Harry Potter & the Shipgirls

[darthcourt10]

Weaver

A/N: Inspiration stuck so I wrote. Am not entirely happy with the result, mostly because I had to leave some things vague due to having insufficient familiarity with RN command structure to know who'd be in charge of a small but still important base.
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Another day, another summoning and as always everyone present was hoping but not really expecting that this would be the one that broke the "curse" the base had and got them something bigger than a frigate.

The first sign they had that things weren't going to go as usual was when the vanishing of the summoning materials was swiftly followed by a voice speaking up from the summoning pool.

"What the hell?"

The girl who'd spoken was (yet another) frigate and looked even more bewildered than new summons usually did. Noticing the officer looking at her she blushed before hastily saluting.

"Apology for my outburst sir. I was taken by surprise and forget myself for a moment since the last I remember I was at sea. HMS Plym at your service."

As soon as she identified herself a number of those present visibly stiffened, their faces paling as a sharper and more immediate version of the dread that some of them had felt every time there had been an Abyssal attack before the nearby power station had been decommissioned settled in their stomachs. The senior officer present found his tongue first.

"HMS Plym."

"Yes sir?"

"Do you remember where you were before you arrived here?"

"Yes sir, Monte Bello sir."

"Is what was inside your hull at Monte Bello still there?"

Something in the frigate's expression and posture tightened.

"Yes sir."

"Is it going to go off?"

There was a fraction of a second's pause that seemed to go on forever before Plym relaxed ever so slightly.

"No sir. It's been deactivated."

The relief that followed that statement was palpable as everyone in the room who knew about HMS Plym started breathing again.

The commanding officer gave orders that the frigate was to be made comfortable and have the current situation explained to her but that she wasn't allowed out of the building and was to remain under supervision at all times, along with informing everyone that what had happened was not to leave the room until further notice. Then he hurried to his office. He had some urgent phonecalls to make.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Standing in front of the crowd of people, the young woman clapped her hands as in the distance loud music could be heard. The source of which was Alderney Landing which was having a public concert. "Welcome, everyone to this tour of the Dartmouth Marine Slips. I hope that you have all been enjoying the Natal Day Weekend celebrations and want to thank you for coming. Now, due to the activity here this is only a short tour and we won't be entering any work areas. If you'll follow me?" As they did so, she continued. "Now, the Dartmouth Marine Slips are quite old and were constructed in 1859. They used the Chebucto Marine Railway here to haul ships up out of the water for repairs. There was also the fact that Dartmouth Cove, where the Marine Slips sit, was one end of the Shubenacadie Canal so it would serve any ships needing it that came through."

One of the people there, an older woman, raised her hand. "So it was used by the Royal Navy back then?"

Nodding, the guide hummed some. "As a matter of fact, yes. An interesting fact though was that the facility was also used during the American Civil War by blockade runners repairing their vessels here in Halifax for the duration of the war. But the heaviest use was during the Second World War with the Battle of the Atlantic. During that time, the facility worked around the clock, twenty four seven to repair Merchant Marine vessels as well as Naval Escorts. In fact, the Flower class Corvettes were often here." Gesturing behind her, she shook her head. "And as you can see, those of us here at the Dartmouth Marine Slips have continued that. Behind me is the HMS Robin, one of the Royal Navy's current Black Swan class Sloops, which is being repaired from minor damage due to an Abyssal attack on a convoy."

For several minutes she continued with the history before pointing at a teenaged boy there. "I got a question for you. Mom said that this place closed years ago, but was bought back? Is that true?"

With a sigh, the guide nodded. "Sadly yes. Irving bought the Marine Slips back in the 1990s. Despite it working well for smaller ships and to service the oil rigs, Irving closed the facility in 2003 and sold the land to a real estate developer. From what I have been told, he was going to develop it into condos and a marina. At the time it was rather controversial due to events happening out on the sea. The damages ships took and disappearances."

One of the men snorted some. "You mean the Abyssals."

After a moment, she gave a nod. "Yes, the Abyssals. Of course, thankfully, no work had been done on the land and the facility was still here in 2005 when Blood Week occurred. The Government of Canada then nationalized the land and handed it over to the Royal Canadian Navy as a repair facility. It was needed after all, what with the damage that the Irving Shipyard here in Halifax took. Since then, it had operated as part of CFB Halifax here on the Dartmouth side, servicing smaller ships such as the Black Swan, LCS, the few remaining Kingston class, and the Orca class patrol boats to name a few."

The tour continued for a couple of minutes before one of the kids noticed a worker coming towards them and his eyes widened. Said worker, besides the normal work clothes, goggles, and overalls had something a bit extra. There was some strange thing on him that included metal struts that ran along his legs as well as a heavy harness. But it was the odd metal arm holding a large device not unlike the Jaws of Life rescue workers used that caught the kid's attention. "Wow...'

Lips twitching, the guide turned to the man and gestured at him. "Everyone? This is Aaron and he's one of the workers here at the Marine Slips. He's taking some time to come over here and meet with us to show off some of the new ways that we're working here."

Waving, he chuckled a bit at the various looks he was getting. "Hello, everyone. Hopefully you're enjoying the tour."

Various replies met him as the people were looking curiously at him. One of the teens in the back raised their hand. "What the heck are you wearing?"

A grin on his face, Aaron crossed his arms and shook his head. "This? I'm wearing one of the industrial exoskeletons that us workers here at the Slips use to do work here. It helps us with the more heavy tools."

One of the young boys there widened his eyes. "Exoskeleton? You mean like with Iron Man!" Expression brightening he looked at his mother. "That is so cool!"

Chuckling Aaron shook his head. "Not quite like Iron Man, though it is pretty cool. For one thing, the exoskeleton is not made for combat. Another is that it is not powered at all, which helps out."

More then a little confused, a young woman raised her hand. "Wait, not powered? How does it work then?"

In reply, the worker took the tool in both hands and moved it, and the metal arm it was attached to above his head. More then one eye widened at that as various adults knew how heavy a tool like that was. For the kids though, it just looked cool. Chuckling, Aaron shot the kids a grin. "A good question, the exoskeleton works by having the structure that you can see take the weight of the heavy industrial tools we use and distribute it evenly across it and then into the ground. What that means is that we can use the tools for a lot longer without needing to take a rest then normal."

Beside him, the guide nodded and gestured as Aaron went into a kneeling pose with the tool held above his head. "Normally, a human can only hold a tool like what you see in front of you for a few minutes in the way he is doing so right now. At best. Five minutes is the average for the strongest workers here. With the exoskeleton assisting them? That can be extended to twenty, thirty minutes or even more. It goes without saying that makes things much more efficient here." Curling her lips, she gestured to the side. "Which is not to say that we don't have powered exoskeletons here, as Rebecca shows."

Almost as one, the crowd turned and gained looks of surprise as a somewhat small woman walked into view with a much bulkier suit then Aaron's. In her case, the various struts and such extended up and over her shoulders with what looked like a battery pack on her back with wires extending from it. But what really caught their attention was how she was holding a chunk of metal that was as long as she was tall and as wide as her body. There was a chain of sorts from one of the struts over her head to the chunk of metal and more then one noticed that a magnet was at the end of the chain. Smiling, Rebecca gave them all a nod. "Hello, everyone. Welcome to the Marine Slips."

Rather amused as people were taking pictures and video of this small woman handling a hunk of metal that even the strongest of men would have had trouble with instead easily, the guide nodded. "Rebecca here is using one of the powered exoskeleton suits that have recently come into use here. As one can see, it is too bulky for true military work and the battery pack she is using lasts about five hours. But it allows for her to carry about sixty kilograms with general ease. Within a few years, we hope to have these capable of handling up to a hundred kilograms."

Both Aaron and Rebecca smiled for the crowd and went into various poses with their exoskeletons. Once the tour group was gone though, Aaron looked around and looked at the guide. "Uh, Amber? Can I ask you something?"

Taking a sip of water from a bottle, Amber raised an eyebrow at him and Rebecca. "If it is about showing off, the bosses cleared it. They want to show off the exoskeletons."

Only shaking his head, Aaron dropped his voice some. "Actually? Its about the MP over in the warehouse, in the corner. Do you have any idea what is under that tarp he's guarding next to that pile of sheet metal and what looks like bricks and mortar? Every time I go past I swear that every hair on my body is standing on end."

Glancing in the direction of the warehouse, Amber leaned towards him. "No, not a clue. All I know is that I've been told it is safe and is for some sort of special project that we'll know the result of soon enough. But seeing as he's got a rifle and does not look like he'll take any crap? I'm not asking too many questions."

With a shared look, Aaron and Rebecca just gave a nod. It was not the first time that they had to deal with secret, military shit after all. Instead, they decided to get ready for the next tour.

Over on Citadel Hill, one of the reenactors walked forward while a crowd watched to one of the cannons on the fort. With great gravitas, he ignited the fuse and there was a loud boom that echoed as the noontime cannon was fired. A small smile was on his face at the claps he got as well as the sight that he could barely see of various people out and about as the town clock continued to tick at the bottom of the hill.

Meanwhile, in Sackville in a hidden area containing a stadium, another event was happening. Various wizards and witches of all ages as well as some non-humans were gathered as two teams walked onto the field. In the announcement booth, one of the two men gathered as the radio sounded off with a boom. "And there is the Noontime Cannon over on Citadel Hill. I'm Greg Smith and here with me is my fellow announcer, Hal Whynacht."

Hal gave a chuckle. "Good to see you again, Greg. And also good to see everyone here on a wonderful Natal Day, 2013. Welcome to the first Quidditch Game of the Natal Day Weekend. We'll be having games all weekend here at Nor'Easter Stadium. And our first game of the event is going to be one heck of a doozie."

Laughing, Greg only shook his head. "That is putting it mildly, Hal. We got the Halifax Nor'Easters against the Saint John Sea Serpents. Only way it could be worse is if it was against the Moncton Whoopers."

Just shaking his head, Hal snorted. "No, that's on Sunday and no doubt it will be brutal when the two meet on the field as per usual. Expect a lot of fouls coming from both Whoopers and Nor'Easters. But the Whoopers will be playing, hopefully, later in the evening against the Montreal Windigos. Ah, and there they go, the game is about to start and the Captains are about to kick off the match. Before they do, we would like to thank one of our sponsors for the events here, Prop's Magical Brewery located in New Minas. Remember, if it's not Prop's, its just slop. If you are legal age, they have a stand here in the Stadium for when you're thirsty. And we have the Captain's shaking hands and... they're off!"

Several moments later cheers and jeers could be heard as the two Maritime teams collided in the match.

Out on the water, two Schooners entered the harbour. Standing on the spar of one of them was a young girl with a pipe in her mouth and a smile. On her decks, various shades made their way here and there while she adjusted her hat. Lightly laughing, she glanced at the other Schooner which was near identical. Besides the fact that the other ship had human crew, another difference was that the girl on the spar there was ghostly. "You seem to be enjoying yourself, m'dear!"

The ghostly girl only giggled some and adjusted her own hat. Somehow, despite the distance the two could hear each other easily as if they were next to each other. "Of course, I am, Mom! Its a lovely day, my refit is all done, and I am back out on the water where I belong! Couldn't be better!"

Pulling the pipe from her mouth, Bluenose I just tapped it out with a small grin before winking at the Bluenose II. "And right you are, my daughter. Right you are!" Watching the approaching waterfront, the Schooner shipgirl only smiled. 'And as always, good to be home in Nova Scotia.'

At the Halifax Commons, the same Mi'kmaq man who had spoken to Miranda and John glanced up. Several seconds after, he smiled with his eyes twinkling before turning back to the group of children that were in front of him as the public concert continued not far off before he continued his tales. And in a small office in part of Halifax, John looked up as several instruments began to make noise and turned his attention on a map of Nova Scotia. There, centered on Halifax Harbor was what looked like a hurricane in miniature.

Rather then composed of storm clouds and rain though, this one was composed of magic and spiritual energy swirling inwards.

Beside John, a machine spat out paper even as the magical storm intensified. Glancing at the paper, he only nodded as it was to be expected with both Bluenoses there. One was Nova Scotia's sailing Ambassador and had been since the 1960s. More then that though was the original Bluenose having summoned her hull. After all, not only was she a symbol of Nova Scotia, but also Canada having her image stamped on the Dime. Turning back to his paperwork, he sipped his coffee with a smile. 'And this is only day one...'

 

[darthcourt10]

Robin_Goodfellow Omake: You dun fucked up.

Got inspired to write a bit of a snip by that latest bit.

------------------------------

In the depths of the Abyss, something stirred. The screams of dying Abyssals echoed faintly, accompanied by the return of their souls to the blackness that spawned them. As the shadow turned it's attention to the newly deceased, it made a movement that could be interpreted as a wince.

"All right, which one of you pissed off the Canadians?"

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K

A.N./ There's something I find entertaining about the fact that the Canadians are probably going to beat MACUSA with their big summoning project first, even if it is partly my fault for getting distracted with the AP2 snippets when I was originally planning to progress onto the next phase of the "Wizards can into shipgirl Ops" plot line.
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Mary woke up with a hangover.

This was a somewhat anomalous experiance, considering her rather venerable age.

It was also rather anomalous considering how long it had been since she had one this bad. Especially when one considered how hardy her constitution tended to be, even now.

Sitting up in bed slowly, Mary notes that she is fully clothed (suit, casual, must have literally fallen on top of the covers and passed out), and assess her current surroundings with a mild amount of analytical study (nomaj modern styling, simply but high class, mini-fridge and bed size suggest expensive hotel room).

No, she is definitely not confused. Just mildly uncertain.

And with some gaps in her memory.

Walking to a nearby curtain and pulling it open, Mary then glares back resolutely into the sunlight's own harsh glare that would cause most to flinch away. As her eyes last adjust, she then realizes she is looking out onto the Las Vegas Strip, with the front fountains for Bellagio across the road and a few stories below. Off in the distance, she can see the Flamingo, and the Eiffel Tower at the Paris as well.

Well, that confirms her suspicions then.

Frank's 'retirement party'.

The witch then stares out the window for a few moments longer, before something then occurs to her. What time is it? She and Howard may have thankfully wrapped up all their business in New York and Langly early, which was why they were able to make the party in the first place, but they were supposed to be Apparating up to San Francisco the next day, giving themselves a day to recover before taking the chain of Port-Keys back to Japan on Sunday evening.

Where is the old Swordsman anyway?

Turning back to her bed, Mary then notes a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water on the bedside table next to her watch. Retrieving the highly tricked out and modified magical chronometer and noting the time (1056 Hours), Mary then offers a prayer of thanks for Past-Mary's foresight to leave out a glass of water and painkillers for the morning.

Raising the glass to her lips, the witch then spittakes.

That's not water.

That's vodka.

Making a face, the veteran Auror puts the glass down with disgust. With no small amount of frustration, Mary curses Past-Mary before then shaking out the recommended dosage of pills and simply swallowing them dry.

The witch's next objective becomes exploration. Mostly likely in search of either some water, or one of the other fellow party-goers from last night. Hopefully somebody else still has their kit on them in their civvies, so she can wash the pills down with a universal poison remover potion or something.

Exiting her room, Mary then freezes in baffled astonishment at the sight that greets her in the main lounge-turned-party-area of the suite. It is as if someone has set off a bomb, filled with chaos personified.

The first and most noticeable aspect, is obviously the car. A rental, judging by the logo on what's left of the side, and with the roof and most of the doors shorn off as if it were driven underneath something it's driver misjudged the height of, and with fence posts stuck in the grill. Said driver is also apparently a rather portly, grandmotherly looking witch of similar age to Mary, 'asleep at the wheel' while Banned From Argo plays over the radio, and currently hip deep in papayas that fill what's left of the vehicle like a tub. Oblivious to the situation, the woman quietly snores on as Mary turns her attention to the rest of the aftereffects of the cyclonic revelry that seems to have swept the room.

On one of the back walls, someone seems to have magically enlarged a series of portraits and prints out of various figures from WWII. Hitler, Grindelwald, Mussolini, Tojo, Kamo. There's also a few allied figures, such as Fudge Senior.

All have become the subjects of some kind of target competition, to the degree that the heads of the images are barely recognizable from the accumulative damage. Idly, Mary catalogs the implements still present. Bowie knives, throwing daggers, stilettos, needles, a hand axe, a butter knife, some inventive soul has even managed to score an eye-shot on the elder Fudge with a spork.

On the other side of the room, Mary notes that the Jacuzzi is now full of bubbles and foam, creating a fluffy hell that has mostly consumed that corner of the lounge. Even through all the foam though, Mary is pretty sure she can make out the form of a store manikin dressed in Christmas lights and looking like it was set on fire at some point. Elsewhere, somebody has put a kiddy pool in the middle of the floor. Most likely it was originally filled with ice to keep drinks cool, with a few toy ships added in as a gag. Now there is a only a mostly deflated lump of plastic, barely containing the melt water and magical miniatures, that sail between the islands of undrunk cans.

Meanwhile, one of the couches has been almost entirely buried in the colorful plastic balls from a bouncy ball pit. Next to it, a table covered in knife marks and electrical burns is laden with duffel bags full of cash and poker chips, along with playing cards that lie scattered about the circumference of the table. A spread that suggests two of the players had begun brawling. And above it all, one of the suite's flat screen TVs sits slightly off kilter on the wall, rigged to a laptop streaming a Japanese yokai MMA tournament off of a dark web based streaming site for magicals.

In the kitchen, Mary discovers a chicken with a tiny sombrero on it's head, clucking away and starring at her gormlessly from among the forest of bottles, cans and cups that cover almost every inch of space on the counter. Beer, whisky, firewhisky, tequila, rum, Victory Gin, mead, jaeger, Glen McKenna scotch. There's even a bottle of absinthe.

Examining the latter, curiously, Mary then makes a face.

Make that a mostly empty bottle of absinthe.

Opening the fridge out of curiosity, Mary then finds the entire thing to be full of a dead pig, dressed up in a a way that can only be described as 'chic gay-sailor'.

For the sake of her sanity, Mary then closes the fridge and grabs a nearby solo-cup from the counter-top. Not trusting the taps after the chaos that seems like it was wreaked by aurors acting quarter of the average age of the participants from last night's party, Mary instead settles for scourgify'ing the cup, and then casting aguamenti. Her thirst quenched, Mary continues her investigation of the trail of destruction.

What the hell did they get up to last night? This was supposed to be a glorified farewell party/preemptive wake for old friends and comrades.

Then again, this was Woodsman who was supposed to be one of the stars of the show.

Before her pondering of the accumulative detritus of the night can continue, Mary is then interrupted by the opening of the Hotel suite door.

For a moment the witch freezes, hangover forgotten while her sakaki and dragon tail-bone wand finds itself transitioning with a flick from wrist-holster to hand. Held at the ready in case it is the nomaj room service who has unwittingly stumbled in the aftermath of the magical veterans party.

To her surprise, the face that greets the elder witch is that of easily the youngest member of the party who ended up getting roped into coming.

Last night, Kisei had looked ecstatic at the blanket invitation from Frank to Howard, telling him to bring along his young protege anyway, rather than making the girl spend a boring night waiting for them in San Francisco on her own. Now the young agent, previously over the moon at an opportunity to meet so many past or semi-retired legends of the Magical Investigation Bureau and veterans of most of the conflicts of the last 80 years, looks very different.

Mortification seems to be her main expression upon being caught by Mary, along with a deeply pained regret towards the universe and existence. No doubt the signs of youthful underestimation about just how hard even 'ancient foogies' can party when enough of the old gang are together that they forget how old they are. Alternately, it might also have something to do with how awkwardly she's attempting to sneak into the room.

Time for the patented 'Inquiring Mother Pose #3?'

a.k.a. crossed arms, unreadable gaze and a curiously raised eyebrow.

"Kisei?"

"M-Mrs Maleficus?"

"What are you doing?"

The younger witch shifts awkwardly at the question. Looking her up and down more carefully, Mary notes the absence of Kisei's shoes and the generally dishevelled state of her clothing.

"Oh. The shipgirl from the bar last night?"

The younger witch turns red with embarrassment at being caught out on her walk of shame.

"Look, can I come in? I just want to find a bed and sleep. Or maybe just a nice corner to curl up and die in until this headache goes away."

Wordlessly, Mary steps aside, and gestures for her to enter, which Kisei then gratefully does with a strangely awkward shuffle. Then she freezes when she sees the state of the hotel suite, and looks to the older witch with baffled incredulity.

"What the- what happened last night?"

"A Frank Woods party for veterans did apparently," offers the witch, before giving her old partner's protege and her odd shuffle an assessing look. "Speaking of which, are you okay? You didn't fall or anything did you?"

Somehow the younger witch manages to turn an even brighter shade of red, and mumble something under her breath.

"Kisei?"

The aforementioned witch looks like she would prefer nothingless than to have an invisibility cloak on at that moment. "You know how we thought that shipgirl was magical and following us around?"

"Yes?"

"Apparently she wasn't teleporting." Kisei shifts awkwardly. "She just has a twin sister-ship."

Wryly, Mary raises an eyebrow. "Well. As far as I know, I don't think your grandfather ever managed twins in any of his conquests."

"I don't think he ever almost broke his pelvis either," Kisei mutters to herself, now redder than a cherry as she looks at Mary uncertainly. "Also, please don't tell anyone about this...."

The older witch just chuckles and gives the younger a comforting clap on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't. Now go take a shower, trust me, you'll probably feel better after."

"Thanks." As Kisei shuffles away, the noise of an opening door makes Mary turn around curiously.

One of the suite's other bedrooms has opened, disgorging a small avalanche of balloons, along with a bushy mustachioed wizard sporting a Union Jack messily magically painted on his dress shirt in shades of ketchup, mayonnaise and blueberries. The British wizard, and long time ally who was once a regular to be stumbled across in the field when alphabet soups overlapped, now stares in disbelief and no small amount of awe at the state of the rest of the Suite.

Ever the image of implacable, Mary raises an stares back from the otherside of the devastated room. "Good morning Price."

The Brit just stares, mildly slack-jawed until he finally finds his tongue.

"Bloody hell. It must 'ave been a damn good send off last night then."

The witch grimaces. "Considering I haven't been convinced-slash-guilted into drinking like that for a friend in a very, very long time, I would say so."

Before Price can respond, a terrified shriek interrupts him. As both witch and wizard spin around, wands at the ready, Kisei tumbles out of the suite's bathroom in a whirlwind panic. Pulling the door shut behind herself and locking it with a spell, she then trips over a small mountain of empty cans while stumbling backwards. In shock, she then looks up at the older veterans from the ground.

"There's a wampus cat in the bathroom!"

"What?!" is Mary's eloquent response.

"It's huge! It's the size of a cougar!"

"How did a bloody wampus end up in the 'effing bathroom?!" asks Price in confusion.

Awoken by the clatter of cans and the shouting, the portly witch in the destroyed rental ceases her snoring with a jerk of surprise, and then looks around in baffled shock. Realizing her automotive predicament and the fruit stall's worth of papayas she has fallen asleep up to the waist in, the ex-Mediwitch groans in resigned frustration.

"God damn it! It still happens! This is the last time I drink with any of you!"

As if summoned by the long since retired Hydra's frustration, someone abruptly sits upright on the ball covered couch, causing a small avalanche of colourful plastic orbs. "I'M UP! DON'T WORRY, I'M.... up?"

In confusion the now revealed Swordsman glances around, before comprehension at last begins to dawn on his face.

"Damnit Frank!"

Between Price starring incredulously at the sombrero wearing chicken in the kitchen, Hydra espousing some rather ungrandmotherly language as she attempts to extract herself from Papaya hell, and Kisei still gibbering about one of the tamer things to ever turn up at a MIA retirement party, Mary decides that her fellow veteran of Tokyo Station is the best candidate for reasonable conversation. After that time with the Nundu and the hot spring, most things tended to feel rather tame in comparison.

"So, Howard. What do you remember of last night?"

Freeing himself from his multi-color prison with a cascading waterfall of balls, the wizard grimaces. "In summary? Words to the effect of "fuck" and "all". What about you?"

Mary frowns deeply as she fills a nearby solo cup with water via another aguamenti, and offers it to the grateful Swordsman.

"I remember Frank badgering me into keeping up with the rest of the party when I honestly should have stopped, as one last favor to him." The witches expression then turns into a pained grimace. "And then after that, there's a lot of black."

Mary pauses uncertainly. "Was I.... talking to somebody from Europe last night?"

"Well, one of the few things I do remember, was Frank getting the bartender to load you up with Screaming Vikings until you started talking in icelandic or danish or something."

The witch grimaces. That wasn't something she'd done in a while, i.e. a decade or two. Or required no small amount of alcohol for her to lapse into. "I suppose that explains the severity of my hangover."

"Oi!" From the side of the room, Price adds his two cents. "I think I remember that being just before we started doing shots of firewhisky. Then I think we all buggered off to go play craps."

"Well lucky you," grumbles Hydra as she finally extracts herself from the fruit laden car. "I don't even remember us leaving the room last night."

Quietly, Mary facepalms. "Frank up to his old tricks I suppose. Instant blackout with baffling aftermath everyone was apparently talked into doing while drunk, just add Woodsman." The witch then frowns as something occurs to her. "Where the hell is Frank anyway?"

"Bloody right, where the hell is he. Just because he's in a wheelchair doesn't mean I can't kick his arse."

Glancing around the room curiously, Swordsman also looks increasingly torn between mild confusion and worry. "Actually, where the hell is everyone else in general? There were like twenty of us last night. I hope we didn't loose anyone casino-crawling across the Strip or something."

Noticing the youngest member of there current group gazing at them uncertainly out of the corner of her eye, Mary's attention then fixates the least experienced agent in the room.

"Kisei?" The aforementioned witch shifts awkwardly as the rest of the veterans look to her curiously as well. "What's going on?"

"Are those things really the only events you can remember?"

Mary nods, the others generally following suit in agreement. "At least with any clear detail, or confidence in place and time."

"Ah.... well....." The younger Auror trails off, not quite sure how to break the revelation she knows. "The thing is.... That was all stuff from the day before yesterday. The first day of the party."

The geriatrics are silent for a moment, before Hydra finally voices the through the that's on everyone's lips.

".... what?"

Kisei cringes. "Today is Sunday, not Saturday. Nobody else is here, because Mr Woods somehow convinced everyone who didn't need to leave, to keep on partying right up until he finally had to go himself. And then for a few hours after as well to be honest. A lot of the others only really started to go home last night."

After a few moments, the silence breaks.

"God damnit Frank!"

"That fookin tosser!"

"Damnit, not even the Raiders were this bad."

Unlike the others however, Mary starts to chuckle, causing Howard to look at her curiously.

"Mary?"

Shaking her head, the witch at last gives a resignedly bemused smile.

"Isn't that Woodsman to a T. Escalating a mess he roped everyone else into, and then taking off for the next big adventure before the rest of us can even finish cleaning up the mess he and Mason left behind."

The MIB Station Chief can't help but give a snort of his own and a roll of his eyes. "Just like old times then." Blinking for a moment, the wizard then swears.

"What's wrong?" asks Mary curiously.

"What time is it?"

"After 1100 hours now. Why?"

Facepalming, Howard then gestures around at the devastated hotel room. "He just pulled the ultimate case of stiffing us with the clean up job, hotel bill, and tabs."

"How do you reckon that?"

"Because if it's after 11 on Sunday, then the fucker is probably already dead."
--------------------

"Holy shit, that sucked."

For the first time in the nigh on eight years since Blood Week, the veteran MACUSA special operative finds himself able to stand on his own two feet.

On the other hand though, he is also now only a few inches tall, and his statement comes out sounding a lot more like "Hey-hey hey hey."

But then on the brightside once again, he feels almost in the prime of his youth once more.

Wins and losses he supposes.

Looking around, Frank then takes stock of his current situation. Currently he is only a few inches tall and sitting on the shoulder of a young woman. Said young woman can acurately be described with the adjectives of 'blonde', 'stacked', 'American beauty' and 'obviously a battleship'. Said battleship is also currently standing in a summoning pool in front of a group of other shipgirls and a vaguely photogenic looking admiral, as a band plays in the background.

All this, Frank sees with his eyes. And then Frank calls upon his decades of experiance as one of MIB's best field operatives, and sees. The world around them is a liquid filled tank.

An almost empty, coffin-like bath with an observation window in the top, through which robed figures peer in carefully at the coalescing magical presence being summoned into the shape of the shipgirl in a self-fulfilling dream being crafted for her. Some of the robed shapes take notes. Others cast spells, making minor adjustments to the contents of the bath and it's subject. Others weave and orchestrate, playing the parts of maestros and puppeteers for the world of the dreamer they easing her into, in preparation for the real world.

For a brief moment, Frank offers a tiny thumbs up.

And then he closes his eyes once more, back to the dreamer's summoning circle and the shoulder of the shipgirl he is riding on.

16"/45 caliber Mark 6 guns in a 3 Nelson-style 'all forward' arrangement gleam in the lights cast on the pool. Mark 12 5"/38 guns swivel in unique triple turrets. Toned, stocking covered legs hint at machinery capable of generating 185,000 horsepower and propelling her to 30.5 knots on four shafts, while her build also suggests a toughness inherent with having 17 inches of main belt armor beneath her delicate ivory skin and crisp white uniform. Though bigger than the within treaty limits battleship which would eventually be built from the preliminary design project that spawned her basic schematics, the blonde still moves and strikes a pose with a powerful grace and beauty that almost seems to have something magical about it.

Flicking her hair over her shoulder, the battleship grins and salutes to the vaguely generic figures watching the dreamscape summoning circle.

"USS Frankland, reporting for duty!"

Even within the coffin-like bath and drawn into the nascent Frankland's dream, Frank can hear the cheers from outside.

It's time to build themselves a battleship.

Already though, he can also feel other distant tenuous connections formulating as well.

Today it's the flagship. Soon they shall also have the fleet to accompany her.

 

[darthcourt10]

Dances in Shadows

------------------------------------------
Dungeons and Dragons and Shipgirls
------------------------------------------
Part 2. Learning Curve
------------------------------------------

Throm Bloodbane was in high spirits as he marched along that summer morning. A multitude of things went threw his mind as his stalwart band advanced along the trail. A yearning for battle against worthy foes so that he could prove his might. A thirst for an adventure that tavern minstrels would sing about for ages to come. A lust for gold both shiny and plentiful so that he might buy himself an abundance of ale later on. Certain desires for his fellow adventurers both beautiful and talented. But mostly what went threw his mind that day was the business end of an orc's spear as it tore threw his skull.

"....desu?....DESU!?"

The barbarian looked up in disbelief. A quick glance to his side revealed a similar look of astonishment on the wizard and rogues face. The cleric meanwhile, was doing his best not to laugh. With a sigh the barbarian gave his loudest "HURK" before dramatically falling over onto his back, tongue sticking out.

"I TOOK HOW MUCH FUCKING DAMAGE?! DID YOU SERIOUSLY JUST YAMCHA ME?! I HAVN'T EVEN PULLED MY GOD DAMN DICE OUT YET!"

a small shuffling noise was heard as the barbarian rolled over and assumed a more appropriate death pose.

"First you all failed your spot checks..."

"What spot check? I. Haven't. Pulled. My. Dice. Out. Yet."

"The DM can make spot checks for you as they are a subconscious action, search checks however are always yours to roll. SECOND he rolled a twenty to hit, rolled just shy of max damage and with the spears times three multiplayer, that's thirty three damage to your sixteen hit points. Third..pull your dice out already."

"......."

Glaring at Ooyodo, Tenryuu reaches down to her side before lifting up a small Crown Royal bag and pouring out a set of royal purple dice.

"Granted...getting killed in the surprise round of the first combat isn't exactly fair...And the rules DO allow me to cheat to keep the game going so........ lets say Throm is unconscious and..."

The clatter of dice being rolled can be heard behind the DM screen.

"Has lost an eye? Yes. The spear while accurately thrown, lacked the momentum to go much further than piercing the eye. You pass out from the shock and will loose the...."

Another roll of the dice can be heard.

"...left eye"

"....I can live with that"


---Some Time Later---

His outfit removed and set off to the side Nagato's wizard raised a miniature mug up for a toast.

"Desu!"

"Desu!" "Desu!" "Desu!" Came the replies from his fellow party members before downing the fire whiskey Junyou had provided them. After their disastrous first encounter things had gone much smoother. Monsters had been slain and treasures found, but now it was time for a break.

Setting a slice of pizza down for the crewmen to eat Naka looked over at their dungeon master.

"So where did you get that D20 from anyways? It looks like its made of stone?"

Putting down her coffee and picking up the green stone die in question, Ooyodo's eyebrow twitched slightly as she responded.

"Amisi actually. She saw the dice I had ordered and then offered to loan me one of her die to play with. I'm not sure why she was so insistent about it, but she just wouldn't let me refuse."

Pouring herself another shot of fire whiskey Tenryuu chimed in.

"Im just glad Naka was willing to switch seats with me, I still cant believe me and Junyou ended up buying the same color dice and dice bag."

Raising her ochoko in a toast Junyou smirked "Well they do say that great minds think alike."



---Later still---

"Spittle drips from this feral bear's roaring maw, and its bright scarlet fur is broken in places by wicked, bony growths. It takes a step towards you, the bones of its previous victims snapping beneath its feet."

"Nope"

Ooyodo looks up over her cardboard screen. "Nope?"

"Nope. Not staying here. Don't feel like being eaten. Kana light-foot runs full speed out of the tree and back towards town."

Down on the table the rogue gives a confused look before walking off of the map.

"So your going to try to out run the bear then?"

Gesturing to her fellow ship girls Naka shakes her head.

"Don't have to out run the bear, just gotta out run them."



---A few minutes later---



As the clatter of unseen dice ends Ooyodo looks at the players.

"Throm, Kana, and Harriet. As you run back towards town the sounds of the bear's roaring is suddenly replaced with Brunhilde's blood curdled screams of agony."

"Desu?"

The rogue and wizard walk over and pat the cleric on the back.

"Desu Desu"

"Alright lets wrap it up for the evening. Its getting late and I need to figure out the... aftermath of this last encounter."



---Later That Week---

Ensign Kimura had been stationed in Yokosuka long enough to get used to the antics ship-girls got up to. So he was unfazed when a snow white owl flew up to Tenryuu with a small wooden box clutched in its feet. He was still unfazed when said ship-girl and one of her fairies began laughing maniacally. But when the owl started laughing as well...that was when he shook his head and walked off in search of a stiff drink.


To Be Continued?

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Within the closed resturant, the only movement was around one table in particular where three women sat. Anyone seeing them in the flickering candle light would realize that they were all sisters since all three had the same pear-shaped figures, red hair and green eyes. The differences however were obvious as one of them seemed older then the rest with a slightly worn look around her. More then that though, said woman also had a much shorter skirt showing off her long, toned legs. The youngest seeming of the three, not helped by the freckles on her face which only brought out her youthfulness, had a Edwardian era skirt that reached down to her ankles. Though from what became visible as she sat down her legs were as long and toned as her sister's.

The third sister was between them in age and rather then the clothes of the other two wore what looked like a nurse's outfit from WWI.

However, all three were obviously very close to one another. Not surprising considering who they all were after all. And the three were readily recognizable by any Halifax native.

After all, the Olympic sisters were many things, forgettable, they were not.

Soft conversation filled the silence as somewhere in the darkened place one could hear the ticking of a clock. Titanic watched as Olympic reached into her clothes and pulled out a bottle filled with a golden liquid which she began to pour into three glasses. "Hmm... Cognac?"

Olympic gave a small nod as she finished with the last glass and put the bottle aside. "Yes, just picked it up on my recent trip to Europe. I thought that we could use it for a bit of a night cap."

