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Kant-O-Celle Quest [a Kantai Collection game, transcribed from 4chan]

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To hell with Hornet. I want her sister to show up. We need carriers, and one equipped for night fighting is gonna be invaluable. Plus Akagi and Kaga's reactions.
 
Yorktown and Lexington would be an nice duo to have. Both are veterans, lead ships, and managed to get a room at Davy Jones' Locker early on.

Hmm, Saratoga and Big E make for a natural couple too. This leaves Hornet as the only one without a Lexington though... :p
 
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Session #41 pt.1
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    • TWITTER: twitter.com/planefriend
    ARCHIVES: sup/tg/ - Archive

    You herd the still-sniffling Willie into the bathroom long enough to get properly dressed, then rotate places to shave as quickly as you dare. You emerge to find Willie sitting on your unmade bed, swinging her feet nervously and staring at the floor. You finish wiping your face dry.

    "Willie?"

    "WHAT!?" she says, flinching as if you're poised to strike, her attention snapping to you apprehensively.

    "Going to tell me what all this 'scared of me' business is?"

    She looks down at the floor and scuffs the carpet with her shoes. "Uhh..."

    You wait patiently, using the damp towel to wipe the dust off your working khaki cap - it's been a while since you've worn it. Haven't worn it since before LA, in fact. You've got two pair of dress whites, but you're pretty much introduced to the base, now, and nobody in their right mind wants to wear that goddamned monkey suit every day.


    USN working khakis.​

    "They were talking about, uh. there was a fight and youkindofswordedpeopleand-" Willie's frightened voice diminishes into an unintelligible murmur.

    "There was a fight, yeah," you verify, limping into the kitchen and taking out your painkillers. The heavy opiate-based shit tends to dull your mind, but with the new gash on your leg and the exertion placed on your wounded thigh last night, you need it. To say nothing of the damn hangover. Naka really did a number on you, in more ways than one. You pop half the recommended dose - just to take the edge off. "So what of it, Willie?"

    "You were... scary."

    "What, is Sendai telling tall tales?"

    "It's the video-"

    You hear Willie flailflop off the other side of the bed when your water glass clatters against the countertop. Sticking your head out of the kitchenette you find her folded in two and quite stuck between the bed and wall.

    "What did you just say?"

    Willie's butt just sinks deeper into the crevice as she whimpers fearfully.

    [ ] Start calling people till you find out what the hell is going on.
    [ ] Head right for the office - there's going to be hell to pay following everything that happened last night.
    [ ] Let the goddamn PR people do their jobs for once - straight to work. You've got botes to supervise.


    Naka... is a little out of sorts. (art by Pixel-anon)​

    [X] Start calling people till you find out what the hell is going on.

    Pulling your smartphone off its charger (you're amazed you thought to plug it in before crashing, all things told,) you tap the screen shortcut for Naka's number. The phone rings and rings and rings till she finally picks up. "Good morning, Admiral Settle~"

    "Uh, good morning, Naka," you say awkwardly. Her tone is a little too bright, considering what passed between you last night. "Uh, you been to breakfast yet-"

    "No."

    "Oh, damn." You sigh. "Guess I'll head to mess and dive into the scuttlebutt myself, then-"

    "Settle."

    "Yeah?"

    Naka's voice falters and fades. "I..." you hear her take a small, unsteady breath. "I would like to formally tender my resignation," she says, her voice so soft you can barely hear it - and then she hangs up.

    Your hand drops to your side, squeezing the smartphone till the case starts to flex, a fresh pressure building in your head. It feels like a mental scream, no sense or substance, just a raw upwelling of frustration.

    [ ] Head to mess. Get some goddamn breakfast, read the atmosphere, maybe find Hate.
    [ ] The shipgirl dorms aren't far from here - go ask Jintsuu to check in on Naka. Naka's probably self-conscious after spilling her guts to you, is all.
    [ ] Looks like you slept in. Head right to work - the destroyers are supposed to be doing land and sea exercises today, according to your schedule.


    [X] Head to mess. Get some goddamn breakfast, read the atmosphere, maybe find Hate.

    The feeling sticks with you into the bright summer morning, Willie keeping close behind you as she rubs blood circulation back into her rear end. You're leaning on the cane more than usual today; but the pain is keeping your mind sharp and cutting away last night's cobwebs quickly. So many things happened yesterday that you don't know where to begin unraveling them, so you apply the old sailor's maxim - more chow is never bad.

