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The Days They See

A/N:

MERRY CHRISTMAS.

Nah, but seriously, I hope that the holidays have been treating you all nice and well. As for this chapter, this is part 2 to the 100 special. So after this, we'll get back to the more bite sized chapters and a more normal schedule, I promise. (I hope.)

And as always, thanks so much for the reads and support.

—/—\—/—\—/—\—

She tried to relax, she really did. The water lapping up against her hull, the cool yet humid air of the room against her skin, the over all encompassing silence. It was all but a dream for her, one that she could fall asleep within in mere seconds. It was all she wanted, all she needed. It was satisfaction incarnate. And it would've been great.

Had she not felt yet another ping of pain and searing flesh from her shoulder.

She winced at the feeling, it being entirely unpleasant and entirely unwelcome. But unfortunately, much to her chagrin, it was needed as she turned her head, an eye casting open as she came to focus on the fairies there, decorating the scaffolding they'd built around her left shoulder and arm. Most of them were adorning welding gear as they came and went, fairies vanishing into the limb as more stepped off of her. Within, she could hear welding in full, she could feel it sounding against the metal of her corridors.

And it was driving her up the wall.

"Okay, I knew you guys said it was bad, but I didn't think it was gonna take an army to try and fix it. It was just one shell." Battleship South Dakota told the assembled group of fairies about her arm. Some of them, a few of Vestal's and Askahi's fairies looked up to the woman in turn, but the majority continued going about their business. One of them, a fairy from Akashi, only turned fully to address the battleship, the scaffolding she was standing on coming to nearly eye level with the battleship.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!" The fairy told her, waving her stubby arms about in the air as she did so. South Dakota only offered a roll of the eyes at that as she looked to the fairy, jabbing a finger at her with her other hand.

"I'm not asking you to just up and leave, but it feels like you guys are running a circus in there!" She fired back.

"Hey!" The fairy replied, her quiet tone taking that of anger, despite remaining the ever constant volume it always was. South Dakota frowned at that as she looked to the fairy, wanting nothing more than to cross her arms in response to what she'd been told just then. But between the damage the shell she'd taken and the fact that the repair fairies had severed her use of her left arm, it was moot point and she knew it.

It'd hardly been her fault that the Re-Class they'd run into had been waiting for them.

"Hey hey hey!" The fairy came at her again. South Dakota scowled this time, her right arm twitching in annoyance as she narrowed her eyes icily at the fairy before her.

"You can't just say something like that and expect me not to-"

"Hey~" Came the return response, the sass all but dripping from the one word response. South groaned in frustration, splashing the water with her other hand. The Akashi fairy in question only planted her hands on her hips in a satisfactory manner before making her way across the gangway connecting the scaffolding and South Dakota, soon vanishing within the battleship.  Nearby Vestal and Dinonysus fairy that had watched the entire thing only shrugged up at the battleship in response.

South Dakota made a noise akin to a deflating balloon as her head bumped against the wall behind her, resting there for a moment.

The reason for her being in the docks was pretty clear to her anyways, given the recent shift in how the base was fixing to do things. Currently, the Admiralty was in the midst of shifting their war time planning from Reactive to preventive, and with it came its own sets of challenges and needs. South Dakota herself still wasn't exactly clear on the aspect of it, but she knew the basics of what their war efforts were fixing to look like.

First, there were the inter-island patrols, which were exactly what they sounded like. Patrols focused on Japanese waters, between and around the home islands. This is what had landed South Dakota in the docks, as their patrol had managed to stumble across a pocket of battleships that had been in hiding for who knows how long. But her being apart of it wasn't going to be the norm. After the initial waves of fast armed Combat patrols they were in the midst of preforming, which shed only gotten back from recently, she knew the job would be taken from her by the slower ships, like the standards. Whether or not they were a fan of the idea, South didn't actually know. She hadn't had a chance to talk to any of them about it.

After the Inter Islands were the Water's Edge scouting runs. These missions were focused on where Japanese waters met the Pacific, their intent being to stop Abyssal forces from pushing further in. They'd be heavier armed than the Inter Island patrols, South knowing a majority of the standards would be here for the most part. And quite a few of their carriers that weren't built for speed. Essentially, everyone was being given roles now, and not just jumbled up mix-matched fleets of whoever they could grab.

After those came what South Dakota knew would be her domain. All the Fast battleships at that.

The Pacific Combat Sorties.

These were focused on punching well into the Pacific, drawing up whatever Abyssal fleets they could get at, and sending them back down below with holes in their chests and bleeding. These were built around the carriers capable of fast attacks and a lot of them. If she was being honest, South wasn't exactly sure how she felt about the idea, but she knew the Kongou's and the Iowa's were already getting giddy at the idea, including Mo. It was a little weird if she was being honest, seeing the normally calm woman so ready to go out and kill something, but she supposed everyone had their hobbies.

As scary as a thought that was.

After the Combat Sorties began the various sorties that South Dakota knew she herself would never grace with her presence for the simply fact of the need for she and her sisters elsewhere.

The first of these was the Bay Defense Fleets, sorties aimed at keeping Tokyo Bay secure. Largely ASW endeavors, aimed at keeping what happened to Pargo and Snook some months ago as a distant memory, they were also to serve as the starting point for most of the new girls now, letting them get their wits about them before they were divided up and sent on to fill their roles further up the ladder.

After that came the Fishing Industry Defenses. Being an Island country, Japan relied on it's waters more than countries like the US could know. Of course, it was still going on up to this point, but their current areas were drying up more and more by the day. The Admiralty figured that at this point, with their carrier lists looking like they were, they were betting on the fact they could spare some of the lighter girls to give them escort and let them get to work.

After that was the last of the new plans, which were simply Submarine Resupply runs. The ever growing Yokosuka Sub Core had been insisting to the Admiralty that they could start handling longer and longer deployment times, increasing their watch and info gathering capabilities while deployed. As helpful as it was, that meant they needed supplies delivered to them out on the water, rather than they coming to get them. Dakota knew there was a chance that she may have to provide on one of these every once and a while, but after so many Combat sorties, she figured it might be like a little mini vacation of sorts.

Dakota leaned back against the wall with what she could, given they needed her arm relatively still. And she would keep with that, largely just her head leaning against the wall. She knew all the new plans and deployments were need, especially what with the Abyssals showing one of their cards over in the Med, but that didn't mean she had to like it persay.

She knew the base was about to feel empty compared to what it was now.

And that didn't mention the fact that she worried for some of the smaller girls, like the destroyers. Before, they'd all been part of equally, well armed fleets. But now, they'd have to be able to fight on their own with minimal help or holdout until bigger guns could arrive on the off chance they ran into some big ugly motherfucker they hadn't been expecting.

Which, considering this was War, Dakota knew that the term off chance really didn't apply.

There was always a chance.

This was war, Dakota knew that. This was a war like no one alive had ever seen, nor did they know what to expect. Sure, right now the war seemed to have a track it was riding. But what happened when they mixed things up? It was them changing things this time around. How would the Abyssals react to it? What would they do to counter it?

None of it helped the pit that was building in the woman's stomach, not one bit.

Her attention however was brought back to her current whereabouts as yet another fairy, one of Dionysus's this time approached the side of her dock amongst her own fairies with a sign in hand. Holding it up to where South Dakota could see it, she held it in one stubby arm while pointing to the dock to her left.

"Hey!" The fairy told her as she wiggled the sign. The sign itself had a picture of a Battleship's silhouette, trying to tell the South Dakota which one they wanted to put next to her. Of course, South Dakota already knew which one it was.

"You don't have to ask me that, you know? I don't mind if you stick another of my own nation's battleships next to me. And especially not Wash. We clear?" She asked the fairy. Fairy in question only nodded in sudden understanding at what had been said before she pulled out what looked to be an equally tiny walkie talkie. Only a second later and what looked to be a heavily modified RC car came screeching out of the locker room. Dakota only blinked a moment as she watched it drift around the first corner before gunning it into the second corner, Dakota watching blankly the entire time.

And so was Wash, who'd just left the locker room. Missing some skin and muscle from the side of her face and arm, it was clear she was in for just as much of a repair job as Dakota was. Already, the space between Datoka's own dock and what was soon to be Wash's became even more cluttered as Wash's repair crew, composed also of repair ship fairies that would be working alongside her own, began to assemble as they waited for the Battleship.

Wash offered a smile in greeting to the battleship, making her look just a little less terrifying with the missing skin off the side of her face before she began to work on getting herself into the dock. Hanging the towel she'd wrapped herself in on the wall next to the space, she slowly but easily stepped into the dock before turning and lowering herself into it, sighing in contentment as the healing water's began to work on her superficial wounds as her repair crew began to set up for the real work.

It'd been South Dakota and Washington acting as the battleships apart of the sortie, but Washington had to check in with the Admirals given that she'd been acting flagship for their outing.

"Admiral Johnson have something to say about our getting hurt?" South asked with an amused tone in her voice. Wash made a noise somewhat indicative of an answer before shaking her head.

"I was simply making sure the report was thorough. She was making sure it was just the two of us who got hurt." Washington said as she leaned back into her dock, resting her arms on the side as she did so. Already, half of the repair crew was approaching her arm as the other half began to expand off of and build onto the scaffolding already present for South's repairs.

"Well we wouldn't have gotten hurt either had those stupid battleships not Banzaied us." She told her with a shake of the head. "It's just a good thing that we dealt with them as quickly as we did. But dear god, they were bold." She said.

"That they were, but what's done is done. How long are your repairs?" She asked as her right eye closed, no doubt being done so by her fairies so they could focus fully on the repairs.

"A solid nine." Dakota told her. "They missed anything truly crucial, lucky me I guess. It's just they managed to go straight through and through." She reasoned. "I could be worse I suppose." She reasoned.

"Like the torpedo Kirishima ate about twenty five minutes ago." Wash supplied her. Dakota blinked at that before turning to look at the battleship.

"Fuck." She said, her voice raising an octave, but not too loud. They weren't alone so they had to keep it down so those were napping could continue. "Is she alright? Where'd she eat it?" She asked.

"Port side, near the aft." She told her. "Nearly sheared off her rudder, but they managed to keep it together." Wash explained. "Kirishima insists that it's nothing to worry about and North Carolina's keeping an eye on her as they prepare for their return trip. If all goes well, they'll be back within six hours." She told her. South nodded at that as she returned to leaning her head against the wall, shaking it somewhat.

"I assume that's why you took so long with Admiral Johnson as well?" She asked. Washington nodded at that.

"Partly. She was also checking if we would rotate the Fletchers we had on our recent sortie in turn for a mix of the Asashio class and the Soldati class." She said. "Before we push onto the Combat sorties and our fleets become fixed." She told her. South furrowed her brow at that.

"Just the rush patrols right? We're not taking them into the Pacific with us, yeah?" She questioned. Wash nodded.

"Correct. Admiral Johnson just wants another pair of eyes on their abilities and they haven't been looked over by American battleships yet. They've had reports filed by the Bismarck's and Kongou, but they want a third opinion." She told her. South paused a moment at that.

"Are they giving us Kasumi?" She questioned.

"Most likely." Wash confirmed for her.

"Fuck." South cursed. "Little loud mouth, she is." She swore as she crossed her legs, bending at the knees just a little bit. Grumbling to herself, her lip curled in distaste. "Look, I know what with the docks already being built and all that jazz I know this might be a little hard, but could we not get somewhat of an overhaul here? I mean come on, these things were built for the Japs, not battleships like us." She said. Wash only chuckled somewhat at that.

"Oh come now, Dakota, it's not that bad." She told her. Dakota snorted in response to that statement.

"These things were built around the measurements of the first completed Battleship class on base, which was the Yamato's. Now, that's great and all, it really is, if they weren't fucking shorter than us." She said. "Look, it's not make believe, it's not made up science, it's fact. Western women are taller than their oriental peers on average and it's no different here. This is a crime, I say! A crime!" She cried. "I need my leg space! And maybe while we're at it, make these things a bit deeper. It's supposed to be a dock, not a kiddie pool." She told them, glancing down at her dock a moment.

"Such a grateful guest you are." Wash cheekily replied as her crew began to get her repairs underway.

"Shush you." Dakota replied, shaking her head somewhat as she went back to leaning her head back. "Look, I was talking with Oklahoma the other day about their sortie to Pearl? And the docks they have there, oh let me tell you-"

"I am aware of this Dakota. I did, after all, cross over during their sortie. It was one of the first things I discussed with them when they returned. I am aware of their size, but you make it sound like the ones we have been provided are unusable, which isn't the case." She offered her. "These docks are completely acceptable. You just refuse to accept you're being picky." She said with a slight chuckle.

"Look, all I'm asking is for three more inches. Is that so hard to ask for?" She questioned.

"Careful with who you go asking that to. You might hurt some feelings." Wash laughed, more to herself than anything, as Dakota offered a confused glance at the saying before shaking her head.

"I'm serious though. Even the standards, as... full as they are can fit in these things. Why can't we?" She questioned. Wash snorted in response, her right fist balling somewhat as the welding torches started up against her skin.

"Dakota, please tell me you didn't just call the Standards-"

"I didn't and you know it. I'm just saying, compared to the likes of you and me, they're... plump." She said. "At least, comparatively speaking when comparing them and us." She said. "I mean, I guess it makes sense given they're built for brawls?" She said, glancing at the roof as her mind began to wander. But then she shook herself from the tracks, bringing herself back to the present. "I don't know." She eventually said. Wash only chuckled somewhat at that as she nodded.

"You seem to be a little frazzled if I'm being honest. Even back then, after Kirishima went down, you just wouldn't stop talking. What's got you worried now?" She questioned. If she could've, South knew the battleship would be watching her under a careful gaze.

But this was also nothing new, not to her. Wash had always been doting, and specifically on her, South knew. She'd never openly asked the battleship about it, she'd never questioned it, but sometimes South wondered if it was because in an age where most of their classes were at least three strong, the North Carolina's were an outlier. South reasoned that all of Wash's caring side was carrying over to her because Wash was never 'The older sister.' For Wash, she'd always be the little sister, with no one lower than her.

It was both a blessing and a curse.

"I don't know... I guess I've just been thinking about the Jersey situation?" She told her.

"You're worried about Bam-Bam?" She questioned.

"I mean yeah, of course I am. Look if someone were to ask me if I'm completely comfortable with the idea- with the fact that Alabama's out there on the other side of the world, so fully separated from the fleet, I'd be honest. I'm not. Especially with that big ugly motherfucker apparently rearing her head for a second round." She said, her tone dropping in both volume and tone. "Look, I'm glad Jersey came through alright after that shit show, but if I have to face Alabama if she comes through after she'd been sunk, I'd fucking lose my mind Wash. The idea of, regardless of the Gateway, Alabama being sunk in any degree? It's nightmarish and hellish to even think about, let alone discuss." She told her.

"Have you talked to Indiana or Massachusetts about this?" Wash inquired.

"And say what? Oh, by the way, your oldest sister is having a fucking panic attack at the idea of her baby sister dying on the other side of the globe alone. Forget telling them, I don't even know how to tell myself that it's going to be alright in the end." She said. "Look, I'm glad the Gateway thought we could help again, but if it just wanted to leave out all these stupid emotions we were stuck with, yeah that'd been great. I mean come on, they just need the hulls, they just need our guns. They didn't have to drag we ourselves back like this." She said. "And by the way, you know if she ever hears you call her by that nickname, she's gonna kill one of us, right?" She questioned. "Most likely both just to play damage control." She said.

Wash only laughed at that, much to the enjoyment of South.

"You laugh now, Wash, but both know she'll beat the shit out of us for it." She reasoned.

"Oh I know, South. I very well know, but that's neither here nor there given she's not made her appearance yet." She laughed. "I will feel free to call her Bam-Bam as I please." She reasoned.

"That is your funeral Wash." South came back.

"And maybe it is." Wash affirmed before calming herself down somewhat. "But maybe you bring this to the attention of the Admiral or Captain? I don't know if they can push along the timetable for summoning Alabama, but perhaps they can alleviate your fears on the subject?" Wash questioned. "I would hate to think that you're just sitting there every day, making yourself ill with thoughts of worry or what if. You know, perhaps you should ask Captain Algerona about this in particular." She told her.

"Captain Algerona?" South questioned. "What's the Captain gonna do for me? Oh wait, is this about her sister? Wash, I know where Alabama is though."

"That hardly means it won't prove worthwhile to try." She told her, a smile tugging at her lips. South shrugged her one shoulder at the thought.

"I dunno... maybe." She eventually said. "Uh, while we're on the subject of things that's gonna be a bitch in the long run, who decided that our upper works needed to be these fucking obvious?" She questioned. "Like, yeah I get it, I know I'm a battleship. Big fucking whoop. I do not need all of this strapped to my chest thank you." She huffed. Once again, Wash laughed at that as her fairies got fully underway with her repairs, now also starting on her facial repairs.

"What? You don't like them? I'm quite fond of mine." She told her.

"Yeah that's because you have a Jap battleship that can't fucking take her eyes off of them. Those glasses are not just for helping her see, I'm telling you right now." She said with a laugh. Wash joined her laughter with her own as the two enjoyed one another's company for the moment. 

But when their laughter subsided, Wash only sighed. "There will always be fears about this, always unknowns. But allowing them to control you to a degree where they're deciding your actions for you, you can't allow it to come to that." Wash said with a bout of finality.

"Fuck emotions." South finally declared. Washington snorted in response.

"Well said." She told her. South only nodded as she watched the various mismatched fairies between their docks go about their business as new supplies began to roll up from where ever they kept it.

"I don't know. I guess this whole thing just has me tearing down six different roads at ten different speeds." South said.

"If anything else, you do know that you can sleep, no?" Wash questioned. South Dakota shrugged at that.

"I mean sure, but that's no fun. Besides, I think Massachusetts and Haruna are getting back soon, aren't they?" She asked. But before Wash could answer her, South found her attention being drawn back to the fairies. She watched a moment as a gathering of her fairies were seeming to be yelling up in the general direction of Wash, but they weren't saying anything.

Which meant if South couldn't hear it, they were actually talking to-

There, she spied them, a trail of Wash's fairies emerging onto the scaffolding built up between the two of them. Immediately, most of them were centering their focus on the group of South's own fairies, which were also quickly building in numbers. South paused a moment.

"Wash." South said.

"Yes South?" Wash replied.

"They're doing it again." South told her.

"The thing?" Wash inquired.

"The thing." South confirmed.

South Dakota watched as more and more of their fairies began to meet at the halfway point between their two docks. As she did so, as she watched the two groups square up, she planted her still functional hand to her face.

There'd always been a feud between their crews, largely focused on who'd landed that final shot on Kirishima. Even back during the war, when they docked together, their crews would skirmish with one another, with those who hadn't gone to land watching from their ships.

But as she did so, as she watched them, she could hear something. She could hear what almost sounded like-

"I know you bastards are not using my sound system to play fucking duel of the fates!" South demanded. But it was a moot point now, they were already set in their ways.

The second her fairies caught wind of the music, they pushed their chance.

The two crews collided in a mess of stubby limbs, vicious war cries of 'Hey', and what South could only describe as what looked to be fisticuffs.

As Wash listened in worriedly and South went about about trying to lock her fairies out of her Sound equipment for the time being, what sounded like sirens began to wail from the Locker room as three RC fire Engines drifted into the first corner, already making their way towards the scuffle. And as they did so, South spotted three fairies on each of the Engine's water cannons.

"Oh no."

If they were heavy enough to come to screeching stops, they would've as the three fire engines came to a stop in front of the skirmish. Immediately, an Akashi fairy stepped out in front of them with a megaphone, which she gladly hefted before her as she brought it up to her mouth.

"Hey hey hey, hey, hey hey hey hey!" She demanded. But when her apparent demands were not met, the fairies working about on the scaffolding casting their gaze down to the group, the Akashi fairy only shook her head somewhat before she put her hand up in a solitary fashion.

And then slammed it down like a guillotine.

South Dakota could only watch in mute horror as the water cannons let loose on the ensuing brawl. But to no one's surprise, it did nothing to stop it.

The battleship only sighed as she settled in for a long dock stay.

—__—/\—/\—__—

Her hand met her alarm clock five minutes before it went off, her motion seeming to all but stop there for a moment. If one were to make a quick observation, one might even guess that she'd fallen asleep in the few brief moments of making sure the alarm did not wake her roommates. But after another few moments of silence, the only sounds currently belonging to the room's tenants, did her fingers flex a moment before pressing down on the Alarm clock, cancelling it for now so it would renew the next day.

Battleship Richelieu offered herself only a quiet yawn as she felt her crew slowly haul themselves from their bunks as they too began to get up for another day of service. Their ship however, Richelieu herself, made no such moves much to her personal chagrin.

One of the things the battleship had learned about herself in her first days on base alone, let alone the month later she now found herself, was that she was all but useless without caffeine. This had it's own set of trials and tribulations associated with it of course, but for the moment, the battleship's need for early morning caffeine without having to head to the nearest coffee maker was simply to down a cup before bed. As odd as it was, she knew and had been called out on it, it for the most part seemed to do the job that she needed it to.

Eventually though, Richelieu knew she had to get up, lest she suddenly decide to simply fall back asleep. Stifling another yawn as she covered her mouth, taking extra steps not to awaken either of her roommates, the battleship slowly began to pull herself off of her bed.

Her entire view of the mornings in general made no sense and she knew it. She adored the mornings, but she herself couldn't possibly function without the lifeblood that she'd come to know. Raising up off of her bed, sitting there a moment as she rubbed her face, her eyes darting to the closest roommate of Yamakaze, and then Strasbourg beyond her in the next bed. She watched them a moment amongst the darkness of the room before her body ached and screamed at her to get moving. Eventually, she listened to it, standing as she quietly moved towards her dresser.  Digging out what she needed, namely her outfit for the day, the French battleship slipped from her shared room in a quiet, unheard manner.

And straight into the strangling lights of the hallway. They really weren't even all that bright if she was being honest, but it was the matter of the thing. They weren't bright, but she'd just woken up so her eyes weren't that adjusted. She squinted a moment while she waited a moment, listening to hear if she could tell if anyone else was awake. But when she heard no indication that anyone was yet, aside from maybe the three Cafe tenders that she knew would already be at their respective station, she nodded in satisfaction. That would mean she would have the baths largely to herself.

Now, that didn't mean that she had problems with those who she shared a building with, because that simply wasn't the case. Largely, the Japanese girls had been excellent hosts, treating her with a quiet acknowledgement and respect. Maybe it helped that their countries never fully met during the war, given that both had it's own fair share of problems.

France's problem? Germany.

Japan's problem? The U.S.

Well, among others, but those two were the outliers. But she'd also be lying if she said she'd never thought about the what ifs. What if Germany hadn't made it to Paris so quickly in the grand scheme of things, if their navy hadn't been split like it had. Would she have gotten a better chance to know those of the Royal Navy, or even herself made her own way over to the Pacific to assist there? She really didn't know, after all it was all in theory and no actual practice to it.

That being said, she hadn't really found all that much of a conversation partner in those that fell under the Royal Navy's banner. And not including the destroyers, that left only five of them.

Her first instance of holding a conversation with Ark Royal had gone the exact opposite of well, Richelieu knew, as she began to quietly make way for the stairs. Of course, it could have gone better, and Rich herself knew that she wasn't remembering everything the way she should.

Ark Royal aside, Richelieu had never really made any sort of attempt to hold a proper conversation with the two British cruisers currently calling Yokosuka their home. And she'd never held interest in trying to properly talk to Argus in a meaningful way. And the less said about Richelieu's feelings on Dreadnought, the better.

To make a long story short though, the British Battleship intimidated the hell out of Richelieu.

And the French battleship herself knew that it didn't make sense, not in any understandable way to her. But whenever ever it came to approaching the British battleship with any intent of a conversation, Richelieu's nerves would freeze up and send her off in a direction that wasn't her intended choice.

On one side of that internal issue, Richelieu was okay with the outcome because it meant keeping the problems between the British and French fleets. But on the other side of that issue meant there was no common ground, there was no built up trust between them for when their fleets actually arrived in force. Already, the German and British fleets were on far better terms with each other and they had been enemies from the start, yet Ark Royal was not looking like she was going to tear Bismarck's head off for looking to approach Hood when she finally arrived.

Was it not her job to make sure her fellow fleet mates had a spot amongst those of the British, German, American, Japanese and so on? In a way, Richelieu wished that it had been Jean here first and not herself. She'd always been so much better with people than Rich had been, and right now those people skills would pay dividends.

The Battleship eased herself down the stairs, descending from the Battleship level of the dorms to the Cruiser level, the first floor. She immediately turned right, making way for the bathhouse that sat in the middle of the building. As she walked along, she glanced at the doors, some marked and some not, indicating that some rooms had owners and others had been sitting vacant since the start of this war.

Richelieu stifled another yawn from within as she approached the door to the baths, pulling it open and slipping inside. From just where she was standing, she could tell there wasn't another soul awake yet, which served her perfectly fine. Japanese bathing etiquette was an odd beast on it's own to her, but she found the idea of living in their dorms only to go to the American dorms for a shower as incredibly rude. So she sucked it up and went with the flow of things. And she would admit, after the first few days of figuring it out, albeit with some help from her neighbors, it was almost relaxing in a way.

As the door closed behind her, securing her privacy, she went about making sure her clean clothes were in their proper place, in one of the baskets before her with her name on it. Every Japanese ship girl had their own basket for their clothes on these racks, normally organized by height. It was a little odd, Richelieu admitted to herself, that she was among one of the tallest ones in the dorms.

But it also didn't bother her that much, as that meant most of the younger girls wouldn't see her basket and decide on impulse to screw with her stuff.

Making sure her stuff was securely in her basket, she pushed it back against the wall as she then went about stripping herself, slipping out of her sleeping clothes, the warm breeze on her newly exposed skin a welcome one to be sure. She quickly discarded her used clothing in one of the many laundry hampers waiting there, making sure to put hers in one of the few labeled Battleships, before continuing on into the next room.

The first time she'd been in here, it had surprised her.

From the outside of the Japanese dorm building, you could easily tell that both Bathrooms, the one on the first floor and the one on the third, sat directly in the middle of the building. But looking on from the outside. It was only when you got a look inside, which comparatively, was a very low amount of people that had ever been in this room. Not even Ishigara had been in here before.

When she'd first seen it, she hadn't been sure if this room had been modeled after the docks or Vice versa, given that she didn't know which had been built first.

The room itself was fairly long, on other side sitting wall high mirrors. At the bottom of the two wall length mirrors sat a shelf that ran the same length. Every four feet sat what Richelieu supposed could be called a shower head, though these were far slimmer and detachable. Down the center of the room sat five fairly well sized group baths, elevated off of the ground somewhat. If Richelieu had to guess, she would dare say that if they tried, they could fit just about every single American and Japanese battleship in one at once. Not that they were ever that full of course, but the point was there.

After rinsing herself once or twice with one of the shower heads, Richelieu eased herself into the first bath, the hot water stinging at her skin in a pleasant way. Settling fully, sinking down to just over her chest, Richelieu rested her head against the edge of the bath, her eyes slipping closed a moment. She couldn't fall asleep in here, she knew, but she could take a moment to herself.

Unfortunately for that plan however, it wasn't to be. Just as she'd been resting all for a few moments, she heard the door to the changing room open. She could hear their voices, she could hear them. But as her sleep addled brain tried to come up with answers as to who it may be, her brain decided that was the time to draw a blank. Richelieu exhaled a long sigh against the heat of the bath.

She waited a moment longer before the door swung open, to the point where she could hear their voices in full. And then the owners of voices in question made themselves known, the first coming in the form Tone and Chikuma, neither bothering with a towel. Their compatriots however, Myokou and Nachi, had no such plans of freely showing themselves to whoever wanted a peak if the towels they were wrapped in said anything. It was a solid moment before the dark haired battleship was noticed, but after a moment, the European ship girl was finally noticed.

"Oooooh, is that a Frenchie I see?" Tone asked in a dramatic fashion as she entered the Bathhouse, leaning forward as she put a hand over her eyes, as if she was trying to keep the sun from interfering from her vision. Richelieu only offered a smile in greeting amongst the steam and heat of the room.

"Tone, please do not bother other people out of the blue." Chikuma scolded her sister as she got her moving.

"And please for all that's good about the world, don't bend over suddenly when you don't have clothes on." Nachi grumbled as she walked alongside Myokou, who simply offered a laugh at the happening. Tone grumbled as the four cruisers made their way to the right side of the room, each of them taking a seat on a stool, Richelieu's back now to them. She could somewhat make them out through the steam by using the opposite mirror, but it was largely a fruitless endeavor. "So what brings you here, Richelieu?" Nachi questioned as the battleship heard four of the nozzles pop on.

"I get up this time every morning." Richelieu told her. "It's just that this is the first time I've run into any of you after the first few days of my being on base." She told them.