Just shaking her head, Titanic smiled a bit more as she picked up her glass and tapped it against Britannic's and Olympic's, the other doing the same for each other. Once she sipped it, a sigh escaped from the Ocean Liner. "I will admit, for all some might think that you have a drinking problem, you do know how to pick them, sister."

Also humming, Britannic's lips curled a bit as she felt the burn make its way down her throat. "Olympic is good for that." Ignoring the mock insulted look on her older sister's face, she took another sip. "Though after the day I have had, I could use a good, stiff drink."

Concerned, Olympic raised an eyebrow at that. "Surely it was not that bad?"

However, the Hospital Ship shook her head and felt her smile grow. As much as her older sister's worry got annoying, she knew it was just the way the other shipgirl showed her feelings. Not that she could blame her considering... "Oh, it was simply the usual for summer events. A number of those suffering from heat stroke and sun stroke. Two with bad sunburns, mind you. And there was one who twisted her ankle slightly upon Citadel Hill. But it was still very much a long, busy day."

Slowly nodding as she sipped her own cognac, Titanic sighed. "Oh, I quite know the feeling. It was very much a busy day here at the lounge." Rubbing her legs through her skirt, she shook her head. "My shafts were in use all day."

Amused, Olympic's eyes twinkled as she leaned forward. "And when is it ever not busy here at your lounge? Not a day has passed by since it opened that it is not, I would think!"

From where she sat, Britannic chuckled before performing a small salute with her drink. "She is right, you know." Examining the lounge, she hummed some as it looked like the First Class one that once sat on Titanic's own hull. "Though it is lovely, hence why it is not surprising that it is popular."

Bemused, the famous, though some would say infamous, Ocean Liner smiled as she looked around her lounge. "I would hope so, but I love it." Running one hand lovingly across the table, her smile became fond. "It was quite a bit of work to get here, but I am most happy with what I have managed."

Reaching across, Olympic placed a hand on Titanic's. "As are the two of us, Sister. Though from what I heard, you have had some luck with the rest of your idea?"

Smile brightening, Titanic clapped her hands. "Oh yes! Some of the Royal Navy and Merchant Girls have stated that they are considering investing in my idea for a hotel based on my First Class accommodations. There is enough land around the lounge here to build one and with the boost in the local economy, the city itself is considering also helping."

Drink swishing around in her glass, Britannic nodded. "I can imagine, it would be a big tourist draw even after the war. Especially as they are building a station nearby for that light railway they are building around the harbour and basin."

Finger tapping against the table, Olympic made a noise of agreement. "With that, the area will see a boost in development. Which means that you would be getting in on the ground floor if you will." Lips curling as she took a sip of her drink, she shook her head. "Though you will always have our backing."

Looking at her now empty glass, Titanic frowned for a moment before with a wink, her oldest sister poured some more cognac into it. "Yes, well, that is true enough. Though there is something else..." Getting confused looks from Olympic and Britannic at her nervousness, she swallowed and continued. "There has been some representatives from Belfast. They wish to know if I would be willing to expand there. From Cunard, you must understand."

A grimace on her face, Olympic made a face. "Ugh, do not remind me that the company we once worked for has been... devoured, by the Cunard." Then her expression relaxed some. "Though I suppose that it is good even if it only exists in some way."

With a shared grimace, Britannic held out her glass to be refilled, which Olympic did so. "I suppose so." Sipping her refilled drink, the Hospital Ship turned to Titanic. "As to the offer, perhaps it would be best to consider it. Even if nothing comes of it, the fact that they did make it says quite a bit I think."

Considering that, Titanic gave her a gesture with her glass before taking a drink from it. "Yes, that is true enough." At the clock chiming, the shipgirl looked in its direction before sighing. "Though I believe that I shall be heading to bed soon. After all, it shall be an early, and long, day tomorrow."

Simply nodding, Olympic chuckled some. "Let us just finish what is left of our drinks then, sisters. As I said, a nice nightcap though I think that I will be having a long day myself as I shall help you, Titanic." Her eyes then twinkled some. "And perhaps we should contact our favorite author over video chat to see if he needs some... inspiration... for the next Sea Queens novel?"

Both Britannic and Titanic looked at each other before blushing and giggling like schoolgirls.

Elsewhere in Halifax, parties continued unabated in various downtown bars, taverns, and pubs on both sides of the harbour. It went without saying that a large number of shipgirls in said places were in fact Uboats. In the Split Crow, U-889 was bouncing on her toes as she watched one of the local bands do a cover of one of Great Big Sea's more well known songs. Though she had to smile as they had modified it even while belting out along with most of the tavern to it.

"We'll Rant and we'll Roar,
Just like true Nova Scotians!
We'll Rant and we'll Roar,
On Deck and Below!
Until we strike bottom inside the two Sunkers!
When straight through the Channel to Canso we'll go!"

Laughing, the Uboat looked at her fellow Submarines and raised her tankard of beer. "Great party!"

Beside her, U-805 nodded before draining her own beer. "JA! JA! GREAT PARTY!" Laughs escaped her as she spread her arms. "I LOVE THIS PORT, MEIN SCHWESTER!"

Just watching as said Uboat grabbed another drink, U-889 grinned around her own tankard. After all, with how big the party scene was in the port, and how the bars and such were open until half past three with some closing at four, it was highly popular with the Uboats. Outside in the small plaza/pedestrian street between NSCAD/Split Crow and Barrington Place, were various somewhat buzzed, and more then a few drunk, young adults and shipgirls dancing and going from one bar and pub to one just feet away. A few entered the Anna Leonowens Gallery to see the artwork set up there from the students of the collage.

What attracted the most attention at Last Call was Malaya and Ontario both hanging off one of the stone lions at the entrance to the mall. Partially because of how their state of dress was somewhat less, though still decent, compared to what they normally were dressed. Also because the two were loudly singing a rendition of "Bugger Off" at the top of their lungs. It should be said that the two had a bottle of rum in their free hands.

It must also be said that the crowd gathered was extremely enthusiastic with the chorus.

 

[darthcourt10]

taalismn omake: Dammit, Bonnie!

Harry Leferts said:
Considering that she was able to carry, and launch, 150 twin engine Bombers/Lancasters… there would be little that she could not launch.​

"We borrowed this Alaska Airways 747 Jumbo to prove a point-"
"SEVEN FORTY SEVENS AREN'T BUILT FOR ARRESTOR HOOK LANDINGS!!!!!! HOW DID YOU TALK ME INTO THIS???!!!!"
"-that with liberal application of enough Sparkly Shiny Shipgirl Magic Bull$%$ one CAN land a Jumbo on an aircraft carrier...admittedly a very BIG aircraft carrier, with a summoned headwind strong enough to virtually stall said 747 in forward flight to a hover-"
"SEVEN FORTY SEVENS AREN'T FIESLER STORCHES EITHER!!! WE'RE GOING-"
"Just park it over between those C-130s and we can hit the ship's PX for some cold beer. Not too much, though, because tomorrow we LAUNCH."
"I"M -WALKING - HOME!!!!"

*-*-*-*-*-*

RCNAnon Omake: GODDAMMIT, BONNIE!

Habakkuk wakes up with this on deck Antonov An-225 Mriya - Wikipedia

Habakkuk: I... what? HOW?

Bonnie: Well you see you and I were drinking...

H: I didn't drink that much!

B: Not the first day no.

H: ...how many days?

B: Three! Then I triple dog dared you to try and get it landed.

H: Do I even want to know how you get them to try and land it on me?

B: Easy, I just used the leftover vodka we had.

H: *Grumble grumble grumble*

 

[darthcourt10]

mikelima777

Here is some insight on the Wardens and their potential...
*-*-*-*-*-*

National Defence Headquarters, Ottawa, Ontario

The Prime Minister, the Minister of National Defence, the Chief of Defence Staff, as well as the director of CSIS, were being briefed by Military Intelligence and a senior Naval Engineer on the events of the past week. They were joined by Admiral Lombard via teleconferencing as she drank a cup of tea. On the projector screen set up, there was an aerial photograph of HMCS Regina; FFH 334, a ship that no one in the room expected to see ever again. The battered Halifax-class frigate had definitely seen better days, and the engineer had winced at the visible damage as well as what he had learned about her internal situation.

"Given the wear and tear as well as the damage accumulated over the years, we believe that the old Regina will likely be decommissioned as soon as she returns home," the Engineer said, "Her engines are shot, her long-ranged comms and radar systems were crippled, and her Bofors gun would need to be replaced. We estimate the time and resources needed to repair her and bring her up the standards of her surviving sister ships would cost nearly as much as building another Hamilton." There was also the fact that another Regina, a Hamilton-class frigate, was already in service. "Maybe she can act as a training ship, perhaps, but frankly, it was a miracle she survived being towed to Japan."

The Intelligence Officer frowned as he spoke up. "We are still trying to figure out who attacked them a few years ago. We have recovered pieces of the weapon that hit them, but it may take a while to identify what kind of bomb was used and who did it belong to. We are talking with our American counterparts to see if they have any records of planes in the area at the estimated time of the incident. We're having more difficulties with the Russians on this matter."

The Minister of National Defence sighed, "Of course they are. Well, depending on what our partners in the Pentagon turn up, we might not need their assistance on that." The Minister grumbled as the briefing continued.

The Intelligence Officer resumed the briefing, "Moving along, we have the issue of the 'Wardens,' as they call themselves." On the projector screen, a picture of the Wardens together was shown.

"We know that a good number of them have entered relationships with some of the Regina's crew. We also know that some of these relations have led to children, though we will return to that later. Thanks to Haida, Athabaskan (I), and Acadia, we were able to have a better understand of the Wardens' capabilities."

Lombard raised a hand on her screen in amusement. "Let me guess: Mike Sierra Sierra Bravo?" Everyone chuckled at Lombard's comment, knowing what MSSB stood for. The Defence Minister was glad that for all the shenanigans with the Canadian shipgirls, his counterparts elsewhere, especially Japan and America, had it far worse.

"Yes, MSSB. From our research and gathered intel, we know that the standard abyssal types along with certain Princess-types do have a hull-form visible to shipgirls among others. With Haida and the others help, we have a better picture of their abilities and power."

On a projector screen, a picture of Tandy Ferguson was shown.

"First we have Tandy Ferguson, the wife of Commander Bruce Ferguson. Ta-class fast battleship, Kai Flagship level. According to our shipgirls, she appears to be functionally identical to an Iowa-class battleship with all the trimmings. 5"/38 secondaries, multiple 40 mm Bofors and 20 mm Oerlikons. She has said she may consider our offer of enlistment into the Navy."

Next came a picture of a Wo-class as well as a Nu-class light carrier.

"Wonda. Wo-class fleet carrier, Flagship level at least. Currently involved with PO2 Matthew Smith. Based on Intel, she appears to be equivalent to a Yorktown-class or Essex-class carrier. Apparently an avid whale watcher. Numa, Nu-class light carrier Elite. No relations so far, but she appears to be equivalent to a Colossus-class, possibly Majestic-class. Both carriers apparently sacrificed most of their air wings escaping the battle against hostile abyssals."

"Nelly Deslile, married to PO1 Victor Delisle. Ne-class heavy cruiser, Elite or Flagship level. According to Haida, Nelly appears similar to a County-class heavy cruiser, except with triple turrets mounted. Or a 1941 Type A Heavy Cruiser, which some dub the Zao-class despite that being the fictional name from a video game. Appears to be good with children."

"Rita. Dating PO2 Leonard Xavier. Ri-class heavy cruiser Elite. Appears to be equivalent to a Baltimore-class. Has said she may consider joining the navy depending on the decision of the others."

There was Toria, a To-class light cruiser elite equivalent to a Town-class cruiser, currently dating another member of the Regina crew. Hecate, a He-class Light Cruiser elite that was equivalent to a Leander-class cruiser. Holly, a Ho-class light cruiser elite that was equivalent to a Sendai-class cruiser. Then there was Tsumi, who appeared to be similar to an Atlanta-class cruiser. Tsumi was apparently a decent cook and appeared on the projector screen with a chef's hat on her headgear.

The Wardens included three submarines, led by So-class flagship Sophie, equal to a Gato-class, accompanied by two Ka-class elites, Kassie and Karrie who had similar capabilities as the Sargo-class submarines. Rounding out the Wardens were a flotilla of 7 destroyers. They were led by a Ni-class late model flagship, Shiny Top, along with a sister Ni-class late model elite, Sparkly Teeth, both determined to be equal to Gearing-class destroyers. There were two Ha-class late model elites, equivalent to the British Battle-class destroyers. One of the two, known as Little Dipper, was apparently involved with the youngest member of the Regina crew. Rounding out the destroyers were three Ro-class late model elites. They appeared to be equivalent in performance and specifications to the ubiquitous Fletcher-class destroyers.

"Assuming they all accept our offers, we may significantly increase our ability to help out in the fight against the Abyssal fleets still hostile to humanity."

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

For years since World War Two, Shannon Park was a neighbourhood used by the Royal Canadian Navy for housing. Sitting beside the MacKay Bridge going across the harbour's Narrows, the group of buildings were for decades inhabited by families of sailors. But the end started to come in the 1990s with budget cutbacks. And, in 2004, the last families left leaving the buildings to sit until they either torn down or decayed. One day, in another world with a different history, the buildings would be demolished.

But not in this world.

In 2005, Blood Week occurred and like other cities on the coasts, Halifax suffered. For the next several months, the Canadian Army, the Royal Canadian Air Force, and the Royal Canadian Navy fought almost daily against the Abyssals trying to push into the harbour. With the influx of military personnel, a group of residences were suddenly extremely important. Even as various people lived there, the entire area was refurbished and renovated. Many buildings were gutted and practically rebuilt. And then, the first Shipgirls came.

All of a sudden, the small community took on even more importance. Due to sitting on the harbour's Narrows, the area could easily be used for shipgirl residences. Being situated where it was meant that the girls could easily deploy from there and rapidly make their way to the harbour mouth. It was very quickly turned into the shipgirl base for Halifax. Once more laughter could be heard between the buildings as returned shipgirls of the Royal Canadian Navy came to live there between patrols and convoy escorts. Besides the buildings, there was a school nearby and a community sports center where they could play sports such as hockey. All refurbished and given new life by the military.

Currently though, one thing that could be heard was groans as the Light Cruiser Ontario stumbled out of her apartment and winced as the bright rays of the Sun pierced through her eyes. Each one seemingly hurting more then any Abyssal shell. Sucking in a breath, the shipgirl continued on as her nose twitched at some smells and her stomach growled. Her engineer also shouted at her to get food into her. And no, she got no pity from him due to her hangover.

Groans behind her made her look back into her apartment to see a half clothed Ocean Liner, Empress of Asia. Blinking away some pain, the Chinese-Canadian Natural Born shipgirl grimaced some. "Ugh, can you turn off the light?"

Ontario grimaced at her before shaking her head. "Sorry, no can do... As much as I wish myself, anyways."

Scowling at the light, the young woman bent over as she searched not noticing Ontario leaning to the side for a better look. "Dammit... Where the heck is my skirt?"

With a hum as she continued to watch the other shipgirl dig around, the Light Cruiser waited for several seconds while watching that stern. Somehow it made her hangover better, then she pointed to the side. "Its on the ceiling fan." Needless to say, that got her a string of curses in both Mandarin and English. "I am going to go and get some breakfast, would you like some as well?"

Getting a nod rom the Cruise Liner, and a groan from Malaya who was still laying on the bed, she left the apartment and was walking along until she came to a stop as another Ocean Liner shipgirl walked out of her own residence. Said shipgirl looked every inch the Lady even in a doctor's outfit, which was not surprising considering her name and the class of ship she was. Eyebrow raising, Lady Nelson hummed some while looking her over. "Hung over?"

A frown on her face, Ontario narrowed her eyes some. "Yes, and..." She examined the other shipgirl and noted the bloodshot eyes. "And so are you, unless I am wrong." Memories from the night before came back and she raised an eyebrow. "Have fun?"

Lady Nelson grinned at that. "Quite a bit of fun..." She then leaned forward. "Twins, they were."

Just as the Light Cruiser was about to comment, a young man that Ontario recognized as one of the sailors stumbled out of the Hospital Ship's quarters... followed by his twin brother. Noticing the looks, Ontario's amusement and Lady Nelson's cat-like smirk, the two flushed and quickly made their way out of sight. With a glance at her fellow shipgirl, the Cruiser shook her head. "I suppose that you won, last night."

Much to her surprise, Lady Nelson blushed at that before she coughed. "I, uh... am afraid not." At the look of surprise, she pursed her lips. "I believe that would go to Bonnie."

Despite part of her not wanting to know because she knew how she was likely to react, the Light Cruiser's curiosity won out. "Bonnie? How?"

Coughing, Lady Nelson looked unsure before looking around. "Quadruplets."

Utter silence met that announcement for some time. Finally, Ontario's brain rebooted and the world began moving again as she boggled. "How the bloody fuck?!"

Elsewhere, a cargo shipgirl with a plate laden with breakfast was walking from a tent where various others were cooking and serving breakfast. Not just to other shipgirls, but naval personnel and civilians as Shannon Park had been opened to the public. However, she suddenly had to jerk back as some laughing kids rushed past, and nearly ran into her. Before the shipgirl could fall though, the seemingly thirteen year old girl was caught by a strong arm. "Careful now, Mein Fruendin."

Rapidly blinking, the smaller shipgirl looked up to find a smile on the face of the shipgirl, Admiral Scheer. "Scheer? What are you doing here?"

Helping her steady herself, the German gave a small laugh. "Came in on the recent convoy, Beaverford. Which means that I'll be around for a few days." She then clapped her on the back and pointed at a table where there were various other German shipgirls with Revenge also there. "How about you come and sit with us so that we can get caught up? Perhaps tell of epic battles you have been in?"

Somewhat blushing, the Cargo Ship chuckled. "I'm afraid that there are none of those. After all, I'm not a warship."

All Scheer did though was give her a look and snort before rolling her eyes. "Not a warship, she says!" Shaking her head, she smirked. "You fought me for almost five hours before I managed to sink you that night. You did far better then the 'Warships' at the time, wear your accomplishment with pride! Now come, come, Mein Fruendin! We shall at least have breakfast together."

Lips twitching, the small shipgirl allowed the much taller and built one guide her along. After all, Beaverford knew better then to argue with her German friend. The one time an French Cruiser had insultingly asked why she was sitting with the 'Real Warships' when she was not, Admiral Scheer had stood up and then lifted the other shipgirl off her feet. Then, in a low voice, had stated that Beaverford had earned her spot there. Never again was she bothered about that sort of thing.

Granted, she could do without Taffy 3 always trying to rip off her sleeves every time they met...
_____________________________________________________________________

On the shores and hills of Lake Banook, large crowds stood and watched. Some of them cheering as the rowboats raced their way down the lake for the second day of races. More then a few of those watching were actually magicals, Demi-humans, and others enjoying the sights. Sitting in a chair with a small smile, the shipgirl, Queen Elizabeth was watching the boats. In an odd way, it reminded her of back during her service, or rather some of similar events her own crewmen had seen.

Suddenly feeling a tap on her shoulder, she turned to find one of her new sisters, Laurentia, there. A unsure smile on her face, she held out a large, foil wrapped object. "I... brought you some lunch, Elizabeth." When the British Battleship unwrapped it to reveal fish and chips, Laurentia rubbed the back of her neck. "I thought that you might like some fish and chips. Hopefully they're good though."

All the other Battleship did was smile and gesture to the chair next to her. "I think that they will do quite nicely. Now have a seat, things are quite exciting out there." After placing some vinegar onto the meal, she took a bite of the fish and nodded. Out of the corner of her eye though, she spotted her new sister leaning forward and only smiled. All of the British ones, Warspite included, had been overjoyed at hearing that they had new sisters. And while Warspite stayed back in England, Queen Elizabeth and Malaya had arrived in Canada to train them.

And the thought of her younger, Royal Navy sister made Queen Elizabeth roll her eyes. Especially due to how she had called earlier complaining of her hangover. Her eldest sister, of course, took great amount of pity on her.

Mainly by showing up and using an airhorn to get her moving.

Chewing the fish in her mouth though, the Battleship simply sat back and enjoyed the day as it unfolded. After all, it was nice and sunny with the odd fluffy cloud as well as a nice, cool breeze. The perfect day to sit back and relax while having some fish in chips in her opinion. Which is exactly what she set out to do.

Inside of a small building in Burnside, another event was going on and this time it was purely magical. Standing behind a line within the expanded inside, a witch narrowed her eyes before nodding. "PULL!"

Not even a second later, the clay throwing machine threw a clay disk into the air. Said disk flew across the open space before the witch shot off one spell that missed. However, the second hit and shattered the disk into pieces as various people cheered. Turning, she bowed to the audience and then moved back to allow the next competitor to have their turn. With a glance to the scoreboard, she smiled a bit as it showed that she was in the front of the group. Not bad for someone who went to a small magic school in the Cape Breton Highlands that was officially unrecognized by the ICW. One founded by former, Scottish Hogwarts students who had come many centuries ago.
The wizard who replaced her rolled his shoulders a bit before grunting. "PULL!"

However, he only managed to hit his target after four shots, two that missed and a third that clipped it. The fourth though had shattered it into fragments, not that it made him any more happy then he had been. Elsewhere in the building, there was another firing range set up. This time the people involved were young students who ran along a line, shooting targets with various curses. Said targets being at different distances from where the youngsters were. All of them were given permission to use underage magic for the event, but were given points for accuracy, speed, and the type of curse used. They had even been split up in categories.

At the end of the day, the winner for the Sixteen Year old division had surprised everyone when he pulled his girlfriend into an embrace and kissed her deeply. It was not that he did so that caused more then a little bit of surprise though. Mainly due to her being a Canadian shipgirl. That did not stop the wolf whistles though, not in the least.

Eventually the Sun did set below the horizon, marking another day having passed of Natal Day Weekend. As the skies darkened, the lights came on though more then a few wondered why various ones flickered. Getting reports, the city workers just scratched their heads as they were not reading any power surges on their systems. But more then one eye was drawn to that and nodded.

The people at Alderney Landing didn't notice this at all though. They were far too interested in the free concert going on. Walking through the crowds, Steve balanced what was in his hands before finding his destination. At the edge of the crowd were a group of women, all related, but it was one of them he only had eyes for. Coming up to her, he held out the tray of steaming poutine to her. "Here you go, Muriel."

Smiling up at her, she gave him a kiss that deepened for a moment before pulling away. "Thank you, Steve. This looks wonderful and I could use something warm to heat me up."

Just placing his arms over her shoulders, Steve looked at the Selkie and raised an eyebrow. "What? I'm not warm enough for you? Well, damn it all then."

Lightly laughing, his girlfriend shook her head before jabbing him in the arm while the band got ready for the next song. "Oh, shush you. We both know that you're plenty warm."

Rolling her eyes, one of her sisters sighed. "And there those two go flirting again. Honestly, one has to wonder if your newly weds or not at times." Then her expression softened. "Still, we're glad for you."

"Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast,
may your mountains dark and dreary be.
For when I am far away on the briny ocean tossed,
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?

The sun was setting in the west,
The birds were singing on every tree.
All nature seemed inclined to rest
But still there was no rest for me.

Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast,
may your mountains dark and dreary be.
For when I am far away on the briny ocean tossed,
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?

I grieve to leave my native land,
I grieve to leave my comrades all,
And my aging parents whom I've always loved so dear,
And the bonnie, bonnie lass that I do adore.

Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast,
may your mountains dark and dreary be.
For when I am far away on the briny ocean tossed,
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?"

Unnoticed by them all, the lights began to flicker around the concert stage and the harbor seemed to become more choppy. However, the band continued to sing the Nova Scotian folksong on the stage.

"I have three brothers and they are at rest,
Their arms are folded on their chest.
But a poor simple sailor just like me,
Must be tossed and turned in the deep dark sea.

Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast,
may your mountains dark and dreary be.
For when I am far away on the briny ocean tossed,
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?

The drums they do beat and the wars to alarm,
The captain calls, I must obey.
So farewell, farewell to Nova Scotia's charms,
For it's early in the morning and I'm far, far away.

Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea-bound coast,
may your mountains dark and dreary be.
For when I am far away on the briny ocean tossed,
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?"

As the music faded away to cheers from various people, Steve chuckled some as Muriel snuggled into his side. Part of him thought back to both Blood Week when he had first met her and all those months together while she healed and he held onto her seal skin. Then his heartbreak when she was fully healed and he gave her skin back, so that she could go out and search for her family.

But he also remembered the surprise and joy when he found her in his house years later. More then that, the happiness when they became boyfriend and girlfriend. Her family had very rapidly accepted him as one of their own to his relief. Less relief at the teasing from her sisters though, not that either of them were too bothered.

Feeling a poke at his side, he looked down at the russet haired Selkie leaning against him as the group on stage sang another song. "Is something wrong, love?"

Only smiling, Steve shook his head and kissed her forehead. "Not at all. Unless you count thinking how lucky I am to have you."

Muriel blushed at that before her younger sister rolled her eyes. "Or how lucky she is that you're able to afford the food she eats. Not to mention the amount."

That got her a flick to the ear before Muriel smirked. "Well, I am eating for two."

All Steve did was smile as his hand rested on her pregnant stomach. Yes, he was both happy and so was his girlfriend. The future was looking bright indeed.

Up on the stage, the band leader grabbed the microphones. "HEY! ARE YOU ALL ENJOYING NATAL DAY WEEKEND!?" Cheers rang out from the crowd and he nodded. "GREAT TO HEAR IT! NOW, AS TO OUR NEXT SONG, WE'LL BE SINGING A SONG THAT ALL NOVA SCOTIANS SHOULD KNOW! AND WE'D WELCOME FOR ALL OF YOU TO BE SINGING ALONG WITH US!"

Being joined by some of his band, he cleared his throat before they began to sing.

"Oh, the year was 1778,
How I wish I was in Sherbrook now!
A letter of mark came from the King
To the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen.

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold.
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears.
I'm a broken man on a Halifax Pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

Well, Elcid Barrett cried the town.
How I wish I was in Sherbrook now!
For twenty brave men all fisherman who
Would make for him the "Antelope's" crew.

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold.
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears.
I'm a broken man on a Halifax Pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers."

By the second chorus, people in the crowd began to pick it up and sing along with both the chorus and "How I wish I was in Sherbrook now".

"The "Antelopes" sloop was a sickening sight.
How I wish I was in Sherbrook now!
She had a list to the port and her sails in rags
And the cook in the scuppers with the staggers and jags.

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold.
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears.
I'm a broken man on a Halifax Pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

On the king's birthday we put to sea.
How I wish I was in Sherbrook now!
It was ninety one days to Montigo Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way.

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold.
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears.
I'm a broken man on a Halifax Pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

On the ninety sixth day we sailed again
How I wish I was in Sherbrook now!
When a bloody great Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four-pounders we made to fight.

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold.
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears.
I'm a broken man on a Halifax Pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers."

On the Harbor Ferry, people on the top deck were listening to the concert and singing along with the song. They were not the only ones either as those on various boats anchored nearby were also singing.

"The Yankee lay low down with gold.
How I wish I was in Sherbrook now!
She was broad and fat and loose in stays,
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days.

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold.
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears.
I'm a broken man on a Halifax Pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

Then at length we stood two cables away!
How I wish I was in Sherbrook now!
Our cracked four-pounders made an awful din,
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in!

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold.
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears.
I'm a broken man on a Halifax Pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

The Antelope shook and pitched on her side.
How I wish I was in Sherbrook now!
Well Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs,
And the Maintruck carried off both me legs.

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold.
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears.
I'm a broken man on a Halifax Pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers."

Lights began to flicker and more then a few people on the boats noticed that the harbor was becoming more and more choppy. But they dismissed that as the wind also picked up. Also missed was the motes of light under the waves.

"So here I sit in my twenty-third year
How I wish I was in Sherbrook now!
It's been six years since I sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday.

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold.
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears.
I'm a broken man on a Halifax Pier,
The last of Barrett's Privateers."

As the last bit of the song faded away, wood in a nearby construction site vanished as did various pieces of metal. In a nearby boat shack, sails also vanished into motes of light as offshore, the water bubbled. John, sitting in his office blinked as the massive spiritual and magical whirlpool with Halifax suddenly intensified with a smaller vorticity off of Alderney Landing.

Meanwhile, at the concert everyone felt the wind pick up some and saw the lights dim. Out on the harbour nearby, a large number of shipgirls opened their eyes and blinked. On their backs were sails of various kinds and shapes. Scratching her head, one of the smaller ones looked around before blinking as she spotted one of the larger ones. "What in God's name? Is that you, Sir John Sherbrooke?"

Now looking at the small shipgirl, the other sailship's eyebrows shot up. "It is I, Liverpool Packet. But what are you doing here and... wait, what happened to us!? Last I remember was being beached and burned to me waterline. And now we're..."

Yet another one of the ships spoke up. "Girls? What Devilry is this now?" When they looked at her, she shook her head while still patting herself down. "Name's Rover, Privateer. Don't know you bunch though."

Liverpool frowned a bit before shaking her head. "Don't know you either, friend. You a Yank?"

Seemingly insulted, Rover jerked back. "The hell you say?! Some of my crew fought against those rebels when they revolted! Why ever would I be one?!"

More then one of the other ones blinked at that even as a few nodded. Sir John scratched her head before something occurred to her. "Wait, what year do you last remember?"

Utterly lost, Rover frowned at her. "Last year? I think it was 1805? Maybe?"

For several moments there was surprised before Liverpool raised her hand. "I was built in 1812. What the Bloody Hell is going on here?"

There was a gasp and one of the other Privateers pointed. "Not just that! Look right over there!" All of them turned and could see the nearby concert, with some of those starting to make noise as they saw the shipgirls out on the water. "What witchery is that now!?"

A frown on her face, Sir John furrowed her eyebrows. "I don't think that is any form of witchcraft or Devilry." Looking around, her eyebrows raised upwards in surprise. "I think that we're in Halifax! Look, right over there is King George's Island! And I can just see Macnab's!"

Rapidly coming to a decision, Liverpool Packet cupped her hands around her mouth. "AHOY ASHORE! DO YOU KNOW WHERE WE LOST SOULS BE? WE WOULD LIKE TO GET OUR BEARINGS!"

One of those ashore shouted back. "YOU'RE IN HALIFAX, NOVA SCOTIA AT ALDERNEY LANDING! CANADA!"

Blinking, Rover frowned and turned to one of the others. "Canada? Are they talking Upper Canada or Lower Canada? Because Nova Scotia is not part of them last I checked."

Simply frowning, Sir John shook her head. "Nor last I checked either." Frown deepening, she let her eyes look across the harbour where she could see massive buildings. Ones that seemed to be made of glass. Then her eyes caught sight of CFB Halifax and her eyes widened at the sight of one of the warships there. "What in the world...?"

Another one was staring at the Ferry and could see flashes of light. But being as there was no booms, she raised an eyebrow before turning to another. "Are they trying to signal us? Because none o' that makes a lick of sense. And too many are trying to talk at once."

Only shrugging, her fellow Privateer shook her head. "Not a clue." Then she pointed at something else. "And there's something there in the sky as well."

More then one of them nervously tracked the odd craft as it flew through the sky. But it kept its distance so they did not do anything else. While that was happening, Liverpool, Sir John, and Rover all kept the others calm best that they could. At least until they could figure out what was going on. Thankfully for everyone, a small shipgirl appeared from the Halifax side and made her way to them. A number of them stared as they noticed that her hull was made of metal of all things. But they only saw two guns on her and so relaxed until she got close to them.

For several moments they stared at the cute, eleven year old girl in front of them. Her dress was somewhat odd, though at least familiar in ways that the ones ashore and in some of the nearby boats were not. At least she had a dress, there were women in trousers that they could see! Granted, some were showing scandalous amounts of leg as well, which more then one of them gave a long look at.

A very long look at.

But the girl in front of them was also looking at her before adjusting the small spectacles on her pixie nose. Scratching her thick mane of hair, she hummed a bit. "Well now, this is rather surprising. I'm HMCS Acadia, may I ask who I am speaking to?"

There were mutters before Sir John cleared her throat and stepped forward. "I'm Sir John Sherbrooke, Privateer. I have my Letter of Marque here if you wish to see it." Briefly, she looked confused before clearing her throat. "HMCS?"

With a nod as if everything was explained, and it was to her, Acadia smiled. "Her Majesty's Canadian Ship, I'm in the Royal Canadian Navy." At a question of if she meant Lower Canada or Upper, the small shipgirl chuckled. "Well, the whole nation is known as Canada now and has since 1867 when Britain made us a Dominion."

Still frowning, Rover furrowed her eyebrows. "You said Her Majesty? Is a Queen on the throne now instead of a King? And what year is this?"

Head tilted to the side, Acadia gave a small smile. "Yes, her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth the Second is still on the throne though she marked her 60th year last. As for the year, it is the Year of Our Lord, two-thousand and thirteen. For some of you, I suspect it has been about two hundred years."

Looking at the others, Liverpool took off her hat and gave an unsure smile. "Two hundred years, you say. That's... quite the amount of time." Swallowing, she continued. "Perhaps you might take pity on our poor souls to explain more?"

Acadia just smiled and gave a chuckle. "Of course, that is what I am here for after all. Now, perhaps we should come ashore first so that I can get us transport."

It went without saying that more then one of them nodded with a smile of relief. After all, they would soon get their answers as to what was going on. Though in the end, they were confused about other things after the explanation as well. It also turned out that they were not the only ones to appear as in a tavern in Halifax, HMS Shannon appeared after her ballad was sung.

By the time they got there, the shipgirls who came to pick her up found the sailshipgirl well into her cups and surrounded by both normal humans and other shipgirls.

And she was far from the last...

 

[darthcourt10]

Cyberbeta

Harry Leferts said:
It went without saying that more then one of them nodded with a smile of relief. After all, they would soon get their answers as to what was going on. Though in the end, they were confused about other things after the explanation as well. It also turned out that they were not the only ones to appear as in a tavern in Halifax, HMS Shannon appeared after her ballad was sung.

By the time they got there, the shipgirls who came to pick her up found the sailshipgirl well into her cups and surrounded by both normal humans and other shipgirls.

And she was far from the last...​

Inspiration struck, Did a quick search for taverns in Halifax, went with the one that made the most sense in combining Tavern with nearness to the shore. I'm Texan so I am doing a lot of guessing here on how she would speak. Also, has Chesapeak been summoned yet? Cause she might want to go for a round 2 on land.

*-*-*-*-*

HMS Shannon blinked as she found herself in a strange Tavern. The last thing she had remembered was being broken up back in Britain after her long service and rename to Saint Lawrence (which she would only answer to as a courtesy, she always preferred her original name.) Looking around she could see strange torches hanging from the walls and ceiling, as well as a strange flat piece of glass on some of the walls showing what looked like moving art.

The sudden silence around her was the second thing she noticed. Men and women in strange clothing were looking at her with no amount of shock, awe and, on a few faces, hope and delight. Clearing her throat (and wasn't that odd, she now looked like a member of her crew!) she spoke up.

"Begging your pardon, but could someone tell me where I am?" Looking about, she spotted what looked to be the Tavern Master behind the bar, with a stock of drinks with metal spouts coming out the top in front of a glass (and how much did this tavern make to afford such splendor) plate naming it the Red Stag Tavern.

"Well, you're in the Red Stag Tavern, which is part of the Alexander Keith's Brewery in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada." Taking a moment to compose himself the bartender took note of the newly summoned Shipgirl looking around in surprise before voicing his own question. "This is just a guess, but would your name happen to be either Shannon or Chesapeake?"

