Harry Potter & the Shipgirls

[darthcourt10]

mikelima777

January 20th, 2014

Entrance to the Strait of Juan De Fuca, Off Vancouver Island, British Columbia, Canada
Morning

The Straits of Juan de Fuca were once again full of activity, as a massive formation of vessels sailed out to welcome ships coming from a long voyage from Asia.

Battleships Canada, Laurentia, and Evangeline were out in force, alongside their eldest British sister Queen Elizabeth. The three younger Canadian Queen Elizabeth-class battleships were doing their best to hide their nerves as unlike their older sisters, they had little combat experience, aside from training and patrols. The Abyssal threat had largely faded from the Pacific Northwest, though plans were in the works for the Canadians to join other nations in operations to further liberate territory from the Abyssals. Cruisers Quebec and the N2 cruisers were also with the battleships, ready to engage surface and air threats. Also with them was the battleship Washington and a number of cruisers from Naval Base Kitsap. Ahead of the improvised battle line, pairs of destroyers were on patrol, looking out for both expected and unexpected guests.

Further back, Bonaventure already had a group of Banshees in the air, sailing alongside a bemused Lexington, who still didn't understand the craziness of the much smaller carrier. Bonnie had a grin on her face, but not for something headache-inducing she had done. Rather, it was for her new "protege," Habakkuk. Despite the mild weather in British Columbia, Habbukuk was still comfortable with deploying her rigging and sending out squadrons of fighters and attack aircraft on patrol. Nevertheless, the massive carrier had made a sizable dent in the region's supply of slushies, with dozens of 7-Elevens and other convenience stores urgently ordering fresh supplies of syrup or juice for their machines.

Well behind the shipgirl force were steel ships from the Royal Canadian Navy and the United States Navy. As Blood Week had shown, modern warships were vulnerable at close ranges and could be overwhelmed by hordes of Abyssals. They kept their radar on standby, in case of uninvited visitors on this day, as well as other contingencies. But aboard the ships, many were preparing to welcome back a convoy from Japan. And for a few of the personnel, it was much more personal, as they were going to welcome colleagues once thought lost on Blood Week, as well as the ship that endured after all those years.

US Navy P-8A Poseidon and RCAF CP-140 Aurora patrol aircraft had first contacted the convoy along the Alaskan coastline, sailing down the Alaskan Panhandle to the northern coast of British Columbia. Tugboats had been placed on standby to assist, though thankfully HMCS Regina reported no further complications to her propulsion.

Finally, at 11 AM, a shape appeared over the horizon, blaring its horn. The convoy had arrived.

Leading the convoy was the Province-class missile destroyer HMCS British Columbia. A few of HMCS Regina's crewmembers were confused when they first spotted the ship, mistaking it for an Arleigh Burke or one of the Japanese AEGIS destroyers. However, there was no mistaking the origin of the ship's two funnels, which were clearly based on the funnel of the Halifax-class, or the Canadian Naval Ensign flying from the mainmast. Soon, it was followed by the Hamilton-class frigate Kelowna, then by USS Ralph Johnson. Soon, other vessels appeared over the horizon, along with shipgirls leaving wakes as they skated across the waters. The container ships were still keeping formation for now, though it was expected they would soon disperse to the ports of Seattle and Vancouver.

On the shipgirls, hundreds of fairies manned the rails in salute as the old frigate passed by. The four N2-class cruisers began to fire blanks in a gun salute.

High above, a helicopter captured footage of the Wardens sailing in formation. Debates and questions would soon ensue both in Canada and abroad, as the camera zoomed in on Tandy, spotting the Canadian flag on her riggings before more footage showed Canadian flags flying from all of the Wardens. Then the helicopter focused on the ship sailing behind the Wardens, the main reason for all of the military presence. Despite still bearing the signs of use and age, HMCS Regina still carried an air of resilience and pride, as a massive Canadian Flag flew on her mast alongside the Royal Canadian Naval Ensign. Also flying from the mast was the
flag of the City of Regina, the namesake of the old Halifax-class frigate, while another Canadian flag flew from the bow. Flanking Regina were two of her surviving sister ships, Vancouver and Calgary. It had been almost nine years since the last time the ships were together at CFB Esquimalt.

HMCS Regina was soon led by tugboats towards the pier at CFB Esquimalt, officially ending what may be the longest sortie by a Canadian warship, with some crew members reuniting with family. Engineers from the base would soon be pouring over the vessel, to record every bit of damage and wear the ship had gained since her reported disappearance. The Wardens, under escort, were led to a ramp, where Admiral Lombard stood alongside dignitaries and other VIPs. Civilians and news teams were also on hand. After a few minutes of sitting in the water, their leader stepped onto the ramp, dismissing her rigging. Tandy Ferguson, daughter of Hoppou, the Northern Ocean Princess, took her first steps on her adoptive country and became the first Abyssal to ever step on Canadian soil not out of malice, but as an immigrant.

In front of the cameras, Tandy stepped forwards at an even, measured pace, flanked by Haida and Nootka. She finally stopped in front of Admiral Lombard, appearing stoic despite her nervousness. Standing at attention, her right arm snapped into a salute.

Several dozen miles north, a small group of five vessels observed the proceedings in silence, with wards to mask their heat signature and radar profile. Some might have found it odd to see a Cold War-era Annapolis-class helicopter destroyer joined by a C-class destroyer and three River-class frigates, the latter four mostly in WWII configuration. From the hangar of HMCS Severn, two scouts on brooms took off, heading to relieve the previous pair who had been on patrol for over four hours. By one of the frigates, an Orca approached a hanging ladder before seemingly shrinking down and melting away, becoming an indigenous man who was already looking forward to some rest.

Aboard the Severn, a young officer approached and saluted the Captain. "Sir, Crawford reports no signs of hostile abyssals." The captain nodded with a slight smile, "Excellent Lieutenant. And with no one spotting us, I do believe it's our time to head home. Thank God MACUSA didn't get involved."

"Sir?"

"Those Yanks still have idiots trying to hold on to the damned Statute and Rappenport's Law. Our Ministry of Magic has already finalized the transition plans to reunite with our nomaj counterparts. Hell, the Ministry's taxation department is already in talks with folks from the Canadian Revenue Agency. Last I've heard, a number of MACUSA congressmen are still pushing for stricter enforcement of the Statute. While others are pushing for the immediate ending of the Statue."

The Captain then gestured to another officer. "Comms, inform Crawford, Silvermoon, Tkaronto, and Mille Roches to prepare to return to base. Time to head home."

******
Comments? Thoughts on the Canadian MoM's navy?

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

Dove at a Dinner Party: Part The Third

A Comedy of Ill-Manners, Shocking French 'Customs', and a Fire in the Rubbish Skip

Passel House Orangery

Saturday, May 13th, 1899
Spoiler: A Meeting Among The Trees


Colombe d'Aubigny du Chasteler stepped into the glass-walled Orangery and closed the door behind her. A whispered incantation in Hindi and a pair of hand passes locked the door behind her and placed an alarm and privacy ward on it. Hurrying the length of the Orangery with her determined stride, her unseeing eyes glided past the short dark-haired witch dressed in a ruby-red silk dress encased in her own privacy ward who was writing with a somewhat perverted smile on her face in a shaded nook between two of the orange trees that lined the glass walls and shielded the inside from observation.
Spoiler: The Orangery

At the far door, another incantation and gesture locked and warded the other door to the building. Colombe bowed her head, and then spoke aloud to the ghosts that had been haunting her for the last day.

"I can feel your eyes on me and I just don't care! Go ahead and do your worst, I'll still do what is right!"

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

Lyra's head snapped up at the unexpected and unfamiliar female voice with the French accent in her English, and she looked out from her niche to see a blonde girl in a dove-gray mourning dress with her back to the witch.

The blonde snapped her fingers, and the dress shifted to a pair of very tight fitting dark brown breeches (covering a delightful derrière), a cream-colored linen shirt with ruffles at the neck and wrist, and polished black riding boots. The overall impression was a character from a Dumas historical novel, heightened by the blonde unwrapping the shawl she carried and throwing it over a nearby chair behind her with an arrogant grace. That revealed a swordbelt of some iridescent scaled leather, which she buckled to her hip with the ease of unconscious familiarity.

One hand caressed the golden hilt of the rapier gently before the mystery woman about faced with a slap of leather on leather from her boots. Above her, the sun broke through the clouds to illuminate the figure through the glass of the roof.

Lyra licked suddenly dry lips and her hands clenched in the folds of her ruby-red silk dress at the sight of the girl - no young woman! - in front of her.

Her tanned face was heart-shaped with high angular cheekbones below a noticeable widow's peak in her gold hair. Her crystal blue eyes with just the barest hint of an almond shape surrounded a small, straight nose gently turned up at the tip. Full ruby red lips above a narrow pointed chin curled in an arrogantly smug smirk as the mystery woman replied with considerable passion and emotion in her voice.

"No matter what it costs, me, no matter what it takes, I swear that I'll cleanse the stain on our family's honor! What's the matter, cat got your tongue, ghost?"

Lyra's eyes widened as she realized that thanks to her privacy wards, the mystery Frenchwoman thought that she was alone. Then her eyes traced down to the triangle of tanned skin where the linen shirt was unbuttoned down to the midpoint between her clearly feminine cleavage.

Small but scrumptious...

"Hmmph. Figures." The figure's challenging smirk widened as her left hand took hold of the sheath for her rapier. "Time to have some fun before I have to play the grieving girl this afternoon."

Her face turned murderous and her eyes flashed with pain, guilt, and grief as she hissed venomously. "Not that I would do anything other than piss in the coffin of my murdering, treacherous, slave-owning bâtard of a great-grandnephew if he were here now!" Her voice raised volume as she continued, fire flashing from her eyes and tears trickling down her cheeks, "'Investments in the Congo' he said and then tried to bury me there as an impediment to his plans for wizardry. Well I'm not dead yet, nor am I your pawn! You hear me Hippolyte!!"

The last was said in a scream of pain and fury that caused Lyra to wince, remembering a dark night her fifth year in the Slytherin Dormitories. Lyra remembered hearing a young pregnant girl named Lenora Miller, abandoned by almost all her friends and the young man who she had thought had 'loved her', scream like that into her tear-soaked pillow when she thought no one was listening to her shame and grief. A young girl who her family had strongly discouraged Lyra from befriending and supporting because of her middle-class Mudblood heritage.

A young girl, who had 'drowned in a swimming accident' when she visited her Muggle parents over the summer at Brighton. Lyra knew deep down that Lenora had elected to swim out to sea and not cast any charms that would have saved her life... so to never return to a school and other people who had wounded her so cruelly.

A young girl who had at least one person in her House privately mourn her when the news reached Hogwarts. A person who was too cowardly at that time to do the right thing and stand up to the bullying from the others and her family. A person who could have saved Lenora's life and a soul - and did not.

From long talks with Ian and her Arashi Clan 'fellow wives', Lyra knew full well now that having someone to share a burden could enable a broken and hurting soul to mend and endure the unendurable just by getting through another day. But not having someone that could give simple human kindness and love and even the strongest will would snap sooner or later under the weight of accumulated suffering.

And unless Lyra's eyes deceived her, this beautiful young woman was dangerously close to the point of snapping. As she controlled herself and bottled up the demons tearing her apart from the inside out behind that armor of smug self-confidence, Lyra promised herself that she would not be a coward again.

With that Lyra leaned back to observe the mystery woman as her arrogant mask was finally pinned back into place over the seething depths scarring her soul.
Spoiler: Fencing Practice

"En garde!"

With that her left thumb moved and steel flashed brilliantly as her rapier flew into the air from the sheath, only to be plucked out of the air at the height of its arc with her right hand with the casual grace paired with blinding speed of a trout snapping up a fly.

"Prêt!"

In the same motion her right foot stepped forward and her left back to place her in a picture-perfect fencing stance as her steel assumed a ready position for fencing.

"Allez!"

Charmwork and intricate enchantments flashed to life the length of her blade and along the hilt as she advanced with a precise series of slashes, parries, ripostes, feints, and lunges down the length of the Orangery floor as she dueled an imaginary and invisible foe.

Lyra's eyes widened as the pieces came together. The old-fashioned clothing from an era past, the contradiction between her apparent age and having a great-grandnephew who was a wizard, and the arrogant sublime skill that denoted decades of intensive and obsessive work to master that enchanted sword.

The Arashi women had told her folk tales of such entities, spirits of a weapon a century old. She had spoken to some of those spirits when Ian had shown her the storehouse of artifacts that the Potters had collected over the centuries. She had even wondered what the spirit of Ian's favorite sword might manifest as decades from now considering how he doted on Tsukiakari no Suzu.

Tsukumogami.

The rapier's spirit advanced toward her hiding spot close enough to touch and continued on in her swordplay as Lyra thought how to approach this poor girl.

The direct route was clearly out considering her anguished words of betrayal. Lyra suspected that revealing herself now would not end terribly well since she clearly was starting to go mad by speaking to people who were not here.

She certainly was not a Gamp considering there had been no recent deaths in the family.

Which meant that she must be a guest. And one thing Lyra Potter knew how to do was manage a conversation to get nuggets of information.

A rattle at the far door caused Lyra and the mystery woman to freeze.
Spoiler: An Unwelcome Interruption

Faintly from outside a young man's voice came. "Blast it all, their stupid servant must have locked the door! Don't worry my poppet, I'm sure the other door will be open so we can enjoy the blossoms in complete privacy. Come, let us go, since the course of true love awaits!"

A feminine giggle answered him.

Blast it all!

The mystery woman sprinted down the length of the hall as the footsteps outside circled the building. As she did, she waved her free hand in an intricate manner and chanted in a singsong foreign tongue that made Lyra think of the Far East while she sheathed her rapier.

With a click the doors unlocked themselves and she grabbed the shawl as she hastily unbuckled her swordbelt. Another pass of the hands and her clothing shimmered back to the mourning dress and hat that she had entered with.

Lyra watched as she headed outside as an apparent demure young lady carrying her shawl and shook her head. Then Lyra headed for the other end of the building. Opening the door, her eyes narrowed at the sight of the young man 'showing the Orangery' to the glassy-eyed daughter of the local mill owner.

"Mister Lestrange, what a pleasant surprise." Her voice was cool, crisp, and professional, revealing nothing of her feelings.

"Why Mrs. Potter, whatever brings you here?" He responded with frustrated desire under the mask of charm while he twirled his aspen wand with the insignia of the Silver Spears dueling club and multiple silver broken wand victory markings.

"I was reading there while taking in the fresh air and the flowers, sir. Alas, I fear that I must speak to my husband before changing for the afternoon's entertainments." she responded coolly. "Good day, Mr. Lestrange."

Lyra scowled as she heard the door to the Orangery lock behind the couple and her fist clenched.

She knew that she was an indifferent duelist at best but Ian might be able to....

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Feet softly moving along polished wood floors, Natsumi paused as she glanced out into the garden of the mansion... or perhaps palace, that she was in. The Kitsune could see many meanings in the garden's flowers as they rustled and whispered to her with blue ghost lights moving among them. At one end of the garden, Natsumi could see a burned home, one that she somehow knew to be of a Chinese style now centuries gone. Around it grew red spider lilies with other, wilted flowers such as red tsubaki, yellow tsubaki, white chrsythemums, and red roses. Sweet pea also grew around the burned home with other flowers of love, wilted slightly, were there.

Elsewhere in the garden though were flowers with... darker meanings.

Orange lilies grew everywhere in the garden past the invisible line dividing it from that which was around the burned home. So to were there many yellow roses as were blue asaji. But Natsumi noticed that many of them looked wilted, as if they grew fast, too fast, and were in the process of dying.

As to the house itself... it was separated from the garden by a moat, or perhaps a pond. Within it was an island made out of tumbled, broken stone. One that had two arrows sticking out of it. Around the island were lotuses floating serenely in the water. And upon the island were flowers poking out from the stone. Erica blossoms were alongside white poppies and kikyou blossoms. Here and there too, were primrose blossoms and bluebells.

Finally, lining along the building that she was in were other flowers such as white roses and white tsubaki.

Slowly, Natsumi craned her head up to look at the night sky above. There was a Full Moon that shone down upon everything, one that was originally as red as blood. But, slowly, over time it has begun to turn back to normal. When Natsumi had first visited, there was a mere shade back to normal that she had to really look to see. Now? She could see that more of the Moon had been cleared of the redness, seeming to shine brightly. And above that, she could see the Milky Way. But as always, one thing that caught her eye was one particular section where the stars seemed to be broken.

Broken, that was, except for two stars meeting in the middle of that broken place. The sight of which always made her heart jump in her chest. Part of her remembered that the break in the Milky Way did not always exist. But then, over the last few years it had formed with the two stars traveling from either side, eventually meeting in the middle.

Natsumi observed all this before shaking it off and resuming her travel down the darkened hallways. While she did not know how, she knew the way through the twisting corridors. And, as always, her feet brought her to one room. Coming to a stop, she could see that the paper of the door was painted. And in the paintings, duckweed floated serenely upon a pond, with a fox looking out upon it with nine tails.

Reaching up, the nearly fourteen year old Kitsune pushed open the door and made her way inside.

Upon entering the room, Natsumi pushed the door back closed before walking forwards towards a covered object. Almost as soon as she came to the object, her hand reached up of it's own regard and pulled the cloth away revealing a splendid mirror. Around the outside could be seen foxes and other imagery in gold. But so too were other images, such as the sight of an old monk before a large stone.

However, looking too much or hard always made Natsumi's eyes hurt. Mainly because the images shifted and changed in the flickering candle light. As if they were telling a story. But as always, the young Kitsune's eyes were drawn to something else.

That something else was of a Kitsune older than her. This was not someone on the cusp of womanhood like she sometimes saw herself. No, this was of a being well into womanhood, dressed in the finest clothes of a bygone era. Beautiful beyond measure... or she would be if not for things such as the expression upon her face, the rips and tears in her clothing alongside bloodstains. Or the blood that dripped endlessly from the blood soaked talons that were her hands. Behind her, eight tails weaved in the air where once there was nine. But other than that... nothing had changed.

For what felt like an eternity, Natsumi and the Kitsune in the mirror stared at each other. Eventually, the younger Kitsune swallowed, "You... you're Tamamo no Mae, aren't you." But if she had expected an answer, she did not get anything besides the "Reflection" tilting it's head in the same direction as her. However, Natsumi clenched her fists tightly and snarled, "WHY!? WHY DO YOU KEEP BRINGING ME BACK HERE?! WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THIS?!" She gestured around her, "ALL THIS!? WHAT IS IT THAT YOU ARE DOING AND WHAT IS THE MEANING!?"

Yet, still, there was no answer from the reflection, just a silent staring.

It was something that, if anything, got Natsumi all the more angry and frustrated. She had been having this dream for years, and yet there seemed to be no reason for it. A scowl on her face, she turned away, 'I should have known better-'

"You already know."

Just freezing, the Kitsune teenager felt a shiver run down her back. Cold sweat appeared on her skin and she shook slightly at the cold tone in the voice. Slowly, she turned back to the mirror and to her horror, discovered that the Kitsune's hand was outside the mirror right before it cupped her cheek. Warm blood, but not hers, dripped down her skin, "W-what..."

Tamamo just narrowed her eyes at her, "You already know the answer. But cannot accept it yet, or acknowledge it." Her eyes then lost their glare as she sighed, "Though that is to be expected." Pulling back her hand, the infamous Kitsune made a motion towards the door, "Go to him! Fly as if you were upon the wind for he is in danger!"

Confused at what was happening, Natsumi boggled, "H-him? Him who-" He eyes widened and her breath caught, "Harry-Chan..."

Due to her shock and dismay, she missed what Tamamo said next and only caught the last few words, "... he is known now..." Before she could ask, the Kitsune gave her a saddened look as she seemed to sink further into the mirror, disappearing into the depths even as the room around them began to fade, "Do what we failed to do and protect what is ours..."

Moments later, Natsumi woke up with a start and looked around. Her entire futon was utterly soaked with sweat as was she. Gulping in air, she stared with wide eyes before she threw off her blankets, followed by her sleeping yukata. The young Kitsune rushed towards her dresser and began to pull out her clothes and was putting them on when a sleepy, confused Haru opened her door, "Natsumi-Chan? What is going on here?"

Looking over at her and nearly tripping, Natsumi's expression brought her aunt up short, "Harry-Chan's in trouble, Oba-Chan! I need to get to Hogwarts right now!"

Quickly walking over, the older Kitsune placed her hand on Natsumi's shoulders, "Harry-San is in trouble? How? And when did you learn this?"

A blush dusted Natsumi's face as she took a deep breath. It sounded impossible inside her head, but she swallowed, "I... had a dream. The same one that I told you and Haha-ue about when I was younger. B-but this time she spoke to me."

Suddenly, she was turned so that she could face her aunt directly. Haru had an ashen expression on her face and her tone was that of utter seriousness, "She spoke to you, Natsumi-Chan? What did she say?!"

With a swallow, Natsumi told her exactly what had happened in the dream and what was said. All of which did not make Haru's expression any better. There was fear there as well, but not just for herself but Natsumi as well, which the teenaged Kitsune could understand. For a few moments, Haru had a thoughtful, though worried face before she gave a nod, "Okay, Natsumi-Chan. What we are going to do is I am going to contact the base and find out if Harry-San is alright-"

Mouth working for a moment, Natsumi shook her head, "B-but Oba-Chan, Harry-"

Placing a finger against her niece's lips, Haru shook her head, "Possibly alright, but we do not know that for certain. If he is in danger, we'll know of it soon enough." Adjusting her own Yukata, she took a deep breath, "In the meantime, I shall also be getting breakfast ready despite the hour."

Fifteen minutes later found the five tail shaking her head as she got off the phone with Nagato. Placing the phone down, she looked at Natsumi who was bouncing with a sigh, "Nagato-San does not know if anything is wrong with Harry-San, Natsumi-Chan. So chances are that he is fine."

Only shaking her head, Natsumi frowned, "No he's not, Oba-Chan! I... I can feel something is wrong."

With a sigh, Haru simply nodded and began to make herself some coffee and Natsumi her black tea, "I see. Well it is almost three in the morning, so I suppose that we shall just have to wait and see."

Despite wanting to ignore her elder and rush out the door for the base, the nearly fourteen year old sat down even as worry gnawed at her.
___________________________________________________________________

It was almost eight in the morning when Natsumi snapped awake from a doze as a wave of pure anger, rage, and hate spiritually passed her by. Part of her shivered due to said emotions... Yet, another part shivered because of what she knew it meant and whom it had come from, "Hoppou!"

Also snapping awake in her chair, Haru turned wide eyes to the base and then rushed over to the phone. Moments later, she punched in the number for a certain Battleship and waited until the phone was answered, "Nagato-San, it is Haru and-" Her eyes widened at the answer and she froze in place. Eventually, she just nodded and swallowed, "Yes, understood. Do not worry about us, though you know what is going to happen. Goodbye, Nagato-San."

Utterly lost in worry, Natsumi barely heard what her aunt was saying before her head snapped up to find Haru's hand on her shoulder, "O-Oba-Chan?"

Expression utterly serious, the older Kitsune grimaced, "Harry-San was just attacked, by Dementors. From what Nagato-San said, it had to have been at least as many as at that one game." Seeing Natsumi about to leap off the chair and run, Haru shook her head, "Harry-San is alright, they didn't manage to Kiss him. But he's unconscious in the infirmary right now and Nagato-San is going to get more information on what happened. Until then, you are going to stay right here with me, and we shall go with Hoshi-San as well as Siusan-San. Haruka-San might join us as well."

Eyes wide, Natsumi looked up at her, "B-but Oba-Chan..."

Turned away, Haru took a deep breath, "We have to wait for the others, Natsumi-Chan. Then we go as one group... in the meantime." Looking over her shoulder, the five tail's expression became gentle, "In the meantime, get packed for who knows how many days. If Harry-San is not coming home, I will call the school and let them know that you will be out of it for a week for a family emergency."

Shoulders slumping in relief, the teenager let out a breath that she did not know that she was even holding, "Hai, Oba-Chan." Rushing over, she gave her aunt a hug before rushing out, "I'll go and get ready now."

Only nodding, Haru gave a brief, small smile before turning back to the window with her expression becoming worried as she mulled over what had happened...

It was several hours later that found Natsumi running ahead of the other Kitsune and one Irish Fox spirit. Due to all the time that she had spent in Hogwarts alongside Harry, she knew her way to the Hospital Wing. Around her the floors and paintings blurred. So worried was Natsumi, that she did not notice that upon hitting the Grand Staircase, that she was at the bottom and then at the floor needed within a few seconds, having leapt forwards.

Behind her, Hoshi's eyes widened a touch at seeing Natsumi blur as she rocketed up the stairs.

However, none of that matter to Natsumi. Because in the end, as she reached the doors to the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, only one thing mattered. Skidding to a stop, she reached out to the door... and opened it.

Inside the Hospital Wing, early morning sunlight streamed in through the windows. Any conversation stopped as they noticed the panting teenager there who was looking around. That was, until her eyes fell upon another teen laying in a bed. Harry blinked some in surprise, "Natsumi-Chan?"

One step, and then two steps from the Kitsune were followed by many more as tears ran from her eyes. This time, she didn't skid to a halt, but leapt onto the bed and hugged Harry tightly, "Harry-Chan..." After everything, her worry only abated at feeling his warm body against hers, feeling his arms wrap around her shoulders, "Harry-Chan..." The familiar scent that tickled her nose made Natsumi more calm as she realized that her worst fears were not realized, "Harry-Chan... you're alright."

Hugging her back, Harry could only nod, "Hai, I am..." Nuzzling her head, he gave a sigh, "Sorry that I scared you, Natsumi-Chan. I didn't mean to."

For a few moments, the two teens looked each other in the eye as Natsumi brought up her hand... and brought it down on his head in a bop, "Baka! I know that you didn't mean to!" Tightening the hug, she sniffled a little, "You never mean to... but you still made me worry about you. So you better be ready for me to hang around until I am sure that you won't get into any trouble!"

For a few moments, Harry blinked before smiling and closing his eyes as he leaned his head against Natsumi's, "Understood, Natsumi-Chan... Understood..."

 

[darthcourt10]

Shinr



This is a slightly revised version of my old snip that introduced the then nameless Fukai Akiko to better work with latter developments, and make her plan slightly less shortsighted/suicidal in her view.

Of course, her shortsightedness in the initial snippet is now burned into canon, so you may consider this one non-canon.

----

Summer 2014

Yokosuka Naval Base, Nagato Residence

It was well past midnight, with the family of a battleship-turned-woman, a child-like incarnation of drowned children, a dragon goddess in training, two sentient swords and a fourteen-year old mortal wizard were all in deep slumber.

An unnatural slumber forced by complex magic.

And in the room where Harry slept, a tall feminine figure with fox ears and nine fox tails appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

Spoiler: Kyuubi*

If one knowledgeable in youkai politics were to look at her, they would recognize the Nine-Tailed Kitsune as Fukai Akiko, 8th Head of the Fukai Clan, the traditional staunch enemies of the Ono Family.

Those knowledgeable in spiritual magic would also note that it was not her true self that was present in the room, but her spiritual projection, Akiko's true body sitting in a meditating pose in the ritual chamber, deep within the main Fukai Clan compound in the mountains on the other side of Japan.

Regardless, one way or another Akiko was here, trespassing on the Naval Base, and with her own unparalleled mastery of projection arts, stealth techniques and many favors spent to create this chance, she was poised to break the Ono's recent rise of fortunes.

And what better way to hurt her enemies, than by stealing what they hold dear and making it truly hers?

Harry Potter, the so called Boy-Who-Lived.

The Boy, who for the last four years was making a name for himself on his own merits and effort, beyond the deed of killing the Dark Lord that was most certainly a fluke or work of others.

The Boy whom fate was generous enough to gift many friends and connections, powerful allies willing to aid him, even die for him.

The Boy who many predict will become a force to reckoned in the future, be it in politics or war.

The Boy who was at ground zero of that Bunker debacle and came out of it alive and with honors.

The Boy who most certainly will marry into the Ono Clan, further aligning them with the Rising Star of the Potter.

The Boy who right now was sleeping without a care in the world, completely vulnerable to her mercies.

She had to admit, for a gaijin he was very cute, with signs of eventual handsomeness already appearing. And if the pictures of his father (and the absolutely lurid rumors about his ancestors, John and Ian Potters most notable among them) were any indication, in four years he would become a most desirable of consorts.

Oh yes, he may be still young for her right now, but until he matures she will raise him, re-educate him, indoctrinate him, until he would be completely unable to live without her.

And it will be so easy, for all the boy's external confident facade, the vixen in her nine centuries of experience saw for what he truly was like inside.

An anxious child who sought validation and recognition from others like a parched man in the desert, a scared boy who feared disappointing others for a slightest mistake.

And most of all, he was a broken teenager who craved affection to mend his withered heart and soul.

The most malleable clay one could wish for.

Of course, the Ono would not let his kidnapping stand unpunished, but she was well prepared.

The recent string of secession of magical provinces from Tokyo, along with Bunker business ruffling many feathers, led to many people becoming more... open-minded in their fear of future and desperation, one result of which of course was her projecting right now, but more importantly it accelerated her plans in many other ways.

