there are was no anger in his time, no incrimination or hate, just curiosity, the Irish fox took a deep breath, "By the time I knew that you were gone from Petunia-Child's home, and arrived, you were somewhere far from here. I could just tell that you were alive, but not where." Yet against, she seemed to shrink in on herself, "Many nights I wondered if I should seek you out, but..."
Considering that, Harry shook his head, "I was in Japan, almost all the way on the opposite side of the world. You probably wouldn't have been able to find me." He then cocked his head to the side, something that Siusan noted made him look like a Kit, "What about after? When did you know that I was back?"
Siusan blinked a bit before she spoke, "I... just before your First Year, I think that it was called. You were in that market that the magicals use when I managed to track you down." Hand rubbing her arm, she looked down as if ashamed, "I saw you there and was glad while wanting to go to you, Harry-Child. But... you looked so happy with the shipgirls that... that I did not want to bother you with myself. Just seeing you happy and healthy was enough,"
Internally going over the conversation thus far, the thirteen year old realized what she was not saying, "You thought that I would be angry if you came forward then. That I would hate you or that Mum and such would stop you." The unsure nod was enough answer and he shook his head, "I wouldn't have, though..." Once more, Harry cocked his head to the side, "What changed your mind."
As this was going the way that she had hoped beyond anything else, but feared that it would not have, it took Siusan a few seconds to realize what she had just been asked. Then she raised her head and her eyes met Harry's, Brigid's, "I saw you with the young fox on the shore of the lake. That you accepted her and cared for her, and she you." Shrinking in on herself, she bit her lip, "I thought that perhaps now, you might accept me like you have her."
Eyebrows furrowing, Harry considered that before blushing lightly as he knew what she had likely seen. Of course, that was when he gave a chuckle and rubbed the side of his neck before deciding to try a joke, "Well, Grandmother it would be a bit odd if it was exactly like Natsumi-Chan, though perhaps like Hoshi-San." Just getting confusion and nervousness, he winced as he realized that the joke had fallen flat, "Um, sorry..."
Wincing herself, Siusan shifted a bit unsure, "I... if you do not wish for me to..." It was then that she thought back and blinked as remembered what the two teens were doing. And how she compared it in her head to herself and Brigid... and promptly blushed as she realized what Harry-Child had been hinting to and shook her head rapidly, "O-oh, um... no, Harry-Child, I did not mean accept in the way with Natsumi-Child in that way." Her shoulders slumped and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she spoke, "There is but one that I feel such for and that is Brigid, even now."
His expression softening, the black haired wizard walked over and sat down beside her. Then, to her shock, he pulled her into a hug with a soft whisper in her ear, "I'm sorry for bringing up such a painful memory."
Gently shaking her head, she gave him a weak smile, "It is an old hurt, Harry-Child. But I am glad though that you found such for yourself and Natsumi-Child is a lovely fox."
Lightly blushing some, Harry could only nod, "Um, yeah, she is." Sitting down next to her, he was quiet for a few moments before clearing his throat, "So, er... Brigid? As in the Brigid from the story 'Brigid and the Fox'? And..."
Tilting her head to the side, Siusan had a slight look of amusement on her face, though there was some sadness there as well, "Indeed, Brigid is the one from the story and I was the fox. Though why the humans confused her with the one known as the Saint I do not know." Her gaze became far off, as if seeing something that only her eyes could, "Brigid... was beautiful, a wonderful woman. I loved her as she loved me, as she loved all things good in the world and it is less light for her being gone. But... I failed her... even though I knew, had seen, her death coming I was unable to prevent it."
Curious, Harry chewed his lip some, "You do not need to tell me if it hurts..."
Siusan shook her head however, "It is, as I said, an old hurt child. Brigid... Her father could find few who would wish to marry her until one came forward. By doing so, his status rose, though Brigid herself did not wish it. As well, no matter what they did, she could not bear him a child, and he was going to divorce her and leave her in shame, likely to become a Nun after. So... when she came to me, I..." A small bit of a blush appeared on her cheeks, "I gave her a child, and more after. But her husband was angry for this."
Eyes narrowing, the teen frowned, "Because he thought that she had cheated on him?"
Much to his confusion, Siusan shook her head, "No, he had not thought such. It was only after one of the songbirds overheard him speaking with a witch that I found he had paid her to cast a spell, to prevent him from giving child. He assumed that she had cheated him and ran her through, even though she proclaimed she had done no such thing. But he had used other magic to be certain that she could not lay with a man without his knowing, and it showed such, that she had not." A small smirk crossed her face, "As I am not a man."
It took only moments for Harry to realize what she was hinting at, "He had been planning to divorce her from the very beginning."
Slowly, Siusan nodded, "Aye, he had. And with that, he could have kept the lands and such gifted to him as it would not be his 'fault' that she would not bear child. But with her children, that was impossible... Shortly after the witch, mere years later, I had a dream of Brigid choking to death. She considered my worry silly, but allowed for me to watch over her. And, as I feared, she died choking, though not on food." Hands clenching, she growled, "For he had poisoned her, in an effort to get rid of her and the children, though I had saved them... yet I was unable to save her. The bastard though did not live long enough to benefit."
All Harry did was nod, "Good." Patting her hand, he gave her a small smile, "I think that Brigid would be happy that you saved your children though."
On the Irish fox's face was a sad smile, "That is what I can only hope." Then her expression fell, "For a time after, our children, and their children, and their children's children and myself were... well, with each other. But slowly, they grew to hate and fear me. When I tried to prevent their deaths and failed, some believed me to be a harbinger of ill fortune. It seemed to cause them pain to be around them, though I... I could not leave them. They were all that was left of Brigid in this cold world. One by one, they closed their homes and their descendant's homes to me, so I clung all the harder to those that remained, but that hurt them more. Until..."
Gently holding her hand, Harry nodded, "Until all that was left was my Mum's family."
That got him a nod from the female being next to him, "They were... and when I met Lily, and saw her eyes..."
Slightly smiling, Harry chuckled some, "I keep being told that I have my Mum's eyes."
Head tilted to the side, Siusan shook her head, "No, Harry-Child, you have Brigid's eyes." Her expression softened some as her voice became a whisper, "And it makes me happy that part of her is still here." Once more, Harry gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she let out a sigh, "I... made a necklace for Lily-Child, that she could use to call me. That necklace was always on my mind, especially after... after visions I had of Lily drowning which is why I was surprised when she was killed."
Blinking, Harry turned to her, "Drowning?" At the nod, he frowned in thought, "Um... Grandmother? Did you know that Mum was a shipgirl? An unawakened Natural Born?"
