Harry Potter & the Shipgirls

[darthcourt10]

Savato93

"Flagship?" the destroyer bumped her snout against the metal door, pushing it open. "How are you today?"

The Re-class sat sideways in a chair, a ration bar in one hand and a pencil in the other, idling tapping the map on the table in front of her. "…I'm okay," she said simply.

They'd made landfall on this island two days ago. They found no signs of an Abyssal presence, either recently or in the distant past, but they did happen upon a human supply cache. On top of having more than enough rations to restock themselves fully, their search also turned up a handful of charts on the surrounding waters, and a map of the Pacific. All of this together added up to the first instance in which the destroyer had ever seen the Re-class genuinely happy… at least, briefly.

The past year she'd traveled with the destroyer had done wonders for the Re-class—at least, when compared to her condition when they first met. With a steady food supply and regular rest—as enforced by the destroyer—she was finally beginning to look a little healthier, had a little more energy. She was even speaking more clearly. Naturally, there was no getting rid of the scars that covered her body, or repairing her grievous injuries without outside help; but at least they found a full-body cloak to replace her ruined parka.

In regards to her mental state… well, things were still somewhat bleak. The destroyer's support and care for her was finally starting to have a positive effect, yes, but she still descended into nightmares if left asleep for too long, and she still inevitably succumbed to fatigue every month or so. Despite trying her hardest on multiple occasions to cheer her up, until now the destroyer had only ever seen her flagship feeling less sad. She'd smile every now and then… but it was a brittle smile, masking the broken heart underneath.

"Have you figured out where we're going next?" the destroyer continued.

The Re-class shook her head with a sigh. "No. I can't…" She brought her hands to her face. "So many places to search… too many. We'll be wandering for years..."

"…do you need to rest?" the destroyer offered. "You sound like you could use a break…"

The Re-class slowly shook her head. "Can't sleep. Have to plan. Have to keep searching."

"But you just said you can't decide where to go."

"Yes, but… but I…" the Re-class couldn't finish her statement. Letting out a cry of frustration, she gripped the table and threw it end-over-end, letting it crash against the far wall.

Startled, the destroyer hurriedly squeezed her way into the room and began to nuzzle against the fuming Re-class. "Calm down, flagship. Calm down," She spoke to her in a hushed whisper, trying to ease her worries. "Just relax. Take a deep breath, count to ten, something. Don't have to freak out over this."

The agitated Re-class stiffened at the destroyer's touch, almost jerking away before she remembered who it was—her ally, her friend. She let out a defeated whimper, sagging against the destroyer's snout. "I'm sorry…" she said quietly. "I… I just…"

"You miss your family? You're worried about them?"

The Re-class nodded. "Evil things all dead… but home burned to the ground. So many… so many of them, gone without a trace." She reached up, gingerly patting the destroyer's snout. "They have to be out there, somewhere. They HAVE to. If… if I can just find them…"

"But how will you find them if you're too exhausted, too confused and agitated, to even think straight?" the destroyer asked pointedly. "I know how badly you want to find them, but running yourself into the ground isn't going to make the search faster, or easier."

"…I…" the Re-class struggled to find her words.

"Please, just stop and rest for the day," the destroyer pleaded. "Maybe you'll have an easier time plotting our course if you step away from it for a while, clear your thoughts. Okay?"

The Re-class was quiet for a long time.

Finally, she let out a shaky sigh. "...okay."

XXXXXXXXXX

Regalia looked herself quietly in the bathroom mirror. She raised a hand, lightly brushing her fingers against the skin just beneath her eyes.

The party was wonderful. The food was amazing, everyone was happy… she even got to try her hand at dancing (Ridgeline suggested she get lessons before trying again… 'like watching a battleship run aground', she put it). Everything was great.

But then, Silver asked a single question, and things kiiiiinda went sideways.

"Hey, Regalia… why aren't your eyes green anymore?"

Through all the excitement of her awakening, her joy in being healed, and the celebration, nobody had paid much mind to it. The moment that question registered in their minds, however, every Abyssal in earshot snapped around to look her in the eyes—and their jaws dropped.

Looking around at her dumbstruck family, feeling deeply out of the loop, she'd decided to see for herself. "Ah… can I get a mirror? Again?" Luckily, Regina had a hand mirror available, sparing her mother from having to pull out the big one again. Turning in place to get better light, Regalia brought the mirror up to her face.

She was not met with the soft green eyes she had come to know as her own; the ones she inherited from her formerly Ta-class mother. Instead, she found herself staring into a pair of eyes tinted a brilliant gold.

The mark of a Flagship-level Abyssal.

Regalia's response at the time summed up everyone's thoughts rather succinctly: "…What."

Once the initial shock wore off, the celebration picked back up quickly enough; it came outta nowhere, sure, but it was just another thing everyone could be happy about. Regalia put her worries aside for their sake, did her best to enjoy everything they'd done for her; once the party was over, however, she was right back to contemplating this sudden turn of events.

"Regalia?" the Re-class glanced back from the mirror to see Hoppou behind her, a questioning look on her face. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh… y-yeah, I'm fine, Grandma. Everything's great." Regalia looked back to the mirror, gesturing to her face. "I'm just a little… confused. How could something like this even happen? I'm nowhere near as old as Regina and Revina, I've never had a refit before now, and I've never fought anyone… but suddenly, I'm potentially stronger than them."

Hoppou rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm… Hoppou has theory." She lifted a hand, opening and closing it. "Hoppou removed Regalia from old body during rebuild, so Hoppou could dismantle hull beyond the point of being fatal. Do you remember that?"

Regalia closed her eyes, thinking. "…I think, yeah. It's kind of a blur. One minute, I was falling asleep as my boilers were shut down, and the next thing I knew, I was dreaming. But somewhere in between, there was this brief period where I felt… detached, from the world around me. I could still feel you, and Mom, and everyone around me—but everything else just felt numb."

Hoppou nodded. "Seems about right. So, Regalia's spirit was exposed to world. While Hoppou worked on body, spirit was guarded by Tanith and other flagships, who are all grown-up Abyssals. Grown-ups like them give off a little bit of their energy, their power, as aura. Normally, that wouldn't do much to people besides make the air around them feel heavier… but Regalia's spirit had no body, no protection from aura of Tanith and sisters pressing down on her."

"So… you're saying I may have absorbed all the energy my mom and aunts were giving off?" Regalia asked.

"That's what Hoppou is thinking, yes. Might have actually been harmful in different circumstances… but Tanith and sisters are family to Regalia, care deeply for her. Effect on spirit was positive, beneficial."

"…Huh." That… kinda made sense. In the time she spent disembodied, she could feel her family, their warm feelings, their power, so much more clearly than she ever did in the flesh. It didn't seem too much of a stretch for her to have ended up saturated by all of that. "But then… just how long was I stuck like that, that I'd soak up enough power to jump from a regular old Re-class to a Flagship?"

"Almost four whole days."

Regalia's eyes widened. She glanced inward, checked her archives. Hoppou wasn't exaggerating—the timestamps of her last recorded daily log, and her current one, were a little over four days apart. "Oh. Wow."

Hoppou tilted her head, a small frown on her face. "Is Regalia not happy about becoming strong?"

The Re-class held up her hands. "No, no, nothing like that, Grandma. But…" she sighed. "It just doesn't really feel like I earned this power. I have no experience in combat. And what would I even do with it? I don't know how to fight..."

Hoppou shrugged. "Easy enough to fix, if Big Sister is willing to have Regina or Revina train you. And in the end, Regalia doesn't HAVE to do anything with this power, if she doesn't want to." She smiled brightly. "But what Regalia has been through her whole life, how she's been able to endure, and thrive in spite of flaws… Regalia does have experience, and lots of it. It's just a different kind of experience… and that doesn't mean it doesn't count."

Regalia turned back to the mirror one last time, expression thoughtful. "…I guess you're right. This… doesn't have to be a bad thing." She frowned. "Still... I'm gonna miss my green eyes."

"Hoppou thinks that could be fixed with color contacts, if Regalia is interested."

Regalia giggled softly. "I appreciate the offer, Grandma, though I think I'll be able to manage. But I'll keep it in mind."

Hoppou nodded with a playful grin. "If you ever change your mind, Hoppou will be happy to set you up." After a moment, the little princess yawned. "Now… Hoppou needs sleep. Been up for over four days." She waved a goodbye to Regalia as she turned away. "Good night, Regalia."

"Good night, Grandma..."

As Hoppou began to walk away, there was a spark in Regalia's mind. Now finally free of distractions, celebrations, and worries... a very pressing matter made itself known to her.

"Grandma, wait!"

The princess looked back, confused. "Yes? Does Regalia need something else?"

Stepping forward, Regalia kneeled in front of Hoppou. "Grandma… I… I saw them."

Hoppou cocked her head. "Saw who?"

Regalia took a deep breath before she continued. "Ruka… Tamara… Chica… all of them."

Hoppou's eyes widened. "…those are names of Hoppou's girls," she said slowly. "They… they passed away in Unalaska. Did Regalia learn about them from Tanith?"

Regalia shook her head. "When I was dreaming… while I was under… they came to me. Spoke to me. Kept me company."

Hoppou was silent for several seconds, blinking slowly. "How does Regalia know this for sure…?" she asked hesitantly. "Does she have proof?"

"Yeah. Tamara told me about that one time a fishing boat struck a sandbank in a part of the sea she was supposed to be patrolling, and was stuck there for nearly a day, costing them a lot of time, money, and potential hauls. She told everyone else that she wasn't there to prevent it, because she detected an unknown submarine nearby and detoured to chase them away. But the next night, she came to you feeling guilty as hell (her words, not mine), and privately confessed that she'd ditched her patrol-"

There was a sharp intake of breath from Hoppou. "...to go see a movie."

Regalia nodded. "You agreed to not make a scene about it in front of everyone else, if Tamara apologized to the fishermen, and made it up to them by going out and personally catching all the seafood they needed to meet their quota for the month."

"...and she did exactly that…" What little color there was in Hoppou's face was beginning to drain away. "...Hoppou never told that to anyone. Only other person who could possibly know is… Tamara herself."

"She thought that might convince you…"

Regalia's words trailed off as the little princess was suddenly inches from her face, propping herself up on the Re-class's legs. "Where are they now? Are they okay? Are they happy?" Her eyes were full of confusion, wonder… and guilt. "...are they… are they mad at Hoppou, for failing to keep them safe?"

"No… they're not mad at you." Regalia shook her head. "Uncle Harry… Ruadri… they were right. They're up in the sea of stars, now."

"...they are?" Hoppou's voice had a hopeful tone to it.

"Yeah. They can go wherever they want, now. They're free, and happy." Regalia looked to Hoppou. "And even though they miss everybody, they're glad we were able to keep on living, make peace with the humans, be happy again. But…"

"But?"