Snapping her head back to the Tavern Master (and part of a brewery she had heard rumors about from the senior officers when she was a Hulk while in Britain) she replied. "Aye, I am His Majesty's Ship Shannon, though" looking down she noted strange tiny men had appeared on her shoulders that she could feel were her crew. "I seem to be a bit out of shape. The last thing I remember before appearing here was being broken up in the Chatham Dockyards."

She had barely finished speaking before the people nearest to her let out a roaring cheer. Shouting for quiet the Tavern Master took control back before anyone else could comment. "Well, then let be the first to welcome you back to Canada. Quickest summary I can give is that you are now what is called a Shipgirl, the soul of your old form HMS Halifax reborn in the shape of a human. And I am betting like all Shipgirls you are probably hungry now."

A sudden twinge of pain in her midships overrode any shock she now had. Her Quartermaster spoke up saying how the stores were basically empty of everything, even hardtack. "Would seem you are right good sir. You would not happen to have any food for a member of His Majesty's Navy would you?"

The Tavernmaster just smiled at her in response. "It's Her Majesty currently, a Queen rules over England now but that is the last thing you should ask about." The Tavern Master grabbed a Mug and filled it from the first tap before handing it to Shannon to distract her. "Nurse that while I get the chefs cooking up some of our best for you. And don't worry about the tab," the Tavern Master turned to head toward a wooden door with a porthole window on it. "As soon as I can start getting you food I'll call the Navy to let them know you've been summoned. They'll foot the bill."

Taking a sip of the beer now in her mug, Shannon had to restrain herself from chugging it. Cold and strong, it beat the pants off any Grog or brew she could remember being brought aboard. Even some of the impressed members were cheering and lining up for a sample in her hull. Looking to the side she could see the civvies holding strange colored rectangles aimed at her while others seemed to be talking with them next to their ears.

"So" she said to the crowd while taking another sip of her drink, "who wants to tell an old sea dog what has been happening while she was away?"

The beer and tales flowed for a few hours until someone from the Canadian navy arrived. By then Shannon had been in Three group "Selfies" and multiple individual ones, signed the nameplate behind the bar (along with her Captain and every Officer of the crew who was on board now), told her point of view for the battle with Chesapeak (and how she still stubbornly considered herself an American ship, even with the British Colors on her mast after her capture) and had even memorized the song that had brought her back from Davy Jones's Locker.

Whenever she got the chance to return to Halifax in the future on leave, The Red Stag would always be a place she would stop by.

 

[darthcourt10]

Cyberbeta

Harry Leferts said:
I like this quite a bit actually, consider it canon. Makes me wonder how long before someone handed her a toonie that had her on it (said coins were released for 2012). Not to mention the silver and gold commemorative coins with her on it.

Her reaction would be hilarious.​

You trying to dare me or something? Just for that, YOU get to decide who appears at that Tavern! You did say multiple Shipgirls were summoned at it!

*-*-*-*-*

Only an hour into having returned, along with two other Shipgirls popping into the crowd after songs were sung (she had not gotten to speak to them yet but had learned they at least flew the Union Jack) Shannon paused from the fifth "Red Stag Platter" of Appetizer possibilities (she had already devoured four other Sampler platters along with two orders of Fish & Chips, a Haddock Sandwich and something called Lobster Mac & Cheese as well as several mugs of house made beer & ale paired to each plate and had told how she liked her steak cooked that was apparently on the grill now) to look at the young man next to her.

"Repeat that would you, I have a what now?"

The young man simply pulled out his phone (and wasn't that a marvel, instant communication & Navigation that could contact anyone in the world and it was no larger than the sextant she had onboard) and brought up a picture of a coin with her image on it at full sail, part of Halifax in the background. "You're currently on the $2 coin, or toonie. I don't have any on me but, hold on." Signaling the bartender (not the Tavern Master, apparently they along with some of the Brew Masters would be here soon and had said something about naming the next proper beer they made for her) the young man quickly handed over a bill and was handed back five of the "toonies" and held them out to her.

Shannon reached over and picked up one of the coins, looking at the image of her new Sovereign before turning it over to see the mirror of the image on the phone. She felt herself tear up slightly as she went to put the coin back in the young man's hand. She was remembered, and celebrated, even after two centuries had passed. The young man stopped her and put all of the coins into her hand. "Keep them, I got paid yesterday before Natal Weekend and my tab's currently paid up so I can spare the change."

Slipping the coins into her pocket where her Quartermaster immediately took charge of them for safe keeping. Shannon smiled at the young man in thanks. Reaching back towards her platter she marveled at how friendly the people were in the modern times. Why, she had even gotten offers to lead her to the Memorial for hers & Chesapeak's respective crews that were right next to each other.

Through when she visited them later, fully sober, she and Captain Broke had to crack down on her more unruly Impressed who wanted to deface the Chesapeak memorial.

 

[darthcourt10]

Dances in Shadows

------------------------------------------
Dungeons and Dragons and Shipgirls
------------------------------------------
Part 2 & 3/4. Unexpected consequences.
------------------------------------------

Brunhilde Lagerfist was not having a good day. Her main complaint, had someone bothered to ask her, would have to be her companions' recent decision to piss off a bear and run away. Now running away from the bear she understood, it was after all quite large. The lack of warning before they started running however, that was another matter. Lungs burning she put on as much speed as her body could muster, her feat furiously chewing up the countryside. The sad truth however was that dwarfs where not built with legs as long as some of her companions had. Bit by bit she began to trail behind them, and bit by bit the bear's roars became louder.

Before long she felt a weight slam into her back, and her legs loose purchase. Struggling to get to her feat she absentmindedly noticed that someone was screaming. It was when she felt the warm breath of the bear on the back of her head that she realized it was her screaming. It was with this realization that a single thought entered her mind. 'well...fuck.'.

She heard a single bone shattering crunch...and everything went white.





After a while Brunhilde began to hear voices, and the white void around her began to part. Instead of the stone walls of Moradin's hallowed halls however, she found herself in a strange room of grey metal. Instead of the aroma of unending feasts and ales...she smelled sea water and oil. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a human in a strange uniform and decided to call out to him.

"Lager? Lager Lager?"

Spinning around the strange man wore an expression of shock and disbelief.

"Desu?"


--Later that week--

Ensign Kimura had been stationed in Yokosuka long enough that very few things bothered him anymore. When it had been discovered that MSSB could bring dead DnD characters back as ship-girl fairies he had merely shrugged and gone back to work. When Admiral Goto had issued orders that all ship chaplains and priests were to be trained in clerical magic he had seen the logic in it.
What did bother him was when the chicken wearing a tiny sombrero had approached him and informed him that none of this was real. That it was all an omake written by some idiot who couldn't get a silly idea out of his head. When the chicken pulled out an odd looking pocket watch and invited him to some wizard's retirement party, he simply hoped they would have enough liquor.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Once the Privateers followed Acadia ashore at the Marina, and their rigging was dismissed to shouts of surprise from them, another issue became apparent. And as usual with shipgirls, their true eternal foe made itself known as a large number of stomachs began to growl. Cheeks flushed, Liverpool didn't need to look around to find that a number of her fellows also felt the same jolt of pain in their galleys. Or was that stomachs... Quickly shaking off the oddity of their new existence, she took a deep breath and looked at Acadia. "Would it trouble you much to take pity on us poor sailors and find us some vittles for provisions?"

Acadia paused for a moment before nodding. "Not much trouble at all. In fact..." She pointed to where a crowd was watching from a metal fence. "Right there is a large number of food stands. Being as the bus that will be picking us up shall take some time getting here, I think that it would be best to handle the food now."

Walking behind her, the various sailshipgirls were now looking around in interest and confusion at the odd world that they found themselves in. Gaze upon one of the lights, the smallest of the Privateers who looked like a seven year old frowned. "How do you think that they manage that now? I can't see where they're keeping the oil and it looks like the oddest sort of flame I have ever seen!"

It took a few moments for Acadia to answer, though she noted that said sailshipgirl was tiny compared to the others. She was less then fifteen meters long from what she could see! "Those are electric lights, they use a sort of harnessed lightning to provide light, Miss..."

That got her some snickers from the little girl who then bowed. "Crown, that is me name Miss Acadia." Straightening, she looked at her hand and suddenly grinned. "Though as strange as it is that we're like this somehow, there is one good thing."

Eyebrow raised, one of her fellow Privateers, Weazel blinked at that. "Oh? And what would that be?"

Grin turning vicious, Crown had a glint in her eye. "It means that if that bastard, or should I say whoreson, Atalante shows up, I can punch them right in the nose I can!"

Mind scanning her memories, the Survey Ship leading them finally blinked as she remembered one bit of naval history. "Atalante? As in the Royal Navy Sloop of War, Atalante?"

Snarling, Crown glared at nothing in particular. "Aye! I captured that Yank Brigantine fair as the winds can be! Had a prize crew on it and everything! But then those bastards showed up and claimed joint capture stating that they were in pursuit once the whole thing was done and over with." Then she spat into the water. "When me captain complained, they pressganged some of me own crew!"

There were nods and mutters from the others, though Liverpool had a smirk on her face. "Oh, they might have won in the end, Crown. But the rest o' us Privateers? Her crew did not have a good time of it once we heard of what they did. Only their luck that her Captain and Officers never went to the taverns at the waterfront."

Even though she was somewhat amused by the image of the little girl punching a much bigger sailshipgirl in the face, Acadia shook it off. Another one pointed at a car nearby and the steel hulled shipgirl gave a nod. "That would be a car, or automobile as some call it. They were invented around a century after your time..." Rolling her thoughts around in her head, she gave a nod. "They are similar to a steam locomotive, but burn a form of pitch in their engines which are much smaller. The bus that we shall be taking when it arrives is similar."

Various sailshipgirls nodded at that as it did make sense. Several minutes later, they were all sitting at a table hurriedly set up and looking at the food piled in front of them. Rolla frowned and was examining what she had when Sir John frowned as well. "And what is that now?"

Raising an eyebrow, Rolla shook her head. "They call it a... pizza. Looks like one of those Dutch pieces of bread with meat and such on it. Or sounds like one of those." Sniffing it, she then took a bite and nodded. "Is good though."

Only shrugging, Sir John picked up the hamburger she had. "If you say so. But this is somewhat familiar, just meat and some other things between two slices of bread." Biting down, she chewed and swallowed before wiping her lips. "Not bad."

While watching Crown bite down into a giant pretzel, Weazel shook her head some and took a bite of a donut. "These odd pastries are good though. And they even got some form of citrus juice for us all!"

More then one of the sailshipgirls gave a cheer while raising a cup or bottle. To some people's surprise, they either went for tea or for orange juice, a few grabbing lemonade. But then they stated that they wanted clear heads and that what they were drinking was to fight off any scurvy. Acadia only nodded some and continued her watch over the various Privateers. Seeing said shipgirl look at her phone, Liverpool leaned over from her 'Lobster roll' and watched with interest as Acadia tapped her fingers on what looked like a lit plane of glass. "And what is this now?"

Glancing at her, Acadia smiled. "Its called a 'Telephone', though this type is a cell phone." Once she got nods, she continued. "They allow for one to communicate over a large distance by either text, which is like a very fast letter service, or by voice. For example, I can call someone over in Halifax on the other side of the harbour and they could hear my voice as clear as if I was next to them."

Eyebrows were raised at that and various members of the Sailshipgirls muttered to each other in surprise. Something such as that would have been worth far more then its weight of gold when they were made of wood. They could have coordinated raids and let each other know about where the Americans were! One of the other Privateers sighed as she watched a group of teenaged girls nearby. "Do ye think that we'll be able to visit the brothels soon? Because seeing the girls around, I be wanting to be visiting."

That got a grimace from Acadia as she noticed nods and the like. Deciding to bite it in the butt, she coughed. "Unfortunately, there are no longer legal brothels in Halifax. Prostitution is illegal in both Canada, Britain, and other nations including the US."

Utter silence met her before Liverpool sighed. "Seems that the future is not all great." Suddenly, she perked up with a grin. "But that does not mean that we cannot see if some bar maids would accompany us!"

Scowling, Crown glared at them all. "Bugger off the bunch o' ye!" At their confused looks, the small Privateer gestured over her body with one hand. "Look at me! I be looking like a lass of all of seven summers! Not even the most desperate of me boys would be willing to take one home like myself! And any would be beaten if they did!" Grumbling, she leaned against her hand. "I'll be needing to wait for years."

Rover frowned at that before patting her on the back. "A right shame that." Chewing a bite of her sausage, she wiped at her lips. "But ye boys?"

All Crown did was shrug at that. "Aye, most of my crew were boys. Some of them maybe twelve, though I was so small they still be bumping heads below decks!"

It went without saying that she got a number of chuckles from the others. Eventually the bus did arrive and, after a bit of hesitance, the Privateers all boarded it though they waved at the various people cheering them. Slumping, Sir John ran a hand through her mane of hair before looking at Acadia who was mentioning something about a stop at a "Tim Hortons" on the way. "Miss Acadia, I think that we be all wanting an explanation now."

Pausing, the Canadian shipgirl just nodded after a moment's worth of thought. "True enough, you're all owed that much. Most of it will need to wait until tomorrow though." At the confused look, she smiled. "You're not the only ones to have already returned. And, I suspect, there's going to be a rather large number who will by dawn at least. We also need to get ready with everything that you need to know as I suspect that the normal information booklets won't help much."

More then a few of the Sailshipgirls shifted a bit unsure before Liverpool spoke up. "Well, most of us can read the Bible, Miss Acadia. Though perhaps not as well as we should as I have never read of anything quite like this."

There was a soft smile on Acadia's face before she shook her head. "That is because there hasn't been something like this happening before. Or, rather, it was so rare none of us would have heard about it." With a deep breath, she thought for almost a minute while easily standing at the front of the bus. Then, the Survey Ship gave a nod. "I suppose that one of the more important things to tell you right now is that we have not fought the Americans really for about two hundred years outside of some raids by Irishmen living there in the 1860s and 1870s."

Eyebrows shot up at that before Rover put it together with a nod. "Aye, so that would mean that we're friendly with the Yanks then? Not that we all would have much problem as we did trade with them outside of our fighting. So you and any others don't be needing to worry too much of us fighting with any Yanks as long as they don't fight us."

Relaxing a bit, Acadia sighed with relief. "That's good to know." Then she grimaced and knew that the rest might not go down well. "Currently though, the United States is in the same position as Britain was in your day. Britain herself has lost most of her colonial empire, though much it like Canada still considers the English Queen to be their Sovereign." There were mutters at that, but they kept quiet for the most part. "Another thing to note is that in the present day, everyone is considered equal. I'm sure that most of you know about how the British outlawed the Slave Trade?"

Uncomfortable, Liverpool took a deep breath. "I personally know that as a fact." At the looks, she pursed her lips thinly. "I was originally an American slave ship before being taken by the British. Don't like thinking about those days though, cruel things happened on my decks."

Surprised, Acadia nodded at that before tapping a finger against the pole she was holding as the bus continued on its journey. "Yes, well... the US even fought a Civil War over slavery in the 1860s and those supporting keeping slaves lost." Some of the Privateers who still had crew alive then nodded. "It is not just black people though, but Natives, Chinese, Middle Eastern people, and the like. All are as equal as anyone else, though some disagree. Of course, which such changes came others. Calling someone a negro for example is an insult that might see you punched in the face, same with similar words."

Eyebrows raised, Sir John glanced at the others to see similar looks of surprise and shock. But then those melted away and they shrugged. All of them were Privateers and their crews were all different sorts. After a brief stop at a Tim Hortons, which they were surprised was sort of a coffee house and bakery, they continued on having practically cleared it out of food. Chewing a donut covered in powdered sugar, Crown swallowed. "Let me get this straight now. Canada stretches from the Atlantic to the Pacific? As well as the Arctic Ocean?" At the nod, she continued. "And there are now canals so one does not need to head around Cape Horn or the Cape of Good Hope?"

Once more, Acadia nodded. "Correct." Then she snapped her fingers. "As an aside, you will find that a lot of the old sicknesses that you might be familiar with are gone. No one now in Canada gets polio and tuberculosis is somewhat easily cured." A smile then grew on the shipgirl's face before she continued. "And smallpox is now vanished from the world, humanity has defeated the Scourge."

There was more then one dropped jaw at that last piece of information with Weazel leaning forward. "Smallpox is... gone now? You're not pulling our legs?"

Slowly, the steel hulled shipgirl shook her head. "I am not. As a matter of fact, I have been around long enough to see it be utterly destroyed decades ago. No child now alive has had to suffer it."

A sob escaped from some of the Privateers at that as they wiped their eyes and at least one shouted "Praise the Lord, Almighty!" Eyes wet, Sir John looked at the others. "Indeed, praise be onto the world now."

Giving them some moments, Acadia simply waited. She of all people understood how they felt after all. Once they calmed down, she gave a small nod. "Now, we're almost to our destination. There's temporary accommodations there for you all, at least until we figure something out. But I will admit, they are quite nice and beat the pants off any Inn from your day." Pausing, she chewed her lip before shaking her head. "I... will also need to go over some hygiene matters with you in regards to your new bodies. As well, I suggest that you all enjoy a shower before bed that way you're nice and fresh for the morning and we'll clean your clothes."

More then one of the Privateers blinked at that. 'Showers?'

Not even an hour later found them all in a communal shower which had rapidly filled with steam. Hands pressed against the tilted wall, Sir John gave a groan as hot water ran off her. "Oh, this is just lovely. Not even the Lieutenant Governor had luxury like this! Doubt even the King did!"

Beside her, Crown gave a small nod and sigh. "Aye, this is lovely." Shaking her head and flinging droplets of water, she turned off her shower and turned to the much taller shipgirl beside her. "Mind passing me that cloth and some of that soap, would you?"

With a nod, Sir John reached over and grabbed the mentioned soap and cloth before handing it to her fellow Privateer. "Just word of warning, it might not be caustic like lye, but it still hurts when one gets it in their eyes."

Snorting, Crown nodded as she rubbed the bar of soap into the cloth. "Aye, I noticed that much. But it works up a good lather nonetheless." Then swiping it across her, she smiled a bit. "Still, it feels good. Like having been pulled up onto a beach to have all the foulness scraped from me hull."

Also turning off her shower, Sir John only hummed before grabbing a bottle of shampoo. Examining it for several moments, she shrugged before taking a glob and working it into her hair. "That it does, friend. That it certainly does."

One of the other Privateers pulled away from where they were enjoying their shower with a frown. "What do you all think of what has happened? We all were wrecked or broken up, but now here we are! And in the forms of girls, though our crews always knew we were women. Everything has changed..."

For almost a minute no one said anything before Liverpool gave a shrug. "We're strangers in a stranger land and time, I be thinking. But the Lord works in mysterious ways and I doubt He would have us come back for no reason. No, He has a plan, as murky as it seems to the rest o' us." Then she gave a smile and chuckle. "But we're Privateers and know to live for the here and now! And all of us have been given a second chance to live as we please!"

There were nods at that before Crown spoke up as she turned her shower back on and rinsed herself off. "Well, within the bounds of the law! We're not pirates after all!"

Laughs escaped from the others at that before they shook their heads. Once they were all done and given some clothes for the night, the group settled down in their temporarily assigned bunks. Laying back on her pillow, Liverpool glanced at the fairy which held a lantern to give some light. Arms behind her head, she gave a small sigh. "You know, Sir John? You were right when you stated that we are now living far better then even the King did in our day."

Slowly, said Privateer nodded as she pulled the blankets over herself. "Aye. No matter what the marrow brings though? I am thinking that I will still enjoy this second chance."

Her lips curling upwards, Liverpool nodded. "Agreed, friend. Good night, Sir John."

Sir John gave a nod and had the fairy blow out the lantern. "Good night, all."

Within moments, despite their thoughts awhirl, the group fell asleep.

______________________________________________________________________

Morning dawned bright and clear, with only the hint of a breeze. Most people though noticed that there was something of a thrum in the air. An odd feeling not too different from what people might feel right before a large thunderstorm breaks, and yet there was no feeling of danger. Something that many people dismissed before going about their day as the largest of the celebrations were scheduled to happen that day.

In Shannon Park, in the building put aside for briefings, Liverpool lead the privateers into the room only to pause. There, across from them, HMS Shannon stood along with some other Royal Navy ships. One of them was also recognizable to the Privateers and Crown grinned. "Bream, you old dog!"

Lips twitching, said ship gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. "Crown, good to see you all again..." Briefly, she stopped before shrugging. "As strange as our circumstances seem to be."

However, Sir John grinned as she realized something else. "Speaking of strange circumstances..." At the looks she got, she gestured at the Royal Navy ships, as well as one dressed in an odd red outfit, and herself along with the other Privateers. "It seems that some things have been reversed."

For the Royal Navy shipgirls it only took a few moments for them to realize what she had meant. All of them looked, and were, slightly hungover. Due to that, their uniforms were slightly rumpled, though barely noticeable. The privateers meanwhile stood there bright eyed and cheery, their bodies clean alongside their clothes which were freshly laundered and pressed. Amused, Shannon gave a small chuckle. "It would appear so, my friends."

Bream grinned a bit at the good natured ribbing she got with the others. Off to the side, she could also see HMS Halifax (1768) also grinning. It was sort of funny when one thought about it, though she knew that their Officers were annoyed at it. Shaking her head, the Royal Navy Schooner gestured at the table with food. "Okay, that's enough from you bunch. Come and grab some food here, there's more then enough to go around."

Reaching the table, Rover tipped her hat some. "Thank ye." With a look over it, she grabbed a tray with several plates before piling on the food. Eggs, ham, bacon, sausage, pancakes, pastries of all kinds joined fresh, exotic fruit. Large mugs were also filled with tea or juice as they worked their way over the table. Biting into an pastry and having her mouth filled with the taste of blueberries, Rover gave a smile as she walked over to the meeting table. "So what do you all think of our circumstances?"

With a glance around, HMS Halifax shook her head. "I don't know about the others, but all of this..." She waved a hand around. "Is strange. Halifax was barely a town when I was built and yet now it is a city that dwarfs London! London!" Frowning, the sailshipgirl shook her head. "It makes one's head spin a bit."

Bemused somewhat, Shannon looked at her. "Perhaps of our time in any case. From what it has been explained to me the London of our time could be dropped into the present day version and practically disappear."

That only got her shakes of various shipgirls' heads in regards to what she had just said. In their day, that many people in one place was completely inconceivable. For several minutes though they chatted among themselves and exchanged stories of how they appeared the night before. They were just finishing up when the door opened and two uniformed men walked in followed by two shipgirls. One, the Privateers recognized as being Acadia while the other shipgirl caused their eyes to widen before Crown muttered to herself. "Bloody hell, look at the size of those guns."

Clearing his throat, one of the two men smiled before speaking in a British accent. "I trust that you have all been having a good day. I am Commodore Adams-"

He did not get much further before all the shipgirls stood and saluted him, with Shannon staring at him wide eyed. "Commodore, Sir!"

Off to one side, the Canadian Officer's lips twitched in amusement and they could all see Adams mutter 'Cheeky bugger' at him before the Canadian coughed. "And I am Commodore MacDonald of Her Majesty's Royal Canadian Navy. With us is HMCS Acadia, head of the shipgirl patrols here in the harbour, and the Royal Navy Battleship, Queen Elizabeth. Let me welcome all of you back from Fiddler's Green, we're glad to see you."

Relaxing some, Shannon glanced at the others before saluting him as well and nodding. "It is quite good to be back, though we are somewhat at a loss as to what is going on. I was given something of an explanation, but..."

As Acadia walked to an odd object and turned it on, Adams gave a small tilt of acknowledgement. "Of course, though I expect it to be rather... bare bones or confusing, as it were. If you'll give us a moment, we'll have something more for you."

Less then a minute later, the lights dimmed and the screen behind him lit up. With a nod, MacDonald smiled a bit. "Now then, as boring as it might be it would be best for a short history lesson to the present day. We will try to keep it short." Taking a sip of water, he continued. "Now, most of you know of the War of 1812 and the result of that. Some of your crews might well have been around when the American Civil War happened in the 1860s. Now, due to various factors, in 1867, under Queen Victoria, the Colonies of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Upper Canada, and Lower Canada united in Confederation. This new Dominion was known as Canada, with Upper Canada becoming the Province of Ontario and Lower Canada becoming the Province of Quebec..."

Each of the newly summoned shipgirls listened as he gave an overview of history leading up to the time they found themselves in. Commodore Adams and Queen Elizabeth also chiming in. Acadia herself often spoke as well in regards to the Twentieth Century and the Twenty First as she had almost seen it all. Gesturing at the map behind her, Acadia gave a nod. "As you can see, present day Canada consists of ten Provinces. Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Newfoundland and Labrador, Prince Edward Island, Quebec, Ontario, Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Alberta, and British Columbia. In addition, there are three Territories in the form of the Yukon, Northwest Territories, and Nunavut, though that may change in a few years."

Confused, Sir John took the last of her food and swallowed it even as her head spun a bit. "Whatever do you mean that might change?"

Softly sighing, MacDonald shook his head. "There are two islands in the Caribbean named the Turks and Caicos. We've had discussions of them joining Canada as a territory or becoming part of a Province, in particular Nova Scotia. However, Blood Week happened and while most of the islands were razed by the Abyssals, a large number of refugees were rescued and evacuated by the RCN and USN during those dark days as well as via plane. In fact, thankfully, we got most of the population settled here in Nova Scotia, with a number joining the RCN. Because of events, and the fact that now the islands have been retaken they are unable to take the cost of rebuilding, the government in exile has already started negotiations to join Canada as the fourth Territory, though that is years away."

More then one pair of eyes widened at that, as well as the thought of Canada having islands in the Caribbean. Shaking her head, Shannon leaned forward. "You mentioned Blood Week? And something called Abyssals? Could you clarify?"

With a look at the Royal Navy Officer who nodded, Queen Elizabeth took position behind the podium. "There are beings known as Abyssals on the ocean and whom we have found evidence for throughout history, as far back as the days of Troy perhaps. Thankfully for the world, it seems that they were either in low numbers, or kept mostly to themselves until a few decades ago when they started to attack shipping. The number of attacks slowly rose over the years until August, 2005 when the event known as Blood Week occurred..."

Over the next twenty minutes, the Battleship gave an overview of what happened and had happened since. The sailshipgirls all looked sickened and stricken at the amounts of death and bloodshed that had occurred. It was far more bloody and brutal then their own wars had been. And once she was done, there was a pall of silence as they all digested what they had been told. Looking at the screen which showed a Re-Class, Liverpool frowned in thought. Yes, she had just been told some had allied themselves with humanity. That did not bother her too much, as switching sides happened even in her day. However, the rest... "I'm afraid that I don't understand." When the others turned to her, she continued while pointing at the image. "We can't fight these Abyssals, we'd be sunk almost immediately."

Eyebrow raised, Adams gave her a small frown. "A bit cynical, isn't it? Normally we have sailshipgirls stating that they can still fight."

That got him a scoff from Sir John. "We're Privateers, Sir. With all due respect, we are not warships and being what we are? There is no one else who knows better how to pick and choose their fights and know when a fight would likely end in their deaths. We'd all try and run from a warship like Shannon... well, most of us."

Crown only shrugged with a smug smirk. "She's right, you know." Her smirk then became a frown. "Even I would know better then to tangle with that bunch."

A small smile on her face, Acadia gave a nod. "Perhaps that is true enough. But that is not to say that we cannot use you. Even the smallest of you has the combined strength of both her hull and her combined crew. Also, even wooden shipgirls are far tougher then a normal human, and what might kill them would be shrugged off by you." She then looked them all over. "With at least the Privateers, the Royal Canadian Navy would be willing to extend a commission to you. Besides certain other... supernatural issues which you would be useful for, we could use you for patrols on the Minas Basin, Mahone Bay, and parts of the Bay of Fundy. We've found ourselves rather good at converting even wooden vessels to somewhat decent patrol vessels. And if nothing else, it would make a lot of civilians morale go up seeing you there."

Several of the Privateers looked at each other before Liverpool spoke up. "We'll need to discuss this first among us, of course."

Even though she had already guessed the answer, Acadia nodded. Adams, meanwhile, looked at the Royal Navy sailshipgirls. "In regards to you, besides certain postings, we have been creating a group of shipgirls under the Command of the First Sea Lord which you would do well in. You would likely be fighting on land, but as you are that is little issue unlike when you were ships. There are also other ways that you could serve Britain in this dark time."

Thoughtful, Shannon gave a small nod before glancing at the others. "Well, I see little issue, though I would like to know more first."

All that got her was smiles and nods from the Royal Navy personnel.

 

[darthcourt10]

Snippet 34: S0ngD0g13

Amidst the festive atmosphere of Halifax's Natal Day celebrations, a radio broadcast drifted in from out at sea...

"Halifax, Halifax, this is Sloop-of-War USS Alabama, broadcasting from twenty-five miles due east of the harbor. I was headed your way on leave and tangled with some Hostiles the day before yesterday; my shaft's busted and I'm barely making steerage-way on jury-rigged sails. I'd take it as a kindness if y'all could send me a tow; over."

Alabama felt her crew adjusting her ad-hoc sails and wiped a trickle of sweat from her eyes. There's days it just don't pay to get outta bed... "Halifax, Halifax..."

"Alabama, this is Halifax; we're dispatching a tug to come get you. Are you pursued? Over."

"Halifax, Alabama; negative pursuit. I had a damned Ro-Class nippin' my heels but I baited the little pest into a fogbank and unloaded everything I had into it from point-blank; pretty-sure my deckhands even got pistol-kills on the Imps, we were so close. Also, it's damned-good to hear from y'all; thought I was a goner for sure... Over."

........................................................

That evening, after a ride into port aboard a tugboat and a quick soak in an RCN Repair-Bath, Alabama was sitting outside the Shipgirl Housing at Shannon Park, tapping her foot with a crowd of Sailshipgirls around her as she played the concertina and sang...

"Farewell to Prince's Landing-Stage; River Mersey, fare-thee-well,
For I'm bound for Cal-i-for-nye-ay;
It's a place that I know right-well...

So fare-thee-well, my own true-love;
When I return United we will be;
It's not the leavin' of Liverpool that grieves me,
But my Darlin' when of thee...

I have signed on a Yankee clipper-ship,
'Davy Crockett' is her name;
And Burgess is the Captain of her,
And they say that she's a floating shame...

So fare-thee-well, my own true-love;
When I return United we will be;
It's not the leavin' of Liverpool that grieves me,
But my Darlin' when of thee...

I have sailed with Burgess once before;
He's a man that I know right-well;
If a man is a Sailor he can get along,
But if not then he is sure in Hell..

"So fare-thee-well, my own true-love;
When I return United we will be;
It's not the leavin' of Liverpool that grieves me,
But my Darlin' when of thee..."

The other Shipgirls listened raptly as Alabama paused her concertina and sang the last verse a cappella...

"The sun is on the harbor, Love;
How I wish that I could remain,
For I know it will be a long, long time,
Before I see you again..."

She launched back into playing with gusto and shouted, "All together!"

The other Shipgirls sang along, and the air vibrated with the echoing chorus...

"So fare-thee-well, my own true-love;
When I return United we will be;
It's not the leavin' of Liverpool that grieves me,
But my Darlin' when of thee..."

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Just frowning as they looked at instrument readouts, the young man groaned before scratching his head. "What in the world is that bunch doing?! None of this makes sense!"

A voice suddenly spoke up from behind him. "What doesn't make sense, Ralph?" Whipping around, the man noticed the glasses wearing woman behind him. "Something wrong with the sensor?"

With a snort, the man waved a wand over it and scowled. "No, not with the sensor unless you count it being all but burned out, Velma. But what the hell are the Canadians up to!? Every single magic sensing spell and device is going haywire and its all centered on Halifax."

Leaning over his shoulder, Velma frowned slightly. "Every sensor? Really?"

Eyes rolling, Ralph growled some. "Yes, every one east of the Rockies. They're basically blank with the sheer amount of magic in the air. Hell, according to this-" Pulling out a sheet, he handed it to her. "Its blanking out ones as far away as Mexico and now starting to do it west of the Rockies!"

Her eyebrows raising as she read, the witch looked at the readouts. "This is not good. How are we going to track breaches in the Statute if we can't even see them?" Sparks flew from one instrument and they both flinched back. "Okay, definitely not good."

Slapping the desk he was working at, Ralph groaned. "And no one knows what it is, except for them saying its nothing. The guys above us are too deadlocked in regards about it to even try and see what it is they're doing. Everyone who wants to investigate or have a look has someone across from them who wants to ignore it for our own problems. They're ignoring that it is already our problem! Not to mention that from what I heard, the ICW is not sure either!" Rubbing his forehead, he sighed. "I just wish that I knew what they were doing and if we could stop them..."

Over in Britain, an older witch was fussing over her own devices when the door opened and Fudge entered the room along with a scowling Amelia Bones. Said witch was extremely annoyed at being pulled from meeting with her department. "What is it this time, Mafalda!?"

However, Mafalda simply scowled back at her. "Its my sensors! You simply must do something about it! Whatever those Canadians are doing, it has completely blanked them! I cannot pick up any magic at all anywhere in Britain!" Wringing her hands, she shook her head. "Who knows what sort of trouble children are getting up to with magic!"

Amelia only gave her a flat look and had to fight every instinct not to snap back. 'Yes, because the only homes that your device works in are those of Muggleborns. And only because magical households would have too much magic flying around to tell.' Instead, she focused on something else. "Have you spoken with nearby countries to identify the problem?"

Sighing and giving Amelia a look as if to say how stupid Mafalda thought she was, the older witch grit her teeth. "Of course I have. But the French, the Portuguese, and the Spanish are reporting the same interference! Iceland is a write off as theirs can't take it either!"

Lips twitching, Madame Bones hummed. "Yes, Iceland, the country with a magical population almost equaling the muggle one. How troublesome for them, I'm sure."

That got her a glare with Mafalda's hand twitching. "Yes, Iceland, the one responsible for the biggest breaches of the Statute during Blood Week!"

However, Amelia just waved her off. "You know as well as I do that there is no proof of that besides mutters. Any statements that the magicals there helped hide their muggle brethren is just hearsay."

With a look between the two, Fudge coughed and decided to distract them before they went at it.

Again.

Fudge attempted to smile, though it came out more as a rictus grimace. "Ah, well, that is a bit troublesome. But unfortunately, there is not much that I can do you see. I have already been in contact with the Canadians and according to them? All they're doing is holding a large number of magical events for some holiday called Naval Day in Halifax. Not sure why they would be celebrate either their bellybuttons or their ships, but there you go. Canadians are odd anyways."

Throwing her hands into the air, Mafalda growled. "What about the ICW!? This is an International problem which means that they should be handling it! Why have they not done anything?!"

Voice dry, Amelia looked at her. "Because, as Fudge says, there is no evidence besides large amounts of magic that they are doing anything at all. Absolutely nothing." She then waved a hand. "I have even found out through my contacts that the ICW has several people there and investigated. All they found was magical sporting events and that is all." Turning, the witch walked out while ignoring the glare at her back. "Now, don't bother me about this silliness again."

Elsewhere in Britain, Porta walked to a nearby window and stared to the west. Not speaking, she just kept looking in that direction while beside her, OLD did the same thing. Even Reivana felt a pull, as if there was something happening. All the time, Porta had a pensive look on her face as her fingers tapped on the windowsill.

And she was not the only one paying attention. In her castle, Murdina was also at a westward facing window. She could feel a tingle through her, instincts within her calling out for her to head west. To get involved... to stop... something.