"Every morning?" Chikuma asked in surprise. "That.. that takes commitment." She said, somewhat in awe. Richelieu snorted in amusement as Tone cackled in turn, being elbowed by her younger sister for the action.

"I'd always wondered why I would never see you entering here during the day." Myokou offered. "But I suppose that explains many things." She said. Richelieu nodded in response at that as she heard the nozzles flick off, the water coming from them stopping altogether. A moment later, Tone popped up In Richelieu's vision, the other three soon following after her as the four of them joined Richelieu in the water, they taking a moment to settle.

"And what may the four of you be doing up so early?" Richelieu questioned.

"Tone and I are having some further issues out on the water. I would like to see them resolved, so I asked Myokou and Nachi if they'd be willing to help us. Luckily for the two of us, they're more than happy to do so." She admitted.

"I'm just glad that someone's actually taking notice of us. I mean, I understand that not everyone will fit everyone's needs." Nachi said. "But why is it always Takao and Atago that's the go to for helping with training?" She questioned.

"Haven't they been on base longer than the two of you, though?" Tone questioned as she glanced to the two. Nachi huffed at that as Myokou nodded.

"They were, but it is nice to be somewhat needed aside from the Sorties." She said before glancing to Richelieu. "So are you any more comfortable using our style of bathing? You know no one will hold it against you should you want to go to something more familiar." She said. Richelieu shook her head.

"Even if I wasn't, I couldn't do that. There'd be no reason for me to sleep here if I was just going to go off to the American buildings to clean myself." She said. "Among other things, that's horribly rude, especially after some of you worked so hard to try and accommodate me." She said. Myokou merely smiled in return as Nachi nodded her head in confidence.

"We really did." She said.

"That being said, how're you feeling Richelieu?" Chikuma asked. "I can imagine that you're more than ready for your country's Admiral to arrive already, no?" She questioned. Richelieu paused at the question a moment before her expression shifted somewhat, prompting Chikuma to arch a brow. "You're... not?" She asked.

"I haven't done nearly enough to be any sort of excited for my fellow fleet mates to arrive here." She told them.

"Enough?" Myokou questioned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm worried." Richelieu told them. "My lack of outreach to the current representatives of the Royal Navy is going to cause problems." At that however, Tone blinked.

"Why would you be nervous? I thought Britain and France were allies in the war." She said.

"That's not quite a correct statement for many reasons." Nachi told Tone. "But that aside, the two World Wars are outliers in Britain and France's well storied relationship." She told her.

"Outliers?" Chikuma questioned.

"They're outliers." Nachi confirmed. "Because they were allies. Beyond the twentieth century if you're going backwards, Britain and France's relationship usually involves them pointing weapons at one another or being very uneasy with one another." She explained before looking to Richelieu. "Are you afraid your fleet's relationship with those of the Royal Navy are going to resemble the past?" The heavy cruiser asked.

"I don't know." Richelieu said. "What I do know is that my attempts are all but non-existent." She said. Nachi and Myokou traded a glance before they looked to the Battleship.

"Surely you've said something to one of the British Ship girls on base." Myokou said.

"Sure. On the day both myself and Ark Royal was summoned." She said with a shake of the head.

"You mean in the kitchen right before Admiral Hipper got handsy with Admiral Johnson?" Tone questioned, Chikuma shooting her a dirty look for the attempted joke.

"That one." Richelieu confirmed. Tone cringed as she got her sister to lay off.

"That's.. that's not a great way to start off a relationship, true." Tone confirmed. "But it's not like Ark Royal is the only British Ship on base. And hardly the most influential of their fleet, what with both Argus and Dreadnought on base. Talked to either of them?" Tone asked. Richelieu shook her head as she rubbed her face a moment.

"This is going to sound... somewhat ridiculous... but Dreadnought... greatly intimidates me." She slowly, but carefully admitted. The four heavy cruisers stared at her for a moment at that news.

"What." Tone offered. "Dreadnought's like the most-"

"Before you make Richelieu regret opening up to us, let's keep that in mind for later." Chikuma offered before she looked back to the battleship. "What about Argus? Have you talked to her?" She asked. Richelieu shook her head at that.

"No. The most words I've traded with any of the British ship girls consist of Royalist and Bellona." She said. "France is supposed to be an allied country, but all I've done is sit and wait." She sighed. "A far difference from what Bismarck has accomplished for her fleet." She said.

"Why are you comparing yourself to Bismarck?" Nachi asked. "Just because she managed to get on a friendly level with Ark Royal? That hardly means anything. Just because she's willing to be friendly with Bismarck on a personal level doesn't automatically mean their entire fleet will feel the same way. Remember, Bismarck practically had Britain rally against her. She won't be able to just shrug that off. Look, you're thinking about this far too straight and narrow." She said. "It's not all just black and white like you're hoping to think this is." Nachi told her.

"Look at the relations between the Japanese and American fleets." Myokou told her. "For the most part, there's a fairly level stability that exists there. But there's examples of where it doesn't. Such as Saratoga and the Shoukaku's. Or Battleship Row and the Kido Butai." She told her. "You can try as much as you want to solve the drift, but that's only if everyone is willing to work for it as well. Which they aren't always willing to do so." She told her.

"Why is this your sole responsibility anyways?" Tone asked. "Just because you're a battleship doesn't automatically mean it falls to you."

"And who am I supposed to leave it to? Valmy? Guepard?" Richelieu questioned.

"No, but you're phrasing this like you're the only French battleship to ever live, which isn't the case. Running a fleet isn't a one person job, you know." Chikuma said. Richelieu paused at that, sighing somewhat.

"What was your experiences like? When the Americans hadn't arrived yet?" Richelieu questioned as she looked to the two Myokou's present. The two sisters traded a glance at the question before they looked back to the woman.

"Nervous." Myokou told her.

"Very nervous." Nachi confirmed. "Even the first day we found about it, which was like a month or two before they actually got here, there was unease to be sure. And not just the older girls either. Even the destroyers were hesitant in some regards, the first days some of them couldn't get to sleep. We'd been told that essentially the nation, one of the major reasons most of us sunk, was coming to live next to us. It was... daunting to say the least." She told her.

"And we've never said this, never told it to any of them, but a majority of the Capital ships and those of us who knew what was going on." Myokou began. "We... we hated that the first battleship they summoned back was Arizona." She told her.

"H-hated?" Richelieu questioned, as if she hadn't heard her correctly.

"Hated." Myokou told her. "It's not as straight forward as it sounds however. Back then, back during the war, when it had been discovered that our operation of Pearl Harbor had failed in one of it's main objectives, Arizona became our silver lining. That it hadn't all been for nought. That we hadn't just made a mistake. She became a Martyr for them, and a hope for us." She explained. "And then when Admiral Johnson and Captain Algerona summoned their first seven, their lone Battleship being the one we used to calm our own minds, it was... twisted to us in a sense. Admiral Johnson often jokes the Gateway likes to mess with people, but she's no idea of just how right she is."

"With that being said though." Nachi told her. "There is no reason to believe that you alone have to do it. It was never just one of us interacting with those of the first Americans, and it is doubtful, at least to us, that you should put it on you and you alone to do the same with the British. You do not have a full fleet, but you do have two cruisers and Strasbourg with you. You should see what their thoughts are on the matter and make a move from there. And if anything else, you can always ask for outside help. You're weary you're not doing as much as Bismarck, but that doesn't mean you can't ask Bismarck for help regarding this matter. We are a fleet after all." She told her.

Richelieu seemed to think on that a moment as the silence settled over them a moment before finally, Richelieu began to nod somewhat.

"It is possible you have a good point." She said. "And after all, I do have a few months still too. It's not like they're going to show up out of the blue in the next few days." She reasoned. Myokou and Nachi nodded at that as Chikuma did as well. At that however, Tone looked back to Richelieu.

"This still doesn't take way from the fact that you are excited for your own country and finally having representation on base, no?" She questioned. At that, Richelieu simply smiled.

—/—/—/—/—

The Cafe was quiet that night, even the tenders no where in sight. She supposed it was good fortune, she figured it might be her own influence keeping them at bay. But at the end of the day, she really didn't know why. What she did know though was that she was appreciative of the quiet, as that meant she could read in peace.

But it wasn't as if she hated the noise, that she dislike the daily lives of base. Because she didn't, she really didn't. How could she, when there were so many people to talk to? So many different views on things to take in and consider? In her opinion, being granted this life was one of the best things to ever happen to her. And as a post war ship, it was made just that much sweeter.

Crimson eyes glided over the page in ease, the owner of the book occasionally sipping at the beverage Yancey had provided for her, the food-ship standing at the bar making sure that no last minute visitors were going to pop in. Watching her a moment, Newport New's eyes travelled back down to the book before her.

If you were to ask the heavy cruiser of what she thought about being human, what she thought about being reborn like she'd been, she would tell you she absolutely adored it. She would go on and on about the various and new and interesting experiences she'd had thus far and yet planned on having. Life was an adventure to the Des Moines, one that she fully intended on living to the best of her ability.

But beyond that, Newsie had already found so much to be thankful for. And she could count them on one hand.

Lexington. Yorktown. Hornet.
And not to forget Shangri-La.

A deep, relaxing sigh sounded from her lips as thoughts of the four intruded her mind, slipping into it's deepest recesses and filling her mind with images that would make even the most experienced people blush. Already, they were her everything, and she hadn't even gotten to the fun part yet. Right now, it was only talking, only getting to know them. But she gave them her undivided attention, her smile like wine, her voice like silk, she would have them breaking for her.

There was Lexington, the 'oldest' of the four, she'd been here the longest. And as one of the first seven of the American fleet, Lexington held a maturity about her in this new life the others could not match yet.

Then there came Yorktown, the self appointed leader of their class currently on base. Oldest of the four that were currently on base, she had immediately assumed her role of older sister amongst them. Keeping Lexington grounded, keeping Hornet in one piece, keeping Shangri-La calm. She had an allure that the other three could not match, even if they tried.

After she came Hornet, the self appointed jokester of the four. Hornet always had a smile on her face and laughter on her lips. A day when Hornet was not smiling was a day Newport News would kill. Her happiness was Newsie's everything, and her smile was Newsie's addiction.

The last of the four, who Newsie viewed as her personal challenge, was Shangri-La. The youngest of the four, she felt she had something to prove amongst her older sisters, that she had something to show, it gave her an attitude, a show that had found a viewer in the form of Newsie.

The Heavy cruiser purred she turned the page of her book, now reading the next page as her chin rested against her open hand, propped up by her elbow. She quietly read alone, her breathing steady and calm as she did so.

In someways, she wished she'd had it as easy as her sister, her mind wandering to thoughts of Salem and her toys. She knew Salem wasn't romantically involved with the two of them, not in the same way like E and Akagi were. Baltimore and Portland were an item through and through, Salem was simply there to provide direction and firm control where it was needed. Cause heaven knows the two heavy cruisers couldn't dominate a pillow if their lives depended on it.

But in other ways, the build up, the pressure, the building need, Newsie looked forwards to it all. In someways, she wished there was more slots open, more space to bring through new faces. But the more she thought about it, she knew she'd have her hands full for a long while the four she had before her.

The sound of the Cafe door opening however brought her attention from her book to who'd just walked in. And when she did, she found herself somewhat interested at the new patron. After all, it wasn't everyday one had Admiral Johnson all to herself.

She watched as the blonde approached Yancey, the food-ship offering her a smile as the woman took her order. After she'd done so, while Anya was waiting, she noted Newport News sitting against the window. Offering the heavy cruiser a wave, a gesture that Newport returned with ease, Anya waited a few more moments before Yancey offered the woman her drink. Nodding in thanks, saying a few last words to the girl, Anya turned and made way for the cruiser and her table for two. Seeing this coming, Newsie slowly closed the book after marking her position as she moved it to the side. Gesturing to the chair across from her, Newsie offered a greeting smile as she watched the woman pull the chair out and take a seat.

Anya settled into her seat and offered another smile, something Newsie knew she was in no short supply of, as the blonde looked to Newsie. "And how are we today, Newport?" She questioned.

"Please, call me Newsie. Only DM calls me Newport." She said. "I've been good. Can I say the same for you?" She asked. Anya nodded at that as she sipped at her drink as Newsie watched as the woman physically relaxed somewhat.

"It's been easy enough I suppose, aside from the usual problems and complaints that arise from the fleet, typically and usually directed at one another. But that's just every other day." She said. "I apologize for not having more chats with you since you've crossed over, but everything's just been a whirlwind, what with Jersey and Johnny, your group, and trying to figure out what the after effects of the med are gonna be." She said. Newsie simply replied with not a word, but a nod of the head. After a moment though, Newsie cupping her drink in both hands, she smiled.

"Do you try to talk to all of us as you do with the likes of Enterprise or Atlanta?" She asked. Anya smiled at that as she nodded.

"I try, and I do a good job, or at least I think I do." She said. "It's something I'd like to keep up with, keeping up with you all. It's a challenge for sure, but I like to think myself capable." She said in return. Newsie smiled at that as she sipped at her drink.

"I wonder if that mindset will last a few months from now, when the Gateway's potentially expanded. Tell me, years down the road, when our fleets numbering in over three hundred for just our country alone, do you see yourself the best for the job?" She questioned.

"Awwww, don't you have any faith in me, Newsie?" She questioned with a grin. Newsie only smiled in return at that as she gently placed her cup on the table before her.

"Not at all. Even thus far and things I've only heard talk of, you've been doing a splendid job, especially with the girls that require more trust than those like myself." She said. Anya paused at that before furrowing her brow somewhat at what'd been said.

"More trust?" She questioned. Newport News nodded at the question, sipping at her drink.

"Well of course." She said. "A ship like me requires far less maintenance then those like Enterprise or Arizona. It's nothing against them though, but the war took it's toll on everyone. Now, after this war, whether or not the same will still be true I do not know." She told her. Anya nodded at that a moment.

"It's a fair point I suppose. But I'm not sure your fellow ship girls would enjoy being so casually tossed into a category." Anya offered. Newsie only smiled at that as she glanced out the window moment before looking back to Anya.

"So what brings the almighty herself to the cafe this late?" She questioned. "I figured at least the Gleaves would be harassing you for your attention, what, with the head pats and cuddling that seems to run so rampant in your office." Newsie reasoned. Anya offered a chuckle mid drink, pausing so she didn't choke before finishing her sip.

"They have their needs, and I have my willing to give." She said. Newsie smiled at that.

"Mother Admiral all but confirmed. Tell me, when can I expect the Fletchers to be treated to the same?" Newsie questioned. But the shit eating grin, despite her short time on base, told Anya that the cruiser was being a jokester.

"Ha ha ha." Anya monotoned. "Someone thinks themselves a comedian." She told her. Newsie smiled in response, sipping at her drink again. "I won't lie and say they wouldn't benefit if they had someone to fill a mother role for them, but I doubt that's gonna be me." She told her. Newsie nodded.

"I don't know. I could see Fletcher or Kidd, or heavens help her, Willie D. Looking to you for something other than leadership. Why do you think you went to the Gleaves? Was it simply because they were the first American destroyers on base?" She questioned.

"I'm not really sure honestly." Anya offered in reply. "Like, obviously, my intention was never to have it get to this point." She said. "But intentions and practice can end up getting away from one another." She said. "Never expected to be a mother this young." She admitted. Newsie snorted.

"You're what? In your thirties?" She asked. Anya scowled at the question, much to the enjoyment of the heavy cruiser, before Anya chuckled.

"Okay, so young isn't the perfect word. But young's comparative when I remember who I'm talking to. You were what, laid down in '45?" She asked, a playful grin tugging at her lips. This time, Newsie's lips pulled into a thin line as she narrowed her eyes at the woman, Anya's amused expression hiding behind the rim of her cup. After a moment though, Newsie's frown broke away as she chuckled, gruff and brief, but a chuckle nonetheless.

"That still doesn't answer me." She said. Anya sighed as she stared into her cup for a moment.

"If I could, if I knew it in myself to do it, I would give them anything they wanted, anything they asked for. But the Gleaves already tear and pull at my sanity, and they're fewer in numbers than the Fletchers. And this isn't even bringing the rest of their classes into the discussion." She said. "I love each and every one of them, but I'm only one person." She said. "And this isn't even solely about the American destroyers. The Mutsuki's. The Fubuki's. The Z's, the Q's, the V's. They all need someone and if I could, I would gladly." She said. "But I can't. So I'll stay in my lane with the Gleaves and that'll be that." She said. Newsie watched her a moment before smiling, glancing down at her drink.

"How we got so lucky to have someone like you in charge of us, I will never know." She said. "I suppose we have the Navy and your parents to thank for making it happen." She said. Anya blinked at that for frowning somewhat.

"My parents? I don't know what-"

"Your mother did birth you, did she not?" Newsie questioned with a brow arched. "Or has human reproduction changed that drastically in the decades since I've physically been amongst the world?" She asked. Anya blanched for a tick before pursing her lips, sipping at her drink.

"Never mind." She said. Newsie only smiled in return, having the foresight not to push the subject sitting before her. After a moment, Newsie looked to the Admiral.

"Tell me, if this war ends on a favorable note for us, for Humanity. What do you see yourself doing?" She questioned. Anya paused before answering her.

"I suppose I'd probably stay with the Navy. We are gonna have to rebuild after all and I figure I should put my oh so high and mighty rank to actual use in terms of helping with that." She said with a small little smile. But Newsie saw it for what it was, for what it meant.

There was no happiness behind that smile.

Newsie however accepted the answer, nodding at it. That was a button to push later, a path to walk some other time. She knew the woman before her was her Admiral, but that didn't mean she had the right to dive into her psyche any more than the next person.

A deep silence settled between the two of them, Newsie sipping at her drink with both hands as she glanced out the window as Anya looked down at hers. After a moment, Anya looked up to her. "I do have a question that I've been meaning to address for the last few days." She eventually said.

"Hm?" Newsie asked, her eyes finding their way to Anya.

"The Essex Question." Anya answered her. Newsie's eyes widened by fractions as it began to sprinkle outside, the light pitter-patter of rain sounding away against the window.

"The Essex Question." Newsie repeated a moment before turning to face the woman dead on. "You say you've been meaning to ask this?" She questioned further. Anya nodded at that as she looked to the cruiser sitting across from her.

"Well, it somewhat warrants a few questions here and there when the first notable thing about you is watching you lick your lips at the mention of an Essex sister." She said. "It kind of sticks with a person, you know." She said. Newsie looked surprised, or at least she had the audacity, before returning to normal.

"I suppose that's a valid point." She reasoned. "But in all honesty, can you really blame a woman for having her tastes?" She asked with a smile. Anya snorted at that.

"Okay, I don't want you talking around the question. I want you to be forwards here with me. Are you looking to make some weird Essex class relationship?" She asked.

"No." Newsie replied. "I am not looking to mash the Essex class into one large relationship with me in the middle. They are sisters, you know." She said. Anya nodded slowly.

"So then what are you shooting for?" She asked. Newsie offered her a small smile at the question, putting her cup on the table as she rested her face in her hands, they cupping her chin on either side.

"What I seek to provide is someone they can come to to relax with, to vent, to allow their worries to fade. They are our largest class of carrier, and a crucial aspect of this war. Sure, we only have four now. But four-five months down the road, when we potentially have eight? Ten? Tell me Admiral, who is paying them their dues? Who is making sure they're alright? That their needs are being met?" She questioned. Anya openly paused at that before shaking her head.

"I'm not seeing how this isn't a relationship." She said.

"Because there's no obligation on their end." Newsie told her. "They're not obligated to come to me, they're not obligated to spend time with me. I'm only here as an option for them." She told her.

"So what? You're like... an Essex Rest stop for the weary?" Anya questioned. Newsie smiled.

"Exactly. I simply want to make sure our biggest and arguably one of our most important carrier groups is well cared and sought after." She said. "Do you really expect me to honestly want to try and harm the likes of Lala or Horney? Or Lexi or Yorkie? Essie would hang me by my ears, I tell you." She said. Anya paused.

"Essie? I assume that means Essex." She reasoned

"And it does." Newsie confirmed for her. "Please, Admiral, do you really expect these women to go through life without someone admiring all of the handiwork that went into them? They were built to be the best of the best, and I personally see it as a shame if even an ounce of all that hard work were left un-admired." She said.

"You're really trying to push this hard." Anya chuckled as she watched. "And what if I tell you to drop it, hmm? What if I tell you that at the end of the day, that what you're doing is bound to get someone hurt? You say you're not looking for a relationship, but one, two of them are bound to get attached beyond this... relaxation thing you're going for. What then? Newsie, someone's going to get hurt." She told her.

"I won't say your fears are invalid, because they're not. But it's the perfect time to start, don't you think?" She inquired. "There's only four of them on base, if there's gonna be problems, the number of how many shouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things. And besides, what I'm intending is tame compared to some of the people in the world, with mind you, far less savory intentions." She told her. "But to tell you your earlier question, you say drop it, and I'll drop it. But life's no fun without a little risk, a little reward. I'd like to think myself capable of figuring of if things will go wrong before they do." She told her.

Anya watched the heavy cruiser a moment before sighing, bowing her head somewhat.

"Theres a voice in my head telling me letting this walk away from this table is going to be a bad idea, that it's not ideal. And as your superior, I have the ability to tell you no. But at the end of the day, you're the ones fighting this war on the front, you're all adults, you can make your own decisions and settle it like normal people." She said. "So I'm not gonna step in yet, but the second any of them come to me with a problem or anything of the sort, I'm casting your ass up the flagpole." She said. "Am I understood?" She questioned.

"Perfectly." Newport said with a smile. Anya held her tongue a moment after that before chuckling

"I say all that, but on one condition." She told her.

"Certainly." Newport agreed. "What're the terms?" She inquired.

"What's going on with your sister? With Baltimore and Portland?" She asked. Newport briefly blinked at that before smiling at that, interlocking her fingers as her eyes found Anya.

"Okay, so Baltimore and Portland are together, have been for a long, long time." Newport told her. "But, Secnav bless them, they couldn't dominate their way out of an open door. So Salem..." She trailed, expecting that Anya would see it.

"Salem's their acting source of dominance."  She said. "Like a Dom for hire I suppose." She reasoned, more to herself than anything. Newsie smiled at that, more than satisfied that the Admiral had landed on the conclusion she'd wanted her to come to.

"Yes, exactly." She offered. "Salem offers the two a sense of dominance they want so dearly, but are unable to do so themselves." She said. Anya sighed at that.

"Tell me right now, nothing held back, are the two of you the weird ones, or should I have Des Moines on my radar as well?" She said. Newsie smirked in a devilish way at the question as she sipped at her drink.

"Tell me Admiral, where do you think my love for carriers comes from?" She asked with an amused chuckle as she watched the woman's face sink a little bit.

"Should've seen that one coming to be honest." She offered in reply. Newsie smiled at that, a thought popping into her head a moment. Pausing, her smile grew deep and devious while she watched Anya peer into her drink. After all, What Salem didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"Admiral, I do have to ask. Should you ever find yourself bored or feeling out of it." Newsie began, prompting Anya to glance up at her. "Feel free to let me know, I know-" She went to say, but paused as she registered something.

Standing just out of Anya's line of sight, just barely behind her, was Newsie's older sister. Salem only offered Newsie a sickly sweet grin through the glass, her eyes seeming to glow among the darkness of the space. Newsie's gaze met hers in a somewhat surprised, and damming way. She'd been caught in the act red handed.

"Newsie?" Anya questioned a moment, arching a brow as she held her cup to her lips.

"It's... it's nothing." Newsie said. "Just a thought that I didn't know where it was going." The heavy cruiser quickly added. Her eyes darted to Salem, the crimson eyed cruiser only titling her head somewhat, her body giving off the telltale signs of a giggle.

Before the lightning flashed, and she was gone.

"Oooooookay?" Anya trailed into her cup before sipping at it, downing the last of it's contents. Newsie wearily gazed out the window a moment as the rain fell against the window before shaking her head somewhat, a brief smile pulling at her lips.

"So tell me Admiral." Newsie began. "I hear your sister has a reputation for trouble."

Anya only smiled.

—/—\—/—\—

She let the breeze whisp through her hair as she stood there, over looking the peace of Tokyo Bay. The base was hectic, this new life even more so, but it all had a kind of serenity totally foreign to her. It was a feeling all but unknown to the battleship, and it was something she cared for greatly. This life was a gift she'd not foreseen coming, but it had quickly become something she'd never trade away. Something which that she would never grow tired of even if she wished it.

But she never would.

Her Majesty's Ship, Dreadnought was already all too fond of this new existence she found herself in the middle of. Too fond of new things, new sights, new people. All of it was far too charming for the battleship's sake, and she knew it. But even that would not stop her from enjoying it as she sat on the bench overlooking the bay.

Sure, she wasn't a frontline unit by her own choice, but she was still supporting the fleet in her own way. But that being said, her own fleet didn't have that many members yet, so it wasn't the easiest thing in the world. She knew Constitution already had her hands full with those of the Americans, and she'd slowly been pushing into those of the Japanese as well, if reports of Constitution trying to get Shimakaze to wear something actually resembling clothes were actually true.

And Argus was already cozied up amongst the bases's carriers, all too comfortable to let them do as they please under her watchful gaze. Dreadnought knew both Langley and Houshou were appreciative of the woman, as it meant they could more evenly split their time between the carrier range and the Cafe.

But Dreadnought knew she herself didn't have it quiet so simple. Sure, she herself had redefined battleship design from the moment she'd been put down on paper. But those they followed in her legacy, such as Arizona or Pennsylvania, were hardly the most approachable of the bunch. She may have been young in the new life she'd been granted, but she knew when people were guarded, when people refused to let someone in.

Maryland had apparently been brought down from that state, and Dreadnought knew that Haruna had worked Arizona down somewhat from that place after a while, but even then, Arizona was still guarded in places and ways.

And that said nothing for the Dreadnought's older sister or the Nevada class.

Nevada and Oklahoma.

Two of the oldest American ships on base, the two of them were more guarded than anyone else. And they usually opened up to each other or other members of the former Battleship row. Dreadnought knew and supposed that it wasn't and was never going to be a simple matter to get the two to open up, to get them to be honest about how they felt, what they felt. But Dreadnought knew she also couldn't push it. They'd watched their world burn down around them, and when it'd been put out, they lost oh so many more friends in the  years of World War II.

She knew they had their reasons, and that she had their ways, but that hardly meant that the battleship didn't want to try and help. To try and get them to open up just a little bit if not more than that.

But Dreadnought was brought out from her thoughts as she heard someone stumble behind her, the battleship glancing back as the presumable mystery visitor went down.

"Ow." Armando Diaz put up as she settled into her new spot on the ground a moment, apparently the cruiser not having seen the spot on the ground that tripped her up. She went about slowly getting up, all too aware that the battleship's gaze.

Dreadnought however was racking her brain for the cruiser's name. She'd quickly learned the Japanese and American names given they were the most numerous on base. And then those of the Germans and French had followed. And of course she knew her own country's cruisers. But if she was being honest, she'd never managed to pay much attention to those of the Italians, something she silently scolded herself for as she watched the cruiser slowly stand.

"Are you alright, Eugenio?" Dreadnought asked. The cruiser in the midst of getting up paused somewhat, a hand on her knee, before she looked at Dreadnought like she'd grown another head.

"Eugenio?" Armando questioned. "Non ci somigliamo nemmeno, mostro ossessionato dal tè." She huffed. "My name is Armando. Obviously, Eugenio is my sister." She told her.

Dreadnought winced internally, but she offered only an outward nod. "My mistake." The battleship offered hastily, her tone even. "I will admit, I've not spent much time with those of the Italians, whether that be talking or something similar of the like. The other fleets have been far more pressing in concern." She told her.

"Are you trying to tell me that my own country's fleet is not worth your time?" Armando asked, almost demanded as her voice turned icy. Dreadnought quickly went to correct herself at the risk of further upsetting the cruiser before Armando blew air from her nose. "One can hardly blame you." She said with an air of annoyance and a hint of disappointment. Dreadnought arched her brow at the sudden addition before gesturing to the bench seat next to her. Armando paused at the offer before shrugging her shoulders, making her way around the bench before she eased herself into the seat, keeping her skirt straight as she did so.

"That's hardly a comment that evokes confidence." Dreadnought offered in return as Armando fully settled. The Italian cruiser huffed in response.

"It's hardly a comment that speaks lies." She said in response. Dreadnought's other brow arched now, watching the cruiser with her undivided attention. Armando seemed to pick up on this and offered the battleship only another sigh in response.

"Armando?" Dreadnought questioned. The cruiser shook her head.

"Do you know what it's like to have pride in your country?" The cruiser questioned. "Know what it's like to see your homeland as the greatest there ever was?" She asked. When Dreadnought began to nod, Armando spoke again. "Do you know what it's like for someone to take that pride and throw it in the garbage?"