Regalia took a deep breath. "Before I left that place… before I woke up… they asked me to pass something on. A message to you."

Hoppou blinked. Pushing herself off Regalia's lap, she took a step back and focused fully on the Re-class. "Hoppou is listening."

Regalia nodded. She closed her eyes, thinking back to what her lost family had said to her.

And she spoke.

"Thank you, Mother. For everything."

The words came to her easily, almost of their own volition. "We were honored to have you as our Princess. You didn't just teach us to be war machines, to be hateful monsters like all the others… you taught us to look after each other, to live and let live. You taught us to love. The universe is so much bigger than Unalaska—we know that, now—but for all our lives, it was home. And if it weren't for you, we never would have been able to meet the people that we shared that home with. Made friends, created precious memories; contributed to something bigger than ourselves, bigger than the fleet. We never would have had a reason to protect it all.

"We don't blame you for our deaths, Mother. If anything, we're grateful. We're grateful, because you gave us all something truly worth dying for: peace. And we'll never forget that." Regalia opened her eyes. "We love you, Mother. Now and forever."

Regalia glanced up to her grandmother—and paused. A trembling Hoppou stared back at her, eyes brimming with tears and her lips quavering. "Uh…. Grandm—"

The Re-class was cut off as Hoppou threw herself at her, her arms wrapping around her neck in a tight hug. "Thank you, Regalia…" Hoppou whispered into her ear, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Thank you. This… this means so much to me..."

Regalia sighed in relief as she put her own arms around the Princess. "They had a feeling it would."

"Hoppou always worried… where her girls went after they died. If they found peace. If they forgave Hoppou for being too nice, making other Abyssals attack us." Her grip loosening, Hoppou slid down into Regalia's lap, looking to her with a weak smile. "Maybe now, Hoppou can stop worrying… because now she knows her girls are in a better place."

"Yeah… they must get to see so many amazing things, up there." For a moment, Regalia's gaze drifted to the ceiling… her thoughts on the starry night sky beyond. Then, she remembered something. "There was one other thing they wanted me to pass on..."

Hoppou tilted her head, intrigued. "Other thing? What's that?"

"They wanted me to tell you that she's looking for you. That she wants to come home."

Hoppou's body went rigid. She stared at Regalia with wide eyes, her face completely white. "Are you absolutely sure that's what they said…?" she asked.

"Yeah." Regalia looked to Hoppou, concerned. "Are you alright, Grandma? Is that message a bad thing?" thinking about it for a moment, she continued. "Who is this girl they were talking about? Another Abyssal?"

Hoppou's response came in the form of a low whisper, almost inaudible. A single word... a name.

"Renita."

 

[darthcourt10]

Snippet 38: S0ngD0g13

The gym on-base at Kure was empty at three in the morning, but the interior echoed with the thunderous booming of someone with greater-than-human strength striking a heavy-bag...

It was into this cacophony that Houshou walked, and found Virginia, coat off and her fists bare, throwing combinations as though the Ironclad were trying to batter an Abyssal Princess down. "Kaylee? Kaylee, what's troubling you?"

Kaylee spoke without taking her focus off the bag, nor slowing down her rhythm. "Couldn't sleep. Been going over the intelligence from that Abyssal we dragged off the beach at Lotus Island. It don't make sense, Aunt Houshou."

"How so?"

"The Abyssal we caught wasn't local, and either her logs and charts were wrong or else her and her Princess were lucky in ways fit to make Shigure and Enterprise both look like black cats covered in broken mirrors; the charts claimed the Abyssal, a Destroyer Water-Demon by name of 'Shield', and her Princess, came around Good Hope and crossed the Indian to get here from the Atlantic."

Houshou frowned as Kaylee dropped her hands and let the bag swing slowly to a stop. "That would surely be phenomenal luck, to have crossed so vast a distance... could she have been lying?"

Kaylee flexed her fists nervously. "I don't know for a certainty that she was... Her logs were all written in German, her charts had German notes in the margins, and she spoke nothing but German. But liar or not, she was mad as a hatter, Aunt Houshou; the ONI geeks took the audio-recordings of her interrogation and slid me the translated transcripts, where she goes on and on about the 'Golden Horde' rising to power, and how when 'Insane Smoke' finds us that we'll all either 'be bitten deeply by the Night' or 'enthralled'. She talked about 'Red Fire and White Fire', too, and about someone or something that 'Bites Armor', and strangely-enough, about whale-song. I think her time on that beach might have addled her brains..."

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

Ruithidh MacHamish, Chief of the Clan and Name of Clan MacHamish of the Meteors, adjusted her féileadh-mór and walked toward the guards outside the Princess' palace. When she drew near them, she stopped and addressed the pair of Light Cruisers. "Guardsmen, I've a request fer ye tae pass on tae whiche'er lofty soul is most-knowledgeable in th' matter; I've twa letters tae send, an' I'd prefer knowin' if th' sendin' o' them would land me in trouble."

"To whom, and where-located, Ruithidh MacHamish?" one asked.

"Ain tae th' Orient, tae Japan an' a possible distant kinswoman o' mine wha bides there." She held out a newspaper article that bore a photograph of a Shipgirl wearing a long gray coat and a gray kepi. "An' ain tae Scotland in th' realm o' Murdina Princess o' Scots, tae m' sister Geile MacHamish o' Clan Gunn; it's been long-an'-long since last she 'ad word frae me, nor I frae her."

"We will relay your inquiry, Ruithidh, rest assured."

The Scottish Ru-Class nodded. "Ye have m' thanks, then. An' as a tangible gesture o' that thanks, ye also have these." She tossed each guard a leather wineskin embossed with the morion-helm logo of Casca's winery, full and bulging. "It's some o' Casca's latest batch o' Posca."

The pair smiled and took long pulls from the skins of watered campaigner's-wine, then smacked their lips and thanked Ruithidh for the gift of it...

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

As the sun sank below the horizon, Argyll MacHamish stood overlooking the field that was the beginning of her farm, saw the green shoots of wheat and barley, and lifted her pipes to play; she bid the day farewell with a song as Blue Bonnets All-Along th' Border echoed over the land and sea...

 

[darthcourt10]

Snippet 39: S0ngD0g13

Jackson Graves walked into Crowe's house three weeks after the arrest of Tolliver Daggit with a rucksack over his back. "Crowe, we got a lead. Scourer Regional Cell-Leads are set to meet in forty-eight hours. You still want in?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?"

Graves grinned. "Thought you'd say that. Before we head out, I've gotta brief you on this op and get you geared-up, though." He opened the magically-expanded ruck and withdrew a body-armor vest, handing it to Anderson. "I know you've got some sterile fatigues, wear them under this. IMTV-M, Improved Modular Tactical Vest-Magical; it's got two layers of Acromantula Silk and two layers of Dragon-hide mixed in with the kevlar, and reinforcing enchantments on the SAPIs."

As Crowe dug out a set of black fatigues devoid of insignia or nametapes and donned them and the vest, he nodded. "Auror-Issue?"

"I wish. The vests issued to Aurors aren't anywhere near as protective. Let's just say I got that vest and my own through some inter-agency cooperation, along with some more good gear." Jackson, having already been wearing his own fatigues, pulled out a second vest and a collection of equipment pouches. "Funny thing, the Chief of Staff for the Army's read-in on magic, as is CG-USASOC. After Rattlesnake got out and went back to Tennessee, I did some time with a different unit, an all-magical one."

"What unit?"

"One that don't exist, kinda like your old unit." He started setting up pouches on his vest, as did Crowe. "My old CO from the Luckies works for MIB nowadays, so I pulled some strings now that my contract with the Aurors is expired. Officially I'm still an Auror First-Class, and on Indefinite Loan to Shipgirl Command as MACUSA Liaison. In all actuality I'm back in the Army and an E-7, seconded to MIB Special-Projects Division along with the rest of my unit."

"Alright," said Crowe, putting two canisters marked 'Grenade, Visual-Obscurant, XM-6R00' into pouches on his vest. "How does that get me in on this takedown?"

Graves pulled out a packet of parchment and a Blood Quill. "This is an NDA; sign it and I'll be able to read you in fully. Word of warning, it's a literal gag-order, in the sense of you'll be physically-incapable of communicating about this to anyone not read-in themselves." Anderson looked over the NDA; it was very thorough and very specific in its wording, but otherwise identical to any other NDA he'd ever dealt with. "Here. It's a Blood Quill; signing with it will sting for a moment." Anderson looked askance. "Yes, the NDA has to be signed in blood; it keys the magic in the contract to you."

"Hand me the damned quill." Crowe quickly scratched his name on the appropriate line and felt a phantom sensation of weight settling for a brief moment. "There. Now, briefing?"

Graves nodded. "Intelligence we've gotten from captured Scourers indicates a strong likelihood of both extranational funding via criminal enterprise, and transfer of Class-A Restricted Goods and Data, specifically materials and formulae for several types of potion that are best described as Magical Victor-Xray, to the Scourers."

"Magical VX? As in the nerve-agent VX?"

"Yup. That puts these shit-biscuits firmly in the jurisdiction of Special-Projects, since they're the ones tasked with dealing with CBRN threats. Remember how I said my unit's seconded to Special-Projects?"

"Yes..."

Graves handed two packets of documents to Crowe; at the top of one packet was a passport and ID with a Magical photograph of Crowe and the name 'Jacob Ravenheart' on it. "Your cover-identity; as far as MACUSA outside of MIB and the Luckies know, you're a Squib, and a Sergeant that's been seconded to Special-Projects from MARMAJSOC's Fourth Raiders. The second packet is orders TAD-ing you from SPECDIV to Company 'D' of the 1313th Infantry Battalion as a NoMaj Liaison. Welcome to the 'Lucky Thirteens', Crowe."

Jackson's phone rang not ten minutes later, as the pair were getting ready to depart; he picked it up and said, "Graves here. You heard? Yes... Alright, but he's already been read-in, Ma'am, and briefed. I did give him my word. From where? Whose office? Oh... Roger that, Ma'am; I understand your position clearly." He hung up with a conflicted look on his face.

"Good news/Bad news, Crowe. Bad news, per Constitution with the backing of CG-USASOC, this particular bust is too close to home for you; you've gotta sit it out. Good news is that the credentials I got you and the TAD orders to the 1313th are still good, and as Ol' Ironsides just reminded me, the world's got no shortage of assholes, and the Wizarding World's no exception; there'll be other ops where I could use someone watching my back that I can trust. We good, Brother?"

 

[darthcourt10]

SkyeFire Omake: Disarming a Shotgun

Barricade said:
Whoever it was (while WE know, THEY don't), the lass wasn't intimidated by the 10x 12" guns the sisters were packing. And South Carolina only had 8x 12" guns.​

You know... for once, I'd kinda like someone to not play the "shovel speech" scene straight....
*-*-*-*

Kisei stared up the barrel of the very large gun currently parked in front of her nose, drawing on all her training (from MIB poker-night matches as much as official MIB officer training courses) to keep her face coolly unconcerned.