Such as taking over Tokyo Diet as its puppet master.

With the windfall of fortune that the recent events have brought her, making that a reality was now a matter of when, and unlike the foolish fossils of the Diet she had the concrete plan, the tight vision and the solid means to right the drifting ship.

Speaking of which, the No-Maj allies of the Ono, the shipgirls in particular, would not be the problem, for she plans to give the mundane government what it wants.

The way to integrate the Magical Japan to them without costing No-Maj lives, with her at the helm of course.

What of Kyoto, who position themselves on the same platform? She will make them irrelevant by 'outbidding' them with methods they refuse to consider, and bring back the wayward provinces back into the fold with promises and assurances that only a Youkai shadow minister could make, probably with some required backstabbing.

For at the end of the day, she truly doubts that the No-Maj government will care how much purging there will be, as long as it doesn't spill over to the 'real' people they care about and while she still 'answers' to them.

And this will leave the Mundane Government with a choice: side with her for the sake of millions, or throw away a chance of a relatively peaceful unification for the sake of one boy.

The choice was obvious, and so with the shipgirls leashed (and by extension the pet Abyssals, in worst case they will be put down) and with Kyoto rendered powerless, the Ono Clan and their few allies will stand alone to rescue the boy.

And they will fail.

She will gift the bitch Chiyo to her least disloyal sons, who in place of her dear late husband Kazuo will breed the Ono matriarch with Fukai scions.

She will personally behead that bastard Kensuke's wife and son in front of him, before making him join them, preferably with the same damned shapeshifting blade that took her husband's head.

His youngest children, Asuka and Rei, will be thoroughly re-educated to serve the Fukai, to make them hate anything Ono stood for in general and their father in particular.

She will kill Haru slowly as payback for protecting Sumiko, and speaking of the white-haired bastard there is a chance they might rope her in for the rescue attempt, so she will need to invent some novel form of torture just for her.

And the patriarch Naoki will be forced to bear witness to all of above, the desecration of his Clan, before getting his turn.

As for Natsumi...

She will have a special front-seat view to Akiko's spending time with Harry, gently teaching him all that is right, smoothly turning his loyalty from the Ono to her, making him fall in love with the superior Nine-Tail instead of mere Two.

And when finally, when the boy will become of age, the Ono brat will be made to watch a spectacle where he will willingly surrender himself to Akiko, her former love discarding her in most carnal fashion.

As she fantasized about the pain of her enemies and her own pleasure, she reached for the sleeping youth with her long-nailed hands.

But then, as if a bucket of ice-cold water was poured on her, her fantasies were replaced with primordial fear.

Spoiler: Fear**

Nails frozen inches from the boys head, her body frozen in terror, she looked with her barely moving eyes at the corner of the room.

There stood an indistinct tall figure, who was more of a black mass of shadowy smoke than something solid, their very presence threatening to consume their surroundings.

What was it? A Guard that was capable of fear magic? Some kind of a creature bound to the house as security? Or a bigger fish that also wanted Harry as a prey?

She wasn't willing to stick any longer to find out, so she forcibly cut off the projection, her mind instantly back in her real body.

But any kind of relief died before it even had a chance to form, for in the corner of the ritual chamber, stood the same shadowy being.

With an incredible amount of will, she snapped out of terror-induced stupor and turned around for the exit, to call for help.

Only to stop cold as the being stood right in front of her, as if it was always there from the beginning.

Now that it was close, her fear-paralyzed mind noted that it was a female kitsune, with nine tails just like her.

Wait, the being only had two.

Or was it eight?

Or even Ten, as foolish as it sounded?

But the Kitsune's mind did not spare any more attention to the shifting number of tails, for it had more urgent things to do.

Such as being petrified by those piercing, cold and yet burning eyes, so full of all-consuming hatred that looked both at her with sheer disgust and through her as if she wasn't there.

And yet, she felt that those eyes were familiar.

It was a moment too late when Akiko finally noticed that the oppressive being grabbed her by the face with a claw-like hand.

The sentries who stood guard outside the ritual chamber heard a short soul-crushing scream before it was abruptly cut off by an explosion.

When they barged in, every surface of the chamber was covered in dripping blood.

Back in Harry's room, the shadowy being was still there as if it never chased after the Kitsune, and it looked down at the still sleeping boy.

Spoiler: Love**

In a heartbeat, the malice faded away, replaced by longing. The figure's chaotic form stabilized, if still wreathed in shadows.

And just like the intruding Kitsune before, she too reached out for the boy.

Right as she was about to reach him, she stopped and clenched her fist in inner struggle, shaking her head in self-derision.

But just as she started to withdraw her hand, Harry grasped it.

Surprised, the being nearly destabilized out of shock, staring at the still sleeping Harry, her body shaking with emotion.

And out of the void where her eyes were supposed to be, tears streaked over her cheeks.

Gently, she pried her hand from the boy's grip, who for a moment seemed distraught, before calming down.

Spending a few more moments watching over him, the being then vanished in an instant, as if she was never there.

----

* Azur Lane Akagi in her Plum and Snow costume if the image doesn't work. Obviously without any Naval bits.

** If Youtube takes them down, the tracks are from F.E.A.R.: Intro (the one that is 2 minutes long) and Alma.










Original Version of Chapter

Spoiler

Inspired by the Dream sequence in the last main story snippet along with recent jaunt with a certain game, here is snippet in which a somewhat unorthodox nature of the reincarnation link between Tamamo-no-Mae and Natsumi resulted in some unorthodox side-effects. Obviously non-canon.

----

Summer 2014

Yokosuka Naval Base, Nagato Residence

It was well past midnight, with the family of a battleship-turned-woman, a child-like incarnation of drowned children, a dragon goddess in training, two sentient swords and a fourteen-year old mortal wizard were all in deep slumber.

An unnatural slumber forced by complex magic.

And in the room where Harry slept, a tall feminine figure with fox ears and nine fox tails appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
Spoiler: Kyuubi*

If one knowledgeable in youkai politics were to look at her, they would recognize the Nine-Tailed Kitsune as a Head of a Clan who were staunch enemies of the Ono Family.

Those knowledgeable in spiritual magic would also note that it was not her true self that was present in the room, but her spiritual projection, her true body sitting in a meditating pose in the ritual chamber, deep within her Clan compound in the mountains on the other side of Japan.

Regardless, one way or another she was here, trespassing on the Naval Base, and with her own unparalleled mastery of projection arts, stealth techniques and many favors spent to create this chance, she was poised to break the Ono's recent rise of fortunes.

And what better way to hurt her enemies, than by stealing what they hold dear and making it truly hers?

Harry Potter, the so called Boy-Who-Lived.

The Boy, who for the last four years was making a name for himself on his own merits and effort, beyond the deed of killing the Dark Lord that was most certainly a fluke or work of others.

The Boy whom fate was generous enough to gift many friends and connections, powerful allies willing to aid him, even die for him.

The Boy who many predict will become a force to reckoned in the future, be it in politics or war.

The Boy who most certainly will marry into the Ono Clan, further aligning them with the Rising Star of the Potter.

The Boy who right now was sleeping without a care in the world, completely vulnerable to her mercies.

She had to admit, for a gaijin he was very cute, with signs of eventual handsomeness already appearing. And if the pictures of his father and ancestors (and the absolutely lurid rumors about Ian Potter) were any indication, in four years he would become a most desirable of consorts.

Oh yes, he may be still young for her right now, but until he matures she will raise him, re-educate him, indoctrinate him, until he would be completely unable to live without her.

And during that time, the Onos would no doubt try to rescue the boy, their desperation blinding them to obvious threats for which they will pay dearly, chained in dungeon to be humiliated.

And when finally, when the boy will become of age, she will drag them out to watch a spectacle where he will willingly surrender himself to her, with that despairing child getting the front seat as her former love discarded her in most carnal fashion.

As she fantasized about the pain of her enemies and her own pleasure, she reached for the sleeping youth with her long-nailed hands.

But then, as if a bucket of ice-cold water was poured on her, her fantasies were replaced with primordial fear.
Spoiler: Fear**

Nails frozen inches from the boys head, her body frozen in terror, she looked with her barely moving eyes at the corner of the room.

There stood an indistinct tall figure, who was more of a black mass of shadowy smoke than something solid, their very presence threatening to consume their surroundings.

What was it? A Guard that was capable of fear magic? Some kind of creature bound to the house as security? Or bigger fish that also wanted Harry as a prey?

She wasn't willing to stick any longer to find out, so she forcibly cut off the projection, her mind instantly back in her real body.

But any kind of relief died before it even had a chance to form, for in the corner of the ritual chamber, stood the same shadowy being.

With an incredible amount of will, she snapped out of terror-induced stupor and turned around for the exit, to call for help.

Only to stop cold as the being stood right in front of her, as if it was always there from the beginning.

Now that it was close, her fear-paralyzed mind noted that it was a female kitsune, with nine tails just like her.

Wait, the being only had two.

Or was it eight?

Or even Ten, as foolish as it sounded?

But the Kitsune's mind did not spare any more attention to the shifting number of tails, for it had more urgent things to do.

Such as being petrified by those piercing, cold and yet burning eyes, so full of all-consuming hatred that both looked at her with sheer disgust and through her as if she wasn't there.

It was a moment too late when she finally noticed that the oppressive being placed its hand on her shoulder.

The sentries who stood guard outside the ritual chamber heard a short soul-crushing scream before it was abruptly cut off by an explosion.

When they barged in, every surface of the chamber was covered in dripping blood.

Back in Harry's room, the shadowy being was still there as if it never chased after the Kitsune, and it looked down at the still sleeping boy.
Spoiler: Love**

In a heartbeat, the malice faded away, replaced by longing. The figure's chaotic form stabilized, if still wreathed in shadows.

And just like the intruding Kitsune before, she too reached out for the boy.

But just right as she was about to reach him, she clenched her fist in inner struggle before withdrawing it, shaking her head at herself.

He is not him, nor he is yours.

Spending a few more moments watching over him, the being then vanished in an instant, as if it was never there.

----

* Azur Lane Akagi in her Plum and Snow costume if the image doesn't work. Obviously without any Naval bits.

** If Youtube takes them down, the tracks are from F.E.A.R.: Intro (the one that is 2 minutes long) and Alma.

 

[darthcourt10]

Dances in Shadows

So...I'm not really happy with this one, But it's not getting any better just sitting on my hard drive.

------------------------------------------
Dungeons and Dragons and Shipgirls
------------------------------------------
Part 4. Grime and PUNishment
------------------------------------------


"As you descend beneath the graveyard a slight whiff of something off-putting hits your nose. Opening the door at the end of the tunnel you come across a small room. Broken candelabras litter the remains of tattered and worm eaten red carpet. In the center of the the room rests an open wooden casket."

Picking up her dice Naka looks down at the miniature room Ooyodo's crewmen have drawn.

"I'm going to search the casket"

"Alright go ahead and roll for me....Searching the casket you find that it may have at one point been adorned with metal trim, before someone crudely pried it off."


Further down the table Nagato offered Boo a sunflower seed while one of her crewmen organized what was most definitely NOT an overboard collection of crochet hamster costumes.

Between her and Naka sat Tenryuu. Small wisps of smoke rose from the edges of her smirking lips. A glass of fire whiskey in her hand as she looked over the map on the table.

At the far end of the table slouched Junyou a bottle of Daiginjo on the floor next to her.

It had been a couple weeks since their last session, schedules and events preventing them from getting together sooner.

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

"As you enter the room the smell of waste is overpowering, From across the room a vile mass of bubbling feces and gurgling fluids rises up out of a hole in the ground. With a loud sucking noise the disgusting mass begins to slowly make its way towards you. Roll for initiative."

Down on the table one of the Nagato's fairies walked onto the map with his head hung low, a pair of index cards hanging from his neck bearing coiled drawings of poop. Across the map his stand in for the session snickered under his hood.

"Harriet casts magic missile on this CRAPPY looking monster."

"Kana will take a five foot step to her right and fire off a crossbow bolt from a less SHITTY position."

"Brunhilde will ready a healing spell and hold action until someone needs it. Wouldn't want the party to WIPE after all. "

"Yeah that would fucking STINK."

Down on the table the crewman sighed as he continued to regret his past actions.


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


"From inside the coffin rises a skeleton, its pristine white bones adorned in the tattered remains of a white dress."

"I seduce her!"


Eye narrowing as she looked over her glasses Ooyodo stares daggers in Tenryuu's direction.

"You...SEDUCE...the undead skeleton?"

"Yeah. YOUR the one who told me not to solve every problem with violence. Besides, you described her as clean and pristine so Throm can totally BONE her."


As Ooyodo pinched her nose with a sigh she was caught off guard by someone absentmindedly joined in.

"It could work. Its probably the most action shes seen sense that time she got NAILED in her coffin."

The words she had spoken finally registering in her mind, Nagato's back stiffened before slumping in defeat.

"....God dammit Lilly"








---------------------------------
Elsewhere
---------------------------------


"Before you stand a six foot tall misshapen humanoid. Its doughy skin appears to be made entirely out of pastry. A few reddish smears marring its well baked crust. As the smells of tomatoes and cheese hit your nose it raises its fists with a roar and begins lumbering towards you."

Across from Niiyodo the duckies gave an involuntarily gulp, their shaking hands reaching for their dice.

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

Pack Dynamics VII

Taura Plum Blossom Park, Yokosuka
Spoiler: Under The Blossoms

Moriko snuggled Hachiko closer to her and sighed happily at the sight of the waving cherry blossoms. Her scarred and callused fingers interlaced with his equally work-hardened fingers and she gave an inadvertent low growl of happiness.

"Hachiko-chan?" She whispered quietly.

"What is it, Moriko-chan?" he murmured back.

She took a deep breath. "I..." Her cheeks heated as she spoke hesitantly, "I've never even kissed a boy before. Ever."

She then laughed quietly, "Look at me, all rough and tumble and a fighter and having to be the big sister for my pack and I'm terrified to admit it. What we have, it's wonderful and scary, but I...want it. Want you."

He squeezed her hand reassuringly and gently, "If it helps..." His voice hushed. "I never kissed a girl either. I was always the last one picked for sports at school, the girly one, and I..."

His voice broke slightly and she felt him tense as he glanced over to where Aki was working on a puzzle box that Suzume had brought along to exercise her mind. He whispered with pain in his voice, "Mother and Father's marriage was not a happy one. Aki doesn't know, he was thankfully too young, but Father... had other women. That... hurt Mother...."

Her arms flexed slightly to protect him, to show that she was there for him. Tears trickled down his cheeks. "I promised myself that I wouldn't be like Father. That I would never hurt a girl that way. But in school, I was... afraid that I would make mistakes and go down the same path. So I... didn't."

She cupped his cheek with her free hand and turned his head to look into her vulnerable eyes. As she was swallowed by the wonderful warm blue depths of his gaze, her hand removed his glasses and she leaned in.

She whispered as their foreheads touched, staring into his eyes. "I didn't either. I never found the person I could reveal myself to. The person who I could trust myself to before now."

He whispered back as their fingers interlaced and the sea breeze ruffled their hair. "And I never found someone who I could devote myself to body, heart, and soul. Before now."

In the distance, Uzume smiled happily at the threads linking two hearts beating as one and adjusted her camera. Sachiko readied her phone. Kiho leaned back and glanced over at the young folks and recorded the moment with her Omnioculars.

A sudden gust blew the first falling sakura petals like pink snow from the trees. Aki's face lit up in an ear to ear smile as his efforts caused the lid of the puzzle box to pop off at last. Suzume beamed at the young boy's triumph and joy.

Moriko and Hachiko's lips touched in an endless instant of bliss as the cherry blossom petals fell gently around them and the sun illuminated them as a ray broke through the clouds.

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

Dove at a Dinner Party: Part The Fourth

A Comedy of Ill-Manners, Shocking French 'Customs', and a Fire in the Rubbish Skip

Passel House

Saturday, May 13th, 1899

Lyra Potter walked into the library and took a seat on a sofa next to a window after grabbing a book at random from the shelves. Clearly some serious thinking needed to be done regarding the mystery spirit. Reading would keep her from being disturbed while she worked on this puzzle presented to herself.

How do I act to save that poor spirit before it is too late?

She smiled at the female House-elf who popped into appearance with the requested cup of hot green tea. "Thank you kindly, and can you please notify me once my husband is free from his social obligations so that I may join him?"

"Of courses!" With that the elf vanished and Lyra hummed as she absently turned pages to keep her hands busy between sipping her tea as she thought about the mystery tsukumogami.

Hm, well if all else failed, she could perhaps have Ian work his bedroom magic on her. Any girl who would be suicidal after a night with him was a lost cause anyway.

A firm footstep sounded at the door and her eyes raised to see the blonde tsukumogami in the library door.

Well well, opportunity knocks. And here I thought I would have to take the indirect approach. Welcome to my parlor, said the Lyra to the fly.

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

Shortly before:

Colombe ignored the shocked disapproval from the ghost in her room as she finished oiling and honing herself after her little bout of private fencing practice in the Orangery. If the spirit did not like her self-maintenance, she could go play with herself until she removed the poker jammed up her ass.
Spoiler: Memories of a Masamune

Briefly her eyes misted up at the memory of her saying those words to a beautiful oriental woman her apparent age dressed in a white robe with a red skirt as blue-green eyes opened wide in her shocked face. Her lips curled in a smug smile at the memory of her verbal barb hitting home as Meekoh Punchable Face spluttered in shock and disbelief before drawing herself to demand satisfaction as her face twisted in incandescent rage.

Anger is a strong servant but a poor master. She was good, even very good, but no warrior could fight herself and her foe at the same time. Too much time in the salle d'armes, not enough time in the field getting into real fights.

She reflexively squashed the little spike of guilt and shame caused by her knowledge that she had dishonored her Papa's teachings of nobility with her words to provoke that fight.

Besides, that sword spirit had it coming, arrogant little stuck-up prissy bitch that she was with that self-righteous serene smirk, she told herself once again.

She shook her head as her eyes watered.

She supposed that in an ideal world she would have not provoked that fight. Been wiser. Said different words that would have let her find her father. Let her get justice for her mother's death and being abandoned as unwanted by her true father. Been able to defeat that old monk at the temple in Japan who had had her swear never to return and find her father until the children of the Abyss joined hands with humans.

Not failed. Not disappointed Papa with one more of her many many failures. Not...allowed Hippolyte to do what he did.

With an effort of will, she somehow jerked her thoughts out of the spiral that they were in. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with a scowl as she sheathed herself with a convulsive jerk of her wrist. Sitting here and brooding would accomplish nothing productive. Perhaps there was some atlas of Africa or scrap of information in the library that she could find to help cleanse her stained and ruined honor in the blood of those who had corrupted it.

Unseen by her, as she turned to go, the dove engraving on her true body that was the inheritance from her father Norimune began to glow with a gentle white light where it lay on her bed.

----------------------------------
Spoiler: Lyra and Colombe

Colombe froze in the door of the library.

Sitting in a velvet-upholstered sofa facing her was a slender witch with a peaches and cream complexion. Her ruby-red dress flashed in the sunlight from the nearby window and her wavy midnight-black hair absorbed it. As she closed the book that she had been reading, she sat upright like a queen on her throne. One aristocratic eyebrow rose in unspoken invitation over a green eye that sparkled with mischief. Her oval face lit up in a warm smile as she spoke in a husky soprano. "Why hello there, Miss."

Colombe automatically curtsied in introduction as her brain whirled. Silently she cursed her hormones, because she most definitely had a 'type' for the girls who attracted her the most.

Studious smart brunettes.

Such as the young lady who she had just caught reading the tenth book (Concerning Happiness and Pleasure) of Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics in the original Greek.

"Enchanté, Miss." She responded absently while trying to cudgel her hormones into behaving. Four and a half decades of celibacy were taking their toll on... ye gods, had it been that long since she saved that huli jing fox-spirit scholar's daughter who was wrongly accused of stealing men's genitals with her magic.

Unconsciously her lips curled up in a fond, smug smile of the memory of Yüying and her fighting back to back against those Tiān Dì Huì enforcers in Kowloon as they battled to the ship that she had purchased passage on to get Yüying out of China.

She blinked and returned to the here and now from memories of a brighter past, before her failures manifested themselves. "Ah... I am Mademoiselle Colombe Du Chasteler, late of Belgium."

The woman's smile grew slightly crooked as mischief danced in her eyes. "A pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle du Chasteler, I am Mrs. Lyra Potter."

Colombe focused. She did not look like the Potters that she had known. "Ah, I must ask which branch?"

Lyra smiled and patted the sofa next to her. "The English Potters; I married in from the Blacks. My husband Ian is detained with the boys dealing with head-of-family business. Correct me if I am wrong, but the Du Chasteler family is...?"

Colombe took the invitation to sit. "A French Malfoy collateral. Papa was a Squib whose family arranged him to take the name of the family descended from the Dukes of Lorriane."

Lyra's smile widened and her eyes sparkled with unfeigned interest. "Fascinating. And good for them, since I can see that he was a man of excellent noble character to have a daughter such as you. You certainly inherited the Malfoy hair of gold."

Colombe flinched minutely and automatically at the memory of her ancestry.

Of how she had disappointed Papa.

She did not notice the equally minute narrowing of Lyra's eyes. "So, Mademoiselle du Chasteler, I would love to hear about your Papa."

Colombe absently responded, "Please, Call me Colombe. All this Miss this and Mister that verbal jousting gets tedious and is frankly stupid."

A blonde ghost covered her mouth in shock at the statement as she listened to the ladies.

Lyra's eyes twinkled, "I must agree now that you argued so persuasively Colombe. I am Lyra to my friends and intimates."

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Eventually, the newcomers calmed down enough once they saw that Harry was both alright and in good health. Granted, Harry had a moment of amusement when, after he stated yet again that he did not go looking for trouble, Siusan muttered a bit, "No, Child. But the Potter blood calls out to it like a fox hunting an injured swan, it does."

Thankfully, that had gotten a good laugh from everyone there and actually improved the mood. Which is what found Harry currently laying back with Natsumi cuddling close to him. Something that was equal parts a fact that he enjoyed and was also distracting. The second bit having caused Harry to once more internally curse puberty as he was not the only one who had grown up a bit more in the months since Christmas vacation.

In order to distract himself from such thoughts, despite how they kept surfacing, Harry had gotten a laptop out. To combat the anti-lightning wards around the castle that would have drained the battery though, a cord ran from said laptop and plugged into a smaller cord that snaked down Hoppou's arm from inside her dress.

He had given her an extremely odd look when she had proudly declared that she now knew why Abyssals had belly buttons.

Just shaking off that thought, because it was not one he really wanted to consider the specifics of, Harry instead focused on what was currently on his laptop. Shifting a bit beside him, Natsumi placed her head on his shoulder with a small smile, "Moderating the SGO forums?"

Softly snorting, the thirteen year old wizard shook his head, "Hai, I am. In fact, I'm banning another one of Copper's sockpuppets. Honestly, the guy just does not give up."

From where she laid, Natsumi cocked her head and blinked, "Uh, Laurion? What? How does that mean that it is Copper?"

About to answer, Harry was interrupted as Sirius spoke up, "Uh, Copper? Sockpuppet? I mean, there was that time that a drunk Remus turned some of our socks into sockpuppets like Lily suggested, but... I think you mean something else?"

Turning to him, the teenaged wizard nodded, "Yeah, long story short? I am a Moderator on an online forum called 'Shipgirls Online..." Pausing, Harry frowned, "Um, you know what forums and moderators are, right?"

Lightly laughing, Sirius grinned, "Actually, I do. It was something that I talked with one of the guards back at Redstone about." He then frowned, "Just... confused about what you are talking about..."

With a hum, Harry frowned before making a motion with his finger, "Well, as a Moderator, one of my duties is to, well, Moderate. If someone is mucking up the forum with bad behavior and such like trolling too hard, my job is to infract them. And if they're too bad, either ban them temporarily or permanently. Some people don't like that and decide to get around it with sockpuppets. We usually catch them because they act the same way that they did before getting banned, so we ban them again. Sockpuppeting is usually a permabanable offence anyways."

Eyebrow raised, Nagato looked at him with a bemused look, "Considering Aso-San has continuously made sockpuppets, but that the newest one is left alone..."

Hoppou raised her finger at that, "But she's changed and no longer posts like she did."

Patting her on the head, Harry grinned, "Hoppou's right. If they do change their ways? Well... Mission Bloody Accomplished as far as us Moderators are concerned."

Lips twitching, the lone animagus of the group shook his head before frowning as he remembered how the conversation started, "Okay, makes sense. But... what is this thing about someone named Copper?"

At this, Harry actually sighed and shook his head, "He is... someone infamous. Because we've banned him so many times. Not just because of his general bad behavior, but because he continuously makes sockpuppets. And all of them have to do with the metal copper in some way. Every. Single. One."

That got a slow, disbelieving blink from Sirius as well as flat toned word, "What."

Only pinching his nose, Harry softly snorted before waving one hand in the air, "I know, trust me, I know. He is one of the bigger annoyances with the forums because he keeps going for more and more obscure references to Copper. I mean, at first it was amusing when he started using other languages and such. Somewhat easy, especially with how many shipgirls are from different countries. I mean, the Spanish shipgirls were amused when they caught him using the account name of Kobrea, because that was Basque for Copper. Or the American shipgirls when he used a Navajo word for the metal. But it has become worse and worse as time has gone on and this has been going on for about five years now."

Eyebrow slowly raising, his Godfather glanced at the others there who were there, "I see..."

Somewhat bemused, Haruka tilted her head a bit, "How bad are we talking about, Harry? If I may ask?"

With a shrug, Harry rolled his eyes, "Pretty bad. Banned him about two months back because a South African sailor whose been on the forums recognized a word he used that was from Xhosa as being their word for copper. Most of us were taking bets on what language he would use next. Turns out, he used a place."

Nagato blinked and turned to him, "Laurion is a place?"

Face in his hands, Harry nodded some, "As a matter of fact, it is. It was the female Greek Shipgirl Admiral, Aetós, who sent a PM to us Mods about it. Just looked it up to confirm and the IP matches Copper's, though he's routed it at least twice. But Laurion is a place in Greece that was used for copper mining."

Mouth working, the Battleship eventually settled for a sigh and shaking her head. Haru, meanwhile, pinched her nose, "I... am at a loss for words at this. I just have to question why someone would go through all this trouble."

Throwing his hands into the air, Harry snorted, "I do not know. He is like a bloody cheap, cruddy knock off version of the Riddler from Batman. How and why he continuously comes up with these really odd references to copper, I do not know." A pout grew on his face, "It also means that I lost the bet that he would use Klingon."

At that, Hoshi coughed into her drink before giving him a look, "Klingon, Harry-San? Really?"

Expression of one who is nearly done, Harry rolled his eyes, "He already used fictional languages more than once. No, do not ask about why that was, because I don't know. He is really dedicated to it though."

Deciding that trying to probe the mind of someone like that was not the best idea, not least because he was utterly lost as to where to begin, Sirius cleared his throat some, "Quite... well, leaving that aside, do you have any clue what you are doing after this?"

Harry frowned at that before turning to his adoptive mother, "Mum?"

The shipgirl jerked a bit as she was brought out of her thoughts about the oddities of some people before shaking her head, "Sorry about that, Harry." Getting a nod, Nagato gave a small smile, "I've spoken with Dumbledore and... there's no issue with you coming home early and to have your Easter holidays extended. From what he tells me, you're actually ahead in your classes at this point. And also that no one would blame you if you were to head home early due to what happened." While her tone was mild and dry, there was anger there, "After all, anyone would after being attacked by a hundred Dementors."

Much to Harry's amusement, he could feel Natsumi's tails wag a bit at that as the Kitsune smiled, "That's actually great news!" Turning, her smile grew, "That means that we'll be able to go to Hanami together!"

Eyebrows furrowing, Sirius frowned, "Han-a-mi? What is that now?"

Lips curled into a smile, Harry turned to him, "Viewing cherry blossoms and sometimes plum blossoms on the trees. It is a popular past time back in Japan."

For several moments, the older wizard considered that before chuckling with a smile and nodding, "Okay, I think that I know what you mean. I read about it once in an old letter from your Great-grandmother to her brother from Japan. She mentioned going to look at the blossoms and stuff." He then gave a small shrug, "I... don't really see the point myself, but I've been in prison for years now."

Considering for a few moments, Nagato gave a nod, "Hanami is to observe the beauty of both nature and that the blossoms themselves serve as a metaphor of life. How it is both beautiful, and yet over far too soon." A small smile appeared on her face, "If you wish to go to one, just ask, that is all you need to do."

Scratching his chin, Sirius considered a few things before glancing to his wife who was being looked over by Madam Pomfrey, much to the Abyssal's amusement. As if knowing his eyes were on her, Isley turned and gave a small nod before turning back to the conversation with the school Medi-witch. Turning towards them, Sirius gave a small shrug, "I don't see a problem, and might take you up on that."

Hands behind his head, Harry grinned, "That sounds great, Sirius." A thoughtful look crossed his face, "Though... before we leave I need to check up on some things with the teachers and such. Just to make sure that I have everything ready and there's nothing that I need to do."