Jaw dropping, his ancestor boggled, "No, I..." Eyebrows furrowing, Siusan frowned, "Lily-Child was a shipgirl? Then what I saw..."
Harry nodded, "Was likely Mum's first death, when she sank as a ship. And if you can see death, then that many people dying would have overridden what was going to happen, which is what you saw."
Shoulders slumping, Siusan let some tears escape from her eyes, "I was so frightened that I inadvertedly doomed her..."
Patting her, the black haired teen shook his head, "You didn't." A frown on his face, he looked forward, "Grandpa, Mum's Dad... he hated himself for not giving her the necklace."
Sharply frowning, Siusan shook her head, "Harold-Child, though that name does not fit him, should not have hated himself."
All Harry did though was shrug his shoulders, "Well, in his journals he stated he did. That every time Mum visited him during the war, he was going to tell her about the necklace and give it to, only to stop at the last moment. Especially after Mum and Dad went into hiding with me, he really hated himself for not telling her about it. Part of it was that... he knew you could protect Mum and I far better then he could..."
Only shaking her head, Siusan sighed, "A silly child, though understandable."
Continuing, Harry grimaced a little, "Don't know for sure myself. But, well... he also wrote that he knew that you would help and protect both Mum and I. And that you would die before allowing harm to come to us. He didn't want that to happen."
For almost a minute, Siusan was silent before speaking in a voice full of emotion, "I would have died for you or Lily-Child. If I was there, I would have placed myself between you and the darkness... and if I died? I would have been happy and could have met Brigid with a smile knowing that I protected you." The atmosphere heavy with emotion, she looked him in the eye with tears at the corner of hers, "Do not doubt that, child. I would die and do so happily if it meant that you would live."
Moving forward, the teenaged wizard gave her a hug, "I know, Grandmother." Pulling back, he gave her a smile, "I'm glad that I finally get to meet you, and I accept you."
At those words, Siusan seemed to come utterly undone and she pulled him close while sobbing heavily into his chest. The sobs soon became wails as she cried, his shirt becoming soaked with her tears. He still cared for her, accepted her, despite her failures. This boy, Brigid's childe, had not rejected her. Inside, a small part of the scars on her heart closed over finally as pure relief and joy washed through her.
Holding her, Harry just stroked her head as she wailed. The whole time, he continued to whisper to her, "I love you, Grandmother. You are family and family loves, cares, and accepts one another."
If anything, that made her wails deepen and she held him all the tighter.
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Snippet 1: RCNAnon
- Location
- USA
Hello all. Long time no see from me. Ron is finally back in action now that my muse isn't strangled to death by work. This is still back in summer break because holy shit I'm behind but I hope you all enjoy.
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Molly Weasley waited as patiently as she could as the gate guard phoned back to someone higher up the totem pole of HMNB Portsmouth. It was seemingly inevitable that something would go wrong with her getting into the base given how rushed everything was. Her mind flitted back to the conversation which had started her part in all of this, even as her hands smoothed the muggle skirt and blouse she wore.
"Ron is fine but he had another adventure." Said Arthur's seemingly disembodied head from the fireplace, having appeared in the middle of her making supper. "He somehow tripped over a friendly abyssal Princess while out flying. She's a lot like Miss Wanko from the wedding, including her size. She understandably skittish at the moment so Ron is staying with her while we wait on word from the Admiralty."
"Well that's all good but what are you telling me all of this for?" Molly was still unsure how to process all of this, given that the sudden Floo message had come without warning.
"Ron seems to think she's not going to be at ease any time soon and there's a minor problem of there not being anything large enough for her to wear on the island aside from the dress she started with. So if you could, can you check to see if anyone might have something or could make something for her to wear? Ron also wanted you to see if you could move up the purchase date of their house. He thinks Summer might be more at ease there."
Confusion turned to purpose and just a little bit of frustration as Molly looked over to the dinner in front of her.
"Very well. I suppose I'll just have to finish this roast and get started then. When are you likely to come back?"
"Ron is probably coming back in a day or two. I've still got to see the rest of my diplomatic mission through." There was clear regret in Arthur's voice. The still rising importance of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office and Arthur's sheer indispensability as the head had meant a steadily increasing quality of life for the Weasley family. Yet it had also meant that he had more responsibilities at the office and travel that lasted longer than simple day trips.
"I understand honey." Molly let her voice soften since there was nobody else around to hear her at the moment. "Do hurry if you can. You know how much I miss you."
"I know love." Arthur smiled at her. "I'll probably be able to come home a day or two early but nothing more. I'll let you know. Until then." With that Arthur's head disappeared with a "Pop" and the fire died back to its normal reddish hue.
Molly shook herself back into the present with a huff. She'd only had a day and half but she'd secured a private fitting for Summer by a friend of a friend and managed to badger the wizard realtor of the property to meet them with the deed the next day.
Still, she was going to give Ron a piece of her mind when this was all over. Being so reckless and then having her rush around! It was enough to drive her to nerves!
Finally the marine on the phone set it down and walked back to her.
"Apologies ma'am. The Admiral himself says you're to be let through."
As the man was speaking a muggle vehicle pulled up, another of the marines driving it while the engine sputtered noisily.
"If you'll get in Jenkins will take you where you need to go."
"Thank you." Molly nodded to the man and gingerly climbed into the vehicle, still rather unused to such things despite the growing exposure she got between Arthur, Ron and Percy. When she was properly seated and buckled in the marine got the thing moving again and they were off. Molly couldn't help but hold onto the side of the door as he drove, the base passing quickly by.
They pulled up next to what looked like a warehouse of some kind, several larger vehicles with eight wheels sitting in front of it along with more like the one she was in. Several guards were in attendance and one of them opened the door for her to climb out.
She nodded in thanks to the man and he pointed to a small door off to the side of the larger cargo door.
"They're waiting for you inside."
"Thank you." Molly gave the marine a brief smile and walked over to the door.
As she approached the door opened and two men in suits carrying briefcases stepped out. They both had a pleased look and gave her polite nods as they got into a distinctly more civilian looking vehicle that was nearby.
Stepping through the door herself Molly was greeted by a mostly empty warehouse. The back had some items tucked away on shelves but what she was interested in was right up front. Ron was seated on a chair next to Warspite and Duke of York, perfectly fine as Arthur had said. Despite knowing he wouldn't lie to her it was a relief to see him hale and healthy.
