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Northern Light (Worm/Misc Shipgirl)

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Shakedown 1.8
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    • Sabaton said:
    We remember the sea,
    Where our ships broke the waves;
    We remember our brothers in arms.
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    Off Cape Cod
    28 Aug 10, 0337 Lima

    Oh-dark-thirty off the eastern seaboard really needs another name. As I cruised south, to my right side was a massive wall of light that stretched from the Gulf of Saint Lawrence to the Caribbean. To my left, the sort of stygian darkness very few modern humans would ever know. The kind of abyssal black that would drive a pack of glorified chimpanzees on the African savanah to poke at lightning-ignited trees until they figured out this whole 'fire' nonsense.

    I was, after a very long month, finally running with a full load. And not just containment foam and smoke, but actual war shots. A small but comforting number of armor-piercing ballistic-capped shells that could punch through the armor of anything afloat today. They just don't build them like they used to; and the thousands of tons of steel carried by the Big Seven and their wartime sisters was meaningless in the face of modern weapons. It made me laugh to think I had the same sort of armor protection as a 'heavy cruiser' these days.

    Loading had taken far too long. Everything had to be counted twice, signed for thrice, logged in the magazine records, recorded in my own log, cross-checked and witnessed. I half expected the armory officer to snap on a rubber glove to make sure I wasn't smuggling out an extra shell or two. By the time I cleared the bay and turned south, it was well past sunset.

    Open water gave me a chance to work the rust off parts that I just couldn't use in the city. My navigation radar showed me the coastline and the endless trundle of the massive container ships and tankers that allowed the States to keep functioning even in the age of Leviathan. I could slow and hear the shipping lanes of Boston Harbor to the north on my hydrophones. I even streamed my Foxer decoys briefly, just to make sure their winches hadn't seized; the first-generation towed acoustic decoys still making enough racket to drown out my own sonar. It was peaceful to just cruise along, listening to the guard frequencies and looking up at the stars. In another, better world, perhaps I'd have had more time for this.

    The shoot-ex wasn't scheduled to start until 10 am; mostly because the PRT didn't want to wake people up even accidentally on a Saturday morning. It gave me plenty of time to make my way south; I wasn't about to ride in a chopper when I had a perfectly legitimate reason to sail. Monomoy was basically an overgrown sandbar. A mudflat with pretensions. Any chart was going to be somewhat out of date; and I had argued, successfully, that getting good soundings of the area was important if I was going to be doing any close-to-shore maneuvering. The fact that it gave me a chance to stargaze was just a bonus.

    It took me a little over an hour to get the up-to-date bottom contour data I wanted. With time to kill, I ambled ashore and sat down against the butt of the lighthouse to watch the dance of the heavens.

    ^v^V^v^​
    Monomoy Island Lighthouse
    0603 Lima

    Velocity could move incredibly quietly when he wanted to, I learned as he edged into my field of view. Very slowly, I lifted one arm to make a shushing gesture; and he just as deliberately raised his hand to the side of his visor and tapped the control to snap a still image. That, naturally, played the same 'shutter' sound effect as a smartphone would and woke the now very startled gull that had joined me for some stargazing and subsequently fallen asleep on my head.

    "That's going on PHO."

    "Gee, thanks." I glared at the chuckling speedester and stood up, dusting myself off. "You know, it's times like this that make me feel sorry. Some people's names become associated with important research; or emblematic of entire power categories. The Manton Effect, the Alexandria Package. Then you get a poor Thinker whos' only documented power is a complete lack of sleep..."

    Velocity grinned and nodded. "Noctis, the only Thinker 0. If it hadn't been for an fMRI confirming it, no one would believe she was parahuman. Anyways; I was in The Corps before I joined the Protectorate; so for my sins, I've been assigned to remember a five minute familiarization class from years ago-" He cut off as I pulled out my tablet and offered it to him.

    "'Field Manual Six tack Thirty: Tactics, Techniques, and Procedures for Observed Fire'."

    He took it with the same sort of expression one normally reserves for being handed a hiccuping, recently-fed baby. "This is an Army manual."