Dreadnought momentarily paused at that little declaration, glancing to the woman. "Armando?" She asked. "Are you alright?"

"I don't really know." Armando said as she stood, looking over the water. "I finally was able to make my own way onto the Internet, onto it's mystery and majesty." She said. "And the first thing I did was search up The Second World War's Naval history, expecting at least a little something pertaining to my own Navy, but no. If it wasn't British, German, Japanese, or American, apparently I just doesn't exist. The first post I found regarding anything of my own Navy was made by some absolute idiot who can spell neither Stoic or Shinano." She said. "And all he had to ask was why did Italy even bother building a Navy? And considering all of what we did in World War 2?" She asked, her voice going quiet. "He has a point. My Navy is so overshadowed, so long forgotten to the likes of the Americans, or your homeland, that it's infuriating. And yet, I stand here saying that, and yet the most famous thing about me is that I'm sister to a Cruiser who is named after the same prince as Prinz Eugen."

Dreadnought merely nodded, allowing the girl to vent somewhat.

"And there's members of the fleet like you." Armando said as she turned to look at the battleship. "Not only do you have the ultimate fortune to be built under Britain's flag, but then you yourself defined Battleship construction from the second you touched paper." She said, almost seethed. Dreadnought watched the cruiser a moment before placing her hands in her lap as she crossed one leg over the other.

"I take it then that you do not like being overshadowed." She said. "You or your country's Navy."

"No." Armando answered her quietly.

"You know that's simply apart of this whole thing right? Our past services serve as both a collection and a list of mistakes we made. It's who we are. Some are overshadowed no matter how hard they may try." She told her.

"It's one thing when a ship overshadows another ship, that's understandable. But all you need to overshadow my entire Navy is Bismarck and Hood." She said. "And then there's others on top of that, throughly ensuring the Italian Navy rests in the joke status that we've apparently earned." She told her, shaking her head. Dreadnought watched the cruiser a moment, her hands still in her lap, before she tilted her head somewhat.

"Tell me, Armando Diaz, are you not proud to be Italian? Are you not proud to call Italy your homeland?" She questioned. Armando offered pause at that before her brow furrowed at the question, turning on the battleship.

"W-what? Of course I am! But I-"

"Tell me then, do you know what the Olympic Games are?" She questioned openly.

"Of course I do!" Armando told her, a hand on her hip. Dreadnought smiled.

"Tell me. Do the Olympic Athletes go there for their own personal glory? For they themselves and themselves alone?" She questioned.

"Yes?" Armando answered, unsure of what the battleship was getting at here.

"And they do so amongst what? The entire time they are there, whether they be bringing home golds, silver, or bronze? What are they doing?" She questioned. Armando froze a moment as she thought about it, the idea pulling at her mind before the woman sighed, shaking her head.

"I know what you're getting after here." She said. "And it's different." She told her. Dreadnought thought about it for a moment before shaking her head.

"It's truly not when put into perspective." She told her. "They represent their counties much like we ourselves do. You say that you are worried, that you are concerned about being overshadowed by another. But we are one fleet, with one goal ahead of us. Tell me how is that such a problem?" She asked. "In my opinion, you're viewing this in the wrong way. Yes, your Navy may have been overshadowed in the past compared to others, but that's exactly what it was, the past. Today, in this day and age? You've been given a new lease on life, the ability to show them what you yourself are made of. Your country has been granted a second chance to show the fight you yourself seem to be so sure is present. You realize this yes?" Dreadnought questioned.

The battleship only laughed as the cruiser's shoulders slumped somewhat at the realization, her agitation fleeting with the next winter's breeze.

—/—/—/—(—)—\—\—\—

"Hoel, your ass is dust if you even think about throwing that at me." Jersey offered in response to the sight of the Fletcher before her, the girl armed with what looked to be a paint filled water balloon.

Hoel's eyes shone in a kind of amusement that would make even the hardened of Sailors worry for their well being.

"Deeeeeeeeeew it." Taylor sneered from the side, her hands rubbing over one another in a insidious fashion. "Dew it." She barked again. Jersey scowled, the Iowa briefly fixing her gaze on the destroyer to the side before her eyes snapped back to the heavily armed destroyer, the girl tossing two balloons with one hand. Normally, Jersey would say that'd be impossible for one person to do. But the Fletcher class operated on a level of bullshittery that made her head spin.

"Aggravestus." Hoel offered in reply.

"The fuck does that even mean, you fuck." Jersey snapped in response. Hoel's grin widened by fractions as she-

Jersey blinked.

The destroyer now had three balloons, all being tossed and caught by one hand. Jersey, she herself was watching the motion, the steps involved. Her brain, her mind, everything she knew told her in a determined voice that it shouldn't have been possible, but the destroyer was laughing in a foreign law as she stood before the Iowa class.

Currently, the lot of them were milling about within the Courtyard of the American dorms, that being Jersey, Hoel, Taylor, Jenkins, O'Bannon, and John Finn. Jenkins and John Finn looked up from the game they were playing nearby, the two trading s careful glance a moment before turning their attention back to their original place.

"Hoel, you throw that and we all lose a sister." 'Bannon said from the side next to Taylor, the latter mentioned destroyer only laughing at the implication.

"Doesn't mean it won't be twelve kinds of hilarious." Taylor replied as she nudged 'Bannon in the side. O'Bannon grinned at that in agreement, the destroyers turning their gaze to Hoel. "Do it." O'Bannon pushed. "Do it for the vine!" She cheered. Hoel cackled in response at that as her eyes darted to Jersey, who offered only a lone finger.

"I swear to Secnav Hoel, there will be no walking away from this should you continue." She threatened. But Hoel's grin kept her safe, kept her grounded as the destroyer took an exploratory step towards the Fast Battleship. Jersey's eyes watched the girl like a hawk, she herself unwilling to give even the slightest edge in ground. The two were in a standoff, one the Black Dragon, and the other, a destroyer who had refused to relent at the sight of Yamato. "Where did you even get that much paint?" The battleship demanded.

"Training munitions." Hoel told her In confidence as the Fletcher took another exploratory step towards the Iowa. Jersey frowned at that somewhat as she refused to budge, her mind racking itself for an answer to that. She knew where the training munitions were kept of course, the large warehouse connected to Yuubari's workshop. But the cruiser herself was the only one with a key to it that she knew-

"Which one gave you the key?" Jersey demanded.

"Dunno what you're talking about." Hoel returned, her lips tugging into a smirk as she caught two of the balloons, but snatched the third out of midair as she prepared to chuck it at the battleship. Jersey's eyes narrowing at the motion, her body bristling at the sight.

"Dear god, this standoff is taking longer than a dragon ball Z arc. Please, Hoel, stop wasting our time and face your death with honor." Taylor bemoaned. Hoel scowled as she went to snap at her sister, just as Jersey made her move. Just as the Fletcher's line of sight moved itself from the battleship, Jersey surged forwards, her eyes all but glued to the destroyer's hand.

Just as Hoel smirked. "Aggravestus." Her lips moved, but her voice did not speak it.

Behind the closest hedge of the courtyard, Fletcher, Nicholas, and Heerman emerged, the three of them armed with their own balloons, though the three of them far more heavily equipped than Hoel, given the slingshots the three of the wielded with glee. Jersey's eyes widened at the sight, the battleship shifting to the left, throwing herself over the hedge as the paint balloons flew, directly over where Jersey had landed.  She could hear where the balloons popped on the concrete behind her, covering the walkway in red. Jersey risked a glance back in that direction before turning her gaze back to the forefront, where the six Fletchers could now be heard cackling.

"I didn't do anything, J!" Jenkins called from her spot next to John, who giggled in turn at the declaration. "What!? It's true!" She insisted. Jersey shook her head a moment, laying half on the walkway, half on the grass as she waited a moment longer. Carefully and slowly, Jersey began to poke her head, her vision now being able to make out the other side of the hedge.

Just as Heerman fired another balloon at the woman, Jersey ducking under it's arc just barely as it soared over her head. The battleship rolled her eyes hard at the sounds the Fletcher class laughing and laughing. She knew where she currently was, laying on the ground like she was, she was at a disadvantage against the destroyers before her. She paused, considering her options before realizing she needed to get out of her current position. Deciding on her plan of action, she slowly began to back up, crawling backwards along the ground, making sure that she could still hear the Fletchers laughing in front of her and keeping track of that.

Slowly backing up, she came across the entrance to the European dorms to her left. Taking a glance, she eventually found it clear and readied her chance, slowly getting up.

And then she made a dash for it.

And make it she did, clearing the corner of the European dorm building in record time, the sound of the Fletcher's continual laughter still filtering through the air. Jersey sighed at that, putting her hands on her hips as she slowed back to a walk, her gaze meeting the ground as she did so. She had to figure out a way to get the weapons away from the destroyers that didn't end with her tracking paint back into the dorms. But as she was walking along, she nearly bumped straight into someone she hadn't noticed. Stopping just before she crashed into them as she took note of the pair of legs standing before, Jersey paused before letting her eyes travel north.

By the time she got to the skirt and metal belt, she had a pretty good idea of just who was standing before her.

"Mutsu." Jersey greeted as she fully looked up to the battleship. Or at least, to her face, given that the battleship was a few inches shorter than the Iowa. Mutsu, however, only pouted at that as she looked up to the battleship.

"How'd you know it was me?" She asked. Jersey shrugged as she put her hands on her hips, glancing to the woman as her eyes darted down her form a moment.

"You've got bigger thighs than Nagato." She told her in reply. Mutsu however, having expected a number of replies, had not been anticipating that one. Her facial expression froze as her face began to redden before Jersey chuckled. "Na, I'm kidding. You usually spread your feet wider than Nagato when she stands." She told her, scratching the back of her head. Mutsu paused at that a moment before allowing herself to relax somewhat, nodding her head in understanding.

"That's... an interesting thing to notice, J." Mutsu told her. The battleship shrugged at the statement in return.

"It's not like I chose to specifically look for that. It's just what I happened to take note of." She said told her. "So you tell me, what're you doing so close to the American dorms? Didn't think they were such a hot place for visitors." She told her. Mutsu only smiled in response at the question, nodding her head in turn.

"And you may have a point." She confirmed. "If we were talking about my fellow Japanese ship girls. I do not err on the side of caution as the members of my fleet do, as I don't see those of your navy as a looming monster ready to pounce." She told her. Jersey paused at the statement before looking to the woman.

"Not that I don't appreciate it, but why?" She questioned. Mutsu shrugged her shoulders at that.

"Unlike the others of my fleet, I've never been one to view the US as the so called 'Demon' they'd been so sure of. A large part of it plays in how I went down though for sure." She told her as she stood before the battleship. Jersey's mind flashed blank a moment at the information before she suddenly had her answer.

"The turret explosion." Jersey recalled from her readings. "Third? 43' right?" She questioned as she looked to the battleship. Mutsu nodded at that.

"And that reason is why I don't see the Americans in nearly the same light as the rest of my fellow Kanmusu do." She offered. "Even my sister and I are not the same in our views." She told her. Jersey blinked at that somewhat, as if unsure if she'd heard her wrong.

"Nagato doesn't trust us?" The Iowa asked.

"No, that's not it." Mutsu told her, folding one arm under the other. "Nagato trusts the American fleet completely, her American version included. But when dealing with them, she errs on the side of caution more than anything else." She told her. Jersey snorted at that, nodding in understanding.

"Well, with a class like the Fletchers or the Gatos around, that makes sense." She told her, the Fletcher's laughter echoing on the other side of the building.

"Especially when you recall the three of them snatched her skirt in their first training battle against her." Mutsu informed her. Jersey went a little wide in the eyes at that piece of information before laughing somewhat at that.

"A shame I missed it." Jersey told her. Mutsu nodded with a smile at that as she did cross her arms in that moment.

"Perhaps the real question however is how the mighty New Jersey is doing today." Mutsu questioned as she looked at the battleship. "You don't seem too bothered today, not like you were the other day." She reasoned. Jersey shrugged at that somewhat as she scratched the back of her head.

"That's largely just because I try to keep it together for Johnny." She told her. "Kitty told me and Admiral Johnson that she just got to a point where she was getting to sleep on her own, even if it is a little restless." She explained. "I don't want to be the reason that falls apart, especially not because of my own reasonings." She confided. Mutsu nodded at that somewhat as she looked to the battleship.

"Well, Johnny isn't within earshot right now, so out with it." Mutsu told her. "Or at least as much as you want to tell." The battleship reasoned. "I would assume I'm safe in guessing the nightmares are still around." She told her, her arms dropping to her side. Jersey hesitated a moment before nodding at the inquiry.

"They are." She confirmed. "A majority of them are just masses of sights, sounds that I can't make heads or tails of. But every so often, I get a picture of Captain Young laying on the ground, or laying against the wall, fires swallowing the room. Everytime, it looks like he's saying something, or at least trying to. But I can never figure out what it is or was before something changes or I wake up." She explained, a sigh undermining her tone. Mutsu nodded in response to that.

"And Captain Young, he was related to Johnny's Captain?" She questioned.

"My Captain was twin brother to Johnny's Captain." She said. "He didn't make it." She told her, Mutsu nodding in turn. "And as far as I know, she's in critical condition in Italy after she was pulled from the water. One of only seven people from both ships." She said, her tone growing quiet as her memory began to recall more and more details to the forefront.

Mutsu, the older of the two, only watched as the battleship grew quieter and quieter until eventually her voice dropped off completely, the only sign that the battleship had been talking was the slight part in the Iowa's lips. Mutsu watched her a moment longer before crossing her arms. "Jersey?" She finally spoke after a moment or two. She watched as the crimson gaze found it's way back to her person, Mutsu's eyes meeting J's. "You're not talking to anyone about this, are you?" She questioned.

It took a moment, a few even for the question to process with the American battleship. But after it had done so, Jersey slowly shook her head. Mutsu rolled her eyes at that somewhat.

"Americans." She muttered. "One of these days, we're gonna get it through your thick skulls that talking to people about your problems isn't the enemy. Arizona, Kentucky, and now you." She huffed. "Have you talked with anyone about it? Your Admiral? Your sisters?" She questioned. Jersey paused before shaking her head.

"Don't want to worry Mo, like you said Kentucky's got her own stuff on her plate, and Illy's too happy to try and bother her with all of this." She said. Mutsu nodded slowly at what she was hearing.

"And your Admiral?" Mutsu questioned. "Because, Battleship New Jersey, if you try to stand before me and tell me that she has other concerns, you've met the wrong woman. I know for a fact that she will toss everything on her desk to the side if it means you're allowed a restful sleep, if even for a sole night." She told her. "So tell me? Why haven't you told anyone?" She questioned with an arched brow. The silence that had settled between the two of them a moment gave Mutsu a bad feeling before the Iowa sighed.

"Because I don't want to bother anyone else, I don't want to be something they have to worry about. I'm a battleship. They shouldn't have to have their eyes on my like I'm a lost puppy." She told her. Mutsu sighed.

"It is that thinking right there that is the reasoning as to why Admiral Johnson watches the battleships the closest these days. She didn't mind Kentucky, they came to blows. She asked Maryland to play nice, Maryland's rage came to a boil against a new summon, admittedly for a good reason. New Jersey, If you do not want to be a bother to your Admiral, then the best way is one you would not expect. And that is to talk." She told her, her tone going stern as she crossed her arms before Jersey. The American battleship watched Mutsu a moment before sighing.

"Do you care because it's your own personal choice? Or because you're a secretary ship?" She questioned as she looked Mutsu in the eyes. The shorter of the two of them only smiled as she leaned into Jersey, a small, playful little smile on her lips.

"That's for me to know." Mutsu told her. "And for you to accept." She said before pulling back to her own personal space. "As both your better, older, and longer serving member of the fleet, here's what's gonna happen. Once a week, or however much we need, you and I are going to talk. We're going to sit down whenever we find the time, and you're going to open up to someone." She told her. Jersey offered pause.

"And if I don't agree?" She questioned, narrowing her eyes somewhat.

"Both Missouri and your Admiral are within walking distance." Mutsu offered coyly. "And it doesn't even have to be me, you know. I would just prefer that it be someone above destroyer tonnage." She told her.

Jersey resisted the urge to flinch.

Mutsu's smile widened ever so slightly.

"Then we...?"

"Monday." Mutsu offered in reply. "We'll start Monday. You don't even have to put it out on all the table if you don't want. But you're going to put something." She told her. Jersey, somewhat at a loss for words, could only nod somewhat as Mutsu took a few steps back. "And, by the way, The fletcher class are endurance hunters." She told her with a smile. Jersey frowned somewhat at that, not understanding what she was trying to say, all before she snapped around her eyes shooting wide.

There she found Fletcher and Hoel armed with the slingshots, each with a balloon already loaded. Jersey only had the briefest of moments to take in her situation before the two of them fired, letting the balloons fly as Mutsu watched in mirth. She watched as the balloons, fired perfectly, made their way for Jersey faster than the battleship could've expected. They collided with her body, splashing in her blue paint, all to the amusement of Mutsu.

She covered her mouth with a hand in mock surprise, her eyes darting to Jersey who only stood stunned. Before the battleship watched Jersey's body bristle, the muscles in her arms and back tensing a moment. And then Hoel and Fletcher screamed, breaking out into laughter as the Iowa rushed them, the lot of them vanishing around the corner in no time at all.

Mutsu only watched them go a moment before smiling, her hands resting behind her back as she made her way back towards the Japanese portion of Yokosuka.

—/—\—/—\—

She groaned, she wasn't sure how this was going to go, that was for sure. If she'd been more confident, more assured in the way she was going about this, maybe it would be easier on her nerves. But at the moment, they were frayed and she'd was left to deal with the possible implications on her own.

She didn't want to ruin anything.

But the thoughts in her head had been pushing her to action for a while now, only now were her nerves ready to face that head on, pushing her to no longer sitting around and simply wondering. The woman sighed somewhat as she rubbed her face, the thoughts of what she was about to do standing before her in a daunting manner.

German Battleship Scharnhorst had never faced a foe like this before in her life.

"I think you're overthinking this." Köln said from next to the battleship, crossing her arms as she glanced up at the woman.

"I mean, is it really that hard to walk up to someone, tell them you're absolutely infatuated with them, and hopefully get a kiss out of the deal?" Königsberg offered in addition to the cruiser's statement. Köln nodded in understanding at that as Scharnhorst sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"Neither of you are being any sort of helpful, you know this right?"

"We're not here to be helpful, we're here for moral support." Köln told her, glancing up at Scharnhorst in response, Königsberg doing the same.

"And we never said that Moral support and help are the same thing. If we were here for our kind of moral support, we would laugh at you." Königsberg informed her, a hand on her hip. "But because we need to be good peoples, we won't laugh. Just light giggling."

Köln giggled, both to prove their point and to lighten the mood. Königsberg grinned at Scharnhorst a moment later, stepping just barely in front of her, garnering the woman's full attention on her.

"Scharnhorst, you're worrying far too much about this." She said. "You're running your mind through countless scenarios when there's only gonna be two outcomes. One, she's gonna offer your a smile and think you're just the cutest thing in the world at that very moment. Or, she's gonna let you down gently." She explained.

"Or crush your dreams and smash them underfoot." Köln offered from her other side, shooting the battleship next to them a cheeky grin.

"Or that. That works too." Königsberg told her, pointing to her sister as she admitted she had a point. Köln offered the battleship a bold grin, an expression the woman in question only rolled her eyes at, her shoulders slumping somewhat.

"There's no confidence in anything you're giving me." Scharnhorst told the two of them. The light cruisers only offered shrugs in return at that.

"Confidence is overrated." Köln reasoned.

"Now go." Königsberg said as she shoved the battleship forwards. "Daylight's wasting and we're not gonna wait around here all day for you to get your ass moving." The light cruiser said as she pushed her. Scharnhorst seemed unsure at that but eventually relented, soon walking forwards on her own power as she approached the Cafe, where her target could clearly be seen seated with others. She willed her fear not to beat her to retreat, not to will her nerves to overpower her.

She approached slowly, but with purpose, as she approached the five women laughing and talking amongst one another. A club that Scharnhorst would never know, a membership she could never gain.

Slowly, carefully, and methodically, Battleship Scharnhorst approached the five present members of Battleship Row.

The five Dreadnoughts were seated around a single table outside the cafe, sharing laughter, smiling at one another. Scharnhorst couldn't claim to be the longest serving on base by any means, because she wasn't. But she had been around enough to know each of them and what they were like on their own.

There was the the Nevada class.

The nameship of the two was always stern, always stone faced. Whether it be out on the water or within the mess hall, being witnessed by the dozens of other girls apart of the fleet. She spoke softly, but each word was laced with a promise of fire and retribution. Pearl Harbor sat heavy on her heart, and drove her mind to follow it's course.

The younger of the two of them, Battleship Oklahoma, was more outspoken then her sister, more opinionated. Scharnhorst hadn't been here, nor anywhere close when the battleship had come through. But she knew enough that after Saratoga, Oklahoma had been less than enthused about their current situation.

After they came the Pennsylvania's, better known than the Nevada's and for good reason.

There was the elder herself, Pennsylvania. A woman, that in the time Scharnhorst had known her, had not once stopped radiating hatred and distrust. Her body bristled with it, every action or choice she made driven by regrets of the past. The woman had a naturally worn scowl that was almost as well known on base as she herself was.

And then came her younger, Arizona, the Martyr. She had been Japan's folly, Scharnhorst knew, amongst the bombing of Pearl Harbor. Her sailor's deaths had provided a hymn every red blooded American knew by heart, and it drove their war machines to the heart of Japan and Germany alike.

And then, after her, after the four of them came the youngest of the five.

Battleship Maryland.

Not the name ship of her class no, she was the oldest of her class that had been present. By far the most approachable, the most smiley of the five, Maryland had an air about her that the other four severely lacked. An air of friendliness, an air of companionship.

It was an air that would burn you if provided with either the reason or need to do so.

When Hipper and Tirpitz had first informed Scharnhorst of just what had happened that night, she'd been unwilling to believe that someone like Maryland could turn to violence on a whim. But Tirpitz had watched it go down, and Hipper had been her unwilling victim, her punishment marking the crime. It had briefly made Scharnhorst cautious of the American battleship, she unknowingly or unrecognizing that she'd been walking on glass, watching for any sign of the anger that boiled under the surface. The way Hipper has described it, it made Scharnhorst acutely aware of the fact that the woman's nickname was in fact 'Fighting Mary'.

The five of them represented a sisterhood that Scharnhorst had never known nor she doubted would she ever. Even incomplete, the members of Battleship Row presented themselves with a daunting nature to approach. But she watched them, watched as they conversed with one another. Their smiles spoke of a time that Scharnhorst had never witnessed, and their laughter sang of a time they would never forget.

Scharnhorst was unsure if her approaching them would interrupt them entirely, but the German battleship knew she already had three things going for her.

She wasn't Admiral Hipper.

She wasn't Japanese.

She wasn't a carrier.

She hoped that would provide enough.

She approached slowly but with purpose, drawing closer by the second. From wheee they were sitting, the two that could actively see her approaching were Pennsylvania and Oklahoma, with Nevada being able to notice her if she turned her head. But Arizona and Maryland's backs were almost entirely to her, making this all just a bit easier on Scharn's nerves. It was as she approached though, the last twenty feet or so, when one of them finally took note of her. Nevada offered an inquisitive gaze pointed at the woman a moment, her eyes not quite narrowing, but enough to the point that Scharnhorst knew she wasn't entirely welcome.

At least by Nevada's standards.

Luckily for her however, both Oklahoma and Pennsylvania took note of the fact that Nevada seemed suddenly and otherwise distracted and chocked it up to Scharn's approach. Oklahoma arched a brow as Pennsylvania offered a nod that didn't seem quite so cautious.

"Scharnhorst." Pennsylvania greeted cordially, leaning back somewhat as she picked up her cup, sipping at it. But the greeting brought the final two into it, Arizona and Maryland, as they fully turned in their seats to acknowledge the approaching battleship.

"Hey." Arizona greeted.

"Hey Scharn, what's up?" Mary asked as she shoveled a spoonful of the parfait she was partaking in into her mouth, sucking on the utensil a moment as her gaze focused on the German battleship. Scharnhorst did her best not to flinch under the gazes of the five, notably only Nevada's seeming to take on one of possible aggression. Her gaze darted to Pennsylvania, who she noted looked more curious then upset, before looking back to Maryland.

"Can... I talk to you?" She questioned slowly. Maryland blinked in surprise a moment before shrugging.

"Sure. What do you-"

"In private?" Scharn pushed. Maryland paused at that, the rest of the sentence she'd been planning to go with left hanging on her lips. But, after only a moment, Maryland nodded in response to the request, pushing her parfait close to Nevada.

"Protect it with your life. Ari's been a glutton today." She said, her tone dripping with seriousness. Nevada snorted at the request as Arizona offered a noise of indignation, much to the amusement of Pennsylvania and Oklahoma. Maryland only offered a grin as she turned to Scharnhorst, the German battleship now wondering if she should mention the fact that Nevada was now digging into the treat she'd been given to protect. "Come on." Mary told her. Scharn snuck another glance at Nevada before following after Maryland towards the water's edge, a fair distance away from the Cafe. When Mary stopped at it's edge, Scharn did shortly as well, the battleship glancing back at the two German cruisers still watching before she looked back to the Colorado Class. "So? What's up?" She asked.

As Far as all of Scharn's planning had done for her, she'd never gotten past approaching the battleship. Maryland watched the woman with an curious gaze as she waited for the German woman to voice what she needed, and for a moment, Scharnhorst wasn't sure how to voice it herself. Her brain racked itself for answers, and as it did so, she tried to begin. "I...." She tried.

Maryland only watched the battleship with rapt attention, genuinely curious of what she wanted or need from her. But as she stood there, as she watched the woman struggle to find the words, Anya's words creeped into her mind.

First Impressions are a hell of a drug.

Mary bit the inside of her cheek as realization creeped over her, as what exactly Scharnhorst wanted to talk to her about began to drizzle over her.

The battleship was confessing. Or, at least she was trying her damndest based on the way the woman looked more than a little tongue tied and a whole lot of confusion. She sighed inwardly, wondering to herself how long she should let this go on. But as she glanced at the battleship again, the woman still no doubt unsure of how she should and would proceed, she scrapped that idea. She wouldn't make her suffer.

"Scharnhorst." Maryland spoke.

The German battleship's thoughts scrambled at the sound of the Battleship's voice resonated through her mind, the woman finding Maryland's gaze focused solely and ultimately on her.

"Y-yes Maryland?" She questioned, her attention raptly upon target. Maryland hesitated a moment, her gaze studying the woman's face a moment before she huffed.

"You like me." Maryland put forth.

All at once, as if those three words were a foreign language she'd never heard, Scharn's head short circuited a brief moment before coming back to reality, glancing back to the woman. After a moment, all she put forth was a brief nod. It was all she could do after all, her words would fail her she knew. But at the confirming nod, as if the motion itself was a damming motion, Maryland nodded in turn, her gaze turning to the horizon for a few, quiet seconds.

In that moment, Scharnhorst's mind became an unorderly place of chaos all at once, fears creeping up, they clashing with questions of what if. Her nerves clawed at the walls of her mind, destined to never let her settle only for all motion to come to a screeching halt as Maryland looked back to her.

"I can imagine there's a lot of ways you're expecting this to go." She reasoned. "And there's only one you're hoping this to go." She explained further.

When Scharnhorst nodded in response, Maryland simply nodded in return.

"I won't let you stir in your own thoughts then." Maryland said. "It's going to be a no." She told her, crossing her arms.

Scharn's hope dashed from her features, her heart sinking faster than she knew possible. "I see..." She said. Maryland paused a moment before sighing.

"It's not because of you though." Maryland offered in support. "Anyone would be lucky to call you their own." She told her. "But I've got my own stuff going on." The lie came so easily, but it wasn't exactly that. Scharnhorst nodded somewhat, the glum expression on her face still very much present. "It's just apart of being human now. Rejection, sadness. Yeah, they suck and there's no doubt about that." Maryland told her. "But you haven't been here two months. Maybe wait around a while, see who pops up. You never know what the next day might hold." She said. Scharnhorst slowly nodded.

"But- you and me? We're still-"

"Still Friends, Scharn." She confirmed. "And I intend to keep it that way." Mary told her, flashing the battleship a smile that could warm even Saratoga's cold interior.

Maybe.

"Then, as a continued friend? Can I offer some information?" Scharnhorst pushed. Maryland paused a moment before nodding at the request.

"Shoot."

"Your parfait would've been safer with a destroyer." She told her. Maryland seemed to adjust to that news before scowling, turning immediately to look back at the table where the other four Standards were seated, with Nevada gleefully downing the rest of Maryland's treat without a second thought. For the first time since she'd known her, Scharnhorst watched the battleship's cheeks puff in agitation as she stormed towards the table. Scharnhorst laughed quietly to herself as she followed after her, the sight of Yorktown headed in the direction of the German dorms just barely registering to her vision.