Instead, she glanced at her Steward and frowned. "Recall all our forces, now. I do not like this, whatever this is." With a nod and a small bow, her Steward left and the Abyssal Princess turned back to the west. 'I wonder what you're thinking now, Ancient Atlantic? The winds are blowing and the Wheels o' Fate are turning...'

Wandering just muttered to herself and burrowed more into Scapa Flow's side along with her daughters. The Scottish Installation herself had a thoughtful look on her face as she looked to the west...
_________________________________________________________________

Walking along with a wide grin, Liverpool winked at Shannon while giving a jaunty wave. "Come on there, friend! Smile a bit more!"

Blush on her cheeks as she waved, the British sailship gave the Privateer a look. "Out of all the things that I was expecting for my first... mission upon returning, it was not this! Myself participating in a parade!?"

As she glanced around, Liverpool could see people cheering as they walked past Lake Banook on the way towards the MacDonald Bridge. Once across, they would then walk along Barrington Street through downtown Halifax with the rest of the parade. There was a loud boom as one of the Privateers fired a blank from one of the cannons on their rigging to cheers. Chuckling, Liverpool gave Shannon a wider grin. "Aye, a hell of a thing. But I'm not one to complain-Hold that thought!"

Shannon could only blink as Liverpool ran to the side of the road and clapped some hands with young children there. All of them laughing and cheering. Even more so when she took one of the little girls up on her shoulders and did a small jig before setting her back down. Running back, she grinned at the Royal Navy shipgirl who rolled her eyes. "You're horrible."

Just shrugging, Liverpool snorted. "Look, the Sun is shining, we're all alive again, and everyone is having fun! Even you, as much as you don't want to admit it!"

With a shake of her head, Shannon smiled a bit while nodding at a couple who was holding up a sign welcoming her back. "Yes, well, I suppose that I am. Not that I ever expected to still be remembered this long after I was gone."

Only humming, Liverpool shot off one of her cannon. "Suppose so, but then I didn't think that people would be so interested in hearing me stories either. Or seeing me dance a jig! And yet, here we are!"

Lips twitching, Shannon took a deep breath before nodding. "Yes, here we are."

The parade going past Lake Banook was not the only one though as there were others. Parades were also happening in Bedford, Sackville, and Cole Harbour. Hundreds and thousands of people gathered along the arteries of the city and cheering, laughing, and generally enjoying life.

As Noon passed though, the parades were replaced by concerts. At Alderney Gate, ten thousand gathered to celebrate the birthday of their city. Similar numbers were at others except for the one on the Halifax Common, that one swelled to more then twenty thousand. Fairs and the like also opened up with people flocking in to take enjoyment of the rides and the like.

Even on the magical side, celebrations intensified massively. Like with the non-magicals, there were concerts in hidden, out of the way places. In one warehouse, a magical rave was happening. In the tunnels under the city, placed there hundreds of years ago, there were magical parades happening.

Not to mention that in every bar drinks flowed as bands blasted out music.

Unknown to most though, there were random summons all over the city popping up, mostly older sailshipgirls though. But there was enough of them that the RCN called in help with the RCMP. Which worked, right up until RCMP shipgirls started appearing and they needed to track them down.

About a hundred miles outside the harbor, a battle was being fought. German, Royal Navy, and Royal Canadian Navy Shipgirls with some American ones were fighting side by side as groups of Abyssals attempted to make runs for the harbor. Never in large groups, but in small ones that could be taken out. Even the RCAF was hitting everything that got within range while further out, Canada's Oberon's sank every Abyssal they could.

Though they were starting to get worried about their ammunition.

On the other hand, the Uboats were happy as clams. The words 'Target Rich Environment' sprang to mind. So many Abyssals to sink, so little time. And they were distracted and thus not watching out. Easy prey.

Needless to say, the Uboats were practically jumping with joy.

Poking her head out of the water, U-889 grinned at seeing an Abyssal Battleship sink beneath the waves before it detonated. "Ja! So many presents for us, and it is not even our birthday!"

Also poking her head out, another Uboat shook her head. "I suppose so, Schwester. But still, are they being drawn in by the celebration? Or..."

With a shrug, U-889 shook her head. "Who knows? But they are ours! Happy times have returned!"

Simply nodding, the two then sank back beneath the waves.
________________________________________________________________

Arms full, U-190 dodged around various people watching buskers do their thing on the Halifax Waterfront. Finally, she reached her destination with an twelve year old girl standing there. "Ah! Esquimalt! I am back!"

The shipgirl turned and smiled at the Uboat and licked her lips as she noticed what she had. "Beavertails!" A grin on her face, she took one of the offered ones. "Thanks, U-190. Hopefully it was not too much trouble for you."

With a shrug, she waved her off. "Nein, it was not too much trouble." At the raised eyebrow, U-190 chuckled. "It really was not."

Eyebrow still raised, Esquimalt turned to look at the area that the Uboat had come from. Even through the crowd, she could see a massive amount of people in line. However, she decided to drop it just the same. "For you? I suppose not."

Biting down onto her own pastry, U-190 glanced at her companion. Both of them off duty, her due to having been offshore for the past two days hunting Abyssals. One of the things they were doing was rotating them in and out so that none ran out of ammo or got tired. Dismissing those thoughts though, the German chewed the pastry in her mouth before swallowing. "Though perhaps I should be thanking you, Mein Fruendin. After all, you are allowing me to accompany you on this day."

Esquimalt gave a small shrug at that. "Maybe, though I don't mind your company. Besides which, we're friends and Natal Day should be enjoyed."

For several moments U-190 looked at her before looking down with a small frown on her face. "Ja, friends. Though is that not odd? The two of us being fruendin?"

Taking a bite of her own Beavertail, Esquimalt gave the matter some thought before shrugging. "You sank me decades ago. Besides, you served in the Canada for a time afterwards... Until they gave you a Viking funeral." That got a chuckle from the Submarine as they began to walk. Esquimalt then gave her a smile. "Besides, the two of us have lain together under the sea since you were sunk. I think that holding onto a grudge makes little sense then."

That made U-190 pause for a moment when she flashed back to her last moments. Water flooding her hull through the holes made by the ASW exercise as she descended towards the bottom. And then, looming out of the gloom the wreck of the girl beside her.

One who she had sunk herself and was being sunk in the same spot as in an odd sort of payment.

Moments later, her hull hit the ocean floor close to the other ship and the last sight she had as everything faded to black was said ship. A small smile on her face. 'I wonder... could we have been friends laying next to each other...?'

Her shoulder being shaken caused her to snap to the present day where a worried Esquimalt was looking up at her. "Is something wrong, U-190?"

Shaking her head, U-190 only smiled. "Nein, just a thought." Arm going over the other girl's shoulders, she started to guide her along. "Now, let us enjoy the day. There is still much to do!"

Giggles escaped from Esquimalt as they walked past the Dockyard Clock outside the Ferry Terminal. The clock itself ticking away as it had done so since 1792, while out on the water, Theodore Two went by. On the bow sat a ghostly little girl with a bright smile and a red cap on her head as she kicked out her legs.

All the time the seconds, minutes, hours ticked by.

Inside an office, another clock ticked as John looked at the map on the wall as behind him various Aurors of the Royal Canadian Magical Mounted Aurors. Most of them heading out to the land side borders of Halifax to take care of various things that were popping out of the woodwork. Some minor nasties and such, easily taken care of. But one also had other magicals to also worry about.

On the wall though, the massive, swirling vortex of energy centered on the harbour intensified in yet another pulse. If it had been a hurricane, it was now a Category Five storm and still getting stronger all the time. Sipping his coffee, he leaned in some as he noticed a smaller vortex spinning off to one side before it pulsed and suddenly disappeared as various instruments let out alarms. Pointing at it, best that he could as one could almost no longer see the entire area under the main vortex, he frowned. "Where is that?"

Behind him, one of the female Aurors stopped and leaned in before frowning. "There, Sir?" At his nod, she shook her head. "That's Peggy's Cove."

Eyes widening a bit, he snapped his fingers at her. "Get a team there, right now! Quick as you can!"

As she ran off, his eyes went to another small vortex, this one further out in Lunenburg. Said vortex was sucking in bits that was flung off the main one in Halifax. Becoming thoughtful, he sipped his coffee.

Meanwhile, in Peggy's Cove next to the world famous lighthouse a young woman stood almost unnoticed. Clad in an old fashioned dress, she was looking at herself with awe. If one looked, they would have seen an odd rigging around her that looked like wharfs as well as a lighthouse on one shoulder. But her awe came from something else.

How she could remember. A life so long ago when she was a young babe, the sole survivor of a shipwreck in the cove. How a family had taken her in and called her Peggy. Growing up with a deep attachment to the land, to the cove. People from all over coming to see her, her getting married and having children before growing old.

Then dying in her sleep in the town named after her, Peggy's Cove.

She could also remember opening her 'Eyes' and finding herself as something like a ghost. Invisible to all, but slowly able to effect things. It did not take her long to realize that as the story of the cove had become part of her, so she had become part of it. The spirit of the town. Over time, Peggy found that she could affect things, small things. More then a few people who slipped into the cove were rescued because she was able to get someone there just before it happened.

But she could remember two awful nights in particular. One happened almost fifteen years before. Peggy could remember the roar of the airplane as it came down. The screams of the passengers with her own. How she had woken every fisherman possible and gave them the feeling to get down to the cove. To save anyone who had survived the crash before the icy North Atlantic took them.

Yet, there were no survivors to rescue.

Peggy could remember standing on the water with tears running down her cheeks as the fishermen tried desperately to find someone alive, only to fail. She sobbed and fell to her knees as one of the crying fishermen fished an infant's body from the water, gently wrapping it in a blanket. And his heartbreaking when he found out that the dead infant shared the same name as him.

The whole time she stood unseen by him, cradling the spirit of the infant in her arms as the spirit of his wailing mother held onto her. All the dead, she gently held, protected within her arms until they moved on to the next life. Nothing, absolutely nothing was going to harm them as long as she was there.

And then she remembered the other horrible night that became a horrible week. A week of fire and death that rained down on the small community during what was known worldwide as Blood Week. Peggy could remember the taste of blood and ash in her mouth as the Abyssals attacked, lead by a Heavy Cruiser. How they didn't care as they killed tourist and inhabitant, child or parent, man or woman, young or old. It had filled her with rage. So much rage that she walked out to the leader and drew back her fist before punching, even if as a spirit it would do little.

Except, for a moment she was more then a spirit and her fist slammed into the face of the Abyssal, it's eyes widening before the entire head was obliterated.

For the next several seconds, the other Abyssals had stared in horror at her. One of them whispering 'Installation' with pure fear. But then they attacked and she fought back. Not to win, she doubted that she could. Instead, she did so to buy time. So that her people, the inhabitants of the cove. And once they were gone, and most of the Abyssals sunk, she remembered laying back on the rock and everything going dark.

Peggy could also remember waking up, months later when the people of the cove returned. As they rebuilt, her wounds healed. Soon enough, they lived the same lives they always did even though there was now fear. Granted, Peggy often watched the shipgirls from out of sight, especially after realizing that they could somehow see her. The female beings fascinated her like nothing else.

However, now she was once more physical. For a number of minutes she had stood there and sucked in deep breaths of sea air. Then clenching and unclenching her fists before laughing with tears in her eyes. Just the same though, Peggy turned at the pops nearby and smiled before looking in the direction of Halifax. She had a good idea what was being attempted and wondered if they could take her there.

After all, she knew from experience that some just needed a boot to the ass to wake up and get out of bed, something she was very good at.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Sitting on a bench on the Dartmouth Commons, the Mi'kmaq man hummed some as he looked out over the harbour. From where he sat, he could see the concert going on at Alderney Landing. But with a smile, his sight shifted and he was no longer looking at the material world any more.

Rather, he was now looking out at the awe inspiring form that the local spiritual plane had taken on.

Hair blowing along in the breeze, he looked upwards. Where there had been clear skies before was now a massive storm, swirling around and around like a whirlpool. Or perhaps a monstrous hurricane. It stretched out as far as his eye could see, massive banks of clouds composed of magical and spiritual energy rotating around a center point, an eye centered on the harbour itself. All of it moving fast enough that it could easily be seen with the naked eye.

Even as he watched though, he could see the crackle of magical and spiritual lightning shooting through the clouds. Spider webs that came and went while every once in a while some bolts shot downwards and struck various places. Once they dissipated, there would be a confused shipgirl there, though mostly of the old, sailship kind.

Looking towards Alderney Landing, he gave a nod as he could see a pillar of spiritual energy shooting up towards the clouds. The energy of thousands of people flowing upwards into the clouds. Others were also composed of magic where there were magical events happening. As well, the man could see pillars of light, beams really, shooting upwards from spots in the city. He knew that those were the places where barrels filled with the liquid which Habakkuk and the others had been found in were placed. Further fuel for the massive attempt at summoning.

Gently puffing on his pipe, the man stood up and continued to look around. In the spiritual realm though, he was no ordinary man. If one could see him, they would need to crane their heads back to take in the giant form, one that would have looked down on Wanko or even Scapa Flow. "Hmm... almost time."

"Is this even necessary? You could likely wake her up."

Turning, the man glanced at the tall. Mi'kmaq woman who walked up to him. But he could also see more then the woman, but also the canoe. His faithful canoe as large as an island and made of stone strong enough to withstand much. Puffing on his pipe, the man removed it from his mouth and smiled. "I could, perhaps wake her. But that would be breaking the rules."

Needless to say, that got him a look before she gestured at the storm before them. "And this is not?"

Lightly laughing, he spread his arms out. "No, it is not. Perhaps I gave them advice, but that is what I normally do. It is up to them to use it and they are doing so." Only shaking his head, he placed his pipe back into his mouth. "And, I think, K'jipuktuk would rather that her people wake her then I in such a case. It means more."

Somewhat bemused, the woman crossed her arms. "That does sound like her." However, then something else he had said came back to her. "Wait, you stated that it was almost time? Almost time for what?"

All the man did though was gesture as around the city, large generators came on line. Ones normally used to power small communities, but also warded. It was said that energy could not be created nor destroyed, only made into another form. Thus, the electricity was fed into special magical arrays that converted it into magic which was then released. In the spiritual realm, it showed as small beams that shot up into the clouds and made the vortex intensify still further. As the two watched, a wave of energy built up before rushing towards the center of the swirling "Clouds". Then it gathered into a massive pulse of light that shot down and slammed into the harbour for several seconds.

To those in the physical realm, nothing changed. But to the Mi'kmaq man and woman, they watched as the waters heaved while the ground quaked and shuddered. What could only be described as glowing cracks spread out from the impact site before fading away. Then a second pulse shot up from the harbour into the clouds and made them glow brightly for a moment before a massive bolt slammed into the naval base. The man just blinked at that before raising his eyebrows, his next words getting him a look from his companion. "Interesting, that was unexpected of her."

Inside the Summoning Chambers, the on station guard was humming as he flipped through a newspaper. Hearing grumbles, he looked over at the young girl sitting in another chair. "Its your own fault that you're here, Cherny. Seriously, you should have known better."

Scowling, the small shipgirl looked at him. "Oh, don't give me that, Andy! Besides, you put me up to it!"

With a sigh, Andy nodded. "I know, and that's why we're both here at boring guard duty instead of enjoying the festivities. In my defense though, I was suffering from having one of those alcohol, energy drink mixes in me."

A grimace on her face, Charny shook her head. "I swear though, it should have worked! The mixture of beep, high octane fuel, and that pepper up potion stuff should have allowed the Corvettes to practically fly across the water." Scratching her head, she frowned in thought. "Instead of just vibrating through walls."

Only shrugging, the young man shook his head. "Yeah, well, that just means that we're stuck here. In the Summoning Room with nothing going on and where nothing will go on-"

Before he even finished, there was a flash of light and both their heads snapped around as summoning supplies in one corner vanished. From inside the pool, a voice called out in utter confusion. "Um, hello? Is anyone there... wherever here is?"

Eyes wide, Andy and Charny rushed over and looked into the Summoning Pool where a number of teenaged girls were looking around in confusion. Or at themselves with disbelief on their faces. Feeling Andy's eyes on her, Charny frowned as she looked over their hulls. "They're definitely Cruisers, Light ones. Looks like Five Inchers at least, four of them each. But... I don't recognize them."

Clearing his throat, the young man caught the girls attention and called out to them. "Hello? Welcome to CFB Halifax... may I ask your identities?"

With blinks, they looked at each other before one of them stepped forward. "Um, I don't think that we got names? Though... we're N-2 class Cruisers and I think that we're Canadian?" Then she nodded with a small frown. "Yes, we're Canadian built here in Halifax, or something is telling me that though I don't know any more than that."

Just mouthing it to Charny, Andy got a shrug from her as she had no clue. Walking to the phone, he called it in only to find that they were confused as well. After all, there were no such Cruisers. It was not until they contacted the Royal Navy, who in turn contacted a historian back in Britain that they got an answer that shocked them.

And it was not the last such event regarding shipgirls.

However, just over two hours later there was yet another massive pulse and in Citadel Hill, two brown eyes opened up before their owner sat up. Looking around in confusion, the young woman blinked before looking herself over in utter bafflement. "What in God's name?" Slowly, she got to her feet and found that she was tall for a woman, being nearly eight feet. Despite her curiosity regarding the voices she could hear outside, she looked before a thought occurred to her and she reached into her pocket to pull out a full length mirror which made her raise an eyebrow. "Odd, useful, but odd. No matter, let me see."

Placing it in front of her, she stepped back far enough to better see herself and her eyebrows rose upwards. Dressed in a red coat, though one that strained at her bust, she was dressed like a British General from the late 1700s, complete with a sword at her side. In the mirror she could even see the tight, white pants that covered her legs and made them and her behind stand out. But she also had a rather odd belt on as well, with "Corners" on it made of stone. More than that, along the top of the thick belt, she could also see cannons.

Her cannons.

Leaning down, she smiled a bit at seeing a tiny, squished man in a British Army uniform at one of the cannons. "Hello there? Do you happen to know what is going on here?"

Said little man blinked before shrugging. "Tally Ho."

A frown on her face, the woman furrowed her eyebrows. "No? How very strange." Turning, she noticed that on her back was what looked like a backpack in the form of a stone building with chimneys from which smoke issued. However, her curiosity only increased as she heard voices outside the room she was in and walked to the window where her eyes widened in surprise. All throughout the area she could see people walking around. Except these were not soldiers, but people in strange clothing. Here and there though, she could see others in familiar uniforms but something told her that they were not soldiers.

It took a few moments, but then her mind clicked and she sucked in a breath. "I… remember now. I'm no longer an active fort." Frowning, she continued to watch the area and people coming and going as her lips slowly curled into a smile of fondness. Other memories came to the fore as if she had cleared her mind of sleep. Yes, Citadel Hill, Fort George, was now staring out at herself with amazement and joy. She was awake somehow. The last time she remembered coming even close to as awake was…

Shudders ran down her back as she remembered that awful day. A bad feeling had been building in her for some time before it happened on a similar August day. How distant booms heralded monsters attacking her city, her harbor. What she had been built to defend even if she had never got the chance before to show her mettle. To show her strength.

And said chance had finally came as the city called out and she answered.

Even as re-enactors and staff guided people deep into the fort's tunnels, hoping that both those inside the fort and those seeking shelter from the chaos outside would be safe, she was roused. Before their shocked gazes, ghostly anti-aircraft from both World Wars appeared both inside the fort and on her slopes firing upwards at the monstrous aircraft attacking the city. Some of those with binoculars could see similar firing coming from George's Island along with their artillery. It was much the same for those in Eastern Passage with the fortifications on McNab's. Swaths of the Abyssals craft in the air were swatted like flies.

Some of them did not have bombs on them, but parachutes appeared over the city. Abyssal Paratroopers landed in the city's streets to sow death and chaos even as Halifax Police and RCMP officers responded. Numbers of them died while manning barricades to let civilians escape. Then Fort George threw open her gate and an army of ghosts marched out and headed into the city. Musket and rifle fire soon met the Abyssal forces as well as cannon towed by horses long since turned to spirit. Bayonets and ghostly sword clashed with black, corrupted Abyssal knives and blades while others were struck down by arrows shot by long dead Mi'kmaq.

Meanwhile, the fort's heavy cannon fired again and again at any Abyssal that managed to penetrate into the harbour itself. More than one was caught between her guns and those of the Fort on George's Island. Even as smoke and death filled the seas, skies, and streets of the city, still they fought with Citadel Hill sheltering all that entered it. The dead fought alongside the living, magical and non-magical alike to protect their home.

Halifax and her fortifications had long been known as "The Warden of the North". And while they had never been tested before that day. They held and proved that the title was not given uselessly. Bruised and battered, the city had held against a massed Abyssal attack. And continued to hold against further incursions with more than once having her fortifications answer Abyssal guns with their own. Every time the city called upon her defenders, they answered.

Elsewhere in the world similar things had happened. Ghostly Swiss Guard and Roman soldiers fought side by side with their modern counterparts against Abyssal versions of Mussolini's fascists. In London, knights charged while police backed them up into groups of ghoulish airborne. In New York City, transparent mobsters appeared and mowed down any Abyssal troops that made it to shore alongside the flesh and blood members of the National Guard and NYPD who laid down their lives in those days. In Hawaii, the Ghost Marchers also appeared and ignored the living for their mutual enemy while in Mexico, long dead Conquistadors fought alongside Aztecs and Mayans.

In Tokyo and other places within Japan, Samurai rose from their graves as spirits and fought alongside the JSDF, Japanese Aurors, and Yokai as well as Kami.

As she broke free of her thoughts, Fort George, Citadel Hill, leaned against the windowsill as she looked at the activity outside. Upon her lips was a small smile of satisfaction at seeing the city she has guarded for so long once more healed of its wounds. Then her smile turned thoughtful as a thought struck her as she also realized that she was fully awake and energized. 'I wonder why am I like this now?'

Of course, that was when her Quartermaster rumbled out that she needed supplies and the sooner the better. With a small smile, she chuckled turned from the window. "Do not worry, I think that I can get some supplies. Wouldn't do to have my record besmirched by a mutiny, now would it?" Another rumbled escaped from her middle as she reached the stone wall. Of course, she recognized the hidden room as it had been used by the local magical Aurors long before there had been a Canada. And that afterwards, they sealed it up and made it so none would know of it.

Reaching the stone wall, Fort Geroge entered the stone as if it was simply water. After all, the whole building was part of her after all. Exiting through one of the walls, she straightened her coat and shirt the best that she could. Though the old fort did grumble a bit at how it was a bit difficult due to her… fortifications. Shaking that off though, she glanced around before she caught sight of one of the female Re-enactors. "Ah! Miss Emily! Wonderful to see and speak to you."

Utterly lost, Emily internally frowned in confusion at the oddly dressed, and tall, woman. There was something though in her subconscious that told her that she did know the person walking towards her. And quite well at that as well. Trying to put on a smile, even though she kept glancing at the woman's legs which due to her pants hiding nothing kept attracting attention. "May I help you?"

Just smiling, Citadel Hill chuckled as a twinkle entered her eye. "I would hope so, for you see something most strange, and yet wonderful has occurred…"
_________________________________________________________

Gently puffing a cigarette, Miranda watched as the Sun touched the horizon as she stood on the roof of Purdy's Tower One. From where she was, she could see the concert going on at Alderney Landing. And when she looked over her shoulder, she could see a great big celebration at Citadel Hill as well as at the Grand Parade in front of City Hall. Hearing a crack nearby, she softly snorted. "You're late, John."

The wizard only shrugged as he patted himself down and walked up beside her. "Not really my fault, Miranda. You try dealing with some of those idiots from the ICW poking their noses everywhere. What we're doing has everyone on our side of the divide in a tizzy even though we keep telling them that we're not doing anything."

Needless to say, that got another snort from Miranda and a bemused smirk. "Which is complete and utter bullshit."

Amused, John gave a shrug at that. "True enough, but they don't know that its bullshit." Then a grimace crossed his face and he shook his head. "Not that it stops them from being completely and utterly annoying to us. Never have I wanted to punch someone in the face so much."

Chuckling, Miranda shook her head. "I think that I know the feeling myself. Granted, I've been having something of a busy day myself."

With a long look at her, the Auror gave a nod. "From what I have heard that is not surprising. Shipgirls showing up everywhere, unbuilt ships suddenly showing up in the Summoning Room at CFB Halifax. Not to mention Peggy's Cove, Citadel Hill, George's Island, McNab's Island all waking up. Rather surprised that you are even here if I am to be completely honest with you."

Simply grimacing, the woman ran a hand through her hair. "And I'll admit, I am surprised that I managed to make it here in the first place. But… that is what subordinates are for." That got her a laugh from John before she shook her head. "Well, no one knew coming into this what would happen…. Even with the advice of our mutual friend. No one has ever summoned an Installation on purpose before."

Humming as he took a sip from a flask, the Auror considered her words. "Perhaps. But then, we still went into this knowing that. If we manage this, the war will go much, much easier and we all know that." Taking another sip, he tilted his head to the side. "While I am not quite as surprised as I should be that Peggy's Cove has been summoned, I am surprised that the forts have been. One would think that they would be part of Halifax once she gets summoned."

Gently puffing her cigarette, Miranda was silent for several moments. Said smoke then ran out of tobacco to burn and so she placed it into a small case and closed it. "I was wondering that myself. But talked to some people over at the base and some eggheads for the project back in Ottawa. Mine and yours." Glancing at him, she raised an eyebrow. "They have a few ideas on that as a matter of fact. Interesting ones too."

Intrigued, John glanced at her with a small frown on his face. "Oh?"

Slowly nodding, Miranda looked out onto the harbour. "We don't know a whole lot about Installations or how they work. But they did note that sometimes Abyssal ones have autonomous units of sorts with them. The Floating Fortress and Escort Fortress types. You know, the ones called Abyssal Chomps after that enemy from Mario."

Eyebrow raised, John was silent before rolling his eyes. "Never played any of those No-Maj games. But I know which ones that you're talking about. Do they think that these count as non-Abyssal ones?"

Placing her hands in her pockets, the government agent nodded. "They do. The various fortresses, though part of the same defense complex, were all separate in the end. Hence, they think that they're separate from Halifax in a way. But, they also operate like those Abyssal Units in much the same way." At his look, she shrugged. "Like I said, we're operating on little information. But those are our best guesses on this."

Only shaking his head, John groaned. "Oh for the days of normal magical bullshit."

Lips twitching, Miranda let a chuckle escape from her lips. "That's hilarious coming from you." Then her smile fell some and she became thoughtful. "If this works though, the next one should be easier."

Grimacing, John shook his head. "If there is a next one. It all depends on the ICW reaction when it happens as we'll be telling them that it was an accident."

With a glance at him, she frowned. "The Statute is falling soon enough though."

Just sighing, John ran a hand through his hair and looked out onto the harbour. "You know that, I know that, a good chunk of the world likely knows it at this point. But there are a lot of scared people out there. And said people have a lot of political power." Waving a hand, he shook his head. "Most likely, we won't be able to do anything until after the Statute's fall because as soon as they see another event, they'll swarm all over that like ants onto melted ice cream."

Tone dry, Miranda spoke up. "Or flies on shit." At his snort, she grimaced. "I do agree that chances are we won't do it again for a few years. Though if the eggheads are right, we can prepare Esquimalt for it over the next few years. That will give us two here in Canada. Or perhaps use what we learned from the others and wake smaller ones, like in St. John's. In any case, it will become easier to do so."

Rubbing his chin in thought, John gave a nod to that. "At least that is what the eggheads say."

Hands in her pockets as the Sun continued to sink below the horizon, Miranda sighed into the chilling evening air. "It makes sense though. If Installations are anything like shipgirls, then summoning the first few will be hard. And after the first couple are summoned on purpose, slowly they will become easier and easier to wake. But in the end, we can only hope that this works."

Eyes turned to the sky above, John frowned. "Yeah, that is true enough, I suppose. But hey, both sides are working together on this and our chances are high. And we already woke up several Installations around Halifax to boot, so already it's a success!" Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pocket watch and opened it. After a few moments the wizard nodded. "Well, whatever happens will happen in the next four hours. Its starting to reach a crescendo. The past two years of celebrating the War of 1812 with a number of events, last year's Natal Day weekend. And now this. We got no better chance than we do now."

A slight smile on her face, Miranda nodded. "I do believe that you are right my friend."
_________________________________________________________

Crowds across the city were all getting more and more pumped as time went on. On the Halifax Commons, Great Big Sea was putting on one of their better shows. The crowd itself had swelled well past twenty thousand. In Bedford, Matt Mays was pumping the people there and listening while in Cole Harbor, Wintersleep was doing the same.

Over at Alderney Landing, Joel Plaskett and the Emergency was also getting the audience excited as time ticked past eight o'clock and had already reached nine at night.

"Hey good looking, why the frown?
You always look better when it's upside down!
You say that you got nowhere that you're going to?
Can I go nowhere with you?

I took the Dartmouth Ferry into the town,
Spent my pennies bumming around.
Tryin' to find a way to tear a strip off these blues.
Can I go nowhere with you?"

Just out on the water, large numbers of boats had gathered close by. Besides them, there were large numbers of shipgirls as well. Some of them bouncing and singing along. Here and there, some shipgirls who were together were dancing on the waves to the song. On shore, people were jumping up and down with the music. Everywhere there was a rising sense of excitement.

Oddly, the crowds felt like they were becoming energized, as if there was a static in the air that caused hairs to raise even as blood rushed through veins and arteries while hearts pounded in chests. For the shipgirls, they felt their boilers heat up close to redline. Their bodies tense even through their enjoyment, as they were caught up in the celebrations.

However, that was all ignored.

Dancing along with the music, Steve held his pregnant Selkie girlfriend close as the time ticked past nine thirty. Arms around his neck, Muriel smiled up at him, joy filling her heart along with the excitement in the air. "Happy Natal Day, Steve."

Brightly smiling, her boyfriend gave a chuckle. "Happy Natal Day, Muriel. Especially as its with you."

Then leaning down, he pulled her into a kiss. One that soon deepened to wolf calls and whistles from those around them. As the time passed nine forty five, some noted that the lights began to flicker across the city. But then they turned back to the festivities with a shrug, even as the level of energy grew higher and higher. Nine fifty came and shipgirls headed to their spots out on the surface of the harbour, each one having a designated destination.

Outside the mouth of Halifax Harbour, the battle against Abyssals and others intensified as they desperately made a last charge for Halifax. Guns forgotten, it soon became a close in brawl. Clotheslining a Re-Class, SMS Baden didn't even bother firing her nearly empty guns, Instead she simply leapt on it and began to punch it in the face over and over again. Nearby, a roaring Revenge had a Ta-Class in a headlock and smashing her fist into the side of its head while she used her legs to trap a Tsu between them, and was trying to rip its head from the neck.

Not far off, three Fletchers were trying to kill a Ha-Class via bringing it down via their combined weight. Before they could, a Uboat leapt from the waves and promptly knifed said Cruiser in the neck. Under the waves, an American Submarine suplexed a Ka-Class into the ocean floor.

Closer to Halifax, Wisconsin skipped across the waves with blood spurting from her busted nose. In front of her, the Abyssalized H-44 type Battleship Water Princess charged at her about to blast her as she shot by. Getting into a crouch, Wisky looked through one bloody eye only to blink as a voice spoke up. "GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT! YOU STUPID IDIOT TOOK MY NOSE ONLY TO FUCKING BREAK IT LIKE YOUR OLD ONE!? ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME!?"

Wide eyed, the Iowa could only boggle as a familiar Battleship appeared and buried her fist into the stomach of the Abyssal while ichor spewed from the Princess' mouth. "K-Kentucky!? That you!?"

Looking back, USS Kentucky, BB-66 smirk. "Damn straight! No idea what the fuck is going on, but someone tossed me out here. And I'm not alone."

The Abyssal got to her feet only to stagger back as sixteen inch shells blasted her in the face. Out of the smoke, Illinois strode with a grin. "Surprise, Motherfucker." Making her way past Wisconsin, the Iowa pulled her sister to her feet. "Now, get to your feet, Wisk. Time to kick some ass Iowa style!"

Grinning, Wisky gave her a quick hug before the three charged the Battleship Water Princess, Wisconsin slamming into her knees while Kentucky impacted her stomach. Illinois simply leapt into the air and grabbed the screeching Abyssal's neck before twisting and slamming her into the waves. Moments later, the other two Iowas jumped on top and began to beat the shit out of her.

Elsewhere, the Light Cruiser Quebec was snarling as she held a Ro-Class in either hand and was using them like flails against any Abyssal that got close. "TABARNAK! OSTIE D'AMATEUR!"

Bonaventure just shook her head and continued to try and choke the Wo whose neck she had an anchor chain wrapped around to death. "LANGUAGE! THERE ARE DESTROYERS AROUND!"

All she got though was a string of French curses that made her cackle, though she did have to do a blink at the sight of Hamilton and some other Coast Guard Shipgirl latched onto a sea serpent.

The time struck nine fifty-five and both the Mi'kmaq man and his companion were watching in the Spiritual realm. Now the waters in the harbour were sloshing and spewing into the air. Massive waves slammed back and forth along the shoreline as water shot high into the air. At the same time, the ground itself heaved and quaked as if there was a massive earthquake going on. Giant, glowing cracks appeared and disappeared everywhere one looked. The whole time, the spiritual wind blew at such strength that buildings would have been ripped from their foundations if they were physical.

From where the two stood, they could see everything. Where before at the concerts and large groups of people had been spiritual updrafts, now there were massive twisters of energy shooting into the clouds. Clouds that now began to approach the midway Sun with how bright they were glowing while cracks composed of light. Puffing on his pipe, the man just smiled a bit. "Almost there."

When the clock hit nine fifty-eight, the shipgirls stopped in their positions and those with them pointed their guns into the air at maximum elevation. Other shipgirls, such as the three Olympic sisters in the Basin had their crews rush out as they pointed flare guns at the sky and set the fireworks.

At nine fifty-nine, the waters in the harbour started to slosh as the concerts quietened down and every one held their breaths. On Georges Island in the harbour, Fort Charlotte stood up as above the clouds in the real world were rotating around the harbour and the city itself. Seconds ticked down and a glow began to take form in the waters, as if rising from the depths.

Then... the clock struck ten o'clock.

Fireworks on barges and the bridges all went on throwing massive explosions of light and color into the sky. Similar firework displays happened at Lake Banook and Micmac, Grand Parade, the Halifax Commons, Bedford, Sackville, and Cole Harbour. Said displays were added too as those shipgirls with cannons and guns fired illumination rounds into the sky with loud booms.

Other shipgirls, such as the Olympic Sisters and various other civilian ones fired off flares and fireworks from their decks adding to the spectacle. Even the sailship girls got into it as they fired their cannons using blanks while the guns on Citadel Hill, Fort Charlotte, McNabs island also fired off. Lights and thunder went from one end of the harbour and into the Basin.

Inside of Halifax City Hall, Peggy's Cove pulled back one leg before lashing out with it at seemingly empty air. "WAKE UP YOU DAMN LAZYBONES!"

Within the spiritual realm, Glooscap's smile became a grin as a laugh escaped him when the glow in the clouds intensified to blinding before all of it gathered at a center point and slammed down. Even he had to close his eyes as the spiritual world went white and a roar could be heard as around the city, strategically placed stockpiles vanished. In MACUSA, the people watching the magic sensors dove for cover as they glowed and then detonated in explosions of multicolored sparks. Over in Britain, Mafalda could only slam the door behind her as the instruments in the Ministry of Magic literally melted. Elsewhere, instruments merely burned out or ceased functioning for some time.

At Windsor Castle, a young woman's head snapped away from where she was having a late tea and stared to the west. "My word..."