On the other side of Ron was an enormous woman who could only be Summer. It was one thing to be told she was tall. It was another to see the woman tower over everyone, not helped by the fact that she was standing. That was hardly surprising, a normal chair would shatter to pieces at the thought of supporting someone her size. She was currently speaking with Admiral Whitcomb and another ship-girl she didn't know.
Steeling herself, Molly stood to her admittedly short full height and made her way over to the grouping.
"Now that the Accords have been signed we just need to wait on the purchase of the house..." Whitcomb was saying to Summer as Molly approached, only to be stopped by the other ship-girl she didn't recognize. Whitcomb turned and smiled as he saw Molly.
"Ah, Mrs. Weasley. We were just talking about you." Whitcomb offered his hand and Molly shook it politely.
"Nothing bad I hope." Molly forced herself to keep her eyes on the Admiral, as much as she wanted to go over to Ron.
"No, just speaking of the pending purchase of the manor house. Though now that you're here I suppose you can end the suspense for all of us." He gestured to the rest of the group. "I suppose introduction are in order first though."
Molly took the invitation and looked over to the group around Ron.
"Warspite, Duke. It's good to see you again." Molly smiled at the pair. As much as she'd had reservations the first time she'd caught Ron passed out over a set of blueprints, there was no denying they'd both been good for the boy.
"Molly." Warspite nodded in return.
"Mrs. Weasley." Duke was still overly formal but she was working on that.
Turning her gaze to her son, Molly felt her worry burble over again.
"Ronald."
"Mum." Ron had the decency to look slightly abashed from her glare.
"You and I are going to have a talk about wandering off by yourself young man. You almost gave me a heart attack when your father..." As the heat in her voice grew slightly, Molly was surprised enough to stop when the massive abyssal woman stepped forward… and wrapped her arms protectively around Ron.
It was almost comical, how much she had to crouch to do so. Then there was the fact that she was clearly trembling, terrified of… her? Yet there was a resolve somewhere inside of her that Molly could see clearly.
"D-don't b-be mean t-to Ron..." The abyssal's voice was much to small and quiet to be coming from someone her size but Molly still heard her clearly. She looked to Ron, who seemed almost as surprised as she was. Though that might have been due to where his head was…
"It's fine Summer. She's just worried about me." Ron looked up at the massive pale woman, who backed off when he finally patted her on the arm.
Summer nodded to Ron… and then seemed to collapse even more on herself when Molly kept staring at her. In that manner she was certainly nothing like Ms. Wanko, who though quiet had plenty of self confidence.
"I think we need to start over. I'm Molly Weasley. Ron's mother." She stepped up to Summer and offered her hand.
Summer seemed to try and back away from her as she offered her hand but slowly reached out and carefully took it with her own massive metal covered one.
"I'm… Summer. Ron's friend."
Molly managed to smile at the giant abyssal.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Summer. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other."
The abyssal nodded meekly, then seemed to scurry back behind Ron.
Molly looked over to Duke and Warspite, who seemed to shrug without actually doing so.
"Well if you were all waiting on word for the house, I managed to get in contact with the realtor. He'll meet us there tomorrow to hand over the deed as the payment has now officially gone through Gringotts."
A wave of relief swept through the room, with Ron, Duke and Warspite smiling, the Admiral and his ship-girl nodding and Summer perking up somewhat.
"He says it might be a bit messy but you should be able to move in almost right away. I thought the four… no, five of us could go shopping today and see what we could find in the way of furniture." She gestured to the group around Ron.
"That sounds lovely. There's plenty for us to pick up." Warspite spoke smoothly, though Molly saw her elbow Duke for some reason. "Did you find someone who might be able to fit Summer?"
"Yes, we've a meeting planned later today actually. Part of the reason I wanted you to all come with me." Molly nodded. "I actually have something for Summer." She held out a ring to the massive woman.
"F-for me?" Summer took the ring carefully.
"Yes. It's a notice me not ring. I borrowed it from a friend. It should keep you from being noticed by anyone if we need to go out in public. The wizarding world is… less used to Abyssals."
Summer nodded, holding onto the ring as if it were a talisman of some kind.
"Well our business is done here, so I'll let you get to it." Admiral Whitcomb nodded to the ship-girl next to him. "I believe we have a meeting to get to Resource."
"Yessir." Resource drawled around a pipe. "Supply meeting. Very exciting."
Whitcomb shook his head at the girl fondly before heading for the door, leaving the five of them in the warehouse.
"Well there's no time to waste." Molly took command of the situation immediately. "We've got clothes fitting and furniture to shopping to do. I think it would be easiest if we took the floo…" She looked over to Summer. "Or maybe we should take the Knight Bus."
Ron immediately looked concerned, looking between his mother and Summer.
"Mum… the ring will help but we still need a reason for Summer to be there."
Molly looked at the massive pale woman, mind seeking a reason that would let them pass.
"She's a frost giant. We're taking her shopping for the first time."
"Mum there's no such thing as a frost giant."
"Not in Britain. She's from… Sweden."
Ron looked up to Summer, who seemed just as confused as he was.
"It will work out Ron. If it doesn't we'll manage. It's not as if the Knight Bus crew is all that bright."
Ron opened his mouth, about to shake his head but instead he just nodded. At least his mom hadn't asked what could go wrong. That would have spelled doom to the whole adventure.
"Alright Mum. I suppose we should get going."
"Yes. Come on all of you, we shouldn't be inside when we flag them."
The group headed for the door, the two ship-girls looking at each other and wondering what they were about to experience
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Part of me feels like this is hot garbage but I'm probably just being overly critical since it's my first piece in months. Comments appreciated.
-----------------------------------------
Molly Weasley waited as patiently as she could as the gate guard phoned back to someone higher up the totem pole of HMNB Portsmouth. It was seemingly inevitable that something would go wrong with her getting into the base given how rushed everything was. Her mind flitted back to the conversation which had started her part in all of this, even as her hands smoothed the muggle skirt and blouse she wore.
"Ron is fine but he had another adventure." Said Arthur's seemingly disembodied head from the fireplace, having appeared in the middle of her making supper. "He somehow tripped over a friendly abyssal Princess while out flying. She's a lot like Miss Wanko from the wedding, including her size. She understandably skittish at the moment so Ron is staying with her while we wait on word from the Admiralty."
"Well that's all good but what are you telling me all of this for?" Molly was still unsure how to process all of this, given that the sudden Floo message had come without warning.
"Ron seems to think she's not going to be at ease any time soon and there's a minor problem of there not being anything large enough for her to wear on the island aside from the dress she started with. So if you could, can you check to see if anyone might have something or could make something for her to wear? Ron also wanted you to see if you could move up the purchase date of their house. He thinks Summer might be more at ease there."