—/—:—\—

Aircraft Carrier Yorktown, eldest of her she and her two sisters, made her way across base with purpose. She scratched her head somewhat as she willed herself to calm, for her racing heart to slow, for her nerves to level. But every step she took, moving her across base just that much more, she wasn't sure of how this was fixing to go.

She had her hopes of course, she had her wants, had her ideals. But those meant little when putting things up to the choices of another person. She resisted the urge to fidget with her fingers, resisted the urge to let her nerves bleed through. She wouldn't show weakness, wouldn't back down now. She couldn't.

She had to know.

The countless questions of what if would no longer allow her to simply sit and wonder. Her crew, her body had moved her to action, but her mind remained firmly locked in fear.

She idly glanced to the side, watching as Maryland seemed to be harassing her fellow standards for reasons she didn't know. But above that, Yorktown didn't stay and wait to find out what was going on. She pushed on with purpose, heading for the German dorm building. As she did so though, as she left the Cafe behind her, she found herself somewhat stopped as two other ship girls came across her.

"Yorktown?" Omaha questioned. Memphis offered a wave to the carrier as the two of them approached her, Yorktown having stopped to greet them in return.

"Hi." Yorktown greeted shortly.

"What are you doing here?" Memphis questioned somewhat. "I thought you just got done with a deployment, figured you'd be heading to the docks to get looked over." She reasoned.

"I'll go there next." She said in turn, glancing to the two of them before gesturing them to follow her as she resumed her path. "There's something I've gotta do first." She told them. The two light cruisers arched brows at that, trading a quiet glance with one another before they fell in behind the Yorktown.

"And something you gotta do first...?" Omaha questioned quietly. "What exactly comes first over getting proper repairs? In my opinion, that should be your first move no matter the issue at hand." She advises her. Yorktown nodded absentmindedly, not putting much stock in the words aside from the usual well mannered response. This didn't fall by Omaha unnoticed, but the cruiser seemed to recognize she wouldn't have been listened to either way.

"She doesn't look hurt at all." Memphis observed, more to Omaha then the carrier they were following. And if Yorktown heard her, she didn't show that she had, didn't seem to mention or let it bother her. She just kept on walking. The two cruisers seemed to pause at that, their attention raptly focused on the fleet carrier before them, readily leading them to places unknown. But as they drew upon the American dorms, it's HQ building standing before it as a shield of sorts, they noted that Yorktown didn't even slow or adjust to break towards one of the Dorm buildings or the HQ itself.

That's when it clicked for Memphis.

And a few seconds later, did it slide into place for Omaha.

The image of the blonde, neck length hair, German battleship creeped into their minds, Sara's mindless teasing echoing along with it.

Had they found Yorktown in the process of making her move? A quiet glance at the side of Yorktown's face, an expression of unwavering concentration making itself a home. Omaha nodded to herself. That's exactly what they'd found. The two of them followed after her in response, watching her quietly. The carrier before them clearly had a mission in mind, a destination set.

"Tirpitz." Memphis tested in a exploratory manner. The way the carrier'a body tensed at the mention, at the sound of the woman's name was far more telling than any manual. The light cruiser glanced at Omaha a moment, her sister picking up what she was saying.

"Yorktown? Are you sure this is a good idea?" Omaha questioned openly, the light cruiser glancing at the fleet carrier. Yorktown's pace stuttered in her footfalls, slowing somewhat before stopping as she halfway turned to the cruiser. Her gaze met that of Omaha's, the two standing in silence before Yorktown shook her head.

"No." She answered in finality. "No, I don't. But I have to know." She told her, the carrier staring the cruiser down. When Omaha didn't offer any response verbally after a moment, Yorktown pressed on, passing by the American HQ building as she began to encroach on the German section of the base. And already, the cruisers spied the carrier's destination as the Battleship, unbeknownst to herself, was standing before the building with Bismarck, Prinz Eugen, Blücher, Bismarck Sea, and Saratoga. The older ships seemed to be talking amongst one another as Bismarck Sea was playing with Saratoga's hair as she was seated on the carrier's shoulders. But at the glance of the approaching fleet carrier, Saratoga paused somewhat before having Bismarck Sea removed from her shoulders.

After she'd done so, she fully turned to address the carrier approaching the group, a motion that did not slip by the other members whatsoever as they too turned to watch Yorktown. At the motion, Saratoga grinned.

"Well hi there Yorkie." Saratoga set in greeting, a hand going to a hip. "What brings you to this side of crazy?" She asked. At that, Blücher glanced at the carrier, brows furrowing in confusion.

"Crazy?" She questioned. Immediately, Sara pressed a finger to her lips as she wheeled on the cruiser.

"Shush, Bubbles. Let us watch." She said in cryptic fashion. Blücher narrowed her eyes at the nickname but she gave no qualm at the request, or order, depending on how she thought about it. She simply nodded her compliance, Saratoga grinning in a well meaning, vicious fashion as her gaze once again found Yorktown.

CV-5 met the older carrier's stare a while before her gaze moved to Tirpitz, she and her sister still having somewhat of a conversation with one another as they kept an eye on the carrier. Eventually though, Tirpitz finally and fully turned her attention to the carrier seemingly staring her down.

"Yes?" Tirpitz questioned. "Is there something you need Yorktown?"

"Can we talk?" Yorktown asked, but voice didn't falter, didn't hesitate. Her tone was commanding and natural, like it always seemed to be aside from a few, explanatory  situations. The battleship in question at that  seemed to arch a brow at the woman, watching her under a gaze that said many things, but told the carrier nothing. After a moment though, Tirpitz nodded at the request.

"Sure? What is it that you want to talk about?" She questioned. At that, Yorktown's gaze wandered slightly to those around them, to the seven other ship girls that had made them their source of entertainment a moment before she looked back to the battleship. And in that moment is when her tone faltered, as if she was suddenly realizing just what she was about to do.

"Can... Can we talk alone?" She pushed. Tirpitz paused at that as she glanced to her sister before Bismarck shrugged her shoulders and leaned down to pick up Bismarck Sea before she motioned that they push on to a different part of the base. Saratoga grumbled to herself as she walked off with Prinz, the two light cruisers following after them as Bismarck Sea turned to watch them from her spot in Bismarck's arms. Watching them go, Tirpitz pointed her gaze back to the American carrier before her.

"So? What is so important that we needed to be alone for you to say to me?" The blonde questioned, resting a hand on her hip as she leaned to one side. Yorktown's mind kicked into overdrive as she tried to figure out how to go about this, her face contorting into an image of hesitation and panic. There was likely a part of the carrier that thought, deep in her mind, when she finally opened her mouth to address the battleship in this regard that it would be well thought out, well put together, and generally coherent.

It couldn't have been any further from the truth.

"IreallylikeyoulikealotandIreallydon'tknowwhattodoaboutlikeallIcanfocusonisyouyouandmoreyouandIreallydon'tknowhowtofeelaboutlikeseriouslyIreallydon'tknowwhattodowhenIthinkaboutitlikeforoneyourthighsareagifttomanongod'sgreenearth." She rambled incoherently. Tirpitz only blinked at the outburst, even as she continued to speak. She'd just barely caught the part about her thighs, taking a glance down at the part of her body in question.

Shaking her head, Tirpitz looked back up to the carrier, who was still rambling, still going on. Mulling her options a moment, she eventually elected for the most direct approach. Taking a step towards the carrier, she clamped her hand over the woman's mouth. Yorktown seemed to recoil in surprise, her voice dying away in only a moment's notice, but she didn't pull away from the battleship's grasp. When Yorktown's voice finally died away completely, leaving the two staring at one another in silence, only then did Tirpitz take her hand away.

"We're- well, you're going to try that again, this time as not just one long endless statement." Tirpitz said. "I think I got the gist of what you were saying, but I'd like it in something resembling English." She told her, a hand on her hip as she watched the carrier. Yorktown nodded at the request, it being after all a reasonable one. Willing herself to be calm in this moment, she tried once again.

"I... I like you." Yorktown said slowly, despite her racing heartbeat. "I don't know much, or what that means exactly, but... I like you. That I know." She said. Tirpitz nodded slowly at that piece of information, as much as she already knew that. Crossing her arms somewhat, she settled in for a discussion that she knew would leave both of them feeling a little awkward.

"Can I ask." Tirpitz began. "Is this a result of the way I caught you Christmas morning, in the mess hall? The morning you were summoned?" She asked. She saw it, the hesitation in the carrier to outwardly answer her question. She eventually however got her answer as Yorktown's head dipped into a nod, albeit slowly, before she fully committed to the motion. "And I assume... your feelings built more and more off of that?" She questioned. "Your feelings for me?" She asked.

Yorktown only nodded in turn, her gaze locked on Tirpitz totally and fully. The German battleship accepted the answer in full as she closed her eyes, sighing somewhat as she stood before her.

"Above all else, I appreciate the gesture. I really do Yorktown." She told her. "Unfortunately, you've chosen to fall for me it would seem. Which, wouldn't be a problem if you weren't a woman." She reasoned, damming Yorktown then and there. "I don't see women as a potential partner."

Yorktown lips pursed at that piece of info, her form going stiff.

Of course, it had to be her.

Of course she was the one who would fall for someone who wouldn't reciprocate her feelings no matter what. Of course she was the one who'd allowed herself to be so blinded by her emotions, she hadn't even bothered to check. Of course.

"I should go." Yorktown said in a hastily fashion before turning and walking away without another word. Tirpitz only watched her go a moment, but spared no words to the carrier.

There wasn't a reason to.

—__—__—__—

"Could be a good idea." She perused.

"A good idea, maybe." Her companion assumed. "It would require work though and you've never been one for the heavy lifting."  Was told in return. The Destroyer Leader sitting across from the cruiser only gave a shrug of the shoulders. "I mean come on, you can't expect them to rely on a sole sustenance of just Vodka. It's not realistic." Molotov told her. Leningrad gave a dismissive wave of the hand in turn.

"Nonsense." She replied.

"It's not nonsense." Molotov told her. "You're looking to make money, which is fine. The thing with that is however is that you're planning on opening this up not to just those of our homeland, but the fleet as a whole. You will be hard pressed to find that every single member of the fleet who is allowed the chance with happily partake in your drink. And while Vodka is a solid choice anywhere you go, there will be those who either will not or can not drink it." She said. "It's nonsensical to think otherwise."

"They will have just have to accept it." Leningrad offered. "Vodka is fine drink." She told her, offering the woman a grin. Molotov pinched the bridge of her nose, a sigh seeping from her lips as she leaned back in her chair.

"Vodka is not the answer to every single issue that you come across." Molotov told her. "You do know this right? Right?" She questioned. Leningrad's shoulders shrugged in response as she crossed her arms, leaning on the table.

"Never caused problem before." She admitted. "Don't see problem now." Said Leningrad. Molotov's forehead met the table the two shared faster than the destroyer knew what to do with, the cruiser's hand being the only thing keeping her drink from tumbling off of it. After a moment of silence, Leningrad's hand returned to the table from when she'd raised it in a concerned manner. Slowly, Molotov brought her head up from where it had abruptly rested against the table between them, Leningrad laughing at the slight red mark on the woman's forehead.

"I swear, you're far more dense than even Admiral Hipper." Molotov groaned. Leningrad arched a brow at that, meeting the cruiser's gaze a moment later.

And then the two cracked up.

"Dare I ask what seems to be so funny?" A familiar face asked as she approached, the like Russian Ship girls looking over as Eugenio approached. The Italian cruiser eased herself into a free seat next to Molotov, looking between the two in a curious way. "Some people do tend to get nervous when the Russians start laughing." She reasoned. "Especially when the Russians are as mischievous as the two of you are."

"Baa!" Leningrad countered, raising a pointed finger. "We are not mischievous. Merely ambitious."

"It would seem then that mischief and ambitious are both suitable at causing headaches. Notably, for two American Commanders. At least you've not managed to get any of the American Ship girls drunk. Or at least as far as I know." She said. "Unless you actually have and have somehow managed to hide it." She rambled on. Molotov snorted in turn as Leningrad simply grinned. "So? What trouble are the two of you possibly discussing?"

"This one." Molotov gestured to Leningrad. "Wants to open a bar."

"I never said bar." Leningrad shot back. Molotov rolled her eyes in turn at the response, shaking her head.

"This one wants to open an establishment that serves alcohol." She corrected. Eugenio nodded at that, her gaze shifting from Molotov to Leningrad.

"So then what's your plan then?" She questioned, resting her chin in her hand.

"Vodka." Leningrad promptly returned. Eugenio's curiosity faltered somewhat, instead making room for concern as the cruiser scratched at her cheek at the idea.

"Vodka?" Eugenio repeated in a way that clearly told the two her confidence simply wasn't there. She looked to Molotov for support, yet found the cruiser simply shrugging her shoulders. Understanding what the problem was now, still somewhat unsure, she looked to Leningrad. "Why just Vodka?"

"Vodka is Vodka." Leningrad told her, looking the Italian cruiser dead in the eyes. Eugenio nodded slowly at the declaration, unsure of how to proceed. It wasn't like she could argue the destroyer's statement after all, given that yes, Vodka was Vodka. But the more she thought about, the less and less that statement really helped anything.

"You know... you can't run an establishment off of just Vodka?" Eugenio pressed, much to Moltov's amusement as the cruiser snorted that much in return.

"And once again, here we are at my original point." She droned, her gaze lazily focused on the two as she swished her drink around in her cup. "Don't even question the Vodka anymore. I'm Russian too, but whatever she has about it far extends that basis." She said. Eugenio accepted that little fact as the cruiser looked back over to Leningrad.

"Vodka aside, why don't you try diversifying?" She questioned. "Or bringing others in on it? I mean, you have Kidd, right? With her endless supply of rum? Or Armando-"

"Armando?" Molotov questioned as Leningrad arched a brow. "Your sister? She has a supply too?" This was news to the Russian cruiser, but Eugenio only nodded at the question, her gaze turning to her fellow cruiser.

"Wine." Eugenio supplied. "But she and I have come across some unsavory rumors involving Pola and alcohol we'd rather not try to recreate, so we've kept it on the down low for the time being." She explained. Molotov snorted at that as Leningrad grinned.

"I now see your point with Vodka not being for everyone. So ecstatic she was for a drink." Leningrad chuckled. Eugenio blinked at that little phrasing before looking between the two.

"I take it the two of you are the reason for the rumors around her then?" She questioned. The two of them shrugged, trading a glance of their own before Molotov looked to her.

"Pola is many things, Eugenio." She said. "But for a supposed heavy cruiser, she's a real light weight. Did we intend for her to go dashing through the snow in her birthday suit? Of course not, we only offered her a small drink. But even that was enough to get her going." She told the cruiser. "This aside however, back to the subject of others." She looked to Leningrad. "Eugenio has a point you know. Sure, you can still have your vodka for example, but adding in Kidd's Rum supply and Armando's apparent wine stash, your services would be far more varied, therefore your appeal far greater. Where one may not take to kindly to Vodka, a glass of wine or a bottle of rum may suit their needs far more often." She told her. "Increasing your total profit since you aren't losing any money on the supply."

"And since apparently it is a thing in the fleet, you do not know who will pop up later down the road with similar abilities." Eugenio added. "You may eventually find someone with the ability for Whiskey or Beer, which that is going to be a big one I would think." She reasoned. Molotov nodded her agreement.

"If it's German." She countered. "If it's the piss water the Americans pass for it, we'll have riots by the first week. Notably from the Germans." She pointed out, which Eugenio nodded in turn.

"Also... wouldn't there need to be some sort of consent from at least one of the Commanders about all of this?" She inquired. Leningrad snorted at that as Molotov shook her head.

"This is one of the few things she and I agree on wholeheartedly." She told her. "There is no place for command overreach here. As long as we don't do anything particularly stupid, like getting the smaller girls drunk, and instead simply offer a place for the Heavier classed girls for them to get away from it all for a little why, I doubt there'll be real issue." She reasoned.

"Then there's still the issue of Leningrad." Eugenio told her, her gaze shifting to the cruiser. "Even If they don't have a problem with the establishment itself, they're going to draw issues with the fact that apparently a destroyer is in charge of the place." She claimed. "My first response would certainly be to question why a destroyer was in charge of so much alcohol and money. And before you say something, it's nothing against you or your potential. It's just looking at the facts."

"She offers a solid point, Leningrad." Molotov told the destroyer.

"Not to mention that if you're talking about making somewhere the Capital ships and heavies can relax, you'll need a wide and mixed staff of the girls so you're not without someone there if a sortie manages to pull all of them, you'll need someone on hand to take care of rowdy guests. You're gonna need a lot to make this work." Eugenio said. "Your main focus at this point in time though needs to be supply procuring."

"Would Armando even be willing?" Leningrad questioned. Eugenio shrugged at that, leaning back in her seat.

"I really don't see why she wouldn't be." Eugenio hummed. "But I can talk with her, see if she would be willing to lend a hand. And perhaps Pola too." She mused.

"Did we not just say Pola was streaking across base in a tear away fashion, much resembling a bat out of hell?" Molotov asked.

"Pola's a lightweight." Eugenio confirmed for her. "That much I will not argue. But she is not an alcoholic like Jun'you or Chitose are sought to be. The Vodka simply proved to be far more than she could handle. I never got the full story from her like was known, but she has sworn off the Vodka, that much I can say for certain." She promised. Molotov chuckled as she sipped at her drink a moment longer before nodding.

"So again, we need variety. You may already have three. But you need far more than that to run any sort of successful establishment." The cruiser told her.

"Why not go ask Kidd? Right now?" Eugenio questioned. "Armando will have to wait, given she's out on the bay, but Kidd should still be on base if I recall correctly. And the three of you do share a dorm building, correct?" She inquired. The two of them nodded at that as Molotov looked to Leningrad, shrugging her response. Leningrad shrugged in reply as stood, apparently showing that they were moving forwards with that goal In mind. Molotov downed the rest of her drink as she and Eugenio stood, making to follow after the destroyer.

As they did so, the two cruisers following after the destroyer, Molotov turned her gaze to Eugenio.

"You're really going to let her rope you into all of this? Something that even I don't see working out, merely entertaining her flights of fancy?" She asked, her curiosity fairly peaked. Eugenio shrugged in return, her hands resting behind her back as she looked back to the cruiser.

"It offers something to do on base when not deployed other than possibly getting involved in hi-jinks and possible trouble." She said. "Plus, this war will not last for ever. Eventually, it will reach it's conclusion." She reasoned. "Having some sort of skill set built up for when that time comes, I don't really see a problem with such."  She told her.

"And If this war ends in a way that sees our end?" Molotov questioned. Eugenio shrugged.

"The memories will serve me well then as everything around me falls apart." She answered honestly. Molotov laughed openly at that, a hand resting on her stomach.

"I never took you for a pessimist, Eugenio." The cruiser claimed. Eugenio shrugged at that.

"I don't believe I ever claimed to be one." She replied. "But I won't just come forwards and say that this war will be won in our favor, because right now, it's not." She said. "Sure, since the opening months of the war, there has been no serious or dramatic losses of life like the ones suffered in the cases of the Coastal raids or Urban bombings by the Abyssals, and that's great. But Naval power has continued to dwindle, a destroyer here, a cruiser there. They haven't taken us by droves, they've been bleeding us dry." Eugenio told her. Molotov nodded somewhat, seeing the logic in it.

"Well that doesn't mean-"

"It doesn't mean anything. Tell me, even with the recent 'Victory' in Boston, how much of a victory is it really if we've done nothing to prevent the same in the future? What did we do there, what did the Americans do there that will prevent the Abyssal's from doing the same thing two, or three, or four months down the road?" She questioned, the idea pointed at Molotov. "We sink them, we sink more, we sink them further, but all we are doing is slogging through a seemingly endless enemy with finite supplies."

"There's the realist." Molotov chuckled. "So then why do you think the Navies of the world sell off the victories as the Abyssal's damming defeats?"

"Morale. Saving face. Dancing around the truth." Eugenio told her. "It could go on and on further if I wanted it to, but the main point of the fact is this. We're not winning this war. We're just surviving. And even that is at the mercy of the Abyssals." She said. "At the moment, whatever resembles an Abyssal doctrine has largely seen their forces keeping us from utilizing the oceans. Sure, we still do in minor parts and negligible attempts, but they've so far curtailed any serious trade like there was before the war. Even our navies are entirely unwelcome." She said.

"Well, we are war." Molotov said. "It is understandable that we would lose some-"

"We haven't just lost some, Molly." Eugenio said, before pausing, her eyes wandering to the cruiser. Clearly, Molotov had been caught off guard by the nickname, but she didn't seem upset. More curious than anything if the look on her face was anything to go by. "Sorry." Eugenio quickly and hastily supplied.

"Molly?" Molotov tested the name on her tongue exploratorily. "Should I question it?" She asked. Eugenio sighed.

"It's what I call you when I talk alone with Armando." Eugenio admitted sheepishly. Molotov paused at that somewhat, pressing a finger to her lips in thought, she every motion she made serving to make Eugenio more and more nervous.

"Molly..." Molotov explored the name again. "Why Molly?" She asked, finally turning her gaze on the cruiser again. Eugenio paused somewhat before shrugging.

"Because it's cute?" She questioned. "And it's also a shortened version of your name. Look, I recognize that Russians do like their explosives and such, I do not see the need to name a ship such as yourself after a bottle of flammable alcohol." She huffed. "Honestly, the nerve-"

"Alcohol?" Molotov questioned, arching a brow.

"A Molotov Cocktail?" Eugenio questioned. "You know, a bottle of alcohol with a towel in the neck, made for lighting on fire and throwing?" She asked further, unsure if the cruiser knew what she was talking about. Molotov shook her head.

"I know what a Molotov Cocktail is, Eugenio." She said. "I'm just amazed that you think that's what my namesake is." She said with a laugh. Eugenio froze.

"It's... not?" She questioned slowly.

"No!" Molotov laughed. "It's a funny thing to think about, mind you, but no. I am not named after the Explosive." She told her. "Is that why you offered the nickname Molly?" She questioned. But her question fell on deaf ears as Eugenio went red in the face, the Italian cruiser eventually offering a nod.

"....yes."

Molotov openly cackled at the idea, Eugenio's shoulders slumping further and further at the realization. She's seriously thought that it was so obvious, that it was clear that she knew what her friend's namesake had been. A defeated and embarrassed sigh slipped from her lips at the mere sound of Molotov's laughter, it growing faster and faster, meaning the cruiser was finding the idea funnier and funnier as time went on. But much to the cruiser's surprise, Molotov's laughter began to die down almost immediately. "Heh." She chuckled.

"It's not funny." Eugenio quickly interjected.

"It's kind of funny." Molotov retorted.

"It's not." Eugenio returned.

"It is." Molotov answered, offering a pointed finger. "And if my sisters were here, they would find just as much as enjoyment in it as I've found." She told her in complete honesty. "My only question is why you have such a problem of the possibility of me having been named after an explosive device." She said.

"Because it's Crude!" Eugenio told her. "The idea of a nation being so strapped for ideas that they resort to naming one of their own Nation's vessels being named after a simple explosive device is awful." She insisted, giving the cruiser a pointed stare. "A ship is so much more deserving of A name rather than some tool made for war."

"I see your point, but I also feel the need to counter it with the fact that we ourselves are weapons of War, Eugenio." She offered in suppliance. The look of combined dismay and annoyance with the fact that called Eugenio's face home made her want to laugh again. But something about it, something about the way the cruiser's eyes searched Molotov's expression for some sign that she'd said it as a joke, Molotov resisted the urge to laugh. "Anyways." Molotov cleared the air with a wave of the hand. "Back to your original idea point before we were sidetracked."

"Uh." Eugenio said, trying to clear the board that was her mind. "Where was I?" She asked.

"Abyssal Doctrines of War." Leningrad informed her from the few feet she was in front of the two. Eugenio nodded at that, allowing her mind just a bit longer to refocus before committing.

"That's right." She said. "Thank you. As I had been saying beforehand, they've curtailed trade, kept us off of the water if any sort of meaningful way. Travel to and from on the water is no longer even thought logical, alone practiced. But for what reason? Why keep us from the water if they plan to make no moves on that advantage? Sure, countries like Britain and Japan suffer with the lack of Ocean access, but a country like the US? Like Russia? The benefits of such is negligible to them." Eugenio offered. "Unless of course, the Abyssals have plan to act on that advantage."

"What? Like pressing their advantage inland? They haven't shown any signs that they can." She said.

"And the US never showed any signs of dropping the Atomic bomb on Japan, but yet that is how they ended World War II." She said. "What your enemies show you and what they intend to yet do are rarely one in the same." She said. "Sure, there's no evidence to show us that that is their plan, no inclination to warrant concern that the Abyssals are about to push an inland offensive, but this is War. War spares no friends, holds no secrets, and tells no lies." She said.

"That statement is filled with inaccuracies." Molotov pointed out. Eugenio pushed a finger to her own lips.

"Shhhhh. Let me have my moment." She said with a chuckle. Molotov only chuckled somewhat as she and the cruiser fell in behind the destroyer before them, the three of them now approaching the Dorm building of the Americans. "I don't think I've ever been in here yet. Is it... clean?" Eugenio asked, in almost a fearful manner.

"Clean... is hardly the thing you need to worry about when discussing the American dorms." Molotov offered cryptically, though the chuckle that sounded from the bottom of Leningrad's throat did not send the Italian light cruiser much hope. But Eugenio nodded in what limited understanding she had for the context and followed them in, allowing the door to close behind her as she watched the two head for the stairs. But the two busted out of the way, Eugenio seemingly freezing at the sudden movement as who she quickly recognized as Illinois cackled, the Iowa jumping down the stairs. She landed with a heavy thud, but immediately ran for the door to the bathhouse at the end of the hall.

"Fuckin Bitch!" Hawaii cursed as she jumped down the stairs after her, the pale cruiser mad dashing for the woman. Eugenio watched the two of them vanish behind the door for a moment in a frazzled way before she turned her gaze to the two Russian ships. Molotov only smirked as Leningrad offered a laugh before turning up the stairs, the two cruisers soon following her up.

Eventually, the two reached the third floor barring any further interruptions. Eugenio took a careful glance around, but Molotov and Leningrad didn't seem to stop, instead electing for the fourth door on the left side of the hallway. Eugenio mindlessly followed, idly glancing into open doors when the opportunity presented itself. If she noted Leningrad all but hammering away on the door that presumably belonged to the Fletcher destroyer they sought, Eugenio didn't show it. Only when she took note of the door opening to greet them did she pay it mind, casting her gaze in with the two as Kidd opened the door.

"Commies, eh?" Kidd accused, narrowing her eyes. "You'll never take m-"

A curt and swift slap to the back of the head, courtesy of Willie D. Silenced the destroyer and any further of her supposed accusations.

"Sorry Willie." Kidd giggled before turning her attention to the three ship girls standing before at their door. "So? What's up?" She asked, questioning the assembled crew.

"Your alcohol. Can we have it?" Leningrad asked shortly, and without delay. Molotov snorted in response at that as Eugenio shook her head, crossing her arms in response.

"What she means to say is would you be willing to lend your supply to a... plan of sorts." Eugenio corrected. Leningrad rolled her eyes at that, crossing her arms with a huff as Kidd stared at them blankly.

"Uhhh... what?" The destroyer questioned.

"Leningrad wants to open an establishment." Molotov explained to her. "Which to do that, she needs a wider variety of drinks than just Vodka. Given you have the same ability as her, instead it being Rum, we figured we would ask if you wanted in."

"Like? As in a partner?" Kidd is questioned. Molotov shrugged.

"You would get a share of the profits given that we are using your supply." She told her. "Like Leningrad and Armando if she agrees to it. That much is guaranteed. And if you were to join, that would bring up our drink supply up to three kinds." She said. Kidd paused at that.

"You ask O'Bannon?" She questioned. "Should ask her too."

"O'Bannon? She's not known to have a stash." Molotov replied shortly. Kidd nodded at that as she stuck her hands in her pockets.

"Noooo, she doesn't." She said. "At least not one like me or Lenny have." She said, eyes wandering to the destroyer, who looked to be caught off guard by the nickname. "But she does make her own. Should Ask her too, get more drinks in on this." She said as she suddenly ran from the room and for the stairway. Leningrad immediately followed after the girl, Molotov and Eugenio simply trading a glance before following after.

—\__/—\—/—\__/—

Battleship Maryland offered only a sigh to herself as she awoke from her nap under one of the trees on base, her current spot being relatively close to the German dorms. Doing nothing to stop the yawn that rugged away from within, she let it run it's course as a calm winter's breeze softly blew by her. She shivered somewhat, stalling the yawn if only slightly before she began to get up. It served to be no issue for the woman as she soon fully stood, stretching her arms a moment as she looked around.

