UbeOne
Daydreaming CPU
- Location
- Philippines
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Curiously, does this sort of ruling apply to the Illustrious-class and the support carrier Shinano? How about USS Ranger?
Shadowed Memoria III: Revenge of The Ship (OOC)(CURRENTLY: Closed)
- Thread starter SeismicGuide
- Start date
- OOC
Eh... Illustrious would require discussion, due to her low aircraft capacity being due less to design inefficiencies and more a lack of permanent deck parking, Shinano is a support carrier, and Ranger, for all her failings, is still a fleet CV due to the fact that she carries (under normal circumstances) more planes than the Shokaku-class does.
Librarian
SAN Loss Isn't Fun Anymore...
Ha, for all the DOITSU NO KATAGI, they really dropped the ball hard on poor Graf and her sisters. Especially the original designs.
10(!) Fighters. 16(!) Cruiser-grade (15cm!) guns. Half their aircraft complement in biplanes.
Oh, and those ten fighters? Bf109s are land-based fighters with pathetic range, meaning they can't escort the bombers at all.
And I'm not kidding aboit the seaborne scout platorm. They actually wanted to use the Graf Zeppelins as superhuge convoy raiders.
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SeismicGuide
The Quakiest of Quakebotes
- Location
- A usually Warm, Southern state of the US
...She's getting a Nick IC. No ifs, ands or buts.
She's being named,
- Location
- Canada
I'd say Shinano is an Escort Carrier with Battleship armor and internals.
Accountant (Wave Pending)
- Location
- Somewhere
Name: William K. Henderson
Ship name: USS Accountant Sea
Class name: Scheme 59C Typhon Destroyer
Appearance: Basically Katherine Hepburn, in all her mid 20th century glory, dressed like a secretary. Except she's carrying around an M60 and knows how to use it.
Personality:
Armor: Not much.
Speed: 32kt
Name: Joeseph Daniel Simmons
Ship name: U.S.S. Richard Nixon
Class name: Scheme 59C Typhon Combat System Destroyer
Appearance:
Personality:
Armor: Not much.
Speed: 32kt
Other companion (for a flotilla of 3): U.S.S. Robert Eugene Bush,.
Name: Christopher K. Lawrence
Ship name: U.S.S. Rhode Island
Class name: Rhode Island-class BBV
Appearance:
Well, this but as a Longtana.
Personality: Quiet, loner type that keeps to themselves most of the time. Doesn't actively shun human contact, but certainly doesn't seek it out.
Quirks/Habits:
Christopher grew up in a small town in Michigan, large enough to be found on a map (if only barely) but small enough that almost nobody ever bothered to visit. He graduated high school in 1989, got accepted into the University of Michigan as a computer science major, and never looked back. After that, he was hired fresh out of college by Digital Equipment Corporation--which proceeded to kick the bucket not too long after he was hired--and spent the next decade or so shuffling between entry level programmer jobs in the area until the dot-com bubble burst.
He met the love of his life on a flight to San Francisco in September of 1996. They got married the year after...and promptly got a divorce two years later. As it turns out, "high-functioning alcoholic with a tenuous grasp on reality" is not a good set of character traits for maintaining relationships long term. They remained on speaking terms, somehow, and kept in touch afterwards.
The poor bastard finally met his end on a Friday night sometime late August of 2002. Got ran over by a truck while stumbling home drunk or something, idk.
Armor: 16" belt, 22.5" turret faces
Speed: 34 kt
Ship name: USS Accountant Sea
Class name: Scheme 59C Typhon Destroyer
Appearance: Basically Katherine Hepburn, in all her mid 20th century glory, dressed like a secretary. Except she's carrying around an M60 and knows how to use it.
Personality:
- Relatively subdued emotional response.
- Comes across as easygoing unless something really sets him off because, quite frankly, after ~60 years of dealing with life's curveballs there isn't much left that can shake him up.
- Graceful under pressure, tends to react well to surprises and shit happening.
- Likes his peace and quiet. Has tendency to seek out a corner and just sort of do his own thing when in social gatherings.
- Coat of holding: can pull damn near anything out of her coat
- Likes to sit in the corner of a room whenever possible.
- Big coffee drinker.
- Frighteningly good at fighting using the fixtures and whatnot commonly found in office buildings.