Confusion turned to purpose and just a little bit of frustration as Molly looked over to the dinner in front of her.
"Very well. I suppose I'll just have to finish this roast and get started then. When are you likely to come back?"
"Ron is probably coming back in a day or two. I've still got to see the rest of my diplomatic mission through." There was clear regret in Arthur's voice. The still rising importance of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office and Arthur's sheer indispensability as the head had meant a steadily increasing quality of life for the Weasley family. Yet it had also meant that he had more responsibilities at the office and travel that lasted longer than simple day trips.
"I understand honey." Molly let her voice soften since there was nobody else around to hear her at the moment. "Do hurry if you can. You know how much I miss you."
"I know love." Arthur smiled at her. "I'll probably be able to come home a day or two early but nothing more. I'll let you know. Until then." With that Arthur's head disappeared with a "Pop" and the fire died back to its normal reddish hue.
Molly shook herself back into the present with a huff. She'd only had a day and half but she'd secured a private fitting for Summer by a friend of a friend and managed to badger the wizard realtor of the property to meet them with the deed the next day.
Still, she was going to give Ron a piece of her mind when this was all over. Being so reckless and then having her rush around! It was enough to drive her to nerves!
Finally the marine on the phone set it down and walked back to her.
"Apologies ma'am. The Admiral himself says you're to be let through."
As the man was speaking a muggle vehicle pulled up, another of the marines driving it while the engine sputtered noisily.
"If you'll get in Jenkins will take you where you need to go."
"Thank you." Molly nodded to the man and gingerly climbed into the vehicle, still rather unused to such things despite the growing exposure she got between Arthur, Ron and Percy. When she was properly seated and buckled in the marine got the thing moving again and they were off. Molly couldn't help but hold onto the side of the door as he drove, the base passing quickly by.
They pulled up next to what looked like a warehouse of some kind, several larger vehicles with eight wheels sitting in front of it along with more like the one she was in. Several guards were in attendance and one of them opened the door for her to climb out.
She nodded in thanks to the man and he pointed to a small door off to the side of the larger cargo door.
"They're waiting for you inside."
"Thank you." Molly gave the marine a brief smile and walked over to the door.
As she approached the door opened and two men in suits carrying briefcases stepped out. They both had a pleased look and gave her polite nods as they got into a distinctly more civilian looking vehicle that was nearby.
Stepping through the door herself Molly was greeted by a mostly empty warehouse. The back had some items tucked away on shelves but what she was interested in was right up front. Ron was seated on a chair next to Warspite and Duke of York, perfectly fine as Arthur had said. Despite knowing he wouldn't lie to her it was a relief to see him hale and healthy.
On the other side of Ron was an enormous woman who could only be Summer. It was one thing to be told she was tall. It was another to see the woman tower over everyone, not helped by the fact that she was standing. That was hardly surprising, a normal chair would shatter to pieces at the thought of supporting someone her size. She was currently speaking with Admiral Whitcomb and another ship-girl she didn't know.
Steeling herself, Molly stood to her admittedly short full height and made her way over to the grouping.
"Now that the Accords have been signed we just need to wait on the purchase of the house..." Whitcomb was saying to Summer as Molly approached, only to be stopped by the other ship-girl she didn't recognize. Whitcomb turned and smiled as he saw Molly.
"Ah, Mrs. Weasley. We were just talking about you." Whitcomb offered his hand and Molly shook it politely.
"Nothing bad I hope." Molly forced herself to keep her eyes on the Admiral, as much as she wanted to go over to Ron.
"No, just speaking of the pending purchase of the manor house. Though now that you're here I suppose you can end the suspense for all of us." He gestured to the rest of the group. "I suppose introduction are in order first though."
Molly took the invitation and looked over to the group around Ron.
"Warspite, Duke. It's good to see you again." Molly smiled at the pair. As much as she'd had reservations the first time she'd caught Ron passed out over a set of blueprints, there was no denying they'd both been good for the boy.
"Molly." Warspite nodded in return.
"Mrs. Weasley." Duke was still overly formal but she was working on that.
Turning her gaze to her son, Molly felt her worry burble over again.
"Ronald."
"Mum." Ron had the decency to look slightly abashed from her glare.
"You and I are going to have a talk about wandering off by yourself young man. You almost gave me a heart attack when your father..." As the heat in her voice grew slightly, Molly was surprised enough to stop when the massive abyssal woman stepped forward… and wrapped her arms protectively around Ron.
It was almost comical, how much she had to crouch to do so. Then there was the fact that she was clearly trembling, terrified of… her? Yet there was a resolve somewhere inside of her that Molly could see clearly.
"D-don't b-be mean t-to Ron..." The abyssal's voice was much to small and quiet to be coming from someone her size but Molly still heard her clearly. She looked to Ron, who seemed almost as surprised as she was. Though that might have been due to where his head was…
"It's fine Summer. She's just worried about me." Ron looked up at the massive pale woman, who backed off when he finally patted her on the arm.
Summer nodded to Ron… and then seemed to collapse even more on herself when Molly kept staring at her. In that manner she was certainly nothing like Ms. Wanko, who though quiet had plenty of self confidence.
"I think we need to start over. I'm Molly Weasley. Ron's mother." She stepped up to Summer and offered her hand.
Summer seemed to try and back away from her as she offered her hand but slowly reached out and carefully took it with her own massive metal covered one.
"I'm… Summer. Ron's friend."
Molly managed to smile at the giant abyssal.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Summer. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other."
The abyssal nodded meekly, then seemed to scurry back behind Ron.
Molly looked over to Duke and Warspite, who seemed to shrug without actually doing so.
"Well if you were all waiting on word for the house, I managed to get in contact with the realtor. He'll meet us there tomorrow to hand over the deed as the payment has now officially gone through Gringotts."
A wave of relief swept through the room, with Ron, Duke and Warspite smiling, the Admiral and his ship-girl nodding and Summer perking up somewhat.
"He says it might be a bit messy but you should be able to move in almost right away. I thought the four… no, five of us could go shopping today and see what we could find in the way of furniture." She gestured to the group around Ron.
"That sounds lovely. There's plenty for us to pick up." Warspite spoke smoothly, though Molly saw her elbow Duke for some reason. "Did you find someone who might be able to fit Summer?"
"Yes, we've a meeting planned later today actually. Part of the reason I wanted you to all come with me." Molly nodded. "I actually have something for Summer." She held out a ring to the massive woman.