    "I'm a Canadian warship, your inter-service rivalry is invalid." I grinned. "Besides, it's all-"

    "NATO standard" we chorused together. Velocity grimaced.

    "So, the choppers with the targets should be arriving around nine. We hired an Erikson to hoist Squealer's AFV, and for some reason Assault knew a clothing store that went out of buisness a couple months back and had a few dozen manequins to simulate infantry in the open. But mostly it's going to be simulated direct and indirect fire against very angry sand dunes. On the other hand-"

    "I get to blow up an island!"

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    ♦ Topic: Renovating an island
    In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay
    OhMyCOB (Original Poster)
    Posted On Aug 28th 2010:

    So here I am, minding my own business and looking forward to a nice weekend of fishing when I get word that my usual lucky haunt's going to be part of a 'Maritime exclusion zone' from sunrise to noon. Now, for those of you who're scratching your heads going 'What?', an exclusion zone is when the Coast Guard or Navy metaphorically ropes off an area to normal traffic, usually because something dangerous has, or is going, to happen in those waters.

    So I call up a chief I know, practically raised him from a slimy polliwog myself, and according to him the word is the PRT asked for the zone. Apparently some new Cape from up Brockton Bay needs a big, empty range for some power testing. So I figure this's gotta be more interesting than dragging a line around hoping the fish bite; and I've got this fancy camera rig for bird watching when the fish aren't biting... Might want to wander out that way and see what I can see. From outside the boundary lines; of course.

    So I make my way out there , fire up my camera rig, and pan around to find a kid standing on the water; about three miles south of the lighthouse on Monomoy Island. Now; big deal, right? Capes can do all sorts of weird crap; walking on water ain't gonna do more than upset some fundamentalist types. But this kid was wearing some sorta Tinker-tech backpack thing and was just covered in gun turrets. All ridiculously tiny. Kinda cute.

    Right up until the kid opened fire.

    Now, I'm naught but a washed-up old Coastie with too many barnacles for sea duty any more; but back in the day I served aboard one of our bigger cutters; and some of those babies have 5-inch guns. I swear that's exactly what it reminded me of. Except this kid had more than a half dozen of 'em.

    Where'n the hell's the Youth Guard; if the Protectorate's letting kid tinkers play around with the kind of gun power hasn't put to sea since 'Nam?

    Edit: Apparently the PRT decided to release some video of their own.

    (Showing page 12 of 48)

    ►Glory Girl (Verified Cape)(New Wave)
    Replied On Aug 29th 2010:

    What did you do to that Squealer tank-thing? It looked like it blew up from the inside.

    ►Haida (Verified Cape)(Wards ENE)(Verified Boat)
    Replied On Aug 29th 2010:

    Armor-piercing ballistic-capped copperhead round. Think 'Laser-guided bunker-buster' and you'll only be wrong in ways that don't matter. If you watch in slow motion, you can see the round come in, punch through the rear crew-compartment armor; and at that angle it probably got stopped by the engine block before detonating. Even with the entry hole, the cabin couldn't contain the blast and... pop. Nice lase by Velocity, by the way; he was acting as my spotter. From a safe distance.

    Remember kids, don't try this at home; we're what you call "experts".

    ►CheerfulUndertaker (Verified Mortician)
    Replied On Aug 29th 2010:

    So, out of morbid curiosity: What would have happened if there'd been people inside?

    ►XxVoid_CowboyxX
    Replied On Aug 29th 2010:

    In Shadowrun (a game) it's called the Chunky Salsa Effect. Also, "(Verified Boat)"?

    ►Haida (Verified Cape)(Wards ENE)(Verified Boat)
    Replied On Aug 29th 2010:

    Thank you for that very... concise summary, Cowboy. I'm kind of curious about the tag myself, I didn't request it. And I'm not a boat, I'm a ship!

    ►Tin_Mother (Moderator)
    Replied On Aug 29th 2010:

    This is why we don't just perma-ban him, as people have frequently requested. He does occasionally offer some useful insight.

    Haida> The tag was requested by two of your coworkers, separately. I edited their original suggestion. Do you really want to hang "Verified Ship" on your PHO account?