William K. Henderson was born sometime in year 1950. Nobody knows when exactly, because the guy was found abandoned at the doorstep of a Seattle fire department one day. He was adopted by one of the firefighters there.
Henderson was the quiet, nerdy type growing up, with a sharp eye and a quiet sort of charisma. As a kid, he spent inordinate amounts of time in the local library while the other boys were out playing baseball, reading up on damn near everything he could get his hands on.
Kids can be assholes to people who are different, yet somehow young boy Henderson managed to dodge the worst of it. Might have something to do with the crazy redhead that was his older sister threatening to pummel the everloving shit out of anybody who picked on him, or it could've been his absolutely terrifying business acumen and penchant for hustling, who knows. In any case, he somehow managed to buy himself a brand new Ford Thunderbird with his own money straight out of high school. Unfortunately, his dreams of going to college to study advertising and become a copy-writer were dashed when a freak accident involving a friend's Cessna, a spaghetti strainer, and a lot of alcohol lead to the five of them getting arrested.
The sentencing judge was sympathetic, thankfully, so he was given the option of joining the military instead of serving time in prison. He enlisted in the US Army and spent the next four years sweating his ass off as an M551 Sheridan's gunner, running around the jungle in South Vietnam praying to god his tank didn't get hit. In 1971, he scored the only sword kill in Vietnam, bludgeoning a VC to death with the NCO sabre of a fallen Staff Sergeant when the base was attacked during a formal event and saving the life of his commanding officer.
Returning home from Vietnam to a new son he didn't remember having and a wife that didn't understand what he's been through, William felt like a fish out of water. To make things worse, said wife left him to go live with a plumber named "Jody," leaving him alone and trying to figure out what to do with his life once again.
Picking up the pieces and trying his damnedest to get his life back on track, William spent the next four years crashing at the house of another guy he knew from 'nam, drifting between jobs while he tried to get his shit back together. For the longest time, Eventually he went to community college, got a degree in accounting, and went on to get a job at General Electric as an accountant.
Immediately prior to his untimely death, William was an accountant working at The Crimson Permanent Insurance, which had been recently acquired by the Very Large Corporation of America via hostile takeover. After a labor dispute between the elderly accountants and their new corporate overlords resulted in a manager locked in the safe deposit box, the employees of TCPI forced the rest of the managers to walk the plank and transformed their office building into a massive pirate ship, sailing it down the streets of New York and counter-invading VLCA's board room via a boarding action.
After a pitched battle of fifteen minutes in the board room of VLCA which ended with the defenestration of their CEO and several casualties precipitated by thrown stationery and office chairs, everybody got the hell out of dodge to avoid being implicated in the following police investigation, running out a back alleyway while people tried to figure out how the heck a building managed to migrate itself without external assistance. He would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for the fact that he got ran over by a drug dealer trying to get away from his psycho ex-girlfriend.
Henderson was the quiet, nerdy type growing up, with a sharp eye and a quiet sort of charisma. As a kid, he spent inordinate amounts of time in the local library while the other boys were out playing baseball, reading up on damn near everything he could get his hands on.
Kids can be assholes to people who are different, yet somehow young boy Henderson managed to dodge the worst of it. Might have something to do with the crazy redhead that was his older sister threatening to pummel the everloving shit out of anybody who picked on him, or it could've been his absolutely terrifying business acumen and penchant for hustling, who knows. In any case, he somehow managed to buy himself a brand new Ford Thunderbird with his own money straight out of high school. Unfortunately, his dreams of going to college to study advertising and become a copy-writer were dashed when a freak accident involving a friend's Cessna, a spaghetti strainer, and a lot of alcohol lead to the five of them getting arrested.
The sentencing judge was sympathetic, thankfully, so he was given the option of joining the military instead of serving time in prison. He enlisted in the US Army and spent the next four years sweating his ass off as an M551 Sheridan's gunner, running around the jungle in South Vietnam praying to god his tank didn't get hit. In 1971, he scored the only sword kill in Vietnam, bludgeoning a VC to death with the NCO sabre of a fallen Staff Sergeant when the base was attacked during a formal event and saving the life of his commanding officer.
Returning home from Vietnam to a new son he didn't remember having and a wife that didn't understand what he's been through, William felt like a fish out of water. To make things worse, said wife left him to go live with a plumber named "Jody," leaving him alone and trying to figure out what to do with his life once again.