On top of the Tower of London, a young woman in a black hood, and a cloak covered in raven feathers also looked in the same direction. Within her nearly black eyes were curiosity before she frowned. "Now what was that?"

Gibraltar blinked from where she was standing close to a grave before, much to peoples confusion, she began to cackle.

In Sasebo, Jane paused for a moment and boggled at a large, transparent woman who looked to the east with a surprised, though sleepy look. She had rigging on and her hat was like something from the Touhou games. Especially since it had a crane attached of all things. Then before the youngest, though not for much longer, Richardson's face she faded away.

Meanwhile in Halifax, as the last of the fireworks died along with echoes, a pair of eyes opened for the first time in the physical world and their owner blink with them.

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K

A/N; Something silly that came to mind, with the fact that seemingly everyone tied/related to physical locations is apparently feeling them trying to wake up Halifax.
*-*-*

Jin tossed and turned, agitated and unable to sleep. Mortal though she now was and tried to be, even as flesh and bone, there was a part of her that was something older and primal. Not just spiritual and kami, but elemental. In spite of the fact that she was no longer of stream, and silt, and the grass upon her banks, her remaining power still allowed her a level of attunement with water, and thus the earth and the spiritual, that few truly could comprehend.

Which was all well and grand when she needed to kick shit and dent faces, but right now, it's been two fucking days and she was trying to fucking sleep.

Angrily, the mizuchi pulls her pillow around her head in an attempt to block both her ears while she buries her face in the mattress. Of course, being something she can sense more than actually hear, the sum result amounts to her simply feeling physically uncomfortable, on top of magically agitated.

Furiously, the mizuchi tries to 'angry' herself to sleep. It doesn't really work.

At this point, she's seriously considering just going as close as she can to human form for the next few hours, if only so it'll deaden the background noise of whoever is fucking around with the forces beyond mortal ken somewhere. For all the noise it's causing, Jin hasn't received any heads up from any of the Heavenly Kami she actually cares about, nor Ryuujin's court since she technically answers and swears fealty to him by dint of being a dragon. Not that anyone as low ranking as Jin ever actually hears from the King himself these days.

Thus, as far as Jin is concerned, this is a mortal problem and not worth getting worked up about from a kami-point of view.

Alternately, the big gods are still trying to figure out how to respond or which of their mortal agents that still remain in this day and age they want to involve. Which considering the number of shit lists she's on, probably still makes this not her problem.

She just hopes her mom caught her portkey out of the US in time. This feels like it's coming from that direction.

Annnnd now she's too worried to sleep anyway.

Frustratedly, the mizuchi shifts and rolls under her covers, fruitlessly plumping her pillow to try and get comfortable.

Her phone blares with a buzz, alerting her to the fact that someone has just texted her.

Jin's response is to pull her pillow over her face and scream, before finally rolling over and grabbing her cellphone from among the clutter of her bedside table. Apparently, it's a message from her Kohai. It takes Jin's tired brain a moment to remember that poor Shiromizu probably hasn't felt anything like this in rescent memory, connected to and aware of her spring as she would be now, compared to Blood Week when all the big dogs last went nuts with the magically charged and 'miraculously fortunate' events.

Starring at her phone for a moment, Jin makes a face and then stabs out a reply, telling her young kohai that there's nothing she needs to worry about just yet, and that Jin-sempai is on the case and should have answers soon enough.

With a grimace, the mizuchi then slides out of bed. She's too tired and pissed off to bother going through the normal human motions of getting ready right now. Instead the draconic-onryo glances at her yesterday's clothes messily strewn across the floor, before collapsing into a puddle of water. Rather than wetting the carpet and clothing however, the liquid moves like mercury. Shifting, gathering, and flowing from the collapsed shorts and tank top, to the jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket and gloves, before reforming in the shape of Jin, now wearing her chosen apparel.

Slouching over to her dresser, the mizuchi then pauses only to put on her favored fang-shaped earnings, before grabbing her wallet and keys. Angrily swiping her phone from the bed as she begins stomping for the door, Jin then begins scrolling through her contacts list.

Even those not of the Kami or elements, probably have to realize something is up by now. Surely someone must have some clue about who's dicking around with what right now.

The dragon then growls to herself. If it's Takamimusubi-no-Kami dicking around with timelines again, she didn't- well... Actually, she did care that he was one of the Kotoamatsukami.... That was kind of a bit out of her league.

And by a bit, she means absolutely.

Still, after what happened last time and how pissed off and confused it left everyone when there were so many more simpler options if he'd just asked for help, it wasn't like there'd be a shortage of volunteers to help beat some sense into that fucker with his cherry tree and then strangle him with his stupid string.

 

[darthcourt10]

yukicrewger Omake: Bedford Summoning

Still find "Sandwich Battery" amusing.

*-*-*-*

A man sat out on the beach outside Halifax, drinking and celebrating in his own way. Sitting down on a log, he pulled out his guitar and began singing a song that was on his mind.

"Hoping you take that jump, but don't fear the fall
Hope when the water rises, you built a wall
Hoping the crowd screams out, screaming your name
Hope if everyone runs, you chose to stay
Hope that you fall in love, and it hurts so bad
The only way you can know, you give all you had
And I hope that you don't suffer, but take the pain
Hope when the moment comes, you'll say...

I, I did it all
I, I did it all
I owned every second, that this world could give
I saw so many places, and things that I did
And with every broken bone, I swear I lived

Hope that you spend your days, but they all add up
And when that sun goes down, hope you raise your cup
I wish could witness all your joy and all your pain
But until my moment comes, I'll say...

I, I did it all
I, I did it all
I owned every second, that this world could give
I saw so many places, and things that I did
And with every broken bone, I swear I lived

With every broken bone I swear I lived
With every broken bone I swear I

I, I did it all
I, I did it all
I owned every second, that this world could give
I saw so many places, and things that I did
And with every broken bone, I swear I lived
I swear I lived"

Having closed his eyes to singing. He opened them as he finished the song, only to fall backwards at the sight before him. A rather tall girl, who looked about the age of an elementary scool student despite her high, wearing a once piece swimsuit sat on her heels in front of him, with a strip of seaweed on her left shoulder and two decorated in her hair, and finally scuba goggles around her neck.

Bedford Basin clapped happily at the musician and cheered "Another one! Another one!"

 

[darthcourt10]

Weaver

Monday, 5th August, 2013

"Got something on your mind?"

Blinking, Awa Maru turned away from the train window and looked at the corvette sat next in the seat next to her who'd spoken to her in Japanese.

"Yes, but nothing that hasn't been on my mind for the last few days."

HMS Vetch nodded understandingly.

"It is a lot to take in. It took me a while to get my head around everything that's happened and you were gone for a lot longer than I was so you've got even more to think about."

Awa Maru just nodded. To be honest that was something of an understatement. Suddenly finding herself with the body of a young woman had been a shock, as had finding herself in England when the last thing she remembered was being scrapped in Japan. At least it was a part of England that she and her crew were familiar with, although the circumstances behind her last visit had been unfortunate to say the least.

What weighed on her mind the most though was what had happened since she was scrapped. When she was told about the Abyssals, Blood Week and the war that followed and was still on going she had been appalled but finding out about what had happened in the decades following her scrapping had been in some ways worse. When she'd run aground all those years ago and subsequently refloated Britain and Japan had been allies, as had been the case for most of her first life, and one of her proudest moments had been when she'd transported a diplomatic gift of three thousand and twenty cherry trees from Yokohama to Seattle. Yes, relations had soured towards the end of her first life and there had been signs of things in Japan taking a darker turn but she'd never imagined that things would get as bad as they did, that they'd lead to war between her homeland and those they'd once called friends. According to what she'd been told and what her crew remembered things had really started going downhill around the time she was scrapped and had kept getting worse in the years that followed. If she was honest with herself she was glad that she hadn't been around to witness it first hand and glad to hear that relations between the three countries had long since been repaired and that they were now allies once again, closer than ever before.

Vetch patted her on the arm.

"Cheer up. Today's your first trip outside the base that isn't to a cemetery since you were summoned. Don't let history ruin it."

"I'll try not to. You didn't have to come with me you know, I dont want to put you to any trouble."

"It's not any trouble. It's been a while since I spent some time off base while off duty and this is as good a reason to do so as any."

She smiled.

"Besides, I'm an escort vessel and you're a cargo ship in unfamiliar territory. I'd be remiss in my duty if I didn't accompany you."

"Maybe but is it really necessary for me to have five escorts?"

She gestured at the four girls sat across the aisle, all of whom looked even younger than Vetch with one of them looking extremely nervous.

Vetch shrugged and lowered her voice when replying

"Between me and you I think its just an excuse for them to get La Bastiaise out for the day."

The other corvettes looked towards them when they heard La Bastiaise's name but Vetch just smiled at them until they turned back to their own conversation. A minute or so later their train's imminent arrival at the station that they'd have to change trains at was announced and they set about preparing to disembark and run the gauntlet of a busy station that may or may not contain a number of shipgirl fans. They'd already had to deal with that sort of thing once today and Awa Maru wasn't eager to repeat the experience.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Standing on the train station platform, Dan looked sideways at the friend standing next to him.

"What are you looking so happy about?"

Luke grinned wider.

"Shipgirls. Six of them. And they're coming to us."

Dan sighed and whacked his friend on the back of his head.

"Okay, first off, don't be that guy. Secondly, apart from Awa Maru they're all corvettes so hitting on them is the sort of thing that gets you put on a list. Thirdly, again, don't be that guy."

Luke sighed, rather over-dramatically in Dan's opinion.

"Okay fine."

Luke stopped looking quite so giddy after that but Dan continued to periodically give him the side-eye until the train pulled into the station. As Awa Maru stepped out the door, Dan was surprised to see that her usual traditional Japanese attire had been exchanged for modern western clothing. Then again, the five girls with her were in civvies and he supposed that when on public transport it was best to try to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. He waved at them as he walked over.

"Hi. Was your trip okay?"

The liner nodded.

"It was fine. Hall-san, let me introduce HMS Vetch, La Malouine,
La Bastiaise, Nasturtium and Fleur de Lys. Corvettes, this is Daniel Hall-san and Luke Roberts-san, two of the people who summoned me."

The girl identified as Vetch grinned.

"Pleased to met you. You know, they're still wondering how you managed it, from what I've heard it shouldn't have been possible."

The boys both shrugged with Dan replying.

"So they tell us. As we said when we were questioned afterwards, we just did the best we could with what we could get. There was nothing special involved that I know of so I don't know why it succeeded when it shouldn't have, although I'm very glad it did."

His last comment was accompanied by a smile directed at Awa Maru.

Vetch nodded.

"Yeah, they don't have much of an idea about it back on base. Last i heard the leading theory is that its something to do with you boys yourselves."

She leaned forwards, her tone becoming conspiratorial.

"No promises but from what I've heard you might be invited to be there for the next summoning attempt to see if you can help break the Teesside Curse and get them something bigger than a frigate, or at least someone that wasn't built here."

The boys' reaction to that bit of news was much the same as that of a destroyer who'd been told that she could have unlimited icecream.

"Really?"

"Maybe. As I said, no promises although they're pretty keen to break that curse."

Grinning at the prospect, Dan checked the time.

"Come on, we'd better get a move on or we'll miss our bus. Sorry we couldn't give you a lift but Lewis is the only one who drives and his parents can't spare the diesel."

"It's quite alright. Where are your friends by the way?"

"They're meeting us at the museum since it's easier for them to go straight there. Come on, the bus stop's this way."

The shipgirls followed as the boys led the way, La Malouine taking point with the nervous La Bastiaise behind her and flanked by her two other sisters. Awa Maru was behind the skittish corvette and Vetch brought up the rear.

The walk to the bus stop was uneventful as was the bus ride except for a text from Adam to let them know that he and the others would be late due to their bus being behind schedule and soon enough they were at their destination. The first thing the shipgirls noticed was a rather grand looking old building with large windows. Nasturtium got Dan's attention.

"Is that the museum?"

"Yep. Well, the main part of it. What we're here to see is in the pavilion behind it though."

The pavilion was a far less attractive modern building which was the current home of the hopefully temporarily relocated lifeboat museum. Among the artefacts on display were two framed prints that Awa Maru recognised as having been given by her captain as a thank you gift, which she was expecting since there mention had led to the conversation that had resulted in her coming here. It was still good to see that they'd been kept all these years and put on display in a museum rather than being sold or discarded though.

Numerous other things were on display, mostly other artefacts from ships and models of past lifeboats but the centrepiece was a large, double-ended, clinker-built wooden boat. The name on its bow identified it as the Zetland. It didn't really look like much but all six ship girls knew what it was and regarded it with respect.

Vetch read the plaque that was on the bow.

" "Built in 1802. Has saved five hundred lives. Thine age shall be respected." Is that a quote from something?"

Dan nodded.

"Yep. It's from a poem that was written about her in the nineteenth century."

"Do you know it?"

"Yep. Kind of hard not to the number of times I've heard it read out. Do you want to hear it?"

"Yes please, if you don't mind."

Dan thought for a moment then took a deep breath.

"The Lifeboat, oh, the lifeboat all we have known so long,
A refuge for the feeble, the glory of the strong
Twice thirty years have vanished since first upon the wave,
She housed the drowning mariner and snatched him from his grave.

Let others deem her crazy, nor longer fit to breast
The surge that, madly driven bears down with foaming crest,
But we, who oft have manned her, when death was on the prow,
We cannot bear to leave her, nor will we leave her now.

Our fathers long before us her worth in danger tired,
Their fathers too have steered her amidst the boiling tide.
We love her - tis no wonder - we can but follow them,
Let Heaven - but never word of man - the dear old boat condemn.

The voices of the rescues, their numbers may be read,
The tears of speechless feeling our wives and children shed,
The memories of mercy in mans extremest need,
all for the dear old Lifeboat, uniting seem to plead.

The power unseen that lashes to storm the briny pool,
And when the blast is keenest forbids our hearts to cool,
The hand of earthly kindness that gave our boat its life
That made it, bird like, flutter o'er waves in deadly strife.

And now that kindred spirit, who makes the poor his care
Shall heed our fond remembrance, nor spurn the seamans prayer.
Another craft, and brighter, may stem the raging gale,
Thy plea of sixty winters, old friend, can never fail.

Thine age shall be respected, thy youth perchance restored
And sires and sons together shall press thy heaving board.
No fear that storms be wanting and call it old or new
We'll cheer the boat that's foremost to save a sinking crew."

When he finished there was a small round of applause. Then an unfamiliar voice spoke up.

"Excuse me?"

Standing by the boat's stern having appeared from nowhere was a somewhat stocky woman dressed like a old fashioned fisherman. Brown hair poked out from under her hat as deep grey eyes regarded them steadily.

For a moment no one spoke and then the mystery woman broke the silence.

"Sorry to startle you but it couldn't be avoided. Are you lasses those shipgirls I've heard about?"

Her accent reminded Dan of a recording he'd once heard at a local history exhibition. There was another brief pause then Vetch replied.

"We are, well, six of them anyway. And who might you be?"

She had a good idea as to the answer of course, as did the other shipgirls in the room, but it seemed appropriate to ask anyway.

The woman stood a little straighter and squared her shoulders.

"I'm not sure if you'll believe me but I'm the Zetland lifeboat. Sorry to bother you like this but I was hoping you'd be able to help me out."


A/N: This took forever to type on my tablet. Seriously, I was at it for hours.

 

[darthcourt10]

Dances in Shadow

Ok. For real this time.



------------------------------------------
Dungeons and Dragons and Shipgirls
------------------------------------------
Part 3: Kicking down the door.
------------------------------------------


With a reverberating bang the door to the room came crashing in, the rafters above releasing their age old deposits of dust. As the motes drifted through the invading streams of sunlight, four figures strode into the room. First came a half-orc wielding a battleaxe, his left eye covered in a crude leather patch. Then comes a halfling with a quarterstaff, her eyes expertly scanning the room for danger. Following the halfling is a robed human, her features hidden beneath a dark crimson hood. Lastly a dwarf women enters the room, her new wooden leg clacking against the stone floor with every step.

No sooner have they entered the room when a group of small reptilian beings come rushing around a corner, their sharp teeth and beady eyes reflecting the light from outside.

"Alright, if I can get everyone to roll initiative please."

With a flick of the Sendai cruiser's wrist, orange and white dice bounce across the table before coming to a rest. Leaning forward she reads out the results.

"16"

Junyou is next, her newly purchased purple-steel swirled dice clattering on the whiteboard.

"8"

Tenryuu follows next, royal purple dice revealing a 20.

Finally it comes to Nagato who reaches into her new dice bag. She had been surprised when Hedwig had shown up with the scarlet and gold bag with its white satin inlay. But when she had realized what her adopted son had made it out of, she had instantly come to treasure it. Rolling her own dice she chimes in.

"19"

"OK then, Tenryuu your up first"

"Yeah gimme just a minute."

With a twinkle in here eye and smirk upon her lips Tenryuu places a small wooden box down on the table. Her barbarian chuckles as he struts over to the box and gets ready to open it.
Straightening her back the light cruiser clears her throat and begins.
"Ladies and gentlemen may I have your attention? Today I present to you an wondrous item of extreme power, the likes of which mankind has never seen!"

To her side, Naka rolls her eyes and mouths the word 'Chuni' at the others.

Spreading her arms wide she continues. "Forged by a mad wizard in a castle hidden deep in the Scottish highlands! Flown across continents by his faithful familiar, to be delivered to the brave hero just in the nick of time! The One, the Only, the LEGENDARY..."

Down on the table the barbarian lifts a small battleaxe out of the chest and holds it high above his head. Its polished oak handle carved with an imprint of a serpentine dragon, its steel head etched with the image of an icosahedron engulfed in flames.

"~Dess Dess Dessu~"

"THE GYGAXE."

------Later------

"With a pained groan the last of the bandits slumps to the floor, the last of his life's blood pooling beneath him. OK guys lets take a break for a few, I need to tally up your experience and check my notes on the next area."

As the gathered ship-girls begin putting away their sheets and pulling out their snacks Nagato shoots an annoyed look at Tenryuu.

"I still can't believe you asked my son to make you a weapon."

Chuckling Tenryuu motions to her crewman to bring her the Gygaxe.

"What can I say? Kiddo does great work, I mean look at this"

Taking the miniature battleaxe into her hand the others watch in amazment as it starts to grow, The miniature weapon quickly becoming life size.

"I mean come on, how cool is that? My crewman can use it for the game and when were done I can mount it on the wall."

Running the blade across her hand she continues.

"Besides it's just for show, I own butter-knifes sharper than this thing."

Setting her hand down on her new dice bag Nagato smiles.

"Your right, he did do a great job with that. It's also amazing what he can do with scraps of his and Hoppou's old torn up clothes."

Nodding her head Naka gave the dice bag an appraising look.

"Chibi has talent, no doubt about it. I wonder if I can get him to make me a new bag?"

------Later------

"Harriet casts Summon monster I."

The wizard grins. This is the moment he has been eagerly waiting for. When the decision was made to have crewmen serve as their ship's miniatures an unspoken agreement had been made. Their performance would be a competition...crew vs crew, ship vs ship. The crew of the Naka and Junyou had started out strong, but the felt costumes they wore didn't quite measure up to the robes Rose had made. Tenryuu's crew had made a pitiful first showing with their tinfoil equipment, but the Gygaxe had nearly leveled the playing field. But that was OK, for the crew of the Nagato had an ace up their sleeve, and now it was time to reveal it. Taking a deep breath the wizard stepped forwards and began reciting the incantation their communications officer had written.

"Desu Des Desu."

"Des Desu Desu Des Des."

"Des Des Desu Su."

On the last syllable he pulls the pin on the flash-bang hidden in his sleeve. Closing his eyes he tosses it forward, the first half of the act complete.

Blinking away the spots in her vision, Nagato was preparing to read her crewmen the riot act when her eyes landed on something that hadn't been there a moment ago. There upon the table was her hamster Boo, dressed in a white and red crochet dog costume.


"...."



"KAWAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII'

-----------

Looking out of his newly shattered window Admiral Goto takes a sip of his coffee before pulling out his cellphone. Hitting speed dial he brings the phone up and waits.

"Hello Oodoyo."

"You had plans with Nagato tonight as I recall?"

"Yes I did hear that as a matter of fact."

"I see."

"No, I don't need to hear the details right this instant."

"Very well, when Nagato regains consciousness have her assign the guilty parties to clean up duty."
"Thank you."

"Oh and Ooyodo?"

"Add it to the list."


To be continued?

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

The very last echoes faded as did the last lights from the flares and fireworks as everyone's attention turned to the massive woman in the middle of the harbour. Around her was a form of rigging not unlike those seen for Abyssal Installations, except it looked normal and none of it was monstrous. As for the woman, massive was pretty much the first thing that came to mind as she stood nearly fifteen feet high. Helping that idea was that what could be seen of her limbs showed that they were covered in toned muscle, like those of a sailor who worked all his life on ship pulling ropes, handling sails and the wheel, and pulling in the catch of the day.

After that, most people who could see her from shore and those shipgirls nearby noticed other things. For example, she was obviously part First Nation, with her black hair tied back into a loose ponytail and deeply tanned skin. Sea green eyes scanned her surroundings while eyebrows furrowed above them and full lips turned downwards into a frown. Around her neck hung a necklace with an arrowhead on it while a bracelet with an anchor was on one wrist. Her clothing meanwhile consisted of a black turtleneck like those used by sailors, including the RCN, which did not hide her large bust. Over that was an open overcoat like those used by the British Army back in the 1700s-1800s with the sleeves of both it and her sweater rolled up halfway over her upper arm.

Covering her thighs were an oil stained denim skirt that stopped at her mid-thigh, though there were signs that she wore shorts under it. Finally though, she wore leather boots that stopped about mid-shin. She also had on a belt from which various pockets, tools, and the like hung from.

Suddenly she yawned and caused some shipgirls to jump a bit as she stretched out her arms. "Ugh. What the hell just happened, eh?" Scratching under her eye, she grimaced a bit. "And I was having such a good sleep."

Out of nowhere a small voice spoke up. "It would seem that I was right and they were attempting to wake you up, Halifax." When the Installation looked down, there was an amused Acadia looking up at her. Even her arms were crossed over her chest. "I must say, it is about time you woke up."

Blinking, Halifax frowned and pointed at herself. "Wait, all that to wake me up?"

Tone dry, Acadia began to tap one foot against the water. "Of course, and considering how much you seemed to want to stay asleep it was likely right." Watching as Halifax winced and began to rub her shapely behind, she raised an eyebrow, though there was a knowing twinkle in her eye. "Is something wrong?"

Just giving her a look, the Installation snorted before turning and glaring in the direction of City Hall. "Nothing, only that I am going to have to go and give a cove a swift kick in their ass. Returning the favor, you might say." Another yawn broke free as she continued to look around before she brought her arms above her head and stretched. Various pops could be heard before Halifax sighed. "That was a good sleep though."

Expression flat, Acadia spoke up in an tone even drier. "Indeed, that much was obvious with how hard it was to get you out of bed."

Raising an eyebrow, Halifax wagged a finger at her. "Quiet you. Also, since when have you become so cheeky?"

Acadia grinned back at her. "Must come from my old age, I suppose. Old timers are usually like that."

Simply snorting, Halifax leaned down. "Old timers? Compared to me, you're but a babe, Acadia. And don't think that I won't remind you of that, favorite of mine or not." Before Acadia could react though, the Installation easily scooped her up which made the other shipgirls and those tensing. However, then she set the small shipgirl on her shoulder and frowned as a grumble came from her stomach. "You know what would be good right now? A nice good meal."

Pointing towards the Halifax side of the bay, Acadia grinned. "Well a good thing that I suspected that this was going to happen. By the time we get there I do believe that there will be plenty of food for you. Among other things."
Now nodding as she strode towards the shore, as if the water was solid concrete beneath her, Halifax gave a hum. "Hopefully they got some donairs, poutine, and maybe lobster. I could kill for any of those right now and a good beer. Well, as long as its not American piss water, anyways."

Lightly laughing, the small shipgirl shook her head from where she sat on the Installation's powerful shoulder. "That won't be much trouble, Halifax. And welcome to the physical."

Smiling, Halifax gave a laugh of her own that caused the waters to shake, one composed of the voices of hundreds of people. "And it is good to be here I suppose." One hand punched into the palm of the other. "Can't wait to kick some Abyssal ass. Speaking of... you know what to do boys."

Along the runways on her rigging, sparkles gathered before aircraft began launching. Squadrons of Hawker Hurricanes, Consolidated Cansos, and Supermarine Stranraers launched and were soon joined by similarly large numbers of Lockheed Hudsons and B-24s. All of them heading for the harbour mouth. From where Acadia was, she could also see small fairies on broomsticks and flying carpets also shoot into the air. When she glanced at Halifax, she got a wink and a finger held to the Installation's lips.

Though she did have to do a double take at the gryphons, hippogryffs, and the single dragon as fairies with riders that also took off.

Meanwhile, Halifax simply continued to walk towards the shoreline. Upon reaching the area close to the Ferry Terminal, made a motion with one hand and the water she was on rose up until it was high enough that she could step onto the boardwalk in front of a large crowd of astonished people. Some of whom were already filming on their phones or taking pictures. Nearby, a CBC reporter motioned for her cameraman to follow her through the crowd while at the same time, a CTV crew also pulled into the nearby parking lot. Rather amused, Halifax looked around before a small voice spoke up. "Um, Miss?"

Looking down at the little girl staring at her in awe, the giant woman crouched down until she was close to the same level. "Yes, Little One? You have a question?"

A frown at being called little, the girl soon shook it off. "I'm Emily, who are you though?"

Only chuckling, Halifax smiled down at her. "Emily is a lovely name. As to who am I? Why, I am the one whose streets you stand on. I'm Halifax, Nova Scotia. Warden of the North!"

Eyes wide, the girl boggled at her. "You're Halifax? Really?" At the nod, she shook her head as people began to excitedly whisper and talk, some of them downloading what they had on their phones to the internet. "Wow, you're big!"

That got a loud, booming laugh from Halifax. "I suppose so! But I grew as big as I am through love and care!" Then the Installation gave a wink. "Also drinking plenty of milk and having a lot of vegetables and fruits." While the girl nodded, she stood up to her full height and grinned as a cart was being pushed through the crowd. "And this must be what you had ready for me, Acadia. Well, well, and we got little Sackville here too!"

From her position on Halifax's shoulders, said shipgirl gave a smile at the Corvette pushing the cart. Her fellow Museum ship gave a grin back. "Good to see you awake, Halifax. Both Acadia and I were wondering if you were ever going to wake up."

Snorting, Halifax gave her a look. "As if I could sleep through a party like that!" Pearly white teeth were revealed as she grinned. "The best sort of party! And it is not over yet!" Taking a keg of beer, she tore off the top before taking a large gulp of it. "Ah, that hits the spot! A nice Keiths brewed right here. Though I could go for a Moosehead as well, maybe Olands or Propeller. Heck, Sailor Jerry's rum would be a fine thing as well."

With an shared look between them, Acadia and Sackville smiled as Halifax took one of the smaller donairs and gave it to Emily. Then she took one of the larger ones and practically inhaled it. Sweet sauce mixed with spiced beef in her mouth and Halifax gave a groan at the taste. Chuckling, Acadia pat the much larger woman on the head. "Hopefully that hits the spot."

Just grabbing another large one, the Installation grinned. "Like you would not believe, Acadia." Finding a large tray of poutine, she stuck it on part of her rigging while tossing back another donair before taking a massive fork of fries, gravy, and cheese curds. Once she swallowed that, along with another gulp of beer, she gave a smile. "Hits the spot." Partway through though, Halifax spotted Fort George heading their away. "Georgie!"

Coughing as she came to a stop, Citadel Hill paused. "Actually, my name is Fort George, or Citadel Hill, Halifax and you know-"

However, before she could get much further, Halifax cooed and pulled her into a tight embrace. Which, due to their heights meant that Citadel Hill found herself unable to breath. "Aw, Georgie, you know me." Looking at Emily who was on the shoulder opposite of Acadia, and several other children on her rigging, Halifax shook her head. "She's just adorable, trying to act all grown up."

While Fort George muttered and tried to break free, Emily nodded after swallowing some ice cream. "Uh-huh."

Still grinning, Halifax turned to her harbour and held the other arm open. "And don't think that I forgot about you, Charlotte, McNab's! Come on over here!" From across the harbour there was the sound of screaming and soon everyone could see the two smaller Installations flying through the air as if yanked along on invisible ropes. But then Halifax snatched them out of the air with one beefy arm and they suffered the same fate as their sister, Citadel Hill. Mainly being smothered in Halifax's massive... fuel depots. "You scamps! Trying to hide from me!"

Finally, the news crews got close and the CBC reporter held up her microphone. Nearby, Halifax could also see magical news crews also setting up with one using their own microphone nearby as they were going to let the non-magicals speak and get answers. "Excuse me? Elizabeth Chiu, CBC... You mentioned that you're Halifax? As in the city?"

Lips curled, the Installation nodded. "That is correct, Miss Chiu. I think that I'm an Installation Class shipgirl or some such." Shrugging, and getting giggles from both Emily and Acadia, Halifax chuckled. "I've heard that this is somewhat big."

Wide eyed, the reporter and host for CBC only nodded. "I-I see, well, this is rather big news. Not just for Nova Scotia, but Canada and the world. Would you mind if we ask some questions?"

Twinkle in her eye, Halifax just nodded some. "I don't mind answering a few questions, no. But not too many as something needs to be done. And it is something that I am rather good at." At the confusion, and question of what she meant, she grinned. "Why what else? Throw a party!"

Cheers rose up at that and soon, all of Halifax was thrown into celebration.

Outside the harbor, a bruised and battered Baden gave a frown as she watched the Abyssals finally break off and begin to flee. "Now that's odd, wonder why they're running."

Beside her, Revenge grunted before spitting out a tooth. Then wiping her mouth, she shrugged. "Not a clue." Feeling a tap, the Battleship turned to Wisky who was staring towards Halifax. "Something wrong?"

Rapidly blinking, Wisconsin coughed. "There's aircraft coming from there. A number of bombers included..." Her eyes then widened a touch. "A lot of aircraft."

Moments later, there was a loud roar as aircraft flew above the shipgirls and they could only watch with dropped jaws as they let loose with guns, bombs, and torpedoes on the fleeing Abyssals. While Quebec cheered in French, Bonaventure let out a cackle. "THOSE BASTARDS DID IT! THEY FUCKING DID IT! FUCK YES!"

Sharing a look, and getting a order, the fleet steamed back towards Halifax at their top speeds. Upon arriving them, they were soon swept up in the celebration. And in Lunenburg, a young woman sat on a wharf with her legs kicking out. Dressed in a sailor's clothes with overalls, she brushed some brown hair out of her eyes and looked towards Halifax. Pulling out a pipe, she lit it before smiling as he took a puff. "Well done, Halifax. About time you got your lazybones going..." A chuckle then escaped her as she shook her head and watched as the massive plume, like something from a volcanic eruption except composed of magic and spiritual energy, shot high into the atmosphere with spiritual lightning illuminating it as it began to spread outwards. "Now to see if good, old Liverpool is awake..."

The news soon spread across Canada and was met with celebration. After all the first summoned Installation besides Scapa Flow and it was theirs! The Warden of the North! And from there, the news spread worldwide on both the mundane and magical side of things. News that was met with joy on some ends, and worry on others. In Los Vegas, Mary stared at the news now being reported before turning north and giving a salute with her glass of water even as other people in the room stared in disbelief at what was on the television screen. Meanwhile, in Washington, the President smiled and leaned back in his chair. Sure, perhaps the United States was not the first. But he would much rather it be a close friend like Canada then someone else.

In England, Fudge was holding his face in his hands and muttering about how he was going to spin this. Elsewhere in the world, the news was met with some panic with the Magical Diet pulling an emergency session to discuss it. In Australia. their Ministry of Magic was in an uproar while in Africa, it was met with curiosity. The Russian government, on both sides, launched preliminary looks into seeing if it could be replicated there.

Meanwhile, various Abyssals were looking on with worry. When Reivana turned to Porta, she was relieved to see that her Princess had a confidant look on her face. However, OLD on the other hand could see that her ruler was both deeply concerned, and somewhat relieved. Perhaps by the fact that due to seeking peace now, and getting a ceasefire, she had beaten the flood. Just the same though, this changed many, many things and calculations.

For the Timor Sea Abyssals, they were all pointing at the screens set up even as RAN personnel celebrated. Where she sat, Harbour Demon gave a small nod and set down her drink. While she had been unsure about her Princess joining the human forces at first, she had come to accept it over the years. And what was now crossing the screen proved that it was the right decision.

Granted, she still wanted to meet her Princess' "Little Brother", but that was something else.

Scapa Flow only nodded and patted the nervous Wandering on the head before turning and opening a bottle of Scotch. After all, this called for a celebration.

 

[darthcourt10]

Savato93

Finally. Took me forever to get this to the point I'm satisfied.

XXXXXXXXXX

The destroyer watched the plume of water rise into the darkening sky, carrying with it untold numbers of fish. The Abyssal couldn't help but let out a squeak of delight at bagging her dinner.

Out here, in the middle of nowhere, life was pretty scarce—in terms of humans, shipgirls, and other Abyssals at least. The sea life, however, was quite plentiful. With little to no competition, the destroyer was free to hunt the schools of fish at her pleasure, eat her fill. No more fighting over scraps with the other destroyers, having to give up her meal to the flagship, or simply not finding any food at all.

Out here, she was free. And she liked that.

The water where she'd dropped her depth charge was beginning to settle again. Even as the remaining droplets fell from the sky, something began to rise from the deep—dozens of mackerel, killed instantly by the shockwave. More than enough for her to eat until she was full. A bit jellified, sure, but it was going the same place regardless.

As she moved forward to begin eating, the destroyer felt something approaching on her systems. An Abyssal, right at the edge of her detectible range. She didn't seem to be giving off an IFF to hint towards her identity, but she was big, and moving slowly. Cautious, the destroyer cut off her own IFF. She scanned the seas around her, waiting for whoever was creeping through her general area to come over the horizon… ready to flee if necessary.

Finally, after a couple minutes, she saw the new Abyssal—and recoiled.

It looked like a Re-class at a glance… but everything about her was wrong.

Her hull was a mess, covered bow to stern in discolored steel patches of all shapes and sizes, more than enough to consider her armor belt compromised. One of her main turrets was visibly disabled, the casemate crumpled and the barrels warped. Much of her secondary and anti-air defenses were similarly trashed, only a handful of guns looking even remotely operable. As her bow struck a wave and dipped down, the destroyer could even glimpse what used to be the Re-class's flight deck elevator—now just a big, gaping hole in her aft deck.

This Re-class shouldn't have been capable of sailing, let alone combat… and yet, her broken form radiated pure power.

And she was coming towards her.

In an instant, the destroyer went silent. She cut her engines, letting herself come to a stop in the water. Shut off her radio, her sonar, everything. Anything she could possibly do so as not to draw attention to herself, she did so.

The destroyer was motionless as the Re-class drew nearer to her… and stopped. The Re-class looked down at the water—to the lifeless fish floating and bobbing on the surface. Slowly, she leaned down and scooped one out of the water. Staring at it in her hands quietly, the Re-class's gaze suddenly shifted towards her, her eyes looking… almost inquisitive.

Her parka was all but gone, ripped to tatters and covered in scorch marks. Through the many, many holes in the fabric… she could see the jagged lines, the white blotches, the angry red scars that seemed to cover every inch of her body. Her hands were mismatched, both to each other and to the Re-class herself—one arm burnt and blackened, the other stripped down to muscle and bone. Her tail was somehow in even worse shape: scraps of Abyssal metal bolted into the flesh at random spots, all down the length of the trunk, and the lower jaw of the snake-head had been torn away at some point in the past, leaving behind only bits of bone and wire in its place. Her overall movements were slow and jerky, almost like every wrong motion caused her pain.