"Ma'am, I understand your feelings on this matter, and I respect the fact that you are concerned for your daughters' reputation and well-being. However--" she forced her voice to chill, instead of squeak "--my 'responsibilities' towards your daughters are a matter for them and myself to discuss. Privately. If you will excuse us?"

Turning away as if South Carolina's permission were either assured or irrelevant, Kisei ignored the sensation of crosshairs on her back and gestured towards the gape-jawed twins. "Ladies. Shall we?"
Utterly gobsmacked, Delaware and North Dakota took up station on either side of her as she walked away. Kisei took each of them by the nearest arm, doing her desperate best to make it look casual.

"God a'mighty," Del whispered after a moment. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone but Grandma Connie and maybe SecNav talk back to Ma that way before."

Norrie risked a glance back over her shoulder. "She's still standing there -- I think she's not sure what to do."

Kisei steered them around the nearest corner. "Is she out of sight yet?"

"Yes."
"Oh, good." And then her battleships were the only things holding her up, as her knees finally gave out and the shakes hit.

Swordsman dis-armed his Shipgirl-scaled stunning spell and glanced at Mary, who was eyeing the snooperscope display with a nearly hungry expression. "No, Mary."

She could still pull of an expression of Utter Innocence that could fool most people... who didn't know her. "No what?"

"She's mine. You are not poaching my best protege just because she reminds you of yourself at that age!"

"Oh, she doesn't. But she has 'fake it 'til you make it' down cold. She just needs a little... tempering... to make her nerves as steely as she can pretend they are. I wonder if she likes knife games....?"

"Dammit, Mary...."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Savato93 said:
"Please, just stop and rest for the day," the destroyer pleaded. "Maybe you'll have an easier time plotting our course if you step away from it for a while, clear your thoughts. Okay?"​

...when Hoppou meets this lil' DD, she's gonna get hugged so hard...

Viridian said:
I just had a fascinating conversation with my wife Regarding why I suddenly got all teary-eyed while reading my phone. I'm going to point her to the beginning of the first thread.​

You monster!

That's almost as evil as sending someone to TVTropes!

 

[darthcourt10]

NotHimAgain

An adventure of a different Select, for a change.
-----

The Head Auror leaned forward, resting his hands on his desk and glaring at the men standing in front of him.

"Let me see if I have this straight," he said slowly, enunciating clearly. The Auror on the left gulped, the man of the right stood stoically at attention. "Five wizards broke out of prison this week. Five followers of Phineas Lair, a terrorist who some were afraid would become the next Dark Lord about six or so years ago." The Head Auror claimed that he was not one of these people, but that such people always ought to be taken as seriously as possible.

"They gathered three trolls with promises of wealth or freedom under their new leader, abducted six muggle children, and illegally obtained a baby dragon. Then they hide out in a shack on the edge of the bayou. In the open. With no magical defenses." He folded his hands, and the man on the left allowed his eyes to flicker away briefly. This is where things got seriously interesting.

"When you arrived on the scene, all five wizards and three trolls were dead. Not just that, but your reports described them as having fatal wounds delivered with a chainsaw. The six children and the baby dragon were missing, and when you attempted to track them, every spell you had failed." The Head Auror looked between the two. "I'm sure you both understand how ridiculous this report sounds."

"We've considered it," the Auror on the right said stoically. The Head Auror scrutinized him for a second before deciding that no, the man simply didn't have the sense of humor for it.

"Have you considered the implications yet?" he replied, standing.

"Sir?" the less-composed Auror asked worriedly.

"Eyes are on the magical governments of the world right now," the Head Auror explained, walking over to examine a painting of his predecessor in the office. "I'm sure you've been following the literal laundry-list of scandals that the Japanese Diet has been undergoing?"

They both seemed to recognize what he spoke of, but he continued without giving them the chance to confirm. "People are beginning to look at their own governments, wonder if they too will be found wanting when the pressure mounts. Gentlemen," he looked between them, glaring slightly. "What does it say of our Aurors that they lost a baby dragon?"

"Sir?" The one on the left.

"Yes?"

"I'm kind of wondering about the weapon used in the fight," he admitted. This one is a No-Maj-Born, wasn't he? A unique insight that looked like it might prove its worth soon. "No-Majs have a thing about chainsaws as weapons, but the thing is that they're practically useless in that regard—the chain breaks, gas runs out after a while, stuff like that."

"You think it might have been magically enhanced," the Head Auror surmised.

"Or some kind of special design specifically for combat," the Auror admitted. "Otherwise, I can't see how the fight ended in less than a minute."

"That's another thing that I find hard to believe."

"Sir." The other, Pureblooded Auror spoke up. "That is what we were able to determine by the position of the bodies and the wounds they had suffered. Whoever did it was… fast. Faster than I think humans are able to be."

The Head Auror glanced back at the No-Maj-Born, who blinked rapidly before figuring out the question being posed him. "Oh! Uh, I honestly don't know. You hear stories of No-Majs pulling off some pretty crazy stuff, from time to time. Who says this is any different?"

So in short, an extremely capable individual capable of wielding one of the worst possible weapons in the world like a legendary swords-master. They needed to do something to nip this in the bud immediately.
-----

Jeffrey DuBois gave the adamant chainsaw a quick once-over, making sure that the weapon hadn't thrown its chain or had some kind of mechanical failure. It was a cut above many of its kind due to the materials used in its creation, but he had learned to be wary of things like failed sparkplugs and the like.

"Hey, mister?" Jeffrey looked down at the little girl who was tugging on his sleeve. While the other children had contented themselves with playing with a hatchling fire-breathing lizard, the little glasses-wearing redhead had gravitated over to the final member of their little party. "The lady wants to talk to you."

The Lady. A woman with Native American features and long hair done up with leaves and twigs. Jeffrey walked over, stepping around the playing children to get to her, and nodded deeply.

"My thanks for your help, as always," he said. She smiled but said nothing. Just like she had every other time that he had spoken to her. Turning, she walked into the shadows of the trees and was gone entirely.

"Mister?" Jeffrey looked down at the redhead. "Who was she?"

"She's a guardian of the bayou," he said, leaning down and looking her in the face. "Other than that, I'm afraid she's not too talkative about herself." The girl pouted, and he patted her on the head, standing and looking around.

"Alright, guys," he said to the children, "who's ready to go home?" As one, they ran towards him, the dragon hopping and stumbling behind them.

Oh, right. What the hell was he going to do with a baby dragon?

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

A pop sounded as Charlie Weasley appeared quite literally out of thin air. For several moments, the second oldest of the seven Weasley children stood there before he took a deep breath and looked around. Off to one side, the waters of Loch Ness lapped against the rocky shore much as they had for untold centuries. Said waters were dark and chill, hiding what lay beneath them from mortal eyes.

However, Charlie was not there for sightseeing as interesting as it might be.

Instead, he began walking along the drive he was on towards the small house that sat on the shores of the Loch. Passing through the wards, he could feel a slight tingle that made him smile. They accepted him as friendly, and he had seen what they did to those that they considered to be unfriendly once, years before. Said man being one of the rogue Death Eaters who forgot that the war was over, granted he was still alive... though with what looked like what non-magicals would think were electrical burns all over his body.

Just as he reached the steps though, the door opened and a woman stepped out with a bright smile on her face. Placing her hands on her hips, she looked down at Charlie and shook her head. "Charlie Weasley, as I live and breath. Aboot time yeh show up!"

Chuckling, Charlie rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. "Sorry about the wait, but you know how my Mum gets." Then he paused and frowned in confusion. "Though as soon as I told her that I was coming to meet with you-"

The woman's smile because a grin. "She shooved you right out o' the door, didn't she?" When he nodded, she laughed. "Sounds aboot right for her. Jus' give me a moment here." Going back into the door, the woman disappeared before reappearing with a basket. "There we go! Soomthing ta eat down aboot the shore. Already got it all set up."

Eyebrow raising Charlie shook his head as he waited for her to close the door and head down the steps. "A picnic? Seriously, Seiche?"

In her eyes was a twinkle as she brushed a bit of muddy brown hair behind one ear. "Aye, down aboot the water. A lovely day for it."

Only shaking his head, the twenty year old wizard snorted. "I suppose that it is."

Walking alongside her, he did raise an eyebrow. Having met her back in his Sixth year when he came to Loch Ness to try and see the Kelpie, he knew that she had been ten years older then him. And despite it being nearby five years, there was barely any difference in her looks, as if she had barely aged at all. Granted, some witches seemed to age very slowly as did some Squibs, but it was still worth a raised eyebrow. However, he paused as he looked at her shirt which made Seiche smirk. "Charlie Weasley, are yeh checking oot my tits?"

Sputtering, Charlie waved his hands in the air. "W-what? No! Of course I wasn't!"

Head tilted to the side, her smirk widened. "What? Are me tits not to yeh liking?"

Face going red, the Weasley continued to wave his hands. "No! I mean yes! They're very nice but-" At her laugh, he groaned and facepalmed. "How the bloody hell do you do that?"

Light laughter escaping her, Seiche grinned at him. "Experience, Charlie. Loots of experience." Before he could ask, she leaned in close. "Not to mention, yeh are pretty cute when all flustered. Hard not to do."

Needless to say, that only made Charlie flush more. Groaning, the red head pinched his nose. "One of these days, Seiche, one of these days..."

Raising one eyebrow in amusement, Seiche chuckled. "One o' these days yeh will turn it aboot on me, I suppose?" Lips curling even more, she elbowed him lightly. "I'll be looking forward ta that!"

Well used to her teasing, even if she was still able to get him with it, Charlie sighed and looked at her. 'Well... they are nice, a little more then a handful-' Quickly shaking that thought off, he took a deep breath. "Actually, I was looking more at your shirt."

Simply humming as they reached their destination, Seiche looked at him. "Me shirt? What aboot it?"

Eyes rolling in their sockets, Charlie gave her a look. "You know what. Seriously, Seiche?" He then gestured at it with one hand. "It says 'I'm the human form of the Loch Ness Monster' across the front of it. Why? And where the heck did you even find a shirt like that in the first place?"

Chuckling, the young woman shook her head and shrugged. "Why? I got it because it amused me. As fer where? I got it in this nice little place in Inverness during a shooping trip."

Only shaking his head at her sense of humor, Charlie sighed. "Of course." Now glancing at the picnic basket, he waved a wand to unfold the blanket and another to stick it to the ground. "Hopefully, you don't have any haggis."

Hands on her hips, Seiche gave him a look. "Do not be making insults to the haggis, Charlie. Do you have any idea how hard it is to catch? How fast it is when in motion after it has started froom its hill?" Waving a hand, she sighed. "You poor fool. Uncounted numbers of people are snatched up by flocks o' wild haggis migrating between the ranges! Uncounted!"