Picking up the pieces and trying his damnedest to get his life back on track, William spent the next four years crashing at the house of another guy he knew from 'nam, drifting between jobs while he tried to get his shit back together. For the longest time, Eventually he went to community college, got a degree in accounting, and went on to get a job at General Electric as an accountant.
Immediately prior to his untimely death, William was an accountant working at The Crimson Permanent Insurance, which had been recently acquired by the Very Large Corporation of America via hostile takeover. After a labor dispute between the elderly accountants and their new corporate overlords resulted in a manager locked in the safe deposit box, the employees of TCPI forced the rest of the managers to walk the plank and transformed their office building into a massive pirate ship, sailing it down the streets of New York and counter-invading VLCA's board room via a boarding action.
After a pitched battle of fifteen minutes in the board room of VLCA which ended with the defenestration of their CEO and several casualties precipitated by thrown stationery and office chairs, everybody got the hell out of dodge to avoid being implicated in the following police investigation, running out a back alleyway while people tried to figure out how the heck a building managed to migrate itself without external assistance. He would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for the fact that he got ran over by a drug dealer trying to get away from his psycho ex-girlfriend.
- 2x Mk. 10 GMLS carrying Typhon-LR, RoF is improved to 15s between missile salvos.
- 4x Mk. 13 GMLS carrying Typhon-MR
- 1x ASROC "pepperbox" launcher
- 2x Mk. 32 triple torpedo tube mounts
- Helicopter facilities with room for two DASH ASW helicopter drones.
Speed: 32kt
Name: Joeseph Daniel Simmons
Ship name: U.S.S. Richard Nixon
Class name: Scheme 59C Typhon Combat System Destroyer
Appearance:
Personality:
- A "we'll make it work, somehow"attitude.
- Optimism in spite of the situation being completely and utterly fucked.
- Good work ethic, takes the jobs he's given seriously.
- Conversational, likes talking to others, even if they're complete strangers.
- Really doesn't like 1961 model Ford Thunderbirds, especially blue ones.
- Likes old aircraft, such as the Lockheed Constellation or the Boeing 707.
- Does not like alcohol, at all.
Joe D. Simmons was born in the winter of 1952. His father, a WWII vet working as an airline pilot for Pan Am, was seldom around, so he was raised by his mother and twin sisters.
They lived in a suburb within commuting distance of Chicago O'Hare, and for the most part they led a comfortable and unventful life. His mother, daughter of a professor at Columbia University, chafed at the life of a housewife, but she did as best she could to raise her three children and by all accounts did a decent job of it.
Things really began going downhill for them August of 1961, however, when his father was hit by a drunk driver who ignored the stop sign at the end of a highway entrance ramp. By the time paramedics came to cut him out of his brand new Ford Thunderbird, he was halfway covered in third degree burns and his legs were completely mangled. This man would never fly--or walk--again. He recovered eventually, but he was never quite the same again.
With the father, a decorated WWII pilot and airline pilot, now reduced to an unemployable cripple, the responsibility of putting food on the table and keeping the bills paid fell to the rest of the family. His mother got hired as a switchboard operator, the twins both found work at a typewriter pool, and Joe was working whatever part-time jobs he could find as soon as he was old enough.
Joe met the love of his life, Margaret Henderson, in 1970 while working as a milkman. She was a lonely military wife with a husband that hasn't been home in two years, and he was an eighteen-year-old fresh out of high school delivering milk to her house every day. It's that simple.
They lived in a suburb within commuting distance of Chicago O'Hare, and for the most part they led a comfortable and unventful life. His mother, daughter of a professor at Columbia University, chafed at the life of a housewife, but she did as best she could to raise her three children and by all accounts did a decent job of it.
Things really began going downhill for them August of 1961, however, when his father was hit by a drunk driver who ignored the stop sign at the end of a highway entrance ramp. By the time paramedics came to cut him out of his brand new Ford Thunderbird, he was halfway covered in third degree burns and his legs were completely mangled. This man would never fly--or walk--again. He recovered eventually, but he was never quite the same again.
With the father, a decorated WWII pilot and airline pilot, now reduced to an unemployable cripple, the responsibility of putting food on the table and keeping the bills paid fell to the rest of the family. His mother got hired as a switchboard operator, the twins both found work at a typewriter pool, and Joe was working whatever part-time jobs he could find as soon as he was old enough.