This Re-class had been through hell.

After several agonizingly-long seconds, the Re-class finally looked away, back to the fish in her hands. In a sudden rush of motion, she opened her mouth wide and swallowed the fish whole. Scanning her surroundings, the Re-class drifted to the next fish, picking it up and eating it in a similar fashion. And then to the next fish. Like a machine, she shifted back and forth, gobbling up the destroyer's would-be meal. She wanted to say something, to complain to the Re-class that was stealing her food, but to agitate a Re-class was suicide. As it stood, she had no clue whether the Re-class would just kill her either way. And running away would do her no good… the Re-class outranged her immensely. The only option she had was to sit aside, make herself as small and feeble as possible, and pray the greater Abyssal didn't consider her worth the effort.

For several minutes the destroyer sat there, watching the Re-class feed. She could hold out for a night, she figured. Couldn't be too hard to find more the next day… if she made it that long. Eventually, the fish were depleted. The Re-class scanned the area around her with a hand on her stomach, seeming disappointed. Off to the side, the destroyer silently prayed for her to move on, to ignore the helpless creature… but her heart sank as the Re-class slowly turned towards her. She wanted to run, she should have—but she just sat there, paralyzed by fear, while her imminent killer sailed up next to her.

The terrified destroyer closed her eyes as the Re-class reached out, waiting for the inevitable…

And felt a light brush of fingertips against her hide.

Terror became confusion as she felt the Re-class's hand gently, almost delicately, rubbing her flank. "Thank… you…" the Re-class whispered weakly.

The baffled destroyer opened her eyes, looking to the Re-class. Up this close, she could clearly see her expression. There was no manic energy in her eyes, no restrained bloodlust—all the destroyer saw in the Re-class's eyes was weariness. "You… you won't hurt me…?" the destroyer asked quietly.

The Re-class flinched away from the destroyer, looking hurt by the accusation. "Doggy… shared food. Doggy is… good girl," she said softly. "Can't be mean… to good girls."

It was like a massive weight had been lifted from the destroyer's keel. By sheer luck, this Re-class was friendly. She wasn't going to die! "Th-thank you," she said, still a little shaken by the other Abyssal's proximity.

The Re-class spoke again. "Where are… sisters?" she asked, looking the destroyer in the eye.

The destroyer paused, caught off guard by the sudden question. "Uh… N-no… no sisters. Not anymore. Ran away from fleet."

The Re-class's expression grew somber. "Doggy is… alone?"

"Yeah." The destroyer waved a flipper. "But not all bad. No more being screamed at by flagship, don't fight sisters for food, don't go hungry anymore. Can run away from danger."

The Re-class was silent for a few seconds, her eyebrows narrowing. "…that's… not right," she eventually said. "Flagship should… be good… to fleet."

"Why do you say that?" The destroyer rotated to face the Re-class fully. "Didn't think you would care. You don't have fleet, either, right?"

At this, the Re-class seemed to shrink in on herself. She stared at the water beneath her feet, her eyes now full of anguish and grief. "Had… more, than fleet…" she said. "Had family. So many… nice sisters. Wonderful… mother. Everyone… loved everyone. All… so happy… together."

For a moment, the destroyer felt a touch of envy for the Re-class. She lucked out, was made by a great fleet that all got along, didn't fight each other over food. Which begged the question… "Why aren't you with them? Did something happen?"

At first, there was no response. Then the Re-class began to tremble, tears welling up in her eyes. "Home… destroyed. Family… missing."

And like that, the destroyer's envy turned to sympathy. "…Oh."

"Have to… find them. Find family. Need to… be with them again." The Re-class hugged herself weakly as bloody tears streamed down her face. "Being alone… it hurts."

The destroyer felt an ache in her boilers, seeing the Re-class cry; she was so strong, so feared… but she was miserable, and there was nothing she could do about it. She found herself unconsciously sliding forward, nudging the Re-class gently, letting her lay against her flank. "I… I'm sorry…" the destroyer said, unsure what to do. "Is… is there any way I can help you?"

She expected her to say no; after all, just what could a destroyer offer to a battleship like her? Instead, the Re-class looked to her, expression pained and pleading. "Please… stay with… me? Please…?"

Confused by the response, the destroyer took a few seconds to answer. "Stay? What do you mean?"

"Just… want company…" The Re-class whimpered, nuzzling up against the destroyer. "Don't want to… be alone… anymore… don't want… to hurt anymore…"

…the Re-class just wanted a friend?

It was… oddly touching. And a little unappetizing. She had a good thing going out here. She wasn't abused by her fleet, she didn't have to give up her food to anybody, and she was free to spend her days doing whatever she pleased. She'd probably be throwing all that away if she followed this Re-class, chasing after a fleet that might very well be all dead.

But, still… she was just a destroyer. Speed was her only real strength. If she came across something bad, and she couldn't outrun it, she was as good as sunk. And this… this was a Re-class. An Abyssal feared by other Abyssals. Even if she was too busted-up to really fight, the fear she inspired might just be enough to shield the destroyer from threats. And above all that, she seemed so nice. She hadn't threatened her or said anything mean to her at all.

Maybe… maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. If sharing food and being a cuddle-buddy was the price she had to pay to secure her future with a good flagship…

Well… it did get a little lonely out here, sometimes.

XXXXXXXXXX

Try as she might, Regalia just couldn't meet the eyes of the Princess towering over her.

Not without tipping over, anyways.

She'd done her best to make herself scarce when the new Abyssals arrived. Tried to blend into the crowd of her aunts and cousins, avoid their sight in the busyness of Uncle Harry's birthday party. But it was for naught—the moment she was done reconnecting with all her long-lost kin, the new Princess made a beeline for her. In hindsight, Regalia realized, hiding was useless. She was a harbor, an Installation; she could probably sniff out a botched job from miles away.

And now that she had Regalia face-to-face… she simply stood there, staring at her. Oddly, there was no rage or disgust in her expression… simply shock. The Re-class could only stand there nervously under her great aunt's stunned gaze, waiting for her to make her judgement.

Finally, something happened. With a barely-audible sigh, one of the Princess's massive claws reached behind her back and produced a small silver object. Unscrewing the cap with surprising dexterity, the Princess brought the flask to her lips and took a quick gulp of whatever was inside, before stowing it away once more. "So… you are Regalia?" The Princess finally asked.

"Y-yes…" Regalia couldn't help but tilt her head inquisitively. "Um… what did you just drink?"

"Let's just say it is… something to… soothe my nerves… and leave it at that."

The Re-class shrunk back a bit. It didn't take a genius to figure out why the Princess would need such a thing. "I know… it's bad. Really bad."

The Princess closed her eyes and took a deep breath before nodding. "Yes… it is." She carefully crouched down until she was level with Regalia. "But it is not… your fault, Regalia. Nor your mother's. The blame lies… with those who… made you. Who ignored every… sign, that you were… not right." She opted not to mention how her construction personnel were demanding the heads of the idiots responsible for this colossal fuckup. "I spoke with your mother. She told me… that you are a kind girl. That you didn't deserve… this misfortune. And I agree with her."

Regalia looked at her great aunt, her soft and concerned expression. "So you're… not bugged by my keel?"

"No, I am. Quite a bit, actually… hence the flask." Wanko shook her head. "But more importantly… I am relieved. Relieved that Tanith… has taken such… good care of you. Do you realize just… how fragile you are?"

Regalia nodded glumly. "I've been made well aware." She looked back up to Wanko. "So, if you're an Installation… does that mean you could help Grandma rebuild me?"

The Princess's response to that was just a chuckle. "You don't… have to ask, Regalia. You are family." Wanko leaned forward, gently brushing Regalia's cheek with a claw. "I will do everything… in my power, to… help you heal. You deserve no less."

Regalia reached up and touched the claw with her own hand. It was hard and rough, as to be expected… but at the same time, there was a comforting warmth to its touch. "Thanks… Aunt Wanko…" she said softly.

It was at this moment that a new voice made itself known behind Wanko. "So, is this the new meat? She seems bit tender, if you ask me. But then, veal is a thing, so…"

Regalia leaned to the side, trying to look past the Princess. "Uh, who said that?"

With a sigh, Wanko reached back and pulled… an unfamiliar Re-class out into the open, by the hem of her parka. "This is my… bodyguard, Revina. Regina's sister. Please forgive her… tactlessness."

The Re-class held up her hands with a crooked grin, rotating slowly in her Princess's grasp. "Hey, it's alright, Boss. I was just trying to break the ice with the new girl on the block—"

And then Revina turned around fully, and her eyes met Regalia.

Almost immediately, Revina bristled, her entire body tensing up. Her face was contorted into a grimace of horror and disgust, looking at the deformed Re-class in front of her—

"Revina." Wanko's tone was harsh and imposing.

The Re-class in her claws held her tension for a moment longer, before deflating like a balloon. The Princess gave her surprised niece an apologetic look. "Unfortunately… we were not told… the specifics of… your defect. We did not expect it… to be this severe."

"…sorry about that," Revina grumbled. "It's just… really shocking. Like looking in one of those fucked-up mirrors. Aunt Hoppou warned us it was bad, but… damn, girl."

"I-it's okay. I understand." Regalia nervously waved a hand. "You're far from the first Abyssal to freak out a bit at seeing me up close."

Wanko nodded. "I was told that… Regina reacted in a... similar manner."

"Yeah, but after Uncle Harry got her to calm down, she was really nice." Regalia looked to Revina. "Though she did say her sister was a little… eccentric."

"She was not wrong…" Wanko said with a sigh as she released Revina. She tapped her daughter on the scalp with a talon. "Please behave yourself… around your new cousins… okay, Revina?"

Taking a deep breath, Revina nodded. "Right. Take it easy on the new blood. Got it." She stepped forward to Regalia. "Regalia, right?" She held out a hand. "Sorry again, for spooking you. No hard feelings?"

Smiling in relief, Regalia accepted the hand. "Yeah, we're good. I just hope my condition doesn't put you off from here on out."

Stepping beside her, Revina patted her lightly on the back. "Yeah, you're a bit crooked… okay, a LOT crooked. But that's fine. With my mom and Hoppou on the case, I'm sure you'll be set straight soon enough. Now… why don't you tell me a bit about yourself?" She leaned in closer. "In return, I'll share a secret with you… something really embarrassing for Sunny…"

Regalia's eyes widened. "Sunny? What could possibly embarrass a lady like her?"

Wanko started massaging her forehead as the pair continued to converse. "I don't know if… I should be relieved… or distressed… that they're getting along already."

 

[darthcourt10]

Maes

A little conversation tidbit that just came to mind and might happen between Norihara and Hoppou shortly before or after Regalia's rebuild~
*-*-*

"Ah... Hoppou? I've been meaning to ask..."

"Hm?"

"Well... first, you have my utmost gratitude for everything you have taught me regarding Abyssal construction and physiology. Still, I stumbled on something that just doesn't seem to make sense..."

"Hoppou will be happy to answer Norihara's question."

"Well... we've already established that, like shipgirls, every part of a humanoid Abyssal maps to a function or part of a ship's hull, or an installation part in your case... damage one, it hurts the other, and vice-versa. Also, Abyssals are normally... hatched, in a way, out of a big egg assembled by the Abyssal mother, unless humans are involved for... ahem... a more traditional approach. The whole 'teeth and claws and fangs and horns' and so on is practically just cosmetic differences..."

"Norihara is... correct, although a bit oversimplified? What does Norihara want to ask about?"

"Well... discounting those built through actual pregnancies... why do you guys have bellybuttons? They don't actually map to anything either!"

Hoppou raises a hand, opening her mouth, then closes it without a sound after a few frozen moments. Her hands drops to rub her chin, before shooting up again, still her mouth opening but speechless, before dropping a second time. She then raises her dress for a few moments, staring at her belly and blinking, before smoothing the fabric back down.

"Huh. Why do Abyssals have bellybuttons? Hoppou... Hoppou is sorry. Hoppou has no idea.Hoppou is more than a little disturbed by that and will have to investigate."

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K

The cruiser stood upon the shores, watching the waves go in and out as everyone else finally caught up. Eagerly, DesDiv6 transitioned from the water to the sand, carrying the baskets and thermoses filled with tea, coffee, and other assorted drinks. Behind the zippy little destroyers then followed Tenryuu and the other cruisers who had decided to journey out to the island for this little expedition.

"Come on, let's go!"

Eagerly the girls grab the Heavy Cruiser's hands and attempt to pull her along, but instead she shakes her head.

"Sorry kids. But I got something to check on first. I'll catch up with you guys in a bit."

"But the picnic-"

"Won't even have started before I get back." Quietly she shakes her head and offers a smile she doesn't quite feel. "I won't be that long."

"Okay, but you better not disappear on us, you hear!"

As the destroyers quickly take off again after the light cruisers heading further inland, the Kanmusu wavers for a moment.

Maybe she's wrong. Maybe she's nuts. Maybe she should just ignoring this niggling suspicion of a mad idea, and follow after the group. Spend a day having a nice picnic.

For a moment, she almost does follow after them. Shifting forward slightly before aborting her step.

Steeling herself, Heavy Cruiser Unzen turns on her heel and begins marching along the shore instead. Following the sandy, craggy coast, she does not search for what is there, but what might not be.

Half an hour later, she finds it.

From the outside, it looks like a cove. A long rectangular channel when the sand becomes rock, eroded away into a large, respectably deep gash into the side of the island. It is easily almost 250 meters in length and 30 odd meters wide.

A graving dock, long since corroded to the point of looking almost more natural than man or magically made. The once mighty doors of the watertight locks have rusted to the point that they have finally caved in, the concrete walls and wharfs surrounding the channels are cracked and shattered from either battle or decades of erosion working against the hastily set wartime concrete, and mother nature has reclaimed wherever her plant life can put down roots.

The only things that even still give the place away as a graving dock, are the rest of the rusting, crumbling facilities surrounding it. Work sheds and warehouses filled with tools and materials half collapsed in on themselves or partly burned down. The mountainous scrap heap that was once a crane, now crumpled over from fire damage and twisted into a shattered ruin. Rusting piles of steel and plate piled high on the dockside, waiting use in a ship that would never be finished.

If it was ever started at all.

Because starring, deep into the watery depths of the flooded and partially collapsed graving dock, Unzen senses nothing. For all it's terrible history, the PoWs, the slave labor, the dark magic, the battle, this is where Unzen knows she was born.

And yet between all the material scattered around the area and the destruction wreaked, it actually looks less like somewhere that an almost completed Heavy Cruiser was salvaged from as a war prize, and more like the builders had yet to even begin.

Reaching into her pocket, the 1941 Type A Heavy Cruiser then pulls out her phone. Pulling up her text chat from one fellow shipgirl in particular, Unzen stares at the last message recieved from her pen-pal almost a week ago.

It had always been a little odd explaining the history and connection that tied the two together. What was it that seemed to bring about so many strange in-jokes and references between a Japanese CA built too late in the war to see any action, and an American Fast Battleship that had almost never left the Atlantic for the entirety of it's steel hull career. And somehow the two had hit it off like old friends, almost the instant they first met each other.

Everyone had eventually figured out that they were both practitioners of magic. It was something of an open secret even, that Frankland had once had strong ties to MACUSA as a steel hull. But even more than the battleship however, Unzen had always been tight-lipped and secretive about her post-war service as an American war prize. Few of her comrades realised that rather than ending the war in the scrapyards, for just over thirty years, she too had served as a mobile floating base for MACUSA intelligence and black operations, in her case based in the Far East through the early Cold War.

She wasn't she what was still classified and what no longer was. So as long as her friends who all sank in the war didn't ask, she was intent not to tell.

A part of her though, had always felt like something was off. Like she wasn't where she should have been.

Sure, Unzen had been born for climatic decisive battle on the high seas. But instead, all she had known for practically the entirety of her life as a steel-hull, was decades of watching and learning the ways of brushfire conflicts, proxy-wars, espionage foreign, counter-intelligence, and the arts of keeping secrets. The first time she ever actually fired her guns at a hostile target in anger, was upon her return as a shipgirl.

It was this strange feeling, like something wasn't right, that had drawn Unzen into her own version of Frankland's strange quest, after learning of it from her American counter-part. One that had supposedly taken the battleship "off the grid" for a bit. It had been almost two weeks now, and the strange casualness surrounding the battleship's sudden leave and then lack of contact, was what, more than anything else, had originally convinced the Heavy Cruiser that her fellow ex-Magical Investigation Bureau asset was onto something.

Something was wrong with the world. Strange things and elements of not only their histories, but also the world around them, that even with the excuses of magical involvement, didn't always add up.

Her own search, had eventually brought her here. To this forgotten graving yard which she had put off visiting for so long out of guilt toward the slave labor that had been used to build her. Except now that she was here, she felt.... Nothing.

There was no connection to this place. No sense that this was her place of birth or home. There was not even a hint of a feeling, that anyone at all had ever been constructed in the place.

With a sigh, the Heavy Cruiser looks at her last message from Frankland, dated to almost a week and a half ago.

'I have to know.'

With a quiet amount of resignation and a trembling hand, Unzen lets go of her phone, watching as it lands in the water with a splash, sinking into the murky depths of the flooded grazing dock until it is lost from view.

"None of this is real, is it?"

"I suppose so," answers a gentle voice from behind her, causing the Heavy Cruiser to startle slightly. "But then, define real?"

Spinning around, Unzen finds the source of the voice to be someone who definitely wasn't there thirty seconds ago. Though the hood with it's face-concealing enchantment is down, most would still be made hesitant, suspicious, or even unsettled by the robed 20-something who seemingly appeared out of thin air, and somehow failed to register on both her radar and to the magical sensory equipment leftover from her MACUSA service.

After her initial shock however, the Heavy Cruiser is curious, even as she remains confused. There is a certain kind of body language one tends to notice among MIB agents and field operatives after a while, nuances that arise from being garbed in equipment and apparel that often either obscure their features, or disguise them as someone else's. And while there is still a good 40 years that separate her time as a floating base and the now, Unzen has more than enough memories and skills picked up via osmosis from that time, to get a read on the man before her.

A young agent, likely the messenger for someone else, does not seem to fear being harmed, but at the same time does not seem to bear her any immediate ill-will or intentions. His hands are empty, held down and slightly away from himself. Palms outward to show they are unarmed, and to limit his ability to surreptitiously or quickly draw anything from his sleeves or belt. This guy wants to talk. To fill her in on something. To answer the worrisome question she has been dreading having answered ever since Frankland disappeared a week and a half ago.

Finally, Unzen allows herself to relax somewhat, looking at the modern successor to a hidden part of her life with suspicious uncertainty.

"So... If this isn't.... real, then what is it." The Heavy Cruiser gestures broadly at the world around them, and then back to herself for emphasis. "Is this just some sort of huge illusion? Or is this all happening in my head?"

The agent placatingly holds up his hands. "I believe the short answer to that, would be that this is all happening in you head." He then pauses. "But that's not to say that this is any less real."

"What...?"

Unzen stares, trying to figure out what the deal is here. For some reason, this doesn't strike her as any sort of attempt to recruit her back into MACUSA's stewardship. But then again, she's always wondered about why they or the Magical Diet never tried to pick her back up in the first place, especially when there was all those hamfisted attempts to reign in kanmusu by the ICW back in the early days. Mental gears turning in overtime, Unzen finally looks at the agent with suspicious caution.

"So if this is all something happening inside my head..... is that why somethings don't make sense?"

"Yes."

Unzen's gaze narrows as something occurs to her. "I'm not the one in control here, am I?"

"That depends on your definition of control." Blinking in disbelief, Unzen watches as the wizard causes a cup of coffee to appear in one of his hands, without using his wand. Immediately, he then lets go it it, causing the cup and it's liquid to simply disappear into nothingness. It didn't feel like any kind of wandless or non-onmyodo magic she knew of either. "This place exists because of the hopes, dreams and desperate wishes of others, for a kanmusu who can lend their aid. That's why you are here. Now that you are though, it is entirely your show? Your lucid dream now, as it were."

Heavy Cruiser looks at the man with an uncertain frown.

"If this is some sort of imaginary dreamland somebody else made that's pulled me in, then why are you here?"

"To tell you how to get out, now that you've figured it out."

Unzen considers those words, and the fact that they not so subtly imply this guy was potentially involved in whatever got her stuck in this dreamland in the first place. "And what makes you so certain I can't figure that out for myself? I already cottoned on that this place isn't real."

The wizard just looks at her apologetically. "It's a precaution more than anything else. We didn't want you to be unprepared for when you woke up in the real world for the first time."

"The first time..... " Something about the man's sentence makes her pause, even as she feels her suspicious worry grow once more. "What do you mean by that?"

The agent hesitates for a moment. "Do you want to sit down for a moment, maybe? This is going to be something big."

Unzen looks down. She looks at the empty graving dock. The piles of materials never put to use in the vessel they were intended for. The destroyed warehouses still filled with the ruined components they had yet to complete.

She looks east, back to Japan and what she's always tried to tell herself was home, and yet has always felt off, in a way not even the excuse of three decades in secrete service to another nation's magical intelligence service could explain. All the holes in her history, all the connections and friendships with people that don't really make sense, the strange distance from her own comrades.....

Quietly, Unzen looks at her hands, as if seeing them for the first time.

"I.... I'm part of the dream aren't I?" the Heavy Cruiser shakily laughs. "It's not the world that's fake. It's me."

"What, no-!" Abruptly Unzen find her hands awkwardly being held by a gloved pair, as the young agent tries to interrupt her train of thought. "You're real now, and that's what matters."

"Now?!" The Type 1941 Heavy Cruiser looks herself up and down, suddenly feeling as if she is seeing everything about herself and her history in a new light. "I'm a paper ship aren't I? This is like what happened with Montana and Shinano, isn't it? But then why do I remember-"

"You remember because we needed to not only add spiritual weight to make the summoning viable, but because we also needed somebody who was proven and experienced."

"H-How does that work?"

The agent looks at her awkwardly for a moment. "Those on the summoning team outside can explain the fine details better than me."

"So you made me. You took a papership, and somehow built a person, from the ground up." Unzen can't help the small stab of fear and violation that runs through her heart. "You didn't- If my mind and memories are just made up-"

The wizard looks at her, trying as earnestly as he can to express open honestly. "I can promise you, we did as little as possible to directly influence how you think and who you are. Admittedly we gave you a background that would probably paint us in a better light then most other Japanese shipgirls, but that was primarily so you would know and be familiar with us. Everything thing you think, is your own thoughts. There are no geas, compulsions, subliminal orders, Manchurian triggers, or any other kind of mind magics or brainwashing at play here, I can promise you that."

Unzen just stares in disbelief. "And how do I know I can trust you?"

"Well....you could always talk to one of the others?"

"One of the others?" Unzen's eyes then light up in realization. "Frankland? Frankland was like me?"

Things slowly begins to fall into place.

"That's why no one's spoken to her lately. She's woken up or whatever you people did."

"That's right."

Unzen opens her mouth, almost about to demand she see her friend, before pausing as a thought occurs to her. These people apparently made her. And now what they want her to do, is to wake up? Still feeling somewhat shaky about these rather self-image changing revelations about her origins and life, Unzen does her best to put on a suspicious look that she directs at the agent.

"What happens if I don't want to wake up and play along with whatever this is."

The man gives a grimace, but makes no real show of opposition or surprise as he shrugs helplessly.

"Well then, we respect your wishes and leave it up to somebody else to wake you up."

Unzen raises a disbelieving eyebrow. "Oh really?"

The agent makes a face. "We're not so ignorant as to believe we can make a shipgirl do things and work with people she doesn't want to."

He then looks at her somewhat apologetically. "I don't want to sound cold, but to be fair, summoning you alone is a massive boon for the war effort. If you want to enter a nomaj naval service, we won't stop you. We can drop you off at whatever base you like right now, and they'll be able to wake you up just as easily as us. And even once you do wake up, if you disagree with what we want your help with, you can still walk out at any time."

Unzen stares at the man, still not entirely trusting or feeling like she is off the emotional roller coaster. "And what exactly is it, that you have gone to all this effort of not only summoning a paper ship, but then giving me all these...." Unzen hesitates. She doesn't want to say fake. She can't right now. "....all these memories and training."

The man shifts, looking rather relieved she is at least curious.

"There's a big briefing with all the broader facts and finer details planned for when you and the others wake up, but the short version? You know how Indiana Jones was running around trying to stop the Nazi from getting their hands on powerful ancient artifacts?"

The comparison causes the Heavy Cruiser to raise a curious eyebrow.

This guy knows about Indiana Jones? An agent of the Magical Investigation Bureau is familiar with a classic film. A member of MACUSA has watched a nomaj movie.

What kind of bizzaro-world change is this? What has she 'missed' in the last forty years?

"Well it's basically something like that." The man pauses, considering his next words before forging ahead with more honesty. "There are..... a number of situations that have arisen over the last few years, where Abyssal have come dangerously close to finding various items and relics that MACUSA and the ICW have hidden away over the past few decades. Real 'sealed evil in a can type stuff'. A lot of it is junk left over from World War Two, or the Cold War. Artifacts and records of things that really ought to have just been destroyed, but the people in charge at the time wanted to keep, simply for the sake of having every edge they could get over the Russians."

"Now these things are at risk of falling into Abyssal hands, ever since the islands they were hidden, warded away, and imprisoned on fell deep into Abyssal territory during Blood Week. Some of our info suggests that there are a few Demons and Princeses who even have an idea of what's out there, and are actively looking for these lost containment bases."

Unzen looks at the man with some still lingering suspicion. "So why now? Why has no one tried to grab this stuff earlier? Why make me, and not just pass this info on to existing shipgirls."

The man grimaces. "Because of a number of things. We know of one Princess in particular, who is increasingly active and nearing success in her searches for a number of our containment archives related to the activities of Unit-731 and Thule-Gesellschaft."

"Secondly, over the last few years, there has been a change of leadership and administration in MACUSA and MIB thanks to the war. Most of those who wanted to hold onto these things for the sake of having them for a rainy day, have since been replaced by those who were originally field agents and operatives back in the day. People who had to go about actually studying, acquiring or dealing with these artefacts and their fallout. Many of those now in charge, disagreed with ever keeping the things in the first place, and consider destruction in-situ or loss of the bases just as acceptable, if not more so than actual recovery."

"And lastly, we've resorted to summoning you and a couple of others for a number of reasons. The first is the issue of the Statute. While it will come down soon, it likely won't fall in time before some of these caches are raided. And even once it does, who's to say those friendly to the US, or Japan, or NATO, or humanity in general will get to them first." The man then also shifts uncomfortably. "There was also some debate about approaching shipgirls who do know about magic, but ever since the Gale-Washington Obliviation Incident a while back, they and the rest of the USN have just been too suspicious and hostile for such a secretive operation behind the backs those outside of the Need To Know circle, to be viable. You need to be a magic user to access some of these archives and caches, and through how we..... 'formulated' the backgrounds of you, Frankland, and a few of the others, you have the knowledge to get through the security measures, or at least find and destroy the locations of where these sites are, whether or not you choose to stay with us."

Unzen's brow furrows in thought as it occurs to her that she does know about that incident. And a great many of MACUSA and the magical world's other fuck ups in recent history now that she thinks about it. If there were any sort of secret agenda to make her subconsciously loyal or endeared to them, they either didn't put all that much effort into limiting knowledge or memories of clusterfucks showing them in less favourable lights, or they simply didn't care. The Heavy Cruiser is silent for a very long moment, considering what she has been told and her options.

"So if I wake up, and I don't like what I hear.... I can still leave if I want to?"

The man nods placatingly. "If you ever want an out, the door is open. The one caveat is that it's a one way deal. Once you're out, we can't count on you, so you're out and you probably won't hear from us until the Statute falls and whoever inherits this operation with nomaj oversight takes over, if they want to contact you at all either."

"We'll still give you a hand in setting up though." He then hurriedly adds. "Cash, clothes, curriculum vitae, portkey to wherever you want to go. No one will follow you, no one will try to change your mind, no one will keep tabs on you beyond the normal requirements for shipgirls interacting with nomajs, and while we would prefer you don't tell anyone about what you've seen or been told, we won't try to stop you."

The Heavy Cruiser resists the urge to bite her lip, and instead wavers for a long moment, internally weighing up the choices on offer.

The wizard seems sincere. And so far she has yet to hear anything at all that sounds like it could be a secret or ulterior motive being spun another way. It almost feels as if the hope is for her to go along with whatever it is, but the planning is expectant for a worst case scenario. One in which it sounds like she leaves, and they wash her hands of her for operational unreliability.

But what happens if she does leave?

What then?

.... does anybody actually know her?

If her whole life has been some sort of fabrication to give her some form of 'pre-existing' knowledge and training, then what?

Who actually knows her?

Where can she go?

Unzen feels the muted sting of hollowness and the sensation of the ground being pulled out from under her once more, before steeling her nerves and resolve.

If she has nothing to loose right now, then she has everything to gain. And right now she needs to gain some idea of what's going on, and some measure of trust in who or what she knows.

"You... you said Frankland's.... outside? Awake or whatever, right?"

The wizard nods. "That's right."

"And if I don't want to be a part of whatever this is, I can leave?" She then snaps her fingers. "Just like that?"

Another even more emphatic nod. "That's right."

Looking around at the 'world' around herself, the Heavy Cruiser takes in everything she can see for what might possibly be the last time.

'I'm sorry kids.... looks like I won't be able to make the picnic after all....'

With a quiet sigh, Unzen almost seems to deflate in on herself as she looks at the wizard.

"Alright. Wake me up."

The man smiles weakly with relief.

"Okay, here's how this is going to work...."
-------------------------------------

The first thing she becomes aware of is liquid.

Liquid, like a warm watery potion, that almost completely covers her from head to toe.

Opening her eyes and seeing only darkness except for a small spot of light above, for a moment the Heavy Cruiser panics. Up feels like down, and she has no point of referance as to where or how she is drifting in the currents around her. For a brief moment she then fears that it has all been a dream. Some sort of irrational vision at the point of death as she slowly sinks in battle.

Then rationality takes hold, as the Heavy Cruiser realizes she can feel warm metal beneath her. Attempting to sit up, her head then breaks the surface, only to collide with the underside of whatever is above her. Wincing and coughing as her confused lungs try to clear themselves of the strange substance she finds she actually can breath through, Unzen then flinches and shies away as the lid is suddenly removed. Abruptly her world goes from too dark to see, to so bright she can't help but cover her eyes.

It's not just bright. It's loud too.

As she blindly tries to sit up though, the Type 1941 Heavy Cruiser then manages to pick out a familiar voice among the cacophonous din. One that she hasn't heard in almost a week and a half, and registers in tandem with the gentle, friendly feminine hand that attempts to help her off of her back.

"Shit, sorry about that! They didn't think you'd get up that quickly. Should have taken the lid off sooner."

Blindly, Unzen squints and tries to look around, finally locking on to a large white and blonde shape. One that to her radar and sonar which are not as impeded as her Mark 1 eyeballs, register as 40,500 tons of 406mm armed battleship. The Heavy Cruiser can't help but blink in surprise.

"Frankland-?" Then she coughs, hacking up more of the strange repair-bath like liquid from her airways.

"Oh crap, just take it easy Unzen! Give it a minute to all come out. Trust me, it sucks, but it'll all be out soon."

The Japanese CA can only ride out the storm of spluttering, all while wincing at not only the volume of her american friend, but even the sound of her own coughing.

"Too- Too loud," she whispers when she at last feels like the worst of it has passed. "Too bright as well."

Through her blurry vision, she thinks she sees the battleship's expression shift, likely to an empathetic wince judging by the tone of her voice.

"Ah- right. Don't worry about that, just give it a little bit. You'll get used to it in an hour or so."

"What?" The Heavy Cruiser squints at her friend. "Why?"

Even through the painful brightness, she can see how Frankland grimaces slightly. "Because you've technically never used them before."

Realization dawns on her, as Unzen then recalls her conversation before 'waking up'.

"This is.... this is the real world then?"

"Welcome to IRL buddy." With a slight wince, the battleship then gives her friend a shaky smile. "I'd give you the tour, but I'm pretty new here myself."

It's a stupid joke, and one that falls pretty flat as well. And yet in spite of that, Unzen can't help but give a helpless snort of laughter before shaking her head. Thankfully, it at least also helps restore the confidant sunshine grin on Frankland's face as well.

"Come on, let's get you out of this crap and into a shower. You'll feel better once you've cleaned up and had a chance to talk to some of the docs and eggheads."

"Docs and eggheads?" she asks. Looking up from the half-filled tub of goopy potion she's still sitting in, Unzen then glances around vaguely, as Frankland helps her out of the coffin-like vessel and to her unsteady feet.

"Oh right, your vision's still shot to shit. The guys running around now trying to wake everyone else up." The battleship proceeds to gestures for emphasis at a strange mass of colors she now realizes is moving. A collection of shapes and shades that, as they get closer, reveal themselves to be group of hooded figures, surrounding a vessel very similar to the one she was in.

"What the....?"

Vulnerable as she is, Unzen feels some slight apprehension towards approaching the unknown wizards currently swarming around the important glowing coffin thing when they very much look like they should be working. Frankland however, apparently feels no compunctions about doing so, and homes in on one bespectacled figure in a white lab coat-like set of robes in particular.

"Hey Comiket! Unzen woke up already! What's the hold up?!"

Wincing at the verbose loudness of her friend, the Heavy Cruiser takes a moment to glance around, squinting her eyes against the glare to try and get an idea for where they are.

At first she thinks it's some kind of a warehouse, thanks to the sheer size of the room and the open girders on the steel ceiling far over head. Gradually though she recognizes the various bits of ventilation equipment attached to the roof, as well as the faded labels adorning the exterior walls declaring such things as 'Clothing', 'Furniture', 'Home Appliances', 'Toys', 'Cosmetics', 'Houseware', and 'Sporting Goods'. It's some kind of old, defunct department store. Then further dividing the interior of the building are large walls made up of shipping containers, most of which almost seem to have been converted in to smaller laboratories, magical studies and office spaces. Large corridors of clear plastic tarpaulins wrapped over tent-esque poles and arches which connect everything, intermittently broken up by what look like magical airlocks.

While it looks generally well set up to magically isolate and screen anyone and anything going in and out of the perfectly controlled magical environment, physically it's not exactly the most imposing set up she's ever seen. In fact, even half-blind as she is now, Unzen is pretty sure that if she squints hared enough, she can see through the maze of plastic corridors arching off the main thoroughfare, all the way to the entrance.

When she was told she could walk out of this place any time she wanted to, she didn't think she'd have to worry about doing so on accident. Beyond simply managing the magic of the environment at the center of the repurposed store, almost none of the wards are actually geared towards keeping anything contained. The only area with anything like that, is the admittedly respectable and impressive arrays built up on the triple stacked containers forming the octagonal walls and observation decks of the strange summoning chamber she has found herself in, as well as the rune coated tent of plastic forming the roof. Sure, this room could probably contain a even some of the minor divine kami, but outside of it, most of the set up looks like it was built with impermanence in mind, and a consideration to flee with only the important bits and personnel if need be, rather than retaining it if things went south or it was metaphorically burned somehow.

Looking around the summoning chamber again, and trying to pick out the finer details of what exactly is going on around her, Unzen then hears a obtrusively clamorous voice full of ostentatious Russian that makes her wince. Combined with how flamboyant yet incorrect the mix of stereotypical slavic and English is, the Heavy Cruiser groans as the proverbial light bulb goes off.