The base was relatively quiet at moment, what with it being earlier in the day. When she found no one in any close proximity to her, she yawned again before making way towards the central portion of the base. With no one to talk to, no one to distract her, she was free to do as she needed, free as she required. But as she walked on amongst the wintry breeze, a giggle carried through the air from behind her.

Maryland glanced back towards the tree, the sound of laughter dancing in her ears. She paused a moment, turning away to see if it would subside. But turning her back to the tree only seemed to draw it out more, as if it's owner found the fact hilarious. Furrowing her brow in confusion, Maryland took a step back towards the tree she'd just been sleeping under. As she did so, the giggling carried with the wind only picked up in volume and intensity. Someone was playing a game with the battleship, and she wasn't sure how she felt about it.

Stepping towards the tree further and further to the point where she was standing just before it, she glanced around. The giggling came with the wind in almost an unnatural way. Maryland approached the tree with caution, but purpose abound as she went on a hunt for the source of the laughter. But approaching it served no purpose, revealed nothing as the laughter continued on unhindered. Whoever it was could easily be defined as having the time of their life based on the noise.

She soon stood before the tree, her first thought that the mystery guest would simply be behind the structure. But when Mary walked only half the way around, she found only empty space greeting her, not a soul in sight. Maryland frowned as she fully walked around the tree, now staring at the spot that would have been back to back with her had their been someone on the other side. She paused for a moment, the giggling continuing a moment, before Maryland turned around, away from the tree.

And came face to face with an upside down, giggling Salem.

"What the f-!" Maryland was cut off, stumbling backwards from the sudden visitor. She ended up falling back against the tree, knocking her head against it's trunk. She winced in a brief, momentary pain, her hand rubbing the part of her head that has made contact before she finally glanced up once again, a periwinkle gaze meeting that of crimson. The heavy cruiser hanging upside from the tree only offered a brief, short and ecstatic giggle before offering a wave, her smile shining in the wintry sunlight.

"Sup." Salem offered from her spot, her arms returning to their places of hanging like noodles below her as she looked to the battleship. Maryland blinked somewhat, the battleship considering what was going on before she addressed the cruiser.

"Salem, W-what're you doing?" She questioned. Salem in turn arched a brow at the battleship before taking a brief glance around before shrugging her shoulders, her arms moving somewhat with the motion as she did so.

"Hanging around." She offered in simplicity. Maryland's gaze stayed on the woman a few moments longer, unwilling to move herself, unwilling to check if this was a dream that maybe she hadn't woken up from. But after a few silent seconds, she opened her mouth.

"Why?" She asked. Salem paused, at least having the decency to seem like she was putting some thought into her response.

"Why not?" She asked in retort. Maryland had been expecting a lot of answers, she was honest. But that response was not one she had thought the cruiser of giving. Salem instead gave a wide grin in return as she shrugged, her upside down posture correct and on form as she watched Maryland.

"How did you even get up there?" Maryland asked. Once again, the heavy cruiser seemed to pause at the question as if she was taking a moment to go over the options in her mind. And after a few moments, her answer was simple.

"Dunno." Salem replied. Maryland's gaze went hard and narrow as she focused her attention on the heavy cruiser completely, the battleship once again getting to her feet.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Maryland questioned. Salem shrugged her shoulders at that, crossing her arms under, or in this case on top of her chest as she kept gazed with the woman, now eye level with the battleship.

"Well, typically it's associated with one's lack of knowledge or understanding, mostly used in terms or references of-" Salem tried, but Maryland waved a dismissive hand.

"That's not what I mean and we both know it." She said as she offered a stern glare to the heavy cruiser at the answer. Heavy cruiser in question, her arms still crossed as she hung before Maryland. But as the battleship looked over the woman, as she looked over the heavy cruiser before, she noted a few things... wrong. Sure, the cruiser was hanging from the branch because she had legs wrapped around it, but things weren't behaving like they should. For one, the cruiser's hair should've been draped down past her head, and yet it stayed against her back, even the hair in front unmoving. Her clothing, she herself, none of it was submitting to Gravity's will. "How're you-"

"How am I settling in?" Salem questioned with a hum. The heavy cruiser paused somewhat at the thought, at the question that had been pressed onto her person. Maryland paused, shaking her head. That wasn't what she'd been meaning to ask at all, but as she thought about it, as she wondered a little bit longer, she found that her question simply seemed... less important than the one Salem has put forth. Rolling her shoulders somewhat, Maryland nodded, Salem offering a grateful smile in return. "Well enough I might say. So far, there hasn't been any pressing issues of the negative sorts. Though I suppose I should be thanking you and the part of the fleet that's been here for months compared to my not even a week."

"I... don't follow." Maryland admitted, crossing her arms as she looked to the cruiser. Salem shrugged from her position, crossing her arms.

"I mean in the sense of the groundwork laid between the fleets. I imagine that the air was not as clear beforehand so to speak as it is now." She explained to the battleship. "Such as the cases of Enterprise and Akagi, or Langley and Houshou, Or Missouri- Nevermind." She said with a giggle. Before Maryland could even question why Missouri's name had been brought up, she shook her head, the thought no longer a pressing concern. "They were all crucial in making sure the fleets could greet one another without immediately going for the neck." She said.

"So then I take it that you're glad you don't have to worry on that front." She reasoned. Salem nodded at that in response as she did so, as if she wasn't upside down in that very moment.

"Very much so. Though I wasn't known as much of an enemy unlike you or Enterprise, or Jersey, it is nice that I do not have to worry about overly unpleasant exchanges between myself those that we once called the enemy." She explained.

"I take it that you've put that to good use?" Maryland questioned. "Or at least you make it sound like you've put it to good use."

"I've talked to a rough handful of the Japanese, and a few of the other former Axis powers." Salem admitted. "At least in the short time I've been here, the conversations eye opening for the most part. But to be fair, most of the heavy combat ships are eye opening to me. Given, what? My ten years of service pales to only a few years some of them had. And then there are the likes of someone like Kitty Hawk, who watched decades fly by during her service."

"You make it sound like you're not proud of your service." Maryland suggested. Salem shrugged at the statement.

"One may take it however they wish." She reasoned. "Personally, yes, I am proud of my service. But it does not nearly shine as much as some others." She said. Maryland nodded at that as she crossed her arms.

"If we're gonna continue this, can you at least get down? Talking to you like you are is both weird and disconcerting. I'm afraid you're going to fall." She told her. Salem's brows arched at that, apparently unknown concern, before she offered a smile.

"Awwwww, is Maryland worried about little old me?" Salem asked with a smile. Maryland rolled her eyes at the heavy cruiser in return.

"I'd just rather not have to watch as your head cracks open because this tree decides you're not longer wanted. Trees typically aren't rated for thousands of tonnes you know." She reasoned, a hand going to her hip. Salem blinked somewhat at that before frowning somewhat, looking to the battleship.

"I am perfectly safe, thank-" She tried, just before a crack sounded through the air, making Salem freeze in her retort. Maryland glanced at the branch the cruiser had balanced herself on.

"That's not a weight loading branch, Salem. It's a mystery you've managed to hold up there this long." She said. "Getting down would be your best move." She told her. Salem pursed her lips a moment at that before nodding. And doing something that the battleship hadn't seen coming.

She extended her arms towards Mary.

"Help." She requested, almost demanded. Maryland arched a brow, a hand meeting her hip. From this angle, Salem looked to be something akin to a child, having gotten herself somewhere she shouldn'tve and had to bear the awkward period of their parents scolding them.

"Didn't you get up there on your own easily enough?" Mary questioned. Salem paused at the question, at least having the decency to look guilty before nodding. "So then tell me why can't you get down on your own?" She asked.

"Please Maryland, this is not the time for this. Scold me like a child later, I would rather not smash into the concrete." Salem urged, looking more and more desperate as the seconds ticked by, her arms still outstretched to the woman. As much as Maryland wanted to say something in return, she couldn't openly say she wanted to watch the woman smash into concrete either. Sighing, her shoulders slumping, she nodded.

"Place your hands on my shoulders." She instructed. When Salem had done so, she nodded as she reached for the cruiser's sides. "Release your legs." She told the heavy cruiser. Salem nodded at that as she slowly, but methodically brought her legs up from around the branch they were currently holding onto. Immediately, Salem started sliding, started shifting as she began to let go of the branch. But when the fall actually came, it wasn't much of a fall at all. And that proved true as suddenly, Salem found herself fully in the arms of Maryland, one arm along her back and the other hooked under her knees. "Next time you get stuck in a tree, make sure you have a way down." Maryland deadpanned as she let Salem back onto her own two feet.

"What? You think I'm some sort of cat?" Salem question with a playful grin. Mary however only scowled.

"There is still time to throw you into the bay if the lesson doesn't stick." The battleship offered. Salem snorted.

"A fair argument if there ever was one, I'd reckon." The heavy cruiser reasoned. She offered her hands up in a surrender motion, glancing to the ground as she offered a dramatic and prolonged sigh. "Very well. I relent my will to your almighty judgment. I simply ask that you spare little old me from whatever barbaric practices that you see fit." Salem requested. Though the tilt to her voice and the amusement behind each word told the Battleship that she wasn't serious. Though that did raise the question.

"Do you already know about that?" Maryland questioned. Salem's playful attitude seemed to wilt somewhat, glancing at the woman with a curious expression.

"Know about what? The Hipper conflict?" She asked. "Maryland, I don't think there's a single new summon who won't hear something about it. It may be over and dealt with sure, but it happened." She said. "Why? Isn't it dealt with between you, Hipper, and Admiral Johnson?" She questioned.

"I mean, it is." Maryland confirmed. "But it's gonna tug on the nerves if every new summon comes up to me asking if it's true or if it really happened." She told her. "Real old, real fast."

"You laid a German Heavy Cruiser out into the snow, Maryland. Forgive their curiosity if the idea of a Ship going down suddenly doesn't involve sinking thousands of feet into the Abyss." Salem said with a wave of the hand. "Aside from that, I'd be more questioning of your luck. For all intents and purposes, you should've gotten a more severe punishment than simply waking up for a run." She told her. "Even if the Kraut did have it coming in that instance." She told her.

Maryland scowled.

"She's-"

"A German, a friend, I know." Salem told her as she turned to face the battleship. "But want not always the case, and trying to say otherwise is a moot point." She said. "It's all behind us anyways however, so really not much point." She told her. "That fact aside, why does it bother you that I already know? I was going to learn of it sooner or later eventually." She reasoned.

"Yeah, I know... it's just. I don't know. I don't want to be seen as the one who's just a bully." She told her. "Especially not to new summons of other nations."

"You're a Super-Dread, hun." Salem said, laughing somewhat. "You were built and meant to bully. And that being said, your point is a little skewed. I learned of it and I didn't think you were a bully for it. Like I said, the reasoning was there to see." Salem said with a shrug. "No one is going to look at what happened and say Hipper is innocent. Ignorant, sure, but she lost the innocent card the second her hands grazed Admiral Johnson." She told her. "Though, considering her hands met something that didn't belong to her in the first place, again, I can't say I really blame you all that much for how you reacted." The cruiser reasoned. Maryland paused.

"What?" Maryland immediately questioned.

"I mean, I don't think I was that hard to understand." Salem reasoned with a hand on her hip. "Admiral Hipper laid her hands on something that didn't belong to her. And the following response was an appropriate one in my opinion." She said. "Or were you going to stand there and try to tell me that there's nothing between you and Admiral Johnson, hmm?" She reasoned, her gaze now landing on the battleship. Maryland seemed to pause somewhat before wheeling on the woman, her eyes snapping onto Salem. "What? Oh please don't tell me you're going to sit here and try to deny it." Salem pleaded.

"But-"

"Admiral Johnson was Glowing the morning I came through, Maryland. GLOWING." She told her. "And that kind of Glow? The ways for it are few and far between." Salem said with a laugh. "I may have been on base for a relatively short amount to time, but I do know a happy woman when I see one." She reasoned before turning a sly glance on the battleship. "Maryland~"

Maryland froze momentarily before she wheeled fully on the woman, her face breaking out into a luminescent blush. Salem only cackled as she moved as the battleship moved for her, the cruiser dashing around the tree.

But when Maryland went to follow her, she found herself paused.

Salem was gone.

Only a distant giggle carried with the wind let her know.

—/—/—/—/—/—/—

She stood amongst the empty carrier range, her schedule finally free, her work finally minimized. It'd been weeks, months even since the topic had been first discussed. But now, that she actually had the time and need to do so, it was actually going to happen.

Of course, that meant it was happening on her terms, at a time of her choice.

That meant it was currently oh six hundred hours. And Anya herself was wide eyed and ready for the day. She'd moved her run up earlier, caught a shower, and had enough coffee in her system to put a nuclear reactor to shame. Of course, she didn't know how her prospective students, but that at this point in time wasn't her main concern.

She and Kitty Hawk had spent a majority of the previous night making sure that the weapons were cleaned and maintained properly, something she'd kept up with since they'd gotten them. It had taken some work sure, but letting them sit simply wasn't an option.

But as she approached the crates nestled into the corner of the room, she stretched her arms somewhat before she committed. Anya made her way for the first, the one she knew contained the Garands that had been sent over for the girls, Anya herself was going to get started. She wanted to make sure she could actually hit something before she decided she was going to embarrass herself in front of the Carriers. Lifting up the lid to the crate, and placing it to the side, she looked over the rifles a moment before picking one of them, it being located more towards the center of the group.

Anya knew how to shoot, that wasn't the problem. Her father, with her mother's graces, had put her through her paces when it came to handling firearms. All of her family, mother aside, knew how to handle a gun. When Anya had asked her mother, when she herself was around 16 or 17 why she didn't use guns, her mother hadn't really offered a response. She'd said that if she had to, she'd use a gun, but the answer had seemed hesitant. And if it really came to it, where there were no guns, her mother had said she herself willing to fight.

Anya had always chocked the answer up to her mother's sometimes twisted since of humor for the most part, but she'd never once seen her mother angry or upset enough to even begin to resort to violence. Sure, she was military through and through, but Violence and military service wasn't the same thing. Nancy had not once faltered on her promise to protect her children, but even Anya wondered where that line was drawn and if her mother crossing it was something that she'd ever see in her lifetime.

Probably not if she was making an educated guess.

Hefting the rifle from the crate, getting a solid grip on the weapon, pulling it up and out. Immediately, she moved for the smaller crate next to it as she went for the Ammo crates. Given that she herself and no one else was fitted to recover planes, she was going to elect for the practice ammunition. Which, the more she thought about it was odd because the practice ammunition was in actuality live ammunition. The non practice ammo, their 'live' ammo was in turn the rounds that launched their planes.

Pocketing two mags for later use, she took the third magazine and loaded it through the top of the rifle, pulling the bolt back when she had. Everything snapped into place as Anya reached for her pocket, coming away with two ear buds, notably for hearing protection. Slipping them in, making sure they themselves secure, she pulled the rifle back up. It slipped up to her shoulder in an almost natural way, the woman already assuming her position. Looking beyond at the target sitting out on the water, having been out there by her fairies in miniature tugboats, they waited patiently as the assorted fairy crews watched their 'Ship'.

The waiting only lasted a few seconds however as the first shot rang out in the early morning, waving hard to the right as it hit the target in the right side. Clicking her tongue in mild annoyance, she readied her next shot.

This one was closer on track to the middle, but not quite there. The fairies sitting in the tugboats below the target only watched, looking up to the target as the round impacted before glancing back to Anya. It was good. She'd not forgotten how to shoot, which she was thankful for. But making her aim a little more consistent wouldn't be a bad thing in her mind. Her third shot rang through the early morning silence, and she couldn't help but wonder. Sure, she had students and a class to teach, but she pondered just who or how much of the base she was waking up. Sure, the Garand wasn't the loudest gun in the world, but it was also no where near what one would call quiet.

More and more of the combined force of fairies the woman carried about her sprawled out along the ground, sitting in groups or simply standing as they watched the woman shoot. She shook her head, seeing it as not needed, but she appreciated the support nonetheless.

But it was only once her eighth shot had been fired and her hearing protection pulled from her ears did something change. The sound of the Rifle crate being opened and rooted around within occurred to her, the woman turning to investigate. And there she found one of her newest, but already well adapted carriers standing there, hefting a rifle of her own to her person. But compared to the rifle that had already been issued to her, the M1 now resting in her hands was likely a paperweight in comparison.

"Admiral." Kitty Hawk greeted with a smile as she noted the woman's gaze on her. Anya paused a moment before nodding at the woman.

"Kitty." She returned. "I know I asked you to help with the class, but you didn't have to turn up so early." She told her. The big carrier shrugged her shoulders, rolling them a moment before she approached the firing line, not quite loading the rifle just yet.

"I could ask the same to you, ya know?" Kitty questioned. "Just because you're teaching a class doesn't mean you have to be here at the asscrack of dawn, you know." She told her with a hand on her hip, her other hand gripping the rifle. Anya offered a shrug at the statement.

"Wanted to make sure I wasn't going to just shoot the water when the class finally arrived." She told her. "Didn't need carriers of five different nations laughing at me when it finally came down to it." She told her. "Not that I'll have all of them watching at one time, mind you, but the existential dread of being laughed at by a bunch of eighty year old women is there." She told her, though the laughter filtering her words and each syllable she spoke was clear enough to the carrier. Kitty Hawk only smiled at that as she came to a stop next to the woman as she fished a magazine from her pocket. As she did so, Anya pulled the bolt back on her rifle, ejecting the mag with the all too famous Ping.

"Ah, the sound of freedom in the morning is a right beautiful thing, I'd reckon." Kitty Hawk offered. Anya only chuckled somewhat as she pulled a second mag from earlier from her pocket, already loading it into the rifle. "But yeah, you might have a point, the eighty year old women can be right mean when they want to be." She said. "Aside from when they're trying to jump your bones."

"You make it sound like that's an overarching problem I have." Anya laughed. "It's just Mary that makes those promises." She told her as she pulled the bolt back, letting it slam shut as she brought the rifle up again.

"Where you can hear them, yes." Kitty Hawk supplied cryptically as she brought her own rifle up to her shoulder. But her words prompted Anya to falter somewhat, bringing the rifle down hesitantly.

"What?" She questioned, even though she herself was screaming at her not to answer internally. Kitty Hawk only offered a smile however, glancing at the woman in almost a satisfied disbelief.

"Don't tell me you don't at least suspect it? I mean sure, most of it's just dreamy talk and the like, but don't tell me you've never considered that more than just Maryland fancy you? Not all of them, not by a far margin. But there's a quiet minority amongst the base that stays that way, given how vocal Maryland is about the prospect. And the way she laid Hipper out in the snow enforces her opinion to the others." She said. "In other terms, you're a forbidden fruit." She said. Anya paused at this, the new info she was being given almost an overload of sorts.

"You're not... one of them, right?" Anya questioned, looking up at the carrier. Kitty Hawk shook her head as she shouldered the rifle in her hands.

"No." Kitty replied as she took her first shot, the round damn near meeting the center of the target. "The second we become less Classified, I'm going hunting in the 7th Fleet's HQ." She told her as she fired off her second shot, her finger just barely meeting the trigger. Like her first round, this one fell short of the bullseye by inches. "Not that you wouldn't be a catch, but realistically, that list is so backed up. Even if Maryland didn't have dibs enforced by violence, I'm a relatively new summon compared to most. So my chance isn't even visible compared to some." She said before pausing. "This conversation doesn't make you weirded out or anything, right?" She said.

Anya shook her head at that as she brought her own rifle up.

"If It did, I would've nipped it months ago." She said. "But I can't say it's a great thing for my ego." She told her with a slight laugh as she popped off a round, her shot meeting the target high of the bullseye. Kitty Hawk laughed in response to that declaration as she popped off her third shot. "Though I do want to know, just this. How many are there?" She asked. "That you know of immediately?" She questioned.

"I invoke my right of silence." Kitty replied hastily. Anya only huffed at that as she finally brought her rifle up, taking aim. Firing off a shot, this time it swung far left, still marking the target, but missing the bullseye.

"Should of figured that was gonna be my response." She reasoned. Kitty Hawk nodded.

"So are things going okay between you and Maryland?" Kitty Hawk questioned. "I mean come on, what's the reasoning behind you not already being with her?" She asked. "Mary's a nice girl." She reasoned. Anya rolled her eyes at that.

"Must every carrier I know interrogate me for an answer?" She asked. Kitty Hawk smirked at that, offering a coy grin in Anya's direction.

"Says the woman that in only a few moments, is going to be alone with carriers for around an hour." She offered. "Repeatedly. For the next two weeks. Per your instruction and recommendation." She reasoned. "It's a good thing you're Navy. Because you've already dug yourself a few too many holes in your path."

"Even if that made a lick of sense, I'm not worried." She said. "Their focus is gonna be on the guns, not on me. And if it's not, I'll have to correct that. These aren't toys after all, and they're first time shooters. They're gonna have to focus." She told her with a confident nod of the head. Kitty Hawk paused somewhat at that, arching a brow to the woman.

"How... how many students are you having?" She asked.

"Twelve or so." Anya answered as she finally shouldered her rifle once again, firing off another round. She didn't notice, didn't take note of Kitty's sudden smirk of amusement as the carrier shouldered her own rifle once again, firing off a shot of her own. Both of the rounds swung wide to the left, missing the bullseye up to that point, but all shots had been on target.

A silence settled between the two of them as they finished off the magazines they had loaded, eventually ejecting them with two more of the iconic pings. As Anya lowered her rifle, she shrugged. "To answer your question though? Why me and Mary haven't gotten together? It just wouldn't fit." She told her. Kitty paused somewhat, as if contemplating her words a few seconds before lowering her own rifle.

"Run me through that thought process." She told her. "Because the way I and so many others see it, you and Maryland ending up hand in hand is the ideal scenario." She said. "Largely so we can get that damn pool paid out." The big carrier muttered under her breath. Anya snorted at that reasoning as she held the rifle at her side while she glanced at Kitty.

"Even more reason to not divulge my reasons." She told her in short reply. "Sides, the way I see it, it really isn't any of your business anyways in the real long term, what I do in my own private time." She reasoned. "That's not me trying to be rude either, I'm just sayin."

"You worry too much." Kitty Hawk replied with a dismissive wave. "But not my business? Sure, I'd buy that. After all, there was nearly a decade between she was relieved of her service and I was pushed into mine. But that doesn't fit the whole fleet either. You're gonna tell me her sisters are gonna see it that way?" She asked. Anya rolled her eyes.

"Colorado and West Virginia are not-"

"Not here, yes of that I am aware." Kitty Hawk replied. "But she has more sisters in the likes of those she knows. Similar, but not quite the same to the relationship that you share with the Captain. Giggling together when others backs are turned, when only the two of you know what the other will say. Sisters, are you not?" Kitty questioned. "Or further yet, the relationships you've started to thoroughly build with Enterprise and Lexington, two of your first ship girls. I've watched the three of you interact with one another. Everything you do, every word you offer comes to them naturally. And the same in return." She offered. "One of the ways that you and Maryland are alike, in the fact that you two build loyalty and companionship where you step." She told her.

Anya was quiet a moment at that before glancing to Kitty. "Just so we're clear, Captain Algerona doesn't giggle. Her words, not mine." She so promptly informed her. Kitty Hawk only nodded, a smile stretching her lips.

"Ah yes my bad." She said with a quick smile. "Captain Algerona simply laughs. And that is the end of it." She reasoned. Anya nodded at the statement, offering her a smile in response to that as she did so.

"Exactly." She said. "But I suppose you have a point in some of which you say. But that doesn't automatically mean they're entitled to the information either." Anya told her. "My intentions with Maryland are-"

"Your intentions?" Kitty questioned, though the grin she offered the woman was more than telling. Anya briefly began to trip over herself at the sudden realization of what she'd just said out loud, and to Kitty Hawk no less.

"That's not what I meant and we both-"

"Do we know it though?" Kitty asked with an overly amused smile. "Because typically when one specifies that they have intentions, that typically indicates that yes, that one in particular has a plan. Be honest with me." Kitty chuckled. "Is that Colorado class aft finally getting to you?" She asked with a hardly suppressed grin.

There was a lot Anya could say in return to that if she was being honest, but she pushed those down. One misslip of the tongue was hardly the most damming piece of evidence in her case. And she hardly doubted that Kitty was going to invest everything she had in a simply mistake even as the carrier rested the butt of the rifle on the ground next to her.

"You could just finally come out and be honest with everyone." Kitty suggested. "That yeah, you have a thing for Maryland."

"That implies that I feel something for Maryland in a way beyond that of a caring Admiral keeping checks on her subordinates." Anya returned with an open hand. Kitty Hawk nodded in return to that as she glanced to the woman.

"Telling me that you don't would be a bold faced lie, and I for one do not fancy being lied to so openly to my face." Kitty Hawk replied. "I suppose the question now however is whether or not you realize you're lying to yourself." She told her. Anya only smiled at that.

"Someone's fairly confident in what most anyone else could describe as a theory at best." She told her in response. "Why so much focus on me anyways? We could focus on you for a bit. How're you settling into base and all that." Anya asked. Kitty smirked in response.

"If you could find a single person more interested in little old me and what I have going on, I would be amazed. But as it stands, for who you are and what you represent to those on base? You're one of the main focuses. Especially for your potential connection to Maryland, and if not her, then someone else." She said with a nod.

"Just because it might not work out between me and Maryland doesn't mean you can immediately find someone else to mash me with." She told her. Kitty Hawk laughed at that.

"If you don't end up with Maryland, my next bet is Admiral Hipper." Kitty guessed. The look however that popped up on Anya's face at the suggestion as she fully turned her attention to the carrier didn't suggest that much liked, nor relished that idea.

"At least someone fancies themselves a comedian." Anya monotoned. Kitty only smiled at that as she nodded.

"If not Hipper, then who would you see yourself with?" Kitty questioned. "If the circumstances were the same, but Mary wasn't apart of the picture." She asked openly. Anya snorted at that, shaking her head as she went to answer.

"That's a hard assumption that if Maryland wasn't here, I would go for someone else. And that's not saying I'm going for Maryland either, I'm just saying." She said. "You assume me incapable of waiting for this war to end to find someone, someone less capable of crushing me in my sleep if they roll to the wrong side of the bed." She told her. "And let's be honest here, you don't even know if I'm gay." She told her with a confident smile.

"I wish my ears still held their virginity." Momi piped in from behind the woman, the Amazon making herself known. Anya screamed internally as she made a show of staying focused on the carrier before, trying her best not to show Momi any attention.

"I mean, aren't you?" Kitty Hawk replied.

Anya only stared.

"What?" Anya questioned. "What about me tells you I'm gay?" She asked, now genuinely curious. At that same time, Kitty seemed to withdraw somewhat at the question.

"Aside from you shagging a battleship? Hmmmm, wonder what would classify you as gay." Momi hummed in thought from across the Carrier range. Anya refused to offer Momi even the slightest sign that she was being paid any attention as the carrier next to her shrugged, scratching her head.

"I don't know...?" She finally returned. Anya only snorted at that as she made to respond, only for the sound of the door opening behind them sounded through the air. The two of them turning to watch, there they found Enterprise, Lexington, and Shangri-La all entering the carrier range. Based on their collective expressions, none of them were ideal in getting up this early. But Anya paused for a moment.

"Lala?" Anya called. Shangri-La seemed to hold her usual dislike for the nickname in turn, but instead the woman only elected to offer a paltry wave to the woman.

"Hi Admiral." Shangri-La offered in greeting before yawning again, covering her mouth with a hand. Anya paused somewhat at the appearance of the woman before looking to Enterprise and Lexington.

"I thought I had the two of you scheduled." Anya recalled. "We discussed this a while ago." She told them. Lex and E nodded at that, Lex stifling a yawn with a hand.

"Sure did. Feels like it was years rather than just a few months, but yeah, we discussed it." She confirmed. "But Lala wasn't even close to getting here when we did. Figured there wasn't going to be an issue if she watched, right?"

"Well no, I guess, especially if she has the intention to learn later down the road. But I'm not making room in the current class if that's what you're after. I wanna get those that wanted to first taught and then I'll put together a second group." She told her. "Current group is enough of a mixed bag as is, what with six Japanese carriers to boot."

"Wait? Six? This is rifle training, yeah? What the fuck do the japs want with rifle training?"

"I assume to learn how to shoot." Enterprise answered with a smirk, nudging Lala with an elbow. The Essex carrier scowled at that as she looked back to Anya.

"Which ones then if they're so sure on how learning to shoot?" Lala requested. Anya paused momentarily at that as she recalled the names that she needed.