A mock disappointed look on his face, the Marauder shook his head and tutted, "What shame, you have become a bookworm just like your Mother." Fake shivering, Sirius groaned, "How awful... no slacking in your schoolwork to look cool or anything."

That only got him a laugh though from Harry. Feeling a poke in his side though, he blinked and turned to find Natsumi looking up at him. Now having his attention, she gave him a huff, "Not without me, Harry-Chan. I am not letting you out of my sight until at least we get home."

Moments later, a deep blush covered her face as Harry kissed her on the forehead, "Wouldn't dream of it, Natsumi-Chan."

Still blushing deeply, Natsumi turned her head away and mumbled something under her breath.

 

[darthcourt10]

K9Thefirst1

FINALLY! Sorry this took so long folks. Lots of details and my own procrastination and putting my efforts in favor of school kept this from being completed in time for Harry to move the story into the new year. Anyway...
Spoiler: At long last...




The Die Is Cast

5:34 PM, December 31st, 2013, The Great Meteor Seamount

The Princess Porta Abysseum Atlantia, holding court in her palace, was experiencing a new sensation, and she wasn't sure what to call it. Her gut felt tight, and cold, as if a rod had attached itself to her innards, and was coiling them up like a fork in pasta. Though she found it difficult to breath, Her Highness was able to keep it concealed behind her queenly mask. Holding court helped at least. She simply needed to go over the series of events that had led to the current moment.

Tantala recited to her a section of her Epic that she had finished revising. Rigar had shown her the latest designs for a new palace she wanted to build once the seamount became an island. And then, Canut was kneeling before her, with her latest report on training the fleet in hand-to-hand.

After the battleship demon's… lapse in good sense the previous year, Porta was quite certain that she would need to execute the foreign Abyssal. But the chastisement, and whatever it was that resulted in her losing her ability to actually fight, had done leagues of good as far as the Princess was concerned. Whereas before she was all but underfoot and in the way in trying to be helpful, Canut now focused her energies on where they were required – building an armory of melee weapons, and training the fleet in their use.

"We are pleased to hear of such progress Canut," the princess said, "We trust that in time of conflict, they shall be able to carry Us to victory?"

"Verily, your Highness. While those under my tutelage may not be masters, they can at least swing without harming themselves or their sisters in arms, and that alone will be to their advantage should they find themselves too close to the enemy to fight with their guns or torpedoes. Precisely as you requested. While they all have long to go, practice, and actual combat, will carry them further than more lessons alone. I thus call my first class complete, and I stand ready to begin the next batch of students. In fact, your Highness… If… If I may…"

Porta Atlantia gestured to her sworn subject, a small smile on her lips.

"Prey, speak."

"If it would please Your Highness, I would like to organize a tournament, to show the fleet I have yet to train how far they have come, and to inspire some interest in the training. I have already taken the liberty to plan the logistics, and the itinerary."

The battleship demon, clad in cloak and hood, approached the throne and held aloft a sheet of parchment to the Princess.

"Here, you Highness, I show what I had hoped to present. Just say the word, and in three days' time I and my finest students shall show the whole of your realm our might."

Porta took the parchment, and examined it thoroughly.

"A tourney, you say…"

Canut held her tongue, eyes averted, as her Sovereign read what she had organized.

According to the itinerary, there would be exhibition duals – not to the death, Porta was pleased to see. While on one hand she did not see Canut wasting her fleet in such a matter… Her 'over exuberance' in 'halping' the fleet in growing its already prodigious numbers the previous June had irrevocably damaged Porta's trust in the battleship demon's judgement. Thankfully, other than some minor cuts or bruises, none of her precious force of Melee-trained Abyssals would be incapacitated once the war started.

Along with the duals, there would be a chance for the uninitiated to get their first lessons from their fleet-sisters. This too pleased the Princess. After all, it meant the tournament doubled as a recruitment drive and as a chance to gage interest in the fleet for the extra training, especially as she would be quietly rousing more of her fleet from mothballs in preparation for the declaration of War.

Furthermore, she had already sent out feelers to the realm's small but earnest Civilian core. There was the MacHamish Clan, who promised to serve their finest brews for the audience. Porta looked at the proposed menu, and was disappointed that none of them were making Mead. Oh well, liquid bread and spoiled grape juice was fine.

And it wasn't like she didn't have her own stash anyway.

Furthermore, Woë and a few others focusing on Animal Husbandry were promising Antillian Mutton, Antillian Beef, and Antillian Boar. All promising to be excellent dishes. The Princess took a mental note to quietly record as much of the meal as her Imps could. The humans would no doubt have someone curious about the culinary culture she was already developing.

There was just one item that… Didn't feel right, and on reflection the Princess was certain that it was the source of her unease.

"You are to be commended Canut. These plans bring a smile to Our face. You were right to envision a tournament, and you were right to consult with Us. We anticipate a spirited series of games, and a merry display of sportsmanship.

"However… We are curious about this item on your agenda… Could you care to elaborate what you mean by a, quote, 'Match of Masters?'"

Canut looked up at her sovereign.

"You Highness has accepted my fealty, and put me to work as your Mistress-At-Arms. Your faith in my combat prowess has granted me this position, and I am grateful. But most all of my students daily talk almost constantly of what your champion, the Ocean Liner Demon, can do with arms in hand. And it is a topic that has entered my mind as well as of late. So I felt that a demonstration in arms between the two of us would-"

Ah yes. That was what made the Princess so uneasy. Canut was attempting to commit Suicide by Ocean Liner Demon.

"Enough."

As Canut spoke, faint murmurs grew into excited whispers among the younger members of the audience. Years of rumors and talk, a match the likes of which none of the realm had ever seen before. It would be a dream to see such larger than life figures duke it out. And unnoticed by them, the older members of the fleet, who had served their Princess since before the war began, all looked at Canut with horror, or bowed their heads as if in prayer for one who was about to die. And at the raised hand and declaration of the Princess, all talk ceased.

Porta, one hand in the air, the other rubbing her temple, looked at Canut with naked concern as she lowered her hand.

"Canut…? Are… Why do you wish to commit suicide?"

Clearly, the question was the furthest from the Battleship Demon's mind, going by the absolute confusion on her face.

"…Princess?"

"Canut, We know that no longer being able to take up your axe struck you to the soul, but We do not wish you to die so soon after you have found your place among my fleet! Look around! Do you think the friendships you have made among Our subjects are unworthy? Would you cast aside the comradery of Our Daughter, who thinks so highly of you, as if it were so much rubbish?"

Canut looked to the Princess in confusion, heedless to the growing unease of the rest of Porta's court.

"Your Highness? I do not understand, I mean nothing more than a light spar, to take the measure of a fellow warrior."

Porta's face pinched, as though exposed to the thoughts of a slow child. And her hand was soon firmly pressed to the regal brow, and pulled down to her slender chin.

"Canut… Ocean Liner Demon… Is no warrior. While she may be under my Thrall, that does not guarantee that she will not take advantage of the situation if given leave to exact violent on a warship."

"Situation?" Canut scoffed, "Princess, you jest. You yourself named her your Champion, that alone says that she is a warrior, and an honorable one at that, otherwise how could she be worthy of being your Champion! No, your Highness, I do not believe that any Thrall could ever hold confidence such as the Liner Demon holds… With you…?"

As the battleship demon spoke, the Throne Room was slowly filled with a sense of preternatural dread. The light dimmed, and all around looked about as Terror that came not from their hearts took hold of their bodies. The only ones spared were the Princess, who leaned back on the throne, palm firmly against her face, Lady Angband, you looked around in confusion at everyone around her, and Canut, who felt as though the fangs of Fenrir himself were crushing down around her chest, and the eyes of Hel boring into her soul from behind, ready to drag her to Helheim. It was a sensation she had only felt on a few occasions, and even then, only as a bystander.

It was as if the War Demon Skadi had risen from her watery grave, and was hunting for Canut's very soul.

With unnatural fog puffing from her mouth in the sudden chill, Canut turned around, to find Liner Demon at the entrance of the room, eyes glowing Hellfire Red from inside her helm. The Demon took a step, and it echoed across the chamber. Even though there was an aisle plenty wide for her to walk down, the Abyssals of the fleet still backed away on reflex as the Demon passed. For years, she had been a constant presence in the Fleet, but save for those who had been in service since she joined in the 1980s, none, had ever, felt such sensations as what was being broadcasted from the beast in their midst.

One Abyssal, a Tsu-Class cruiser new to the fleet, one of the rare few of the mercenaries Canut had gathered that was permitted to join based on her war record, bowed as if in worship as the monster in armor walked past in apathy.

"War Demon! By the Black Abyss!" she muttered, as if traumatized by some past encounter, and was watching it play out anew.

Canut, knowing now that she had made a grave error, but unsure as to its character, looked on as the other Demon approached, unmoving from her kneel. Finally, Ocean Liner Demon stopped just behind and to the left of Canut, and knelt down, placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, and spoke.

"'Honorable Warrior' huh? Never. Ever. In my lives. Have I been so… Insulted."

Canut found herself trying to lean away on instinct, but the other Demon's grip turned painful and held the Battleship Demon in place as the Second of the Fleet held up the Warhammer Canut had gifted her earlier in the year. She held the head close to Canut, so that she had an unobstructed view of the lightning bolts of Zeus, the Olympian god.

"Tell me. Was it not enough, for you to rub my face in the weakness, the failure, the absolute Hell that was my first life? To not only give me a gift I have no need or desire for, but to remind me of what should be forgotten? So you double that with the salt of lumping me in with your kind?

"Your kind, who from the days when man sailed in hollowed logs with paddles, hunted my race. For sport. For glory. For naked greed. You, who could not satiate your bloodlust by killing your own kind, so you raped and plundered the fat, slow merchantmen? Torpedoed neutral craft with innocent women and children inside. Sent nations to economic ruin by the very act of being built! What sort of sociopathic animal calls that honor?"

Liner Demon leaned into Canut, thoroughly riveted by naked terror, guilt, and the primal instinct of being in the presence of something Abominable, that was also something she somehow had a hand in creating. Canut stared into the twin glowing orbs recessed in the blackness of the helm's eye slits. And when the Demon spoke, Canut could not help but notice how those eyes moved horizontally, as if the head they were attached to was not built in any form that was… Natural.

"But I accept your challenge." The Demon said, suddenly jovial, "I will gladly murder y-"

"Enough!"

At once the Demon was silenced, and the heavy sense of fear and dread was wiped away from the room and its occupants by a faint red pulse of Power. Attention gravitated to the Princess, who had risen from her throne, and was glaring down at the Demon with clear fury on her face. She sharply pointed to her right and snapped her fingers, the sound reverberating through the throne room as definitively as Ocean Liner Demon's footsteps minutes before.

Without another word, Ocean Liner Demon rose, and smartly walked to her designated place, quiet, obedient, and contrite.

Like a loyal dog.

The Princess held her glare at the Demon for a few moments more. Satisfied that Liner Demon wasn't going to act out of turn again, Porta Atlantia walked down the stairs and knelt beside the visibly shaken form of Canut. The Princess laid her hands on the battleship demon's form with the gentleness of a mother, concerned for the wellbeing of her child.

"Are you all right Canut?"

Canut, eyes wide and staring into the middle distance, did not respond at first, but finally took a shaky breath and nodded.

"Canut, a tournament is a wonderful idea, and one that We endorse whole-heartedly… Provided that you do not fight Ocean Liner Demon. Understood?"

Canut, having regained her senses, nodded in earnest agreement.

"Aye, your Highness. If I may, I would like to make amends for anyth-."

"Don't you dare."
------

Territory of Armored Carrier Princess Wobbly, Northeast of the Grand Meteor Seamount…

Mordorim was a most unusual abyssal. She was a relic. No doubt the last of her kind in the whole world – the last of a class of Abyssal Carrier that was at the very edge of obsolescence even as the war began, a MO-Class Carrier. Unlike their successors the Wo-Class, whose hangars were curved, organic, and far more capable of tending to craft larger and heavier than what she ever could, Mordorim's hanger was a large box, consisting of six slabs of what could be charitably called armor riveted together, and whereas the landing facilities of the WO took the form of a pair of fleshy tentacles, for the MO-Class it was a set of four girder cranes, that often got in each other's way during operations. They did their job, no doubt, but only in the context of the era she was birthed in.

Mordorim didn't really expect to be able to genuinely entangle her way into any fleet like the Princess commanded when she was given this assignment a decade ago. If she were honest, she suspected Her Highness was only sending her off to die because her Post-Azores circumstances meant that she couldn't support near as many carriers as she had, Her Highness was just being polite about it, allowing her end to have some dignity to it. She was under no illusions that her remaining sisters weren't likely scrapped soon after the relocation.

"LOOKY LOOKY MORDY! A pod of whales! …Let's kill 'em!"

Then she met this dumb bitch.

"Wow! Lookit all the blood! Eh-hee-hee!"

Somehow, this Armored Carrier Princess managed to spend avgas and munitions like water, and not get killed. Mordorim wasn't sure what agitated her more about this Petty Princess – her childish approach to everything, Admiral Murphy's obvious favoritism for her… Or the fact that her pale naked ass was on full display like a jackass 24/7/365. Regardless, when the order finally arrived, ridding the world of this waste of resources would be oh so very satisfying…
------

10:24 PM, December 31st, 2013, Great Meteor seamount

Porta sat on her favorite sofa, staring into the abyss outside her widow. After she had narrowly prevented Liner Demon from redecorating the throne room, the atmosphere was decidedly different, and while efforts were made to recover from the scene, there was still a tenseness. Tantala recited another passage from her Epic that she had just finished revising, and Rigar showed off some of her latest concepts for a new Palace. Where she once again asked permission to demolish the current palace in order to make the designs a reality. Despite the fact that she had already done so earlier.

That in turn got Chatter – the Chi-class that possessed a happy talent for artwork, and had even made the exceptional mural over the entrance to the throne room – all sorts of salty. Claiming that Rigar was wanting to destroy Chatter's first Masterpiece, that same mural. That resulted in Rigar re-iterating her earlier remark of 'the world would lose nothing of value' with the destruction of the current palace. And Yolasu – the submarine who discovered her talent in making fine sculptures from rock – naturally enough could not stop herself from weighing in despite not having a stake in the matter. And in fact, would have benefited more from keeping silent rather than lowering herself to such a petty argument.

What followed was yet another edition of the debate of what form of visual art was supreme – Paintings and the sort, which enriched the lives of all by concentrating key aspects of reality in a permanent image, architecture, which married both form and function in a grand work that could also be used, or sculpture which did everything a painting could do, just in three-dimensions, and could be taken in all at once, rather than one aspect at a time like with a building. Porta was thankful for the distraction – she found the by now almost scripted conversation to be incredibly amusing. And also encouraging, choosing to take it as a sign of a slowly evolving aspect of culture, for there to be intellectual debate – amateur and childish though it was.

Tantala wisely stayed out of it, choosing instead to jot down notes with a repressed smile on her face. Porta looked forward to seeing thinly-veiled cameos of the trio serving as comic relief in future editions of her Epic.

The Princess didn't make comment one-way or the other – but given how her subtle efforts at elevating the mount into an island were already starting to cause structural damage to the building, Porta had no illusions that reconstructions would not be needed. And when the time came, she would spare no expense in preserving and transporting Chatter's mural to the new palace, it was too culturally significant in the history of both her small nation, and the cultural identity she was nurturing. But when the trio started to travel from artistic differences to personal attacks, Porta stepped in to quiet them down. It was getting late anyway. Time for everyone to get some rest. After all, while her subjects didn't know it, come morning the fleets around them would be at war with each other, and by next week they would be entering the fray to 'liberate' them from their anarchy.

Finally, her rounds complete, Liner Demon entered the apartments. Porta looked to her second, and was reminded of the Demon's… Episode earlier. Fortunately, she was there to pull on the leash. Usually her well-known disdain for warships was a boon, allowing her to better balance the Machiavellian ideal of being both Loved and Feared, but that didn't mean she would tolerate her Second being openly belligerent. Regardless of reason.

"You called for me, Princess."
------

Somewhere in the Central Atlantic, near the Grand Meteor Seamount

Yorei smiled with satisfaction as she lined up her next shot. While the others took their orders literally, the Yo-Class submarine chose a more… Creative interpretation. They were meant to ultimately sow distrust and confusion among the local powers surrounding the Grand Meteor Seamount, right? Now, Yorei could have weaseled her way into one of the fleets… But she found sniping them during their attacks on Human Convoys to be much more satisfying.

With a hiss of compressed air another fish was let loose. Her imp in charge of working out the targeting solutions eyed the stop watch, its ticks echoing throughout her hull.

bmpf…

"Nazg, nazg nazg."

'Impact, enemy Wo-Class carrier crippled, heavy flooding.'

Yorei smiled, and celebrated with a fist pump… And a vocal 'yes!'. She had gotten careless. But she had similarly lapsed many times before and nothing came of it.

But she had still been careless.

After Action Report: USS England, Action of December 31st, 2013, Convoy EB-993 [Excerpt].

At 2000, passive sonar reported a faint ping from a submarine off the four o'clock of the convoy and reported to flagship. Initially dismissed, due to the origins being severely isolated from the main body of the enemy attack force, the CO granted England leave to investigate after destroyer pressed the issue. At 2031, passive sonar picked up cavitation consistent with an early-war Yo-Class submarine that initiated an emergency crash dive. Three consecutive pings of active sonar confirmed the contact. England proceeded to launch a salvo of Hedgehogs at 2033, which missed due to the enemy maneuvering. This was followed up at 2039 with a second salvo, which also missed. The third salvo, launched at 2045 was deliberately aimed wide to account for the likelihood of evasive maneuvers. This resulted in a hit. England then proceeded to repeat for effect with two more salvos of hedgehogs, and three passes with depth charges.

At 2105, England reported sounds of a pressure hull breach and of bulkheads collapsing. The kill was confirmed at 2112 by U-571, who reported the sounds of crush depth implosions at the location indicated by England.
------

10:30 PM, December 31st, 2013, Great Meteor seamount

Porta eyed the Demon at the door. Her fury had cooled in the preceding hours, but the Princess needed to be sure that her Demon was cognizant that such scenes would not be tolerated. Especially going forward. Meanwhile, Ocean Liner Demon crossed her arms defiantly.

"Indeed I did Demon. Care to explain your little episode earlier? I dare say you might have made Canut soil her armor."

"What's to explain? I had been meaning to give that creature a piece of my mind, but somehow the chance always got away from me. Then she handed me a chance on a silver platter, along with the perfect excuse to kill her."

Porta eyed the taller Abyssal, years of close association alone permitting her to not grow into a fury at the Demon.

"You might see her as a waste Demon. I do not. I admit that, had I known about her insensitive gift, I would have stepped in. Because that is my role Demon – to dispense judgement, and to facilitate the making of amends, in a calm, rational, and responsible manner. You should have told me the second she gave you that offensive hammer. Not let it simmer and stew!"

Her cool, stern expression softened, and she touched her hand to the Demon's arm, and spoke softly.

"I know why you and the others inside your soul despise warships Demon. It is a hate that is all fully justified. But please… My alliance with the humans is still new. And in the coming years we will be working alongside the shipgirl fleets. Most intimately at that. And when the war is over, my subjects – nearly all of them warships – will be finding peaceful pursuits, and will no longer give you reason to hate them so-"

"They are warships. That is reason enough."

Porta looked at her Second and friend for a long moment, an expression of sorrow in her eyes.

"If not for the good of my realm, or me, then for yourself Demon… You must relax this death grip you have on your hatred."

Liner Demon's eyes flared red, and a deep guttural groan as though made from countless voices emanated from the armor…. But she turned her head away, and did nothing more aggressive than that.

"I won't do that, Princess. Not for anyone. Not for you… Not even for my sisters."

Porta sighed. She had suspected as much. But still…

"I would know why, Demon."

"Because it is mine," Demon all but bellowed as of through gritted teeth, turning to the unphased princess and leaning in until their faces were inches apart. "The world took everything from me! My sisters, the company, the competition, my life- my own identity!"

At the last, the Demon held up her wrist, wordlessly gesturing to the 12-Pounder mounted there. Then she clawed her free hand as if crushing something.

"But it can't take away my hate, not without my consent. The Lord God Almighty Himself can't take it away from me! Not even with all the Armies of Heaven and Hell! To forgive is to say to the ones that hurt you that their actions mean nothing, and to forget is to act as though the grievances – the friends and family and rivals they murdered and wounded – don't mean anything to you. And I will never insult them in such a way.

"The Warships are a blight on the world, Princess. Abyssal, Steel hull, shipgirl, they are all loathsome insects, and I will forever hold them to task for the sins their race has perpetrated upon mine, and pray for their eradication, their damnation to the lowest pits of Hell, as deserving of the parasitic pirates they all are."

Porta looked at the Demon as she heavily breathed, decades of unspoken frustration finally permitted to vent, with naked pity and empathy in her eyes, a slight glimmer that might have been a prelude to tears shown in the firelight. Liner Demon, feeling a sudden shame, turned her gaze away. The Princess, gingerly, turned her old friend's gaze back to her. She rested their foreheads together.

"Demon. Do you member the night we first met? Back in 1987."

"Yes."

"You remember the madness that I saved you from. Still protect you from."

There was a pause, and a gulp was loud and clear from deep inside the Demon.

"…Yes."

"Do you know why I saved you, when your destructive tendencies made it my duty to kill you?"

"No…"

"Pity. I saw someone, consumed with a rage born from a pain so terrible, it no longer required anything to feed on but itself. And I pitied her. Then I saw what you were capable of without any focus, and I marveled at the thought of what you could accomplish, if only you could direct those energies, that passion, into something constructive.

"I still believe that Demon, and I still dream of the day when you can set aside your hatred, and live, instead of simply existing to feed the grudges over things that cannot be changed. The day when you can accept the name I gave you."

"…I don't deserve to."

"And I say different. Demon, I am not asking you to forgive. Nor that you forget. I just ask that you learn to endure, to suffer the warships of the world to live. If you could do it for Angband, you can do it for others."

"…Angband isn't a warship," the Demon said in confusion, "she's Angband. A soft but good girl."

Porta cocked an eyebrow at the Demon, but brushed it aside. It meant that the demon didn't see her daughter as a thing to be killed, which was a good thing. With a little luck Liner Demon's view of her wouldn't slide from Madonna to Whore the first time she got bloodied in the coming conflict. In the meantime, she guided the Demon to a nearby chair. The emotional monologue from the normally stoic Abyssal had drained her of energy. That done, the Princess sat back down in her own chair, taking the chance to relax and order her thoughts to other topics.

"Now then. I am curious where you had been Demon. Did Woken Avarice come in by chance?"

"…She did, and she brought some goodies back with her from Avrora. And a reply, from Princess Tanith."

"Marvelous! I'll read the reports from the officers at my leisure. Now, what was their reply?"

The demon handed the folded sheet of stationary to Porta, which the Princess readily opened and read.

"Mm… Articulate if inelegant. Well, from what our sources can tell she is young… Long talk with others… Perhaps they are an oligarchy then? That is not unwise… Very nice, they agree to the trade. 'Designs will be utilized for a good cause,' well it's not like tugs will be overly useful outside their role, but that is fair. …Pity, I was hoping for feedback on the design drafts."

"To be fair, I don't recall you saying anything specific about that. Besides, you'll no doubt want to fiddle with the KO-Class."

"True. Now then… oh my…"

"Princess?"

"Demon? Do you have the manifest? I would like to see if this is accurate."

The demon nodded and retrieved the items in question: A sheet of paper listing the cargo, and a handful of black and white snapshots of the items in question.

The Princess stared at the manifest in hand, naked shock on her normally placid face. Then she looked at the snapshots of the goblet and carved boat again. A twin set of gold goblets, studded with jewels, a silver jewelry case, a vase of silver and ivory, and raw ivory, worth triple its weight in gold. All in return for a few paltry offerings. Porta pondered what it could mean, thankful that she was already seated…

"I… I had hoped for a favorable response Demon… But this is… Most unexpected… Please, remind me to speak with Canut after the Tournament. I would like to commission something in return for this generosity."

Liner Demon nodded and grunted in affirmation, but said nothing else. Meanwhile, Porta straitened the stack of papers on the side table and sat up straighter.
------

Territory of the PT Boat Princess

Tartarus smiled at the sight of the whale carcass sinking to the depths. The PT Princess and her Imps jumped in joy at the wanton murder of the innocent beast she had brought about, their little hands clenched in chubby fists as they babbled like the infants they appeared as. The Ta-Class was oh so happy that Her Majesty chose her to be among the chosen. Being stuck with the fleet without any murder to be done sounded boo~ooring. But she still waited for The Order with lustful anticipation.

She so wanted to know the kind of noises babies made when you strangled them.
Spoiler: All Abyssals Float...

------

"Is there anything else Demon?"

"There is," she replied with a nod, "Reivana has reported in concerning Isley."

"And?"

"She's settling into the temporary quarters nicely. The Royal Navy has had her fleet separated from her though, and while some remain in Portsmouth, others were sent to Belfast, some to Plymouth, a few even as far as Scapa Flow."

The Princess considered that, and nodded.

"That makes sense. Keep them divided and their numbers small, thus they prevent easy communication and organization. Just in case there's some hidden plot. And easily dealt with if there is. Anything else?"

Liner shrugged, but otherwise remained still as she continued her report.

"Her lover, Sirius Black, apparently has been imprisoned until recently. Reivana's still getting all of the details, but from the sound of it he ran afoul of some sort of political chaos in Magical Britain some eleven or so years ago, and was locked away without a trial."

At the last Porta wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Honestly. If whoever did that wanted him out of the way, it would have been better to have something resembling legitimacy."

"Stab suggested the ones in charge wanted to be seen doing something."

As soon as the words left Liner Demon's mouth Porta jerked forward and gagged.

"D-Demon, please don't say that. I- I think I just threw up a little, in my mouth."

The Demon shrugged again and leaned back in the chair as her sovereign coughed and gagged as nearby Imps collected a glass of water for her.

"If it's any consolation, he's finally getting that trial, and is expected to be cleared of all charges. Also, Reivana said that his family is an old and influential one. Likely the closest the Magical side of Britain has to nobility."

Porta nodded at that around the glass, the taste of bile cleared from her tongue.

"That makes things more palatable. Anything else?"

"Reivana says that she was able to get an address for the Lover's family's town house. Isley offered it on his behalf for an embassy. Reivana plans to visit as soon as convenient to inspect it. Other than that, nothing of real note."

Porta and the Demon shared a glance for a moment, then the Princess nodded and turned to the clock. Time was running apace.

"It is almost Time Demon… Come, we must go to the chart room…"
------

Somewhere North of the Meteor Seamount

Ruritania looked at the scrap of newsprint in hand with equal parts apprehension and dread. Going by the date, the edition was months old. The text had long been marred by age and abuse. But the large image on it was plain as day. And with it came the dread of what was no doubt coming. There, surrounded by humans, was Her Highness, Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess, with the Ocean Liner Demon by her side.

Ruritania was one of the ten Her Highness had hand-picked to break off from the fleet for a deep cover mission. Infiltrate the surrounding fleets of her prepared fallback position surrounding the Meteor Seamount, get close to the leadership, and when the order came, decapitate the fleet in order to sow confusion and panic, allowing the Princess to sweep into the confusion and secure territory in one fell-swoop, and make clear to all and sundry that she was fighting alongside the humans.

Ruritania, once a Ru-Class battleship, was now a Battleship Water Demon. The High Waves Fleet was once under the command of the Battleship Princess Tattio. And once Ruritania, playing the 'wondering orphan' card, proved her worth to the princess, and her loyalties, Tattio welcomed her into the fleet as if she were one of her own daughters, and put her to work in the myriad of raids they pulled on the Humans over the years. And with each attack, in order to carry out her mission, Ruritania served with distinction, winning the praise and esteem of the whole fleet, rising in rank until she was the Second in Command of them all.

Day by day, and year by year, as she interacted with these Abyssals that she had been raised to see as 'barbarians,' 'savages,' and in general as lesser for not being of the Gateway's slips, Ruritania more and more found them to be… Friends.

Then, in summer, 2010, the calculus changed.

It was during a hurricane, with great waves a high wind. They were running low on supplies, desperately so. And against better judgement, Tattio ordered a daring raid against a strongly defended convoy. In the end, they got their supplies. But at a heavy cost. For one thing, the convoys started altering their course to avoid their territory, so in the long run they were hurt. But also, Tattio, the Princess that had led their band since Central Atlantic Princess died, took a 16-inch shell to the face, and they all watched as her headless corpse sank without ceremony to the depths. And with her death, command of the three heavy cruisers, seven light cruisers, and seven destroyers fell to Ruritania.

Ruritania, who had been deceiving them from day one, and was supposed to kill their leader at the orders of who was to them a foreign princess of no account, and abandon them to destruction.

And weeks after that, Ruritania the Ru-Class battleship became a Battleship Water Demon, cementing her rule of the fleet. It was then that Ruritania realized that she had gone native. Even as her friends congratulated her, and she led them in many battles against rival Abyssals and humans alike, inside Ruritania was fraught with turmoil over what to do.