Joe met the love of his life, Margaret Henderson, in 1970 while working as a milkman. She was a lonely military wife with a husband that hasn't been home in two years, and he was an eighteen-year-old fresh out of high school delivering milk to her house every day. It's that simple.
- 2x Mk. 10 GMLS carrying Typhon-LR, RoF is improved to 15s between missile salvos.
- 4x Mk. 13 GMLS carrying Typhon-MR
- 1x ASROC "pepperbox" launcher
- 2x Mk. 32 triple torpedo tube mounts
- Helicopter facilities with room for two DASH ASW helicopter drones.
Speed: 32kt
Other companion (for a flotilla of 3): U.S.S. Robert Eugene Bush,.
Name: Christopher K. Lawrence
Ship name: U.S.S. Rhode Island
Class name: Rhode Island-class BBV
Appearance:
Well, this but as a Longtana.
Quirks/Habits:
- Ambidextrous
- Likes Johnny Cash and The Doors.
- Drives like a maniac
- Has an instinctive hatred of Canadian Geese
- Deathly afraid of Vacuum cleaners
- Prefers steak medium rare
- Favorite drink is Captain Morgan's
- Likes to drink sodas without ice
- Tends to eat French Fries from McDonalds by the handful instead of one fry at a time
- Speaks in some ungodly chimera of Texan and Irish accents. Nobody knows how the fuck it happened and honestly it's quite disturbing.
- Insists that birds aren't real.
- Very messy individual, tends not to organize their living spaces very well.
- Can sleep standing up, and sometimes prefers to do so.
- Very good throwing arm, can nail somebody with a brick 200 feet away.
- Good in bar fights
Christopher grew up in a small town in Michigan, large enough to be found on a map (if only barely) but small enough that almost nobody ever bothered to visit. He graduated high school in 1989, got accepted into the University of Michigan as a computer science major, and never looked back. After that, he was hired fresh out of college by Digital Equipment Corporation--which proceeded to kick the bucket not too long after he was hired--and spent the next decade or so shuffling between entry level programmer jobs in the area until the dot-com bubble burst.
He met the love of his life on a flight to San Francisco in September of 1996. They got married the year after...and promptly got a divorce two years later. As it turns out, "high-functioning alcoholic with a tenuous grasp on reality" is not a good set of character traits for maintaining relationships long term. They remained on speaking terms, somehow, and kept in touch afterwards.
The poor bastard finally met his end on a Friday night sometime late August of 2002. Got ran over by a truck while stumbling home drunk or something, idk.
- 12x 16"/50 guns in four triple turrets
- 20x 5"/54 in 10 twin turrets, seven to a side.
- 2x Mk. 11 GMLS with Tartar carrying 42 RIM-24C Tartar missiles
- 28x 3"/50RF guns in 14 twin turrets
- 60x 40mm/70 Bofors autocannons in sextuple mounts
- 20x F8U-III Crusader
- 10x A-7 Corsair II
Speed: 34 kt
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Initial loadout surface-to-surface missiles aren't allowed, and without those, you don't have any armament that can hurt enemy ships. Frankly, it's @SeismicGuide 's call, but I'd be inclined to deny the app just because of the lack of armament without breaching the rules RE: anti-surface missiles.Name: William K. Henderson
Ship name: USS Accountant Sea
Class name: Scheme 59H Typhon CGN
Appearance: Dressed like a 50s secretary, except with an M60.
Personality:
Quirks/Habits:
- Coat of holding: can pull damn near anything out of her coat
William K. Henderson was born sometime in year 1950. Nobody knows when exactly, because the guy was found abandoned at the doorstep of a Seattle fire department one day. He was adopted by one of the firefighters there.
Henderson was the quiet, nerdy type growing up, with a sharp eye and a quiet sort of charisma. As a kid, he spent inordinate amounts of time in the local library while the other boys were out playing baseball, reading up on damn near everything he could get his hands on.
Kids can be assholes to people who are different, yet somehow young boy Henderson managed to dodge the worst of it. Might have something to do with the crazy redhead that was his older sister threatening to pummel the everloving shit out of anybody who picked on him, or it could've been his absolutely terrifying business acumen and penchant for hustling, who knows. In any case, he somehow managed to buy himself a brand new Ford Thunderbird with his own money straight out of high school. Unfortunately, his dreams of going to college to study advertising and become a copy-writer were dashed when a freak accident involving a friend's Cessna, a spaghetti strainer, and a lot of alcohol lead to the five of them getting arrested.