"F-for me?" Summer took the ring carefully.
"Yes. It's a notice me not ring. I borrowed it from a friend. It should keep you from being noticed by anyone if we need to go out in public. The wizarding world is… less used to Abyssals."
Summer nodded, holding onto the ring as if it were a talisman of some kind.
"Well our business is done here, so I'll let you get to it." Admiral Whitcomb nodded to the ship-girl next to him. "I believe we have a meeting to get to Resource."
"Yessir." Resource drawled around a pipe. "Supply meeting. Very exciting."
Whitcomb shook his head at the girl fondly before heading for the door, leaving the five of them in the warehouse.
"Well there's no time to waste." Molly took command of the situation immediately. "We've got clothes fitting and furniture to shopping to do. I think it would be easiest if we took the floo…" She looked over to Summer. "Or maybe we should take the Knight Bus."
Ron immediately looked concerned, looking between his mother and Summer.
"Mum… the ring will help but we still need a reason for Summer to be there."
Molly looked at the massive pale woman, mind seeking a reason that would let them pass.
"She's a frost giant. We're taking her shopping for the first time."
"Mum there's no such thing as a frost giant."
"Not in Britain. She's from… Sweden."
Ron looked up to Summer, who seemed just as confused as he was.
"It will work out Ron. If it doesn't we'll manage. It's not as if the Knight Bus crew is all that bright."
Ron opened his mouth, about to shake his head but instead he just nodded. At least his mom hadn't asked what could go wrong. That would have spelled doom to the whole adventure.
"Alright Mum. I suppose we should get going."
"Yes. Come on all of you, we shouldn't be inside when we flag them."
The group headed for the door, the two ship-girls looking at each other and wondering what they were about to experience
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Part of me feels like this is hot garbage but I'm probably just being overly critical since it's my first piece in months. Comments appreciated.
Snippet 1: Savato93
- Location
- United States
The sisters sat in a circle around the table, deep in thought. Laid out in front of them, was the letter that had been sent by their distant counterpart in the Atlantic—the Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess. Tanith looked to the Chi-class beside her. "Thank you again for helping elaborate on the contents of the letter, Chiana. I got the gist of the message reading it myself, but it wasn't easy through all the prose, and I wanted to be certain there were no misunderstandings."
Ritou huffed. "Yeah, Grandma Nagato did say this princess was old-fashioned, but she's really laying the flowery speech kinda thick."
"To be fair, Medieval times were Ass-Kissing Central," Chiana pointed out. "If rulers weren't peppering their conversations with you with nonstop praise, it was a sign you were about to have a REALLY bad time."
"That aside…" Patty folded her arms. "I never imagined that some new group of Abyssals would go out of their way to contact us like this, let alone to request our help. I mean, if this Princess is preparing to do to the Atlantic what we did to the Pacific, she must be pretty well off in terms of logistics and infrastructure… while us, well, we're kinda on welfare."
"And all that stuff for instructions on how to make a tugboat? It's just bizarre," Ritou continued. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it seems like a fantastic deal. We're getting gold, brand new AA guns to upgrade everyone's armament, and reference material for repair ships. But… could she not just design her own?"
"She provided the answer to that question in the letter: she simply overlooked the possibility she would require dedicated tugs for her war machine." Chiana waved a hand. "And now that she's about to make her move in the Atlantic, she has no time left to come up with one herself… so she's turning to us."
"Assuming she's being sincere, I don't really blame her," Sunny stayed with a shrug. "You wouldn't think human warships would have much need for tugboats, but… well, Kora's been incredibly helpful around the island. She actually enjoys heavy lifting."
"But this other thing…" Nuri reaches out and pulled the letter closer. "She said she was offering us her incomplete designs for a repair ship class. Maybe… maybe they could show me how to complete my own repair ship."
Ritou blinked. "Ah, right… Mother was a little skeptical of your proposal, wasn't she? Said it was too focused on triage alone, and needed to be equipped to handle smaller damages too."
Nuri nodded. "And after further review, I realized she was right. But I wasn't sure how to tackle the problem without compromising the original design in one way or another. If these notes could fill in the gaps… Mother might approve the Mi-class for production."
Tanith hummed thoughtfully. "Yes… there is a lot being offered here. The question now is… should we go along with it?"
The sisters sat back in their chairs, quietly pondering the decision before them.
XXXXXXXXXX
To Porta Abysseum Atlantia, Sovereign Princess of Abyssinia…
I would like to preface this letter by stating how pleased we are, to learn that more of our kind are setting aside their hatred and choosing to pursue a future hand-in-hand with humanity. We hope that you and your fleet fare well in whatever battles may come, and that your relations with the wider world will be prosperous.
I will not lie, your reaching out to us in such a direct manner had some of my sisters on edge. We do not mean in any way to question or challenge your authenticity—it's simply that, after the events that led to our fleet being scattered across the North Pacific, we have been somewhat wary of contact with unfamiliar fleets. But after speaking with our human allies to corroborate the identity of your messenger and their journey here, among other facts, we feel you can be trusted.
After giving the matter no small amount of thought, my sisters and I have come to a decision—the terms of your offer of trade are more than fair. The blueprints for the Ko-class are a small price to pay for the ability to improve our entire fleet's air defenses; my sister Ritou, who designed the Ko-class personally, simply wishes to know that her designs will be utilized for a good cause. In addition, your notes on a possible class of repair ship will be a great boon to us, as we happen to be carrying out development on the very same idea, under the tentative label of the Mi-class. Should we succeed in finalizing the design of the Mi-class and production goes smoothly, we will look into passing these blueprints to you as well, to aid you in your campaign.
In the meantime, as a gesture of goodwill, we offer you additional gifts: a set of gold gem-studded goblets, an ornate silver jewelry chest, a carved ivory and silver mounted vase, and another dozen kilograms of raw ivory, all recovered from the palace that we now call home.
I hope that this exchange will aid in establishing lasting positive relations between our fleets, such that we can continue to help each other to grow and prosper in the future.
Regards,
Tanith, Northern Water Princess
Ritou huffed. "Yeah, Grandma Nagato did say this princess was old-fashioned, but she's really laying the flowery speech kinda thick."
"To be fair, Medieval times were Ass-Kissing Central," Chiana pointed out. "If rulers weren't peppering their conversations with you with nonstop praise, it was a sign you were about to have a REALLY bad time."