    ►XxVoid_CowboyxX
    Replied On Aug 29th 2010:

    I'd ship it.
    (User recieved an infraction for this post)

    ►Tin_Mother (Moderator)
    Replied On Aug 29th 2010:

    Case in point.

    ►Reave (Verified PRT Agent)
    Replied On Aug 29th 2010:

    In response to the concerns raised by the original poster: Haida is officially classed as a Breaker/Changer; with a Blaster subrating. Her weaponry is an extension of her anatomy; NOT Tinkertech. I cannot think of any situation short of an S-class threat where we would be able to justify putting anything deserving the name 'cannon' in the hands of a Ward. The exercise in question was part of her training to use her abilities in a controlled manner, in a safe setting and under the supervision and guidance of qualified instructors.

    We've compiled a video including aerial drone footage and ultra high speed cameras recording the target zones. It includes open source portions of the communication exchanges involved; but the audio has been edited, primarily to remove the soundtrack Haida provided.

    ►Haida (Verified Cape)(Wards ENE)(Verified Boat)
    Replied On Aug 29th 2010:

    Thanks Reave; I'd rather lick Newter or read Void Cowboy's fanfiction than deal with RIAA. Those guys are scary. If you're curious though, I started with Disturbed - Indestructible, then Thunderstruck by AC/DC; and Back In Control by Sabaton. Speaking of which; maybe I should look into getting one of those quadcopters myself. Can you control them from a tablet? That'd be handy on patrol.


    Victor leaned back from the keyboard and contemplated as the PRT's video played. The child certainly had the level of power he expected, though actually seeing it deployed was surprising. Of course he'd picked up public relations writing and psychological profiling skills; and reading between the lines it was obvious that both 'Haida' and the PRT were trying to emphasize the childs' ability to deploy less-lethal ordinance in stunning variety and quantity. Perhaps his best approach would be having some of her schoolmates help her realize that there are some people who're simply better off dead?

    So, this was a hard one to write. Not from any structural reasons; but entirely personal. The following spoiler tag should be considered 'trigger warning' stuff. And not the cool kind of trigger where an onmicidal space-whale brain parasite gives you the ability to fire a Care Bear Stare that turns gunpowder into mozzarella cheese.
    Late on August 6th, my father had a heart attack while at his home a signifigant distance from emergency medical services. Ambulance response time was going to be about half an hour. Instead, my mother and step-brother loaded him into his truck and drove him in to the hospital themselves; having already called 911. This was probably for the best because shortly after they got him into the ER, he had another and flatlined. The ER staff were able to get him back; he spent the night in ICU, and they evacuated him by helicopter air ambulance to a hospital in Vancouver the following morning.

    He was quickly scheduled for surgery, and on August 15th underwent a quadruple bypass.

    On August 16th I recieved a text message from my mother, who'd gone down to the city to be with him, that the surgery was a success and they expected him to be released on Tuesday.

    August 17th he died. He was 68.

    Despite living in the same small town; I hadn't seen him in nearly a month before his heart attack.
    So, yeah. I used up my reserve, coughed out two chapterettes that I'm still unsatisfied with, and then this... mess. It was never going to be an action scene, but switching to PHO and just having it described after the fact feels like a cop-out. Still, it does manage to bring the Shakedown arc to something resembling an end, even if it had to be dragged over the finish line by a tow-truck with a flat tire. Haida's achieved all the training goals Piggot set for her before the deadline; and it's time to start the school year.

    Or maybe it's time to finally drag it around back of the shed and put it out of its misery. Jury's still out.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • You have my deepest condolences for your personal situation. Take your time, do what you feel you need to do, and get yourself on an even keel if possible.

    In terms of the chapter, PHO reaction was likely the best possible way to handle it, otherwise we would have been stuck watching Haida blow up a bunch of inanimate objects.


    And the continued irony of a Nazi trying to recruit a Canadian warship is astounding.
     
    Automatonation said:
    And the continued irony of a Nazi trying to recruit a Canadian warship is astounding.
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    To be fair he still got no idea she is a canadian shipgirl and so far his plans are fairly safe both from body harm and from discovery, he only needs to impress his Junior SS that this is a soft sell only and the first one that tries to intimidate her or worse will be castrated and thrown to an ABB whorehouse.
     