    Willie crowds you so closely that she's stepping on your heels by the time you enter the O-Club - you note the door guard has become door guards, and they're both carrying M-4s with bulkier-looking magazines on their plate carriers than you remember, complete with underslung M-203s and what seem to be laser designators under the muzzle. You return your polite salute as you cross the threshold.

    The building is busy as usual, and packed full of late-risers, which seems to include Ise and Hyuuga, as well as most of the Japanese cruisers. Hayashimo is trying to disappear into a corner as the two green-glad CAs try to coax her into some oatmeal. She's still on the mend, but it looks like the attention is vexing her more than her injuries.

    You're halfway to the breakfast bar when you hear Willie squeak and run into your back, hiding her face in your shirt as she wraps her arms around your middle. You stop, startled, and half-turn before realizing that the entire room has gone silent.

    Everyone, human and shipgirl alike are staring at you quietly.

    [ ] Walk over to the most apprehensive-looking one and just... loom.
    [ ] Look around for whatever it is that's caught their attention.
    [ ] Fuck this shit, take Willie to a real goddamn restaurant.


    [X] Look around for whatever it is that's caught their attention.

    You fixate on the closest set of stares and turn, bewildered, looking for the source. As you find more people to the side, you follow their stares, till you've turned in a complete circle. Having surveyed the room completely, you come to a halt, totally bewildered.

    "What is he looking for, Hyuuga?" Ise asks, her bright voice seeming to echo across the conspicuously silent room.

    Hyuuga sighs. "First Kitakami, now the Admiral," she says in a soft voice that everyone can hear clearly. "Admiral~" she calls out, louder. "Willie Dee is right behind you!"

    You twist 'round to find Willie, who's been clinging to your back throughout the maneuver. "Oh, so she is." You glance around the room suspiciously before patting her on the back. "It's okay. I'm sure Hate will break something more expensive by noon, and then *he'll* be famous."

    With the tension broken, voices start to murmur again and you're able to reach the buffet bar and load your plate up. You query Willie for preferences and load her tray according to her tentative, almost inaudible replies, then pick out a table - incidentally, the nearest one seems to just clear out for you. Willie accepts her tray and starts eating very, very quietly.


    Based on your reception, you really, *really* need to find out what the hell this "video" is about. Unless Sendai recorded something shakey on her cameraphone that made you look like SettleSquach, you can't figure what's got them all so... weird.

    On to other concerns, then. "So, Willie?"

    "Ahp!?" she says, choking halfway through her milk.

    "How've you been doing this past week?"

    She seems to shrink in her chair - she's already small enough to need a booster seat, and now she can barely look at you over her scrambled eggs. "Umkay."

    "So how's your training been?"

    "Naka... is nice," Willie allows. "She... never gets angry with me. Even when I shot her."

    "You what!?"

    That was a mistake - Willie vanishes under the table, only her slightly-vibrating hat still visible. "I d-d-didn't m-m-mean t-to!"

    "Just a training round, right?"

    She sniffs. "Yes..."

    "And what about Sammy?"

    The hat starts vibrating faster. "U-uh s-sh-she's s-s-s-cary-"

    "Has she been helping you?"

    "S-she said sh-she was g-g-gonna g-g-g-rape me if I d-d-didn't s-s-stop her, and, uh, she, uh-"

    You fold your hands together and give Willie's hat a dark glare over your knuckles. "Grape?"

    "L-like c-c-ram me into a b-b-arrel and s-mash m-me up, uh, I think...? It sounds b-b-b-baaaaad!"

    You really, *really* have to chat with Hate about this bullshit. "So what happened?"


    "She c-c-chased me i-into a corner and k-kept coming really slow, and I missed I missed *every shot* till she was RIGHT THERE and the laughing the laughing was so ah no no nonononononono-"

    "Willie, focus."

    "And I s-s-shot her-!"

    "... and?"

    "She laughed more and s-s-aid I just had to g-g-et c-closer, w-was all," Willie replies, her eyes visible over the eggs again.

    "Well... I guess that does sound like Sammy," you allow.