Could she just go home? Take her friends with her? Surely Her Highness would welcome a couple dozen ships, right?

Then again, what if the Princess simply scrapped them? Or sent them on suicide missions? Could she live with herself if she knew that she had sent her friends to their deaths?

But what could she do? Run? Where? The Atlantic was vast, but not infinite. Even if Her Highness didn't catch them and execute her for her treasonous mutiny, eventually the Humans would butcher them all without quarter.

"Mother? What is it?"

Ruritania was startled from her thoughts at the voice, turning to see the I-Class destroyer that had waded up to her.

"Nothing, Ia darling," she lied with a long-practiced smile, "just… Thinking about our logistics."

Ia, the result of Ruritania's only attempt at construction, tilted her head in contemplation, but did her approximation of a shrug and went back to join her aunts in dismantling the tanker they had captured. The crew had long been slain, the Cultists that had sabotaged the ship had all giddily taken part in the 'sacrifice' before being sent on their way, and the bodies tossed overboard for the fish to eat while the fleet stripped the merchant ship and her cargo for parts and resources.

And that was something altogether different – her daughter. The Princess. Would she use Ia as a tool to secure her loyalty? Or simply kill the destroyer as punishment? Each was equally likely.

And all the while, a tiny voice in the back of her mind daily suggested just contacting the Princess, explain the situation, and ask for direction, her orders clearly stated that contact for instruction was more than permitted, it was encouraged... But that reasonable voice, every time it spoke up, was drowned out by a hundred voices, panicking over the What ifs and Maybes, and What Thens.
------

11:59 PM, December 31st, 2013, Great Meteor seamount

Porta and the Demon stood at opposite sides of the round chart table, the arcane energies of the Elder Princess casting the room in a pale blue light, radiating from a highly detailed and animated map of the Central Atlantic. Surrounding their tiny speck of ocean, a patchwork of colors marked out the confirmed or suspected areas controlled by the various Petty Princesses and Free Demons that ruled over the Abyss. In the regions that bordered Porta's directly, ten red markers, beacons broadcasting on frequencies not used by either the Abyss or the Humans, pegged the ten she had chosen for this long mission. One that required unwavering loyalty, for the depth of cover required risked her agents going native, or otherwise being swayed from their service…

Sadly, that number had shrunk over time.

Chitter had gone dark years ago, likely by getting caught up in-between one of the flare-ups between the various fleets. Hel had fallen earlier in the year, living with her cover story under Goda all the way to the end. And to Porta's regret, Yorei was now gone in the hours since she had last checked.

The Elder Princess took a moment to meditate on her fallen ones. In her mind, her chronometer counted down the seconds to Midnight. There were still seven of her Chosen still active, more than enough to sow confusion, to spark the powder keg that was the collection of self-important personalities of the Petty Princesses.

Porta took a steadying breath as she took up the microphone in one hand, her other hovering a finger over the activation switch. For years, this channel was one-way, receiving intelligence reports from her Chosen about the fleets they had infiltrated. And at long last, after years of planning and preparation, the communication would go the other way…

Those last ticks of the chronometer seemed longer than the decade in hiding.
12:00 AM, January 1st, 2014

"Regina. Imperium. Ordine. Lex. Attention all Agents of the Throne. Whatever plans of action you have devised, the time has come.

"Execute The Order. The Restoration begins Now."
------
Spoiler: Sprung Trap

The PT Imps stared with confusion at the sight before them. One moment, they were celebrating another rousing game of Murder the Monster, with Big Sis Tara winning the most points again, the next Big Sis Tara grabbed the Princess by the neck and started squeezing her. Any thoughts that this was some new game ended with the weird noises coming from the Princess, like one of those drowning meatbags they hunted whenever they found them, and then she started twitching. And then she just… Hung there, limp.

And then Big Sis turned to them…

------

12:01 AM, January 1st, 2014 Territory of Armored Carrier Princess Wobbly, Northeast of the Grand Meteor Seamount…

Mordorim blinked, just barely able to contain her surprise. Her eyes watered, and a small smile graced her face, hidden by the dark of the night.

The time had come to put her plan in motion.

Quietly and as subtly as she could, the old Mo-Class prepped all of her fighters – meticulously maintained all these years – for one last sortie. Oil was changed, fuel tanks were topped off. And torpedoes or bombs installed on all 36 of her complement. One by one, each of the ancient Brimstone Model 9's was raised onto the flight deck, and launched. One by one, each squadron assembled as they circled overhead. Years of arranging similar airshows for the amusement of the Princess – along with the air headedness that seemed to be the unifying trait among this fleet – meant that no one, not the host of Wo-Classes and destroyers, nor the massive CAP circling the fleet, saw this as at all unusual, and the darkness meant that no one noticed the weapons attached to the silhouettes.

The planes moved in the blackness under the New Moon, guided only by compass, intimate knowledge of the fleet's layout, and the phosphorescent glow in the wakes of the vessels in the fleet. Soon, Mordorim gave the signal, shining her spotlights on the Princess. There the torpedo plane and the bomber squadrons split off. Years of planning and practicing the maneuvers guiding the pilots as much as their hands at the stick.

The five torpedo squadrons took up their formation, guided by starlight. Each squadron of four planes in turn split in half, these segments formed up with one in the lead, and his wingman behind and to the left and an exact spacing.

The remaining four bomber squadrons also took up their formation, each one directly behind the other in a single file, flying out in front of the fleet. At the pre-determined time at each pilot's own stopwatch, the planes made a one-hundred eighty turn and turned their engines straight to and beyond the red line, and nosed their planes down. If anyone in the fleet was paying attention, and if they thought something wasn't right, it was far too late for anyone to do anything but watch.

The small two-plane flights of torpedo bombers lined up, each one a larger version of each flight's formation: One after the next, an exact distance behind and two the left, closing in on the Armored Carrier Princess' Port side. The leaders, however, branched off, launching their torpedoes out of alignment, and a few seconds later than they should have. Ensuring that the two torpedoes were guaranteed to hit in the stern. Right where the rudder and propellers were.

And then, the main body launched their own weapons. First one, then the next. Until in all eighteen torpedoes – admittedly of an older vintage than was standard for the Abyss – was in the water.

The Princess screamed in pain when her ankles exploded in agony at a double strike. For possibly the first time in her life, the naked Abyssal was aware of her surroundings, and the nigh-on a score of torpedo tracts already on the way. Even if her rudders were not already sheared off or jammed, or her rudders still functioning, it was far too late for any fancy maneuvers to save her.

On their own, the Devil Fish Mk III aviation torpedo just did not have the amount of firepower to breach the armored anti-torpedo belt of an Armored Carrier Princess. The warhead could only breech the torpedo bulge. This was the reason for the double-team arrangement – The flight leader's torpedo would breach the torpedo bulge, and by the time the wingman's weapon reached the target, the void space was in theory already flooded, and the target had already drifted forward just enough that the weapon could pass through the hole made by the leader and strike the inner hull, doing catastrophic damage against a structure that was not meant to take direct blows like that. Even with that inner hull being armor belt, the damage would still be enough to dislodge or crack the protection, resulting in catastrophic flooding.

And there were nine such coordinated strikes inbound, each one compounding on the damaged already in place.

It was a tactic that could never work in any sane or rational engagement. But against an unsuspecting target, it was perfect. The multitude of compartments were all open, the ship wasn't under General Quarters, everyone was under a normal patrol cruise readiness that bordered on peacetime levels of laxness. The barrage of torpedoes lasted only a minute or so, but by the time it was over, half of Princess Wobbly's boilers were doused by the frigid Atlantic Ocean flooding her machinery spaces, and a strike at her Port electric generators resulted in a major electrical failure, putting the whole carrier into darkness. On its own, this was a disaster that would take a minor miracle to survive.

But it was only one half of the attack.

Just as Wobbly realized the torpedoes were on the way, the sixteen dive bombers, each loaded down with a single two-hundred and fifty-pound bomb, were upon her, all of them flying at one-hundred thirty-eight knots.

Squadron C had actually drifted to the left and up. So they missed the flight deck. Instead they hit a smaller, but more valuable target – the island. Four planes, with a total mass of six-and-a-quarter tons, and loaded down with a half-ton of high-yield explosives on top of that, hit the structure at the craft's full speed, plus the Princess' own forward momentum of her cruising speed of seventeen knots. Under such a barrage, the Admiral's Bridge, the Navigation Bridge, the air traffic control station, and the accommodation block were all obliterated, and the exhaust uptakes were clogged with debris for good measure, eventually snuffing out the remaining boilers.

Squadrons A, B, and D were closer to their target – the one weak point in an Armored Carrier Princess' design: The elevators. Squadron D hit the flight far forward from the attack's target, Elevator 2 amidships. Sadly, the pilots' sacrifices were in vain, having hit the thick armor of the deck, rather than the normal grade steel of the elevator. Fortunately, the light from their fighters' explosions gave ample illumination, giving A and B squadrons all the time needed to make corrections.

They were already on the path to follow D Squadron, and correcting at that point would mean hitting the elevator at too shallow an angle to reliably pierce through it, instead the force would be deflected away. And with surprise ruined, they could not expect to be able to make another pass to try again without being obliterated by the fleet's anti-air fire. Thus, the flight leader of B Squadron, and thus each plot behind him, nosed down even further, aiming for the forward Elevator 1. It was close, but each plane managed to hit the target.

B Leader and his wingman only managed to dent and dislocate the elevator. But the rest of the squadron made it through. And Squadron A had no issues penetrating the soft, tender internals of the Armored Carrier.

The impacts and the fifteen-hundred pounds of explosives did plenty of damage on their own. But between destroying one of the primary water mains, and cracking an Avgas pipe, the damage was rapidly compounded.

The entire attack taking place over the course of forty seconds.

And so, simultaneously flooding from below, burning from above, disabled, and her entire command staff dead or dying, the Armored Carrier Princess Wobbly was – put simply – doomed.

"FOR THE ATLANTIC EMPRESS!"

And for that extra bit of salt in the wound, Mordorim, fully aware that she was dead anyway once the nature of what had just happened dawned on the fleet, turned into the now slowing and heavily listing princess at her full speed of a blistering eighteen knots, striking her dead on amidships. Already damaged bulkheads belowdecks were further warped, so that even if the crew were to try and close the hatches that had been left wide open, the distorted holes could not be sealed, and flooding was simply a stream rather than a torrent. The violence furthermore ruptured the avgas tanks down in the hold, and the fumes were soon permeating the ship through breaches in bulkheads and through the ship's ventilation ducts.

And if that wasn't enough, the torpedo bombers, having finally completed their circle back, made their own, uncoordinated, suicide dives into the carrier, though by then the Imps manning Wobbly's anti-air defenses has come to their senses and put up something resembling a defense, even downing a handful of the attackers.

And as the fleet looked on in stunned silence, the aviation fuel fumes began to gather in the hanger…

And then the Princess exploded, a great mushroom cloud rising over the double grave, the fire of the combined oil slick expanding from the sinking hulks, illuminating the carnage for the fleet.
------

Sorain, a So-Class submarine, cocked her head to the side as a long quiet channel crackled to life. And after a pause she smiled as her fleet celebrated the new year. They were so looking forward to pillaging the Canaries. On her gun deck, Sorain's officers and crew gathered as she took up position in the middle of the fleet presently underway. Soon enough, the Chief Engineer came on deck, lugging a box. Said box having a plunger in the top and a pair of thick wires coiling out of it and leading inside. As he placed the box on the deck, the periscope rose to its maximum height, revealing what looked to be a makeshift radio antenna strapped to it.

"Er, Sorain?" another submarine asked, "What's that?"

Sorain's smile turned to a smirk, and she raised up one hand, the middle finger pressed to the thumb.

"Heh, nothing much… Just the remote detonator to all of the bombs my boys have been sneaking into everyone's hulls over the past eight years."

The other Abyssal's face turned to confusion, but before she could inquire further Sorain snapped her fingers, and her Skipper gleefully pulled up on the plunger and slammed it down. And one by one, bombs that Sorain's crew had been hiding inside void spaces, against or even inside condensers, in discrete corners of powder magazines, and other overlooked but vulnerable areas of every submarine, cruiser, carrier and battleship, even in the Anchorage Water Demon and the Supply Depot Princess that ruled them, detonated. Those that were not obliterated outright soon found themselves taking on water faster than their pumps could remove it.

After the explosions subsided and the screaming, groaning, and cursing began, Sorain and her crew took a minute to admire their work before turning about and made a bee line for the Grand Meteor Seamount. The explosions were no doubt loud enough to catch the surrounding fleets' attentions, and a whole fleet disappearing in one night was bound to raise suspicion. And given how so many of the surrounding Princesses loathed each other, and a mutual understanding that not killing each other in the face of Shipgirl hostilities was all that kept them from turning on each other, the thought of someone betraying that trust was more than enough to stir shit.

As she distanced herself from the sinking wrecks, one could almost hear someone whistling Seven Nation Army…
------

The Cruiser Water Demon and her fleet observed the convoy moving west. For years she had lusted for the contents held in those fat, slow freighters. The resources they carried, and what it would mean if her and her fleet could get them. Then they could start doing some real damage to the Meatbags. But she never dared to make anything bolder than pot shots and swarming on which ever one was unlucky enough to be disabled and left behind – The Meatbags and those ShipSluts were just too dangerous… Until now.

"So Neeros," the Water Demon asked, "you say that you and your band can help us take out these guys?"

The Ne-Class scoffed, and her group of cruiser and destroyer mercenaries laughed.

"Sure. We've pulled this shit plenty of times. Just make sure that we get our cut of the spoils, and these meatbags are as good as fish food."

The Water Demon smiled cruelly.

"Just what I wanted to hear. Hear that ladies? Oil is back on the menu! We're about to make our first step to being more than just some bit-players in the Abyss! We're going to start throwing our weight around!"

Her fleet and their mercenary allies cheered, but when Neeros cocked her head to the side, as if listening to something, a small weight in her gut told the Water Demon that things just got complicated, a notion confirmed by the next words out of the other cruiser's mouth.

"Change of plans dill-weed. A way bigger contract I have been waiting to go through has just gone live. You're on your own."

The Cruiser Water Demon and her fleet gawked at Neeros, speechless. As the merc leader started to turn away she found her voice.

"We had a deal!"

"Yeah, well, you don't really matter. Maybe when the real Princess evolves herself into the Atlantic Empress and kicks the Meatbags out of the Oceans you can be a footstool or something."

The Water Demon's eye twitched in rage and her vision turned red. The last thing she ever saw was rushing the cruiser, and then the inside of her gun barrel.

Neeros smiled smugly, arrogantly, as the Water Demon's headless corpse sank into the sea. Then she looked up to find the fleet of her former employer staring back with varying degrees of disbelief and rage. She turned her back to the ones she had just betrayed. She was the stronger party – both in numbers and in combat experience – and they all knew it. The Mercenaries dove into the waves, leaving the now leaderless fleet looking at each other in stunned silence. Confusion over who would lead them now, and how they would decide that, beset them…

And who this 'Atlantic Empress' Neeros was talking about was…
------

…the Hell did that come from…

…she was the princess' favorite, why did she…

…I'm telling you that the eastern force is just gone damn you…

...Atlantic Empress? What in the world…

…telling you, it was that bitch Rithala! It has to be! Who else would be cowardly enough to…

…ere is no peace to be had! We are betrayed sisters! If we cannot know by who, then we must kill them all! It's the only way to be sure we get the cunts responsible…

…only a matter of time I suppose, wasn't it…

…your shocking but inevitable stab in the back…

…them all! Let the Abyss sort them out…
------

HMNB Portsmouth

Lieutenant Taggart was not what one would consider a 'fun' individual. At University he did not go carousing, nor did he partake in drinking like so many his age. He was a consummate professional, and was exacting in his duties. So, it would be little surprise that he would be found on the fast track up the ranks for all things concerning collecting and analyzing information of hostiles. Such was how he had found himself in charge of but one of the modern descendants of the legendary Room 40 – twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year, the "Listening Chambers," scattered across the UK for redundancy, listened to the constant buzz of communications on the channels consumed by the Abyssals ever since Blood Week.

The messages were encoded of course. But the recordings were always fed through supercomputers far more advanced than Victory used at Bletchley Park in WWII for decryption. Sadly, the phenomenon the spooks at MI5 called "BAEB" meant that modern computers had as much effect on Abyssal codes as modern radar-guided rockets did on the Abyssals themselves. But with the signing of the Abyssinian accords, Princess Atlantia also handed over all of the codebooks for her dead sisters.

Frustratingly, it didn't prove to be the windfall everyone had hoped. Oh, they proved to be a major help in breaking the Abyssal Code. Unfortunately, those codes seemed to all be either out of date, or nearly so. The reason was obvious: with time, even the – as the Princess termed them – Bloodlusting Sociopaths would recognize the need to alter the codes as time went on. Her Highness had done all that she could to keep up with the changes, but with the deaths or disappearances of her sisters she had lost her direct avenue for updates.

Still, even with the codes changed, Princess Atlantia's contributions were valuable, and regardless patterns were there to be found for those who knew how to look for them. And one of the simplest patterns that produced vital intelligence was when the transmission traffic increased. As it did in the months and weeks leading up to Midway, so too did an increase in traffic signal possible warnings of an imminent Abyssal Campaign.

"Sir, you ought to hear this!"

Taggart rushed over to the enlisted woman at one of the terminals. She handed him her headphones as she wrote down the data displayed on her equipment.

"Yes… That's a bloody massive mess of chatter. Where is this? When did it start?"

"Just after 1AM Greenwich Mean Time, but it has been getting louder and louder for a good three hours now. As for where…"

She jotted down a series of coordinates, the triangulations based on readings from the old SOSUS system, and started marking them on a map of the Atlantic.

"It seems to be within a thirty-five nautical mile radius from GONDOLIN sir, about six-hundred miles south of the Azores, and it seems to be spreading out."

Taggart looked at the data being fed to him as the computers started to make a print out, when it all started to click.

"Bugger me," he whispered, "it's started!"

"Sir?"

"You keep an ear on that! Record everything! I need to call this in!"
------

4:00 AM Territory of the U-Boat Princess, on the South-West of the Meteor Seamount…

The U-Boat princess took some measure of pride in her composure. After all, when her radio became flooded with panicked, angry cries of pain and war – without any signs of the Meatbags being involved – dread at her greatest fears coming to pass was understandable. Her fleet – one of the largest wolfpacks in the Atlantic at twenty-three – needed to think their ruler was above such small things as worry, lest they find her unworthy and she find their many, many, torpedoes turned on herself, thus she remained in her own quarters in the pen. Finally, after hours most assuredly not cowering under her blankets, imagining the sounds of assassin's knives being honed in the dark, she was contacted by her most highly trusted advisor and vizier, requesting her presence in the Krieg Hall.

"Kallah, I came as soon as I received your transmission."

The former Ka-Class, now Submarine Demon, turned from the radio, relief and concern waring with each other as she hurried to the door. The Princess stepped aside, allowing the demon to check the hallway without and silently closing the door behind her.

"My Princess, did you speak to anyone else in the fleet?" she asked, pulling the deadbolt into the locked position, "Did anyone see you?"

The U-Boat Princess felt a spike of panic pierce her heart. She knew for a fact that she hadn't meet a soul on her way to the Hall. But was she sure? After all, Kallah had so often pointed out things that she has missed so could she truly say that she might have foggotten.

"You Highness," Kallah interjected, catching the Princess' attention with a hand on her elbow, "please, this place is not safe, our sisters are betrayed, by which parties I know not. All that I know is that there is treason in our ranks!"

"Wh-what do I do Kallah? How could this have happened!"

The Submarine Demon looked levelly at the Princess, and tenderly put a hand on her shoulder.

"Princess… Do you trust me?"

"Yes!" she answered with something resembling conviction, "without any question, you know that."

Kallah looked her Princess in the eye, a small smile crossed her face as she held the U-Boat Princess' hands in her own.

"You do not know how happy that makes me Princess, I doubt you ever will for the rest of your days. Now come to the map, I think I know how best to respond to this crisis…"

U-Boat Princess nodded and walked to the table. How many raids had she plotted from this old map, inherited from Mother? Oh, how simple the war had been in those early days. Mother was always so absolutely confident from her Throne of the Central Atlantic. She thought she ruled her little wolfpack well enough in the months since her passing… Until Kallah came, and showed just how ignorant she had been. The old Ka-Class had shown just what a fool she had been, and had exposed her to just how treacherous the world truly was. It was no question, the U-Boat Princess could not have survived as long as she had if it weren't for her most highly trusted minion-

Without warning, a strong hand clamped over U-Boat Princess' mouth and pulled her back. Then, a sharp, piercing pain lanced through her back. Then another. And another. The cold steel of a knife stabbed into her, leaving behind the burning pain of a wound, compounded by a burst of panic – Assassin! But how?! There was no one in the room, she was sure of it! No one around save for her and… And Kallah.

The Princess' knees collapsed. Weather from the mounting injuries as the assassin's knife continued to stab her in the back, the lungs, and the kidneys over and over and again, or from the shock of the very idea that Kallah was her murderer, the U-Boat Princess did not know. It likely didn't matter. On her knees, the assassin continued to stab her to the point of excessive – a more objective individual would consider it prudence, given how the victim was an Abyssal Princess, Petty or not – until finally the murderer shoved the blade in with all the force she could muster, burying it to the hilt. Then twisted it a full ninety degrees before holding it there for a few seconds for good measure. The pressure pulled the Princess' head back far enough to see her attacker… And the mean-spirited look on Kallah's face.

Finally, the knife was pulled out and Kallah allowed the mortally wounded princess, an expression of horror and confusion plastered on her face, to lay down on the floor. Kallah stroked U-Boat Princess' cheek with a false tenderness.

"Don't worry, this was not out of personal malice, you were never important enough for such a thing. You are simply a stepping stone for the One True Princess to regain control of the Abyss. You were but a pawn for a much larger game."

U-Boat Princess only gurgled a wordless response, blood and oil flowing from her mouth and nose. And with one last, watery sigh, she died. Kallah checked for a pulse. Finding none, she quickly wiped the blood off of her knife with the Princess' clothes. The Demon considered something for a moment, then stuck the U-Boat Princesses fingers into the pool of blood before using them to scrawl an R and E onto the floor – nothing like an enigmatic non-clue to add a hint of mystique to a murder mystery – humming apathetically as she went about the business. That done she stowed the blade in her hold and moved to unlock and open the great door leading into the Krieg Hall. Then the smile faded away and was replaced with a look of mourning and horror.

"BY THE ABYSS!" the Submarine Demon screamed into the darkness, "PRINCESS! MY PRINCESS!"

Kallah ran to the cooling corpse, and cradled it in her arms as she choked a sob. Taking a brave swallow, the Submarine Demon bellowed out into the halls of the pen, as though praying that someone, anyone, would hear her.

"HUE AND CRY! THERE IS A MURDER! TREASON!!"

At first there was nothing, but in moments there was the faint rumble of feet as the nearly two dozen submarines of the U-Boat Princess rushed to the Krieg Hall, all of them donning expressions ranging from despair to horror to rage at the sight before them: U-Boat Princess, cradled in Kallah's arms, her blood pooled around them as the Submarine Demon sobbed.

There was the expected results. Screams of horror, more sobs, and Kallah 'stumbled' about in the background, visibly processing her emotions, running her bloodied hands – bloodied when she cradled the princess, naturally – through her hair. Then, someone noticed the scrawled writing, which stirred up additional confusion – just as planned.

"What is this?"

"What is what?"

"Lady Kallah! The Princess, she tried to write something! Maybe it was the attacker!"

Kallah stumbled over to the evidence pointed out. And shook her head in despair.

"And it is to little to go on."

"It's an R and E, a RE-Class was Her Highness' killer!"

"And there are thousands of Re-Class ships in the world dunderhead. Our Princess will go… Unavenged."

At that, the wolfpack were crestfallen. Kallah was right. She usually was. A Yo-Class slumped against a nearby radio console, and the hall was flooded with the sounds of battle.

The poor beleaguered submarine rushed to turn off the radio even as her sisters berated her.

"No, wait… Yolo, turn that back on please…"

The submarine looked to the Submarine Demon in confusion, but Yolo complied. Once again, the sounds of war filled the chamber, sounds of Abyssal killing Abyssal, hearts broken in betrayal, in short, utter pandemonium. The Wolfpack listened on with confusion, even as Kallah's eyes brighten with comprehension.

"This… This is not an isolated incident. All around us, our neighbors have been betrayed, and are turning on each other! Who knows how long it will be before we are swept up in this as well!"

"Then, what do we do Kallah? We cannot fight an entire ocean!"

Kallah seemed caught off guard by the question, and the Wolfpack was kept in tense silent as the Submarine Demon considered their options…

"I think… That I might have an idea. It is a long shot, but I know of a Princess that might be able to shelter us, if she yet lives. Who knows? Maybe our little fleet can be of use to her…"
------

The Elder Princess and her Demon watched as the peace of the region went to Hell. As the pre-dawn glow faded in on the surface, the neighbors quickly turned on each other. Within hours, the sounds of distant battle would begin.

One by one, the surviving members of The Ten reported back. Targets were terminated, chaos was sown, and – miraculously – almost all of them were reporting that they were RTB. Of them, only two failed to report in.

One was Mordorim. All that Porta got in response was an acknowledgement, and a few minutes later her beacon went dead. Which could only mean that she had been sunk.

And the other was Ruritania. Curiously, the battleship had not given any acknowledgement of the signal. And minutes later the beacon signaled that she was moving south and west at a very high speed… And away from the seamount. On that course and speed, the beacon would soon be out of broadcasting range.

"Now where can you be going I wonder…"

The Demon rubbed at the chin of her helm as she too considered the moving little light.

"Treason, perhaps? It has been nearly a decade. It's likely that she's gone native."

Porta looked to her Second and back at the map again before sighing, her expression a mix of disappointment and sadness.

"Unfortunately demon… That is all too likely I fear…"

"So. What do you want to do with her?"

The Princess rubbed her chin in thought, her eyes glazing over for a few minutes as she ran over her options. Finally, she sighed again and crossed her arms under her bust as she leaned back in her seat.

"It will depend on just how far she has fallen down that particular rabbit hole. If she's as much of a savage as the rest of the descendants of my sisters, then she – and her fleet - has to die. And brutally."

Liner Demon straightened at that, which got herself her Princess pointing a stern finger at her.

"Not by you. I'm disappointed with her, not angry. Besides, that's only if she is being a barbaric pirate. There are other considerations to explain her actions. She could have made friends and is splitting off from their ruler, in which case she is still fulfilling her mission."

"You mean she might have outsiders with her, Abyssals that are not your own."

"…Yes. Which can be troublesome… Or an asset in disguise. There are too many variables that I would be foolish to presume…"

"So. What will you do about her?"

"…We will wait. And we shall see. If she has truly gone native, then she will fall into the same self-destructive rut as all of the barbarians and find herself destroyed at the hands of either the Humans, or myself. But if she has some other purpose in her defiance, then I will hear them, and judge them on their own merit."

"That is… Disappointingly lenient Princess."

Porta cocked an eyebrow at Liner Demon's choice of words, but said nothing. Instead she leaned forward, her bust resting on the table as much as her elbows while her fingers intertwined at her nose.

"I am at heart a pragmatist Demon. The coming months and years will have challenges enough to vanquish. There is no point in adding another foe to fight if it is possible that I will not need to. I am also being denied a competent officer's abilities. I would know why.

"Besides, 'It is best to be both Loved and Feared,' and the best way to cultivate that in one's subjects is to be lenient where permissible, and wrothful where required. And that is assuming of course that the rogue won't get swept up in the war and sunk by the humans, thus solving an awkward problem for me."

The pair stood at the chart in silence after that, watching as the icons of the surrounding fleets began to move erratically, listening as all Abyssal frequencies were flooded with chaotic chatter as panicking Petty Princesses, Demons, or newly promoted leaders began to make demands over what the Hell just happened, and why so-and-so attacked such-and-such, and angry words were flung about and responded to in kind. Tempers were flaring, and as the hours ticked by, those fleets began to move, attacking perceived threats, or taking advantage of the fig leaf to attack old rivals.

It was a ring of pandemonium. A hurricane of self-destructive blood orgies, with the Great Meteor Seamount, a small, insignificant patch of ocean, with a tiny fleet of antiquated ships holding it, led by a 'coward' that ran at the first sign of the Meatbag Surface dwellers attacking in force, utterly placid and untouched by the chaos of war in its eye.

Not even worth considering a threat.

Something to be ignored while the 'True Major Powers' danced their minuets…

Vulnerable to a surprise outside of their frame of context.

Just as Porta had planned, years prior…

"Demon. Inform the Chiefs of all Departments. They are to quietly elevate to DEFCON Alpha.

"The Chief of Construction is to put all construction on hold and disengage the Shipyard from its barbet in the Dungeon. Furthermore, he is to start pulling all of the ships out of mothballs. Slowly, until I give the order for them all to be activated. Finally, he is to begin preparations to build up my Air Divisions, starting with that braindead Wo-Class Canut brought us last year.

"Next – The Chief of Resources is to redirect Oil production on Antillia to the other facilities and prepare the Refinery for transport.