Utterly amused at this point, Charlie gave a snort. "I'll take your word on it, Seiche." Sitting down, he let out a sigh. "Still, your cooking is nearly as good as Mum's, so I'm not about to complain."

Lips curling, Seiche chuckled some. "Ach, away wit yeh, Charlie Weasley! Now there be a compliment fer this here Scottish lass." Bending over, she pretended not to notice Charlie staring at her behind clad in tight jeans even as she smirked. "Boot I think that I have some food for that bottomless pit that yeh call a stoomach."

Moments later, the Weasley accepted some roast beef sandwiches and shook his head. "Not bottomless. Now, if you want to see that, my younger brother Ron is well on his way." Pausing for a moment, he could only frown. "Sort of like his girlfriends, I think."

That made the other person there look at him in interest. "Girlfriends, yeh say? As in more then one o' them? An' here I thought that your brother was only thirteen!"

Grimacing a bit, Charlie groaned. "Don't remind me. And yeah, you know that shipgirl I told you about that he became friends with? Warspite?" At her nod, he continued. "Well, from what I saw, it seems that the two of them have gotten together or something. And she brought in a friend of hers, Duke of York. How that works out, I don't even know."

A thoughtful look on her face, the woman considered that for a few moments. "Shipgirls are an odd lot, I think. Boot I have seen odder in me life, Charlie. And as long as they are happy, what does it matter in the end?" Eyes twinkling, she gave him a smile. "Unless yeh are jealous o' your little brother?"

Just knowing that his ears were red, Charlie ran a hand through his hair and gave a small chuckle. "Well... I will admit that there is a part of me that is. They both are pretty damn beautiful women after all." Seeing the slight frown, he shrugged. "Not that they're far from you. And you also got that accent which they don't have..."

Seeing the slight pinkening of her cheeks, the red head almost missed the grin on her face. "Oh? So you do think that I'm good lookin'? An also liking me accent? Good ta know, Charlie." Head tilted to the side, she hummed as she leaned back and gave him a look that made heat rise in his own cheeks. "Perhaps you should come by more often then."

Only shaking his head, Charlie snorted. "You know that I'm too busy at the reserve, Seiche. Though I do come and visit while here in Britain." Deciding to take a chance, he waggled his eyebrows some. "Not that I mind much."

Moments later, a sheepish smile crossed his face as she laughed. "Ach! Should o' guessed that would be on your mind!"

Blushing, the wizard shook his head. "Yeah, yeah." He then took a bite of his sandwich and chewed it before swallowing and continuing. "At least you don't tease me about loving dragons."

As always when he mentioned that, there was an odd look on her face before Seiche spoke up. "And? Woot of it? Nothin' wrong with soomething like that! Dragons need love like anythin' else, Charlie."

It always puzzled him why she reacted like that, but as always he shoved it aside even as he ate the food she had prepared. Both of them ate in companionable silence as they looked out onto Loch Ness. However, Seiche said something that caught Charlie's interest. "Hmm?"

Rolling her eyes, she gave him a look of fond exasperation. "I was woondering about if yeh had heard aboot that new dragon reserve that they be creating in the Highlands. From what Ah have heard, its not too far froom here."

Simply taking a moment to clap his hands free of some crumbs, Charlie considered what he had heard as well before shaking his head. "I've heard some about it, though it is less creating and more reactivating an old dragon reserve. The Wards are still there after all, it was just shut down back in the 1800s. With the Abyssals and such, they can't keep them all out on the Hebrides after all. And the Welsh reserve is having issues as well with the war as they need to spread out their numbers a bit. Still going to be two or three years before its ready though."

Head tilted to the side, Seiche's eyes became hooded some. "But that is not all that I am asking."

There was a pause before Charlie sighed and nodded. "Okay, I've been offered a position as Head Keeper there when they open up. Apparently they were impressed at what I did over in Japan regarding that one hatchling that I told you about."

On Seiche's face was a soft smile. "Ach, I remember your letter aboot that. Ta go through such trouble for what moost would consider a lost cause, yeh got a heart o' gold, Charlie Weasley. Though..." Looking out at the Loch, she took a few moments before continuing. "I got a loft in me house that could be turned into an apartment if you want somewhere ta live besides on the reserve wit those dragons. And we are cloose to where it is."

Freezing, Charlie boggled a bit before looking at her directly. When he did so, their eyes met and he blinked slowly. "I, um... I'll think about it. Still a few years yet, Seiche. But... I wouldn't say no."

A small smile on her face, the woman nodded. "Good."

Eventually coughing, Charlie grabbed a small meat pie. "So, um, did I tell you about Ron? And what he's doing?"

More then somewhat amused, Seiche shook her head. "Besides him havin' two girlfriends? Or close friends who are girls? No. What has yeh little brother been up to?"

Chuckling, the Weasley shook his head. "Well, right now he's down in Saint Brendan's with Dad. Officially, Dad is there checking up on some stuff. But unofficially? Everyone knows that they wouldn't really listen now. So he's taken Ron down there to learn some stuff about magical engineering." Just shaking his head, Charlie smiled a bit. "Not something that I am really interested a whole lot in, but Ron is good at it. Like I am with dragons or Bill is with cursebreaking, or even better then we are at our subjects. And I'm proud to see it actually, along with everything else. Heck, I've seen some of his drawings without him knowing, and I couldn't manage to do that."

Somewhat thoughtful, Seiche tapped a finger against the blanket before taking another bite of food. "Proud of him?"

His expression serious, Charlie looked directly at her. "I am damn proud of him. Bloody hell, I think that he's the one that will be remembered the best out of all of us in the future. Bill might be a bit uneasy about the whole thing, but even he agrees on that. And he's only uneasy because of what happened in Egypt!"

The conversation meandered around before turning to the trip to Japan, with Charlie telling an interested Seiche all about it. Looking out at the waters before them as she packed away the remains of lunch, she frowned. "Sort o' wish that I could go there. Been around the Loch all me life after all. Sounds interesting and loovely to see."

Charlie scratched his chin some and nodded. "I won't deny that. Maybe next time though I'll see if I can drag you along as well. After all, you got to go further then Inverness."

An amused smile on her face, the woman snorted. "I will have you know, Charlie Weasley, that I have been further then Inverness." With a put upon tone at his knowing look, Seiche placed one hand on her chest. "London town and Edinburgh!"

Rolling his eyes, the wizard shook his head. "Oh my, never mind then, You're obviously more well travelled then I am." For several moments the two looked at each other before they both laughed and began to walk back to her home. "Seriously though, you should get out more. Granted, you do know more about the Loch then anyone else." He then snapped his fingers. "Right! That came up by the way, Bill was commenting on how you don't believe that the Kelpie is the real Loch Ness Monster."

Just shaking her head, Seiche wagged a finger. "That is because it is not. While there are tales of Kelpies, just like any other Loch, they're vague things mostly related to the River Ness, not the Loch itself. Of all of them, there are but one story and that is regarding a man named MacGregor and his clan."

Picnic basket swinging at his side, Charlie gave a nod. "You told me about that, how there were reports of a black Kelpie at the shore of the Loch and MacGregor snuck up on it before using it sword to knock off its bridle, or cut it off. Then he grabbed the bridle and ran back to his home, the Kelpie hot on his heels before tossing it into his house."

Seiche frowned at that before sighing. "Aye, that is what happened in the story. But there was more, the Kelpie tried every way to steal it back. Even told him that he would die unless it was returned ta him. MacGregor though kept it and the Kelpie vanished back into the Loch. That is the only real story aboot a kelpie and the Loch though, and I think that's the Kelpie in the Loch now, unable to leave or do harm witout its bridle."

Arms crossed, Charlie went back over the stories she had told him and shook her head. "But then you got the Saint Columba thing, right?"

That got a nod from Seiche. "Indeed, one day when Saint Columba was in the area, he was told aboot a monster that overturned a fishing boat and drowned some men near where the Loch enters the River Ness. Heading there, he had one o' his followers swim in the Loch to attract the monster, at which time he stooped it. The monster though was not lookin' like a water horse. No, it was soomething else entirely as they do not attack in the water. Now, most o' the muggle stories has it where he drove it away, but that is not what he did I found."

Confused as this was new for a change, the twenty year old wizard raised an eyebrow. "Okay? So what did he do?"

Spreading her arms, the woman sighed. "He placed a spell on the monster, Charlie. A powerful magic, perhaps powered by his faith in God, Himself. Using his power, he cast the monster into a new form. It was a proud beastie it was, one full o' arrogance regarding the humans who lived along the shores of the Loch. So he forced it into the form o' a human for a human lifetime. To live as a human, to feel as one. He also did the same to the Monster's kin, Morag. Boot of them lived a life as a human, then transformed back. But now they understood humans. They felt the same things humans did, and it left a mark on them, hence why they stooped preying on them and became protectors o' the Lochs."

While a part of him was suspicious, the rest just nodded along. "I see, so the two of them are no longer hostile to humans then? At all?"

Only shaking her head, Seiche chuckled. "Ach, no. Hard ta be hostile to humans, I think, when one feels as one. To feel grief that they were unable to do so before due ta long lives. Ta feel the joy tha' a human feels, the sadness. Feelin' the closeness. Both o' them were changed in ways tha' their Kin were not. And it was also luck as soon after, a wandering female knight came through and slew all others like them, Lindorms. Seeing that, and living as they did while experiencing human kindness, they became better. Both o' them are still out there, Charlie. Nessie in the Loch with the Kelpie obeying her will as she pleases, and Morag in her own Loch..."

Eyebrow raising, Charlie frowned in thought. "But why? Why use the Kelpie then?"

Giving him a look, Seiche tilted her head before raising her own eyebrow. "And what would you think would happen if the Ministry o' Magic knew there was Lindorm in Lochs? Instead o' a kelpie there?"

A grimace crossed the Weasley's face before he blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah... I can imagine how they would react. Best case would be to try and capture the two of them to shove into one of the dragon reserves. Another would be to just use an excuse to kill them and then harvest what they can as Lindorms are extremely valuable being extinct in Britain and rare in their native Scandinavia. Well, they would actually just line their pockets anyways." For several seconds, he looked out onto the Loch then looked at Seiche. "Personally, as long as they're not dangerous to normal people then I would think that they should just be left in place."

Softly smiling, Seiche walked close enough that her arm was against his. "And I like that idea personally, though that is also why I like you, Charlie Weasley." Later that night, she was stretching in her room while looking around. From her head, two knobby horns rose up out of her hair and a long, serpentine tail appeared as she headed to bed. On her face, there was a small smile on her face before she turned out the lights, her eyes softly glowing as she slipped back into bed while dreaming of a certain dragon handler.