    "Do I h-have t-to keep training with her?" Willie says miserably. "She's so *scary...*"

    "She was just trying to show you what you can do," you offer weakly. "I mean, she's scarier than an abyssal, so if you can hit her at close range-"

    Willie shakes her head, braid whipping around as her eyes tear up. "I d-don't want to b-b-e like her."

    "What? Why not?"

    "W-when she c-climbed on tt-t-top of that A-a-abyssal and s-s-started... *hitting...*" Willie sinks out of sight again. "S-she... she was..."

    [ ] ... is that what I looked like last night, Willie? Like Sammy?
    [ ] You should've seen what you looked like, Willie. When they came after Hornet, you swatted them down like nobody's business.
    [ ] Why don't you want to be like that, Willie? What's so bad about it?


    [X] You should've seen what you looked like, Willie. When they came after Hornet, you swatted them down like nobody's business.

    "I saw that battle from the top down," you remind her. "While you were watching Sammy, I was watching you."

    Willie's hat is jittering so hard you're afraid it'll part company with her head. "I-I-I-I-"

    "You did pretty damn good, Willie."

    "Iwut-!?"

    "Yeah." You grin. "Willie, close range is when most people lose their nerve in a fight. Destroyers pretty much have to fight at close range - you carry torpedoes to give you a standoff weapon to avoid that, but if you want guaranteed hits you've got to close to six, seven thousand yards maximum, and that's damn near suicide against cruisers in the daytime."

    You see Willie's head nod slightly - she knows this, of course.

    "So you see someone closing to point-blank range deliberately, despite having a longer-ranged weapon, well, you know they're out to put blood on the walls. And that usually scares people. That's when Captains turn away and shadow half their guns, long before they could've launched torpedoes. That's when people panic and make mistakes that cost them the battle. And that's half the reason the aggressive ones charge, like Sammy did. But when you're backed into a corner and death is almost upon you, suddenly, you just can't miss."


    Willie surfaces once more, pulling her hat down onto her head with both band-aided hands. "... r-really?"

    "Didn't you watch the video of yourself?"

    She shakes her head.

    "When those torpedo bombers had their last go at Hornet, you really clobbered the hell out of 'em. Now, were you scared for your own life?"

    She nods vigorously, and you feel your mouth quirk.

    "Well, uh, were you *more* worried about Hornet?"

    "Y-yes," Willie said. "B-because s-she w-w-as s-stuck w-w-with me..."

    "Well, that explains it," you say. "They were going after your carrier - so you protected her. Some destroyers are natural hunters, and others are natural escorts. Looks like you're an escort."

    Willie seems to steady a little. "I-is t-t-hat g-g-ood?"


    "Very," you say, smiling at her. "It means you care about other people, deeply. So deep that when they're in danger you can't not protect them, no matter how scared you are."

    Wille's eyes begin to tear up as her mouth goes wiggly. "B-b-bb-ut-"

    "No buts!" you insist. "You proved yourself in that fight, kid. Time to give yourself some credit."

    Willie sniffles, staring at you a bit, then slides out of her chair and carefully walks around the round table. She closes her eyes and barrels over the last few feet in a rush to bury her face in your shirt, hugging you tightly. You ruffle her hair affectionately (she lost her hat in the mad dash) till she calms down a bit. Looking up, you find the entire room staring at you and give them all a look so nasty that some actually look away. Chikuma and Tone are looking at their plates abashedly, but Hayashimo's one visible eye is fixated on you with disconcerting intensity, her pale complexion slightly flushed. Willie's tiny frame stiffens as she hears the hush - whatever else her failings, she can read the atmosphere pretty well. You feel a flash of anger heating your blood, and draw in breath for a sharp rebuke -

    - when Lt. Hate walks through the door.

    And he is completely, totally covered in spiders.

    Within half a second you and Willie have effectively ceased to exist as everyone watches Hate stroll up to the breakfast bar, a veritable army of small spiders swarming up and down his uniform. He serves himself, takes the carafe right out of the coffee pot and carries it all to your table, carefully brushing a few spiders off his ass before plopping down to your left.

    "Skipper," he says amicably, saluting with his carafe before sipping from it.


    "AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-" Willie screams as one of the liberated arachnids crawls under the table and towards her shoes. She scrambles into your lap before you can protest, her arms wrapped around your neck for protection.