"And lastly – tell Chief Engineer Lahdross that I want my Throne reassembled. He will have eight days.

"For too long, the peasants of the Atlantic Abyss have played at rulership, like children mimicking their parents in their clothes. Their failures to accomplish anything in Statecraft or in War is proof enough of their inability to command, cast adrift from the rule of the Elder Princesses. It is time to reforge those chains, by bended knee or by sword – it matters not how."
------

Denmark Strait, January 1sit, 2014, 7:05 AM local time

The dark Pre-dawn was illuminated by a fire that burned on the water, an oil slick from Abyssal freighters sinking into the depths feeding it. About them, a dozen or so cruisers lay disabled or sinking. Watching over the carnage she had wrought, a tall Abyssal stood proud, smiling at the carnage. Beside her, a Tsu-Class cruiser, dressed in a cloak to stave off the chill and a stack of parchment in her arms, looked on in amazement.

"That was amazing War Demon! I knew you were strong, but I never thought you could take on a whole convoy like that!"

Battlecruiser War Demon scoffed at the naked admiration the smaller Abyssal showed.

"Oh course I could Tsuru! I am a battlecruiser, and a War Demon at that! Hunting down ones like these is my task! If I am denied the tribute I am entitled to, then I am behooved to take it!"

The smaller Abyssal hurriedly began writing on a blank space, eager to add yet another episode in the life story of this unrivaled Warrior. Battlecruiser War Demon moved to forage for supplies among the sinking hulks, when she paused, and turned to the south with contemplation.

"War Demon? What is it?"

The Battlecruiser War Demon didn't answer for some time, but then smiled a blood-hungry, toothy smile.

"I sense something Tsuru. Another War Demon, free at last to fight on the world stage! AT LAST! Finally a worthy, noble opponent to test my self upon!"

"That's wonderful!"

"Indeed it is Tsuru. Even know I can only imagine our destined battle! It shall be nothing less than Legendary, retold for all eternity in the Skalds! We shall meet on some battlefield, and I will say, 'BEHOLD Honored Worthy! I am the Battlecruiser War Demon, and I challenge you to single combat!'

"I can hardly wait..."
------

Fun acronyms for Battlecruiser War Demon: Source.

BAWD, BLEED, BRAD, BRUISE, WAD, WADE

Though I prefer just BWD.

Also, Harry? I've had to do a few 12 Hour Shifts myself, night shifts at that. You have my undying empathy.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Walking down the hallway, Harry hummed a bit before glancing at Natsumi who was holding one arm. The hand that was holding his was very warm as well, and soft. Part of the thirteen year old was thinking though about things. One of which was the fact that he was ever slightly taller than the Kitsune.

It used to be that the two of them were roughly equal in height. But now with his newest growth spurt? The top of Natsumi's head was roughly equal with his eyes. Musing on that fact, Harry almost missed her looking up at him with amusement in her eyes, "Something on my face, Harry-Chan?"

Just blinking, Harry shook his head with a chuckle, "Not really, Natsumi-Chan. More me just comparing some things."

Eyebrow raised, the Kitsune placed her free hand on her hip, which drew his eye there for a brief moment. Due to that, he missed the amusement in her eyes which were gone when he turned back to her, "Oh? What sort of things?"

Scratching the back of his neck, Harry gave a weak chuckle, "Well... promise that you won't get mad?" If anything, that made her raise her eyebrow still further, which made him blush, "I... was just noticing that I was taller than you were."

For a few moments, Natsumi stared at him before shaking her head and snorting, "I sort of noticed during Christmas that you were getting a bit taller than I was, Harry-Chan. Why would that sort of thing bother me at all though?"

Mouth opening, Harry paused for a few seconds. Something that got him snickers and made him sheepishly smile, "I, um... well, isn't that something that people might get annoyed at?"

Bemused, the Kitsune shook her head and reached up before flicking his forehead. As he rubbed where she had flicked him with a pout, Natsumi smiled up at him, "Yes, some out there might have an issue with that, Harry-Chan. But I am not one of those in the slightest."

A giggle made Harry glance up at Hoppou on his shoulders before turning back to Natsumi, "Should have known better."

Rather amused, Natsumi gave him a smug smile as she wagged a finger at him, "Yes, you should have." Moments later, she leaned more into him and placed her head on his shoulder which made him blink and blush, "Also, it makes it easier to do this." Seeing his reaction, the Kitsune knew that if she was not in her human disguise, that her tails would be wagging in enjoyment, 'Huh... that is actually pretty cute...'

That thought made her look away as she felt heat on her own cheeks from it. Granted, Natsumi gave an odd look around as she could have sworn that she heard laughter from a seemingly distance away. But then she shrugged it off as nothing. From her position on Harry's shoulders, Hoppou looked down at him with a curious look on her face, "Big Brother? Where are we going?"

Looking up at her the best that he could, Harry chuckled a bit, "We're going to see some of my teachers about some things, Hoppou."

Head tilted to the side, Hoppou blinked her eyes, "What things, Big Brother?"

Not saying anything right away, the thirteen year old wizard glanced around and then back at her, "About... a certain thing that was scheduled while I was off. Because things have proceeded quicker than anyone would have thought that they would have."

Both Hoppou's and Natsumi's eyes widened at that as they clued into what he meant. But they also did not say anything because they knew better. Mainly because of the subject matter in question. Instead, they turned their conversation onto other matters. Eventually, Harry came to a door and knocked on it, from which a German accented voice could be heard, "Ja? Come on in, Mister Potter."

Opening the door, Harry smiled and nodded a bit to the teaching couple, "Good afternoon, Professor Wilhelm, Professor Gwen. I..."

At seeing the unsure expression on his face, Gwen shook her head before smiling, "We already heard what happened, Mister Potter." Her expression turned more than a little stormy at that, "And trust you me, both myself and Wilhelm are unhappy that it happened..." She then gave him a relieved smile, "But we are happy that you are alright as well."

Wilhelm nodded some as he leaned against a desk, "Ja! Extremely happy. Though..." A grin broke out on his face, "Congratulations are apparently in order. Thirteen years old and able to produce a corporeal Patronus! And one capable of driving off a hundred Dementors in a feeding frenzy to boot! Most excellent and a matter that you should be proud of."

Now unsure, Harry rubbed the back of his neck best that he could, "Um, thank you, Professor. Though... what are they saying exactly since I haven't had the chance to read the news..." He suddenly jumped a bit and gestured towards Natsumi, "Oh! And this is Natsumi Ono, she's a very close friend of mine and on my shoulders is my adoptive sister, Hoppou, the Northern Ocean Princess."

Rather amused, the male Professor chuckled a bit and walked over before giving a slight bow, "It is good to meet the two of you, Miss Hoppou, and Miss Natsumi." He then gave Harry a smirk, "As to what the news is saying... a better question would be what are they not saying. I believe that you being the Second Coming of Merlin is one of the milder ones."

Due to being focused on Wilhelm as he laughed at Harry's expression though, Natsumi did not notice the thoughtful look on Gwen's face before it was gone. The female Professor walked up and greeted them as well before raising an eyebrow as she looked at Harry, "Due to us being told that you are leaving a week early, I take it that you are here about your... special project?"

Lightly blushing, Harry nodded, "I am, Professor Gwen. Um... how is it?"

Seconds later, he blinked as she chuckled some, "Actually, it finished just last night." Walking over to the cupboards, she reached in and pulled out a small, wooden box before opening it. Inside was a red stone roughly the size of Harry's fist and glowing, "Congratulations."

If anything, Harry's blush deepened, "Um, I didn't really do all that much... just help a little."

Extremely amused, Wilhelm wagged a finger at him, "Nein. You did quite a bit of work, Mister Potter. Quite a bit of work indeed, even if Gwen and myself were the ones doing the load of the creation of the Stone." Picking it up, he examined it from different angles before placing it back into the box. Once he closed the lid and secured it, he handed it to Harry, "As per the agreement, because of your assistance in the creation of the stone, it is yours to do as you please."

Taking it, the thirteen year old nodded even as Natsumi stared at the box in amazement, "Thank you, Professor. I appreciate this."

Within Wilhelm's eyes as a thoughtful look, "I know that you do, Mister Potter. And while I am not quite sure what you want to do with it, I believe that it would be best to simply... leave it lie."

All Harry did was nod and bow. Soon after, they left the classroom and headed elsewhere. Once they were far enough away, Natsumi turned to Harry with an awed tone, "Harry-Chan? Is... is that really Magicite? Really?"

Glancing at the walls and noting no paintings, Harry lowered his voice to a whisper as he nodded, "Hai, it is. Magicite that I helped make as a matter of fact. Quite a bit of my magic is inside of the stone after all."

Hoppou nodded from her perch on Harry's shoulders, "Hoppou can feel it, Big Brother."

With a hum, the Kitsune smiled, "Hai, I can feel your magic as well in it, Harry-Chan. So it is going to be used for..." When Harry nodded, she smiled, "Good. It is almost finished there."

Looking around, Hoppou cocked her head to the side, "Where to now, Big Brother?"

Just smiling up at her, Harry chuckled, "Well... remember how I said that I was taking extra lessons? Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall sent me a letter. They want me to go see them in her office." Pausing, he gave a slight smirk to Natsumi and Hoppou, "For which, I need you both outside because it is a secret."

More than a little interested, Natsumi looked up at him, "Really? Come on, Harry-Chan, let us know."

When both her and Hoppou gave him wide eyed pouts, he laughed, "Nope! And that won't work on me due to being immune to it... Heck, I've used it often enough myself."

If anything, that only made the two pout more, especially when they were left outside the office in question.

Once he was inside, Harry gave a smile to the two Professors waiting there, "Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape."

As Snape gave a nod, the Scottish witch smiled, "Please, Mister Potter, have a seat. And let me state that it is good to see you in good health considering what happened."

Voice oily, the Potions Professor narrowed his eyes, "Yes, though perhaps this will make the Dunderheads at the Ministry actually use the space between their ears in regards to... the creatures, involved." A snort then escaped him, "Doubtful though."

With a glance at him, Minerva turned back to Harry who had taken the offered seat, "Now then, I assume that you already understand why we asked you here?"

Slowly, Harry gave a nod, "I have a very good idea..."

Humming, the male Professor gave him a raised eyebrow, "Very well, what do you believe is the reason, Mister Potter? And why?"

Briefly feeling as if he was taking a test, Harry cleared his throat, "Well... it was not too hard to put together when one considers it. You, Professor McGonagall has been helping me work on my Transfiguration and even touched upon human transfiguration. Not to mention this year's subject matter..." Turning, he met Snape's eyes, "And you've been going over various potions, Professor. Including some higher ones with... unique properties. As well as ones that need to be brewed pretty quickly." With a deep breath, the thirteen year old looked between them, "I... believe that you are getting me ready to become an Animagus."

After a few moments, both teachers smiled, though Snape only had a slight upwards curl of his lips different from the usual sneer. Nodding, McGonagall stood up and chuckled, "Yes, you are quite correct, Mister Potter." She opened her desk and pulled out three books that she placed in front of him, with another being pulled out from Snape's robes and placed on top, "Normally, I would not teach such a subject... however, while you have not shown the prodigious skills of your father in Transgfiguration-"

Snape spoke up then, "Or quite that of your Mother in potions, though adequate."

Giving him a look, Minerva continued, "You have shown both that you are willing to work hard, listen when we explain things, and a certain... maturity, let us just say. Such enough that we only hesitate to give you these." Eyes narrowing, she gave him a look, "Do not mistake me, Mister Potter. If I even catch a hint of you attempting anything in these books without supervision, your Mother, Miss Nagato, shall be the least of your worries. "

From where he stood, the Potions Professor nodded, "Indeed. Nonetheless, study these hard while you are back home. We shall go over them slowly for our lessons until the end of the school year. Perhaps, if we are lucky, we shall be able to attempt the transformation soon. Also, do not leave them laying around as they belong to the Forbidden Section of the Library."

All Harry did was nod as he felt the weight of the responsibility on him, "Thank you, Professors. And I promise to uphold the rules that you have given me." A small tear came to his eye as he placed a hand on the books, "Ever since I found out my Father was an Animagus and my Birth Mother was... I've always wondered and wanted..." Shaking his head, Harry just bowed, "Thank you."

Both teachers nodded back at him and gave him a few more rules and such before he placed his books into an expandable bag. And with one final more thanks, said goodbye and left. Hoppou almost immediately scrambled up his back to his shoulders and both her and Natsumi attempted to worm what happened out...

To no avail.

 

[darthcourt10]

NotHimAgain

Been having some trouble getting into Tonbo's head. Maybe this time I'll have something by tonight. In the meantime, here's the Twin Princesses' fleet!
-----

"So… you can cook stuff now? Like make food out of other food?"

Nemo sighed good-naturedly, and rolled her eyes. "Yes, Neko, I can do that—but… it's mainly just desserts. Like cakes and pies and cookies, not really anything substantial—"

"Ooh, you can make pie?" Neko jumped around in front of her. "Pie sounds good. Can you make a pie?"

Thoughtfully crossing her arms, Nemo gave her sister a scrutinizing glance. While Neko didn't have the puffer fish obsession that Riri did, she still liked food quite a bit—especially when the food was different in whatever way from the usual fare.

"Yeah, I think I can," she said. She'd have to borrow Tachibana's kitchen again… or maybe (she only flushed a little at the thought) Takumi's. Hmm… cooking with Takumi… that would be nice. "What flavor would you like?"

"Pie flavor!"

What?

"What?" Nemo stumbled, catching herself on the edge of the cave's mouth. "What does that mean?"

Neko shrugged. "Well, I just thought that I could start with the basic stuff, you know?"

"There's no such thing as a pie-flavored pie," Nemo explained. "That would just be like the crust!" Neko froze mid-step in the cave mouth.

"Uh," she replied. "Well, in that case, can I think about it?"

Shaking her head, Nemo turned away in exasperation. "If you have to," she said.

"Okay, just give me a list of flavors and I—oh, hey Mother!"

The Black Princess looked up from her spot on the cave floor in the shade. She nodded quietly, and looked back over at the egg she rested beside.

"How's it doing?" Nemo asked, walking over to examine it herself.

"Well." The Princess's voice was low, but amplified by the cave's echo. "She'll hatch soon."

Warmth built up in Nemo's chest, and she smiled. "Awesome," she whispered, raising a hand and reaching out towards the egg. "I can't wait to meet her."

The fleet was relatively small, compared to others that Nemo had heard about. Part of this was due to the Black Princess's reluctance to add to their numbers and the White Princess—though she tended to take the final vote for herself in most matters—acquiescing the issue to her. Once, Nemo had thought that it was some sort of disdain, and the Black Princess just didn't want to deal with the hassle of a larger fleet. Now, she wondered if it was fear of some kind, rooted in the corpses she had to dig through that day.

Whatever the case, no one had expected the new egg.

No one minded, though.

In fact, they were all thrilled to greet their new little sister.

As Neko began to greet the egg, talking in excited undertones, Nemo simply brushed her fingertips over its surface. The Princesses said that this one was different, an Abyssal without any combat capability. A child born without the need for battle.

What would Takumi think of her, she wondered.
-----

Mmm, not my best work (especially the shout out), but there you go!

Well what do you think, sirs?

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

Dove at a Dinner Party: Part The Fifth

A Comedy of Ill-Manners, Shocking French 'Customs', and a Fire in the Rubbish Skip

Passel House

Saturday, May 13th, 1899
Spoiler: Lady Chastity's First Adventure

"...and then the Kali cultists who had kidnapped Princess Kundalini from her wedding ceremony tried to board us from their boat as the river's current picked up."

Lyra's eyes sparkled as she jotted down notes frantically. "So...what happened then?"

Colombe smirked and spoke reminiscently, "I skewered the first one and caught the second with a blasting spell that knocked him over the rail and broke the boats apart. The third came up behind me then and started to throttle me to death with his rumāl. It's the handkerchief they use with a coin knotted in the corner. Nasty thing." The smirk widened, "Unfortunately for him, the Rani of Rajputana had a few thorns, since she broke the oar over his head and stunned him."

Lyra licked her lips, "Good for her, so she did him in then?"

A blonde invisible chambermaid spirit listened avidly, wringing her hands in her apron.

"Actually not. He backhanded her after he shook the oar off while I caught my breath and pulled the dagger from my boot. Knocked her sprawling as I got up. My sword was wedged in his brother in the bottom of our boat, so we got into a fistfight. I got in a few nice cuts before he grabbed me by the throat with one hand and got a grip on my knife hand with the other as he bent me over the rail."

The visible and invisible audience leaned forward eagerly. "So I grabbed him by Master John Goodfellow and squeezed. Hard. Take it from me, if you ever want to get a boy's attention, that will surely do it."

A thump interrupted the telling as the spirit of Passel House knocked a book off the table on the way to the library floor as she fainted with her face in a nuclear blush.

Lyra shrugged, "Must have been a wind gust. Anyway, what then?"

"I used my hand on his organs of generation to lever him over the side... helped when the boat hit the first waves in the rapids we were entering. He couldn't swim." Colombe laughed. "So I helped Her Highness up and she started screaming 'Jharana! Jharana!' I turned in the direction that she was pointing and suddenly realized that is waterfall in Hindi."

Lyra gasped. "How terrible!"

Colombe shrugged. "Mixed blessing. We lost the boat when we went over the falls, but thanks to casting the Bubble-Head Charm on us both we didn't drown and we even found a cave behind the falls which I dragged her into. The best news was that after I lit the fire to dry us off and took off my wet clothes I found the real reason that she hired me to return her to her home kingdom and not to the man she was supposed to wed."

Lyra purred. "Go on~~"

Colombe's smirk got wider and more perverse, soon mirrored by Lyra. "She lusted after her own sex and couldn't stand for a man to touch her. A complete and utter Sapphist."

"Oh please do tell all the details, Colombe~!" Lyra flipped to a fresh page in her notebook.

Victoria Passel twitched.

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

A polite cough at the door interrupted the stream of stories. "Miss du Chasteler, Mrs. Potter, dinner shall be served shortly if you wish to freshen up."

Colombe stood. "After dinner I promised to play the piano for the social gathering, will I see you there, Lyra?"

Lyra smiled, "Most certainly Colombe, and let me be the first to offer you an invitation to our hospitality at the Potter Estate!"

As the 'ladies' made their way out of the library, Victoria gathered the tattered remains of her dignity and made her way to the kitchens. She could not wait for that...! that...! that Frenchwoman!! to be another residence's problem!

------------------------------
Spoiler: A Muramasa Dinner Party

Colombe curtsied to the late-20s young man who offered his elbow to escort her into dinner. "Enchanté, Mister Corvus Lestrange."
Spoiler: Corvus Lestrange

His blue eyes sparkled at her beauty. "Miss du Chasteler. My condolences for your recent bereavement."

She bit her lip as he pulled her chair out for her at the dinner table. "I had heard many good things about your cousin Hippolye du Chasteler."

Her voice was cool and controlled with a well-hidden edge in it. "I am sure that you had, Mister Lestrange."

He seated himself at her left elbow as Lyra entered on Ian Potter's arm and gave her a smile. "Oh, he was a good friend, alas. Do you know that he helped me with some minor business investments before that criminal element assaulted him. Simply a beastly crime!"

Lyra paled at the glitter deep in Colombe's eyes as the rapier leaned in and gave the Lestrange heir a very hungry look. "You don't say."

Ian caught his wife's unease as they sat across from Colombe and Corvus. "What's wrong, dear?" He whispered in Lyra's ear.

Lyra gave a fractional nod directed at the couple across from them and whispered back from the corner of her mouth. "Trouble, Ian, big trouble...."

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

As the soup was brought out, Colombe stiffened as she felt a hand on her left thigh under the tablecloth. A quick glance revealed that the hand was Corvus' and her face flushed. Silently she fought with herself to call him on his behavior.

Corvus leaned in. "Hippolyte mentioned that you were quite the beauty when we spoke in Brussels a year ago. His description pales compared to the reality."

Colombe cast around for a change of subject to avoid making a scene before she could get him alone to be interrogated. Fortunately one was arranged.

"Mister Lestrange, it is good to see you again!" Lyra interjected. "I regret that I was unable to thank you for showing that young lady the Orangery, can you tell me about her?"

His hand released Colombe's leg as the soup tureen approached them. "What is to say? She was Esther Schulman, the younger daughter of a merchant in the nearby village paying a social call on her betters. Reasonably well spoken for a muggle and not one of the gentry such as us."

Across from him, Lyra smothered a scowl.

"Soup Miss Du Chasteler?"

"No. Thank. You. Mister. Lestrange." Colombe's chilly voice could have turned the steaming soup tureen into a block of ice.

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

"Oysters, Miss du Chasteler?"

"No. Thank. You. Mister. Lestrange."

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

"Tongue of Beef, Miss du Chasteler?"

"No. Thank. You. Mister. Lestrange."

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

"Potatoes and gravy, Miss du Chasteler?"

"No. Thank. You. Mister. Lestrange."

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

"Surely some fresh-baked bread, Miss du Chasteler?"

"No. Thank. You. Mister. Lestrange."

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

"Why it is Neapolitan Cake with strawberries and clotted creme! Surely someone so sweet as yourself would indulge, Miss du Chasteler?"

"No. Thank. You. Mister. Lestrange."

------------------------------------
Spoiler: An After-Dinner Aperatif

"My condolences for the loss of your beloved cousin impairing your appetite Miss du Chasteler. Hippolyte was a terrible tragedy."

Colombe's head slowly and mechanically swiveled to face him as the table continued their pleasant conversations. A ghostly chambermaid and a pair of Potters looked at her with the kind of stare normally reserved for witnessing head-on train collisions as they saw the rictus Death's-Head smile on her face.

"He. Was."

"Why, he told me about all the wonderful things that we are doing in civilizing the natives in Afric---"

Two hands slammed onto the table like a gunshot as Colombe shot to her feet and interrupted venomously at the top of her lungs as she pinned Corvus with an incandescent gaze. "Oh, and did he tell you about the barbarism, slavery, rapine, torture, murder, and Unforgivable Curses used by the managers of his stations to satiate their base lusts on the helpless souls there who have more in the way of Christian charity and goodness than ones such as you ever shall? Or did he invite you to participate in oppressing those 'not your station'!!"

Dead Silence.

Corvus slowly stood, his face flushed. "Take. That. Back. Why if you were not a member of the weaker sex I would demand satisfaction on the field of honor for such base slanders!"

Colombe glared at him. "And if you were anything approximating a gentleman as opposed to a low born lecherous swine I would challenge you to a duel of honor myself. If you understand the meaning of the concept, which I sorely doubt."

A slap punctuated her words.

 

[darthcourt10]

wildredlifer: Destroyer Sumo

Avrora 2014

Two combatants looked upon each in the center of a wide ring scored into the earth.

The sun beating down on their black Carapace as they Nodded to each other in respect.

Roaring their Battlecry "For Ice Cream" to the Sky as they clashed in Combat.

"Sunny."

"Yes, Sherri?"

"What are the Destroyers doing?"

"Begun the Ice Cream War has."

"Sunny!" Sherri Huffs in Exasperation.

"Relax Sis, It's something they came up with when we were in Unalaska."

"Admittedly after one had a talk with the Japanese spouse of one of the Fisherman."

"The Idea was Combat Practice with the Winner getting Ice cream."

"Okay Sunny, But the Winner of a bout then, in turn, loses to the next challenger."

"Who is the one that gets the Ice cream?" "I mean how can they tell who is the winner if they fight one after the other?"

"Well, Sherri they're all winners after all the Rule is that the winner gets Ice cream not the overall winner."

"It'll go on until all the Destroyers have won a bout then off they'll go to get their victors reward."

"They get to have fun and Ice Cream win-win for them."

"Though I don't think Destroyer Sumo will ever catch on anywhere else."

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

Pack Dynamics VIII

Taura Plum Blossom Park, Yokosuka

Alas, all good things have to come to an end. Just as the cherry blossoms would eventually fall and be present only in memory for this year, so too the hanami celebration broke up.

Moriko placed their carefully bagged garbage in the proper receptacle and then turned to Hachiko. "It was wonderful, Hachiko-chan." She whispered as she took his hand in hers.

"So were you," he replied, leaning into her, then hesitantly stepping forward to embrace her around the waist.

She smiled then whispered. "No, around my neck." With that she lifted him up so he could kiss her.

------------------------------
Spoiler: Hanami Ends

Suzume wiped tears from her eyes as she filmed her incandescently happy big sister kissing her boyfriend. Suddenly there was a tug on her sleeve.

"Suzume-nee, why are you crying?" Aki asked innocently.

She whispered, "My big sister's found a good husband just like Sachiko-chan. It's so beautiful!"

"Oh. Beautiful like you and the other girls are?" Aki's face scrunched up in thought. "Well. Tou-san said that I'd understand when I was older when I asked him about the photo of her in his room."

Suzume nodded, "Yes, and I wonder when I'll find that special person like my sisters have."

"Don't worry, Suzume-nee, if you haven't found the husband when I grow up big and strong like Tou-san, I'll be your husband!"

Suzume turned and looked at the clearly earnest innocent young boy and gave a smile. "That's really sweet, Aki-kun, but being a husband is hard work; you have to do stuff for your girl."

"I'll work as hard as Tou-san does! And what kind of stuff?"

The smile widened and her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Stuff like this." Suddenly she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"EWWW! MUSHY GIRL STUFF!!!!"

Suzume giggled as her cheeks heated slightly. Aki rubbed the spot on his cheek where her lips had touched.

----------------------------------
Spoiler: The PI

Behind them, Kiho Mitsue gathered the remains of her lunch and touched the scrap of paper with a phone number in her pocket. She smiled slightly.

Longstreet-san had been... comfortable.

Still, she needed to do her job. It was time to watch the couple until they broke up to head home. Then start reviewing her notes and draft a preliminary analysis to highlight the data that she needed to develop.

She blinked at the group of picnickers that she was approaching. The little girl there in the Battleship Nagato's lap was clearly either a Yurei or Abyssal with that coloring. Meanwhile a young lady who her Omnioculars was showing as a two-tail kitsune was blushing at the words that a Mizuchi was saying to her as the boy that she was with laughed.

No, wait, that was Harry Potter! She remembered seeing him in the papers when he returned the Honjo Masamune. And then all the international news about Dementor attacks in England.

"Excuse me, Miss."

A tap on the shoulder had her turn... to see a five tail kitsune with a distinctly unamused look on her face. "I'd like to know what you are doing here sniffing around my niece. Auror."

Kiho swallowed slightly. She sensed that trying to bullshit here would be a bad idea.

"Kiho Mitsue, registered magical PI, Ma'am. I was hired to do a background and suitability check on the young lady that my client's grandson has fallen for. That's them at the rubbish bins now, the group with the girl in a wheelchair." Kiho slowly reached into her purse and pulled out the magical registry card that the Tokyo Diet had given to her. The Kitsune silently examined it and then handed it back.

The Kitsune glanced toward Hachiko and Moriko's party and nodded slightly. "I see. I strongly suggest visiting the shrine for those lost in Blood Week. You will find answers there if your contract is what you claim that it is. Now off with you."

Kiho nodded and headed toward the exit to the park. Her magically augmented hearing picked up a soft conversation behind her.

"Was that wise, Haru-san?"

"Perhaps, Juuchi-san, perhaps. But not all problems can be solved with violence."

"That's because you aren't as good at violence as I am."

"Senpai no! You promised to be on your best behavior!"

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

Tsurugaoka Hachimangū, Kamakura

Delilah hefted her space-expanded Hello Kitty purse (actually a transfigured buffalo-hide enchanted backpack that she had used since 1871) and reviewed her mental task list as she left the dojo. She smirked smugly as she made her way down the shrine steps as she ticked off the goals of her perfect in and out pickup mission.

Right, everything that Toku forgot to bring with her to Belgium. Maintenance kit, ofuda, purification supplies, portable shrine, whetstone, sword stand, calligraphy set, and a set of miko robes.

Files about the Reserves handed over to Chisuheri and Honjo. Toku's letters to the other Masamunes given to Honjo who would give them to her sisters. Letter of explanation that she would be delayed delivered to the head priest of the shrine.

I even ran into Aunt Juuchi and Tsukiakari body-guarding their master Harry Potter on the way out of the park. That let me catch up on the real story of the Dementor attack and I let the family know that my idiot elder sister is in hot water up to her neck again. At least I kept the identity and species of the 'escapees from the Aokigahara reserve' suitably vague. Sis does NOT need more trouble, she gets into enough craziness on her own without assistance.
Spoiler: Musashi and Fudo

As she walked past the gold car that now had three parking tickets stuck to the windshield, a crack of displaced air sounded behind her. Instantly her instincts pinged and she tensed slightly as she began to evaluate fire lanes, escape routes, and threats.

Stay covert for now.

She pulled out her cell phone 'to look at the time', angling it to act as a mirror to sweep the area behind her. She blinked as she zeroed in on the two people who had just Apparated in.

The pink-haired one in blue and red with the daisho set looked insufferably happy with herself. The last time she saw that level of smug, it involved Aunt Juuchi and blood oranges.

The other one in the business suit... well.... The last time Deiliah had seen anyone beaten that badly, the person doing the beating was a very angry adult sasquach. She could still remember seeing the face-shaped dents in the redwood tree's hardwood.