"Uh, Houshou, Souryuu, Hiryuu, Zuikaku, Shouho, and Zuiho." Anya told her. "So combing them with Enterprise, Lexington, Langley, Cabot, and the Midway's, that's a class of thirteen." She said. "Luckily, I'm not as nervous about it as I was before hand because now I have Kitty here to help as well." Anya said as she looked to the carrier. Kitty offered a nod in return as she did so, a hand going to her hip as she stepped to the side.

"Does this mean we get to learn how to shoot Kitty's rifle too?" Lex asked with a devious chuckle. The deadpanned stare she got in return however at the mention of the big carrier's rifle told the carrier just what Kitty Hawk thought of that little idea. Anya was fixing to voice her own sentiments on the idea when Cabot, Wright, Princeton, Independence, and Saipan entered the range. Anya paused somewhat, a slight frown overtaking her expression a moment.

"I assume most of you are here to watch I take it? Cabot aside?" She questioned. Though the rising suspicion in her voice was notable, something that made both Lexington and Enterprise outwardly chuckle.

"I think she might be catching on." Lexington whispered. But saying she whispered was a moot point as Anya immediately focused in on the carrier, scowling somewhat.

"How many of the carriers are showing up for this class?" Anya demanded, looking to her oldest carriers in the room for an answer. Enterprise and Lexington shrugged at that as E crossed her arms, shaking her head.

"I can safely assure you, Admiral, that the escort carriers are not about to walk through that door." She told her in total confidence.

"That's still thirty four of you!" Anya pushed back. But before E or Lex could reply in turn to the woman's understandable outburst, the door opened once again, this time admitting Hiryuu and Souryuu into the room. But after them came the other four of the six, Kaga and Akagi bringing up the rear. After they came Graf Zeppelin, Ark Royal, and Melbourne. "Oh Jesus Christ." Anya swore, much to the amusement of the longer serving American carriers and Souryuu and Hiryuu.

"Should we be causing the Admiral this much distress?" Princeton asked in an unsure manner as she glanced between the other four light carriers present at the moment. Saipan and Wright shrugged as Cabot shrugged.

"Don't worry, Prince. She does it to herself most of the time." She said with a shrug of the shoulders, her placid tone turning to a laugh fairly quickly when she noticed the woman's gaze turning on her in moments, the look of an unamused admiral settling in on her. The other American carriers, which meant E and Lex, only cackled at the stare that Anya had leveled at the light.

"Don't kill the young ones, Admiral!" Enterprise cried out as she took the woman in with her own arms. "Don't do it Admiral! They deserve to live!" Enterprise called in an over exaggerated fashion. Anya's eyes narrowed as she looked to the carrier.

"Tell me then, old one." Anya asked. "Just how many carriers are going to be here today? On this morning when I'm trying to teach a class?" She questioned, staring Enterprise in the eyes.

Enterprise did not flinch.

"All of them." She chirped.

Anya paused.

And then she slowly brought up her hands, reaching them towards the carrier, Enterprise offering no reaction to the movement. But when the Admiral's hands slowly began to gather a grasp on the carrier's neck, Enterprise's eyes widening slightly. Slowly moving her head back and forth, Anya made a joking gesture at strangling the woman, Enterprise playing along as she did so.

"Oh no! Admiral's gone off the deep end!" Lexington cried. "She's gonna kill Enterprise!" She said with a flourished point, just as Langley, Houshou, Shouho, and Zuiho walked in. The four of them momentarily paused at the sight before them before they adjusted as per the usual and settled in. Anya continued to jokingly push Enterprise back and forth by the neck a moment before huffing, her arms falling to her sides a moment.

"Why do you guys torture me like this? Why'd you even make them get up this early? They had time to sleep in, to get rest. I mean come on, Yorktown and Hornet got back at midnight yesterday, and they're supposed to be here as well?" She asked. But as if answering her question, both sets of Yorktown and Hornet walked through the door, followed by the rest of the carriers missing from their current group. Before Anya even knew what was happening, she had 34 carriers packed into the range with her in the early hours of the morning.

"This is just looking like another interrogation." Anya drawled. "Except this one my captors are armed." She muttered. Some of the carriers present laughed at that.

"Hey, come on now. With all the new sorties coming up and how we're doing things now, days when we're all on base are gonna be a thing of the past. We figured one last get together wouldn't be a bad thing, no?" Lexington asked honestly.

"Are we actually gonna have a class, or am I gonna stand here for the next two hours answering questions why I haven't gotten it in with Maryland?" She asked. "Because one of you is going to open your mouth, and this point, the only ones I trust not to ask that question are Ark, Graf, and Melbourne. And even then, that probably won't last long." She reasoned more to herself than anyone.

"To be fair, you did ask Maryland to bend you over your desk." Enterprise supplied from her spot before Anya, her hands at her side as well. Anya scowled.

"I will strangle you for real."

"Violence is never the answer Admiral." Enterprise replied cheekily, quickly darting out of the way as Anya reached for her. Huffing again, turning towards the majority the carriers in the range.

"Fine." She eventually relented. "I don't have an issue with you all being here as long as something is getting done. And I don't mind you further exploring the apparent possibilities of a future between myself and Maryland or any other ship girl you may amuse yourself with, but that's not gonna overtake the class." She told them with a hand on her hip. "Because, unlike the lot of you, I am not bulletproof and would like to remain bullet free."

"She can take charge." Langley hummed. "I didn't think it possible." The motherly carrier reasoned. Anya paused at that, blinking.

"What?" She asked. Langley offered the woman a smile.

"Well, it's just that I'd never pegged you as the one to wear the pants in a relationship." Langley reasoned. "Seeing that it isn't exactly so true anymore is refreshing." She reasoned. Anya held the carrier's gaze a moment as she registered what had just been said to her before rolling her eyes.

"So if you're okay with any ideas, I'm gonna be honest." Souryuu offered. "The idea of you and New Jersey hitting it off if things don't work with Maryland is a real promise. She's like, really Brutish. And you're not. It's perfect!" She reasoned. Anya blinked at that."

"Brutish?" She questioned.

"Plus, she's like a good eight inches taller than you." Hiryuu reasoned. "Good for those... submissive moments." She told her.

"Oh my god." Anya bemoaned. "I said possible pairings! That does not mean immediately go for my private life." She said.

"I mean come on, Admiral!" Hiryuu insisted. "Just imagine, Battleship New Jersey sprawled out over top of you, looking down at you with eyes full of need, an expression-"

"Hey, Fanfic." Saratoga interceded. "Keep it E for everyone would you? I don't need new nightmares thank you very much." She muttered. Hiryuu only huffed at that, but her momentum was killed. She stopped her idea mid sentence as the carrier fell silent as Graf Zeppelin, currently leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, spoke up.

"I think you'd be good for Admiral Hipper." The German carrier supplied her. Before Anya could even voice her own thoughts on the idea, before she could get a word in edgewise, some of the carriers, notably Enterprise, Lexington, and Saratoga wheeled on the German carrier as Kitty Hawk laughed at the choice, finding it agreeable.

"Admiral Hipper!?" Lexington demanded as her hands met her hips. "You honestly believe that Admiral Hipper is the ideal after what she did? She left a damn bruise on her neck!" Lexington cried. Graf Zeppelin simply shrugged in response to that outburst, looking at the carrier.

"They both grew as people after the fact." Graf told her. "Admiral Hipper is no longer like she was when she first crossed over, and I would like to think Admiral Johnson leans to the side of caution because of it." She reasoned. "Both gained valuable insight to their current situations and I assume it will serve them well."

"Admiral Hipper nearly killed her." Enterprise supplied. "Learning be damned, she nearly ended her life then and there." She claimed. Graf shrugged as she stared the carrier down.

"And tell me, who stood there and told Admiral Hipper that her strength could become a danger in moments of anger, In moments of high emotion. Tell me, who stood there and explained everything about her new life in an easy way to understand? Make no mistake, Hipper's prejudices needed to be quelled, she needed to be pulled down to an easier level." She said as her eyes found Anya's in a cold manner. "But letting the hound known as Maryland out on her wasn't the right way to go about it, even if the end result was ideal."

"Why you-"

"Stop" Anya interjected, prompting Enterprise and Lexington to pause somewhat as the rest of the carriers simply waited. "I've said this before and that it's been handled, questionable methods or not. Don't get mad at Graf for what she says because I've said the same thing. Both of us are at fault, and yeah Graf has a point. I didn't sit there, nor did anyone else, sit there and tell her that her strength could be a danger. But I'm not going to sit here and have you tear Graf apart for having a varying opinion of something I've said has already been handled." She said. "Now let it rest." She told them, her gaze locked solely on Enterprise and Lexington. The two of them paused a moment before pulling back towards the woman. As they did so, Graf looked to Anya once again.

"Tell me though, and be honest. If it came down to it, even with everything that's happened between the two of you, if the situation came about and the stars aligned, would you actually consider her? Would you actively consider a life with Admiral Hipper?" She questioned, crossing her arms. At the question however, most if not all of the room turned their eyes on Anya.

"That's a weighted question." Hornet, CV-12 chuckled. "If there ever was one."

"But it's a telling question." Argus added from her spot. Hornet nodded at that as Anya paused somewhat as the question presented itself to her mind, the woman glancing down at the rifle in her hand somewhat so that she wouldn't have to meet any of their eyes.

"Ooo, the avoidance is real. Admiral Johnson may surprise us all here." Chiyoda offered as Chitose laughed next to her. Her laughter died away a moment later as Saratoga and a select few others, both American and not, shushed them up.

"If I'm being honest?" Anya questioned. "I would." She answered as she brought her gaze up to the carriers. But immediately, she noted Graf Zeppelin's gaze change from questioning to smug.

"So you are Gay." Graf confirmed. "Or at least open enough to actively consider dating someone of the same gender." The German carrier reasoned. Immediately, Anya realized she'd been conned. Saratoga put it together faster than Anya had though, already letting out a dark chuckle.

"The kraut brought up drama, on threat of her own well being, just to get an honest answer out of you." She laughed somewhat as she reached for the readied fist of the German carrier in question, bumping it against her own. "Nice going, Zipper." She laughed as the rest of the range now focused solely on Anya. The Admiral only rolled her eyes, huffing at that before shaking her head somewhat.

"I swear to god, I'm going to go gray before I'm thirty five." Anya droned. Saratoga snorted at that as E and Lex rolled their eyes.

"That's a load of BS." Saratoga said with a chuckle. "A load of us have seen your mother. She's more of a blonde than you are and she's like double your age at least." The carrier told her. "Honestly, if I didn't know who she was or figured it out, I honestly would have called her as your sister." She said. "For a woman only a couple decades younger than some of us, your mother is-"

"Saratoga, I swear to god, do not finish that statement." She said with a pointed glare. Saratoga chuckled at the reaction somewhat

"What made her pick the Air Force? She could've done so well in the Navy." Saratoga asked as she crossed her arms. Anya paused at that, mulling over the question a hard moment before she shrugged.

"I don't really know why she chose Air Force." Anya reasoned before shaking her head. "That aside, we aren't going to sit here and chat about my mother when she's not-"

"I can call her." Enterprise chirped in suppliance. Anya blanched somewhat at that apparent piece of information, filing away the fact that Atlanta was passing around her family's phone numbers, before shaking her head.

"All topic of conversation regarding my mother is to be considered no longer viable. If I hear another word in reference to the woman, you'll be out on the bay in no time flat. Do I make myself clear?" Anya asked somewhat, glancing around the range. When she'd done so, and no one seemed to be willing to challenge her rule, at least in that direct moment, Anya sighed. "Why is it that any time I turn my back, you guys just seem to have another of my family's numbers? Where did you even get them from?" She questioned.

"Mississippi?" Cabot supplied, questioning her as if the answer was almost self explanatory.

"Mississippi?" Anya parroted.

"Mississippi?" Cabot returned. "She's been texting Danny since he visited for Thanksgiving." She explained to the woman. "Though, lately she's been more secretive about the whole thing." She explained. Anya paused at this information, her mind taking it's sweet time processing the fact that one of her girls had been in direct contact with her brother.

"Huh." Was all Anya offered as reply for a moment.

"Heh, Admiral's gonna have a ship girl for a sister-in-law." Yorktown, the Essex, chuckled as she crossed her arms. "I mean, you're fairly in good luck. Missy's a good looking girl and your bother-"

"Is a SEAL." Saratoga supplied. Yorktown's eyes shot wide at that in surprise, suddenly leaning forwards as she laughed, her hand sliding down the side of her face at the revelation.

"Oh my god." She howled. "Admiral, you can never let the two of them go anywhere alone. A SEAL? And a Battleship? You realize how much they're gonna-"

"STOW THAT!" Anya called, her voice going stern. Yorktown cackled at the outburst as a number of her fellow carriers, some American, some not, followed suit. The reaction they'd drawn from Anya was sweet, her exasperation sweeter. But the woman herself didn't think so as she sighed. "Someone tell me why it's always just me? There's five commanders on base at this very moment. So why is it always me being backed into a corner?" She questioned.

"The main reason? It's too easy." Cabot replied. "And your reactions are A-grade."

"Besides." Hiryuu reasoned. "Admiral Ishigara is much too old to tease or poke at him with this kind of thing. It would honestly be kind of disrespectful, especially with him being born so close to when we were alive." She said. Anya's brow furrowed at the disrespectful comment, not seeing the logic there before their reasonings continued.

"Admiral Herkunft has a kid." Saratoga told her. "She's pretty much spoken for in terms of which way she rolls and her history." She told her. "At least at the forefront. And bugging her about it, again, doesn't seem or feel right."

"And King, well, we're pretty sure if we even approach the subject with him, the young man will just die of embarrassment." Jun'you offered from her spot, bottle of sake firmly in her grasp. Anya's shoulders slumped partly a moment before she paused, thinking a moment. They'd left someone out.

"And the Captain?" She asked. Enterprise chuckled somewhat at that, scratching the back of her head.

"Captain Algerona... is someone we'd just rather not push the subject on too far." She offered in response. "I mean, it's clear the Captain has better things to do than be bugged with personal details about her private life." Enterprise offered. Anya held her come back a moment as she digested Enterprise's response. All for a moment before the woman smirked somewhat.

"You see, it's that kind of response that makes me lean towards the conclusion that you're afraid of the Captain. But that simply can't be." She offered with a smirk.

"In E's defense, the Captain isn't the most easily approachable person." Princeton offered. "From just early interactions with her, being under her command is different for sure. But if we were just strangers on the street? There's no way I'd view her as approachable if I needed, like, help." The light carrier said.

"Okay, to further explain that reasoning, let's say hypothetically the two of you had kids when the war got over. The Captain had her family. And you had your family." Saipan said. "And let's say, like, your kid is getting picked on at the park, kid comes crying back to you and all that jazz. Well, you go over to the bully's parent to walk to them to get this whole situation worked out in a calm manner. And the whole time, the bully's parent is thanking their lucky stars because hey, there's this nice, gentle looking blonde mother coming over to figure this all out."

"And then in the same situation, but switch you and your kid out for the Captain, the bully's parents are just sweating puddles because they've got this woman that looks like she could be the embodiment of anger marching towards them with a mission and ain't taking no for an answer." Wright said. "Honestly, no one's going to hesitate when going to approach you. But the Captain? Leaning on the side of caution is going to be their best friend."

"That's hardly fair." Zuikaku muttered. Most of the eyes in the range travelled to the carrier, Saratoga chuckling.

"My, oh, my. The crane speaks in defense of the Captain." The carrier said in an amused tone. "My surprise is unfathomable." She droned. Zuikaku shot the carrier a dirty look, Saratoga returning it in full, the atmosphere of the range becoming a little dark. Anya huffed somewhat at that.

"No, no. We're not doing that right now." She told them. "Get up here Z. E, Lex, you too." She told the three of them. Zuikaku looked a little surprised somewhat at that before she nodded, along with the two American carriers in question, approached Anya. Saratoga only chuckled somewhat at that as she leaned back against the wall.

"Are we still good to keep discussing things?" Zuiho called out, looking to Anya. The woman nodded at that as she looked to Saratoga.

"As long as we don't go intentionally antagonizing people, yes." She confirmed. Saratoga only chuckled as Ark Royal offered a raised hand.

"If I may." She offered as Kitty Hawk stepped towards the crate, grabbing another rifle for the three carriers. "May I present my confusion?" She questioned. Anya paused somewhat at that before nodding, looking to the British carrier.

"And that would be?" She questioned.

"Well, I must admit, Admiral." She told her. "When I first arrived on base and was made aware of the betting pool that I'm sure you know is a thing now." Ark concluded. When Anya nodded, Ark returned it. "I was surprised to find that the bet was between you and Maryland, a ship girl that crossed over months down the road and not one of your original five heavies." She admitted. Anya paused at that somewhat, offering short glances to both E and Lex before looking back to Ark.

"Because...?"

"Bah! What kind of answer is that?" The Essex Hornet declared. "Lex! What gives!? Our class could've been the one in good with the Admiral!" She demanded. Lex rolled her eyes at that as E chuckled somewhat.

"The idea of Enterprise in a relationship with the Admiral is both favorable." Yorktown said with crossed arms. "And an oddity." E's sister reasoned. Enterprise huffed at that as CV-10 casted an eye to the woman of the same name.

"Yeah right." She said with a roll of the eyes. "Lexington is such a better match for the Admiral." Yorktown and Hornet, E's sisters, turned on the carrier at that as Yorktown, Hornet, and Lala began to turn their gazes on the two of them.

"Oh my god." Anya droned on as the five of them descended into squabbling. Pushing them aside for the time being, she began to put her attention on the three carriers before her, ignoring the embarrassed expressions on E and Lex's faces as she began to settle them into Rifle training.

—/—/-/—/—

Her hand ached and shivered inside her pockets, luckily for her that being the only truly cold part of her body at the moment. Removing them from her coat for a time, she rubbed them together for a moment before she returned them to her sides, where both of them were immediately taken up.

She'd never been so grateful that Ship girls didn't get cold before as Anzio and Kitkun held both of her hands as their small group of six navigated the streets of Tokyo.

Captain Algerona did not like the cold like Admiral Johnson did.

It was one of the few cons of going out to Maine to visit the Johnson household in her opinion. Compared to where she's grown up, the deserts of Nevada, the overly cold and wet Maine was a fresh kind of hell that Sofia found herself faced with nearly every year. Well, before the war that was.

But Japan on this day in particular was doing a good job of copying it, what with the flurry of snow blowing through Tokyo at the moment. The woman shivered, a chill running through her person. So much so that the two escort carriers at her sides glanced up to the Captain with giggles in tow, Sofia only chuckling somewhat.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh at the desert dweller." She chided, prompting more drawn out giggling from the two escort carriers. The three of them were at the back of the pack of their group of six, in front of the three walking was the Cranes, Shokaku and Zuikaku. And in front of them, leading their impromptu group, was Liz. She knew where they were headed better than anyone, that being the Kantai Corporation Headquarters. Originally, it had meant to be just Liz, Zuikaku, and Shokaku given that the latter two were slated for a photo shoot with the company for some Promotional artwork.

But Shokaku, without consulting with either Liz or Zuikaku had offered an invitation to the Captain, and Admiral Johnson had pushed her into accepting. Sofia had apparently found herself in the sights of an unlikely, but well working team.

And then the two Escort carriers accompanying them had learned of their supposed trip, and had all but begged to come along as well. And Sofia, knowing the two of them weren't going to be deployed for the day, couldn't find a satisfactory reason to refuse them.

Which now found the six in their current position.

But that also came with a few catches of course, one of them was Zuikaku's all to easily heard grumbling. Even with the bustling after noise of the city itself and the distance between the lot of them, Sofia could still hear the carrier apparently grumbling away to Shokaku. From her position, Sofia could see as the white haired carrier would say something in response to her sister, something she couldn't make out, offer a smile to the girl, and then face forwards as Zuikaku began a new set of apparent grievances. It wasn't her place so to speak to intervene, especially if it wasn't needed. But she was keeping an eye on the carrier as they walked on, just in case.

Another problem Sofia currently had was their surroundings, that being the hustle and bustle of Tokyo. And more notably than that, the people. The problem was, even dressed in civilian clothing like they were, Shokaku and Zuikaku were all to recognizable, especially in Japan. What with Sho's white hair and Z's hair ties, the two carriers were in no way inconspicuous. And that meant whenever someone looked in their direction, their gaze would typically land on her as a bonus. And she'd seen enough of it going already, groups of tourists or friends offering a point and a smile at the two carriers. And then their gaze would finally land on her, and they'd pause.

She imagined that there was already at least 100 pictures of her from just today. And the day wasn't over yet, much to her rising chagrin as she noted another phone come up in her direction.

At least the internet was going to have something to chew on, she supposed, in kind of a dreading way.

She pushed that thought to the back of her mind as she suddenly found Anzio and Kitkun running for Shokaku, now joining the carrier's hands like they had with her own a moment ago. Sofia offered a confused gaze, finding Shokaku looking back at her. The white haired carrier offered only a wink before Sofia realized that in the transition, Zuikaku had slunk back towards herself in turn, the carrier now walking side by side with her.

"Does this mean you want to hold hands then?" Sofia asked with the start of a playful smile tugging at her lips. But the question had seemed to jar the carrier from whatever funk she'd been in, the gray haired carrier wheeling on the woman as Sofia sunk her hands into her pockets.

"Did you know about this?" Zuikaku demanded. Sofia arched a brow at the question as they walked on, the white coat she was wearing keeping most of the cold out.

"Know about what?" Sofia questioned.

"Know about, well, this." Zuikaku answered, widely gesturing around them. Sofia paused, breaking down what Z was asking her a moment before suddenly understanding.

"You mean about the whole field trip." Sofia confirmed. "To answer your question, no. I had literally just gotten down to our office when Shokaku popped inside with the question if I wanted to come." She told her. "Didn't have a reason to accept. But I also didn't have reason to say no. And if I'm being honest, Tokyo's the first real big city like this I've ever seen." She said. "I mean, I saw New York once or twice, but only from like a distance or the edge of the city. Never actually went fully into the city proper." She admitted.

Zuikaku paused.

"Y-you've never been to a big city? I thought you were from Las Vegas." She told the woman. Sofia took that information in with a smirk, it growing wider the more she thought about it.

"No." She told her. "Just because someone is born in Nevada does not automatically mean they're from Las Vegas. Did you honestly think that's where I was born just because Las Vegas is in Nevada?" She asked. When Zuikaku didn't offer a response after a few moments, Sofia shook her head. "No, I am not from Las Vegas. And even then, there's big differences in a city like Vegas and cities like LA and New York. Well, were." She said.

"W-well, where are you from then?" Zuikaku questioned.

"East Nevada." She answered. "But that being said, my hometown had maybe twenty thousand people at the start of this war. Sure, it's likely more now what with refugee movement and fleeing the coasts and the like, but you take that and compare it to somewhere like Vegas, who doesn't even have a million in population? And compare that to somewhere like Tokyo? This is like being in a different world entirely." She told her.

"Where in East Nevada?" Zuikaku asked.

"Elko." Sofia offered in reply. "Big difference between Elko, Nevada and Tokyo, Japan." She confirmed. Zuikaku nodded at that.

"But you were here once before, yeah? Back after New Year's?" Zuikaku asked. Sofia nodded.

"I mean yeah, but we weren't in this deep." Sofia said as she gestured to the towering steel behemoths sitting over their heads. "I mean yeah, you could see them. But being under them like this is different." She told her. Zuikaku offered a brief nod.

"So do you like it then?" She questioned. Sofia arched a brow.

"What? The city?" She asked. "I mean, it's a city. It's nice sure, but far from my own personal preference." She said. "Just because of how I- where I was brought up, I'm more inclined to prefer things on the smaller side. Tokyo? New York? Sydney? You wouldn't find me living anywhere near them." She told the carrier. "What about you? I know you don't have much experience with the whole thing, what with Yoko being your home for the entirety of your return." She told her. Zuikaku considered the question a moment before shrugging somewhat, scratching at her head.

"I don't know...?" Zuikaku admitted. "I'm not even sure I want to live in Japan after the war is over." She told her. Sofia openly stared at the woman, the white and black ensemble of winter clothing she was wearing keeping her warm as a light snowfall began to over take the bustling metropolis.

"What? One of Japan's most prolific carriers? Doesn't want to live in Japan when offered the choice?" Sofia said, putting a hand to her cheek in surprise. "Oh my, what has this world come to?" She questioned. "What would Shokaku think of such a thing?"

"She wants to live in Europe for a while after the war." Zuikaku told her. Sofia blinked.

"Europe? Shokaku?" Sofia puzzled the statement. "Why?" She asked as she glanced to Zuikaku. The carrier paused a moment before shrugging somewhat.

"After I arrived on base back after Fuso and Yamashiro were sunk." Zuikaku said as they walked along behind the other four, Shokaku now walking with Kitkun Bay as Anzio conversed rapidly with Liz, Sofia's full attention was on the fleet carrier. "We both came to the realization that all of our current and all of our past lives have entirely been based out of the Pacific. Expected, I know, for a Japanese carrier. But it still seems odd. Even back during the trip from Pearl, that short stay in Hawaii was the most time I can remember clearly spending in another nation. And even that was only a short, few day stay." She told her. Sofia nodded.

"So it's not that you have anything against Japan, it's just a want to see the world." She said. "I can respect it. Do the other four have the same wish?" She asked.

"You mean like Akagi and Kaga?" Zuikaku asked. When Sofia nodded, Zuikaku shook her head. "Probably not." She answered. "Akagi and Kaga are deep in tradition. They'd likely die before opting to live elsewhere than the home country, just not maybe Yokosuka. Maybe Hiryuu and Souryuu, but they've always kind of tailed after Akagi and Kaga in terms of these decisions. I'd be really surprised to see if those two ended up anywhere but Japan." She told the Captain. Sofia nodded.

"Are there any Japanese ship girls that want to live in the US?" She asked. When Zuikaku offered her a less than pleased return expression, Sofia raised a hand. "I'm just curious is all. Considering who they are, I'm just curious if any of them would actually or have discussed it." She told the carrier. Zuikaku seemed to watch her a moment, trying to decide if she was genuine or not a moment, before she shrugged.

"No one's been very talkative of the idea, but I'm sure there's at least one who's somewhat curious about the idea." She said. "Not me, but I'm sure there's one." She said.

"Would you?" Sofia pushed.

"What?" 

"Would you ever live in the United States?" Sofia questioned.

"No." Zuikaku replied in simple fashion. "I would not. A prolonged visit, maybe." She told her. "But I wouldn't permanently live there. Under any circumstances." She told her. Sofia only offered mock disappointment in return, shaking her head.

"Those are my dreams crushed." She sighed before chuckling somewhat. "But fair I would say." She mused. Zuikaku tilted her head somewhat to say something further, her eyes studying the woman before they found themselves abruptly turning as Liz lead the group of them into one of the shorter skyscrapers among them. As the warm air greeted them as the doors fully opened, the six of them were shortly stopped by two security guards, approaching them. Or, to be more specific, approaching Liz.

"Identification." The bigger of the two asked, more so demanded. Liz offered a nod and a smile as she fished through her purse a moment before pulling out the identification card she needed, offering it to the men. When the one who received it looked over, his eyes seemed to light up somewhat at the apparent realization of just who was before him. Hastily handing the card back to the woman, Liz offered a kind smile as she gestured to the five behind her.

"They're with me. No concern?" She asked.

"No ma'am." Both confirmed. Liz nodded in a satisfactory manner at that as she ushered the five of them along side her as they stepped into the lobby proper, Sofia finally able to get a decent look around.

Liz had said the building itself wasn't new, but instead that the Kantai Corporation had secured it. The lobby itself was nice enough, the floor and various pillars in the space made of marble. A little high end Sofia thought for a game company, but then again, this game company was under everyone's gaze with the world the way it was. Sofia knew that there had been a handful of time that when the JMSDF didn't want to worry about putting news out there in a way, like when Yamakaze, Akashi, and Irako had crossed over, they'd referred judgement to the Kantai Corporation.

It was weird to think that a Video Game developer had such a deep hand in what was actively considered classified material, but it seemed to work, so who was she to judge?

She watched as among those who had business here, Liz lead the six of them to the large round desk, where the woman sitting at it looked up to greet them. And upon spotting Liz approaching, she offered a wide smile as she stood from her spot.

"Ah, Ms. Hiroshi." She greeted with a nod of the head. "You're in luck. Ms. Allisons is in. Shall I let her know that the cranes are in attendance?" She questioned, glancing at the woman. With Liz offered a nod, the desk lady's gaze traveled to the other three members of their group, notably her gaze lingering on Sofia a moment. "And your extras?" She asked.

"Na. Classified and what not." Liz said with a small chuckle. The woman smiled and offered a nod in understanding as she presented them with a digital tablet.

"Please sign here and I'll have visitor passes ready." She told Liz. The woman nodded as she picked up the tablet and turned to Sofia and the rest as the woman vanished behind the desk. Sofia watched her a moment before turning her attention to Liz, watching as she signed off on the tablet.