 

[darthcourt10]

NotHimAgain

SkyeFire said:
...now, at some point in this story, Harry has to use "ACCIO GAZEBO!" The Laws of Comedy demand it.​

*-*-*-*
Lying down atop the grassy knoll, Renata stared down at the small structure. Then she turned to give Revina a perturbed stare. "What?" her friend asked, punctuating the question with a shrug.

"Why are we doing this?" Renata demanded. "It's just a little hut thing! What's so scary about that?" Revina's face twisted in horror, or maybe even outright affront.

"Just a little hut thing?" she hissed. "Just a little hut thing? That, my friend, is nothing less that the scariest, most lethal predator known to all of existence!"

"The hut?"

"It's a gazebo."

"Whatever. I refuse to believe that's some kind of horrible predator."

"Fine," Revina groused, standing. "I'll prove it to you. I hope you appreciate my sacrifice."

"Your what?"

Revina ignored her in favor of stomping down the hill, walking up the little steps at the side of the gazebo, and there, in the middle of the structure, standing and waving back at her. Then teeth sprouted from the lips of the roof and the gazebo crashed down on her. Renata bolted to her feet, shrieking at the top of her lungs, and nearly missed the two red-headed boys peeking out from behind a tree.

"Did we get her, Forge?"

"Can't say for certain, Gred. You know that she waits until we're certain to reveal her escape."

"I guess we should make certain, then."

"No need for that," Revina said cheerfully, standing behind them with her arms held wide in a "ta-da" position. It was almost impossible to tell it was her at first, so covered in dirt and mud as she was, but it was her indeed.

Stunned, Renata watched as she gathered "Gred" and "Forge" and walked back towards her, singing a disproportionately jaunty tune about death and the infliction of it upon others.

"--really nothing new, it's just something we like to do!" Revina skipped over, and offered her a redhead. "Here, could you hold on to this one for a minute? There's something that Regina's been talking about lately, I wanna try it--"

Renata punched her in the face with a cry of "YOU ASS!"

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts/Death_Sheep Crosspost 1

Um, right... have a crosspost from SV by Death_Sheep:
___________________________________________________________________________

Here's something that I came up with:
*-*-*-*-*

Will Armitage had been happy that he'd gotten a job with MACUSA's Department of Magical Creatures practically straight out of Ilvermorny. A guaranteed job for life, what did it matter that instead of doing fieldwork as he'd hoped, he was filing the biennial jackalope and hodag census reports? But then Blood Week happened, and he and several co-workers were "temporarily" loaned to Magical Law Enforcement as customs inspectors for the Port of New York, which posting was looking less "temporary" and more "permanent" as the years passed. Which wouldn't be so bad, except that their pay, benefits, and seniority were all DoMC and not DMLE scale, meaning that they were doing about twice the work of the deceased DMLE inspectors they'd replaced for about four-fifths of the pay.

And then the goddamn Canadians woke up Halifax. Will didn't care so much about the breach of the Statute of Secrecy; he and his friends were all sure the Statute's failure was inevitable. What he objected to was the way the Canadians hadn't even bothered with containing the magical energies they'd called up. If they'd been more careful up in Halifax, the overspill of their ritual wouldn't have caused the failure of the containment charms on the cage of illegally imported Cornish pixies he and his partner, Sarah West, had been transporting through the New York office. And if the ritual had been on any other day, that failure wouldn't have happened right in front of Undersecretary Harkaway, a man with a large ego, no sense of humor, and a vile temper.

Thus, Will and Sarah were now out in the wilds of West Virginia, somewhere near the No-Maj town of White Sulphur Springs, looking for where their immediate superior, Director Pickman, had reassigned them: Project Memory. "You sure we aren't lost?" asked Sarah.

Will looked down at the map, then up at the appallingly decrepit tar-paper shack built against the side of the hollow in the mountains they were standing in. "This is where the directions said to go. And you felt the wards when we came up the track, same as I did. I guess we knock?"

As they approached the shack, what Will had taken to be a lump of moldering fabric raised its head and revealed itself as an elderly bloodhound, which wuffed at them, before sinking back down into sleep. He knocked on the door. It opened on a chain, and a baleful blue eye peered through the crack. "Y'all cain't be missionaries or revenuers or No-Majs, the wards keep them out. Y'all got ID?"

Will and Sarah exchanged a glance, then pulled out their wallets. "Sarah West and William Armitage, Department of Magical Creatures, formerly on secondment to the DMLE Customs Inspection Service, and now attached to Project Memory. Would that be you?" asked Sarah.

The door shut, then opened fully, revealing an elderly white man with a passing resemblance to Samuel Clemens. "Figures that damnyankee Dick Pickman would send me more damnyankees. Yep, young lady, this is Project Memory, or at least the topside bit of it. Come in, both of you."

The wizard and witch entered the shack, which proved to be pretty much what they'd expected from the outside: one room with a dirt floor, a cast-iron stove, sway-backed metal bedstead, a rickety table and chairs, and a shelf at the back. The old man headed for this, saying, "I'm J.R. Carter, the site director of this little project." He pulled a wand and tapped the shelves in a sequence, causing the piece of furniture to swing away and reveal a stairwell descending into the mountainside. "Mind your step, the condensation can make things slippery."

As he led them down the steps, Carter kept talking, "Back in the 1950s, when the No-Maj government started building their bunker at the Greenbrier Hotel on the other side of White Sulphur Springs, MACUSA decided to take advantage of the construction to build this place. Back then, it was called Beta Site, and it was supposed to contain a complete back-up of all of MACUSA's records in case the No-Maj Cold War went hot and New York got blown to hell and gone. Amazin' what you can do with Gemino charms, really. The place wasn't quite MIB secret; a lot of people knew it existed, but very few knew where it was.

"Of course, with time, deaths, and retirements people largely forgot about this place's existence, especially after '89. But the routine kept runnin', the copies kept being made and filed automatically. Hell, not even Blood Week stopped it, even though the main archives in New York took a direct hit."

J.R., Will, and Sarah reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into a man-made cavern that made Will think of the warehouse scene at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, except with shelves full of boxes of documents replacing the crates. J.R.'s voice echoed in the immense space, "We've got copies of the complete records for every MACUSA department and agency except for MIB here, going right back to the Founding. This place remembers everything, including a lot of things some folks might prefer to be forgotten."

That got Will's attention. "What do you mean, 'prefer to be forgotten'?"

"Son, we've got the paperwork filed on every intervention we made in Abyssal incidents before Blood Week and after, and that's just the recent shit. Throw in the stuff about how MACUSA's handled slavery before the Civil War, what we did to the Native Americans and their magicals, our involvement in the Perry Expedition to Japan, every Obliviation of No-Maj governmental officials and military personnel....when the Statute falls, if this gets out, American magicals are not going to be smellin' like roses."

"So, what, we're supposed to go through these records and destroy anything embarrassing or incriminating?" Sarah asked, troubled.

"Oh, hell, no. Y'all are supposed to help preserve them," said J.R. "I'm getting too old to keep this place going all by myself, so I reached out to Dick Pickman for help. And he brought up the points that firstly, being honest with the No-Maj authorities is probably going to be the best policy; and secondly, there are people involved in MACUSA's leadership, like Harkaway and Kneedander, who are stupid enough to try to destroy the records when they finally realize the Statute's fall is inevitable."

"We're going to be going through these records and making damn sure that everything about everything MACUSA did to hide the Abyssals from the No-Majs is preserved, and hope that bein' honest means they don't decide to kill us all."

 

[darthcourt10]

SkyeFire Omake: Unnamed Destroyer meets Harry and Hoppou

Harry Leferts said:
Very, very hard.​

...you know....
It occurs to me that when we look at Hoppou, we see a cute little girl, mildly-brocon, has a thing for plushie fighter planes, squirts people who are being too silly, and just an all-round sweetheart. Yeah, sure, she's hella powerful, but she's so sweet.
Now, imagine some poor little DD, completely unrelated to the FoL, and whose previous experience with high-level Abyssals has generally been abusive and/or predatory (aside from Renita, who's the PTSD Poster Child). Imagine her encountering Hoppou for the very first time... 0.038sec before Hoppou tackle-hugs her with the abandon of the little girl she appears to be....
*-*-*-*


The nameless destroyer was feeling more than a little lost. Flagship had collapsed in hysterics and been whisked away by all the other ships that appeared to be her long-lost sisters, but the destroyer was fairly certain their intentions were benign -- Flagship had seemed happy to see them, at least, and there'd been too many tears all around for her to suspect some kind of nefarious plot.
Which was a good thing, because if there were such a plot, she would have to do something. Which would probably be "go splat like an AA shell against a battleship's belt armor," but... well, for Flagship, she'd do it anyway.

...wow, her survival instincts had really gone down the drain since meeting Flagship. Was this how that "loyalty" thing she'd heard about worked? How did anyone survive feeling like this?

Well, more importantly, everyone seemed to have forgotten about her in the excitement. Which suited her fine -- crowds were scary, especially with all those Abyssals and shipgirls (and what was up with that?). There were still some humans around, but instead of screaming, running, or attacking, they were acting like she was nothing out of the ordinary.

But, she was getting awfully hungry. And going hunting in some other Abyssal's territory was unwise, at best. Maybe she could find some refuse to scavenge?

...and now, her IFF was pinging an Un-ID'd Demon-level flagship, directly behind her, at point-blank range. Apparently they hadn't forgotten about her after all.

She turned around, trying to ready a torpedo salvo without being obvious... and stopped dead in utter confusion. And then called for a confirmation from all sensor operators.

Every optical director and lookout said she was looking at a human -- between Cruiser and Destoyer apparent ages, not too tall, messy dark hair, corrective lenses over his optics. Sonar confirmed human noises, and no machinery. But the radio room insisted that the IFF signal was being emitted from him -- the range was so close she was getting different DF fixes from her bow and stern aerials.

And... he was practically radiating something... something she could only compare to those few times when Flagship had actually forgotten her nightmares and smiled, and given her a hug or a treat. This "human flagship" just... felt like that. Like someone who'd give hugs, and treats, and... and maybe make nightmares stay away?

He reached out, and oh scrap she'd gotten lost in thought too long he was close enough to touch and whatwashegonnadotoher and and and what is that wonderful smell it smells like food!?!?

"Hi, I'm Harry. And you look hungry. Scone? It's fresh, I just got a plate from Rose-san's tea cart."

He was smiling and nicely and it had to be a trick and this was a bad idea but ohsohungryanditsmellssogoodCHOMP!

...she stared at where the Yummy Thing had been nipped off a hair's breadth short of his fingertips, and swallowed hard, for more than one reason. "....sorry."

He... didn't get mad. Just smiled more, and tossed her the remains of the Yummy Thing (she snapped it out of the air by pure instinct. "No problem. I'm accustomed to feeding hungry destroyers. Here." Another Yummy Thing appeared in his hand as if by magic.