    Haida looking around at the cafeteria table of skinheads who've decided to 'Be friendly and help the new girl stay away from those ABB gangers': "You guys are actual Nazis, you know that, right? I mean, how bad is american school history classes if you can't realize the nazis were the bad guys."
    Are we the baddies?
     
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    Taliserian, I'm sorry to hear about your father. I'll echo Automatonation: take your time and take care of yourself. For whatever it's worth, I've enjoyed even the "chapterettes" that leave you unsatisfied; if the next thing that happens for Northern Light is seeing in six months on wormstorysearch that you've updated, I'll simply be delighted the story is continuing and to have an excuse and reminder to reread what you've already done.
     
    No criticism to offer on the story, it's got me caught with no complaints, it's rare and refreshing to see an OC start, nevermind one that's this well balanced (seaworthy?)


    As for the personal situation, my condolences also, and, perhaps a suggestion to consider carefully if writing becomes a chore, whether to keep going to not lose momentum in life entirely, or to lay it aside to lessen the load. Everyone handles grief differently. Either way, we'll be here to read it, I expect.

    Please do only whatever you need to, but I don't feel you have cause to end it on a lack of merit.
     
    Thank you for the chapter, and my condolences.

    Sorry I can't really add more, but echo what others have already said. Remember to look after yourself, and we'll be here whenever you feel like posting.
     
    Taliserian said:
    Or maybe it's time to finally drag it around back of the shed and put it out of its misery. Jury's still out.
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    Hey, I'm so sorry for your loss. Take whatever time you need and don't feel pressured at all to put anything out, happy or unhappy with the state of it. Your readers will be here if and when you return or feel up to/happier with your writing.
     
    Condolances. Take care of yourself first and formost hobbies can always wait.

    On the story itself this does not read like a first fic. It's not going straight to my top ten, but it's definitely solid work. :) thanks for sharing it
     
    I write a lot; this is just the first that I've published. :) Probably helps that I read almost obsessively. And let's face it, fanfic authors are just creative plagiarists. ;)

    I think part of the reason I just don't want to keep going is that school, even with 'friendly' nazis, is just so... boring. And right now I don't really want to dip into the head space that'll make writing... authentic nazis plausible. But it'd be doing them a discredit to just use caricatures. Something makes people pick up tiki-torches and scream hateful things; and I (and Dani) are the sort of curious that wonder what went wrong to break someone on such a fundamental level that they think that sort of behavior is worthy of pride and praise.

    In the end, we're all just a bunch of mutant monkeys filling time until we can pass on our genes; stuck on a tiny rock hurtling through a vast, uncaring cosmos.

    I've got a second idea that I threw past my Beta last night; more to get it out of my head than any real reason. Might end up posting that snippet as well. I should not have binge-watched Macross Frontier and Delta back to back without sleeping and with a text file open.
     
    Cruise 2.1
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    • Winslow High
    8Sep10, 1145 Lima

    Coach Hernandez and I had come to an understanding pretty quickly: having a Brute 5 in gym class was pointless. Any sort of team sport I'd have to sandbag, make my own team mad at me and leave the other team feeling like I let them win. Same with anything individual. Coach and I had agreed that it was better for his class, and my grades, if I used the time to work on my homework for other classes.

    I was doing OK at the new school. Math was math, no matter what side of the border you're on. Chemistry and physics are also still math. Imperial units are a pain in the aft but I could work things out eventually. History... was weird. The textbook focused almost exclusively on America and American accomplishments. Like World War 2 hadn't been going on for five years already before the Japanese screwed up their attack on Pearl Harbor.
    World Affairs with Gladly would have been better if not for Gladly. The man had a serious case of Peter Pan syndrome. It was like the only reason he became a teacher is so that he could have decades to try and be the coolest kid in school. And the manchild was positively mad about Capes. It only took two classes for me to decide that I was going to be as strictly formal with this creepy guy as I possibly could so there's no way he'd mistake me for being friendly. And that every possible assignment, I'd be looking at ways that Capes had made something worse, or that Aleph had handled a similar situation better through mundane means.
    I was never going to be alone in a room with him either.