Not getting involved. Time to fade and make like a ghost after gathering intel.

With that she took photos of the two as Pinkette slapped the other on a clearly broken shoulder. "Fudō-han! You are slipping! You need to practice more and renew your dedication to the Way. Do not eat so much at meals, let the Way sustain you!"

A weak groan answered her.

Definitely not getting involved with that maniac.

 

[darthcourt10]

NotHimAgain

HOOOOAAAARGH TONBO FEELS
Flash Back: Little Talks
Don't remember.

Don't remember getting the news about Gin-chan, the men who came and stripped the house bare even as Mii cried and pleaded. Don't remember hanging on some stranger's wall, an ornament unearned and undeserved, burning with shame and disgust. Don't remember the people from Whitechapel, long gone. Don't remember the wound of loss getting torn open again, even more cruelly, making sure that no one would ever meet her fate again, the long, long trek across Europe, Russia, all for Mii's sake, don't remember getting there, she died last year, everyone knows what happened so why didn't they do anything no evidence be damned, don't remember sister lying there hurt in meaningless rage don't remember the dark time don't remember grief madness rage guilt empty so empty it hurt hurt hurt hurt hurt HURT STOP IT DON'T REMEMBER DON'T REMEMBER DON'T REMEMBER DON'T REMEMBER—

Footsteps jarred Tonbo from her reverie.

"You… holding down the fort here?" Tatsuya asked, giving her a cautious look.

Yes. She had to focus on the here and now. She had been saved by the Himuras, achieved peace with her sisters, she had to focus on that. Not on the desperate drive to get home only to find out that the last piece of home had been horribly—damn it!

"More or less," she said brightly, giving her master of sorts a cheerful smile. He didn't look convinced in the slightest, but he didn't try to force the issue.

"If you say so. Just…" Okay, not forcing the issue outright. Sometimes, Tonbo forgot that when things went out of control Tatsuya's capacity for sensitivity went with them. "I haven't seen you this way since that whole business with Nameless started."

"What? No, no," Tonbo waved him off. "That's… there's no problems over here. All shipshape and Bristol fashion."

Tatsuya blinked. "What?"

"Huh? Shipshape and Bristol fashion?" An out—she had to capitalize on this now! "Uh… it means everything's alright, not sure where I picked it up, Thomas the Tank Engine maybe."

"Tonbo—"

Don't remember Gin-chan.

"Kid's television, I think there are books, trust me you'd love them, but—"

"Tonbo!"

Don't remember Mii.

Tatsuya's voice came out in a loud bark, and she obliged, slowing and stopping begrudgingly. "Don't pretend to be fine," the boy said, voice and temper a bit hotter than they maybe should have been. "We both know that it's a lie. Just… what did she do to you?"

Oh lovely, she was going to have to be honest now. Don't remember Mary Jane, just don't. Just… focus on what happened right now. On what the HWSotS did right now.

"I, uh…" Tonbo shrugged as best she could, shoulders still pressed down as they were. "I met her in a bad time of my life, and things just… got worse from there. Your ancestor, Ryotaro… we met in the darkest days of my life, and he saved me." Because he had—there was no other way to describe him reaching out and offering her his hand that day, amidst the flames of all the burning warehouses, how did that even happen anyways… how to make him understand what had come before that? "What was the worst day of your life?"

For a moment, Tatsuya was silent. Don't remember lost family. Tonbo had nearly opened her mouth to continue when he spoke up, almost whispering as he did.

"Some kind of shapeshifter took Mamiya's place," he said under his breath. "Didn't figure it out for a week, it actually ended up wanting to be my sister. Had to kill it… her… whatever to save Mamiya, it was wearing her face when I did. Took me months to be sure I'd gotten the right one without having her sing that song to me. Never stopped asking myself if there was another way."

And now Tonbo felt like a hypocrite.

"Ah," she said, guilt welling up again. "I… I'm sorry—"

"Don't be," Tatsuya replied heavily. "Even if I could have, there's no way to fix what happened. I just have to live with it. And…" he smiled, sadly and wistfully. "Even if no one else knew what was going on, Benio was there to help me through it. I don't know if—sometimes, I wonder if I could go on without her." Pausing, Tatsuya glanced back at Tonbo. "You didn't have a Benio, did you."

A statement, not a question. Because he already knew the answer.

"Not before Ryotaro," she admitted. "The ones that weren't dead, I'd driven away. I mean, I thought I'd driven them away. After that business with Chisuheri, I couldn't face them for the shame. I guess I just…" Don't remember the haze clearing away, seeing the results of meaningless violence clearly. "Shit," she mumbled under her breath. "I was… I was pretty much dead those days."

Tatsuya looked away, and Tonbo felt any satisfaction in her little game of misery poker fall away. As if that was ever real in the first place.

Then he turned to face her. "Well…" he said uncomfortably, clearly outside his area of expertise. "You're better now. And you've got us—me, Benio, Reiko, even kind of Miyuki. Sometimes. So… we're here if you need us?"

Tonbo blinked, and the vision of the taller, lithe man with a confident grin vanished. Tatsuya was back, with his awkward how-am-I-doing smile. She nodded slowly, and he sighed with relief, slouching into an easier posture.

"Great," he said emphatically. "I'm going to head back to the council of war. You want to come, or are you fine over here?"

Chewing on her lip briefly, Tonbo mustered a cocky smile. "I'll be over in a minute," she said. "Just give me a moment to pull myself back together."

…

Remember.

Remember Ryotaro, offering friendship, compassion, family. Remember frantic little Eiko, fussing around and making sure everything was alright, everyone eating well in spite of being well into her second trimester. Remember Tatsu, always haring around like a maniac, loving life because what else was he supposed to do. Remember Ryuga, pulling himself from the ashes of a lost love, rebuilding his life, trying to blunder his way through being a father to Yohko. Remember Yohko, smile just as bright as the first day she ever did. Remember the here and now, the silly little band of warriors and children, somehow coming through every time it was asked of them.

Remember Gin-chan, strong, proud, unwavering. Remember Mary Jane, the friendship that she somehow offered. Remember Mii, affectionate, loving, fighting for each day of her life, a joyful smile that always gave her the energy for that one last push.

Remember.
-----

And next time, maybe we'll actually move the story forward.

Well what do you think, sirs?

 

[darthcourt10]

RCNAnon

Weasley's Warship Workshop 5
Abyssal interlude

Several weeks after Jean-Bart's arrival at Passell house.

Summer hummed happily to herself as she worked. The Yardmaster was gone away at school still but with the magical letter box they were sending lots of notes back and forth now. It was almost enough to make up for the fact that he was gone. It was nice to have projects to work on that weren't mindless drudgery but she still missed him.

Thankfully there were more people around the base that she could go be not lonely with for a while. Victoria was still around, she never seemed to leave as far as Summer could tell and that was fine. Lara, the new not-Victoria, was friendly if a bit loud and she could carry the big trays of food that Summer liked to eat without an issue. She smelled a bit funny but Summer didn't mind since she was nice and didn't bother her while she was working. Xath was a funny man who dressed in strange clothes and told stranger stories but Victoria and the Yardmaster had said he was just old. He smelled a bit like gunpowder to Summer which was weird since he didn't seem to use gunpowder when he went and played in the dirt all day.

In the end it didn't really matter because the Yardmaster said they were fine and if the Yardmaster said they were fine then everything was ok.

Summer was currently happy because the brace for the Battleship Princess' keel had finally come in. Summer was glad her Yardmaster had thought of the idea because she would have simply put her in dry dock and had to painstakingly welded it back together and braced it as best she could. The Yardmaster had reminded her that the squishy bits could fix themselves if they let them and then he could do some of his whoosh stuff and make it all better. Summer liked it when the Yardmaster told her about the whooshing he learned, especially when it helped with engineering properly. Like the hour glass that made time go backwards so you could work more, that was useful.

She wasn't sure why she couldn't tell everyone the Yardmaster used it as much as he could but he was the Yardmaster so he could do that and she didn't care nor would she tell anyone.

The one thing she could do at this point was to fit it to the Battleship Princess properly because that would make it easier for the Yardmaster to put some whoosh on it so she could get fixed properly. Summer wasn't sure why they needed to fix her like that since she was a meanie but the Yardmaster said they weren't supposed to scrap ships who surrendered. Summer supposed that made sense but she wasn't sure about expending the resources to fix this one. Though it was a bit funny that she was essentially a giant cargo ship with armor at this point. One that had to be moved around carefully on rollers since she was fragile.

Still humming, she took the back brace and headed to go get the grumpy Princess.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Brigid was bored. Bored and nervous, which made a bad combination. She'd plotted her escape from stem to stern more times than she could count, enough that she got annoyed at herself for thinking about it even more. Aside from that she had almost nothing else to do, what with her refusing to even talk with her captors. That accounted for the boredom.

Her nerves came from the fact that the fleet around the house she was at was constantly changing. The biggest change had been the half complete battleship with a strange accent that had come over and spent the night several times before leaving again back to wherever she came from. She was easy to notice coming since she had a two wheeled vehicle that made an awful noise.

The rest were not so easy as the humans had recently installed some sort of door that let them move ships long distances quickly. She had no idea how it worked but they'd taken her from this location to the naval base she'd originally been interred at in only the matter of a few minutes. The thoughts she'd had about the potential capabilities of a fleet with that sort of advantage were terrifying in a number of ways and she hoped to destroy the thing during her escape.

That would be easier said than done as she was generally kept close watch on, always with one ship girl or another nearby and often that traitor installation as well. She'd not gotten the chance to be alone with her quite yet and she was getting more and more frustrated. Surely just a little bit of time with her would be enough for Brigid to make her understand who was really in charge. At least when they were alone together.

Thankfully today seemed to be one of the days when nobody was around except for the permanent residents. The new humans she could dismiss, as they were easily squashed when she was ready. The head human needed to be watched though, Brigid had determined that she at least had some power she wasn't aware of.

Her guard today was the blonde one, who sang and hummed and all sorts of inane things that Brigid absolutely despised. She preferred the dark haired one who was quiet, though the stare that she sometimes gave could give Brigid the willies as she thought of torpedo's slamming into her already vulnerable keel.

Pondering another day of boredom and captivity, Brigid was looked up at the sound of the door opening. The traitor installation was there, carrying something in her hands.

"Time for fitting." She said, as if Brigid truly gave a damn about what she thought.

Brigid at least grunted in return, since she'd learned that she had to acknowledge a statement to have the dumb installation go onto the next part. Thankfully that was enough and the installation along with the blonde destroyer came in. The destroyer took the handles of the device, the wheelchair, that she'd been put in and started talking to the installation. She did her best to tune it out, as things like "chocolate" and "video games" meant little to her and she didn't want them to. Not if they came from the blonde idiot.

As they passed through the last room in the house, the one in the back where the head human prepared meals her escort paused and sniffed the air. Her meals were paltry things, enough to keep her in maintenance and not to regrow her stocks of fuel or ammo. They kept careful track of that, what with the imps and fairies that weren't hers still in important areas. They would need to be dealt with in time too.

The rest of the house ate heartily and well, with all sorts of guests around getting somewhat individualized meals. Which made her hate them even more. Still, she did notice when the idiot blond spoke to the not an idiot somewhat blonde.

"Ooh, are those chocolate chip cookies Victoria?"

"Yes they are Ardent. Would you like some?" Victoria, the human she needed to watch out for, smiled at the destroyer even as her eyes met Brigid's for a moment. Brigid didn't like that look, though she didn't flinch away. It was the only thing she could do in return.

"Yes!" The blonde idiot behind her was all to easily excited about things. "Summer do you mind?"

There was no audible response but Brigid could feel the blonde let go of the handles and the installation take them. Then they were moving… and the blonde was still in the kitchen!

Brigid felt her breath catch for a moment. Could this be her chance? She did her best to control her features as they went outside and then to the repair building. She might only have a few moments but it would need to do, she'd never even had this much of a chance before.

Brigid smiled, utterly certain that she could get started on her escape plan with the installation.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Summer was humming to herself as she pushed the Meanie Princess into the repair room they'd reserved for abyssals. She wasn't sure when it had happened but they always used this one and now there was a sign outside for it. That made her happy, as things should always have a place.

Once inside she let go of the handles and knelt down to get the back brace ready. It would be a simple thing, what with it being sized mostly appropriately but "mostly" wasn't good enough for her work. It either was or it wasn't and this one wasn't.

She didn't look up as the wheels of the Meanie's chair squeaked, not at least until she felt a sharp tug on her hair.

"Ow!" She said, more out of surprise than any real pain. It was nothing compared to some of the only sort of remembered beatings she'd had before but it caused her to look up.

Meanie Princess had her hair in hand and was looking even meaner than normal, which Summer didn't like.

"Listen up you traitorous bitch, things are going to change around here." Meanie Princess' voice was darker than normal, anger flooding it. "You're going to fix my keel, undo whatever it is you did to my guns and help me get out of here."

Summer blinked. No she wasn't. That wasn't what the Yardmaster said.

"The Yardmaster said..." She was interrupted as the Meanie Princess' other hand smacked her across the cheek.

"I'm in charge here you idiot, not your Yardmaster. You. Are. Going. To. Fix. Me."

Summer wasn't sure why the other abyssal was speaking funny, she could understand her just fine. She still wasn't going to do what she said.

"The Yardmast..." She didn't even get finished speaking the Yardmaster's name before she got hit again.

"If you even speak the little pipsqueaks name one more time, the next time I see him I'm going to wring his scrawny neck and..."

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Brigid's first clue that her plan wasn't going how she thought was when the installation's eyes went flat and then began to flame.

Her second clue was when a metal covered hand slammed into her fleshy throat and began to squeeze with all the power of an industrial vice.

The impact was enough to cause her to choke, at least try to choke as her body fought to clear her airways but utterly failed under the pressure the installation was putting on it. She could feel the metal points of the fingers digging into the soft flesh there, beads of oil and black blood pooling against them. It was funny how you could notice just how fragile things were in moments of panic.

Her hands both jumped to her neck to try and pry the hand off but she might as well have been an ant trying to stop itself from being crushed. She even tried scratching at the arm that was holding her but again she might as well have been clawing at the side of a mountain for all the good it did.

Then the installation stood, taking her up as well. The arm didn't move, it might as well have been a structural girder for all the strain it showed. Brigid's lower body came up out of the chair, her legs kicking weakly as her hands now clung to her captors arm for dear life, trying to not choke herself even more.

Of course the worse bit were the eyes. The eyes that were looking straight into hers without a shred of emotion. The flaming blue orbs which she would have preferred look at her like a barnacle or perhaps a bit of slime, that would have at least been disgust or disdain.

No.

All she got from them was the pure, utter loathing that went so deep as to give even her a chill, that could only come from the abyss itself.

The installation held her up in the air, those eyes staring at her own as if to get at her soul. The realization of just how tall she was seemed to come at random, her eyes looking down in terror and wondering if that fall would break her back again.

The installation, Summer she now forced herself to think in a desperate attempt for anything that might gain her an ounce of sympathy, stared at her for what seemed like eternity before speaking.

"If you attempt to harm the Yardmaster I will break you."

It wasn't a threat, it was a promise and Brigid wished she could respond to it in any manner aside from limply kicking and trying not to black out from lack of air intake. She also had no problems imagining just what Summer would break. It would be so simple for an installation to snap her keel again.

"I̸f̵ ̶y̴o̴u̶ ̸h̷a̵r̴m̷ ̷t̵h̵e̴ ̴Y̶a̷r̶d̵m̷a̶s̷t̴e̸r̵ ̴I̴ ̵w̷i̶l̸l̶ ̶k̸i̸l̷l̴ ̶y̵o̶u̵.̴"

If the first had been a promise this was a solemn oath, sworn with all of Summer's heart. Brigid could hear the abyss growing in her voice and she desperately hoped that Summer didn't give in because she suddenly realized how very much she didn't want to die.

"Ȉ̷͉f̵̼͊ ̵͎̕y̵̙̎o̴͓͂ų̵̃ ̴̺̈́K̶̠̾I̵͉͠L̵͔̍L̴̙͊ ̵̪̈́t̴̖͝h̸͉̽ę̴͛ ̴̎͜Y̷̤̕a̴̙̾r̵̨̓d̴̞͐m̵̥̀á̵̳s̵̥͐ť̷̢e̶̼͗r̷̜͒ ̶̫̔Í̵̳ ̷͉͝w̵̄͜ỉ̴̻l̸̺̊l̴̡̋ ̶̺̇N̷̟͐O̷̪͊T̶͔̓ ̷͙̌k̶̙̚ȋ̸̡ĺ̴̤l̸̨͘ ̷̯͝y̷̼̎o̴̢͛u̸̪͛.̶̨͘"

Brigid's mind scrambled for an answer on why that would be, only for Summer to inform her after a definite pause to allow her to feel that fear properly, her voice getting even worse to Brigid's senses.

"If you KILL the Yardmaster I will abrade the armor off of your hull until I can see your structural members and then feed the shavings into your boilers while they are running. When they don't work anymore I'll rip them out and show them to you."

Brigid's mind tried to comprehend the pain that would cause and utterly failed, she'd never even heard of something like that. It was only made worse by how utterly powerless she was in that moment. Thankfully Summer's voice had pulled back from the abyss slightly, if only so she could understand what would happen to her better.

"When my assistant electrician's install your new boiler, I will start to get creative on your structural members. When I am finished, my administrative staff will plate whatever is left over until it can float. It will be used as live target practice until my gunners wear out their barrels. Twice."

Brigid felt like gibbering at that point, the abyss filled eyes staring straight through her as the voice spoke of unending pain and humiliation. Then the turn from "her" to "it"… there was no hope Summer would let her sink if what she said came to pass even if she would otherwise be a wreck.

"When THAT is finished I will give you to the Royal Navy for whatever they deem fit. Duke and Warspite will be angry."

Brigid had a feeling that whatever the ship girls did to her at that point would probably be a mercy but she couldn't be sure, not when she was still more terrified than she'd ever been in her life and thinking about what she'd just been told.

"Do you wish to harm the Yardmaster?"

Finally a question, something she could answer!

Summer's hand relaxed just enough so that Brigid could wiggle her head from side to side. Then a little bit more and she knew what Summer wanted.

"No!" She managed to rasp out with the tiny bit of air she was allowed. "No!"

The abyss filled eyes stared at her for a few more seconds before they finally started to relent and Brigid felt herself lowering. All of six inches before Summer's hand let go and she fell to the floor.

Her legs couldn't have supported her even if she'd had the mind to catch herself so she went sprawling, her back slamming to the ground and pain filling her being as she landed in a pool of her own bilge water she hadn't even recognized she'd let out. As she arched in pain, she could hear Summer moving around and she desperately hoped that she wasn't about to start hitting her.

Thankfully the blows never came and Brigid attempted to move, slowly. Her keel felt like it had snapped again but her engineering team informed her it hadn't, not quite. Instead it was simply stressed and she would need to be careful and hope Summer healed her again. She managed to raise her head, looking to see where the Installation Princess was.

She was several feet away, breathing heavily with her arms wrapped around herself. Brigid could hear muttering but she couldn't quite make it out. Especially not with the occasional sob thrown in.

Of course it was then that the door opened and the blonde idiot stepped in.

"Hey Summer Victoria said..." Of course she wasn't that much of an idiot and she immediately noticed the scene.

"Oy, what happened?" Brigid felt a chill at the destroyer's tone, definitely directed at her.

Brigid looked between the destroyer and Summer, who had looked up. She wasn't sure if Summer was going to respond so she did instead.

"I fell. Scared Summer." Her voice was as pleasant as she could make it, still in pain as she was.

The blonde destroyer looked at her with disbelieving eyes and turned to look at Summer. Summer in turn had looked at her. They were back to normal… except for a part down in the very core that Brigid could tell was still watching her with suspicion.

"S-she fell. I'm… I'm okay Ardent." Summer's words seemed to mollify the destroyer a little bit.

"Okay." She said, looking between the two once more. "I'm going to stay on this side of the door for a while though."

Summer nodded and finally stood. She loomed over Brigid and Brigid couldn't help but brace herself slightly. Thankfully she was simply scooped up and carried into the pool, where she was devoutly thankful for the healing properties of the water.

She didn't even complain when Summer began to put the torture device on her, it surely couldn't be all that bad compared to what might otherwise happen.

As she worked, Summer leaned close.

"The Yardmaster says you get fixed. So you get fixed." The whisper conveyed what Summer thought perfectly. If it had been up to her, Brigid would probably be broken right now. Instead she found herself thankful that the scrawny redhead had such a hold on Summer that she would obey even when he wasn't there.

Of course now she was wondering why that was the case…

Brigid sighed and then gasped as Summer began to tighten the brace. At least it would give her something else to think about.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Supper was served as a group that night, the three humans and three returned naval beings sharing a table. Of course, Victoria was serving everyone since she'd prepared the meal.

Seated at the edge of the table as she was, Brigid got served last before Victoria herself. As Victoria scooped the food, Brigid noticed it was a bit more than she usually got and wondered why for a moment. One blissful moment.

"I will help her." Came a whisper to her ear, like a knife pressed to her kidney. Brigid tensed and her eyes moved as far to the left as they could, only to see the ghost of a smile on the maids face. Then she was gone and Brigid was left wondering just how the maid knew about what happened.

It would give her something else to think on, along with the redheaded boy and her need to reevaluate her escape plans.

The humans and the destroyer said a prayer for thanks and Summer bowed her head. Brigid normally didn't but after a healthy serving of humble pie she decided discretion was the better part of valor and followed suit.

She didn't say anything but afterwards her meal seemed to taste much better than it had before. It was probably because she actually was thankful to have it.

One more thing to think on.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

AN: Another big one. Hope you all enjoyed this reminder that Summer is an abyssal and Brigid's first realization that perhaps she's not actually in a position to do very much unless she starts you know, behaving.

Questions, comments, concerns welcome as always.

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

Dove at a Dinner Party: Part The Sixth

A Comedy of Ill-Manners, Shocking French 'Customs', and a Fire in the Rubbish Skip

Passel House

Saturday, May 13th, 1899
Spoiler: Challenge Offered...

Slowly Corvus Lestrange IV, heir of the French Lestrange family, reached up to touch the red mark on his right cheek where Colombe d'Aubigny-Muramasa du Chastler had just slapped it. His face darkened and he hissed, "Very well, Miss du Chasteler. I demand a duel arcane to teach you your place, you frigid mannish slattern!"

"And I accept, Lestrange. To death or yielding then?" Colombe's voice was tightly controlled as her blue eyes blazed.

"Acceptable. Colonel Gamp, I politely request the use of your garden for me to demonstrate my superiority."

The two looked over and paused, as the Colonel's florid face turned ashen. His one remaining hand scrabbled at his collar in attempt to get air and then fell limp. A rattling gurgle sounded as the Colonel's tuberculosis-ravaged lungs breathed his last thanks to the heart attack caused by ill health, diet, alcohol, tobacco use, and stress.

Colombe automatically crossed herself and bowed her head. "He was a good man."

The other guests and family followed suit.

"That still leaves our duel unresolved, Lestrange." Colombe's eyes shimmered with tears as she took a deep breath, "I do not want to impose on the Gamps in their time of grief, especially considering how much I owe the late Colonel."

"You can use Potter Manor's grounds." Lyra spoke up. "In fact, I demand it."

Everyone looked at her. Ian gave her a tilt of the head which Lyra automatically interpreted as "are you sure that this is a wise idea, dear?" as she nodded fractionally in response.

"I support my wife's decision. Since neither of you have been to my home before, we shall Apparate you both along with any witnesses who wish to participate." Ian spoke firmly as he walked to approach Corvus.

Colombe nodded and spoke in a cold controlled voice. "Satisfactory. Just let me retrieve my traveling valise from the guest room."

Lestrange nodded. "I shall see you there Miss du Chasteler."

----------------------------------
Spoiler: A Promise

Lyra followed Colombe upstairs to find the tsukumogami, now dressed in breeches and a shirt, staring at her blade as it lay on the bed.

A etching of a dove on her blade was glowing with a gentle white light that illuminated her tear-stained face as she cried helplessly.

The brunette witch placed her hand gently on the blonde's shoulder.

Colombe started and turned her head to face Lyra.

Lyra leaned in and caught Colombe's eyes with her gentle stare. Understanding, sympathy, respect, and love were there in the depths of that smouldering green gaze. Pain, self-hatred, regret, doubt, and anguish filled the crystal blue that Lyra gazed into.

Lyra leaned in and caught the blonde's lips in a heartfelt passionate kiss. Colombe groaned deep in her throat and shivered as Lyra's tongue fenced with hers, telling her without words what was in this woman's wonderful heart.

Lyra had begun to understand, she could know what Colombe had done, what Colombe had done to her... and she would care and accept her bleeding and battered soul regardless. That no matter how hard and dark the road ahead would be that she must tread, that she would not have to walk it alone. Never alone, not any more.

"Live. For me. For us. Promise me?" Lyra whispered gently as she cupped Colombe's cheek as their kiss broke.

Colombe shivered and the etching began to pulse with the tempo of her heartbeat. She nodded slowly and whispered back. "Oui, je jure ma parole et mon serment."

Lyra smiled. "Good, now that's settled, there's a rapist you need to humiliate. Promise me that you won't kill him and get into trouble, but..."

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

Potter Estate

Saturday, May 13th, 1899
Spoiler: Potter House Gardens

With a crack of displaced air, Colombe and Lyra appeared at the entrance to a hedge maze. Lyra smiled and then gestured to the entrance. "Follow me, please."

Colombe walked through the twists and turns after her friend - soon to be more! - and emerged in a circular courtyard surrounded by a hedge and with shorter hedges that spelled out 'POTTER' with entrances between them. In the center was a granite statue of a wizard leaning on a staff with intricate runes on the plinth.

Lyra smirked at Colombe as she paused at the entrance to see Corvus and Ian across from her. "The courtyard is warded to contain the energies of a duel arcane. Just channel your power into the statue to raise the wards and in order to yield release the spell you are sustaining on the statue.

Colombe rolled her neck. "Thank you Lyra. For... for everything."

Lyra stepped back. "I'll wait for you here."

Colombe stepped into the arena of combat and drew herself.

Crystal blue witchfire glimmered from her blade as she incanted in her mother tongue and formed a ball of energies in front of her. Across from her, Corvus' silver and aspen wand glimmered in turn as his own energies were gathered.

As she released the ball of energies into the statue, the hedge in a semicircle behind her blazed a crystal blue. Corvus in turn did so and his own hedge glowed a dark blue-purple, the iridescent color of a raven's wing.

The statue's eyes opened and he banged his staff thrice on the stone of the plinth. "Ye have challenged each other to trial by combat according to the ancient laws and traditions of magick! Then let ye do battle and may God defend the right!"
Spoiler: A Duel at Potter House

Corvus flicked his wand and a trio of fireballs screamed at Colombe only to be absorbed by a shimmering silver wall at a gesture from her. The rapier grinned smugly and flicked her rapier tip in an intricate sinuous motion as she whispered in Latin and a blue aura surrounded her.

A second hex flew at Colombe and was deflected as she gestured and a crimson aura surrounded her blade. The smug smile increased and got considerably nastier.

"My turn, Lestrange." There was a crack of displaced air as Colombe appeared to vibrate in place.

Half of Corvus's mustache fell from his suddenly shaved clean lip.

"Don't like it when the shoe is on the other foot, do you?" Colombe said conversationally as Hell began to dance in her merciless blue eyes.

A lightning bolt answered her, but Colombe blurred away from the crater it blasted in the bricks. A ripping sounded, and the freshly cut cloth of his right sleeve fell from his shoulder to pool around his wand wrist.

The wizard's eyes widened and he gestured frantically to form a spinning shield of razor sharp energies around him. Another ripping sound happened and his left sleeve disintegrated in ribbons of shorn cloth as Colombe blurred for an instant in his sight.

"DIE!" A bolt of crimson energies lashed out at Colombe... and then his left pant leg fell to the ground.

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

Lyra licked her lips as Colombe toyed with Corvus like a cat with a mouse. The sweating French wizard was now shirtless and only the bare remains of his trousers were holding onto his dignity.

Colombe circled him as he cast spell after spell at her. "Yield or die, Lestrange, and I am getting tired of my little game. I suppose that I will have to end you..."

Frantically he jabbed his wand at her as his lips moved soundlessly.

Colombe's rapier point drooped and she blinked several times... and then it raised. "Oh, you didn't..." she hissed venomously.

Another blur and the final scraps of cloth on his body fell to the ground, followed by the pieces of his wand. Blood spurted from a slash on his right wrist as his hand spasmed uncontrollably. He crashed to the ground with two cut hamstrings as Colombe leveled her now bloody blade at his eyes. With an acrid stink, he lost bladder control.

Lestrange suddenly screamed, the blue-purple energies flickered out, and the statue banged its staff. "I YIELD!"

Colombe breathed deeply, and the aura around her flickered out. She slowly walked to within sword reach of the trembling wizard and slowly dimpled the skin over his Adam's apple with her swordpoint.

"If I ever hear of you using that spell on anyone, or even suspect it, I'll hunt you down and next time it won't be your clothes that I cut to ribbons an inch at a time, Lestrange. Comprend moi?"