She plucked it from his hand with her lips, this time, and made sure to chew it slowly and savor the taste, even though it made her empty fuel bunkers roar for more--

She actually felt herself blush. "...excuse me."

The Human flagship just chuckled, and patted her on the head (and whyowhy did that feelsoGOOD?!?!?). "You must be even hungrier than I thought. Here, you can have the rest of these, and I'll take you to Hoshou-oba's place and we can get you a full meal." And his hands were full of Yummy Things, and it was... probably... bad manners that she was licking the crumbs off his hands?

Then she followed him (anywhere!) to a place that had more Yummy Things, and different Yummy Things, and there was more than she could ever eat in her life, and she was sure if she sank right now she'd be happier than any sunk Abyssal ever.

She was trying to decide if she could cram in just one more scoop of the Cold Yummy Stuff Human-flagship-Harry called "Eye Scream" (why? It didn't scream when she ate it, and the scoops only looked vaguely like eyeballs), when Human-flagship-Harry tapped her on the fluke and pointed. "I think someone's here to see you."

"Hmmm?" She turned around (feeling more than a bit bloated), and--

She'd forgotten. She'd forgotten she was in a stranger's territory. She'd forgotten to hide, to creep, to be careful. She'd let the Yummy Things make her forget all the Rules For Staying Alive.

And while she was pretty sure Human-flagship-Harry didn't mean her any harm... he couldn't protect her from this.

This... was an Installation Princess. She'd never seen one in person, but her Abyssal heart could not mistake it for anything else. Small, pale. Enormous, glowering. Tiny soft-covered hands. Hundreds ship-breaking tools, fit to dismantle battleships. White coat. A harbor littered with small ice floes, surrounded by snow-covered lands and towering craggy peaks. A pleasant cool breeze. A howling Arctic wind that could cut through armor as easily as flesh, and leave any ship trapped in leagues of ice for eternity.

And like the great beast that lurked at the heart of the Abyss, it lunged. She never had a chance to even think about dodging -- the harbor enveloped her, the docks swallowed her, and the limitless ship-scrapping equipment of an Installation pressed against her hull from every angle--

"Po?" Hoppou blinked at the suddenly-comatose destoyer hanging limply in her arms. "Big Brother? Why did destroyer-chan faint?"

Harry scratched his head. "Dunno? Maybe she ate too much? Or... maybe you just hugged her a little too hard? Even Abyssals have to breath, imotou-chan."

Hoppou blushed brightly above the high collar of her coat. "Hoppou will take good-destroyer-chan to Renita, so they can nap together!" She hoisted the whale-like Abyssal over her head, a sight that made Harry snicker behind his hand. "And when they wake up, Hoppou will start fixing and upgrading!"

*-*-*-*

Harry Leferts said:
This... this is just damn perfect.​

yukicrewger2 said:
And now for something completely different?

Seriously, a Monty Python gag?​

Well, HP is British. I mean, if HL didn't make various hockey or Tim Hortons jokes, we'd start questioning his Authentic Candianness, wouldn't we?

Harry Leferts said:
Wasn't there an omake like that?​

Yes.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

"Hwawawawa! Come on, Nanodesu!"

Sighing with a somewhat amused look on her face, Tenryuu looked down at her daughter who was trying to get them all to hurry. "Ami-Chan, calm down and relax a bit. We still got time before they arrive yet." Her expression took on some fond exaspiration though as she shook her head as she muttered some. "Granted, I am not ready for why you're having issues calming down."

It was telling that Inazuma's cheeks pinkened which pointed out that she had heard her mother's mutters. Looking away, the Destroyer pouted some. "Kaa-San, Toby-Kun is just a friend, that's all."

A grin on her face, Ikazuchi poked her twin's cheek. "Oh? Just a friend, hmm?" When Inazuma slapped it away, her grin widened before she put her hands behind her head. "But you should just calm down some, Ami-Chan. After all, we'll get there soon enough, rely on us some more!"

Only shaking her head at the interaction between her two biological daughters, Tenryuu rolled her eye. 'Yeah, Ami getting a boyfriend is something that I have not been looking forward to. Especially one who can breath fire considering her... tendencies.' Hearing a grumble though, her attention turned to the other Light Cruiser, which she raised an eyebrow at. "Something wrong, Tatsuta?"

Rapidly blinking as everyone focused on her, the summoned shipgirl laughed weakly. "Its nothing."

Suddenly, Akatsuki spoke up. "Oh! I think its because she had another spar with Matsuda-San this morning and lost? Maybe?" Frowning, she tilted her head to the side. "I mean, it makes me feel pretty out of sorts when I lose. Though I still don't know why she was so red when he was pinning her."

Inazuma's eyebrows shot up and she looked towards Tatsuta. "Oh, that explains it!" Nodding seriously, she frowned. "Losing would do that to me too."

Just shaking her head, Akatsuki frowned. "Not to mention that she can't get a rematch for some time. I mean, he was called away just as she was about to tell him something. I think that he's gone for a week or so."

Catching sight of Tatsuta's brittle smile, Tenryuu hummed some before leaning towards her and dropping her voice to a whisper. "So, let me guess... he still does not know that you're a shipgirl? And you were hoping that seeing you on your hull during Fleet Week would help him realize that?"

All Tatsuta did was hang her head with a cloud of gloom over it. "Hai..."

Lips still twitching as it was amusing to see Tatsuta so out of sorts, Tenryuu considered teasing her about having a boyfriend. In the end though, she decided not to and spoke in a louder voice. "Well, maybe one day you'll be able to confess the truth."

Not that Tenryuu wasn't going to tease her at all.

Giving her sister a glare, Tatsuta was about to say something when Ikazuchi looked up at her with a grin on her face and a twinkle in her eye. "Wait, you like him, Tatsuta-Oba!?" Pounding a fist into her palm, her grin widened. "So that's why you keep trying to talk with him and challenging him to fights, huh?"

Eyes widening, Tatsuta waved her hands around. "That is, I am not, we're-"

She was interrupted as Akatsuki held her hands together. "Oh wow! You love him? That is sooo romantic!" Then the Destroyer frowned slightly. "Though I'm not sure how lady-like challenging him to fights is..."

Mouth opening, the Light Cruiser didn't get the chance to say anything as Inazuma spoke up. "Um, I don't know? I mean, there's manga where that happens and stuff. Like how in the old Ranma 1/2 ones you got the Amazons fighting the men and giving them the Kiss of Marriage when they get beaten by them. Though..." Frowning, she glanced at her red faced aunt. "I guess that would make her a tsundere? Maybe?"

Verniy frowned and gave a small nod. "There are women in Russia who like strong men and might challenge them to sparring. Though I never thought that Tatsuta-Oba-San would be one."

Blinking, Ikazuchi frowned at her. "Why not? I mean, it sort of fits? Kind of?" With her eyebrows furrowing, she turned to Inazuma. "Though I don't think that she can be counted as being a tsundere, Ami-Chan."

Now frowning herself, Inazuma gave her sister a look. "Why now? I mean, she's not a Yandere. Or much of one, I don't think."

Almost as one, the four Destroyers stopped and thought before turning to give Tatsuta a searching look. Her face now fire engine red, Tatsuta sputtered. "You, I, we... I am not a Yandere!"

With another shared look, the Destroyers nodded. "Yeah, she's not the type."

Eyebrow twitching, Tatsuta facepalmed as they began to discuss what sort of dere she was, as well as what they should do in regards to Matsuda. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Tenryuu who was looking away and coughing suspiciously. "... This is for the teasing I gave you over Drake-San, isn't it."

Head tilted to the side, Tenryuu smiled. "Ara, ara, would I ever do that~?"

Pinching her nose, the halo wearing Light Cruiser counted down in her mind while reminding herself that she was not going to kill her older sister. No matter how much better it would make her feel.

It was still a close thing.

Upon reaching their destination though, the group found Goto there already with Kongou beside him. At seeing Tatsuta's still blushing face, the British born returnee smirked, which made the Light Cruiser go more red in response. But rather then say anything, Kongou turned to the Destroyers with them, in particular one. "So, Inazuma-Chan, are you ready to meet your friend once more, Dess?"

Nodding, Inazuma was practically bouncing in place. "Hai! I can't wait to see Toby-Kun again! We've been talking back and forth via email and video chat. He's supposed to stay here for a few years..." A frown then crossed her face as she looked around. "Um, he's going to be safe here, right?"

Goto just smiled down at her and chuckled some. "Both him and his father will be perfectly safe here. Especially as soon enough we'll have a few guards for them. That said, they will be mostly staying in Yokosuka and from what I have been told, the Magical Diet has all but given up not just enforcing their rules here but also keeping the area under observation. Just remember to not shove the truth into their faces."

Quickly saluting, Inazuma smiled. "Hai! Just pretend that they're aliens from an alternate dimension!"

Shaking her head, Tenryuu snorted some. "What sort of world are we living in where that not only becomes a good enough excuse, but one that also is readily accepted? Seriously, this is the sort of shit that you could not make up back when I was a teen and expect people to find it believable."

Her lips curling into a smile, Kongou gave a chuckle. "An interesting one, Dess. Which are always the best ones."

Even as Tenryuu shook her head at that, Goto gave a snort. Out of the corner of his eye though, he spotted a car heading towards them and waited. It soon reached them and the guard stepped out and opened the door to reveal the two guests from Saint Brendan's. Stepping out, Elric saluted Goto with it being returned. "Chief Engineer Elric Dragonson, reporting Admiral!'

With a nod, Goto held out his hand. "Chief, I am Admiral Goto, welcome to Yokosuka. Hopefully your stay will be good."

Grinning slightly which showed his fangs, Elric shook the offered hand. "Honestly, I'm sure that it will be." Slowly looking around, he stretched his wings some before nodding. "Hopefully the knowledge and experience I have can help. I mean, considering how much more advanced your ships are compared to Thunderchild, bless her soul..."

Simply smiling, Goto shook his head. "I'm actually sure that it will be a great help, especially as you are one of the experts in combining both magic and technology..."

Meanwhile, as Goto and Elric spoke, Toby blinked as he got a flying missile knocking into him. "Toby-Kun!"

Rapidly blinking, he looked down at Inazuma and grinned. "Ami! Er..." Then he furrowed his eyebrows. "Um, or is it Inazuma? Or Ami-Chan?"

Chuckling, she just smiled and shook her head with a slight blush on her face. "You can call me Ami, Toby-Kun. Or Inazuma, no need for 'Chan'." Ignoring the raised eyebrows, Inazuma continued. "I'm just happy that you're here!"

Toby flushed a bit as he rubbed the back of his neck while his tail swished from side to side and his wings fluttered a bit. "Um, thanks, Ami. Its sort of neat being here actually." Scratching his cheek, a small curl of smoke escaped from one nostril as he looked around in interest. "I mean, I've never really been off the island before in my life. Well, besides that wedding, and that was it."