The sentencing judge was sympathetic, thankfully, so he was given the option of joining the military instead of serving time in prison. He enlisted in the US Army and spent the next four years sweating his ass off as an M551 Sheridan's gunner, running around the jungle in South Vietnam praying to god his tank didn't get hit. In 1971, he scored the only sword kill in Vietnam, bludgeoning a VC to death with the NCO sabre of a fallen Staff Sergeant when the base was attacked during a formal event and saving the life of his commanding officer.
Returning home from Vietnam to a new son he didn't remember having and a wife that didn't understand what he's been through. Said wife, unfortunately, left him to go live with a plumber named "Jody," leaving him alone and trying to figure out what to do with his life once again.
Picking up the pieces and trying his damnedest to get his life back on track, William spent the next four years crashing at the house of another guy he knew from 'nam, drifting between jobs while he tried to get his shit back together. For the longest time, Eventually he went to community college, got a degree in accounting, and went on to get a job at General Electric as an accountant.
Immediately prior to his untimely death, William was an accountant working at The Crimson Permanent Insurance, which had been recently acquired by the Very Large Corporation of America via hostile takeover. After a labor dispute between the elderly accountants and their new corporate overlords resulted in a manager locked in the safe deposit box, the employees of TCPI forced the rest of the managers to walk the plank and transformed their office building into a massive pirate ship, sailing it down the streets of New York and counter-invading VLCA's board room via a boarding action.
After a pitched battle of fifteen minutes in the board room of VLCA which ended with the defenestration of their CEO and several casualties precipitated by thrown stationery and office chairs, everybody got the hell out of dodge to avoid being implicated in the following police investigation, running out a back alleyway while people tried to figure out how the heck a building managed to migrate itself without external assistance. He would've gotten away with it too, if it weren't for the fact that he got ran over by a drug dealer trying to get away from his psycho ex-girlfriend.
Armor: Not much.See picture for details, completely and utterly empty if the GM insists on no missiles at game start.
- 2x Mk. 10 GMLS carrying Typhon-LR
- 4x Mk. 10 GMLS carrying Typhon-MR
- 1x ASROC "pepperbox" launcher
- Helicopter facilities with room for two, currently carrying SH-2 Seasprites.
Speed: 32kt
- Location
- Somewhere
Name: Joeseph Daniel Simmons
Ship name: U.S.S. Robert Eugene Bush
Class name: Scheme 59C Typhon Combat System Destroyer
Appearance:
Personality:
Armor: Not much.
Speed: 32kt
Flotilla Mates: USS John Basilone and USS Edwin J. Hill
Ship name: U.S.S. Robert Eugene Bush
Class name: Scheme 59C Typhon Combat System Destroyer
Appearance:
Personality:
- A "we'll make it work, somehow"attitude.
- Optimism in spite of the situation being completely and utterly fucked.
- Good work ethic, takes the jobs he's given seriously.
- Conversational, likes talking to others, even if they're complete strangers.
- Really doesn't like 1961 model Ford Thunderbirds, especially blue ones.
- Likes old aircraft, such as the Lockheed Constellation or the Boeing 707.
- Does not like alcohol, at all.
Joe D. Simmons was born in the winter of 1952. His father, a WWII vet working as an airline pilot for Pan Am, was seldom around, so he was raised by his mother and twin sisters.
They lived in a suburb within commuting distance of Chicago O'Hare, and for the most part they led a comfortable and unventful life. His mother, daughter of a professor at Columbia University, chafed at the life of a housewife, but she did as best she could to raise her three children and by all accounts did a decent job of it.
Things really began going downhill for them August of 1961, however, when his father was hit by a drunk driver who ignored the stop sign at the end of a highway entrance ramp. By the time paramedics came to cut him out of his brand new Ford Thunderbird, he was halfway covered in third degree burns and his legs were completely mangled. This man would never fly--or walk--again. He recovered eventually, but he was never quite the same again.
With the father, a decorated WWII pilot and airline pilot, now reduced to an unemployable cripple, the responsibility of putting food on the table and keeping the bills paid fell to the rest of the family. His mother got hired as a switchboard operator, the twins both found work at a typewriter pool, and Joe was working whatever part-time jobs he could find as soon as he was old enough.