    But eventually the lunch bell rang and my blissful peace and quiet was invaded. For the first week, everyone'd been a little wary and despite the overcrowding of Winslow I'd been left to myself at lunch. Today, it seemed like the first gang was going to take a push at me; a half dozen white guys, all in fairly good shape, with shaved heads wearing tank tops and jeans joined me at the table. The one who sat beside me had stylized '88' tattooed on the back of his head.

    Ok, I get that the American public education system is a joke; but how can you not realize that the Nazis were the bad guys. I mean... what gets broken in your head that makes you think that Auschwitz and Dachau were good ideas? I suppose the skinhead took my shocked incomprehension as an invitation.

    "Hey, mind if we join you?"

    "You wish to surrender? Very well, I accept." I smirked at their uncomprehending looks. No appreciation for the classics around here. Except for Assault, of course. "Here, help yourself." I slid the skinhead my coffee mug, full of a steaming black liquid. I'm not sure if he thought it was some sort of challenge or he was just that stupid, but he tried to take a long pull from the mug.

    I say tried because about a tenth of a second after he got the mug to his lips he was desperately trying to spit out everything he'd just drank, while also screaming pained obscenities. I caught the mug he dropped; viscous liquid clinging to its interior. He and his buddies all leapt to their feet, but before my prank victim could let fly with a completely nonthreatening punch, his elbow was grabbed by a well-dressed blonde. "Don't be stupid, Mark."

    The furious skinhead paused, looking back at the newcomer, then stormed off towards the school nurses' office. He was trying to tough it out; but I could see tears in his eyes. "My hero." I waved the new boy towards the vacated seat and tried unsuccessfully not to enjoy the eye candy. He was built like a movie star; and looked to be a year or so older than I. Mmmm. I set my mug back down as he sat beside me, picked up my spoon, and gave the contents a stir.

    "Aaron Byrd, actually. And I think the whole school knows you you are." He smiled. Perfect teeth, of course.

    "So much for cultivating an aura of mystery." I let go of my spoon and offered him my hand. "Dani Dewolf."

    He shook my hand distractedly, eyeing the spoon standing upright in the tarlike contents of the mug. "Uhm, what is that?"

    "This? Bunker C." I took a long drink. "Better than coffee. ...might be poisonous; come to think of it."

    "It looks like tar."

    "It is." I smirked and took another drink.

    "...Capes are weird."

    "You don't know the half of it."

    He smiled another one of those perfect smiles again. We ended up chatting through the rest of lunch. I learned he was a 'running back', whatever that was, on the schools' sportsball team. Look, I know it's a stereotype, but if it's not hockey, it may as well be martian as far as my knowledge of sports goes. But he was happy to explain; and before we knew it the bell was ringing to end the break.

    "So, umm, Dani... Did you want to catch a movie Saturday night?"

    "I can't, I've got 'work'. What about Friday?"

    "I've got practice. And Sundays are out because of-"

    "-Homework." I chorused with him. "Maybe next weekend? I'll talk to my, er, boss, see if I can get Saturdays off."

    "Right, see you around, Dani." Aaron waved and disappeared into the crowd, and I practically floated to my next class.

    ^v^V^v^​

    Patrol Route Charlie Six
    11Sep10, 2133 Lima
    ​
    "...But nooo, I've gotta be here roof-hopping with the city's least-popular ex-vigilante when I could be seeing a movie with a football star."

    "Oh shut up already." I don't think Shadow Stalker liked the dig. "Like anyone would invite you on a date; you're flatter than Vista."

    "Just because you aren't getting any... I mean, that Madison girl's pretty nice. Sophia, I never knew you swung that way. Not judging or any-wait." I held up a hand to block her punch. Let's be honest, I deserved it. "Console, Haida; got a dozen skinheads loitering outside the Wacleva Deli on Centennial. Isn't this Merchant territory?"

    "They might be making a push in that sector. You're clear to engage." Vista's cheerful voice came back almost immediately.