"That aside…" Patty folded her arms. "I never imagined that some new group of Abyssals would go out of their way to contact us like this, let alone to request our help. I mean, if this Princess is preparing to do to the Atlantic what we did to the Pacific, she must be pretty well off in terms of logistics and infrastructure… while us, well, we're kinda on welfare."
"And all that stuff for instructions on how to make a tugboat? It's just bizarre," Ritou continued. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it seems like a fantastic deal. We're getting gold, brand new AA guns to upgrade everyone's armament, and reference material for repair ships. But… could she not just design her own?"
"She provided the answer to that question in the letter: she simply overlooked the possibility she would require dedicated tugs for her war machine." Chiana waved a hand. "And now that she's about to make her move in the Atlantic, she has no time left to come up with one herself… so she's turning to us."
"Assuming she's being sincere, I don't really blame her," Sunny stayed with a shrug. "You wouldn't think human warships would have much need for tugboats, but… well, Kora's been incredibly helpful around the island. She actually enjoys heavy lifting."
"But this other thing…" Nuri reaches out and pulled the letter closer. "She said she was offering us her incomplete designs for a repair ship class. Maybe… maybe they could show me how to complete my own repair ship."
Ritou blinked. "Ah, right… Mother was a little skeptical of your proposal, wasn't she? Said it was too focused on triage alone, and needed to be equipped to handle smaller damages too."
Nuri nodded. "And after further review, I realized she was right. But I wasn't sure how to tackle the problem without compromising the original design in one way or another. If these notes could fill in the gaps… Mother might approve the Mi-class for production."
Tanith hummed thoughtfully. "Yes… there is a lot being offered here. The question now is… should we go along with it?"
The sisters sat back in their chairs, quietly pondering the decision before them.
XXXXXXXXXX
To Porta Abysseum Atlantia, Sovereign Princess of Abyssinia…
I would like to preface this letter by stating how pleased we are, to learn that more of our kind are setting aside their hatred and choosing to pursue a future hand-in-hand with humanity. We hope that you and your fleet fare well in whatever battles may come, and that your relations with the wider world will be prosperous.
I will not lie, your reaching out to us in such a direct manner had some of my sisters on edge. We do not mean in any way to question or challenge your authenticity—it's simply that, after the events that led to our fleet being scattered across the North Pacific, we have been somewhat wary of contact with unfamiliar fleets. But after speaking with our human allies to corroborate the identity of your messenger and their journey here, among other facts, we feel you can be trusted.
After giving the matter no small amount of thought, my sisters and I have come to a decision—the terms of your offer of trade are more than fair. The blueprints for the Ko-class are a small price to pay for the ability to improve our entire fleet's air defenses; my sister Ritou, who designed the Ko-class personally, simply wishes to know that her designs will be utilized for a good cause. In addition, your notes on a possible class of repair ship will be a great boon to us, as we happen to be carrying out development on the very same idea, under the tentative label of the Mi-class. Should we succeed in finalizing the design of the Mi-class and production goes smoothly, we will look into passing these blueprints to you as well, to aid you in your campaign.
In the meantime, as a gesture of goodwill, we offer you additional gifts: a set of gold gem-studded goblets, an ornate silver jewelry chest, a carved ivory and silver mounted vase, and another dozen kilograms of raw ivory, all recovered from the palace that we now call home.
I hope that this exchange will aid in establishing lasting positive relations between our fleets, such that we can continue to help each other to grow and prosper in the future.
Regards,
Tanith, Northern Water Princess
Snippet 4: Harry Leferts
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Inside a darkened room, the only sound that could be heard was the soft breathing of two people in the bed asleep. On a bed stand, a clock ticked away the seconds, minutes, hours. Meanwhile, outside, the horizon slowly brightened as dawn began, the dim light revealing Rose and Haruna in their bed together with soft smiles on their faces. Unlike what many would think though, it was Rose who was spooning Haruna despite the later being bigger than she was.
The tea set was the first of the two to awaken, her nose breathing in the familiar smell of cordite, steel, and the sea. Her lips curled upwards more into a smile as she nuzzled the back of her wife before opening her eyes. Pushing herself up on one arm, Rose looked down at the sleeping Haruna with a fond look on her face in the soft light of the pre-dawn day. Eyes trailing along the Battleship's body, the Tsukumogami etched every feature that she could see into her mind, her memories.
As she did so though, Rose was also softly moving her hand across Haruna's mid-section. Said hand was gently cupping the gentle swell of her wife's baby bump that was there. It was not too large yet, but both women had found themselves often rubbing it, thinking of the new life that was developing. Though they had been surprised that it was apparently another tea set, much to Rose's bemusement. Still, both of them already loved their unborn child.
How long she laid there simply luxuating in the early morning calm, the tea set could not say. But, all to soon to her, she felt Haruna's hand move and place itself over her own. Then Haruna turned her head and smiled up at her, brown eyes still partially lidded from sleep, "Good morning, Rose-Chan."
Lightly smiling, Rose looked down at her and chuckled, "And a good morning to as well, Haruna." The two then shared a soft kiss before pulling apart, Haruna moving enough to lay into her back. Her hand though did not move from its place on top of Rose's, "A very good morning."
Only humming, Haruna looked down at her stomach, bare as Rose's hand had moved her sleeping Yukata enough to expose it. There was not much there, but she could see just the barest signs of a swell. And that was more than enough to send her Boilers warming. Looking up at Rose, their eyes met, happiness in both their faces, "Yes, Haruna thinks that it is another good morning."
Shifting enough so that she was pressed against the shipgirl's side, the tea set hummed before claiming her wife's lips with her own, 'Yes, a very good morning leading to another good day.'
Eventually, the two got out of bed, though nothing had gone beyond gentle touches and soft kisses. After getting up, the two walked into the apartment's kitchen and Rose began to cook breakfast for both Haruna and her sister-in-law. The whole time though, Haruna stood behind her with arms around the smaller, slighter, woman's waist. Hearing a door open, the Tsukumogami turned and smiled, "Good morning, Kongou."
With a light laugh, Kongou leaned against her doorframe, "Good morning, Rose-Chan, Haruna-Chan." Pushing off, she walked over and gave her sister a kiss on the cheek and then did the same with Rose, "And how are we this fine morning?"
Rose shook her head a bit and giggled, "Oh my, we're just fine." Looking over her shoulder, her twinkling eyes met Haruna's, "Are we not, Haruna?"
All Haruna did was kiss the top of her head and nod, "Hai, Rose-Chan. We're doing good."
Lips curling, Kongou bent down and kissed the side of Haruna's abdomen, getting a giggle from her sister, "And a good morning to you as well, Little One." Her expression changed to a slightly mischievous one and her tone turned teasing, "Hopefully your mothers have not kept you awake."