Joe met the love of his life, Margaret Henderson, in 1970 while working as a milkman. She was a lonely military wife with a husband that hasn't been home in two years, and he was an eighteen-year-old fresh out of high school delivering milk to her house every day. It's that simple.
They lived in a suburb within commuting distance of Chicago O'Hare, and for the most part they led a comfortable and unventful life. His mother, daughter of a professor at Columbia University, chafed at the life of a housewife, but she did as best she could to raise her three children and by all accounts did a decent job of it.
Things really began going downhill for them August of 1961, however, when his father was hit by a drunk driver who ignored the stop sign at the end of a highway entrance ramp. By the time paramedics came to cut him out of his brand new Ford Thunderbird, he was halfway covered in third degree burns and his legs were completely mangled. This man would never fly--or walk--again. He recovered eventually, but he was never quite the same again.
With the father, a decorated WWII pilot and airline pilot, now reduced to an unemployable cripple, the responsibility of putting food on the table and keeping the bills paid fell to the rest of the family. His mother got hired as a switchboard operator, the twins both found work at a typewriter pool, and Joe was working whatever part-time jobs he could find as soon as he was old enough.
Joe met the love of his life, Margaret Henderson, in 1970 while working as a milkman. She was a lonely military wife with a husband that hasn't been home in two years, and he was an eighteen-year-old fresh out of high school delivering milk to her house every day. It's that simple.
- 2x Mk. 10 GMLS carrying Typhon-LR, RoF is improved to 15s between missile salvos.
- 4x Mk. 13 GMLS carrying Typhon-MR
- 1x ASROC "pepperbox" launcher
- 2x Mk. 32 triple torpedo tube mounts
- Helicopter facilities with room for two DASH ASW helicopter drones.
Speed: 32kt
Flotilla Mates: USS John Basilone and USS Edwin J. Hill
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SeismicGuide
The Quakiest of Quakebotes
- Location
- A usually Warm, Southern state of the US
@Librarian If you want, you can find us via the discord link, unless you already have and I haven't noticed.
Halibut (Wave pending)
NeonLights
Formerly Reliable_2IC
- Location
- In shambles
Ship name: USS Halibut (SSGN-587)
Class name: USS Halibut (SSGN-587)
Appearance:
Personality:
+Incredibly patient
+Flexible outlook and demeanor
+Meticulously frugal and efficient
+/-Overachiever
-Contemplative to the point of introversion
-Able to enjoy the company of others, but more often prefers to be alone
-Deathly afraid of being compromised by any definition of the word
Quirks/Habits:
-Enjoys trespassing into scenic places and spending time there undetected
-Enjoys trespassing in general
-Good at keeping secrets
-Knows a few tricks on traveling incognito
Memories: Same as the OTL Halibut, but the last mission undertaken was the assignment to a Cold War covert intelligence program designed to examine the psychic potential of deep sea creatures
Armaments:
1 Regulus missile launcher (5 x Regulus I or 2 x Regulus II missiles) [Capability decommissioned as part of experiment to ensure animals did not detect hostile intent]
6 × 21 inch (533 mm) torpedo tubes (four forward, two aft) [Left unloaded as part of experiment to ensure animals did not detect hostile intent]
1 12-man squadron of Navy Seals with access to an eclectic assortment of gear
Armor: (If not a paper ship)
Submergence and a prayer
Speed:
(28/37 km/h)
(surfaced/submerged)
Submarine trait: Tactile Hallucination : Constantly feels as if submerged underwater, regardless of location
Class name: USS Halibut (SSGN-587)
Appearance:
Personality:
+Incredibly patient
+Flexible outlook and demeanor
+Meticulously frugal and efficient
+/-Overachiever
-Contemplative to the point of introversion
-Able to enjoy the company of others, but more often prefers to be alone
-Deathly afraid of being compromised by any definition of the word
Quirks/Habits:
-Enjoys trespassing into scenic places and spending time there undetected
-Enjoys trespassing in general
-Good at keeping secrets
-Knows a few tricks on traveling incognito
Memories: Same as the OTL Halibut, but the last mission undertaken was the assignment to a Cold War covert intelligence program designed to examine the psychic potential of deep sea creatures
Armaments:
1 Regulus missile launcher (5 x Regulus I or 2 x Regulus II missiles) [Capability decommissioned as part of experiment to ensure animals did not detect hostile intent]
6 × 21 inch (533 mm) torpedo tubes (four forward, two aft) [Left unloaded as part of experiment to ensure animals did not detect hostile intent]
1 12-man squadron of Navy Seals with access to an eclectic assortment of gear
Armor: (If not a paper ship)
Submergence and a prayer
Speed:
(28/37 km/h)
(surfaced/submerged)
Submarine trait: Tactile Hallucination : Constantly feels as if submerged underwater, regardless of location
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72 (Pending wave)
Sketchy Lurker
Your guardian angle.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Name: Kai Smithson
Ship name: B-72
Class name: Project 412
Appearance:
Personality:
B-72 is incredibly mothery to her "babies," as she calls them, and will happily extend that to others she gets to know. She's not fond of combat, but she'll do what she has to to make sure everyone is safe, whenever she can. She's the self-sacrificing sort, willing to do almost anything for the people she cares about
Quirks/Habits:
She's been known to hum random songs both in and out of the water, and... occasionally forgets she's on radio when she does so. She swears a lot more than most people would expect, given her appearance. She's made a habit of modeling whatever clothes strike her fancy around the base, claiming that "fashion is good for the soul!"