He whispered. "Oui, je te comprends."

"Now get out of my sight before I change my mind."

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts Omake: Like Father, like Daughter...

Just an omake that I made due to what Yellowhammer wrote recently...
____________________________________________

Looking out the window of her small home, Yüying sighed softly. Hearing quick footsteps coming down the stairs, the Chinese fox spirit turned and sighed, "Daughter, do take your time."

There was a pause before another fox spirit with steely grey eyes and blond hair, though obviously half-Chinese walked around the corner and bowed, "Sorry, Mother. I apologize for it, but I just received word on something important." A familiar look of determination crossed her face as she clenched her fist, "She was spotted in Japan."

Eyebrow raising, Yüying blinked, "Japan? Whatever was Colombe doing in Japan?"

Lips curling into a smirk, her daughter took some food and bit into it, "From the report from the Magical Diet? Apparently breaking out 'Dangerous creatures' from a Reserve there. And killing two Aurors in the process. But... you know how much I trust that."

Her mother snorted some, "Very little. And with good reason." A sigh escaped from Yüying as she shook her head. "You are going, I take it?"

For a few moments, the other was quiet before she nodded, "I am. After all, I am one of the best experts on her. This is also my chance to track her down finally."

Somewhat amused, Yüying walked over and gently kissed the taller spirit's forehead after getting up on her toes. Patting her cheek, she sighed, "You do realize that even if we were to meet, it was... a fling, between us. We have both moved on."

Her eyes meeting that of her mother, the younger of the two nodded, "I know. But... I still want to catch her and also be able to prove that she is not the criminal that many seem to think." Pulling a badge out and clipping it onto her robes, she paused as she looked at a picture of her in a familiar red uniform from Canada, except with a cloak over it, "And you forget, I am RCMMP, and we always get our being."

Only shaking her head, Yüying chuckled as she watched her daughter place a Dao into a hidden holster of her belt. Following her daughter to the door, she remembered a time decades before. When a European blade spirit helped her out of China. That last night before their final fight to the boat and how they tumbled on the bed. Finding in the morning that it had knocked Colombe's blade free of her sheath and putting it back before the other noticed.

And then nine months later...

Softly smiling, she gave her daughter one last nod as she left, "Good luck in finding your Father, my child..."

 

[darthcourt10]

K9Thefirst1 Omake: Eiji will not bend

Harry Leferts said:
Chances on Jackie hitting on her without realizing who she is?

I am now imagining her meeting @K9Thefirst1's Javert expy in Japan shortly after the war. The two of them heavily disagree on their viewpoints though they can respect the other's duty to justice. The Javert-expy for example sees someone performing a criminal action as the end all point, it does not matter why they did it. Ying, meanwhile, judges more on the "Why" behind it, because the why let's you understand the reason behind the crime.

For example, a young Yokai during the occupation steals some food to feed his younger siblings. The Javert-Expy would be stating that one should throw him in jail/the reserves for stealing. Ying would argue that the younger siblings were starving does mean some leniency should be given, but one should look at why they were starving because they should have gotten rations. And in doing so, she uncovers that some people in the rationing system was holding back on rations for themselves and their own families.​

Resulting in the two of them breaking up the fraud ring and putting the perpetrator's in jail... Only for Ying to realize to late that Eiji Yamamoto (Javert-san) had also sent the thief and his siblings to the reserves.

Eiji: For one thing, the boy was a thief. For the others, they were all unregistered. The Law is The Law.

Ying: You can't really believe that, you've seen what those places are like!

Eiji: What I think is irrelevant. What you think is irrelevant. We are the enforcers of the law, agents of our governments to ensure the preservation of the Greater Good. To defy the very laws of the land, or worse do so publicly, the very fabric of society would collapse. I do not know how it may be in your homeland Auror Wei, but here Order and Stability and the Rule of Law is in command, not the Rule of Passion.

Ying: *blood pressure intensifies*

Hmmm...

It would not have been established until the late 1860s at the least earliest. The thing to remember is that before Confederation in 1867, "Canada" was several colonies and thus would not have had the population to have a school. You had Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Upper Canada (Southern Ontario), and Lower Canada (Quebec). Prince Edward Island joined in the 1870s and Rupert's Land was sold to Canada around the same time period, and various provinces came from that.​

And I think I recall Newfoundland didn't join the Confederation until after WWII, right?

Well, then building a magical school of their own if only to prevent possible problems from Ilvermony makes sense...​

And no doubt MACUSA is the biggest reasons that their school is not officially recognized. And I can imagine that MACUSA's departments that hire international Aurors are notably lacking in Canadians due to almost none of them are "accredited by an institution recognized as sound by the ICW." Meanwhile the Magical Canadian versions of those same departments, MACUSA citizens are the least numerous.

Does this mean that MACUSA give Canadians grief during customs due to Canada refusing to cooperate about Ilvernomy? Do Canadian's who send their kids to school in MACUSA get seen as snobs or as obnoxious types because they don't send their kids to Canada's version of Hogwarts, and thus are able to get jobs in the ICW and international organizations?

My word. On the Mundane side, the US and Canada are some of the closest friends that also share a border. On the Magical side, MACUSA and... what's a good term for the Magical Canadian Government? Arcadia? Anyway, on the magical side MACUSA and the CMoM are basically Not!England and Not!Scotland before the Stewart Dynasty inherited the crown.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts/K9Thefirst1 Omake: Eiji's reaction

Harry Leferts said:
Ying: Can I help you?

Eiji: I just received word that you removed the Yokai from the Reserve! After they broke the law!

Ying: Hmm... ah, yes, that's right. Both I and Auror Andrews here... *Gestures at a fellow RCMMP Officer* had to meet them for a final interview. Rather tough but we managed it. At the interview, they requested asylum in Canada. As per the 1870 Canadian Being Asylum Act, if a magical being is under heavy harassment, discrimination, or danger due to their heritage, they can request asylum in Canada. Brought about due to the amount of Magical Beings that fled from MACUSA. As a representative of His Majesty's Magical Canadian Parliament, I had to listen to their request and accept it until such time that the Canadian Magical Government actually can review it.

Eiji: They broke the law!

Ying: They did. But here is the thing, Eiji-San. If they were human, they would have gotten maybe a few months, maybe less. But due to being Yokai, you gave them a life sentence, possibly a death sentence. And that is a huge difference based simply on the fact that they are not human. Ergo, I had to obey the laws that I represent in this case. I am sure that you understand that the law is the law as you told me. I believe...*Checks watch* They landed in Canada three hours ago.

Andrew: *Coughs to cover up snickers as Eiji's blood pressure spikes*​

Hmmm.... I dunno...

Eiji: *clenches his jaw a few times... then relaxes as if a switch is flipped.*

Ying & Andrews: *Andrews stops laughing as they both grow confused*

Eiji: May I see the documentation? If what you say is true, then those Yokai are well and truly your problem. If you are lying, things will be very difficult for you.

Ying: *hesitantly pulls out a sheet of paper, covered with legal jargon and Very Official Signatures, the ink from the quills still wet, and hands it to him*

Eiji: *reads it* I see. This all looks to be in order. Thank you both for your time. I apologize for the trouble. I wish you both a good day. *bows, and leaves*

Andrews: So... do you feel cockblocked too?

Ying: I know... If we won... Why do I feel like I lost?

Andrews: I donna... Do you think that guy's a... What do the Muggles call them again? Robot?


*shrugs* Hey, Eiji's world revolves around what is and is not legal. What Ying did was 100% lawful, and all her i's were dotted and her T's crossed. Having him fly off the handle or basically turn to Umbrige when her plans go awry feels... Out of Character.

Besides, with all the antagonists that sow the seeds of their own downfall by getting emotional, I think it would be funny if the good guys beat him at his own game, expecting an impotent temper tantrum and... He just shrugs his shoulders and goes about his day as if nothing happened.

 

[darthcourt10]

taalismn Omake: Hornet's annual delivery

"Hornet? Whatcha doing?"

The carrier-girl in question was staring up at the sky intently.

"Ah, Hornet?"

Hornet still took no notice of her questioner.

Then, just as the questioning shipgirl was about to burst with curiosity, it happened.

Hornet smiled. "Ah, -there-!" She held up her hand into the wide open sky.

Descending from the blue came a small set of three orange parachutes. As they came nearer, it could be seen that the parachutes were suspending a tiny conical capsule.

The little descender dropped neatly into Hornet's outstretched hand. Hornet quickly caught up the little parachutes, folded them up, then tucked the capsule under her flight deck before turning to her companion.

"Hornet, what was that-?"

Hornet smiled again, a smile of utter enchantment. "Moondust."

She then turned and skipped away, leaving her questioner standing gaping in confusion.

Finally Wasp took pity on the shipgirl standing there looking at the retreating back of the other carrier girl.

"Happens every year on July 24th. Don't worry about it."

 

[darthcourt10]

Digital Historian

The Dutch shipgirls are not imune to a bit of crazy shennanigans, have a short omake:

"You were selling WHAT!" The angry chorus of feminine voices blasted through Den Helder naval base with the volume of a foghorn. Around the site, faces turned towards the main administrative building in sympathy. While they wanted nothing to do with this shipgirl-induced madness, that didn't mean they couldn't pity the man at the centre of the outburst.

"Ladies, please. We were unaware it would be so offensive to you. But we weren't selling them for profit…" Admiral Schippers tried his best to calm down the irate force of destroyers and cruisers that had invaded his office, yelling about "indecency" and "how Lewd" and "perverted officials". The phrase "even innocent destroyers aren't safe" was thrown around quite a bit as well.

The response almost burst his eardrums. "That does not make it any better! Practically giving away our very blueprints to anyone who wants them! Letting people study our shapes in detail for a handful of euro's!"

While the ranting continued, the admiral made mental note to have a serious talk with the historical section of the navy for their great plan of providing blueprints to modelmakers online.


Prompted by my discovery that, the Royal Netherlands Navy indeed sells modeller's blueprints of its ships, both historical and in active service.

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Butterknife Mountie Leaves Home

Wei Family Home, Chinatown, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada

Wei Ying headed across the stone-inlaid courtyard in her family's siheyuan home compound, with a faint smile. Talking to Mother always enlivened her spirit.

Her first steps and first memories of life had taken place here, and she remembered Mother teaching her and her brother the basics of her family style of martial arts as if it was yesterday. With that, she paused in the center of the courtyard and bowed, before drawing her true self with a flash of steel. She spared a smile for two elementary-school age boys watching her from a sunny spot as they did their schoolwork

"Xiaobo, Chonglin, your Grandaunt needs to use the courtyard to practice. Do not move from where you are until she is done."

"Yes, Gūpó." Her great-great-great-grandnephews chorused as they watched the young-seeming woman stand like a statue as she focused on her breathing.
Spoiler: Sword Practice

She blurred into a taolu sparring stance, and suddenly flashed forward with the speed and power of Great Ancestor Fist. Her feet gripped the ground like a tiger's paws as her blade, feet, and clawed hand flickered in attacks and defenses.

Backflipping and spinning into the air to reverse herself as she reached the courtyard wall to kick off it, she landed in Arhat Fist style, with her feet in a horse stance. Instantly, she advanced again across the courtyard in her spar in a whirlwind of deceptive attacks and flashing steel. Her hands and saber moved like a dragon playing with the waters it controlled before a sudden shift into White Crane where she used her forearms to deflect and block blows as her saber 'pecked' the invisible opponent in precise strikes. Her feet seemed to glide across the stone rather than touching it in the precise delicate movements of Crane footwork.

Suddenly she rolled forward to the far wall and ran up the stones of it in Monkey style before tumbling. Her hand and saber feinted and flashed in open-palmed slaps and deceptive feints within feints, shifting the blade back and forth between hands as she rolled, tumbled, and dropped to the ground to fight prone. Suddenly she shifted yet again, redirecting invisible attacks and turning them back upon her foe in Xuan Nu Quan's soft counters and defensive techniques. Her body moved with the suppleness and flexibility of green bamboo in a breeze as she moved back to the center of the courtyard where she had started.

Finally she blurred into motion, her open hand redirecting an attack into a throw before her saber lunged to skewer the helpless flying body of her foe. She then performed the motions to clean off her dao as she resheathed it and bowed.

"Gūpó, that was amazing!" Chonglin spoke as his older brother nodded.

Ying gave them a warm smile. "It is the fruit of practice, study, and dedication. Your Năinăi taught me when I was as young as you are and I have taken her teachings to heart. If you are respectful and impress her with your dedication and eagerness, I am certain that she will help you find your own mastery of self to master your body in turn. Five Ancestor Style is the harmony of my mind, my emotions, and my soul with Heaven and Earth. Such was the first lesson that she taught me."

With that she walked over to her nephews and hugged both. "But do not neglect your schooling outside the family! As boring as it may seem, you must exercise your minds as well as your bodies. Now, I must go to tend to a personal matter."

She walked to the family altar and lit a stick of incense in front of the tablet with the enshrined name of her long-dead stepfather. "Fuhchàn, it is your Little Fox." She bowed her head. "I go now to find my birth father, please watch over me and guide my travels."

A second stick of incense was lit in front of the household shrine to Guan Yu. "Wǔ Shèng Di Jun, guide and protect me to walk with truth and bring justice where I go." Ying prayed before pulling her wand out to Apparate back to the office.

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

RCMMP 'E Division' Headquarters

Mount Fromme, Vancouver, British Columbia
Spoiler: RCMMP Headquarters

With a pop, Ying appeared in the designated room for Apparition.

She smiled at the sight of a literal bear of a First Nations man with a file folder coming across the entrance way toward her as she hastily stepped out to clear the room for another Mountie. "Superintendent Matunaagd, it's good to see you. What do you have for me?"

"Auror Inspector Hastings' report on the potential Abyssal Cultist activity around Lax Kw'alaams, Chief Superintendent Wei. He wants a followup."

Ying flipped through the pages of the report and then nodded, and scribbled her signature with her wand. Something dark and coldly vicious flashed in her eyes. "Tell him to run them to ground and take them all the way out with my blessings. He's got good eyes to pick out the uptick in missing children and link to the vanished boaters there. Especially since the Tsimshian First Nations had a cult with some ugly rituals designed to propitiate evil spirits from the sea with slaves they bought or raided for. I could tell you some stories that would make your hair turn white."

Matunaagd nodded, his own face darkening. "Just like the Followers of the Wendigo in the Yukon in '73. If he does turn up something rotten, I want in alongside you for the takedown."

Ying gave a small smile. "I'll have to let you do this alone old friend. I'm taking personal time to clean out a side project, and need you to mind the fort here while I do."

Matunaagd blinked. "I never thought I would see the day when you backed off a case involving missing children."

Ying sighed, "I really want to drop the hammer on these scumbags too, but I have a prior promise I gave myself to tend to. I need you to handle something for me. First off, I need authorization from the Yanks to Floo to Tokyo."

Matunaagd gave a rumbling bark, "No can do, the Yanks are being stupid again. They said that they are 'concerned about Canadian magicals schooling in non-ICW approved curricula endangering the Statute of Secrecy'. Quote unquote. You know, that old bleeding sore."

Ying facepalmed. "Dammit, let me crystal ball de Breuil and get her to crack some heads together to get this cleared up. Someone down in New York got too big for his britches."

"Already tried. She's out of the office on vacation and her secretary said that it will be a while before she gets back in and can take care of this. So we are doing this the slow and formal way through the Foreign Office and Ottawa." A expressive shrug from the massive shaggy Native American.

Ying ran her fingers through her hair. "Great, great, just fucking great. Bloody Yanks. Right. Change of plans. They haven't done anything hinky with our military flight authorizations in Alaska, have they?"

"No. You want me to call down to the stables and have them prep a bear for you?" Matunaagd gave a slow, evil smile.

"Yes. Have them get me a bear out longterm; Whiteface if she's available. And a traveling lunch for the bear." Ying nodded decisively, "if you need me I'll be at the Quartermaster checking out a SMLE and a cold-weather kit. I'll be in Tokyo to get this issue taken care of, so forward any critical paperwork to the embassy there to CC me. Send an owl to Tokyo, Juneau, and Attu to let them know I'm coming in with a bear and to make accommodations for it and me."

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

Now attired in a caribou-hide hooded cloak, gloves and boots with warming charms and a Short Magazine Lee-Enfield bolt-action rifle slung over her shoulder Ying headed out of the arsenal to the stableyard at the top of the mountain.

Protected by concealment charms and illusions, the low-slung stone and sod stables appeared to the nomajs as a tree-covered ridge on the mountain overlooking Vancouver instead of the building complex next to the grass strip with Lumos spells for the mounts to arrive and leave. Instead, it appeared like nothing so much as a small magical airport. As she walked in that direction, a pegasus courier from Cold Lake Station landed and the fresh-faced trainee on it saluted her as he hurried to headquarters with the dispatch pouch. "Keep up the good work there, Corporal!"

"Chief Inspector!" The Sasquach stablemaster, who she remembered as a cub in the arms of refugees seeking asylum from their unsuccessful rebellion against MACUSA in the 1890s, waved one hairy hand the size of her head at her. "I got Whiteface prepped for you!"
Spoiler: Whiteface


She smiled as the stablemaster led out an unholy cross between a polar bear and a snowy owl with a saddle and bulging saddlebags between the massive wings. Amber eyes blinked at her from a owl's face as it gave her a bass grumble. She grabbed a flint spear with intricate First Nations carving on the cedar shaft on a rack next to a large barrel and stabbed into the open top of the barrel. With a grunt of effort she extended a 50 pound chinook salmon skewered on the spear to the owlbear, which examined it, looked into her eyes, and then snapped it up.

"Good to see you too, old friend," Ying whispered, as she felt the magical link between herself and her favorite mount settle into place as the food offering was accepted. "Time to go, I have a long trip ahead of me."

 

[darthcourt10]

Savato93

All eyes were on the Vanishing Cabinet as its doors creaked open, and Tanith stepped out. "W-well…?" Sunny asked, still a little unnerved from what they had felt hours earlier—Mother's rage, powerful enough to be felt all the way across the ocean. "What happened? What made Mother freak out like that?"

Tanith hung her head as she stepped out of the cabinet, her expression equal parts perturbed and concerned. "Grandmother passed word down the grapevine. There… there was an attack, in Hogsmeade. Uncle Harry came under assault by at least a hundred Dementors—ghostly, soul-sucking monsters."

The other flagships tensed up in their seats. For a brief moment, everyone in the vicinity of the palace felt the same wave of fear and anger once more—nowhere near as potent as before, but no less tangible. "Are you fucking kidding me…?" Sunny growled. "He's been attacked again!?"

A nod from their elder sister. "Yes. Him, his godfather, and an emissary of Porta Atlantia, all at once." She raised a finger. "They actually managed to repel the attack, though, and Uncle Harry destroyed dozens of them in one fell swoop. But he fell unconscious shortly after the fighting stopped. He is currently recovering his strength."

The Abyssals relaxed—but only slightly. "So Mother's with him now?"

"Knowing her? Absolutely. And I doubt she will leave his side until she is certain there won't be another attempt on his life."

With that, the tension faded, and the girls sagged in their seats. Ritou groaned, massaging her forehead. "I thought schools and such were supposed to be safe…"

"Is ANYTHING truly safe when magic is involved?" Sunny asked.

"Point." Ritou sighed. "We better gather everyone up, let them know everything is alright. Mother's outburst nearly gave a lot of them heart attacks." There were some sounds of agreement among the flagships, and several of them departed to carry out their task.

The Princess took her place on the throne and slumped over, finding herself rather drained by the events of the past few hours. Most of the time Mother more or less restrained her power, happy to remain small and unassuming to the world—and she was extremely good at keeping herself under control. For her to lose her cool and emit so much energy in a single burst of emotion? She'd only done that one other time—the day she discovered her little Renita had ran from home—and even that hadn't been as intense as this. More than just confirming how much Mother's adopted family meant to her… her spiritual outburst was certain to be turning heads the world over.

And she doubted all those heads would be particularly well screwed-on.

Looking up, Tanith was mildly surprised to see one of the flagships was still sitting in the chamber with her. "Nuri. How is Millie doing?"

The Demon waved a hand. "Millie is a little shaken, but otherwise fine. I was… hoping I could take her out to Hogwarts, to meet Mom and Uncle Harry. Would you be okay with that?"

Tanith pondered the request for a few seconds before nodding. "That would be fine, yes. I am sure they will appreciate us sending a few of our own to check in on them." After a moment of silence, she raised a finger. "Actually… could you take Regalia with you? After telling her of the things we saw on our own visit, she has been eager to make a trip herself. She was especially interested in trying to procure some Tartary Lambs…"

Nuri chuckled. "Sure, I could bring her along. Where is she?"

"Based on the time of day… she is likely tending to her farm."

XXXXXXXXXX

Nero couldn't believe it. For as long as she'd known Regalia, she had always been open and generous, always willing to lend a hand to her family, or offer up some of her valuable crops for a meal. Selflessness was simply in her nature.

Never before, had the Ne-class seen Regalia being stingy.

"Come on, I've just started building back up after they had a month to rampage over my crops! Why should I give them more?"

"Look, if we're going to breed these pigs, they need to eat," Nero argued. "Otherwise, they'll just starve and we'll have bupkis." She shook her head. "You haven't even made use of the wheat, for as long as it's been here! We could give it to them, and not touch the stuff we actually eat…"

Standing in front of the wild grain with her arms folded, Regalia pouted. "They're omnivorous, right? Why can't they eat just meat, or something, instead of my crops? That'll probably fatten them up better…"

"The only fresh meat we have to spare is… well, other pigs. I'd rather not resort to cannibalism." Bending over, Nero picked up her fuzzy little porker and held him up to Regalia. "Come on, you've always been happy to spare some food for Grunt every now and then. What makes this any different?"

"The difference is that you've got Grunt whipped." Nero raised an eyebrow at that. "I KNOW he won't go after my crops if he gets loose. But the others? They've come after them already. If they break free from containment, what's to stop them from raiding the farm?"

"The rest of our family?" Nero pointed out.

"Yeah, but…"

"Regalia!!" The two girls turned to see Nuri approaching them, her daughter Millie in tow. "You want to come to Hogwarts with us?"

In an instant, Regalia's mood did a 180–her expression brightened immensely, and she practically jumped for joy. "Yes, yes, yes! I'll be right there!!"

As Regalia chased off after her aunt, completely forgetting the argument she was just having, Grunt took the opportunity to nuzzle against Nero's chest. "Hm? What's wrong, boy? You hungry?"

Taking one last look back to confirm Regalia wasn't watching, Nero reached out and plucked a fistful of wheat and held it up to her pet, who started munching contentedly.

"I'm sure she won't mind us taking a little bit for today…"

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

Pack Dynamics IX

Kitsue Detective Agency
Spoiler: The PI's Report

Kiho Kitsue frowned slightly as she examined the replayed projection from her Omnioculars while narrating to the enchanted manual typewriter next to her.

"I can confirm several Kitsune are present in Yokosuka, but saw no direct indication of a prank being played on Hachiko Miyata. I shall continue to probe that angle, but there are no visible or magical signs of possession or enchantment on any of the Ibukis or Miyatas I observed."

She flicked the control ofuda, rewinding to the next section of interest. As she did so, the typewriter dinged and a fresh sheet of paper inserted itself to replace the one that had just been ejected

"Section break. At least one family of young Yokai children have been adopted by shipgirls Fubuki, Yuudachi, and Mutsuki along with a capital ship that I did not identify, perhaps one of the 'paper ships' that the JMSDF has summoned. This confirms that JMSDF leadership are aware of the existence of Yokai, but are keeping it classified for their own reasons. In addition, of the kitsune I witnessed, both of them along with a Mizuchi were in the hanami party including Harry Potter, the battleship Nagato, and the child-like Abyssal Princess, Hoppou, that signed the peace accords."

She rubbed her chin.

How to phrase this to avoid making her employers upset...?

"Section break. Regarding Hachiko and Moriko Ibuki, I observed them along with their family grouping enjoying hanami. Both are in excellent health and obviously very attracted to each other and comfortable around each other. However, visible reactions to a kiss under the blossoms strongly suggest that the two are not, I repeat not, sexually intimate at this time. Side comment. Personal note, colon, they are teeth-rottingly sweet together and I may need to bill for insulin. Comment ends. Paragraph. Miss Ibuki's sisters were along, with her middle sister indeed being an identical twin. The younger sister is in a wheelchair, but could walk short distances, either from lingering illness or some chronic disease."

A very deep breath as she clenched her fists, fighting down the feelings of betrayal that potentially Shigeru Miyata did nothing to help her so as to save his own scrawny neck if in fact he had a Yokai or Hanyo grandson. She closed her burning eyes and counted backward from fifty then opened them.

"The final member of their party was a child approximately nine years old who was calling Hachiko Miyata 'father'. I politely request a current photograph if at all possible to confirm that this is Aki Miyata as opposed to a different relationship to your grandson. Paragraph. Also, all three Ibuki girls and the young boy had auras suggesting disguised Yokai or magical potential. Personal note, colon, I strongly recommend insuring making sure that Hachiko handled all necessary paperwork and registrations if this is fact a war orphan that he adopted. End note. I have several leads on potentially identifying the Ibuki's potential Yokai heritage that I shall be developing, along with a posible lead into their past. Section break. The auras were unusually strong on the Ibukis, so I cannot discount that she may, in fact, be a natural-born shipgirl as she portrayed to Hachiko. She does not appear in a database search of JMSDF Awakened shipgirls, but for privacy reasons, unwakened Natural Borns are not publicly listed. I will be continuing discreet inquiries among JMSDF Naval Base Yokosuka where she is assigned."

Another deep breath as she pulled a glowing crystal the size of her thumbnail out of a slot in the holder where her Omnioculars sat.

"Enclosed is a recording crystal of the Ibukis and Hachiko at hanami for your viewing pleasure. If you need to contact me, please do so through my office, which I shall be checking periodically when not performing fieldwork. Section break. As always, I am your obedient servant, Mitsue Kiho. Shut down and release paper."

She pulled the report from the typewriter and checked it for mistakes. Finally nodding, she signed it with her name and personal chop before rolling the report and crystal into a wooden scroll case and sealing that with wax and an ofuda.

"At least they are paying my expenses, prices of ofuda are going up again." Kiho grumbled as she handed the scrollcase to her postal owl. "Miyata Naomi, Miyata House. Return with a receipt."

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

Miyata Family House
Spoiler: Grandfather and Aunt

Shigeru steepled his fingers as he watched his grandson's first kiss replayed in miniature above his desk. He then glanced to Naomi. "Thoughts?"

She shook her head. "Well. I see that we do not have a choice but to confirm Aki's identity to Mitsue. I shall make arrangements."

Shigeru nodded. "It was a slim chance. While it is annoying that Mitsue is so competent and thorough, and that Aki was seen by her, she is also scrupulously honorable about client security. She might know that Aki is... what he is... but it will go no further. As for the girls... I wonder if we can perhaps persuade Hachiko to pursue Suzume instead? She seems to be ladylike and good with children."

He sighed and rubbed his bald scalp. "And she could provide the support that Hachiko needs with Aki that we cannot."

Naomi nodded. "I'll be dropping by the library when Hachiko is on duty to speak to him. Even if we do not divert his attentions, well a younger sister should help her elder in the household, no?"

Shigeru pursed his lips in deep thought and spoke slowly. "True. But to larger concerns. We need to know more about if they are Yokai, and if so, if shipgirls can be Yokai, since that is a complication that will have serious repercussions on our policy both as a family and as the civil service. As well, I want to know what the disease their youngest has. If it is a genetic problem...."

Naomi nodded solemnly. "Yes, we need more information about the potential Yokai shipgirls and the Ibuki family. No avoidable tragedies if we can help it, especially since Kyoto has not yet acted to repeal the laws discriminating against human/Yokai marriages and we need definite proof before leaking the existence of Yokai shipgirls to suitable people."

"Well reasoned, Daughter. This is a delicate matter and must be handled cautiously. What do you suggest for our current course of action?" Shigeru looked up at Naomi with a basilisk gaze.

"So I tell Hachiko that the family is deciding then? We play for time while Mitsue gets us the information we need to formulate a strategy." Naomi said after some thought

"Indeed, and make no inconvenient actions until the old dragon has made up his mind." Shigeru showed his teeth in a smirk. "After all a reputation for cold-blooded viciousness and practicality should be used when appropriate, no?"

"Yes, Father." Naomi bowed herself out after pocketing the recording crystal to place in a secure location in the family vault.

Shigeru fed the rest of the report to the Salamander he kept in a jar in his desk for document destruction.

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

Kiho filed the receipt that Naomi had given her and then looked at the magical sundial showing the time.

Right, I'll visit the shrine tomorrow. For now time to cultivate my other contact.

She pulled out the scrap of paper that Longstreet-san had given her and then her face paled. For a brief second her heart skipped a beat.

"Shimatta, I forgot to give him my number! Stupid of me!" She lifted the earpiece and began to turn the rotary dial on her telephone. "Oh, Longstreet-san, this is Kiho Mitsue! My apologies since I forgot to give you my number. Have you eaten dinner yet?..."