"Please don't tell me that's...."

Frankland hangs her head with futile resignation and facepalms, still mid-discussion with the wizard she was talking to. "Yeah. That's Krasnovia. I guess it turns out all our jokes about her being too derp to be real, were a lot closer to home and ironic than we realized."

As if summoned by her very name however, one of the larger blurs of black and red in her vision slowly resolves itself as it gets closer. For a moment, Unzen's brain short-circuits as she tries to make sense of what she sees.

"Oh shit, it's a Re-Class!"

At last getting close enough to be more clearly identified by Unzen's eyes however, Sovetskaya Krasnovia then laughs in her bombastic mix of butchered Russian.

"Do not fear tovarishch Japanese Heavy One! For it is I, the rodivshiysya v Amerike warrior and communist-built shield of the people of the Soyuz Sovetskikh Sotsialisticheskikh Respublik! The defender of the proletariat, Sovetskaya Krasnovia!" The Battlecarrier then grins wildly and holds something out for them to see. "And look Frank of Lands! You have one of your pomoshchnik back, and now I have one of mine!"

Unzen is at a loss for words as she then at last notices what is being held by one of the BBV's hands like a disorientated wet cat, while Frankland facepalms. Meanwhile, the nervous wizards catch up from the summoning vessel on the side of the room Krasnovia has brought her prize over from.

"Oh my god, you nutcase. Did you just pull her out just after she woke up? She's probably still disorientated!"

Hanging from the back of her shirt, a Project 47 Destroyer Leader resignedly holds her gun, and looks around with a familiar pained and confused blindness, still dripping potion all over the floor. Much like Unzen, Razboynik winces with every word bellowed by the two capital ships who do not seem to understand the meaning of the phrase 'too loud', but unfortunately seems to be the worse off, what with her closer proximity to the exuberant Krasnovia.

"Can you please be quiet?" asks the destroyer plaintively, and in much better English than her supposedly American-born comrade. Catching the Heavy Cruiser's eye upon finally realizing she is there and pausing, Unzen then gives the Russian DDL a look of empathy.

Awkwardly, the wizard Frankland was talking to then attempts to intercede. "Um... I'm sorry, but could you kindly, possibly, maybe put your friend down? Not that there's likely anything wrong with her, it's just- you know- basic check up- confirming everything's in order."

"Nonsense! No need for check up!" exclaims Krasnovia with bombastic pride for her subordinate. "Tovarishch Large-ish One is hale and hearty vershina of rossiyskiy performance!"

"I would like to see a doctor, yes," interjects the wincing DDL quietly as she sways slightly from the Battlecarrier's grasp on the back of her shirt, only to be ignored by the obliviously grinning and still boasting Krasnovia.

"Man, I forgot how many braincells she was missing," mutters the Heavy Cruiser to herself.

"You think this is bad, you haven't had to live with her for the last two days," retorts the Battleship with a whisper of her own.

At that moment however, the duo's whispering is interrupted as a new shape of reds, grey and fiery blonde now interjects itself into Unzen's hazy vision, accompanied with a voice almost as haughty and imperious as the way in which it's owner holds itself.

"So this is where you lot of dummkopfs are. Showing off your excuses for cohorts already are you?"

"Da!" declares Sovetskaya Krasnovia proudly, as she holds out the dripping Razboynik like a puppy.

Making a face, Sankt Walpurga bristles, backing away so she doesn't get get any of the remaining potion on herself. "Yes, a rather fine specimen, I'm sure. Of course, nothing beats precision German science and engineering. If I may, let me introduce a superior Zerstörer of the Kriegsmarine!"

With a flourish, the Battlecruiser then steps aside and gestures with her mast-wand-staff-thing. Unzen however, can only blink uncertainly, before finally posing her question.

"Okay, maybe it's because I'm still half-blind, but what are we looking at?"

The German growls. "Verdammt, stop hiding!"

For a brief moment, Unzen has a glimpse of something. Both the prow of vessel and the cap covered head of a girl, much smaller in displacement, and nervously peeking out from behind Sankt Walpurga's back.

A moment passes, with the destroyer frozen like a deer in the headlights, partway through peeping out at them from behind the lightly armored capital ship. Then there is a commotion across the room, and the wilting shipgirl disappears once more, in spite of the Germanic tirade from the red head.

Turning her own head in search of the new distraction, Unzen then freezes. Even at this distance, and visually impaired as she, it's obvious to all that whoever has now appeared, is certainly.... colorful and poofy.

"Behold, it is I! By your call, I have come!" Uncertain wizards and witches edge away from the summoning vessel with preemptive caution, as now standing precariously astride it's slippery rim, a young girl with a vague mix of french and american accents now blindly twirls a sword and shield with a flourish that makes her cape flare out dramatically behind her. A motion in spite of the dripping potion still weighing it down. "Enemies of humanity beware, for Duc de Danzig has answered!"

A quietly stunned pause ensues at the dramatics of that declaration. Even Krasnovia seems at a loss for words.

Well, at least until she starts clapping.

For a long moment, the only noise that fills the room aside from the soviet's lack of self awareness, is also the sound of the unprepared Razboynik hitting the floor after being dropped like a wet sack of potatoes, and uttering some choice Russian curses into the concrete.

And then from behind Sankt Walpurga, there is a small "eep!" of terror.

Up on her stage, the sodden Duc de Danzig immediately homes in on the sound with a dramatic snap of the head and accusatory thrust of her sword. "I know that sound of cowardice and terror! That can only mean one thing! My rival in swordsmanship!"

"En garde my foe!" With a flying leap from her current position, the knightly french destroyer then attempts to blindly hurl herself towards Sankt Walpurga's position. At the same moment, the shipgirl hiding behind the battlecruiser stumbles backward with a frightened shout, at last revealing herself and her more colorful/obviously magical uniform than most normal Kreigsmarine destroyers to the others. "Have at thee Z-59!"

Unfortunately (or mybe more thankfully for Z-59), Duc de Danzig completely misjudges the distance of the gap and the actual size of the room they are in, most likely thanks to the temporary 'awakening blindness' that appears to afflict everyone only just woken up. To rather hilariously unimpressive results, the French Destroyer then faceplants into the floor with wet splat that sends her cape ingloriously over her head, still a good five meters away from the rest of the group. After a few moments, Duc de Danzig then holds up her sword defiantly, even as she remains face down.

"Yoooou..... win this round... myyyy.... rivalllllll....."

Limply her hand flops back down, her sword landing with an equally loose clatter.

With a sigh, the lead wizard Frankland was originally talking to, then gives a resigned facepalm. "This was why I wanted you four to lead them all to different check up labs and briefing rooms as they woke up."

Krasnovia and Frankland at least look mildly embarrassed, but Sankt Walpurga instead bristles and angrily attempts to turn the blame elsewhere.

"Hey, I was gonna do what you asked! But then these two idioten were over here with their two, so I thought we'd changed the plan!" The German capital ship then waves her mast-wand angrily at Frankland in particular. "Scheisse, she didn't even grab the right one!"

Frankland gives a slightly affronted frown. "Hey, Aby's a big girl, she can handle herself."

"Oh really? Then where the hell is the littlest Girl Scout?!"

"I'm right here," interrupts a casually youthful and softly feminine, yet still surprisingly authoritative voice from behind the battlecruiser, causing her to practically leap in surprise.

"Um Gotteswillen!" Shrieking like a harpy and spinning in place, Sankt Walpurga then levels her wand at the surprisingly independent and mobile USN destroyer that has appeared behind her, despite the fact that she should be temporarily blinded and overly sensitive after awakening.

"Where the hell did you come from?!?" Pausing for a moment, the battlecruiser then blinks in confusion as she unexpectedly notices the perspiration coated object the modified Somers Class Destroyer is holding. "And where the hell did you get that?!"

Holding the chilled bottle of oil against the side of her head, Abraham Potter offers a lazily raised eyebrow. "I found it."

"That was on the table over there, wasn't it?!"

Potter shrugs casually, causing some of her messy black hair to begin perking back up as it dries in the air of the summoning chamber. "I needed something cold. My ears were already feeling sensitive, and then all of a sudden, there was this awful high pitched screeching making them hurt even more."

Sankt Walpurga almost looks ready to turn the same shade of red as her uniform. "That was mine verdammt!"

Before the Battlecruiser can spontaneously detonate, Frankland decides to interject with awkward merriness.

"Well, I think this proves Aby's good enough to look after herself after all!"

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT YOU ARSCHLOCH!"

With a look of horror, Krasnovia then claps her hands over Razboynik's ears, causing the white-haired destroyer to look mildly discombobulated from the impacts on either side of her head.

"Nemetskiy cyka! Such language! Do you even listen to what you say? There are small ones here, you sick fuck!"

Walpurga looks to be on the verge of a silent aneurysm at the obtuse hypocrisy of that statement, while Frankland can only facepalm.

"Look, the reason I came over here to begin with, is because I could see everyone in Comiket's crew looking worried and confused, so I just wanted to check there wasn't anything up with Unzen since she woke up quicker than expected." Turning around, the battleship then frowns at the wizard in question, while the Heavy Cruiser hanging onto her shoulder squints against the brightness with uncertain worry. "Speaking of which, you never actually got around to telling me what was going on. What's the deal with everyone milling around the summoning vessels for Thames and Cahokia?"

With all eyes on the wizard, the man shifts nervously while the crews behind him continue to check over the last two coffin-like containers that have yet to open. Eventually with a wince, he adjusts his glasses and answers honestly.

"We're getting some weird readings from their summoning vessels."

"What kinds of readings?" asks Frankland worriedly.

"Ones that are all over the place. Everything's higher than usual for some reason. Thames is not just giving off magical readings twice what was expected, but even her heartbeat and engine seems to be working either in double-time or in duplicated tandem."

Unzen winces, the mental image that immediately comes to her mind being some sort of conjoined monster. It's a thought likely shared by many of the others as well judging by their expressions. Frankland in particular, looks worried for her fellow English speaking shipgirls.

"What does that mean then? Is she alright? And what about Cahokia?"

The wizard holds up his hands placatingly, even as he shakes his head with confusion. "By all accounts, they seem fine. But even so, Thames' readings alone are confusing, but Cahokia's ones are giving off measurements across the board that are multiplied from what we were expecting by almost-"

Before the glasses wearing scientist-wizard can finish, there is a shout of warning from many of his coworkers and underlings surrounding the nearest of the coffin-like summoning vessels.

"Everyone get back!"

"It's gonna pop!"

With a sound like a bursting balloon, for a brief moment, the lid on the summoning vessel bulges and deforms, like a cartoon dam threatening to break. And then the latches fail, flinging the metal shape open in a misty explosion of potion that makes Unzen's ears throb, and flings the lid to the side with a tremendous crash which almost breaks the hinges. Accompanying the dramatic awakening however, is also a shape that is flung skyward with a confused, girlish cry

With a small shout of shock and pain, a small spear wielding destroyer, still covered in potion, then lands on her rump in front of the group.

"Thames!" shouts Frankland in shock, as she and the others rush forwards.

As wizards and shipgirls alike crowd around the wincing purple haired girl, the 1944 Later Battle Class Destroyer variant then looks up in confusion.

"Who?"

Looks of confusion, uncertainty, and uneasy horror cross the faces of the groups. Frankland then nervously asks again, hoping it's just the disorientation causing the destroyer's answer. "Thames, are you okay?"

Even as she looks slightly less bewildered from her airborne summoning experience, the spear-wielding girl tilts her head and returns the battleship's concern with a confused frown of her own. "Why are you calling me that? I'm Ushant, remember!"

"Ushant???" To the side, the bespectacled wizard pulls a clipboard out of his magically sized pockets, and then begins scanning through his reams of notes and parchments in confusion. "That can't be right, you should be Thames....."

The destroyer bristles slightly in annoyance. "I know we look a lot alike, but I'm Ushant! Not Thames!"

From within the summoning vessel, there is a groan. One that then shocks and takes the group by surprise, as it's owner sits up with a sleepy yawn, revealing a second purple-haired and spear-wielding destroyer who looks almost like a mirror-image of the first, then flipped.

"Did someone say my name?" asks the second Battle Class Destroyer. Looking around for a moment in confusion, she then squints vaguely in the direction of her twin on the floor. "And why is everything so bright?"

"They were confusing us again!" cries her apparent twin, Ushant, with frustrated annoyance.

There is a stunned silence for a moment, before Krasvoia then shouts exuberantly.

"Glorious day my kapitalisticheskaya dog comrades in this fight for humanity! Twins they were! Even if they are of suspect imperialist British quality!"

Both twins then round on the Battlecarrier with furious purple glares. "NOW WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!?", they shout in tandem, causing Unzen and Razboynik to both wince at the raised volume, and Z-59 to duck back behind Sankt Walpurga with an "eep!"

Sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose, Frankland then glances at the glasses wearing wizard. "So Comiket, what does this mean for Cahokia. You were saying something about her levels being high as well?"

The wizard grimaces and then opens his mouth to answer, only to pause as something occurs to him.

Glancing back at his clipboard, he then scans his notes. Finding what he's looking for, he then looks at the summoning vessel for the destroyed that very nearly exploded from the double summoning.

The bespectacled Comiket then pales as he looks to the crew surrounding the last summoning vessel that has yet to open.

"EVERYONE OUT OF THE ROOM!"

Used cringes at the volume, while Frankland looks baffled.

"What-?"

"USHANT WAS AT TWO-TIMES READINGS AND VERY NEARLY BLEW UP HER VESSEL AT THE MOMENT OF OPENING! CAHOKIA IS AT SIX!"

Frankland's own eyes then widen in understanding. "Oh shit-"

Then she hears a groan of metal. Unzen hears it too. As the battleship spins around to locate the sound, the Heavy Cruiser finds it also. Even with her blurry vision, she easily picks out the one unopened summoning vessel left in the room, that is now beginning to deform.

Most of the witches and wizards are already bugging out, and have been doing so since the lab coat wearing wizard's first shout.

"Uh.... Frankland? I think we need to move."

"Yeah, that might be a plan. Guys?"

Looking around when nobody answers, Unzen then realizes that even Krasnovia is ahead of them on the curve for this one.

From somewhere in the distance, she then makes out the familiar screeching of Sankt Walpurga. "Come on you dummkopfs! What are you waiting for?!?!"

Unzen then yelps as Frankland scopes her up into a bridal carry and then begins charging across the room, in the opposite direction frrom the ominously groaning and increasingly deformed and not-so-coffin-like-anymore shape. Abruptly the world becomes a jarring, bouncing cross between a roller coaster and marshmallow-hell as the battleship ferries her to safety.

Safety in this case being, once the world stops shaking, the interior of a large metal box with windows and instrument panels in it. Apparently they are in one of the shipping containers that double as both the walls of the summoning chamber, observation bunker, and control room.

"Is that everyone out of the chamber?!"

"Chamber clear!"

"Then shut the door!"

Unzen winces as the container shuts with a loud clang that rings her overly sensitive ears terribly. While the makeshift 'observation area' at first doesn't look all that physically imposing, the Heavy Cruiser then feels the hair on the back of her neck and arms stand on end as someone then turns on the protective wards.

An action that is just in the nick of time to. With a sudden eruption of goopy potion and steel, the coffin-like summoning vessel almost seems to come apart more like an overfilled water balloon than a solid object. Thankfully none of the pieces are very big, and it probably would have been non-leathal, even if they had been in the room, but at the very least, Unzen is thankful that they are at least protected from the fine splatter that launches out in every direction and coats the entire room. She still has yet to even get the goop from her own summoning off as well.

After a few uncertain moments of peering through the potion covered window, Unzen then notes movement in the room, obscured by the film of goop now covering the viewing slits. Seeing the wizard with the lab coat and spectacles reaching out for something, for a moment the Japanese Heavy Cruiser wonders fearfully what he is about to do.

If this were a horror movie, this is about the time somebody does something stupid.

Either someone goes out into a supposedly empty room because they can't see anything, and then gets eaten by the monster the scientists have inadvertently created/summoned/unleashed, or some method of containment is then attempted, which doesn't work and the monster escapes.

That's if it doesn't just burst into the room full of all the people closest to it with the big glass windows, and immediately turns them into it's victims.

Unzen tenses as she watches him press a button on the control panel in front of him.

After a few moments, a set of converted windshield wipers start working over the windows, occasionally aided in restoring vision by periodic sprays of water from the also adapted nozzles.

The Heavy Cruiser actually has to blink at that one.

Then she catches sight of what is actually in the now properly revealed room, and for a moment Unzen almost has to wonder if her eyes are playing up in some new baffling way, beyond just finding everything overly bright and blurry for a moment. Her question as to whether or not she is just seeing things however, is then answered when Frankland puts her down for a moment, in order to uncertainly rub at her own eyes as well. Because things we're strange enough either, Unzen's own shipboard equipment also tells her the exact same thing her eyeballs are seeing.

With awkward hesitance, the lab coat wearing wizard pushes another button, one that turns out to be the microphone for the Summoning Chamber's PA system.

"Er.... Cahokia?"

His answer is a single nervous look, and five more uncertain glances from the small group that now stand inside the chamber, at the center point from which the potion-splatter pattern radiates out from. Because now in the middle of the summoning chamber are now six different girls. But where Thames and Ushant are apparently mirrored copies of each other, All the extra kanmusu in this case seem to share almost exactly the same but differently colored features, clothing and equipment with the original, who now hesitantly raises her hand as she stares with horrified shock at the mess around her.

"Um... th-that would be me."

Unzen stares.

They're palette-swaps.

They're all literally palette-swaps.

Alongside Cahokia, there's a second blonde, two redheads, and two ravens. All six share the same general base uniform of long socks, short skirt, and a long sleeve shirt, but Cahokia, one of the red heads, and one of the black haired mirrors all share the same apparel in the form of feathered earrings, face paint, and a beaded shawl, with the main differences being the colors of their hair and the extras they've personalized their uniforms with. Meanwhile, of the other three, they all still subscribe to the same silhouette, but seem to have a more western wizard vibe to their extras. Embroidered rather then beaded half-capes, metal earrings of different mystical symbols, and celtic looking designs to their face paints.

They're literally Mortal Kombat style pallete-swaps of the same original base design.

It's like looking at kanmusu version of Scorpion, Sub-Zero and Reptile vs Smoke, Cyrax and Sektor. Except in this case, it's the color combos of red-yellow, orange-black and white-yellow, vs green-black, red-blue and black-gold.

Meanwhile, with the crisis apparently over, the lead wizard sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, while the rest of the wizards around them begin congregating, conversing and hypothesizing in cautiously unsure and confused tones.

"Oh boy..... now how the hell did this happen?"

Outside, Cahokia and her clones offer no answer as they glance at one another uncertainly, shuffling in mirrored but distinctly different manners of nervousness, before collectively shrugging or hold their hands up.
-------------------------------------

Dragging a pen down the list, Comiket then lists off the assembled names for the benefit of the older, military looking man beside him.

"-sooooo, along with Cahokia, it seems we also have; CL-155 Pine Barrens, CL-156 Katzimo, CL-157 Bermuda, CL-158 Superstition Mountain and CL-159 Roanoke Colony. I had the team run a quick check of the names, and while they're not places that would turn up for a nomaj Light Cruiser of the USN...."

"They fit with the scheme of Cahokia if we consider that we named her after a magical town." Deep in thought, the man distractedly runs his finger tips over his ungloved hands, tanned skin marred by a crisscrossing mess of scars on each palm. "Three of the oldest native american magical settlements in the US still around today, and three of the sites first settled by western magical populations as well."

Comiket nods. "The pattern is undeniable. Ushant fits as well upon closer inspection too, following the naming conventions the Royal Navy for the Battle Class destroyers. 1944, a naval action between Allied and German destroyer flotillas off the coast of Brittany."

"I see," says the man as "I recall, weren't the Hadia and Blyskawica involved in that one?"

"That would be correct, yes."

His response is a quietly contemplative hum.

Seeing the older man's obviously weighed down thoughts, the younger wizard then follows his technical superior's gaze curiously.

There's not a lot of secrecy or foreboding cloak-and-daggery-ness when your entire base of operations is inside a defunct nomaj department store, and when most of it's actual structures are made of up vacuum-sealed plastic corridors, shipping containers and glorified tents. It's not exactly impressive, but it suits the planned impermanence of the place. It also makes certain aspects of work rather convenient, especially since everyone has the same clearance to simplify things, meaning there are no worries about anybody seeing or doing anything they shouldn't.

Half a dozen tents and corridors away, one of Comiket's fellow members of the summoning chamber operation team leans out of the shipping container that comprises the breakroom, and waves an empty coffee pot in his direction. While his sign language for fieldwork isn't the greatest, working ain't an environment where half the base is see-through has been great for remedial learning. Lazily flashing back the signs for 'Five Minutes, Meeting, then Regroup', Comiket watches as his coworker heads back inside to put the pot on.

Then he returns his focus to what his boss is actually looking at.

Just across the way, the assembled shipgirls they have summoned, are now slowly beginning to congregate in one of the larger tents that double as a briefing room on occasion.

It's interesting to see how they all interact with each other, in this brief moment where it is all of them not quite by themselves for the first time since being summoned.

'Not quite by themselves' being the operative phrase.

What with there being barely any actual walls in this base, beyond the structures built out of containers such as the labs, armory, break rooms and dorms, while it is easy to see them, it's also rather simple for them to see back as well.

Ironically enough, it was their own Americans who seemed to view them with the most caution and suspicion. Initial friendliness aside, Frankland has consistently continued to subtly hold them at arms length, even after arriving. A fact Unzen has also picked up on and began emulating. Then again, that wasn't unexpected for the two. They were after all imagined serving as flagships coming from an era rife with some of MACUSA (and thus by extension, MIB's) worst and most pointless Cold War dickery. Abraham Potter was also proving to be somewhat tricky to gauge where she stood in consideration to them. Silent and distant though the messy haired destroyer might seem, she also showed signs of being terrifyingly intuitive and smart.

Comiket and the others hadn't yet been able to get an actual idea on where Cahokia stood in relation to them. For the time being, the leadship of the canceled CL-154 Class had proven much to busy just trying to manage her own sisters/clones.

He and the others were still trying to wrap their heads around that one. Right now the two hypotheses was that they'd either inadvertently piggy backed off of whatever the Canadians had done the other day, or the CL-154 design had been more finalized and close to summoning via normal methods than anyone realized. That was also currently the winning theory behind why they got two 1944 Later Battle Class Destroyers. After all, the plan had been to order two, even if they never got around to actually building them.

Speaking of the twins.....

Comiket breaking his gaze from the frankly unjustified surreptitious suspicious looks Potter was giving him to- wait. Was that his pen?

The wizard sighs as he watches what Potter is now placing on the table as her latest offer for the pot in the card game she has initiated between herself, Razboynik and Krasnovia. Idly, he notes that with her back to them, Comiket can see the battlecarrier's cards. Said battlecarrier is losing badly, has a terrible hand, and yet seems to be under the belief she is doing well.

Off to the side, Sankt Walpurga watches the proceedings imperiously, occasionally making the odd deriding comment about the match or the others' performance.

And then there's Duc de Danzig and Z-59.....

Duc de Danzig is currently chasing Z-59 round and round the table, and yet in spite of the glowing magical sword on her own waist, the German destroyer seems more interested in running, rather than facing her sword and board wielding french counterpart.

Apparently nobody else is paying attention to this.

Well, aside from Thames and Ushant, the latter of whom seems to be attempting to stop the former from joining her French ally in the chase.

Comiket does the only think he can do and facepalms.

These were the shipgirls they expected to stop Mad Scientist Princess from obtaining all the various Forbidden Knowledge and Powder Kegs of Evil hidden all over the place and lost in hostile Ayssal territory???

A chuff of restrained chuckling makes Comiket look up at the man beside him. The older veteran just smiles.

"Don't worry. This is about inline for what's expected for shipgirls. Whether they stick with us or go, they'll be professional in the field."

The younger wizard grimaces. "You still have to convince them of that you know?"

"That I do," he admits with a nod. "Speaking of which, we promised them answers before they had to make any kind of choice, so answers I better give them. Before I do though-"

Reaching into his pocket, the man then pulls out a wallet from which he retrieves a fistful of bills. Comiket looks at him in confusion.

"Sir?"

"Go find Lynx. Tell him to go around and grab orders from everyone who wants anything from the usual places back in town. Lunch is on me today."

"Really sir?"

The older wizard nods. "You and your team did good. The only unexpected surprises we had were of the pleasant kind too. Whether they stay with us or not, your team have more than succeeded at their side of this project."

"Th-Thank you sir!"

"Take five Comiket. You deserve a break before the inevitable storm of reports is due, too."

Nodding at his superior in thanks and taking the more military man's polite dismissal for what it is, the younger wizard then leaves to excitedly seek out the rest of his more scholarly cohorts to share the good tidings and good fortune.

Alone, the older man remains, starring in silent contemplation at the gathered shipgirls who await his briefing.

After along moment, he then exhales slowly, mentally ordering his thoughts for the likely topics and inevitable questions to come.

'Well, here goes nothing.' He thinks to himself quietly.

No biggie. He just has to try and convince a bunch of shipgirls to help him finish off once and for all, all the various shit that the legends and greats he learned and apprenticed under, never got the chance to properly see through. Legends and greats they now probably knew almost better than he did, and would have felt strongly about leaving things the way they did. Sins left to fester and lesser evils allowed to survive, for the sake of politics and a sword to hold over the heads of their enemies should that rainy day of World War Three have ever come.

And then there's the secondary missions potentially on the table. Retrieval or 'protection' of lost US Intelligence or security assets. That'll be a real dozy to try and propose. He's still on the fence of even entertaining the viability of offering those at all.

Externally he is cool, calm, collected and granite. The picture of crisp military resolve and decisiveness.

Internally he wavers, wondering what Woodsman, Swordsman, or any of those other venerable titans of MIB Field Operations he once and still did look up to, would tell him now.

'HUNTER 2-1! GO TALK TO THOSE KANMUSU!'

Yeeeaaaah, that's not helpful.


*-*-*
Spoiler: Side Notes
So yes, I know that Azur Lane Roon is obviously a German ship, and Indianapolis is a CA.

But right from the outset, Roon's rigging is the closest thing I've ever seen to a 'shipgirl version of a Re-Class', or a mechanical version of the monster tail deal. It even mirrors what Krasnovia would have, what with the turrets being triples. Just imagine she's got stars or something, instead of the iron cross looking elements of her design.

As for using Azur Lane Indianapolis for the CL-154 clones, well.... She's basically the only thing I was able to dig up at all, that at least looks like she could be a cruiser, is also somewhat respectable looking, and came off as more of a mild nod rather than being in the face or over the top with her design.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Opening her eyes, Wisconsin gave a soft groan while watching as Halifax retracted her rigging from the shipgirl. With a glance around she noted that there were only a few shipgirls left in the repair docks and those were rapidly being healed from the brawl just outside the harbour. And when she glanced at the clock, the Battleship had to shake her head in disbelief.

It was less then twelve hours after Halifax's summoning.

Within six hours of her awakening, the Installation had went to work with all the various shipgirls. The ones with the lightest bit of injuries were the ones who took the least amount of time to be healed by her. Most of them had been hurt enough for a few hours stay in the repair fluid, yet Wisconsin had watched as Halifax had them in perfect health within a few minutes and gently moved them on to the party still going on.

Part of her was still amused at the squeak that came from that one Uboat when Halifax had patted her on the ass to get moving. The rest though was still slightly embarrassed when the Installation had given her more attention to the Battleship afterwards. Now? Now Wisconsin was also almost entirely healed. Here and there under her skin was a flash of light from a torch at work, or a grinder, and so forth. But there was also more to it then her being healed.

Stretching, the American could feel herself for the first time since her summoning feeling better then she had in years. Having seen the birth of the Steel Warship, through both World Wars and the Cold War, and into the Abyssal War, Halifax had done repair work for all sorts of warships. Canadian, British, American, French, German, and others while she continued to build warships herself. And now it showed as the various shipgirls could feel all the little bits of wear and tear just melt off them as the Installation went to work.

Throughout her hull, Wisconsin could feel some of the teams performing tune ups on her boilers and elsewhere. Nuts and bolts were tightened or replaced entirely, things such as her ventilation were given a through workover, and so on. Literally, she felt like she had just come straight from a few months in a drydock. Glancing around the repair docks, Wisky could also see the other girls. Not just their human bodies, but also their hulls.

All of them were being swarmed over and worked on by tens of thousands of dockworkers from throughout Halifax's time as an naval base.

Looking towards Baden, she could see workers on her decks fixing not just her turrets, but cutting away damaged sections and refitting new ones nearly seamlessly. Revenge, as she watched had one wrecked turret removed entirely and a new one being fitted into place with a speed that somewhat shocked her. For her part, Bonaventure was having her damaged screws removed and also replaced. A throat clearing brought her back to the German who was looking at the Installation even as the darkness from a black eye completely vanished. "Fräulein Halifax, if I may ask?"

There was an amused look on Halifax's face as she glanced over at the Battleship who looked like a toddler in size next to her. Well, looked at her the best that she could with her eyes unseeing due to her mind being in several hundred places at once. "I suppose that you are wondering how it is that I am performing the repairs to you as well as I am, eh?"

Slowly, the Imperial German Battleship nodded. "Ja, the thought did cross my mind, Fräulein. It is somewhat odd as even Scapa Flow has a few issues with us."

Head tilted to the side, Halifax hummed. "The answer is quite simple, Halifax has always been an immigrant city. Pier 21 here was actually the entry point for many, many people seeking a better life in Canada. Including many Germans both between and after the World Wars. A number of whom did work in the docks back in Germany or as naval engineers and I am having them lead my teams for you." Eyes widened at that even from Wisconsin. "I also have a number of fairies? Well, more like actual shades I suppose, in various libraries and other sources to look through books and the Internet at your plans." Then her eyes furrowed and then widened some as she brightly smiled. "Oh! Thank you!"

Confused, Baden was about to ask when she noticed even more fairies appear. But to her surprise, all of them spoke German and got down to work on her repairs. "What in the world?"

A chuckle escaped Halifax as she tilted her head to the southwest. "It seems that Lunenburg is also awake. She just sent me a number of Germans who settled there to me to help. I think that she is also trying to kick Liverpool awake as well, which works hopefully."

Utter silence met her before the various shipgirls shared a look with each other. Then coughing, Wisconsin looked at her in disbelief. "Are you saying that you're sharing work crews among each other? Even though she's..."

Lips twitching, Halifax let out a deep laugh. "Even though there is a distance between us? That is exactly what I am saying. Though all of us sort of worked together during the World Wars to be honest for repairs. In a way the group of us are interconnected and if I need anyone, I can just ask."

It went without saying that all of the shipgirls shared a wide eyed glance with each other.

Suddenly, Halifax snapped her fingers and several hundred fairies appeared on her rigging. One of them had a notepad and she gave a nod. "I want you bunch to get started now on design work. Look up all the plans and such that I have, as well as those for Bismarck and the other German WWII ships as well as others. Then get to work designing one of those modifications that we can give to the Germans... Oh my, yes, that would be a wonderful idea!" Looking towards Baden, she smiled some. "How would you like a British radar set? I am rather sure that I can fit you with one easily enough, perhaps with some fire controls as well."

Rapidly nodding, Baden gave a small nod at that. "I will admit, Fräulein Halifax, that would be wonderful. Though I will have to get some permission from my superiors, you must understand. But I see them having little problem."

With a wave of her hand, the Installation gave a nod. "Its not a problem, I could use the time to iron it all out. But I'll get my design teams on it right now just the same. Maybe some Hedgehogs or Squids for some of the Destroyers...? Yes! Oh Creator, yes! Get two hundred working on that right now! Also have fifty of you looking up Japanese warship designs, with any luck we'll have some things to send to them as well..."

Eyes wide, the remaining shipgirls glanced at each other before smiling almost viciously. After all, one of the major problems was getting different technologies from the different nations to actually work together. But, it would seem that an Installation could do such easily. Leaning back, Wisky glanced at Halifax. "You're not going to suggest any modifications to me, are you?"

Blinking, Halifax turned her blank eyes onto the Battleship before smiling. "No, dearie." Then she paused and shrugged with a thoughtful look. "Unless I can get those 3-Inch guns that you Americans and the British were working on. I'll have to think on that one though..."

Simply leaving Halifax to her musing, Wisky leaned back and relaxed some more as the last repairs on her were done. Part of her was considering, quite seriously, to help her get in touch with South Dakota. Not because she wanted to see the other Battleship's reaction to being treated like a child, especially with a hug of pleasant death that would likely see her head disappear in the Installation's rather massive chest.

Not at all, and certainly not due to a certain incident a while back.

With a shake of her head though, Wisconsin turned to something far more important in her mind. Mainly the form of the two shipgirls next to her and also being repaired by Halifax after the brawl. Despite everything, Wisconsin would freely admit that it was both something that she had been avoiding since they appeared just before Halifax had finally awoken fully. Something that she both dreaded and looked forward to.

Her two sisters were right there, the two Iowas who were laid down and never finished.

USS Kentucky, BB-66 and USS Illinois, BB-65.

It was then that she noticed that Kentucky was looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "You know, if you took a picture that it would last longer, right?" Seeing a wince from her fellow Iowa, the Battleship ran a hand through her hair before glancing at the still muttering Installation. "How long until we're done?"

After a blink, Halifax shrugged and recalled her workers. "Pretty much now." A small smile on her face, she continued. "Now you bunch head out and enjoy yourselves, eh? And don't get too banged up soon."

Lazily saluting her, Kentucky shrugged. "Yeah, sure." Getting up as repair fluid streamed off her, the Battleship strode towards the steps that headed into the Repair Pool which Halifax now sat in when the Installation began to cackle. "What?"

With a look over her shoulder, Halifax snickered some. "Lunenburg just managed to wake Liverpool." At the looks of confusion from the others and a question from one of the Uboats, her grin widened. "You ever get kicked between the legs? Now imagine that with one of a good pair of sturdy boots. I think that Lunenburg must have been lifted several dozen meters in the air by it!"

Even as she winced at the cackle from Halifax, Wisconsin coughed. "Um, okay...?" Quickly, she followed Kentucky and Illinois into the shower room. Before she got much further though, she hit the floor as pain burst from her nose. "BWAH!?"

Fist held out, Kentucky snorted some as she looked down at the shocked Wisconsin. "That was for taking my fucking bow."

Before she could do anything else though, she found herself being hugged by Wisky, and tightly at that as she sobbed. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I am so, so sorry! Please, please forgive me!"

Trying not to fall, the never finished Iowa hopped around a bit. "GAH! What the fuc-"

Moments later, she became dazed as Illinois punched her in the head with a scowl before speaking in a Chicago accent. "You damn stupid fucking idiot! What the fuck was that for, Kentucky!? Seriously, what the fuck!?"

Simply groaning at the ringing in her skull, Kentucky gave her a grimace. "Goddamnit, Illy! And I didn't think that she felt this badly about it! Fuck! Just figured that I would punch her and all would be forgiven and shit."

With a sniffle from where her face was buried in her younger sister's neck, Wisky ignored the slightly warm feeling dripping from her nose. "O-of course I do! You're my sister and they..." Squeezing slightly, she swallowed. "I always thought that you were pissed at me and that was why..."

Rolling her eyes, Kentucky grunted a bit. "Sure, I'm a bit pissed at you but that is for being clumsy enough for needing my fucking nose. I'm more pissed at the fucks in Congress and the damn Navy for just leaving us lay there uncompleted and giving me fucking hope time and again, only to take it away. Hopefully the bunch of them burn in fucking hell for that." Much to her surprise, she got a mutter of agreement from Wisconsin which made her blink. "Wait, say what now?"