Bio: A lonely gay from Ohio, Kai didn't have much going for them growing up. Just enough intelligence to get in trouble, but not enough to coast on forever left them in a bad position when it came to college. They've been coasting on for a while, but really aren't happy. With their place, with their job, with their body... They slipped one day looking for shredded cheese in the fridge, hitting their head, and... suddenly had a lot more interest in the Motherland...
Armaments:
3x 2M-8 twin mounted 25mm/79 110-PM antiaircraft guns
Yes that's literally it
6x Project 411-B Mini submarines
Individual armament:
2x 450mm 45/36-N Submarine torpedoes (Modified from Novik-class destroyers)
OR
2x mines
Armor: She's a submarine. Tin can.
Speed:
B-72:
Surfaced: 12.5 kts
Submerged: 5 kts
Project 411-Bs:
Surfaced: 7.5 kts
Submerged: 6.6 kts
Submarine traits: Nearsighted, right eye. A significant visual impairment in her right eye. She could wear some powerful glasses to try to deal with it... or just a monocle.
Ship name: B-72
Class name: Project 412
Appearance:
Personality:
B-72 is incredibly mothery to her "babies," as she calls them, and will happily extend that to others she gets to know. She's not fond of combat, but she'll do what she has to to make sure everyone is safe, whenever she can. She's the self-sacrificing sort, willing to do almost anything for the people she cares about
Quirks/Habits:
She's been known to hum random songs both in and out of the water, and... occasionally forgets she's on radio when she does so. She swears a lot more than most people would expect, given her appearance. She's made a habit of modeling whatever clothes strike her fancy around the base, claiming that "fashion is good for the soul!"
Bio: A lonely gay from Ohio, Kai didn't have much going for them growing up. Just enough intelligence to get in trouble, but not enough to coast on forever left them in a bad position when it came to college. They've been coasting on for a while, but really aren't happy. With their place, with their job, with their body... They slipped one day looking for shredded cheese in the fridge, hitting their head, and... suddenly had a lot more interest in the Motherland...
Armaments:
3x 2M-8 twin mounted 25mm/79 110-PM antiaircraft guns
Yes that's literally it
6x Project 411-B Mini submarines
Individual armament:
2x 450mm 45/36-N Submarine torpedoes (Modified from Novik-class destroyers)
OR
2x mines
Armor: She's a submarine. Tin can.
Speed:
B-72:
Surfaced: 12.5 kts
Submerged: 5 kts
Project 411-Bs:
Surfaced: 7.5 kts
Submerged: 6.6 kts
Submarine traits: Nearsighted, right eye. A significant visual impairment in her right eye. She could wear some powerful glasses to try to deal with it... or just a monocle.
Last edited:
IC Link
SeismicGuide
The Quakiest of Quakebotes
- Location
- A usually Warm, Southern state of the US
Whoops! Here's the IC!
forums.sufficientvelocity.com
Also, technically open still.