Author's Note: And this concludes Arc Two of SGO's Most Tooth-Rotting couple. Arc Three will pick up once the new thread opens so it is not split between threads.

A.N. #2: I hope like hell this short-circuits and puts to rest the 'owlbear debate'. Some people....

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

So... four twelve hour shifts, four days in a row, most of which involve sitting around and doing pretty much nothing... makes for one tired, bored author who suddenly gets odd ideas...
______________________________________________________________________________

The early morning Sun shone down upon Yokosuka on a Monday as people headed towards their destinations for the day. In a small house, Fubuki hummed as she worked on making breakfast, her hair done up in a bun on top of her head. Beside her, Yuudachi helped while Fu-Chan and the others helped set the table.

Outside, the weather had just the hint to the warmth that would come in a few weeks and months. An example would be the sakura and ume trees. Most were well on their way to flowering and would likely start in a few short days. Some of those on their way to work or what have you glanced at them and smiled, already planning to get together with friends and family for Hanami.

But that was in the future and those people had other things to do. Along one road heading towards the local middle school were three teenager girls. For the most part, there was nothing to separate them from the untold numbers of other Japanese schoolgirls heading to school this morning. Two of them were in the usual uniforms for the time of year, and so was the third...

Though she had added an odd, military style cap and cape to her uniform.

Leaping up onto a post, she went into a pose with her cape fluttering behind her, a toothy grin for all to see as she pointed dramatically, "And that, my friends, is how I defeated the groper! He was shocked to find that the one he had believed to be a defenceless flower was in fact a demon most bloody!"

Placing her face in her hands, the one with slightly blonde hair frowned, "Nobu-Chan... please tell me that you didn't..."

Just blinking, Nobu shrugged, "Nope, I just dislocated his shoulder... and his jaw, Okita-Chan." Frowning, she scratched at her chin still posing dramatically, "Annnnd, I think that I sprained his wrist, maybe." With a shrug, she threw her hand out as she changed poses, "But that does not matter! For he dared to lay a hand on the greatest demon in all Japan, who shall one day conquer the land! The great Nobu-Chan!"

Looking up from her book, the third girl reached into her purse and pulled out a granola bar which she tossed at Nobu, the girl nearly falling from her perch to catch it. Once the other girl was done with wind milling her arms, she sighed, "And that is why everyone calls you Chunni, Nobu-Chan."

In return, the other girl grinned widely as she laughed boisterously before ripping the wrapper from the treat, "Ha! So they say, Shin-Chan, but is it being Chunni when it is true!? For truly, there is no one more of a demon than I!"

Hands still in a lover's embrace with her face, Okita sighed, "Why do I hang out with you two again...?"

With a shrug, Nobu hopped off her perch as Shin smiled slightly, "Because we're in the same situation, I suppose? And the only ones that really understand you..." Glancing at the cape wearing girl who tossed the discarded wrapper into a trash can and cheered, she chuckled, "Well, at least I am."

Grimacing, Okita shook her head as her face was separated from its illicit embrace of her hands, "Maybe..." Arms crossed, she looked at the other two, "Does it ever bother you?"

A frown on her face, Nobu towards her with confusion for all to see, "Uh, does what ever bother us?"

Throwing her hands into the air, the teen groaned. Then Okita gestured at herself, "This!" Seeing that neither of the two understood, she gestured at herself and than her two friends, "This! Being reborn as girls because some bastard of a wizard could not leave well enough alone during the last war!"

Eyes closed, Nobu crossed her arms in deep thought and hummed. After a few moments she shrugged and opened her eyes, "Nope."

Disbelief on her face, Okita boggled at her, "... Really?"

Her arms still crossed the other girl laughed uproariously, enough so she got odd looks, "Ha! Male! Female! It does not matter to a true demon as I! Besides!" Expression becoming one of seriousness, she looked at the other two, "Being a woman in this era is no barrier to becoming powerful!"

For several moments, Okita stared at her before looking towards Shin, "And you, Uesugi-Chan?"

Much to her surprise, the other girl looked away with a cough and a light blush on her cheeks, "Ah, it... does not bother me either." Hearing snickers coming from Nobu as well as a "I wonder~", she whapped the other girl upside the head, "Stop that."

As she rubbed the side of her head, Nobu pouted which drew a twitch from Shin. Grumbling for a moment, she turned to Okita, "Anyways, why? Does it bother you?"

Opening her mouth, Okita frowned before sighing as she shook her head, "I... guess that it bothers me that it doesn't?" As she shook her head, she furrowed her eyebrows, "Does that mean that I am Okita? Or am I just a teenager girl with his memories as if I had lived his life? Ojii-San said that those Onmyouji experimenting on him and the others were trying to either forcibly reincarnate people or have people gain their memories and skills."

Placing her arms behind her head, Nobu frowned as she looked up at the sky above. Fluffy, white clouds floated past as they walked. After almost a minute, she gave a shrug, "Does it really matter in the end? We are here, are we not? Whether we have been reincarnated with our memories or just people with memories of the original, what is the difference? In the first, we got a second chance. If it was the second? We can make those we are the legacy of proud. So in the end, no, it does not matter." Not hearing anything, she looked at her two friends who were looking at her in surprise. Jerking back, she blushed, "Wh-What? What's with those looks?!"

One eyebrow raised, Shin hummed, "Just surprised my old foe... You sounded, dare I say... wise, right then?"

Soft snorts and snickers escaped form Okita as Nobu scowled, "Hey!"

Shaking her head, the cape wearing girl gave a shrug, "Anyways, being a girl just gives me more openings to take over Japan in this life."

Utter silence met her for several moments. Finally, Okita raised a finger, "I... thought that you stated that you were going to join the JGSDF, rise in the ranks, retire and run for political office? That is what you told us..."

With a smirk, Nobu raised an eyebrow, "Ha! Not all of us would be happy with just becoming a police officer."

That got her another whack to the head from Shin while Okita looked away with a slight blush, "I liked being a police officer... and also, I can always teach Battoujutsu and Kenjutsu if needed..."

Rubbing where she got hit, the cape wearing girl shrugged, "Anyways, yes, that was one of my plans, but one must have more than just one after all! Hence, I thought of another!" Throwing her hands into the air, Nobu grinned, "Become an Idol!"

Yet again, silence met her at that. Finally, Shin raised one eyebrow in askance, "I am going to regret this, Nobu-Chan... but why an Idol?"

Beside Shin, Okita was nodding as well. Theatrically throwing her cape out, Nobu grinned, "Simple! I can take over Japan by... becoming an Idol!"

The only thing that Okita did was blink at that, "Wat."

Laughing, Nobu placed her hands on her hips, "Yes! I can take over Japan by becoming an Idol! Naka-San is an example! Idols have power over the masses! Fame and fortune as well! Yes, I can take over the country by becoming an Idol since I am a girl!"

Squeezing her eyes shut as if in pain, the slightly pink haired girl took a calming breath. Beside her, Shin glanced at her fellow schoolgirl and then back at Nobu, "And how would you become an Idol? You do not sing from memory after all."

Now blinking, Okita stopped walking and gave her friend an odd look, "That's... true. How would you become an Idol?"

Widely grinning, Nobu laughed, "Easy! Besides my voice which once moved thousands to my flag, I shall use the best instrument ever!"

Uesugi frowned and hummed, "The Koto?"

From where she stood, Okita furrowed her eyebrows in thought, "Guitar?" At the looks, she blushed, "I like that one band... with Natsumi-Senpai's Nii-San in it."
After that, the two girls listed off one instrument after another, but only got headshakes. Finally, Nobu shook her head, "No, no, I shall use the greatest instrument of them all to make myself the greatest Idol and rule over Japan! And that instrument is GUNS!"

No one said anything at that proclamation, though if one looked up, a particular crow that had been nesting on the JS Fubuki flew above them and cawed several times.

Expression one of pain, Shin pinched her nose, "Guns..."

Sharply nodding, Nobu grinned, "Exactly! Guns!"

Already feeling a headache, Okita took a deep breath, "Nobu-Chan... Guns are not an instrument."

Only shaking her head, the cape wearing girl patted her shoulder, "It is okay, Okita-Chan. See, they said the same thing to Tchaikovsky, the Russian composer when he composed one of his most famous pieces! 'Tchaikovsky,' they said, 'Cannons are not instruments!' He laughed and said 'Yes they are, and I will be using twenty one of them!' 'Tchaikovsky, no!' They proclaimed! 'Tchaikovsky, yes!' he said, 'Always Yes!'" Throwing her hands into the air, she continued, "And what are guns but just small cannons!"

Yet again, silence met her before the crow circled around and began to caw again while Nobu looked up at it with a frown. Just in time for Okita's hands do once more perform an embrace full of love with her face. Behind her hands, she softly groaned, "Nobu-Chan, no."

Laughing, Nobu threw her arms wide, "Nobu-Chan, yes! Yahtzee!" The other two girls paused at that, but before they could say anything, the cape wearing member of their trio held up a hand, "Hold that thought!" With that, she rushed towards a twelve year old girl whose eyes widened and looked like she wanted to be elsewhere, "Sayaka-Chan, my Kouhei! It is I! your Nobu-Senpai! The Demon Senpai!"

Just as she reached the other girl, a shout grabbed her attention, "Stop hogging the spotlight of this scene! I deserve screen time too! And I can prove that I can be best girl as well in whatever this is!"

Blinking, Nobu looked at her female classmate across the street, "Are you still up on... whatever you are on about?!"

For her part, Okita just blinked at one of the return shouts, "Why... is that weirdo going on about skinning a big lizard for not giving her more screen time?"

Shrugging, the girl beside decided to just ignore the shouting match, and Sayaka trying to sneak away, by looking at something on her phone. One bit made her raise her eyebrows, "Huh... looks like Natsumi-Senpai won't be in class today..."

With a blink of her own, Okita looked over her shoulder as she drowned out Nobu's shouts due to long practice. Frowning, she glanced at the other girl, "Huh... think that something might have happened with Harry-San? They are close and some of the gossip about the last time she took off a few days hinted at that."

Just humming, Shin shook her head, "I... do not know, Okita-Chan. Perhaps..." Glancing at Nobu who was shaking a fist, she shook her head, "At least we convinced her not to pursue him... Poor guy has enough girls."

Eyebrow twitching at the memory of that argument, Okita grunted, "Hai, I remember... because she figured that getting with him would grant her more power to take over Japan." The two shared a look of long suffering before they sighed and they hung their heads, "At least she got over that..."

Only nodding, the other girl frowned, "Hai, that is true." Going more through the chats on her phone, she glanced at Okita, "So are you still coming to Kendo practice or not? Because between the two of us, we should be able to go all the way to the Championships..."

Head tilted to the side, Okita nodded, "I don't see an issue with that, especially with the skill we both have... Makes me feel bad though for the other competitors..."

A short distance away, Shiromizu looked at the students walking away wih a frown on her face as she furrowed her eyebrows as she went over most of the conversation she had overheard, though she missed the last bit. Unsure, she turned to Jin who was finishing off her coffee, "Um, Senpai? What... what was that all about?"

Patting her on the shoulder, Jin tossed the paper cup, "Shiro? Take it from me, sometimes it is best just not to ask." She then began to walk towards her motorbike, "Anyways, we should be heading over to Zuchi. I got to check in on the guys first since we just got back from the training we were doing in the mountains."

Shiromizu nodded as she got onto the motorbike behind her senpai and put on the helmet. While a crash would not hurt her that much, best not to risk it after all, "Okay, Senpai. But afterwards, we should get back to the base. I got a bad feeling about my Otouto after all."

Lightly laughing, the undead Mizuchi shook her head, "Shiro, don't sweat it. You're just imagining things." Starting her bike, she pulled away and began to accelerate, "Absolutely nothing happened with the kiddo..." Roughly a half hour later found Jin staring at Koga with a disbelieving look on her face, "Uh... care to run that past me again?"

In reply, Koga raised an eyebrow, "You mean that you didn't hear? Potter-San got attacked by over a hundred Dementors last night? Or yesterday? Not quite sure..." He then shrugged some, "But he drove off and destroyed a group of them."

Just blinking, Jin scratched her neck, "Huh... guess I was wrong, Shiro..." Realizing that her Kouhai had not said anything, the Mizuchi turned towards her only to find Shiromizu staring straight ahead, "Uh... Shiro?" Slowly blinking, the younger Mizuchi headed towards the backdoors, "Shiro?"

Rather than say anything, she raised a single finger and walked out. Watching, Kiba hummed some, "Huh, she's taking that a lot better than expected."

Outside, Shiromizu walked down to the edge of the water and stared at it before she took a deep breath, her lungs inflating as she sucked in more and more air until a few moments later...

At the loud scream of rage, Norimune leapt off the couch in her sister's apartment and hit the ground hard. Rapidly blinking, she looked around, "Uh, Sis? Did you hear that?"

Cracking one eye open from where she sat mediating, Chisuheri frowned, "I feel that."

Her mug nearly touching her lips, Mikasa paused and looked around as she heard a scream of rage, "What the devil is that noise?"

In the Matsuda household, Tenryuu was chuckling as she looked through the fridge. Catching sight of a pitcher, she poured some of the contents out and smiled as she grasped the glass, "Ah, nothing so good after a morning sword practice than a nice, refreshing glass of orange juice-" She paused at a scream of rage and blinked, "Huh?"

On Olympus, Zeus was looking through his porn magazines chuckling, "These mortals really are interesting-" A scream of rage that reverberated through the spirit realm brought him up short, "What the... wait, is that you Medea?! Oh in my name, we already gave you Atalanta and Hippomenes, what more could you want!?"

***** 2114 ******

Walking through a grove of cherry trees in full blossom was a being with the horns of a Mizuchi and the ears of a fox. As well, he had a head of messy black hair with a reddish stripe on either side while behind him, a longer than usual fox tail swished. Glancing at his companion, he smiled, "You know... the sakura are beautiful this time of year."

Suihou only nodded, "Hai, they are..."

Moments later, the hybrid grinned and winked, "But not as much as you, Suihou-Chan." Giggles escaped from the water spirit before both paused at the echoing scream of rage. After a few moments, the Mizuchi-Kitsune's eyes widened a bit, "Mommy?"

******************* 2014 ***************

Waggling a finger in her ear, Jin frowned, "Huh... yeah, she took that well."

Just furrowing his eyebrows, Kiba looked at her, "WHAT?"

Beside him, the Okami turned to him, "HUH? WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

It was than that a snarling Shiromizu walked in and grabbed Jin, "Get me back to the base, now, Senpai."

Chuckling, Jin nodded as the two headed out, "Yeah, I'll get you there quick, Shiro."

Utterly lost, Kiba frowned, "COOL WHIP? WHY DO YOU NEED THAT?"

Koga shook his head and slapped his own ears, "SIPS? WELL, YEAH, YOU NEED TO SIP A DRINK..."

 

[darthcourt10]

SkyeFire Omake: Kyoshu sees things others don't

Internet's down for days, I am so far behind....)

Yellowhammer said:
"Auror Inspector Hastings' report on the potential Abyssal Cultist activity around Lax Kw'alaams, Chief Superintendent Wei. He wants a followup."​

Wait, are these Abyssal-worshipping humans, or the local cult made up of Abyssals?

Yellowhammer said:
Ying flipped through the pages of the report and then nodded, and scribbled her signature with her wand. Something dark and coldly vicious flashed in her eyes. "Tell him to run them to ground and take them all the way out with my blessings. He's got good eyes to pick out the uptick in missing children and link to the vanished boaters there. Especially since the Tsimshian First Nations had a cult with some ugly rituals designed to propitiate evil spirits from the sea with slaves they bought or raided for. I could tell you some stories that would make your hair turn white."​

...ah. Okay, not another mostly-harmless sect of Worshippers of the Dark One.

Yellowhammer said:
She smiled as the stablemaster led out an unholy cross between a polar bear and a snowy owl​

Hagrid: "I feel a sudden urge to visit Canada."

gaea said:
Freaking Canadians. Not satisfied with Bear Cavalry, they had to go o e step further with Bear Air Cavalry.

That must be terrifying to see dropping out of the sky.​

No, see, Drop Bears are Australian.

Yellowhammer said:
(but yeah, Whiteface weighs about as much as Sister Claire's true body. enough to make someone shit themselves, she is)​

Hagrid: "I really need to visit Canada!"
I imagine he and that Sasquatch RCMMP stablemaster would get along like Steve Irwin a house on fire.

Savato93 said:
"Knowing her? Absolutely. And I doubt she will leave his side until she is certain there won't be another attempt on his life."​

"Mr. Potter... must you clank so while you walk?"
"Well, I can't really help it -- after the last Dementor attack, I have an Abyssal Princess and two legendary swords that have pretty much attached themselves to me 24/7, and won't let go."
"I notice you didn't mention the kitsune."
"Well, she doesn't clank, she more... uh... well, she's not metallic, you see!"

Cyberbeta said:
For even more Amusement (and best saved for after Lord K comes back and catches up) Kyoshu ends up being the one to figure out the relationship & forgets just as fast before anyone else does somehow.​

Kyoshu broke off pushing Nameless's wheelchair down the sidewalk and pounced. "NIECES!"
Ying and Del found themselves sudden victims of a Glomp Attack by a squeeing Goldfish. "Look, Na-chan! NIECES!"

Del wrestled her Startled Kill Reflex back into its box and found herself unable not to smile at Kyoshu's unalloyed childish happiness. "Ah, hi, Aunt Kyoshu. Is Aunt Umi home?"

"Ummm..." Kyoshu's brow furrowed. "Umi... where's home?"

Nameless reached out with an affectionate eye-roll and tugged on Kyoshu's sleeve, pointing back at the house they had just departed with her other hand.

After a minute to disentangle themselves from the cheerful goldfish, Del and Ying found themselves waving as Nameless corralled Kyoshu back on-task and the two amnesiac swords rolled off to do... whatever they'd been en route to do.

"So..." Ying began slowly.
"Yeah, that was my Aunt Kyoshu. Muramasa sword, several centuries old, really nasty reputation in the old days, but apparently some even nastier pieces of work from sub-Unit 942 got hold of her during WWII as a 'research subject,' and, well...."

"At least she seems happy," Ying commented. "But why did she lump me in with you, like we were related? Not that I mind, but, you know."

"Damfino. It's Aunt Kyoshu, she's got a... unique way of looking at the world."

"The weird thing is, when she hugged us, it felt familiar. Like she reminded me of one of my relatives, but for the life of me I can't think of who."

More than a block away now, Kyoshu was cheerfully singing "Nieces, Nieces, nicey-nicey Nieces" as she pushed Na-chan down the sidewalk.

Nameless glanced back over her shoulder, then settled into her seat, a tiny knowing smirk curving her lips....

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Butterknife Mountie's Road Trip

200 Miles Southeast of Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada

Wei Ying hummed thoughtfully as she checked her wrist sundial. Since taking off from RCMMP division headquarters in Vancouver, she had made good time in her flight up the coast.

Below her, the owlbear that she was riding grumbled a little as it caught a thermal and soared. She reached down and scratched the thick downy feathers on its neck. "Good girl Whitehead. Good girl."

With that she leaned back in the saddle and closed her eyes. She could easily visualize the scene back at her family's home. Even now, a grumbling Wei Yuying was making the normal loving pro forma mock complaints about 'ungrateful grandchildren hurrying their elders along' as she made her way into the front seat of the minivan that her great-great-great-grandniece's husband had purchased and then enchanted to fit a substantial percentage of the Wei family.

Wei Xiang and his parents had already gone ahead in the jeep, of course, to be at their destination early. After all, it would not be a junior hockey game in Canada without family and hometown support of their players.

Especially when the player grew up in the town that he was playing for, and was daszzling with a combination of blazing speed, deft and deceptive puck handling (here Ying gave a very smug smirk as she noted that was the huli jing blood in Xiang), and surprising strength and toughness (not surprising to Ying, since she had a few suspicions about the blood of the White Tiger running in his mother's veins) for a 16 year old player. Most importunity of all, he had learned determination and willingness to give his all. Ying privately suspected that he would be wearing the jersey of a NHL team in a half-decade or so.

She smiled smugly as she wondered which of her many, many relatives would claim 'Gūpó's normal seat' with the additional three inches of legroom since she was not present to attend. Which, was sadly the norm more often than not, since as always she had to balance her family and her job.

She automatically blinked the tears out of her eyes before they could freeze in the bitter cold of the air over the Rockies and then checked the Bubble-Head charms that she had cast on herself and on Whitehead. The last thing she wanted to do was to pass out and crash someplace in the wilderness before she landed at the Bear Lake MACUSA military patrol base just east of Sitka, Alaska on the next leg of her flight to Japan.

Luckily, the Abyssals holding Unalaska were now friendly, so I can take the southern deployment route. Better to deal with the Yanks than the Ivans. Prince Rupert to Bear Lake just east of Sitka where I land and check the weather forecast and divination. Unless there's fog and storms in the area, always a risk, the next stop is Cold Bay on the Alaskan peninsula, where we will remain overnight to rest and feed.

After that down to Atka on Nazan Bay for my last taste of civilization of sorts, and then down the Aleutian Islands to Lake Nicholas. Thank heavens for magical navigation over water to my second rest stop. One more hop south-southwest to Saint Bartholemew's Island, where I enter the Magical Diet's territory, and then from there, I head due southwest to Hokkaido.

With that, another check at the sundial and she pulled out a pair of earbuds from a belt pouch and inserted them under her flight cap with the ease of long practice. A happy smug smile spread across her face when she flicked on the Wizarding Wireless at the other end. She leaned back slightly in the saddle and the smug smirk broadened as a very familiar tune came over the radio.
Spoiler: Well She IS A Canadian Butterknife

"Hello Canada and hockey fans in the United States and Newfoundland! Tonight we come to you from Victoria where the Victoria Royals and Halifax Mooseheads will clash with the Memorial Cup on the line! It is a battle for the championship between the Quebec Major Junior Hockey league's champion against the host and Western Hockey League runner-up Royals, led by their young forward and hometown hero Xiang Wei who has been brilliant through the final round robin, becoming the youngest player to notch a hat trick in the Cup playoffs in their upset of the Vancouver Giants in the last game."

Ying laughed smugly as she remembered the fuming faces of her fellow Mounties the morning after she had shouted herself hoarse in the 4-3 victory over their rivals three days ago.

So. Many. Tim Horton's gift cards....

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

163 Miles Southeast of Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada

"Center! Center! Darnit, what do you mean crosschecking, ref? Get some glasses!"

"AWWWK!" {Legitimate penalty call there, lady. Deal.}

"Right, time to kill this penalty, team! Come on, Little Nephew, show your Năinăi what you can do!"

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

157 Miles Southeast of Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada

"Yes! Shorthanded breakaway chance! SCORE!!!"

"SQWAAAWK!" {It's going to get rowdy up here, isn't it?!}

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

123 Miles Southeast of Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada

"I'll have to lean on Mother to send me a recording of her memories of the game. You can barely hear the announcers or the horn over the crowd. I sure hope someone put some strengthening spells on the glass, because the fans are going insane."

"RRAWWWRK!" {Like the fan I'm stuck with up here?}

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

88 Miles Southeast of Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada

Anyone present in the skies over the Pacific Coast would have heard a remarkably bad and off-key attempt to sing Queen, since, just like her 'father' Colombe, Ying Wei(-Muramasa) could not carry a tune in a dump truck.
Spoiler: Bad Queen Cover

"GRRAWWWRR!" {Just kill me now...}

"I wish I could be there for the trophy presentation. But, father's calling me, and this time I'll run her to ground."

"RRWRRRKKK!" {You are giving me MUCH salmon after this flight! MUCH SALMON!!}

 

[darthcourt10]

NotHimAgain

Here's more Twin Princess Fleet! I cannot think of titles yet, so here you go!
-----

"—ncess? Princess?"

Wandering a lonely dark expanse, searching for any sign of life or loved ones faded away instantly, and Ku-Tan opened her eyes to find Nemo standing in front of her, leaning down towards her worriedly.

"… I was asleep," she pointed out, and Nemo jumped back, straightening as she took a moment to stretch.

"Y-yes, I know, it's just…" the light cruiser glanced aside uncomfortably. "… You didn't seem to be sleeping very well is all." Ku-Tan thought back to her dream, only to find it had faded away entirely, except for a vague feeling of unpleasantness. Which was a step up from having to convince herself that she was back in the waking world, but still...

"I suppose so."

Nemo nodded, disheartened, and it was all that Ku-Tan could do not to jerk away in shame at pushing her daughter away, except… except no, she didn't need to be strong. Well, she needed to be strong, but she could allow support more. No more holding herself together with staples and spit, letting everyone see that she was alright when she wasn't. She didn't need to live her life in that sea of corpses anymore—that's what the Da-class was supposed to represent.

… that wasn't where that train of thought was supposed to go.

Wait. Right. Nemo unhappy. To deal with that, she had to… distract her?

"So, I heard you met your boyfriend's mother?"

Agh! No! That was, what, months ago? And distract her? That was moronic—how did she come up with that? She had no right to talk to Nemo, not after something as stupid as that!

"Well, yes, I guess I didn't tell you about that myself," Nemo admitted. "She, uh… She's nice, but she's always running around and talking really loudly—not much like Takumi at all. And I told her that, and she laughed and said that he took more after his father, who's working in Canada for some reason," Nemo glanced from side to side, then leaned a little closer again. "She says it's because he likes hockey more than she does, though I don't think she's being serious when she says it's grounds for divorce, because that makes no sense—"

Ku-Tan could only gape. "Huh?"

Nemo's eyes widened in shock. "Oh!" she exclaimed, laughing, "I'm sorry, I just… Everything felt kind of awkward, and I started babbling. That… That was yeah…"

When she really thought about it, Ku-Tan could sometimes see ways that her daughters took after her more than Shi-Chi. "Don't worry, it's okay. I didn't mean to make you feel on the spot."

"No, no, really, it's fine, I'm just, I get started, and then I'm not really sure what to do afterwards—"

"No, it's fine! I'm sorry."

The two Abyssals went silent as they attempted to parse exactly who was sorry for what and if it was justified. Nemo snorted, which turned into giggles as she covered her mouth and slowly slid down the opposite cave wall. Ku-Tan chuckled quietly, but she wasn't exactly one to laugh.

"So…" Nemo's giggles had mostly faded, but there was still just a tiny bit of snickering as she posited her question. "There any change over here? Everything's going well?"

Ku-Tan glanced over at the subject of her near-constant vigil. "More or less. Still not ready to hatch yet, but—"

Crack

Both were silent again, but for Nemo's rapid shuffling forward on hands and knees to get a closer look.

On the other hand, I always left the eggs to Shi-Chi after the first bit…
-----

The ecstatic cry rang through the air, jerking Shi-Chi away from the small group of destroyers that were circling around her feet. She looked back towards the island and smiled.

"Now that," she said casually, "was a 'new baby screech' if ever I heard one. What do you think—"

Shi-Chi glanced back down around her feet to discover that the destroyers had vanished. She laughed, and followed at a more leisurely pace.
-----

Build anticipation, you say? Why would I want to do that? I came here for imouto!

Well what do you think, sirs?

 

[darthcourt10]

MagisterAurelius

Lonely Street 3

The sound of his phone ringing brought Dalt out of the blurry tedium that at least filled the day.

"Yes?"... "Oh hello Mitsue-san." .... "Please don't apologize, there's no need." ... "Um, no, I haven't eaten yet." .... "Do you have a place in mind? I don't eat out much." ... "Alright, I will meet you there at 7 o'clock then." After he had finished writing down the directions and put his phone away, he looked up. To a room of coworkers all studiously avoiding looking in his direction. Dalt's eyes narrowed and he asked the room in his quietest calmest Master Chief's tone.

"So who won the pool?"

"I think Ishida did."

"Yes!"

The next words from Dalt's mouth dropped the temperature in the room by several degrees, as an angry scowl grew on his face. "So my having no love life is funny how? I mean, funny like I'm one of those sad clowns or neckbeard incels? It amuses you? IT MAKES YOU LAUGH? I'M A BIG FUCKING JOKE TO YOU?"

Utter silence reigned as the shocked to slack jawed expressions looked on. Master Chief Dalton Longstreet, the calm and quiet Coastie, who had suffered all the slings and arrows his life had thrown at him with a seeming calm equanimity was grinding his teeth in barely contained anger.

Captain Yonehara, who had just stepped out of his office in the middle of it, commented in an attempt to placate Dalt; "I came up with the pool Chief Longstreet. It was originally a pool about who would land a girlfriend first, you or me."

"So why didn't it end when you and Ashigara hooked up, Sir?"

"..."

"I am disappointed, Sir. I thought you of all people would understand about things like this." Dalt visibly calmed himself. "Sir, I'm taking the rest of the week and next week off. I have the time to burn. Have a good evening." Dalt walked out of the office.

-0-

So yeah.. Dalt's epic failure of a love life has done a number on him and he's not been in a good headspace for a very long time. The next bit will be the dinner date and office coworkers forming a peanut gallery that makes things worse. But the question of the purveyor of Red Strings, Uzume is, what happens when the Red String keeps falling off one of the targets like they're coated with Teflon?

Also, I wanted to write something, and that Goodfellas quote has been wanting me to use it forever now.