A sigh escaped from Wisky as she pulled away to reveal a little bit of blood dripping from her nose. "All of us, Iowa, Mo, and even Jerjer fucking hate those penny pinching bastards for not finishing you. Or at least giving you some dignity and not letting you rot there unfinished for years." Head tilting down some, she chewed her lip. "Is that why...?"

Just sighing as she rubbed her neck, Kentucky grimaced. "Why we never got summoned? Yeah, neither Illy or I wanted to come back because of that. I mean, considering the shit we went through? What fucking reason did we even have?"

Ignoring the wince from Wisky, Illinois shrugged. "Sure, there were you four, don't get me wrong. But the rest? Yeah, not interested." Then she bent down and pulled a cloth from somewhere as she wiped the blood from Wisconsin's lip. "But you four were also the reason why we told the Abyss to go get fucked on a spiked Katie when it tried to drag us out. As much as we hate the USN and government for their shit? We were not interested in killing innocent people or you four. And trust me, they would have sent us against you as Re-Class, I think. So... we told them that if they kept trying that we would show them our opinions the Chicago way, see?"

Eyes wide, Wisky stared at them both. "The Abyss tried to drag you out?"

Slowly, Kentucky nodded with a small sigh. "Yeah, key words there being that they tried. But like Illy said, we were not interested in being forced to fight you." Moments later, she winced as Wisconsin hugged her even tighter. "Dammit, Wisky!"

All the other Iowa did was mutter. "Sorry, I'm just glad, you know?"

Patting her on the back, Kentucky grunted. "Yeah, yeah, same here I guess. But still, I don't want my ribs caved in or anything."

Even though the last bit was said in a joking tone, Wisky gave her a serious nod. "Um, right..." Another thought then struck her. "So, since you didn't want to come back, what now?"

Illinois shrugged at that a little. "Not a damn clue. I mean... we sort of showed up because someone grabbed us by the neck and threw us at you all to try and sleep a bit longer. And we're still not exactly happy with the USN..."

There was silence before the formerly littlest Iowa spoke up. "Um, then why not do something else? Like... join the Coast Guard or something? Pretty sure that would annoy the USN."

For several moments the two unfinished Iowa stared at her before Illinois opened her mouth. Then she closed it and gave some thought. "Join the Coast Guard?"

At that, Wisky gave a small shrug and a slight grin. "Well, like I said it would annoy the fuck out of the USN. And you were never technically in the USN to begin with..."

Considering that, Kentucky smirked a bit. "That is a rather good point. Though there is the question of what happens after."

Once more, Wisconsin shrugged some. "Just stick around in the military until the war is finished and then retire. That's what most of us are planning anyways to be honest. Mo already has a nice plot of land she's bought in Maui that she wants to build a home on. And Iowa has her boyfriend, Davie."

That made both Illinois and Kentucky blink. "Wait, say what now? Boyfriend?"

Grinning, Wisky let Illinois help her to her feet. "Yeah, Big Sis is actually one of those Natural Borns. She was something of a designer and engineer before becoming a full fledge shipgirl... Anyways, right now she's dating Willie D's, who was also a Natural Born, brother Davie. Seems like the two of them are pretty happy, though whatever they got going on with O'Bannon is none of my business. Jerjer also has a boyfriend of her own as well..."

With a slow blink, the two never finished Iowas looked at each other and then back at Wisky with raised eyebrows. Needless to say, they decided that they needed information more information. At the same time, several other Battleships felt shivers go down their spines.

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K

Trufla said:
Oh yes, this one's a certified member of the Potter clan in good standing. Harry will take one look and hug the stuffing out of his new cousin. (Of course, we don't know exactly what her personal SWAG field will be attracting just yet, but there's plenty of time for that to come out.)​

Disregard logic, acquire shines (and women)

Trufla said:
I just have one question. Why does her image sport a radiation trefoil warning symbol? Did the Halifax Event do more than just increase the hull yield on this girl's pod?
Yellowhammer said:
I think because that is AL Indianapolis's artwork. Indianapolis carried the HEU core of the Little Boy nuclear bomb to Tinian in 1945 to be assembled there for use on Hiroshima.​

Basically that

Gear-2557 said:
Hey! Someone was actually genre savvy!
Harry Leferts said:
Its honestly amazing when stuff like that actually pops up.​

Tour Guide voice; "And if you look out your left window right now, you will now see MACUSA's new flying pig farm. Established in 2010, this avian-porcine facility caters to the care and needs of numerous individuals that have appeared thanks to the increased outbreaks of flying pigs in the years since Blood Week and the reorganisation of many major government offices and departments."

Hazard said:
So... Sargeant Foley (IIRC) and/or voiced by Keith David?​

He's not actually a Foley reference, although there's still a pretty decent hint to what his actual name might be in there

RCNAnon said:
Krasnovia, Walpurga and Frankland seem like a dysfunctional bunch, Unzen seems like she'll be the sane one and Abraham Potter is going to be the real leader but make everyone else do the work. At least that's what my first thoughts are.​

Have we ever seen a capital ship, that isn't at the very least subtle in whatever form of nuttiness they have?

K9Thefirst1 said:
THERE we go! ^_^ I kid of course, but the joke was begging me to make it.​

Ahahaha, that actually works perfectly for her introducing herself.

Now I kinda wish I thought to include that, even if it doesn't quite fit in the context/flow of the snip

K9Thefirst1 said:
Loving the dynamic Krasnovia and Frankland have. A breath of fresh air from the typical "Russkie and American Fight All The time" thing.​

Krasnovia: "Frank of Lands! My capitalist rival! Let's go bowling!"

Unzen stares off into the distance, having a 'Nam style flashback involving a destroyed bowling ally, a grease fire at a hot dog stand, and an attempt to finish off the evening by inciting the spirit of the revolution among a flock of angry seagulls

Frankland: *long suffering sigh*

K9Thefirst1 said:
Ah, the Tiffany Grant is strong with this one. I approve!​

[Germanic Tsun Intensifies]

K9Thefirst1 said:
Z-59 is a precious cinnamon roll that must be protected. That is all.​

Of course she is.

That doesn't mean the cinnamon roll is without teeth though. Duc de Danzig did want to fight her and viewed her (one-sidedly) as a rival for a reason. After all, her supposed background does have her supposedly being stolen by the Blazkowicz-expy

K9Thefirst1 said:
Huh... More... Relax than anticipated. Still, she has the family trait of stealing liberating things down.​

Comiket looked at the Destroyer.

The destroyer who was nonchalantly sipping a cup of coffee while she waited for him in the medical office for her standard post-awakening check.

Comiket then looks at the clipboard on which he was balancing a cup of coffee, while distracted with attempting to open the door to the room with one hand.

The clipboard that is now relieved of it's burned that was there only a second ago.

"Are you sure you're not a submarine. You ever have any submariners aboard or anything like that?"

"No, don't think so. I'm just a Potter."

K9Thefirst1 said:
I don't care what other people say, these MACUSA folks are good people. I see good things.​

Well, it's nice that somebody has some faith in their competence.

Cyberbeta said:
How do we know it is not Abraham Potter Himself Reborn and Gender Swapped? We have precedence for Polly being reborn as a ship, and it whould show extra why s/he is so suspicious as well as already exercising the Potter Magpie ability.


Only thing I can think of seriously beyond the briefing is for those who accept, what orders are they to be given for the inevitable encounter with any of the already summoned Kanmusu out in the field?

Cause I can see Krasnoviya learning both Jersey and Gangut are on the other end of the radio of the group hailing them and going full ham, setting off Gangut in happy reply and Jersey losing her shit.

Be it on the ocean or at a base, this scene must somehow happen!!!

I am serious on the set of orders though.
Richardson said:
"Who are we? We're the Ghostbusters in Black. You really don't want to see what we're about to do to that evil in a can. Take it away, Aby!" *Kongo-Kongo-Kongo away as a group while Aby trails up the back loudly and sarcastically playing the Ghostbuster theme on kazoo.*
Harry Leferts said:
That makes far, far too much sense.​

"You know, I've never seen somebody do radio-jamming by simply blasting the Soviet Anthem on multiple radios in order to put Cross Channel Interference on every single frequency, to the point that it's impossible for the enemy to hear anything over the noise."

"We banned her from the radio and PA back on base for a reason."

Harry Leferts said:
Well... at least they're giving them an out and brought them about to get rid of sealed evil in cans. Granted, that is only because they screwed up themselves, but...​

*-*-*
A few years earlier:

Swordsman: "Hey! Comley! You actually got a phone! Congrats on the promotion! Sad about Flurezburger, but then it couldn't have happened to a better man, the fuckwad. How're you holding up with the desk upgrade?"

Comley: "Oh you know. So, so. The typical thing whenever you inherit a post from somebody with higher clearance than you. Figuring out all the plates that need to be kept spinning, getting up to speed on all the ongoing things you didn't know about, looking up old records to figure out what was the logic behind those decisions, looking up some of your own old files and cases out of curiosity, then telling all your friends to step off because they think you're an in for all the questions everyone has around here."

Swordsman: "Ouch buddy. Now tell me how you really feel."

Comley: "Well, first I want to be sick, and then I want to set Records on fire with my eyeballs. After that, I'd maybe want to curse something. Preferably Flurezburger's corpse. And then maybe Helmut's too, wherever that asshole is buried."

Swordsman: "Er... shit, is it actually that bad? I mean, I know it's probably is bad, but you sound kinda... are you okay?"

Comley: "No..... Come up to Langely next week once I get the rest of my new house in order. I.... think I need to creatively reassign a few people, and then get the clearance raised for you and a few of other oldies and field veterans I can actually trust."

Swordsman: "You got a reassignment for me?"

Comely: "I don't know. Probably not permanently, Tokyo Station needs you now more than ever after the way the Diet's been decapitated and things are in turmoil over there. The last few days have been rather telling about the way field reports and analytics can be interpreted over here. But I need to... recheck a lot of these old records and reports. Potentially even against the mouths of the horses who wrote the things."

Swordsman: "Why?"

Comely: "Because either the Abyssals just did the american people a great service offing Flurezburger, or potentially half the Directors of Magical Intelligence since the preparation work for Bay Pigs was re-purposed, have inadvertently created the closest thing I've ever seen to a magical Broken Arrow event now that we've lost the Pacific."

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K Omake: Kraznova Misadventures

Omegasgundam said:
If the item was in Abyssal hands, it would be an Empty Quiver, but if the Abyssal don't know about it, Broken Arrow is appropriate.​

Currently Broken Arrow is thankfully still the correct term.

Technically plural.

yukicrewger2 said:
nikko(?), let's go bowling!​

The next morning
Spoiler

Highlord said:
ADDITION: Ah, I just read the Lord K bit. Nice bit of ass covering on the part of MACUSA filth. Real nice way to dress up "we created you from whole cloth to make sure you have no connections to anyone but us in order cover our own asses and make sure none of us ever face the music for the crimes we committed under the auspices of an organization and so-called government that a pretty good definition of pure fascist evil."

Not that expect anything different. I also expect the entire plan to go off without a hitch and for everything to end with flowers and rainbows because one or two people aren't vile scum, and holding people and organizations responsible for the actions they take isn't cute, PC, or both.
Savato93 said:
My issue with this is the fact that, well-intentioned or no, they are still covering up their own unforgivable crimes. And they're manufacturing living, thinking beings in hopes of doing it for them.

Research Princess hunting down their shit is an issue. I'm not arguing against that. But IMO, these people are as good as executed no matter what.​

Spoiler: Spoilered Because Mildly Long Rant/Vent
You know more and more, the part of me that used to run quests and enjoyed punishing players for making assumptions and stupid decisions, kind of wants to have the MIB summons follow the painfully black and white or MACUSA-bashing view points of some of the people who really don't seem to get the nuances of what's going on, so they can then watch things blow up for everyone because apparently "MACUSA are teh evilz!!1!". Never mind the kind of broad brush that paints of a society we last saw canonically in the 1920s, and already seemed somewhat divided. Or that Harry Leferts has already implied some level of slow cultural shift and change that was a delayed mirror to the nomaj American culture shifts of the 60s and 70s, at a slower rates across 70s, 80s and 90s.

I mean, maybe that's my fault for being someone who likes to be hands off and leave readers/players with questions and lampshades from them to ponder or look for. But then it's not like there has been how many snippets of build up at this point, hinting at the divisions in the old ranks between themselves and their predecessors that the Abyssal War has done away with, that these are the people trying to right those original wrongs and fuck ups done by said predecessors, or the fact that this is really nasty stuff that an Abyssal Princess who is already functionally immortal is after (aka the kind of things where "a thousand years of darkness" is a valid part of some item descriptions), or that they don't need the Kanmusu to actually stick with them.

They're underhanded and they're literally the Not!CIA, but for fucks sake. You'd think I'd have made my point that these people are not mustache twirling villains, and are actually competent, though admittedly only human and with all the fallibility that comes with it.

These people are spies! Some of them were soldiers and operatives fighting the Nazis before some Kanmusu were even twinkles in their designers' eyes! Naming reference aside, Woodsman had all sorts of little hints dropped that were supposed to suggest he'd been around even longer than Mary. So of course that colors how they act and are written! These people think and say via the implied and unsaid almost, as much as they do with what they actually write!

Mary's been that way from the beginning! Howard/Swordsman was the same. The chapter with Woodsman was full of it too, but apparently the low hanging fruit that these people aren't completely the angelic image Mary normally gives off was more attention grabbing. It's a trait that's common to all the veterans seen so far, with Kisei being the only one remotely written like an open book.

Here's a fun consideration. Mary finished up her service with MIB in the 90s as a Colonel, even if it was a retirement posting at a desk.

But back to my point. The crux of this whole plan, right from the beginning, has been the Statute of Secrecy and magic. They can't just waltz up and tell the USN about these things, and even if they did, what then? You need to have magic to get into the archives. But they've already blown all their goodwill and points of contact with the USN anyway thanks to earlier hamfisted activities by other portions of MIB and the rest of MACUSA.

So what next? Its not like they can just ask another nation's kanmusu. They're not trusted there either, thanks to word spreading, or the ineptness of their own magical authorities. Besides, would you ask the JSDF to go on a hunt for what are essentially lost WMDs of dubious ethical morality, that should have been disarmed or destroyed by a previous administration but weren't, and are now lost deep in enemy territory.

Sure, I suppose in a purely hypothetical situation for non-magicals, the UN is an option too if things were bad enough, but these are wizards. Would you trust the ICW in it's current state to tie your shoes for you? Never mind help in a wild goose chase, deep into Abyssal territory for things your nation should not have, and that only upon inheriting you predecessor's position in a political climate best described as 'cut-throat blame-game dumpster fire', did you learn what exactly was on the inventory books. Keep in mind, this wasn't like they just magically and merrily woke up one morning to find all the real fuckwits and bastards had been conveniently killed by the Abyssals through some divinely aided sequence of comeuppance. MIB (and MACUSA too) are organisations, with all the internal, divisional, policy making schizophrenia that implies, and tends to happen when such organisations go through change.

Just look at the transition of the CIA from the period of guys like Dulles, McCone, and Helms, to that of Colby and Bush Sr. Which isn't that bad of a comparison really, since many of the CIA's issues and later fuckups in that time stemmed from a somewhat similar situation of 'government is unpopular after a lengthy and inconclusive war, new blood is sparse due to long training and low recruitment, there's to many old people around, especially in middle management, and these a push to do something successfully after various intelligence and geopolitical losses adding to strained relations with the political administration".

So, what should they do? Just leave them out the for the Abyssals? Or potentially once the Statute falls, some other nation. The writing is on the wall at this point. Most groups with half a brain would realize the masquerade is eventually coming down.

Just like with normal WMD storage, these places weren't entirely secret. Just hard to find and access, or very well hidden and guarded. Abyssals aren't the only ones who would be interested in what might be in such a place, even if few know what's actually inside. Imagine if some bright spark got it into their brain to try and find one of these places, for the purpose of selling to the highest bidder. A case of the classic "soviet nukes for sale", except with magic mcguffins of doom to any tin-pot dictator, magical or otherwise, with a swiss banking account.

And that's just the sealed evil in a can stores.

Consider for a moment, the fuckery that even these days takes place in Britain for example, involving espionage and spying. Now consider matters of information. The kinds of things that though merely mundane, are potentially even more volatile or damaging to the US and it's defense or intelligence networks, magical and nomaj. All those places, moldering away and forgotten behind Abyssal lines, that with a little bit of magic or some modern innovations, could repair lost folders of written documents, or computers systems.

It would be a great in road with your muggle government or nomaj intelligence community, if you could say, score the retrieved data from a reparo'd computer mainframe of somewhere like Andersen Air Force Base in Guam, or salvage something from what's left of the Naval Support Facility in Diego Garcia, seeing as the radiation would be mostly gone by now.

Once the Statute comes down and the Abyssals are gone, or at least mostly neutralized, what then, now that the primary factors limiting people from getting to these places (lack of manpower, fire power, and OCP-hostiles) are mostly taken care of?

The plan has never been about covering anything up. If anything, it's always been about the opposite for some details.

Because if the Kanmusu walk, then that gets certain pieces of info to the USN, without technically being an incident of any members of MIB themselves breaking the Statute. What on the surface is failure, is in fact the back up plan that allows a chance for the archives to still get dealt with before the Princess finds them. If they wanted to control and manipulate them, then giving them info on so many great and dirty secrets was a pretty piss poor and self-hamstringing way to go about it. What it does do, is not just give them information about these things, but how to actually find, get inside, and destroy them, if they want to go their own way.

At this point, what MIB is offering is their support for taking care of things their way. But if not, and the girls go it alone, the potential information leaks and loss of secrecy were already expected and considered acceptable with the scale of the threat.

I honestly have to wonder if I'm just bad at conveying this in my writing? Am I relying too much on subtly showing and hinting, rather than directly telling? Considering there's very nearly a 50/50 split that almost seems to be hoping they'd summon an Abyssal and get their heads all torn off, I can't help but feel like I could write Abraham Potter prison-shanking all the wizards in their sleep and the group spiriting away into the night, and people would like and praise the story line even more, rather than anything else.

And at what point did anything seem like sunshine and rainbows? Did Unzen look like she was having a good time finding out everyone she knew except for a couple of her friends, actually never knew at all her? Did Frankland and Abraham sound like they were ready to hold hands and sing kumbaya in that closing segment either? Here's a better question? Did the wizards sound like they expected the same in return?

What cooperation will happen, is almost certainly going to be colored by convenience, toleration and suspicion, for the sake of dealing with the larger threat.

Yes, these people are most definitely morally grey, but they're supposed to be by dint of the nature of their occupation/work environments. They are straddling the line between reasonable people/decision making, and measures/logic founded out of a combination desperation, inescapable resignation that everything they know and do eventually will pass once the Statute goes, and of course eight years of mounting war-weariness and other "the Statute is failing!"-related problems.

At this point though, it's almost like gas-lighting. Checking SV as well out of curiosity, the vehemence that almost every MACUSA related aspect or person seems to receive, no matter how evenhanded and neutral I think I have written some of these interactions and people is just boggling. Have I somehow unintentionally inferred at some point that MACUSA wants a fleet of brainwashed enforcers incapable of doubting the word of Big Brother to help prolong their North Korean style rule over the continental US?

I almost feel like I need to back off on the story line and switch to the JNHRO or Muramasas for a bit in case the plot I had planned needs to be reexamined for some glaring failure of logic. The hate towards them isn't even constructive. It's all just varieties of 'lol fuck 'em!', 'they only want to cover their own asses', and 'the wizards are messing with mind control/memory editing, so lets watch this explode because wizards", with no concern for who these people are and how they are actually acting.

drag0nsoldier said:
Just a wild thought on Z-59...Not to be taken seriously.

At Z's awakening: Dumbkopfs..Funf und Neunzig is 95 not 59!! Ugh.. Just call me Headhunter like my crew did. Its easier.​

"At a target that small?! That's impossible! Even for a guided torpedo."

"I-It's not impossible." The German destroyer then wilts as the gazes of all present turn to her. "I m-mean... I used to bullseye lindwurms with my G7a's back home. They're not much bigger than two meters, right?"

KBTKaiser said:
clearly make her Z-96 instead, packing a C-96 Mauser Machinepistol as a stand in for her gun?​

Well, she already has a sword

Harry Leferts said:
You know, this sort of annoys me. Partially because it sounds hilarious enough not to be a noodle incident...

But also the communist revolution for seagulls. As if they were not enough of a bunch of assholes.​

"Krasnovia!"

"Comrade seagulls were not ready to embrace the glorious spirit of the revolution."

"You got rid of them by throwing away our chips!"

"Bah, chips are for the bourgeoisie anyway."

"You made sure they wouldn't come back, by throwing the chips onto a train!"

"No matter Lands of Frank, only bourgeoisie can afford to ride the train in America anyway."

"There were people on that train! It's ten minutes to the next stop!"

"Then it is the fault of the bourgeoisie for not building more train stations to better service the proletariat."

"Actually, it's because the rail system sucks, but that's beside the point!"

Jaegerkin said:
Frankland turned to her companion.
"hey, Potter. Since we were actually born yesterday. Does that mean that pirate treasure is still there, and that you are not actually banned from all of Vegas?"

Abraham potter looked thoughtful.

"We do need operational funds..."​

*cue the music*

gaea said:
Well, at least the MACUSA did one smart thing that we can all agree on. They didn't create a Sub-girl Potter.

That would end in tears amd laughter.

Actually, anyone have any ideas why they didn't try summoning a sub-girl? Or did they think that a Spook trained Sub-girl would never ever be found. Like the USS Jimmy Carter.​

Actually, it was for the rather boring reason that a submarine wouldn't be able to keep up.

For operational flexibility and mobility, all the designs picked for the group can do at minimum 30 knots. Off the top of my head, it's either Frankland or Walpurga who is the slowest at 30.5 knots. Meanwhile, Razboynik caps out at 43 knots because Russian bias.

Or to Kraznovia's alternate reasoning;

"SUPERIOR SOVIET STRONKTH! LITTLE GIRL POWERED BY COMMUNISM, AND BURNING SPIRIT OF STALIN IN HER BREAST THAT URGES HER ONWARD! URA!!!"

Frankland glances at the smaller Russian present, who shrugs as the battlecarrier charges off into the distance shouting.

"I eat my vegetables and go to sleep early." Razboynik then pauses. "Also, I have like, six tablespoons of sugar in my coffee at every meal. At this point, I think the steam in my condenser is 30 percent caffeine, and I'm actually burning Black Blood of the Earth rather than Bunker Oil."

"So that's why your smoke turns dark at top speed."

The destroyer leader nods. "I once shotgunned a whole pack of Red Bull on a dare, and it did nothing. It's probably not healthy, but I'm at the stage where I'm worried if I stop, the accumulative caffeine withdrawal might kill me."

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K Omake: Story of Z-59's sword

Harry Leferts said:
Question is what sort of sword.​

Spoiler: Z-59 & Sword

*Back in the not-so-real-past*

"What is it?'

"Your lead designer's enchanted boarding saber. This is the weapon of a mage knight, and a magical officer of the Kaiserliche Marine. Not as clumsy or random as a pistol. An elegant weapon, for a more civilized age. For almost a thousand years, the Kaiserliche Seerritter were guardians of naval trade and protectors of seafarers of the Old Empires. Before the dark times. Before the Republic."

"How did he die?"

"A young wizard named Marth von Vaeder, who was a pupil of mine until he turned to Grindelwald, helped the Thule Society hunt down and destroy the Kaiserliche Seerritter. He betrayed and murdered your lead designer, in order to sell his plans to the Nazis and support their war. Now the Kaiserliche Seerritter are all but extinct. Vaeder was seduced by a powerful source of dark magic, known to the Thule Society and the Nazis as the Black Sun...."

Harry Leferts said:
Yeah, that was a dick move. I mean, seagulls have literally ripped off the balls of a man sunbathing.​

Wait, seagulls did what now?

*one Google search later*

Wow, what the actual fuck.

Harry Leferts said:
Why do I see her performing a "Mission" into Yokosuka to try and grab Ooyodo's magical and alchemically enhanced version of Black Blood of the Earth?​

I think with that in her system, she'd be able to start emulating Fry.

Harry Leferts said:
^These are also major points. If they don't have term limits, you might well have people who have been in their positions for literal decades.​

That, and to even progress through the ranks could take an eternity during peace time, waiting for existing positions to open up from people dying, retiring, or messing up and falling out of favor. By the time any new blood and fresh air gets to positions of power, they'd be there either by dint of becoming highly political to achieve such a position in any reasonable amount of time, or old enough to potentially be part of the problem via outdated doctrinal views or policy biases rooted in experiances which are no longer entirely relevant or valid as a base line for current issues and operations.

 

[darthcourt10]

Maes Omake: Why there are no Potter Submarines/Halifax summons help

Lord K said:
"Are you sure you're not a submarine. You ever have any submariners aboard or anything like that?"

"No, don't think so. I'm just a Potter."​

It might have been even funnier to have Potter be a submarine, but someone higher-up must have clued-in and put the kibosh on that idea early on in the project.

"Oh Hell No! We are not making a 'USS Potter' submarine! They're already kleptomaniacs to start with! What were you thinking?"

"Honestly? Potential as an 'asset retrieval' expert, Sir, but now that you mention it I can see how it might be... excessive. With our luck, the effect wouldn't even be additive but multiplicative."

"That's what I thought. I like my pants just where they are, thank you very much. Good idea on the name, but use a different hull."

*-*-*-*

Barricade said:
Send Ron over to meet Halifax and get some training under some of her fairies, during next summer break. By the time he comes back, he'll have EARNED Scotty's sweater-vest.​

Halifax: "Well... this latest problem is a bit more complicated than I thought and my engineers are asking for extra help... Hey, Peggy? Go see if you can get Baddeck awake? Gotta tickle you-know-who's brain with new problems and techy toys. Oh! Throw a bottle of wine at Louisbourg while you're at it, need her to pull her bullshit 'unlimited cod works' with all the shipgirls eating my stores empty."

Cue fairy Bell showing up riding (maybe ship-animal considering it's only 60ft long) HD-4. A 1913-built granny that could even back then run circles around Shima and Tashkent. Because if Ron is going to get training under engineers, may as well aim high (and aim for an actual Scotsman, no less).

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Few people paid much, if any attention to the mangy looking dog making its way through town. Those that did only kept a wary eye on it just in case it was aggressive or perhaps rabid. But then once it was out of sight, they dismissed it from their minds. Just another stray dog out on the streets, likely scavenging from trashcans and the like.

If only they knew.

Eventually though, the dog left the town and headed just outside of it into a wooded area. It was not too big of an area, a few hundred yards at most. It was before a small hill and overgrown as well. Brambles and the like pulled at the dog's fur, but it ignored that as that was why they had been planted there for. Upon reaching the small hill, the dog transformed into a man in what looked like old fashioned prison garb.

Glancing around, Sirius breathed a sigh of relief before walking to a rocky outcrop and tapping the stones in a set pattern. Then, as he watched, the stones moved apart revealing a metal door behind him. Sirius then pricked his thumb and pressed it against the door which clicked as it unlocked before he opened it and waited as the stale air inside flowed out due to charms and was replaced by fresh air. "Hopefully the Rat didn't hit this one."

Once he was sure that it was alright though, he entered the door which turned out to be an entrance into a large, concrete pipe, like those used for sewers. Upon reaching the end within a second or two, which opened into another pipe that had was going perpendicular to the pipe he was in. Quickly transforming back into a dog, Sirius sniffed and listened for a number of minutes before transforming back. Clapping his hands, he nodded as the lights turned on, bathing the entire area before walking back and closing the door behind him.

Would not do for someone to stumble on him.

As he did so, he could hear the rocks outside moving back into place, hiding the entrance from anyone who looked. After all, that was why it was enchanted. Moving back through, he entered the perpendicular pipe and took a left. Sirius soon entered a larger pipe, except this one was vertical, with the bottom and top sealed with what he knew was muggle steel and then concrete. Something that the Animagus knew as he had worked on it with James according to plans Lily gave them.

Which was something he was never so thankful for before as he was now.

Ignoring the toilet at one spot, as well as the small barrel which could be filled with heated water, Sirius walked to a group of chests. Each one was marked with a different name. James Potter, Lily Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew... That last one got a scowl from Sirius before he shook it off. There would be time enough to deal with that later after all. And he would be dealing with it.

But another chest, marked with "Harry Potter" made him pause. Even as a lump rose in his throat and he felt the sense of failure rise in his heart as well as self-recrimination and hate. However, he only gently brushed his fingers over it and gave a whispered promise. Then the wizard pulled another trunk out marked with his name and opened it. Inside were clothes both muggle and wizard. How well they would fit was another question.

That was not what was most important in Sirius' mind though. No, that was the small box that was also in the trunk and which he pulled out before opening. Inside, nestled, was a single wand. Not his old one, that was in some evidence drawer in the Ministry of Magic, if not snapped. It was one though that they had found would work after crawling through the selection of wands used by both Potters and Blacks. There was also a similar one in each of the other trunks, either bought from second hand wand stores or from the Potter storehouse or a Black Residence that Sirius had snuck into.

Gently, Sirius grasped the wand and pulled it out which caused a few sparks to shoot from it and a small sense of warmth. Sighing, he only shook his head. "Well, not a good fit but likely the best that I can do. Still, thanks." A few more sparks shot from it and he pulled out a wand holster and fit it onto his arm to hold it after performing a few minor spells.

Pulling out another trunk, marked Supplies, Sirius let out a sigh at seeing the inside of the expanded trunk. Along one "Wall" of the trunk, he could see tins of food on the shelving units there. Summoning one tin, Sirius opened it with the stasis charm breaking to reveal hardtack inside, well preserved and still good to eat. A quick transfiguration later, and Sirius had some bread that he was eating. Then he summoned a jar that was filled with honey and poured that on some of the bread as well before groaning.

After so long of subsisting first on prison gruel, then the raw and cooked seafood that Isley and her fleet ate, then trash? It was like the finest ambrosia. That was soon followed by powdered milk and with some water and transfiguration, Sirius had a nice cup of milk which to him was better then the greatest of wines. A twinge in his jaw though made him grunt before rubbing that part of his face.

However, Sirius ignored that in favor of finishing his quick meal and climbing down into the trunk. Opposite of the food, there was a shelf unit with various potions kept in stasis. A frown on his face, the wizard looked along them until he found a few that he grabbed. One of the vitamin potions went down his throat followed by one that was supposed to help boost one's immune system some. Pausing as he felt another twinge of pain, Sirius grabbed two last potions before climbing out.

Closing the supply trunk, though not before summoning a sleeping bag, the animagus pulled out two smaller trunks. One contained Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. Each bag containing at least a hundred of each form of coin. The other had muggle money in the form of Pounds Stirling, Euros, and American dollars. Each roll composed of hundred denominational bills though there were a few rolls of smaller denominations. Besides that, there were muggle passports as well within the trunks. One for each of them, though Sirius tossed Peter's to the side and burnt it with a wave of his wand while scowling.

Yet another trunk he checked had a shrunken van inside of it, a few petrol cans with stasis charms on them, and a pile of driver's licenses along with a roadmap likely years out of date.

With his hand running through his hair, Sirius allowed himself a small, sad smile. He could still remember Lily coming to him and James as well as Remus with the idea of building these small hideaways. The three of them had laughed, even with her explanation that they could be used just in case, especially if they were on the run from a Ministry fallen to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Amused as they were, the three had decided to humor her and worked alongside her to make five of said places scattered through out Britain. Each of them on plots of land owned under Lily on the Muggle side of things to make sure that they would not be discovered too soon. The materials were grabbed from Muggle construction sites and with some work had been buried with hills raised over them covered in trees and brambles outside to slow down anyone looking.

At the time, they had not really seen a reason for them though they went along with it because they did not have too much to do then. But as times became darker, they had considered them less and less amusing, and more and more possibly needed. After Lily and James went into hiding along with Peter, they stocked them with items for Harry as well. If they had to run, the plan was to head to one of these places and then head out. Most likely to the Chunnel to head to France, or to a Muggle Airport to head overseas somewhere. Escape to a place far from Voldemort and his Death Eaters where they could be safe, all of them.

That thought made Sirius look over at the trunk with Peter's name on it and he scowled. It was not a pleasant surprise for him that Peter had used one of the places, most likely when laying low after his "Death".

Not to mention that like the rat he was, he had ruined all the supplies inside that he had not used himself.

Shaking that off, Sirius turned his thoughts to other matters. Right now, he was never more glad to both Lily and Isley. Lily, because she had convinced them to set up these places and which he could now use for shelter while getting his bearings. And Isley, because without her care after his escape, he would have likely forgotten about their existence in his push to get revenge. His time spent with her had cooled his heels and helped him to think and plan.

The thought of the Abyssal Princess caused a small twinge in Sirius' heart though as well as an ache. He missed her, and did so deeply. Once more, he swore that after dealing with Peter, and at least meeting Harry, he would head back to her. If there was anything about Azkaban, it made one examine their priorities. And Sirius decided to drop his old ways and settle down once he had a chance.

Moments later though, the ache was replaced by a physical one and he grunted as he got up and walked to a nearby mirror. Opening his mouth he used a Lumos to give him some light and nearly recoiled at the state of his teeth. Sure, the food was horrific in Azkaban, and he sometimes got a punch from a guard to the mouth, but Sirius had not thought it was that bad. Briefly, he had the thought that he should be thankful that Isley even kissed him with how bad his mouth was.

But then, Sirius sighed and shook his head. "I suppose that I am going to need both of these then. Good thing I grabbed them..." Pulling out one of the two potions, he uncorked it before pouring it into his mouth and swishing it around. Granted, the wizard had to stop himself from screaming in pain as the potion cleaned out his mouth. Sort of like that Muggle mouthwash Lily liked.

However, it made sure that his mouth was clean and bacteria free as Lily had designed it when he spat the now dark liquid into the sink.

With hisses of pain escaping him, Sirius examined his mouth again with light from the wand. Now that he could see, he only shook his head before pointing the wand at his mouth and saying an old prank spell they had found. With a flash of light, all his teeth, rotten or not, were gone. Then, quickly, Sirius drank the second potion, a variant of Skele-grow, but specifically designed for teeth.

Feeling what felt like sharp splinters in his gums, which were themselves slowly being healed by the first potion, Sirius grunted. Pain was something that he was used to after all. And this was physical pain, which was better.

Pain let you know that you were alive after all.

Still letting out hisses, Sirius sat down with his back against the wall. It would be a long, sleepless night as his teeth regrew, now healthy and no longer rotten. Reaching into his prison uniform, Sirius pulled out a magazine that he had found in someone's trash. On the cover was a picture of Rose and Haruna getting married to each other, but more then that were two things that caught Sirius' attention. One was that there were Abyssals there which meant that, somehow, there might be some sort of peace or truce.

Just as important to him though was the picture showing Rose being escorted down the aisle. Right there, beside the tea set, and wasn't that odd considering that Sirius could remember Lily serving them tea with said tea set, was Harry. To Sirius, looked somewhat like James though without glasses there was also a lot of Lily visible. But more importantly to the wizard was that the boy looked healthy and happy. With what he recognized as Tsukiakari no Suzu at his side in the picture, the wizard could only think that his Godson looked like a man his parents hoped he could become.

For the rest of the night as his teeth regrew, Sirius read through the magazine. The pictures within were a balm for his heart that he sorely needed, though there was an ache there that the young teen's biological parents were not there physically to see this. But... just the same, Sirius smiled and looked at the pictures through the night until, in the morning, he fell asleep with it on his chest while sleeping in a cot on the other side of the small shelter.