Shadowed Memoria III: The Revenge of The Ship IC
Several voices come out of the void, several different timelines and times, all merging together. "Foolish American's, Thinking themselves so high and mighty, wait until we crush them at the decisive battle." "Come on! Come on! I'm trying to hold myself together until we get to port...
forums.sufficientvelocity.com
Also, technically open still.
- Location
- USA
Ship name:
USS Ausubel
Class name:
Alternate History Gato-Class
Appearance:
Black hair, turning white at the roots, drapes down past Ausubel's shoulders. Her eyes are a pale yellow and a pair of antennas shoot out from the top of her head, adding around six inches to her 5'6" frame.
Rigging-wise, six of Ausubel's torpedo tubes are strapped to her left forearm. The remaining four are positioned on hip-mounts facing backwards. A revolver sits holstered next to the torpedo tubes. Her right arm has two blades attached at the forearm, which together give off the appearance of a giant claw.
Personality:
Ausubel has an almost crippling fear of pain, a distrust towards most social interactions, and a distaste towards loud sounds. When she does find herself in social situations, she does her best to avoid speaking. That said, if she is ever roped into a conversation, she'll do her absolute best to endear herself to those listening, even if it means completely altering her identity.
Under the cover of darkness, however, Ausubel is almost an entirely different submarine. In the dark, her eyesight is no longer an impairment and her superb hearing can shine through. Her fear of pain becomes more manageable and she is more willing to engage in combat.
Quirks/Habits:
Soft-Shelled: Prone to diving under the slightest possibility of combat/conflict.
Mixed Signals: Her antennas twitch both when she is nervous and when she is excited.
Under Pressure: Has a tendency to let out a nervous chuckle when attacking.
Survival Instinct: Always attempts to position herself so that she can "see" all the people at a social gathering, regardless of whether or not she is directly interacting with them.
Whispers in the Deep: When things get too quite, Ausubel begins to mutter to herself. The coherency of her mutterings varies.
Deep-Sea Denizen: The darker the environment, the more confident Ausubel is.
History:
TBA
Armaments:
10 × 21-inch (533 mm) torpedo tubes
6 forward, 4 aft
1 × 3-inch (76 mm) deck gun
1 x Bofors 40 mm
1 x Oerlikon 20 mm cannon
Armor:
Light
Speed:
21 knots surfaced
9 knots submerged
Submarine traits:
Essentially blind.
Excellent (and sensitive) hearing.
USS Ausubel
Class name:
Alternate History Gato-Class
Appearance:
Black hair, turning white at the roots, drapes down past Ausubel's shoulders. Her eyes are a pale yellow and a pair of antennas shoot out from the top of her head, adding around six inches to her 5'6" frame.
Rigging-wise, six of Ausubel's torpedo tubes are strapped to her left forearm. The remaining four are positioned on hip-mounts facing backwards. A revolver sits holstered next to the torpedo tubes. Her right arm has two blades attached at the forearm, which together give off the appearance of a giant claw.
Personality:
Ausubel has an almost crippling fear of pain, a distrust towards most social interactions, and a distaste towards loud sounds. When she does find herself in social situations, she does her best to avoid speaking. That said, if she is ever roped into a conversation, she'll do her absolute best to endear herself to those listening, even if it means completely altering her identity.
Under the cover of darkness, however, Ausubel is almost an entirely different submarine. In the dark, her eyesight is no longer an impairment and her superb hearing can shine through. Her fear of pain becomes more manageable and she is more willing to engage in combat.
Quirks/Habits:
Soft-Shelled: Prone to diving under the slightest possibility of combat/conflict.
Mixed Signals: Her antennas twitch both when she is nervous and when she is excited.
Under Pressure: Has a tendency to let out a nervous chuckle when attacking.
Survival Instinct: Always attempts to position herself so that she can "see" all the people at a social gathering, regardless of whether or not she is directly interacting with them.
Whispers in the Deep: When things get too quite, Ausubel begins to mutter to herself. The coherency of her mutterings varies.
Deep-Sea Denizen: The darker the environment, the more confident Ausubel is.
History:
TBA
Armaments:
10 × 21-inch (533 mm) torpedo tubes
6 forward, 4 aft
1 × 3-inch (76 mm) deck gun
1 x Bofors 40 mm
1 x Oerlikon 20 mm cannon
Armor:
Light
Speed:
21 knots surfaced
9 knots submerged
Submarine traits:
Essentially blind.
Excellent (and sensitive) hearing.