    "Oh, sorry about that," Hate says. "Didn't think of the destroyers." He begins brushing the spiders off gently with his butterknife, which just causes a swarm of little arachnids to start diffusing through the room. You hear tables and chairs scraping as the weaker-willed shipgirls bug out, so to speak, as you princess-carry a shivering Willie a few feet clear of the table.

    [ ] "...You are covered in spiders.
    [ ] "...You actually apologized to me."
    [ ] "... So why the hell is everyone staring at me today?"

    43342528 (demetrious) -
    >>43342478 →
    NEW THREAD
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    43341816 (Bentus The Great Harbour Ship) -
    >>43341380
    I LIVE. I DIE. I LIVE AGAIN.

    43341834 -
    >>43341816 (Bentus The Great Harbour Ship)
    stop getting recycled into spare parts at a ship graveyard then.

    43341850 (Bentus The Great Harbour Ship) -
    >>43341834
    ... Okay, I wasn't even RPing, I was quoting Mad Max.

    43341869 -
    >>43341850 (Bentus The Great Harbour Ship)
    As long as you keep the name on, people are going to assume you're RPing.

    43341886 -
    >>43341869
    Fuck off, he can RP if he wants to.
    At least he's GOOD at it.

    43341898 -
    >>43341886
    Not saying he shouldn't RP, just saying that people will assume that, if he has the name on, he'll be RPing. It's how it works for the other RPing tripfags in this thread.

    43342081 (Death by Chains) -
    >>43341929
    >That's because the other RPing tripfags are all characters in this quest
    Point of order: the only thing I'm RPing as is 'the guy transcribing this quest to other sites for the people whose IT departments block them from reaching 4chan'.

    43342107 -
    >>43342081 (Death by Chains)
    That's not really RPing, it's just something to make you easier to identify to those who have comments or questions regarding your transcriptions.

    43342128 -
    >>43342081 (Death by Chains)
    [Dude] you aren't RP'ing, you're using the feature for what it's intended for: giving someone who has a role or function that requires a psuedo-identity a way to maintain that.
    The other [guy] on the other hand, is.

    43341930 -
    Why has everybody not filtered Bentus yet? The thread is so much nicer without his cancer.

    43341972 -
    >>43341930
    Bentus is alright. The problem are the salty people that charge against him every single thread.

    43342001 (demetrious) -
    >>43341972
    this

    43342020 -
    >>43341930
    I haven't filtered him because he's been around for so damn long he's almost become an integral part of these threads. Seriously, nobody really complained much until recently. Hell, even planefriend said he was fine.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Session #41 pt.2
  • Threadmarks

    • [X] "...You are covered in spiders.

    "... you are covered in spiders," you say dully.

    Hate shrugs as he shovels down breakfast. "Yuh, so?"

    "You... are covered... in spiders," you repeat again.

    "Yeah. I'm walking down the sidewalk, right, and Jintsuu comes walking up to me with this big smile on her face. And she's got a bucket. And she raises it, and dumps it on my head, and instead of water, what comes out is-"

    "Spiders."

    "Thousands of 'em!" Hate confirms, and digs in with another forkful.

    "And... this doesn't bother you."

    "Why would it?" Hate asks. "It's fucking great. People see you coming, they just clear out. One female ensign damn near jumped into traffic when I passed her." He chuckles and continues eating.

    "That's it?"

    "Yup," Hate confirms. "Jintsuu threw spiders on me. She looked a little disappointed when I didn't scream, though."

    "Uh huh," you say, sitting down to finish your own breakfast. Willie regains her feet, but clings to your free arm as you eat slowly - it's a lot less awkward with most of the shipgirls crowding the exits.

    "You see the shit those guys at the door are packing?" Hate asks.

    "Full plate carriers and carbines, yeah."

    "Dude. They're chambered for .50 Beowulf."

    "Wow," you say flatly. "That sounds awesome."

    "You're a philistine motherfucker, you know that?"

    "Wow," you repeat. "Philistine. That's a big word for a Marine."

    "Supercalifragalisticexpialofuckyou," Hate retorts smoothy between gulps of coffee.


    "Speaking of your mastery of language," you intone, "Willie here told me about how Sammy was threatening to grape her the other day."

    "Grape?" Hate frowns. "That's terrible. Shit never comes out of your uniform."