    I reached up and pulled off my maple leaf bandanna, stuffing it into one exterior pocket of my jacket and reaching inside for another; this one with a broad diagonal white stripe that, when folded, left the resulting triangle half white over red. Stalker tapped a foot impatiently while I made the switch and tied the new one on. "Sorry, my sister'd never forgive me if I missed this opportunity."

    "I thought you were an only child."

    "I mean the Błyskawica. Fuck my family. Cover me." I leapt off the roof and called on my ship-self's wind resistance to slow my fall so I didn't crater the asphalt when I did a near perfect three point landing in the middle of the street. Vista was right, my power was complete bullship. Holding the pose a beat to make sure all eyes were on me, I summoned my Rigging. "Let me guess, friendly neighborhood insurance salesmen, just making sure everything's kosher?"

    I may have spent too much time patrolling with Clockblocker and Assault. The Empire thugs readied a motley collection of baseball bats, knives, and the occasional handgun. "What's the matter boys? I thought it was supposed to be brown shirts, not brown-" The door of the deli opened and a white-clad, all-white man stepped out at the head of another half dozen nazis. And I mean all white; like, paler than me. Ok, our hair was the same shade at least. "...ship."

    "Haida. Fancy meeting you here." Alabaster smirked.

    "Daddy! Mom sent me to remind you to pick up a gallon of milk after work." That got every one of his minions to turn from me and stare at him. It even made the achromatic aryan blink in surprise. "Yeah, no; just joking. You couldn't possibly be my father. I've read your file; you can't sustain an erection for more than 4.3 seconds."

    One of his minions snickered. Alabaster shot him in the leg with a handgun without even looking. "Don't just stand there; wreck her shit."

    "Stalker, now would be a very good time for covering fire. Break. Console, Haida, engaging Alabaster plus eighteen; may have to get creative here." I reached behind myself, up under my jacket. I couldn't just shoot him. I was pretty sure a round from my mains would distribute him across enough volume fast enough that he couldn't reset; but there wasn't a kill order on file for him, and a stray HiCap round would cause more collateral damage than Glory Girl. Instead, I did something I'd only started training on when Armsmaster had suggested it.

    I drew one of my anchors, held it out to the side, and let it drop to the pavement at full weight; chain playing out from my sleeve through my hand. Reverting it to proportional weight, I lifted it by the chain and started spinning it in a vertical circle. Meanwhile I flipped the switches in my head that hooked the crew's entertainment system into the outer deck speakers. I made a come-at-me gesture and started singing along with Joakim Broden.

    'So silent before the storm, awaiting command
    A few have been chosen to stand
    As one, outnumbered by far...'

    Look, no one's ever accused skinheads of being brilliant. I don't know if they recognized the song, or what. But they saw a cape with a melee weapon, so they ignored the fact that the same cape was literally covered in guns, and figured they could go for it with knives and bats. Of course I shot them. I hadn't summoned my Rigging to tan my poopdeck. Then I threw my anchor at Alabaster, letting the chain pay out freely.

    The Empire cape dodged to the side and shot me in the chest. He wasn't using an antitank rifle, so I ignored it and leapt, flipping my anchor to full mass and running the winch in. Since it weighed tons at the moment and I didn't, I flew towards it instead. He shot me in the back of the head as I landed, immediately flipping my weapon back to proportional mass and whipping it in a vicious backhand arc by the chain. With a sound like tearing canvas as it parted the air, reverted to normal mass, it caught him square in the chest and slammed him into a white Volkswagen beetle. One side of the car dished in and it abruptly parallel un-parked into the middle of the road. I pulled my improvised weapon back into my hand.

    Alabaster extracted himself from the wrecked Bug and brushed away an imaginary speck of dust from his pristine white suit with a smirk. I spun my anchor up again and cast; but he dodged to the side and started running. I did the haul-myself-in trick again, firing a burst of beanbag rounds from one of my oerlikons into his back, then whipped my anchor at his knees. This time I managed to tangle his legs in the chain and he went down.