"Ms. Allisons?" She questioned. Liz offered her a nod as she handed Sofia the tablet in turn.

"Ms. Allisons." Liz confirmed. "The CEO of The Kantai Corporation and the one in the charge of the only non military organization that knows exactly what's going on inside Yokosuka. At least, from the Japanese fleet's perspective. But I wouldn't be surprised if she's started to flex her influence with the US and British Navies." She informed her.

"I'm surprised Allisons-San is in today." Shokaku admitted as the two escort carriers at her side looked up in curiosity.

"I still have yet to meet her." Zuikaku huffed. "And with all the work I've done for this company, you would think I would've gotten at least a hello." She said. Shokaku laughed somewhat as the two Casa's giggled at that as Sofia arched a brow.

"Influence?" Sofia questioned. Liz nodded.

"After all, The JMSDF named KanCon the official video game of the Japanese Fleet program. And their ties are well known. I would imagine that Ms. Allisons, or JJ as I call her, has been working on building further bridges using those ties. Likely while the world's attention is focused on the game." Liz reasoned. Sofia arched a brow.

"You make her sound like she's not the most trustworthy of people out there." Sofia offered. Liz simply shrugged.

"JJ's always had her own way of doing things." She said. "JJ has a bad habit of doing most of her business and making most of her connections when others are turned the other way." She explained. "I've told her this many times, but she persists, and the day someone successfully gets her to change her mind on something that she's decided on?" Liz asked. "That is a day that I will never live to see, I'm absolutely sure of it." She reasoned.

"JJ-San is quite the handful." Shokaku supplied. Sofia arched a brow as Shokaku signed the tablet.

"How do you know her?" Sofia asked as Shokaku carefully placed the tablet on the desk. Liz shrugged.

"Old acquaintance." Liz offered simply. "Before the war, we both worked over in the States, namely Seattle. I ran a establishment there and she worked for a smaller, lesser known company. We'd crossed paths a few time before we really hit it off though." Liz explained. Sofia nodded slowly at that.

"And.. that's it?" She questioned. Liz offered a coy little smile.

"Well, there's more of it that takes you past the bedroom door." She said. "But my guess is that you won't want to know about that." She reasoned. Sofia nodded in immediate understanding at that, raising a hand.

"Yeah, I'm good I think." She admitted. Liz chuckled at that as the desk attendant popped up from the other side once again, presenting with them four visitor passes.

"Shokaku and Zuikaku do not need them given that they're scheduled to be here." She told them as she gestured to the elevator. "It is to be expected, but as a visitor, you are expected to uphold an NDA agreement." She said, looking more to Sofia than anyone. The woman nodded response to that as she did so. Smiling, the woman at the desk moved them on as Liz collected the visitor passes. Securing one to her person and Sofia doing the same, the two of them went about making sure the last two stayed on Anzio and Kitkun and that the two of them weren't about to take them off or play with them. When satisfied that they weren't, or at least that it appeared that they wouldn't mess with them at first, Liz lead them towards one of the elevators nestled towards the back of the lobby. The glass elevator shaft only went up about ten floors as Sofia looked up, but she didn't actually know what floor they were going to.

Watching as the elevator they were approaching opened, letting a few people out on the ground floor, Liz made way for the open door and held it there for the rest of them. Shokaku and the escort carriers followed her in, Z after them with Sofia bringing up the rear. Nearing the button panel, Liz let the door close finally as Sofia looked to the woman for a floor number.

"43." Liz told her. Sofia offered a nod as she hit it and stepped back, allowing the elevator to go about getting them there. But given that this was the first time that the escort carriers in tow had been on an elevator, let alone one so high end, the two of them had their faces pressed to the glass before the elevator had even started to leave the ground floor. Amongst their giggling and amazed looks, Sofia simply offered the two of them head pats as she watched with them.

She was lucky she'd not gotten the same fear of heights that her sister once had.

She found her mind being tugged once more in that direction, of the question of whether or not her sister was okay. It was a question that never really seemed to leave her, one that she never really seemed to be able to escape. The question of her sister stretched from where she may have gone to  was she still alive today.

But the question of her mind was interrupted at the sound of Anzio making a distressed noise of some sort. When Sofia investigated what had caused it, she realized they'd left the glass elevator shaft and entered the shaft proper, all to be seen now was feet upon feet of the inner workings of the building. Sofia chuckled somewhat, ruffling Anzio's hair a moment before noting a gaze belonging to Z focused upon her.

"Yes?" Sofia questioned. But Z didn't offer a response, instead electing to look away from the woman. Sofia chuckled somewhat as the elevator began to slow somewhat, showing them that they were approaching their floor. When they reached 43, the doors slid open, allowing them on their way. Only to be met by another desk sitting against the wall before them. The woman manning this desk looked up to the six, and upon spying both Liz and the cranes, offered a kind smile as she stood.

"Hello." She greeted. "I figured you'd be early. Unfortunately, we aren't quiet ready to get started." She told them before gesturing to the right. "If you'll go down that hall and take the stairs on the left, you'll reach the observation area set aside for you all while you wait." She told them. Liz nodded, offering a wave to the woman before leading the six of them towards the hallway that'd just been pointed out to them. Making their way down and to the stairs indicated, Sofia bringing up the rear, they eventually came to the waiting room specified.

The room wasn't big by any means, but it could comfortably fit twenty people if it had to. The far wall from the doorway was glass, as Sofia realized approaching it, the waiting room was more of an observation room. Draping her coat and scarf on one of the couches like Liz had done, she approached the window.

"That where they doing the photo shoot?" Sofia questioned, gesturing to the group of people assembled below them. Liz nodded at that.

"Probably getting some last minute adjustments and things done before the Cranes get with them." She reasoned as the two carriers in question stepped up to the glass with them.

"What kind of photo shoot are we doing anyways? I've never done one with the company." Zuikaku said, her gaze watching those below her.

"Probably a swimsuit edition if I had to guess." Liz supplied unhelpfully from her spot at the window. Zuikaku glowered at the woman, electing a small chuckle from Shokaku as she placed a hand on her sister's shoulder.

"You know those photos of Hiryuu-San and Souryuu-San of them out on the open ocean? With the green and orange dragons around them?" She questioned. When Z's eyes lit up at the realization of just what her sister was talking about, and nodded, Shokaku offered a nod of confirmation. "JJ-San was confident in this shoot would result in shots similar to those." She explained.

The look that overcame Z's face was apparently amusing enough to warrant giggling from the two escort carriers in their midst, who currently, were sitting on the couch. Sofia held back laughter of her own at the expression as she made way for the couch the two were seated on, now coming to a seat next to Anzio with Kit on her sister's other side. But upon seeing that the Captain had taken a seat on the couch, she repositioned, quickly making herself at home on Sofia's other side. Sofia watched her a moment before looking back to Liz as she ruffled Anzio's hair.

"So? What exactly is JJ like?" She questioned. Liz paused at the question somewhat, holding a finger to her lips in thought. After a moment, the woman returned her gaze to Sofia as she turned away from the window, the Cranes still watching the photo shoot being set up below them.

"JJ is a very very caring person. Dependable, and in her own words wise, she's the kind of person that you want to be able to get ahold of quickly just in case you need anything. In the almost decade that I've known her, she's never once failed to pick up my phone calls. She-"

Before Liz could continue however, the door to the waiting room opened. The Cranes, Sofia, and Liz turned their attention to the door while the two escort carriers played with Sofia's hands a moment. The door opened to admit a haggard looking woman, but still alert enough to immediately take notice that the room was occupied. Already though, Liz moved for her, and it was then that Sofia got a good look at the woman.

The woman dressed head to toe in white looked fairly young all things considered. She wasn't what one would call tall exactly, standing maybe at only 5'9. She stood over Liz though, given that Liz herself was 5'6 or so. But it wasn't until Liz outstretched her arms for a hug, the woman gladly returning it, did she take off the beanie she'd been wearing. From where Sofia was sitting, she hadn't been able to see it before. But as the beanie came off of her head, that's when it all came free.

The woman before them had Snow White hair.

It might make sense if she was up in her decades or so, but that clearly wasn't the case.

When the two finally separated from the hug, Liz offered the woman a smile.

"I'm honest here." Liz told her. "Wasn't sure you were gonna be in today, JJ." She told her. "Conference in Dallas was cancelled last moment due to Abyssal concerns on the Coast of Texas. So my next week was just shot in the foot. Though, I doubt for long." She admitted as she looked to Liz a moment, a relieved smile on her lips until she looked past Liz to spy the Cranes. "I see you brought friends, Lizzy." JJ laughed somewhat. Liz rolled her eyes at that as she poked her in the stomach.

"You've met Sho." She told her. JJ nodded at that as she extended a hand to the carrier once again, offering a kind smile to the white haired carrier.

"It's good to see you again, JJ-San." Shokaku offered with a smile. JJ returned the gesture.

"The same to you, Shokaku." She said with a smile in equal nature as she turned her gaze to Zuikaku. "And you must be the younger sister." She said. "That's a rhetorical question by the way." She offered in suppliance. But as she was talking to Sho and Z, her eyes half wandered to Sofia, who was still sitting on the couch with the two escort carriers. Sofia caught her gaze somewhat, and the Captain stood up as she made to approach the woman.

JJ seemed to watch her a moment, and in that time, Liz approached the two of them.

"JJ, this is-"

"The Captain." JJ answered for her. "Captain Algerona, no?" She questioned with a hint of a smile. Sofia faltered somewhat at the fact that the woman before her already knew her name, and upon seeing her reaction, JJ's smile widened by fractions. "I've been in touch with your Navy. While not your full file, I do have a report on you and the Admiral." She said. "As well as the original seven. Who, I'm quite sure, these two do not belong to." JJ said as she gestured to the two escort carriers. They in question giggled as JJ offered them a wave, Sofia still watching the woman somewhat.

"Files?" She asked. "I understand Files on the girls, sure, what with the game and what it is? But why the Admiral? Why me?" Sofia questioned, a hand going to her hip. JJ shrugged the question to the side as she looked to the, once again standing full.

"Well, it's not like you're completely uninvolved in the game as the XO." JJ replied. "Even Ishigara is in the game, albeit a minor supporting role." She told her. "Plus, you're already garnering more of a social following today it would seem. Reddit's going crazy." She reasoned. "When I saw the pictures popping up today, I figured something was up." She reasoned. Sofia only huffed as she looked to JJ.

"Then can I ask about the hair?" She asked. "Doing it before was still weird, but dying your hair white now? In this day and age? Surely it's caused some problems." Sofia insisted. JJ shrugged at that, holding a finger up as she checked her phone. Putting it back down a moment after, she looked to Shokaku and Zuikaku. "They're ready downstairs for you." She said. With that, the two carriers nodded their excuse and Shokaku lead the way, Liz following after the two with a wave.

"In a time as interesting as the one we find ourselves in now, standing apart or differently isn't always a bad thing." JJ reasoned. "And honestly, comparing the hair to some of the shit I've done in my life? It's tame. Really tame." She said as she moved her hand from her hip to her pocket, her left hand still free. Sofia only nodded somewhat at that as she returned to her seat as JJ sat across from the woman, crossing her legs as she straightened out the black suit she adorned. "Haven't we all done something others would see as questionable at some point in our lives? Is that not what it means to live?" She asked.

"Okay, okay." Sofia said. "Fair." She reasoned.

JJ only smiled.

—\__/—\__/—
WARNING

I'm putting a warning here for the simple purpose that what sits beyond this line is different from the content of the last 100 chapters. There is violence and it is much so I figured I'd offer a heads up before you guys just dive right into it.
—/—/—/—/—/—/—

January 27th, 2023

150 miles off the coast of Puerto Rico.

2:16 AM

Cargo Freighter Akuze, observing radio silence.

Hard Overcast.

Light rain.

Ocean is varying.

Visibility is none.

Lights out.

Shannon Micheals knew a lot of things about herself over her thirty eight years of life on this earth, knew that there was much that made her tick, and a lot that she didn't know. As she stood at the aft end of the Akuze, she knew this to be fact. In pitch darkness, and all the sky offered in turn was rain and distant flashes of lightning, supported by the rumbling of thunder, in her mind it was a perfect time to find oneself.

The fact that she was in the Bermuda Triangle, in the pitch black of night with only her two flash lights to help her see only cemented this fact.

She secured her flashlight back to her waist before reaching up for the one secured to her chest, turning it on. The beam of light it produced made it's way somewhat out amongst the water before diminishing into the dankness, giving Shannon just the view of the ever present rain, and a few taller waves. She watched a moment before she continued on, her patrol route on that wouldn't take her more than a quarter of the way down the length of the ship before she would be meant to turn around. But here, she was home. Within the Triangle, she felt fine

With both of her parents being Navy vets, she wasn't any stranger to the stories or fables that entranced this part of the world. Missing squadrons, disappearing ships, it had all fascinated her as a child. But now the world knew the stories, the legends around them, they knew they were no longer that.

The world held many secrets below the surface, and Shannon was sure that the Abyssals were only the surface of it.

She wondered which Abyssal, if they were still alive that is, was the reason for the legends surrounding the Triangle.

Shannon didn't know, only that they sailed under their careful watch.

One of the perks of aligning your cause with their own, their mercy was forthcoming.

Suddenly, her radio sparked to life.

"Bravo-3, check in." Came the male voice from the other end. Shannon reached up for her radio a moment, taking another look around a moment before responding.

"Bravo-3, checking in." She replied before her hand dropped from the device. That would suffice for another twenty minutes or so, she knew.

All before she heard something clatter to the ground behind her.

Turning, the woman now faced what had previously been behind her. And on the ground before her, amongst the light rain and distant thunder, was her flashlight. Laying there on the deck, willing her to recollect it. She paused a moment at that, frowning to herself as she reached down for her holster where it had previously been kept. And sure enough, it was no longer there.

Her gaze locked itself to the flashlight, unwilling to look away from it as she brought her hand up to her radio once again, her other hand reached down for her sidearm and unlocking it's holster.

"Check in. Current areas near Aft?" She questioned. It took a few moments, likely at the odd request out of no where, but eventually she began to garner responses.

"Bravo-11. Non Aft."

"Alpha-5. Non Aft."

"Bravo-9. Non Aft."

"Alpha-2. Non Aft."

After she'd gotten the full rundown of both twelve man squads manning the upper decks of the ship, Charlie, Delta, and Echo squads no doubt asleep at this hour, she frowned somewhat at that as her fingers kissed the handle of her sidearm before she shelved that idea, once again securing the holster of her sidearm as her right arm reached down for the handle of the Mp5 at her side.

"Bravo-3, Bravo-1" A man's voice came over the comms. "Something we should worry about over there?" He questioned. Shannon briefly paused at the question a moment before replying.

"Negative at moment." She replied. "Recruits still below decks?" She questioned.

"Affirmative." Bravo-1 confirmed. Shannon frowned further at that confirmation as her eyes glued themselves to the flashlight that still sat on the floor, as if she'd just dropped it there. With her flashlight being the only source of visible light anywhere around her, it made things so much worse. But being in the Army for 16 years hadn't left her without her own fair share of nerves. She steeled herself as her hand dropped from her radio as both hands met her submachine gun.

She cleared the space between her and the dropped item with no issue and in short time. But as she did so, as she bent down to pick it up, the flashlight flickered to life. Normally, it'd be something to ignore, something to push to the side. But as it illuminated the nearby wall, she immediately took notice of the fact that one of the doors was propped open. She paused somewhat, recollecting the flashlight for a moment as she switched it off. Holstering it a moment, she waved her Mp5 towards the direction of the door, watching for any sign of movement. When no movement barring the gentle rocking of the ship as it took another wave occurred to her, Shannon began to inch forwards towards the propped open door.

As she grew closer, as she approached it further and further, she could just start to make something out beyond the window in the door. Within the room, something caught the light just right, and reflected it back to her. She aim snapped to the window in a moment when it moved, only to realize that it was moving with the ship.

And with good reason.

As she pulled the door out further and further, getting an actual look into the room, she found herself surprised somewhat.

Chains. Dozens upon dozens of chains. There was at least a hundred, two hundred single line chains hanging from the roof. Shannon paused somewhat before raising her Mp5 before her, the gun at the ready.

These chains hadn't been here the morning before.

Shannon ever so slowly pushed into the room, already bumping into some of the chains. They rattled in an ominous way with the contact, more and more setting off as she pushed in. As for Shannon herself, she was trying to figure out if this was some sort of practical joke left for them by another team. Likely Echo team if she had to guess. Those idiots could handle a gun, but only just barely. So this felt very much like something up their alley.

But the chains unnerved her, if only slightly. Every time she moved through new chains, or bumped past ones, they'd rattle endlessly, even after she'd moved past them into a new section of the apparent chain curtain. But as she moved further into the room, the rattling began to settle into an even pattern. At first, Shannon figured it was just the motion of the ship moving them or stirring them. But after a minute, Shannon realized something.

The chains were now rattling as one entire entity, their motions very much resembling that of breathing.

She reached up for one of the chains.

And tugged.

The rattling died away immediately as her hand remained holding the chain. And then, slowly, the chains began to retract into the ceiling. Not being able to see with the flashlight near her shoulder, she reached for the flashlight at her waist, flicking it on and pointing it towards the ceiling of the room. Immediately, she saw where the chains were retracting into, two ceiling tiles of the room had been moved apparently. She briefly paused somewhat at that before looking around the room for something she could use to get up for a better look. And when she found a step stool she could use, she figured that her luck was coming around.

Stationing it just below the hole in the ceiling, Shannon began ascending the three steps of the stool before looking up to the hole in the ceiling once again.

And she brought her flashlight up.

The sound of bones cracking and popping into place was her last sign that something was wrong before the chains surged at her as one, wrapping around her neck, shoulders, waist and arms as they hefted her as one into the hole in the ceiling, her screams muffled as they muffled her as they dragged her into the ceiling as one.

And then things went quiet.

Aside from the now ever slowly drops of blood that landed on the top step of the stool.

2:33 AM.

"Bravo-3, report." Came over their radios yet again in the last thirty seconds. And as it had been for the last five minutes, there had been no answer. He rolled his eyes at that, shaking his head as he glanced over to his companion, the man laughing more to himself than anyone else.

"Probably off in a corner fucking herself again." Nicholas, or Alpha-4 reasoned to the man next to him. Jackie, or Bravo-7, laughed at that, coughing into his arm to diminish the sounds of it. The two men laughed somewhat a moment longer before their radios sprang to life, the two of them quieting down immediately.

"Alpha 4, Bravo 7. Figure out what the fuck Bravo-3 is up to and report back." Came the over domineering tone of the woman they knew as Bravo-1. The two of them processed the command a moment before they both huffed. Most people when they got out of the military somewhat relaxed, at least a little bit. But the fucking Princess had only gotten worse, if what Bravo-2 had to say was true, given she'd served under her. The two men huffed before Bravo-7 got down from his crate as they began to make way for the aft of the ship.

"On our way." Nick replied over the radio before letting his hand drop to his side. "Fuckin hell. Why the fuck ain't Charlie team up and about? This is supposed to be a three team watch." He cursed. Jackie shrugged at that as he fished his flashlight from his belt, flipping it on as they made their way down the stairs, onto the main deck. They passed various members of the two teams on their own patrols as they made way for the aft of the ship.

"Hey, it could've been them out here. But Alpha Fuckin One decided we needed another two weeks of night watch." Jackie offered in rebuttal. Nick only rolled his eyes at that as he followed the man, shaking his head as he did so.

"Fuckin tell me about it." Nick reasoned as the two of them made way down the side of the ship. "Fuck, there was at least eight or nine people. Why it'd have to be fuckin us to go find the fuckin old gun? This is such utter bullshit." He spat as he pulled his weapon to the forefront. "Might as well put a bullet in her fucking head anyways if she's gonna go radio silent like this. Fuckin bitch." He droned. Jackie mindlessly nodded at that, knowing better than to try and engage with the man in discussion. The last person that had had gotten a bullet for their troubles.

Sometimes, he wondered why they allowed dishonorable discharged into their ranks.

At this point, all he wanted was sleep. No one was gonna come looking for them. Who? Puerto Rico? Cuba? Haiti?

Island Nations like Japan and Britain were the exception to the rule in the sense that most non heavily armed Island nations had long ago gone quiet. Sure, they'd gotten their fair share of refugees from those places at the start of this war. But now, there was no contact with them. Nothing to show that anyone was alive within their borders.

Nick and Jack continued their way down the length of the ship until they reached where Bravo-3's last known location was meant to be. Jack took a moment to look around, his light moving back and forth over the deck as Nick began to do the same, the two searching for any sign of the woman in question. But as Nick rounded the corner before the two of them, he stopped abruptly, Jackie colliding with him somewhat.

"Nick?" Jackie questioned as he glanced up to the man. But the man in turn didn't look back, didn't bother with a response as his attention was held at the forefront before them. It took Jackie a solid moment to catch on, but eventually, his gaze found it's way there. And he found himself questioning.

The river of blood running from the side of the deck to one of the closest doors. Jackie immediately took notice of the way Nick's hand went for his gun, pulling it from the holster as he flipped the safety off in one fell swoop. The guy might be a psychopath, but Jackie knew, the man knew his way around a gun. He watched as he now held the flashlight in one hand with the pistol resting on his wrist. "Open the door, Jack." He ordered. And for once, there was no hesitation as Jackie hefted the door open.

Removing the way of the door allowed the stream of blood to renew itself towards the side of the ship.

Carefully, Nick stepped through the doorway, Jackie doing the same as he himself pulled his pistol. But the room itself was all but empty, aside from one simple step stool in the middle of the space, all but splattered with blood. Nick gave the item a wide berth, but he still casted his gaze and the light to the roof where it looked like the blood was coming from. He walked a little ways into the room, around the stool as Jackie walked in after him, trying to get a better look at the hole in the ceiling. His flashlight illuminated what he could see into the hole in the ceiling, the light causing the blood to shine with a slickness to it. At that, Nick reached for his radio, gesturing for Jackie to keep his light on it as he holstered his. When Jackie did so, Nick kept his gun trained on the hole as he spoke into his radio.

"Alpha One, Bravo One, this is Alpha Four. Bravo Three's no where in sight and we've got blood leaking from the ceiling in here." He reported. It took a few moments for the response to come back through, Nick glancing up back at the ceiling a moment as Jackie kept the light trained on the ceiling. And a moment later, their response came back.

"Roger that Alpha-4." Came the reply. "Sit tight and we'll get over that way." Bravo-2 replied. Nick rolled his eyes at that before shaking his head, looking to Jackie.

"Toss me a flashbang." He ordered. Jackie looked up at him incredulously.

"W-what? Nic-"

"I don't need bullshit logic and all that. Just give me a fucking flashbang. If this is Bravo-3 playing a prank, she's gonna fucking pay for it." He muttered. Jackie didn't hesitate, didn't try to argue with them. Unhooking the sought after item from his belt, he tossed it to the man, who only offered a grin as he glanced back to the ceiling above him. Pulling the pin, he aimed and chucked it towards the hole in the ceiling.

Just as the ceiling tile was moved back into place.

Both Nick and Jack's expressions of mixed emotions turned to dread as they watched the flashbang bounce off the ceiling and clatter to the floor. The two of them didn't have the slightest of chances to move in time before it went off.

And suddenly, all they knew was noise and light.

If Nick was shouting anything, likely curses and expletives that Jackie had only seen used in online forums and the like, he couldn't tell. A headache was already making itself known to him as he continued to recoil. He moved for the door, or at least where he thought it was. And when he felt rain hitting his skin, he realized he must of made it outside.

Eventually, his senses began to correct, began to right themselves ever so slightly. And in that brief slight, he heard his radio crackling to life. He drunkenly reached for it, it taking a few tries before his sense finally allowed complete contact with. He keyed in, but his hearing wasn't there. It was all distant noise, all background thoughts while his hearing tried to settle from the assault they'd just undergone. "W-what? Repeat last?" He called. "What was that?"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON OVER THERE, Bravo Seven!?" Came over the radio. Jackie paused, trying to realize what was being said as his head screamed at him. After a moment, he shook his head as he made to answer.

"Alpha Four utilized a flashbang. Backfired." He replied.

"And where the fuck is Alpha Four?" They demanded. Jackie winced again at the sound before replied.

"Gonna find out." He told them before he cut the connection. He was gonna catch serious shit for that for sure, but his head didn't care. Pushing himself off of the ground a moment, letting the rain try to relax his head a second, he flipped on the shoulder flashlight as he turned back towards the room. Ignoring the blood for the time being, his mind was focused on finding Nick. But when he came to a stop in the doorway, his flashlight illuminating the room before him, he stopped mid step.

There was Nick.

In the middle of the room.

Hanging from the ceiling, what looked to be a chain wrapped around his neck.

Jackie stood frozen to the spot a moment, so much so that when more and more chains began to emerge from the ceiling above Nick, the man didn't even flinch. He watched as they snaked over the now lifeless body, snaked around and about, as if they were looking him over. Jackie didn't know what to expect, what to think as he watched. They were moving over the man with precision, for whatever reason.

But then, one of the chains, it's end stopped right over the man's heart.

It hesitated.

And then it burrowed straight through him.

Nick's unconscious body turned lifeless as the chain ripped through the vest on the other side as more and more of them began to dig into the man. Blood splattered the floor as Jackie watched in mute horror, all before the man was dragged up into the ceiling in a flash. Jackie watched in a mute horror, even as his stomach threatened to revolt. But before he could do anything, before he could react, there was a loud thud in the ceiling above him, all before a body came crashing down out of the space. Jackie recoiled somewhat as more blood splattered the ground, the figure tipping the stool over as it crashed to the ground.

Even before Jackie reached for his radio in his frazzled state, even before his mind began to collect on what was going on, he watched as the body laid there, one arm twisted up in the stool as it laid there. And then, by the light of his flashlight, more of the chains began to extend from the ceiling, down towards the body.

And then they seemed to take notice of Jackie standing there.

Jackie ran for it.

2:42 AM.

Bravo One, or Judy as most of the people on the ship called her, was in a sour mood.

Bravo Three was fucking MIA. And Alpha Four and Bravo Seven were sitting around in a circle together jacking each other off and singing the fuckin Barney theme. She sighed roughly, slipping a cigarette from her pocket and sticking it in her mouth before lighting it, taking a drag of the thing before pulling it from her lips.

"Can't say this enough, and I swear by my life, don't fuckin smoke." Was said from the side. Judy casted a long glance at the woman to her side, one most people knew as Bee. Didn't like telling people her real name, and Judy had never given that much of a shit to ask.

"Fuck off." Judy remarked, shaking the cig somewhat. "Thought i got past that shit when the old lady died. What? You fucking gonna take up her spot?" She demanded, narrowing her eyes. Bee only rolled her eyes as she put her hands up in surrender as she turned away from the woman a moment, leaning against the railing somewhat as she listened to the waves roll by. "You want one?" She questioned.

"Fuck no, I don't want one." Bee spat. "What? You think I tell you not to smoke just to be the bigger person and then turn right around and pull a long one? Fuck off dude." She said without turning her head. Judy shrugged her shoulders at that as she went for another drag of the cig, crossing her other arm under her first a moment before shaking her head, pulling the cig from her mouth as smoke slipped between her lips.

"Figured I'd ask." Judy replied. Bee rolled her eyes.

"Go ask Alpha One. Or are you finally done fucking him?" Bee questioned. Judy shrugged at that as she flicked the cig somewhat before placing it back between her lips.

"You know you can join too. He wouldn't mind, I'm-"

"Stooooooop." Bee bemoaned. "I don't need to think about you naked and I don't need him coming anywhere near me. What was he in prison for? Murder, right?" She asked. Judy shrugged at that as she looked to the woman.

"That among other things." Judy reasoned all before her radio sparked to life, the sound of man in question coming through from the other end.

"Bravo One, Alpha One. We heard anything from the knuckleheads yet?" He questioned. His voice told her that he was missing the amusement of their current situation. Judy clicked her tongue in annoyance as she pulled the cig from her lips with her left hand as her right hand went for her radio.

"Negative." She said. "I don't know-"

"Who the fuck are you?!" Alpha One cut her off, the surprise in his voice clear and evident. Judy paused at that sudden outburst a moment, her glancing landing on Bee a moment before glancing in the direction of the bridge for her answers

"Alpha One?" She called.

"Stay the fuck back!" He screeched as what sounded like gunshots rang out in the background. "What the fuck-"

The line went dead.

"Alpha One? You read me?" Judy tried again. But when there was no answer, nothing to respond to, she casted her gaze to the bridge nestled at the aft section of the ship. Just as the lights on the bridge came on, illuminating the room within.

Judy and Bee could only watched as the windows were suddenly slathered with red from the inside.