A frown on her face, Inazuma narrowed her eyes some. "And that's just not fair." When Toby shrugged in a 'What can you do?' sort of fashion, she shook her head. However, there was a growl and she looked down at his stomach. "..."

Weakly chuckling, the dragon-boy smiled shakingly. "Sorry, sort of hungry after the flight..."

Looking at him, Inazuma frowned for a moment before smiling. "That's okay! Kaa-San! I'll take Toby-Kun to go and get some food, okay?"

Just glancing at Goto who nodded while Toby's father smirked, Tenryuu shrugged some. "Sure, and I think that I know where you want to go. Come along, you bunch..."

Practically skipping as she held the rough, partially scaled hand in hers, Inazuma lead Toby along as he spoke up. "By the way, Ami? Did you grow a bit? I mean, you look a year older at least?"

Giggling, Inazuma gave a small nod. "Hai! Both Aki-Chan and myself as well as Akatsuki-Chan got some modifications. I got some Hedgehogs now as well as better AA..."

The two chatted while walking along towards where there were some food. Granted, Toby was still unsure how he should react to Inazuma. Most girls back on the island were somewhat unsure about him or other dragon-blooded because of the fact that they were part dragons made some of their instincts remind them that they were near an apex predator. Inazuma though, just smiled brightly and pulled him in close. Not to say that he disliked it as he found that she was rather cute, but it still confused him...

 

[darthcourt10]

WickedestCard

So, this is the other side of my Challenger Deep Princess snippet. I tried to give her an air of a lonely, naive though good-natured noblewoman that's never been out in the world.
------

Challenger Deep Part 2


Deep under the surface of the ocean, below where even the might if the Sun's light fails to reach drifted a pale figure with silent and solemn grace. Down at the bottom of the world where little lived and even less traveled to was where this particular being called home and she was going on a simple task of trying to think up a meal. Day to day life was long and nondescript mostly consisting of her looking for sustenance and materials though thankfully she did require much.


If one asked, Challenger Deep Princess would probably have difficulty even putting into words what day was but still she remained dutiful to her self set tasks. Her sonar and mental capabilities thankfully made traveling through the Deep a trivial task but that did not mean she could be lax.


Then in the back of her mind, her sensors picked up something odd. Large, heavy and dense but she could not recognize its shape off hand. It was far at large to be one of the more numerous creatures she would encounter and it was far smaller than a Hunter or Many-Limb. Then, she FELT it. A IFF was coming through, faint and distant but she felt it clear as the strange minerals she sometimes found.


'Guests!' the Princess thought to herself with some excitement, 'Oh I've never have had guests, I must get something ready for them!'


With more diligence and focus Challenger did an about face and started heading back to her little cove to gather items. She would take out the best Brine Eel and mollusks she had in her storage and prepare them, after she couldn't very well serve her every day food for such a monumental occasion.


'Oh, how rude of me. How could I try and get things ready without inviting the guests! They probably don't know of my little dwelling so I'll need to guide them.' the pale figure realized as she suddenly stopped. Thinking for but a moment as she needed to change some things around, she let out a low hum before she used one of her gifts.


Challenger Deep Princess couldn't see as she was blind, though her sonar and sense more than made up for that but she was most proud of her singing. She knew that those large Singers also appreciated her 'voice' as the often 'sang' back but never came nearer. Still, this one was different, interwoven with her normal melancholic notes and rhythm was how to find her, an alluring touch that she had worked one for so long was finally used. Still singing her slow song she returned to her task.


'Yes, yes, this eel is perfect and it should still be fresh. The brine did a good job. Hm...perhaps these...no these crawlers are far too small. I can't serve those' her thoughts raced as she sang, thankfully the distance will buy her time.


As the raven haired Princess made up her mind and was part way through preparing her meals she noticed something and straightened up and blinking. Then she her song trailed off, growing quieter and quieter until she stopped singing altogether.


'No...no I guess I won't need the larger ones...it'd be a shame for the eel to go to waste though...I'll go get my guests in moment,' she thought to herself sadly. After a few minutes she left her meal to cook as she headed out.


It took a couple hours to reach and find the two other Abyssals that she had invited down. She looked sadly at their crushed and mangled hulls which she gingerly grabbed and floated back to her cove. Seeing as she had some time before her meal would be done she got to work to bury the others. She quickly dug two graves through the sediment and looked around. After all it would be rude to leave them unmarked and soon she found two pieces of metal that she had gathered from a wreck she was planning to save for something. However, she was thinking that her guests would prefer having them for their makers.


After she finished burying the two other Abyssals she turned back to go eat her meal. Had one looked at the markers the would have seen she wrote in her own strange words "Friends and Guests".


Right next to those two was another single grave with a larger and more intricate maker.
---------

Any thoughts, questions or suggestions? I'm quite a noob at making an Abyssal let alone a Princess class.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts Omake: Harry's elementary was not normal

I was bored and going over some old omakes when I re-read @RBomber's stuff. Especially when Hoppou's class was introduced and someone commented that Harry's class was normal, so have one of my own...
_____________________________________

Harry... was nervous. It was his first day of actual school since being adopted by his mother. Sure, he had gotten used to Japanese at this point and could speak it, though with an accent, but still! It was sort of scary and a part of him was screaming that it would be just like with the Dursleys. Harry hadn't really wanted to come, but Nagato, his Mum (and that still filled him with warmth, he had a real Mum now!) had said he had to come to an actual school.

And now he was in front of a class introducing himself.

Swallowing, Harry bowed as his mother and Big Sisters had taught him. "H-hello, I'm Potter Nagato Harry. I'm from England and my Kaa-San is the Battleship Nagato. Please take care of me."

When he stood up, he barely hid the nervousness from the shakes he had. But a glance at his teacher, who had oddly greyish skin and yellow eyes, calmed him. A feeling of peace washed over him and Miss Wade smiled before she spoke in a voice that seemed to be heard both inside and outside his head. "Thank you, Potter-San. Now take your seat..."

Once he sat down, he watched as a pink haired girl walked up and stood before the class. Part of Harry did wonder about her red eyes and odd hair ornaments. Sort of looked like horns for some reasons "Hello, I'm Wade Kaede, Sensei is my mother and she adopted me and my sisters while getting us out of a bad situation. Please take care of me."

Kaede gave an unsure smile to her adoptive mother before she walked over to a desk and sat down. To her surprise, Harry gave her a smile and she smiled shyly back. For some odd reason he felt like she would understand a bit about his past...

Their attention though was then grabbed by a young boy confidently walking to the front of the room. A smile, as if he knew more then most people, was on his face. Bowing, he chuckled some. "I am Xanatos Alexander, son of Xanatos David, CEO of Xanatos Enterprises. My Otou-San believed that I should see more of the world from the perspective of others outside our clique. And I hope to become friends with some of you."

Much to Harry's confusion, he sat not too far from Harry and shook his hand. The various introductions continued though.

"I am Higarashi Kikyou, my mother is a Priestess at a family Shrine and my father is a successful business man."

"I am Inutaisho Takaru, I am Highrashi-San's cousin and while our Tou-Sans may not get along, we do."

"Name's Urashima Jiro! And beside me is my half-sisters Urashima Shino-" One girl with part of her face covered waved. "And Aoyama Kei."

As it turned out, while slightly lonely, Harry did enjoy his time in elementary, especially after Natsumi became his best friend. Granted, both Alexander and Kaede became close friends as well. Alex even stated that he would be looking forward to seeing him as an Admiral in the future and did not mock it once.

Though that butler of his did make Harry feel like there was something off with him....

 

[darthcourt10]

NotHimAgain

Melancholia

Sayaka sat cross-legged on the floor, chin cupped in her hands. After the fiasco in the pet store, Harry and Natsumi had hustled her to Natsumi's house, since that was closer than the naval base. It was also why she was wearing some of Natsumi's older clothes, which her upperclassman had outgrown as of late, while her own were dried out.

"Is everything alright down here, Akechi-san?" Sayaka looked up into the eyes of the shrine's head priestess and Natsumi's aunt, Ono Haru. The woman was holding a tea tray, with two steaming cups of tea on it. Looking over her shoulder, Sayaka found the two who had brought her here drinking their own tea and watching her. They were subtle about it, she'd give them that, but she had grown used to feeling eyes on her wherever she went.

"Fine, thank you," she said anyways, accepting one of the cups. Taking the last cup as her own, Ono-san sat down beside her.

"Are you sure?" she asked as Sayaka sipped hers melancholically. "Harry-chan tells me that you were standing right next to the fish tanks when they broke. It must have been surprising." Sayaka considers her words, then sniffs.

"Fine, really," she says, trying to wave the older woman off. "Weird stuff happens around me all the time." Like the time she somehow jumped up onto the family's roof. Or like the time that she and Momo fell through the ice on a frozen pond into a pit of warm pillows. Or how…

The tea that she was swallowing seemed to curdle as she did, and Sayaka had to grit her teeth, clamp her mouth shut to force it down and not vomit. A warm hand came to rest on her back, and she looked up to see Ono-san looking down at her, a gentle expression on her face.

"It's okay," she said, "you don't have to drink it if you're feeling sick."

"No-no, it's okay, really," Sayaka said, quickly trying to bluster her way past the priestess's concern. "Just—went down the wrong tube, okay?"

"If you say so," Ono-san replied, and a moment later the warm comfort of her hand was removed, leaving Sayaka's back cold for a fleeting moment before the heat rushed to replace it.

The room was silent, but for Harry and Natsumi's whispered conversation in the back of the room.
-----

"Are you sure it was a car accident?" Harry asked. Natsumi nodded grimly.

"That's the story that we heard at school, at least," she confirmed. "But there's a lot of pieces missing, I think. Plus, when she came back to school and everyone was offering condolences and stuff, every time someone mentioned it she just drew back. It's like she doesn't believe that's what happened." Something was niggling at the back of Harry's mind—wasn't there something weird going on back around when her Sayaka's sister died? Something to do with…

"Akechi," he said thoughtfully. "I think that Tatsuya-san brought up that name once or twice. It was around that time he… He asked me about curse tablets, that was it!"

"You think something happened to Akechi-san around then?" Natsumi asked. "Like, was she involved with what happened?"

"I'm… not sure I should ask, honestly," Harry admitted. "Tatsuya-san can be kind of closed-off, sometimes."

"Huh… that reminds me," Natsumi said, "Do you know how Reiko-san's been doing?"

"Besides the point."

"Yeah, I guess so…"
-----

"Why do we have all these car manuals and books about Geas?" Reiko called from the storage shed, where she was reorganizing boxes filled with old volumes.

"Airu!" Chiaki screeched, "Stop ordering weird crap online!"
-----

Eventually, Sayaka finished her tea. Her clothes dried and she changed back, walking out to the stairs at the front of the shrine.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Ono-san asked. She, Harry, and Natsumi were standing behind her. Sayaka turned back and grinned.