    You squint at Hate and shake your head.

    "What? That didn't come from me. She must've heard it from those filthy fuckers on XBox live."

    You squint harder.

    "Okay, okay, I'll teach her to swear properly. No more barely-cloaked euphemisms."

    "Wow," you say flatly. "Euphemisms. That's-"

    Hate flips you off as he tries to laugh without losing his mouthful of scrambled eggs. "So, how do you like your new toy, asshole?"

    You pluck your cane off the table's edge and hold it up. "So... how do you open this thing up, exactly?"

    Hate blinks. "You didn't know?"

    "Kind of came apart while we were fighting."

    Hate chuckles. "Figures. You're a lucky son of a bitch. Twist it hard to the right and pull - also hard. The latch is pretty good."


    You twist and pull experimentally and the blade is unsheathed halfway with a suitably dramatic "SWHWING" of steel-on-steel, just like historical swords never did because their sheaths were leather. The blade's lower portion is still coated with blood. You sheath it again swiftly, feeling the latch "click" as it turns the hilt in your hands to re-engage.

    "Oops," you say quietly, then lurch sideways to catch Willie, who's fainted dead away. "Oop!

    "Jesus. Christ. On a pogo stick," Hate observes flatly, shaking his head at you over his carafe. "You really are a piece of goddamn work." He takes another gulp, and you marvel at his iron esophagus as his mouth steams after the draught.

    "That seems to be everyone else's opinion, too," you mutter. "Willie said there's a video of the fight going around."

    "Already? The hell did that come from?"

    "I don't kn-"

    "Not talking to you," Hate says, leaning over the table to pat Willie's face. "Willie. Hey, Willie Dee. Wake up. Wake up, dammit!" He sticks his fingers in his mouth and does a very, very loud whistle, even managing to make it sound like the bosun's whistle to general quarters with the rising and falling pitch. Willie merely murmurs and rolls her head onto your shoulder, clinging to your arm even tighter.

    "You'll have plenty of time to watch it later," you grouse. "For now, I wanted to say thank you."

    "For what?"

    You nod at the cane. "For saving my life."

    "Would've bought you a rape whistle and one of those pink pepper spray things if I knew you'd be fucking dumb enough to fight anyone," Hate returns levelly. "The whole thing's a goddamn joke, swords are archaic and useless in the modern era just like old bitchy men like you."

    In the corner of the room you see Hayashimo's one eye brighten, her intense, eager stare even hungrier.

    Yeah. Time to blow this fucking joint.

    [ ] Office. Paperwork time.
    [ ] Visit the destroyer's training.

    43342565 -
    >>43342517
    [X] Office. Paperwork time.
    Also find like a sink and some oil or something to clean our sword before shit gets all fucked up by the blood.

    43342640 (Death by Chains) -
    >>43342565
    >[X] Office. Paperwork time.
    The job ain't gonna do itself.
    >Also find like a sink and some oil or something to clean our sword before shit gets all fucked up by the blood.
    A splendid idea. Never know when we might need the thing again.

    43342673 (Bentus the Great Harbour Ship) -
    >>43342517
    ... Well, I suppose we best be getting to the paperwork before it gains sentience.
    >[x] Office. Paperwork time.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    43342665 -
    >>43342309 →
    Something I've always been wondering as a guy who doesn't know all that much about WWII:
    How is it that the Japanese Empire kept making and building poorly designed military hardware that reeked of flaws? Kaga couldn't vent its heat properly. The Nambu pistol was a pile of shit. Japanese carrier design ended up having the worst of both American and British designs (squishy carriers with less efficient damage control).
    What gives? Were Japanese engineers and scientists just bad? Were they trained poorly?

    43342734 (Ghostdivision) -
    >>43342665
    the short answer is because they were incredibly smart dumb people. The long answer could eat up a book.

    43342768 -
    >>43342665
    A thousand men could write a million books and maybe cut halfway to the heart of the answer

    43342796 (Death by Chains) -
    >>43342665
    Let's put it this way. IIRC, when designing a particular machine-gun (I want to say it was the 'woodpecker' MMG), Nambu et. al. studied the action of a foreign make of MG, one well-known for its reliability and good rate-of-fire... then deliberately designed *OUT* the portion of the extraction cycle that made it so reliable and fast-firing.
    So, yeah. Some of Imperial Japan's engineers were pretty much fail all the way down.