Ignoring the blush on her wife's cheeks, the Tea Set gave Kongou a look, "We do our best not to, but Haruna is simply too much not for me not to keep her awake some. Much like you and Mister Goto, I believe."
Now it was Kongou's turn to blush some, but there was still a smile on her face. Instead though, she walked over to Rose's tea set and poured some of the tea that was already there into a cup, one for her sister-in-law as well. For Haruna, there was a mug filled with hot chocolate. The eldest of the Kongou Sisters then made her way over to the table and sat down, simply watching the two. A soft smile on her face, she sipped her tea quietly as the two cooked breakfast. Inside, her boilers were warmed by the sight and a light sigh escaped her lips at seeing her sister so happy.
One of the best things, she decided, was Haruna and Rose meeting in this new life. The two of them loved each other deeply. Much in the way she described, where their burning love was like a warm hearth, warming those within the home. Kongou was also glad that she had a new younger sister in Rose, said Tsukumogami fit into their family quite well.
Taking another sip, Kongou chuckled slightly, 'And she also makes good tea, that is quite important, Dess.'
When breakfast was done and brought to the table, Haruna softly blushed as Rose pulled out the chair for her, "Thank you, Rose-Chan."
Gently kissing her brow, Rose smiled at her, "You are quite welcome, Haruna."
After she sat down, they began to eat their meal in companionable silence. Once it was done, Kongou patted her lips with a napkin and nodded, "Thank you for the lovely meal, Rose-Chan. It was good as always."
Picking up the plates and utensils, the Tsukumogami smiled some, "Thank you, Kongou. I am glad that you enjoyed it."
With a hum as she sipped another cup of tea, Kongou glanced at Haruna and then back at Rose who was cleaning the dishes before handing them to her wife to dry, "May I ask what your plans for the day may be, Rose-Chan?"
Humming herself as she cleaned a fork in the hot water, Rose tilted her head, "Well, for myself it will be mostly the usual manning the tea shop." A small smile grew on her face as she gave a nod, "With the colder weather, many people want hot drinks. And the Destroyers seem to enjoy the hot apple cider among others."
For a few moments, Kongou considered that before chuckling and shaking her head, "I am not surprised that many of them enjoy hot cider. There is very little that is not better except for a nice cuppa tea."
Just giggling, Rose nodded, "You won't get an argument from me, Kongou."
That got her light laughter from said Battleship as she shook her head, "No, I suppose not." With another sip of her tea, she shook her head, "Though I may drop by later to pick up some baked treats."
Even as Rose nodded, Haruna sighed some, "It is Haruna's turn to patrol Tokyo Bay, so Haruna will not be home until later tonight."
Gently, the tea set took her hand and gave it a squeeze, "That is no trouble at all, Haruna. It is after all your job and duty." Lightly kissing her, Rose pulled back and looked into her eyes with understanding, "I shall await your return with a nice warm cup of hot chocolate."
Placing her hand on her stomach, Haruna nodded, "Hai, after all tea might not be good for Haruna right now." Drying her hands, she then pulled Rose close and kissed her, "And Haruna hopes not to keep Rose-Chan up too late."
Soon after, Kongou stood at the window and watched the two as they left, even though the Sun had barely rose. Both of them walked with their hands clasping the other's. Softly smiling, she shook her head, "Thank you, Rose-Chan, for coming into Haruna-Chan's life."
With that, she pulled away from the window and began to get ready for her own day which was mainly going to be helping Goto with administration of the base as one of his part time Secretary Ships. Something instituted so that he would not need to worry when Nagato or one of the others were on patrol, and so that way he would always have enough to help him with his work. Granted, Kongou had some ideas for things other then work, though she had to get past Ooyodo first...
Elsewhere, a certain "Dragon" frowned and looked around with narrowed eyes.
Reaching the boat launch, Haruna stood there in the early morning light and took a deep breath of the salt tinged air. Letting it out as a large cloud of mist, she smiled some and looked at Rose next to her who was still holding her hand, "Well, it is time for Haruna to leave, Rose-Chan."
Head tilted to the side, Rose only nodded before reaching up and adjusting Haruna's scarf, "Very well, Haruna. Now, hopefully you will enjoy the lunch I packed later. But before you go..." Standing on her tip toes, she pressed her lips to Haruna's with her arms around the Battleship's neck. Meanwhile, the shipgirl's arms went around her waist and held her tight. Both of them stood like that for almost a minute before pulling apart, Rose smiling, "I love you, Haruna."
Simply nodding, Haruna stole another kiss and smiled, "And Haruna loves you as well, Rose-Chan."
With that, the Battleship walked down to the water and summoned her rigging, various grinning and giggling Destroyers around her along with Minase and Otonase. Giving another rig, Haruna set off with her patrol group for the day as Rose stood there, not caring about the chilliness as she watched her wife leave. And the Tsukumogami stood there until Haruna was out of sight, giving a final wave she was sure that Haruna's viewfinders could see before turning and heading towards her tea shop.
Thus another day in Yokosuka, with both women thinking of the other as they went about their jobs.
The tea set was the first of the two to awaken, her nose breathing in the familiar smell of cordite, steel, and the sea. Her lips curled upwards more into a smile as she nuzzled the back of her wife before opening her eyes. Pushing herself up on one arm, Rose looked down at the sleeping Haruna with a fond look on her face in the soft light of the pre-dawn day. Eyes trailing along the Battleship's body, the Tsukumogami etched every feature that she could see into her mind, her memories.
As she did so though, Rose was also softly moving her hand across Haruna's mid-section. Said hand was gently cupping the gentle swell of her wife's baby bump that was there. It was not too large yet, but both women had found themselves often rubbing it, thinking of the new life that was developing. Though they had been surprised that it was apparently another tea set, much to Rose's bemusement. Still, both of them already loved their unborn child.
How long she laid there simply luxuating in the early morning calm, the tea set could not say. But, all to soon to her, she felt Haruna's hand move and place itself over her own. Then Haruna turned her head and smiled up at her, brown eyes still partially lidded from sleep, "Good morning, Rose-Chan."
Lightly smiling, Rose looked down at her and chuckled, "And a good morning to as well, Haruna." The two then shared a soft kiss before pulling apart, Haruna moving enough to lay into her back. Her hand though did not move from its place on top of Rose's, "A very good morning."