Bee nearly choked on her breath at the sight as Judy's eyes went wide for a moment before she reached for her radio again. "Charlie One! Charlie one, fuckin respond!" She demanded. Just as the deck lights began to flip on, one by one, from aft to bow. Judy watched them a moment, trying to figure out what to do as she felt the thrum of the engines below her shut off. Judy cursed her luck just as who sounded to be Charlie One sounded off from her radio.

"Charlie One." He confirmed. "Yeah?"

"Get your team up and moving fucking yesterday!" Judy yelled as the lights further began to come on as gunshots echoed from within the bridge, all before the glass broke out, with someone following in on the way out. Their screams cut short with a solid thud as another one followed them on the way out. "DO IT FUCKING NOW!" She screamed.

"The fuck is going on!?" Bee demanded as she watched as yet a third person was tossed from the bridge, the same sickening splat sounding through the air against the waves of the ocean. Judy prepared to answer her in full honesty, an answer which would've comprised exactly of she had no fucking idea. But that was cut short as her vision caught sight of Bravo Seven running in their direction from the aft section of the ship, looking adequately panicked.

And for good reason too.

Behind him, the two women could see what looked to be three elongated snakes. But when the light above them finally flipped on, Judy realized they weren't snakes, but chains. Pulling her weapon, Bee doing the same, they watched as Jackie ran for the presumable safety of them. And to be fair, Judy had more than few questions.

But it wasn't to be.

Judy knew that straight away as she watched another, a fourth chain hit Jackie from the side, the thing burrowing through the man's skull and brain in a matter of seconds. The man went limp in the thing's hold, enough time for the three to catch up, each one burrowing their way through the man's chest, blood splattering the deck.

"What the fuck!?" Bee screeched as she immediately drew her weapon to her front. But any sort of shooting that would have happened was brought to a stop by Judy as she put an immediate hand up, holding it over her lips. As gunshots rang out on other parts of the ship, Judy pushed them low as someone screamed out.

"We can't fight whatever the fuck this is. We need to get to the bridge." She told her. "Hopefully, there's a source we can actually hit and take out." She told her. Bee nodded at that in understanding, lowering her weapon somewhat as Judy made way back towards the bow of the ship, intending to round back around it and go down the other side. Would it be enough? Would they even be able to? Judy didn't know, but she did know that-

Bee pulled the woman to the ground as one of the supposed chains came tearing around the corner before them, chasing after another of their forces, only for them to watch as a second chain met him halfway along, cutting through him effortlessly. Blood splattered the ground as the man's torso simply fell off of him, his legs falling suit. He crashed down only a few feet from the two of them, so much so that Bee began to frantically drag Judy back the way they came as the man's remains were dragged away by the chains responsible. But immediately, the floor below them began to be split apart as chains began to burrow through the deck below them. Immediately, the two of them were moving like bats out of hell.

Judy all but jumped down the stairs leading from the bow of the ship, Bee hot on her tail as more and more chains began to snake after them.

But as Bee was coming down the stairs, the woman tripped, meeting the deck hard. The look of recognition in her eyes only flashed momentarily, enough so that Judy was able to recognize it as well before the first chain reached the woman, almost arcing into the air somewhat before coming down into her mid back. The sickening snap of her spinal cord being severed in two at a moment's notice was one that Judy would never forget, especially when they were followed by the woman's screaming.

But that only lasted a moment longer before her screaming was quelled as another of the chains sliced through her throat. But Judy didn't spare it any time, didn't spare it any thoughts as she turned and ran for the aft section of the ship.

Only for the woman to stop in her tracks as a pain shot through her lower body. Shaking slightly, the woman glanced down at herself, only to find one of the chains protruding from her stomach, blood seeping down her front. Immediately, she began to wobble as the bloodloss began to mount. Wearily, she reached for the chain protruding from her stomach, wrapping a weak hand around it as blood began to drip from her mouth before flowing more and more, her vision going dark.

Just as she looked up to find one lunging at her face.

There was a snap.

And then nothing.

2:51 AM

He slid the magazine into the Mp5 without issue as he yawned, stepping out of his room into the corridor. Finding other members of his team idly scattered about, standing around a moment, he reached for his radio again. "Bravo One, come in. Status check?" He asked again in the last five minutes. When static was all he got in response, he tried again. "Bravo One. Check in?" He tried. When the woman on the other end refused to answer in return, the man clicked his tongue in annoyance as his hand released his radio. "Fuckin bitch." He huffed.

"Cat got your tongue, Charlie One?" The man known as Delta One questioned. Drake, or Charlie One, only rolled his eyes in turn at that as he looked to the man.

"Mouth shut, you fucker." He snapped. "I don't know what the fuck Bravo One is fuckin smoking these days, but if this is just something that Alpha pushed down onto her because he was fucking lazy, I'm gonna shoot someone. Preferably Bravo One." He said with venom in his voice. "Is your team up and moving?" He asked.

Delta One nodded. "Last checks right now. We waking up Echo?" He asked. Drake shrugged at the question.

"Don't know. Don't care." He said as he reached for his radio. "Charlie eight through twelve, make way for the hold. Keep the recruits secure. We're going topside to check what's up." He said. He got returns of affirmatives as he nodded as he and Delta One turned towards the stairs up to the upper decks, their two collective squads falling in behind them.

Just as the lights above them flickered, briefly diving the corridor into darkness before they kicked back on. Drake paused momentarily at that, glancing up at the light directly above his head a moment before shrugging, and continuing on. Some of the other members of the teams glanced up at the same, or different lights as they made their way behind Charlie One and Delta, but no one paid it much thought.

Nor did they pay it any thought when they came across Bravo Three standing before the stairs, her side to them, looking to be staring blankly into the wall before her. The woman seemed to shudder slightly, ever so often somewhat, her body would relax momentarily, and then the process would repeat. Charlie One thought it a little odd sure, but he figured her here to give them an update of what was going on, or what was about to happen. He rolled his eyes somewhat, cracking his neck as he approached her, his hands at his sides.

"Yo, Shannon, the fuck's going on up there?" He called. His voice seemed to spark her attention back to life as she began to turn to look at him. "Bravo One ain't responding and I've got a bone to- WHAT THE FUCK!"

Shannon had fully turned to the man, and in turn stopped both squads in their tracks. The day before, sure, Shannon would've been a welcome sight, being one of the more friendlier faces of Bravo squad. But as she stared them down, the front of her clothes basked in blood, it was an unwelcome sight. Especially when Charlie One realized that half of the woman's jaw was simply gone. Shannon made a small clicking noise, her teeth- or what was left of them- chattering together in rapid fashion, giving the impression to something non-human.

Immediately, Charlie and Delta's weapons came up as the two fanned out up and down the hallway, pressing themselves to walls and inside rooms as they all focused their sights on Shannon.

The woman twitched somewhat more before leaning forward with and ear shattering scream, blood and bits of flesh sprinkling the floor before her as she seemed to regard them with distaste. Just before three Chains burst from her mouth and throat.

"Fuck this! Open fire!" Drake demanded. And both Squads did just that, at least eighteen guns opening up on the woman.

The resulting commotion was nearly deafening in the small, compact hallway they found themselves in. But their rifles barked their displeasure with what their owners found before them as rounds flew through the air and all but turned Shannon to Swiss cheese, the chains extending from her person seeming to be twitching in agony, all but lunging for the men and women.

But they didn't get far.

As the hail of gunfire came to an end, Shannon's now bullet riddled body collapsed to the ground, the chains seeming to shrink away before growing still. Charlie One's gaze didn't leave the body, even as he ejected the mag in his gun and loaded fresh one, his reflexes and muscle memory carrying him through the motions.

"The shit was that?" Delta One swore. "The fuck is going on up there?" He demanded as he himself loaded a fresh mag into his gun. Charlie One didn't acknowledge the question, didn't answer it in the slightest. His attention was still focused on the now still corpse of Bravo Three, and the seemingly bow lifeless chains that protruded from the woman. She was almost..

"That bitch was a fuckin Zombie and there ain't no two shits about it." One of the men behind them, he assumed Delta Squad squawked off. "That bitch was a chatterin and a tweaking harder than a meth head back home. The fuck she doing out here, coming up on us like that?" He questioned. He heard mutterings of both insanity and agreement behind him, but he paid them no actual mind.

"Get Echo off their fuckin asses." He ordered. "Charlie Two." He called.

"Sir?" The indicated squad mate replied. A young thing, he knew, she only twenty two-twenty three. Followed her brothers into their cause and she'd wound up here of all places. They were the only family she had left, didn't leave her much choice. But as he glanced back to her, gave her a once over, he was surprised she was still standing upright. It was slight, but she was shaking, clearly far out of her element. He pushed that piece of info down and away as he jerked his head towards the body on the floor.

"Make sure she'd dead. And if not, put her down." He said as he stood. She seemed to pause in a hesitant way at that before nodding, readying her gun as she moved past him. But he couldn't unsee it, the trembling. Made him wish this would just end, that they'd take the day. But he knew it wasn't that simple, that there were many fights yet to come. But again, he pushed that away as he watched Charlie Two push towards the downed Bravo Three. And as she approached the Chains, he awaited with baited breath.

Only for nothing to happen when she nudged one with her foot.

Charlie Two relaxed somewhat as she approached the body proper.

Just as the ship rattled beneath them.

Behind them, something popped. Both Charlie and Delta One glanced back to find the first light in the corridor had suddenly exploded.

And then the second.

And the third.

They watched as one by one, the corridor was engulfed in darkness in showers of sparks and broken glass. Charlie One readied his weapon as others did the same as the first of the lights overhead busted, prompting them to look away as to avoid glass in the eyes. But as Darkness overtook them, still heading towards Charlie Two, another rattling began to sound off, this time sounding like something was moving the ceiling above them. Thuds and sudden shakes were sounding off like fireworks on the Fourth of July, they loud and all to easy to hear.

But the light above Charlie Two didn't bust.

But the thudding continued, so much so that no one dared move a muscle.

And then the light over Charlie Two flickered off.

And flickered on.

Just as the thudding stopped overhead of the woman.

Charlie Two gave the man a panicked glance.

Just as the light flickered off.

Darkness encompassed all just as a rush of cold air blew over him. He involuntarily shivered at the feeling as his hands seemed to clam up.

And then the lights flickered back on.

Charlie One had to backpedal as he suddenly came face to face with what looked to be a Halloween decoration, stone still and radiating the cold. But upon further inspection of the... thing, Halloween decoration became more and more apt as Charlie One began to take notice of the scraps of flesh and pieces of muscle and tendon strewn about here and there all along it's form. It didn't even twitch, didn't seem to react to their presence.

And then one of the dumb fucks behind them pulled the trigger faster than Charlie One could've stopped.

The rounds bounced and ricocheted off of torn pieces of flesh and flew past bone, but the entire being twitched. The sound of bone cracking and flaking off filled their ears as the creature before them seemed to stir to life, chains snapping from within it's bones as it surged to life, bending forwards somewhat as it screamed at them, nearly deafening from the point blank stance it held with them.

Charlie Two panicked as the Hatch between her and them suddenly slammed shut, cutting their vision off from the woman and trapping her with the thing.

Charlie One immediately surged forwards to try and get the door open, but it locked in place faster than he knew, leaving the two squads in tots darkness. Only for a moment however as one by one, flashlights began to come on in rapid fire motion, both on rifles and chests alike. Drake racked his brain for something to go off of, some sort of plan to ride on as what sounded like... clawing began to sound through the narrow corridor.

Coming from the hatch.

Charlie Two's screams echoed through the ship just as the first chain dug it's way through the door.

Charlie One realized it first and simply turned and shoved past the squads as another and another chain popped free off the door as more and more began to dig through it.

He didn't see the chain make contact.

But he heard the thing shred the flesh of Delta One as the shooting began behind him.

Two of the chains pinned Delta One against the wall as more chains, already inside of the wall he found himself pinned against sprung free, tearing through his legs and torso as the man yelled in pain, only for another chain to burst through the back of his throat as it made a bee line for the next source, which in turn ended up being Charlie Three.

The chain ripped through the man's right knee, bringing him to the ground before another chain sprung from the wall and shot for the man's skull, splintering it into pieces before burrowing into the ground behind him, smashing the back of the man's head into the metal floor, blood pooling there as more chains began to emerge from the walls and hatch, descending on the men and women of Charlie and Delta squads.

The Gunfire continued on uninterrupted as a few brave souls stood their ground and tried to fight back against the now unrelenting assault of the chains. But a large majority of the two squad group had turned tail and immediately run for safety elsewhere on the ship, or at least put distance between them and the continually emerging chains apparently intent on killing them all. And as amongst the darkness, Delta Six was impaled to the wall, that future seemed all too inevitable.

Delta Eight readied her rifle as she pushed up against the ever present Chain threat, more than ready to gun one down. But as a chain dropped from the ceiling, looking as if it was readying itself to take her down, Delta Eight was hit from the side as two chains ripped through her side, curling around her ribs somewhat before pulling back out, taking the bones with them.

Delta Eleven and Twelve only watched this and made to move, Eleven turning and making a run for it. Twelve however had no thoughts of that, no thoughts of anything. He'd picked this assignment for the ease of it.

He died as two chains tore through his lungs to get at Eleven, dragging the man back through Eleven before a chain ripped through Twelve's heart, killing him there.

Charlie One listened to the gunfire and screaming echo behind him, the man already maneuvering the corridors to get up to the top deck and make the trek around to get back to Charlie Two. He hefted his gun in his hands as he continued to check corners and clear corridors with practiced precision. In his mind, if those chains learned where he was, he was right and proper fucked. No way getting around that. What he needed to do was find the... thing that he now knew was on the ship.

Whatever the fuck it was.

Turning around another corner, there he found another set of stairs that would take him up to the top deck. So carefully, and quietly, he took his chance as gunfire continued to echo behind him, the screams of his and Delta squads becoming quieter and quieter, the gunfire dying down.

That gave him a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He stepped onto the top deck, out into the now pouring rain. The ship had long ago ceased movement with the monster having killed whoever was up in the bridge, and something told him that approaching it was an awful idea. But the thought was pushed from his mind almost immediately as he focused on what was now directly in front of him.

Bravo Two.

Or what was left of her.

The only reason that he knew that it was her, or at least used to be her was a majority of the woman's face was in tact, her eyes open in a shocked expression. But her expression seemed to be frozen in time and for good reason. There was almost none of her left in terms of flesh, or muscle, or even internal organs. Lungs. Kidneys. Part of her heart. Charlie One steeled himself as his boots met the rather large puddle of blood in a soft splashing motion. He was prepared to take another step closer, but motion caught his attention as a chain began to snake out from behind the body, curling along Bravo Two's ribs as it went about it's business.

The fuck was this thing doing? Feeding?

He watched as the chain made it's way for the flesh of her neck that hadn't been taken, hadn't been ripped away and latched on. And before his very eyes, the chain began to breakdown? It began to breakdown the flesh there, apparently absorbing it. In seconds, it had already cleared a small patch of the woman's skin, to the point that Charlie One no longer needed to see anything to confirm.

That's exactly what this thing was doing.

It was feeding on them.

Suddenly Charlie One's childhood love of all things horror was working against him in ways he wished weren't there.

Carefully stepped over and around the chain, he watched for any others as he quietly moved down the length of the ship, intending to make it down to where Charlie Two had been when they'd been separated. Pausing as two chains dragged a body more towards the middle of the ship, Charlie One identifying the body as that of Bravo One, he grimaced somewhat as he moved on, stepping over and through puddles of blood amongst the pouring rain. The rain was doing a good job of washing away most of it, but the scraps of flesh and bone from who he assumed had been Bravo and Alpha team equaled the difference.

Eventually though, he arrived at the stairs he needed. Flipping both flashlights on as he peered down the stairs, he was met with some of the stairs appearing to have red handprints on them, as if they were pulled away deeper into the ship. He waved his gun over them once, the light reflecting off the blood for a moment before he slowly continued his descent. The gunfire, the screaming, the distant rattling of chains was all but quiet. His footsteps, his breathing, it was all so loud against the silence. Only the creaking and groans of the ship moving alongside the waves offered any other noise, well aside from what sounded to be water at the bottom of the stairs.

Pointing his rifle in that direction, his flashlight immediately came across red, red, and more red. Watching it a moment, watching as the blood at the bottom of the stairs rippled with unseen movement, Charlie One carefully stepped down the stairs, one at a time.

As he dropped below the ceiling in height, something immediately caught his attention. Raising his rifle, he pushed his rising dinner back down.

In the middle of the room was Charlie Two, hanging from the ceiling by chains. But he found himself amazed that he'd even recognized her with what she was now, essentially reduced to scraps of flesh, bone, and blood. The stuff dripped from her body as the chains impaled through her back and hanging through her carried it to the floor, leaving the woman hanging there like nothing more than a piece of meat.

And the chains were making short work of what was left of the woman.

And the skeleton laying in the pool of blood at his feet told Charlie One that they'd already made short work of Bravo Three.

A rattle of chains behind him spent the man spinning, his weapon at the ready as he took aim.

And there, he found the... thing, standing there, watching him a moment. He readied his weapon, but when the thought of opening fire crossed his mind, he hesitated.

Because that had ended so well for the rest of them.

He watched it a moment, the monster that had torn through all four squads so far, but based on the fact that Echo Squad hadn't come searching or hunting for them, it'd probably found them as well. He lowered his weapon somewhat as his flashlight stayed trained on the thing, it's bones and scraps of flesh still ever present.

And then all at once, it stopped being just that.

All over it's form, the scraps of flesh began to ever so slightly expand, covering more and more, the chains around the room seeming to rattle with an excitement that only it knew.

He wasn't sure of what to make of it.

He wasn't sure to call it.

And then it happened.

It's eye sockets.

Or where they should've been.

He watched as the right one suddenly produced a black haze.

Charlie One froze.

This thing was an Abyssal.

That didn't make sense. None of it made sense.

This wasn't how this was supposed to go.

They were on the same side!

Everything that they did was for them!

Charlie One let out a click of the tongue in annoyance as he pulled his gun up once again, and immediately let loose as he opened fire.

Only to begin the slow process of choking to death as the thing's hand clamped around his neck, crushing the man's windpipe.

3:05 AM

He stood overlooking the lot of them, standing there on the upper platform in the cargo bay. Over a hundred people, from eighteen to sixty, all backgrounds and genders. 'Recruited' for their cause, for their beliefs. Together, they would bring the system down and together, they would pave the way for the new rule, for the new era. One where Humanity finally would know it's place in this world, put in it's place by those higher than it.

Jeremiah sipped from the bottle of water at his side, rubbing his throat somewhat. Raw didn't being to describe it, and the former pastor's voice was already shot to begin with. But preaching what you believe in was a cause worth anything, especially when it would have a payout they paid dividends in the end of everything.

"Sometimes, I think we should just raid the Vatican for our personnel if Father J's anything to go by." One of the four members of Charlie Squad offered, Charlie Nine. The man in question only chuckled somewhat at the mere idea of it, shaking his head somewhat as he looked to the man.

"I don't think that would go very well for any of us." Jeremiah supplied. "'Sides, don't want too much attention on us now. Wouldn't serve our goals or ambitions very well at all." He told them as he put the bottle on the ground next to him a moment as he turned to look back over the crowd, his hands finding their ways to the railing before him, as he made to greet the people yet again.

But as he opened his mouth to start yet another speech to those that had so willingly followed them into the fire, he paused as knocking sounded at the door behind him, Jeremiah taking one hand off of the railing as he turned to look back at the door, where now the gentle knocking that had been sounding before hand was now a solid hammering against the door. Jeremiah watched it a moment before looking to Charlie Nine, who went for his radio.

"Charlie One, come in." He said, waiting a few seconds for a response. "Charlie One, respond." He tried again as his other weapon inched for the weapon at his side as the other three squad-mates did the same. Charlie Eleven gradually moved towards the door as the knocking continued, the other side of the door being hammered on by something.

And then it finally happened.

The knocking, the hammering of the door came to a stop in exchange for what sounded to be a slight, almost inaudible scratching. Charlie Eleven held his rifle at the ready, just waiting for the door to finally open.

Only for what looked to be a chain shoot through the solid metal of it instead.

The Man was dead in only a moment's notice, the chain shooting for and through the man's head before catching and dragging his body over and off of the railing, dropping him into the crowd below as more and more chains emerged and wiggled through the door. Immediately, one snapped for Charlie Nine, wrapping around her waist and tossing her into the air before another of them came barreling down on her, simply slicing the woman in half. Charlie Ten and Twelve simply died where they stood, one chain burrowing through Ten's heart as another simply relieved Twelve of her head.

Jeremiah only stared at the four a moment before looking back to the door, watching as the chains began to curl in on themselves, now digging away at the door.

It wasn't long before the door began to come down, one side of it eventually falling into the corridor, sending a loud bang ringing through the ship. Jeremiah watched only a moment before he registered footsteps echoing along the dark corridor before him. He paused, hesitated somewhat before reaching to his side and drawing his pistol. Immediately, he pointed it down the hallway before him as he waited for whoever or whatever it was to show itself. But for a moment, all he got were chains as more and more came slithering across the floor, moving across the ground like a snake. But they never seemed to end, and as more began to come snaking along the walls and across the ceiling, all of them snaking past him towards the now fresh corpses. Jeremiah only snuck glances at them as he focused on the darkness of the corridor, the ever so faint footsteps still approaching.

He held the pistol still, waving it back and forth before the encroaching darkness, as if he was waiting for itself to present it to him directly. Instead however, he was presented with something far more physical in nature.

It was faint, so easily missable, that he almost overlooked it. But standing there, just inside of the darkness's embrace, was someone. Who or what, he couldn't tell. But they were there. Raising his pistol against them in a show of force, he raised his voice as he rested the gun in both hands. "Come out! I can see you! There's nothing-"

It's eye flipped open.

Suddenly, the darkness meant nothing as his attention was grabbed by the singular scarlet red eye staring him down.

Jeremiah froze monetarily.

Once again, the footsteps continued as the owner of the eye approached, it's one singular eye locked onto the man with the utmost attention, the chains still coming as they moved past him without a care in the world.

As it stepped into the light, as it's face came into view, Jeremiah recognized it almost immediately.

The eye haze.

The black haze.

This was an Abyssal.

His voice was lost within him as his hold on his pistol weakened somewhat as she continued to walk towards him without a worry in the world, as if she knew there was no danger. But as he looked away from her face, as his eyes traveled her body, he suddenly had a bad feeling slink down his spine in a rapid fire fashion.

For one, half of her face was simply skeleton or muscle. Comparing it to the rest of her, comparing her figure, she was incomplete. Amongst the pockets of flesh spread across her body, she was just muscle and bone. But as he watched her continue to walk for him, he watched as part of her shoulder was gradually covered once again by skin.

But then he recognized that she was carrying something with her.

He recognized it almost immediately as a person.

Or what used to be a person.

As she stepped fully into the light, the body she'd been dragging by their neck dropped to the floor, the chains connected to them snapping free, drops of blood and bits of flesh flying free as the chains seemed to hang from her arm. And then he watched as the six or seven or so seemed to retreat within her.

He shuddered as his grip on the pistol strengthened again as he leveled it at her.

Only for a few of the chains to reach up for his arms, wrapping themselves slowly around his wrists and arms as she reached him. Placing a half skinned, half skeleton hand on the gun, she casually pulled at it until his hands were forced to let go of the item, effectively disarming him. But she tugged a few too many times.

One of the tugs loosened his grip on the handgun, the weapon snatched by another chain as he found himself stumbling towards her.

His heart pounded against his chest as he all but collided with her, one of his hands unwillingly interlocking it's fingers with hers, freezing and blood coated bone meshing against flesh.

He couldn't help but stare up at her, her one good eye all but focused on him completely, as if she were smitten with him. His eyes grew wide as she began to lean down to him, realization dawning on his features as he attempted to pull away. But when he tried to do so, her chains pushed against his back, keeping him in place for her as what remained of her lips pressed themselves against his.

She tasted like death and decay he surmised if there ever was a taste for it. Keeping himself from gagging yet again, he attempted to push away from her, only for her strength to overpower his as she pushed her advantage, eventually getting his mouth open.

Her half formed tongue pushed into his mouth, as if it were trying to fight for dominance. But that implied he even had a chance in the first place as he tried to reel back yet again from her embrace, something she would have nothing off.

She cupped his face with her hands, her digits gracing his cheeks and neck, keeping him her prisoner as she deepened the kiss.

And just as he tried to relax, something drifted past his tongue, something... metallic.

Panic set in as he could feel something traveling down his throat. And another. And another.

He felt them drop lower and lower within him, poking around within him, poking at places that shouldn't have been possible.

And then a pain within his lower left side told him that one of them had poked too hard, tearing through something.

And then another.

And another.

His body wanted to collapse under the pain, under the assault he'd been put under, but she wouldn't allow it.

And then he felt something... tap along his spine.

His breath hitched in his throat as his back went rigid as her eye seemed to narrow in amusement.

His scream died in his throat as the chains within him ripped him by his spinal cord, the man all but collapsing and separating in a flood of blood and gore as her chains erupted from the man.

What once had been Jeremiah simply melted away at her feet as the chains extending from within her simply retracted back within her as she stepped through the mess he'd become as she approached the railing, the crowd below her now watching her with rapt attention, fear and a rising horror adorning their expressions. She watched a moment, watched a few tense seconds before she simply grinned as her body began to sprout more chains, those curling around the railing as more and more chains began to slink to the floor.

And then she titled her head forwards just ever so slightly.

The Cargo Hold of the Akuze turned to a bloodbath in seconds.

But she took everything in as if she were watching a movie.

3:11 AM

Fear controlled every fiber of her being, like a symphony she was forced to witness. She dared not move a muscle, dared not even take a breath out of succession as she stayed stone still, out of fear that the thing would recognize that she herself still drew breath. For all her faults in her life, 25 year old Natalie did not want to be here any longer.

A chain snaking along the floor next to her brought her attention back to her forefront, watching as it moved like a snake towards what once had been a person she'd been having a more than engrossing chat with. But now, they were barely more than bone and muscle, her blood having long been taken, her flesh split and divided as it was needed. She only spared a glance at where the chain had come from, but no longer than that.

She only caught a glimpse of the monster that stood there.

And then she ducked back behind the box she was hiding behind as she tucked her knees to her chest, willing herself not to whimper or give any sound that she was here, that she was alive.

That she was a meal ready and waiting.

She cursed herself for getting into this situation. She'd joined them because she thought the war unneeded. She'd joined their cause because she'd seen the world's navies as warmongers and nothing more. Ever, had there been any talks of potential peace, never had there been any talks of opening discussions with their foe.

In Natalie's eyes, Peace was always an option.

That ideal had been shattered the second the first body fell in front of her.

When it had, people had scattered, running for the far door on the other side of the Bay. But in doing so, all they had done was made themselves ripe targets for the monster that now stood in the middle of the bay, the monster that was the Abyssal.

Quietly, Natalie pulled her phone from her pocket as she ever so carefully put it around the corner of the boxes she called her haven at the moment as she opened the camera app and ever so slowly position the phone just beyond the edge of the boxes.

When it popped into it's focus, she zoomed in.

And had to resist the urge to gag.

The Abyssal standing in the middle of the Cargo Bay was not like the other Abyssals everyone seemed to know, and hate or romanticize in their online stories and self published theories. This was a monstrosity of creation straight from the nine pits of hell and beyond.

Sure, she held the rough appearance and stature of a human. But in the end of similarities, that was it, when one started and finally got around to adding the chains into the equation. And exactly how they connected to her. And it was horrifying.

From what Natalie had been able to see, from what she'd been able to make out, the chains extended from the Abyssal from pockets of holes decorating the woman's skin. Patches of holes decorated her body in areas such as her elbows, upper arms, the palms of her hands, sides of her neck and lower jawline, the back of her neck, backs of her calves, sides of her legs, her waist and hips, and just below her neck.

Natalie watched as a chain snaked from the woman's calf, extending from the back of her leg as it snaked up her body, curling around her a moment before it found one of the holes lining the woman's jawline, snaking into one of the further back holes, all but vanishing within her. And as it did so, it disturbed the carefully balanced bubble of blood, popping and sending it dripping down her shoulder and body, furthering her intimidating aura.

But when the Abyssal seemed to glance over in her direction, as if it had caught a glance of the woman's phone, Natalie ducked around the box again quickly, hoping that she'd not been found. She prayed to a god she didn't believe in to do anything to stop that thing from finding her.

That all seemed to come to an end when a chain snaked over the box she was sitting behind, popping over the side just over her head.

Only for the chain to abruptly go for one of the bodies sitting further against the wall, digging into the man's arm flesh like a lamprey, burrowing itself inside.

Natalie allowed herself a breath of relief.

And the Abyssal landed in front of her.

Panic surged to the forefront of the woman's mind as she darted to the right side, already getting to her feet and making a mad dash for the end of the Cargo Bay.

She didn't make it.

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