    43342847 -
    >>43342796 (Death by Chains)
    Japan had two LMGs - The old one that was fed by rifle clips in a hopper, and the new one that was a Bren with all the good bits ripped out and a bayonet fixed.

    43342880 (demetrious) -
    >>43342847
    >The old one that was fed by rifle clips in a hopper
    why did you fucking remind me that this existed

    43342884 -
    >>43342796 (Death by Chains) -
    How...how did this happen? Did Nambu study the western MMG and then just completely fail to understand how it worked?
    Maybe it's because we modern folks have the benefit of hindsight while the Imperial Japanese had to make decisions without the benefit of said hindsight, but I keep getting the impression that the people who designed most of Japan's equipment were pants on head retarded at times. I'm well aware that Japan had a huge disadvantage in resources and resource quality (see: pulling around Zeros with oxcarts), but how do you end up designing such a shit gun or shit carrier?

    43342895 (Ghostdivision) -
    [...]
    Honestly? I don't think there is any one book that really gets into it, at least not helps paint a comprehensive theory, which is what I've been working at.
    Basically, Personally, I think it's a combination of how their culture was shaped for a bazillion years, their relative lack of resources, cherry-picking, and a healthy dose of master race complex. If I could suggest any three books, they'd be Kaigun, which is incredibly dry but covers the IJN's rise and fall- that is, from around 1900 or so to 1945, Shattered sword, about Midway, and Samurai Revolution, which kinda digs into that whole Samurai mindset and mythology.
    But there's a whole lot of reading you'd need to do to really get at it beyond an incredibly simple single answer.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    [X] Office. Paperwork time.

    You bid Hate farewell and make for the office. As much as you'd like to watch DesDiv 6 run from Sammy's mad, diabolical laughter like a school of fish fleeing a tiger shark, you know there will be hell to pay after last night - it's time to pay the piper. Willie is clinging to your arm so hard that you don't even try to send her off to practice - it sounds like Sammy gave her enough excitement for a while.

    Besides, after the look Hayashimo gave you, you're in the mood for some... uh, escort.

    Your office is still the same box-cluttered mess it was yesterday - soon you need to unpack and properly move in. You plop down in your chair and find your inbox full of inquiries from pretty much everyone, but the e-mail from Admiral Thomas catches your attention first. As far as you're concerned, Admiral Thomas is God, (and SecNav is the PR manager who hired him.) God gets top billing. You double-click on it to find a very simple message.

    "Received report about last night's scuffle. AAR in my inbox by 0800.

    Yesterday."

    He didn't bother signing it. You wince, and open up the word processor.


    Thirty minutes later you're just going over the email one last time before hitting "send" when something rattles at the door. You find Willie entering, very, very gingerly pushing a small cart with an insulated coffee carafe on it. You give her credit for smart thinking; her luck doesn't seem to gell with anything less stable.

    "H-here," Willie says, pushing it close enough that you can serve yourself. She returns to her station sitting on a box near you, where she tries to turn invisible.

    "Something wrong, Willie?"

    She shakes her head.

    "Any reason you're hanging out with me today? Not that I mind, of course."

    She shakes her head.

    "Well, stick around then. Naka's... out sick today. You can be my secretary."

    Willie looks stricken. "I uh, I d-d-on't know how to type-"

    "Ha!" you reply. "I just need someone to help me unpack, today." You lever out of your chair with a groan - your legs are killing you all over again, but the edge is preferable to the dull ache that drags your mind away from the sterile emails on your monitor. "God knows I've got enough shelves, I just need to get the books up there."

    Willie helps you open up box after box of books, sliding them onto the shelves according to rough category - naval battles of the Civil War, a book or three on Salamis, and even a treatise on the CSS Hunley. You follow after her and adjust their positioning a bit, grouping by author or time period as your eclectic preferences dictate.

    You're halfway through when someone raps at the door even as they open it. "Sup Skipper?"

    "Harder? Don't just stand there, come on in."

    "I already am in."

    "That's my point, dinkwaffle."


    Harder snorts. He takes a small stack of books from under his arm and hands them back to you. "Came to return these."

    "Man, you read fast," you comment, sorting through the returned paperbacks.

    "Not really, Skip. They're kids books."