    Before he could recover I was on him, running the chain in a figure eight around his ankles and letting the anchor and the chain links not directly on his legs retake their full weight. "Console, Haida; Alabaster's down. Request transport. We'll also need a tow truck and a paving crew." I looked over at Shadow Stalker, who was zip-cuffing skinheads. "Thanks for the help."

    "You had it under control, superstar." Her response was as sarcastic as mine.

    I dismissed my Rigging and put a foot on Alabaster's chest, looking him in the blank white eyes as I pulled a card from one of outer pockets of my jacket. "You have the right to remain silent. If you decide to waive this right, anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an lawyer..."


    Victor's dining room
    12Sep10, 1800

    They made a point to enjoy at least one meal a week as a family. Even if they were decidedly less than nuclear, the Clan were still kin, and tradition was important. Even Rune was less surly than her usual. A free three course meal by someone who'd acquired the skills of a master chef made even the grumpiest of growing teens at least pretend to be civil. She floated the butter dish to Othala and took her turn at 'polite family conversation'. "So, cousin, how's the team looking this year?"

    "Looks like the wetback's finally clued in, I'm going to be on the starting lineup. Doesn't hurt that the nigger he was gonna cut me for got his leg broken in a cape fight." Aaron smiled.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • Taliserian said:
    Yeah, no; just joking. You couldn't possibly be my father. I've read your file; you can't sustain an erection for more than 4.3 seconds."
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    That was a sick burn.
    Taliserian said:
    So silent before the storm, awaiting command
    A few have been chosen to stand
    As one, outnumbered by far...'
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    All my yes.
    Taliserian said:
    "Looks like the wetback's finally clued in, I'm going to be on the starting lineup. Doesn't hurt that the nigger he was gonna cut me for got his leg broken in a cape fight." Aaron smiled.
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    ... of course he's a Nazi. That's a very dangerous game he's playing.
     
    Great to see this update. love me some Flagship of the Royal Canadian Navy action. that bit with "40 to 1" and the anchor was awesome.
     
    You really have to wonder what is going through his head. I mean, with Taylor i can see since shes socially isolated and vulnerable in alot of ways due to the bullying, Pre-trigger shes a great recruitment target.

    But hey, lets try to seduce the heroic canadian cape with exactly no self confidence issues and enough firepower to reduce him to a fine red mist scattered over several kilometres. Nothing could go wrong with that plan.
     
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    Taliserian said:
    Like World War 2 hadn't been going on for five years already before the Japanese screwed up their attack on Pearl Harbor.
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    Dani is using the Japaneses invasion of China as the start of WWII instead of the 1st​ September, 1939 invasion of Poland?

    Taliserian said:
    "Aaron Byrd, actually. And I think the whole school knows you you are." He smiled. Perfect teeth, of course.
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    I think the first "you" in the quote above should be "who".

    With regard to Haida's torpedo tubes, you might want to check out the Royal Navy's Mark X series depth charges which were launched from 21 inch torpedo tubes.
     
    ChaoticSky said:
    You really have to wonder what is going through his head. I mean, with Taylor i can see since shes socially isolated and vulnerable in alot of ways due to the bullying, Pre-trigger shes a great recruitment target.

    But hey, lets try to seduce the heroic canadian cape with exactly no self confidence issues and enough firepower to reduce him to a fine red mist scattered over several kilometres. Nothing could go wrong with that plan.
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    He's a Nazi. Lack of common sense is a job requirement.
     
    Tisaku said:
    -An oerlikon can't properly cycle without full power cartridges. That bean bag is probably trying to be supersonic unless those guns have been refitted specifically to fire light ammo.-
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    That's been covered before, back in 1.3b. Dragon long ago pointed out that the same shaker bullship that lets her do things like switch her mass between a few dozen kilos and two kilotons also lets her toggle the bolt resistance from 'normal 20mm oerlikon' and 'shotgun shell could cycle this' levels.
     
    Last edited:
    That dig against Alabaster was the best insult/witty banter I have seen in recent memory! Really that on it's own made my night.
     
    Wow This is going to be a train wreck.
    One that the Train thinks everything will work out perfectly, and the Wrecker will have Probably have no knowledge of the train crashing and burning into her even after the hit.
     
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