Only humming, Haruna looked down at her stomach, bare as Rose's hand had moved her sleeping Yukata enough to expose it. There was not much there, but she could see just the barest signs of a swell. And that was more than enough to send her Boilers warming. Looking up at Rose, their eyes met, happiness in both their faces, "Yes, Haruna thinks that it is another good morning."
Shifting enough so that she was pressed against the shipgirl's side, the tea set hummed before claiming her wife's lips with her own, 'Yes, a very good morning leading to another good day.'
Eventually, the two got out of bed, though nothing had gone beyond gentle touches and soft kisses. After getting up, the two walked into the apartment's kitchen and Rose began to cook breakfast for both Haruna and her sister-in-law. The whole time though, Haruna stood behind her with arms around the smaller, slighter, woman's waist. Hearing a door open, the Tsukumogami turned and smiled, "Good morning, Kongou."
With a light laugh, Kongou leaned against her doorframe, "Good morning, Rose-Chan, Haruna-Chan." Pushing off, she walked over and gave her sister a kiss on the cheek and then did the same with Rose, "And how are we this fine morning?"
Rose shook her head a bit and giggled, "Oh my, we're just fine." Looking over her shoulder, her twinkling eyes met Haruna's, "Are we not, Haruna?"
All Haruna did was kiss the top of her head and nod, "Hai, Rose-Chan. We're doing good."
Lips curling, Kongou bent down and kissed the side of Haruna's abdomen, getting a giggle from her sister, "And a good morning to you as well, Little One." Her expression changed to a slightly mischievous one and her tone turned teasing, "Hopefully your mothers have not kept you awake."
Ignoring the blush on her wife's cheeks, the Tea Set gave Kongou a look, "We do our best not to, but Haruna is simply too much not for me not to keep her awake some. Much like you and Mister Goto, I believe."
Now it was Kongou's turn to blush some, but there was still a smile on her face. Instead though, she walked over to Rose's tea set and poured some of the tea that was already there into a cup, one for her sister-in-law as well. For Haruna, there was a mug filled with hot chocolate. The eldest of the Kongou Sisters then made her way over to the table and sat down, simply watching the two. A soft smile on her face, she sipped her tea quietly as the two cooked breakfast. Inside, her boilers were warmed by the sight and a light sigh escaped her lips at seeing her sister so happy.
One of the best things, she decided, was Haruna and Rose meeting in this new life. The two of them loved each other deeply. Much in the way she described, where their burning love was like a warm hearth, warming those within the home. Kongou was also glad that she had a new younger sister in Rose, said Tsukumogami fit into their family quite well.
Taking another sip, Kongou chuckled slightly, 'And she also makes good tea, that is quite important, Dess.'
When breakfast was done and brought to the table, Haruna softly blushed as Rose pulled out the chair for her, "Thank you, Rose-Chan."
Gently kissing her brow, Rose smiled at her, "You are quite welcome, Haruna."
After she sat down, they began to eat their meal in companionable silence. Once it was done, Kongou patted her lips with a napkin and nodded, "Thank you for the lovely meal, Rose-Chan. It was good as always."
Picking up the plates and utensils, the Tsukumogami smiled some, "Thank you, Kongou. I am glad that you enjoyed it."
With a hum as she sipped another cup of tea, Kongou glanced at Haruna and then back at Rose who was cleaning the dishes before handing them to her wife to dry, "May I ask what your plans for the day may be, Rose-Chan?"
Humming herself as she cleaned a fork in the hot water, Rose tilted her head, "Well, for myself it will be mostly the usual manning the tea shop." A small smile grew on her face as she gave a nod, "With the colder weather, many people want hot drinks. And the Destroyers seem to enjoy the hot apple cider among others."
For a few moments, Kongou considered that before chuckling and shaking her head, "I am not surprised that many of them enjoy hot cider. There is very little that is not better except for a nice cuppa tea."
Just giggling, Rose nodded, "You won't get an argument from me, Kongou."
That got her light laughter from said Battleship as she shook her head, "No, I suppose not." With another sip of her tea, she shook her head, "Though I may drop by later to pick up some baked treats."
Even as Rose nodded, Haruna sighed some, "It is Haruna's turn to patrol Tokyo Bay, so Haruna will not be home until later tonight."
Gently, the tea set took her hand and gave it a squeeze, "That is no trouble at all, Haruna. It is after all your job and duty." Lightly kissing her, Rose pulled back and looked into her eyes with understanding, "I shall await your return with a nice warm cup of hot chocolate."
Placing her hand on her stomach, Haruna nodded, "Hai, after all tea might not be good for Haruna right now." Drying her hands, she then pulled Rose close and kissed her, "And Haruna hopes not to keep Rose-Chan up too late."
Soon after, Kongou stood at the window and watched the two as they left, even though the Sun had barely rose. Both of them walked with their hands clasping the other's. Softly smiling, she shook her head, "Thank you, Rose-Chan, for coming into Haruna-Chan's life."
With that, she pulled away from the window and began to get ready for her own day which was mainly going to be helping Goto with administration of the base as one of his part time Secretary Ships. Something instituted so that he would not need to worry when Nagato or one of the others were on patrol, and so that way he would always have enough to help him with his work. Granted, Kongou had some ideas for things other then work, though she had to get past Ooyodo first...
Elsewhere, a certain "Dragon" frowned and looked around with narrowed eyes.
Reaching the boat launch, Haruna stood there in the early morning light and took a deep breath of the salt tinged air. Letting it out as a large cloud of mist, she smiled some and looked at Rose next to her who was still holding her hand, "Well, it is time for Haruna to leave, Rose-Chan."
Head tilted to the side, Rose only nodded before reaching up and adjusting Haruna's scarf, "Very well, Haruna. Now, hopefully you will enjoy the lunch I packed later. But before you go..." Standing on her tip toes, she pressed her lips to Haruna's with her arms around the Battleship's neck. Meanwhile, the shipgirl's arms went around her waist and held her tight. Both of them stood like that for almost a minute before pulling apart, Rose smiling, "I love you, Haruna."
Simply nodding, Haruna stole another kiss and smiled, "And Haruna loves you as well, Rose-Chan."
With that, the Battleship walked down to the water and summoned her rigging, various grinning and giggling Destroyers around her along with Minase and Otonase. Giving another rig, Haruna set off with her patrol group for the day as Rose stood there, not caring about the chilliness as she watched her wife leave. And the Tsukumogami stood there until Haruna was out of sight, giving a final wave she was sure that Haruna's viewfinders could see before turning and heading towards her tea shop.
Thus another day in Yokosuka, with both women thinking of the other as they went about their jobs.
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