    "Mmmhmm," you say, taking 'Mouse and the Motorcycle' and setting it on top of a bookshelf for safekeeping - and well out of sight, too. "Still good, though."

    "True..." Harder pauses before handing you the last one back - a fantasy anthology. "Do you remember this one?"

    You look at it blankly. "Can't say I do."

    "... Bear at the Ga-"

    "Oh, with Henry!?" Harder nods, his face serious. "Yeah. The only reason I saved it at all."

    "Yeah. I can understand that," Harder says quietly. "But... why did you save the rest of it?"

    You shrug. "Loved those books more than life itself when I was a kid. Stories like that one about the teddy bear really shaped me, in some ways. Taught me things, you know? Things grown men can spend years trying to learn. Always thought I'd have kids of my own to hand them down to."

    Harder looks a bit embarrassed. "Oh."

    You smirk at him. "Guess I did, at that."

    "Eat shit and die in a fire made of salt-encrusted razor wire."

    "... a fire?"

    "Don't gimme that shit, nobody bats a thousand!"

    Your mild reparte is interrupted by the sound of squeaky wheels going weekiweeekiweekiweeki down the hall at an accelerating pace. You and Harder glance at each other, but you leap for the door as one man when the battle cry comes floating down the hall-

    "TEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATIME TEEEEEIIIIIITOOOOOKUUUUUUUU!"

    43343620 -
    >>43343555
    >AAR
    What is this?

    43343634 (demetrious) -
    THAT'S IT FOR TODAY BECAUSE IT'S 12PM AND I'M TIRED AND SHIT! Standby for more writeups, including one from one of THP's primer writefags, returned to the /t/ouhou/g/ames board of his forefathers to shitpost in harmony with us!
    >>43343620
    "After Action Report."

    43343674 (Death by Chains) -
    >>43343620
    After-Action Report. AKA "WTF happened? Who did what, when, how, and why? IN MAXIMUM POSSIBLE DETAIL for best understanding of how to make sure nothing goes this wrong EVER AGAIN."
    Click to expand...
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    43345619 -
    >Have a brain hemorrhage and subsequent surgery
    >Report for duty the next day, in command for the Bonin Islands
    >Kill two men while drunk with a sword
    >Stroll into the mess the next day, converse calmly with a marine covered in spiders
    There are gonna be so many strange anecdotes about Settle in the books about this war.

    43345958 -
    >>43345619
    Yeah, Settle is going to be a legend in the Navy for decades, if not a century or two.
    Assuming Humanity doesn't get graped to death by Abyssals
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  • Threadmarks
    • One of these days, @Trace Coburn , we'll have to rename this thread to "Kant-o-Celle Quest: Director's Cut (With 100% less Bitching and 100% more Supplementary Material)".

    Thank you for your hard work so far. :D
     
    Last edited:
    Trace Coburn said:
    Shimakaze smiled back, seemingly satisfied. "Great. I'll get you one of my outfits. We can race... tomorrow, say?"

    Seven of those words pounded into Willie's brain, striking her numb. "What."

    "Yeah, I have obligations today," Shimakaze said apologetically, "Tomorrow would be better-"

    "One of your outfits?!" Willie all but shrieked.

    "Yeah, they'll make you go faster, like me," the Japanese destroyer said, oblivious to Willie's sudden discomfort. "Every drop of speed helps, you know?"

    "I DON'T WANNA WEAR ONE OF THOSE OUTFITS!!!" the American destroyer wailed, hiding her face behind her hands.
    Click to expand...
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    Fanart of Willie in that Playboy Bunny outfit would be hilarious.
     
    Dirtnap said:
    Nah. LSC doesn't drop Naka. LSC drops Maruyu. Who is...well maruyu. Now, if I had a dime for every Naka I got with a BB recipe for normal construction? yeah. I'd be a pretty rich dude.
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    <- Has only ever gotten two Naka in his playthrough. And that's after getting to 2-3, then proceeding to grind around World 1 for a week to finally get the first one. To put it into my perspective - at that point I've gotten Fusou, Yamashiro, Ise, Hyuuga, Hiei, and Haruna. I actually got Jintsuu a whole load more - she's actually the one I got the most.

    I still don't get how my luck works in this game, but eh, it makes for a pretty interesting story so why not.
     
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