"Sure!" she said. "We come here every New Years, so I know the way home okay."

Harry and Natsumi looked back and forth between each other, and Harry stepped forward, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"Akechi-san," he said as he approached her, "Would you mind if I gave you my number? I understand if you don't want to talk about things right now, but…" he shrugged. "If you ever need someone to listen, I'm here."

Sayaka scrutinized him carefully—he seemed honest. "Sure," she said curtly, pulling her own phone out. Seconds later, Harry Potter-Nagato was on her contact list, and her phone was back in her pocket. She turned back towards the stairs, pausing briefly.

"Th-thanks," she finally said. "For, you know, the tea and everything. And the… yeah. Thanks."

And then she was heading down the stairs, trying to decide how to apologize to Momo today.
-----

Well what do you think, sirs?

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K

Well, to keep things ticking over while we wait, here's something that's probably in need of being split up anyway;

Also, I wish I had VC4.

*-*-*-*

For Kogamaru, sitting at the head of the table, even after nigh on eight years, still felt weird. For much of his youth, his place had always been the far end position of the long table in the smaller of the Manor's western-style dinning rooms.

Now days however, Kogamaru sat in the seat that was once normally occupied by his father on the rare occasions he was in Yamainutaira, while Ryougamaru occupied the opposite end of the table. One day though, Ryougamaru would no doubt have to give up that honored seat, and secede it to the 9th Koshaku's heir, just as tradition had required his own father to do so when Kogamaru's birth had secured Tsumemaru's line of succession.

Currently Jiroumaru and his wife (Kogamaru's Aunt Shikishi), also sat to the Koshaku's left, although that was more because of the informality of the lunch and the space needed for the two. Technically a more formal Main Family lunch would have been served in one of the more traditional dinning rooms with everybody kneeling on tatami mats. But with the obvious difficulties that presented to his wheelchair bound uncle, casual family meals around the higher western-style dinning table in one of the smaller and less ostentatious rooms of the manor had been the norm in the family for decades, barring more important occasions when they used one of the proper halls.

Jiroumaru and Shikishi normally sat on Kogamaru's right, and if things were casual enough, Ryogamaru simply took the spot at his left so there was less constantly having to pass things back up and down the length of the long lacquered table normally meant for seating thrice their number.

Today however, Kogamaru had acquiesced to at least something mildly resembling formality, and annoyingly subtle traditions for the sake of respect. It's the little things that are often a necessity for blunting the immovability of his stances on certain elements of clan politics. Today, the spot on his right, for that of the position of honor, belonged to-

"Obaa-sama," placatingly, Kogamaru holds up a hand to pause the his venerable grandmother and okami elder as the retread the same points of contention for the third time this meal. "I agree with you. On many of those points even. But I just cannot see it in the long term interests of the clan to forge a tie of marriage with the Shugoshin, especially through a union of myself and the heiress."

Quietly the old woman tuts, causing the heads of the other three members of the table, and even some of the serving stuff to swivel in anticipation for the responding verbal tennis-serve. Brushing back a lock of hair that though as white as Kogamaru's, Hokubu no Ashihime (née Mayugeokami) has a lack of luster and gleam that hints at her age, the combined with the lines on her face, hint at the weight and heaviness of many of those years.

"What is it that has you so off-put at least?" Asks with the elderly okami woeful resignation. "Is it still this notion of love? Even leaving aside the benefits such a union could bring to the clan, I thought you got along with the Shugoshin girl."

Kogamaru notes the mild twitch of one of Ashihime's Lupine ears. A tell that the young Koshaku has come to realize over the decades, is not just a sign of irritation, but usually irritation born of caring worry. Albeit, of a kind displayed through actions mixed with the undertones and lenses of aristocratic nobility and a lifetime of formality with it's roots in an era long since passed.

"It's more than just that Obaa-sama. I get along with Ichika-san, this is true, and the Shugoshin may be one of the more notable Okami clans to reopen dialogue with us in recent decades, but even if we weren't just friends, tying ourselves to the Clan of the Wolf Guardians may not be so advantageous as it initially seems."

The aged she-wolf gives a dignified sniff of disbelief. "I see. So I suppose I shall have to be the bearer of bad news to the rest of the Elders and say that we have once more misjudged the infamous pickiness of the Honored Grandson."

Kogamaru sighs with exasperation, dropping most of his airs of formality to slump in his seat wearily "Obaa-chan, please. We're arguing in circles again."

"You worry too much about the clans perception as 'being progressive'," counters Ashihime tiredly, and crossing her arms across the front of her embroidered kimono in a way that would have made Kogamaru sit up straight and stutter when he was a child. Kogamaru is no longer a child however, and for the last eight years, has had more reason than ever to stand and hold his ground on issues he knows are worth debating.

"These things are still the norm for clans as ancient as ours," continues the old matriarch. "And it is not as though this would be a marriage between two teens who barely know each other. At it's coldest to such detractors, it's a prudent maneuver to mend the decades of separation between our two houses, which both politically savvy scions have chosen to go along with for the benefits of both clans."

If there's one thing the young Koshaku has always been thankful for, and come to appreciate as he's become old enough to understand the reasons behind it, it's that any marriage proposals that make it to him through the marchioness-dowager, or at least earn her support, are only ever between himself and women that he knows. Never has Ashihime attempted to play matchmaker between himself and a complete stranger, no matter how many advantageous bachelorettes have joined the range of available options, especially as the Hokubu reputation has slowly recovered over the last two decades.

Unfortunately, the reason why one of the few things Tsumemaru and Ashihime ever agreed with each other on was a refusal to discuss marriage or engagement proposals when he was a child, and to hold off until Kogamaru was old enough to understand and have a say, is also part of the reason why he refutes the idea that a politically motivated union with the Shugoshin Okami could be as good of an idea as it might first seem.

"Obaa-chan, Ichika-san and I get along well. Many of her cousins get along with us or are at least indifferent to us and the clan politics of a bygone Head. And it is true that Ichika's mother is the one now in charge, and that most of that generation has cooled in their feelings towards the past. But Ichika's grandfather and many of the other Shugoshin elders still hold us accountable for Oji-san getting Ichika's uncles killed. Masumasaru-san does a good job of hiding it, but I know he hates me, and would still consider the fued between our clans to be in effect if his daughter hadn't recinded it when Ichika joined the JNHRO."

"More strained clans have made such marriages in the past," points out Ashihime. "Sometimes even to specifically repair recent breaks or slights in once powerful alliances such as these."

The elderly okami then grimaces. "And with such history between the older members of either clan, while the younger generation of the Shugoshin, would such a union not be personally advantageous to you either? You grow your base of younger supporters, while your opposition among the older generation and more conservative elders ends up split between three different camps; those who can work together, and two who can't. Not that it would be that extreme. Whatever distaste Masumasaru and his ill have for you, it obviously isn't enough to get in the way of their capability to work with you or endanger Ichika-san's status as heiress for doing so."

"They are valuable allies, I will admit," acquiesces Kogamaru. "And the shake up of inter-clan politics and power blocks could be useful to myself and Ichika. Getting the clout to act with freedom, and undermining the weight of our more conservative factions without spurning them in either clan, is something we have both mused on in the past. But it is also something we have realized cannot be solved by any quick and easy method of centralising power to ensure our agendas, when we consider what those agendas are and what is coming."

"You speak of the anticipated fall of the Statute of Secrecy?" asks the elderly she-wolf dryly.

There is a certain tone to Ashihime's voice, whenever this topic comes up. She was old enough to remember the wanning years of the Bakumatsu, the Boshin War, and then the decades of slow decay of rights that followed. Her marriage to his grandfather was from the start, an extremely savvy move by Ezomaru, helping prop up and unify the power of two great okami houses, when everything was slipping away from everyone unprepared for the monkey's paw deals that would be made over the course of the Meiji Restoration. It was also part of his vision toward preparing the Hokubu for a transition from being dynastic land owners, to more of a aristocratic political nobility, by marrying his son to a daughter of an already powerful clan, that was known for the wisdom and intrigues of it's members in both the preceding Imperial Court and the nascent Magical Diet.

Unfortunately for Ashihime, she had bore witness far too often, to what happened when people either flouted the Statute, in spirit if not with outright brazenness, and had also seen her fair share of periods when people thought it wouldn't stick. Even now, while academically and logically, his grandmother knew the Statute was all but doomed to fail at this point, and that the Magical Diet was now in it's death throes, it was as if there was a small part of her still sometimes expecting for things to revert back. Afterall, such promises and pedictio lbs had always failed in the past. Foreign intervention, domestic greed, the universal hunger for power by anyone once they gain power, and then simply painful tragedy, had always been the downfall of yokai fortunes in the past. Why would it be any different this time?

Bringing his mind back to the topic at hand though, Kogamaru takes a sip of tea, and then gestures with his cup to emphases his points.

"I would not refuse any member of the Clan who wished to marry a son or daughter of the Shugoshin. But a marriage between the main families, is potentially a tight-rope I do not find myself keen to walk. What on paper may be a plethora of gains, may instead produce a quagmire of politicking and factionism that would be consuming enough to render those gains to nought. It is also difficult enough to play the game of give-and-take with just one camp occasionally opposed to me, but still generally unified in their consideration for the good will of the clan and Yamainutaira. The Shugoshin will have their own lands and businesses to consider, and Masumasaru rather unwisely put a worrying number of their eggs in Tokyo related baskets-turned-time bombs, that Ichika and her mother have been attempting to defuse ever since."

"Could that not be turned to our benefit?" offers Ashihime. "Everyone knows Shugoshin are looking elsewhere for new suppliers and buyers, ever since many of their partners started converting herbology estates into agricultural developments to offset rationing, and the Auror Corps began to occasionally default on payments for potions. Is that not a perfect oppotunity to fuel the demand for more farms here, to cater to Karuidoko's refugee resettlement programs."

"Possibly," admits Kogamaru. "But I fear what it could be percieved as in retrospect."

The old she-wolf raises an eyebrow. "And for what reason could you have to fear any sort of negative connotation in future?"

Kogamaru grimaces. "We are in all likelihood, more ready for the fall of the Statute than the Shugoshin, and could easily hold a position of economic and political dominance over them once it comes to pass. The problem is, I don't believe such maneuvering will be to the benefit of the clan in the long term. Not for it's image and perception. Even if it weren't for the fact that my choices set a standard for the rest of us, the younger generations from both within and outside the clan will have a greater tendency to view this through the lenses of modern sensibilities. As will the muggles when they will inevitably seek to learn of the major figures and factions behind their magical history."

"Arranged marriages are not totally unheard of in the modern age," counter Ashihime. "Even today, nomajs still marry to secure ties of business I believe."

"Yes, but very, very rarely," points out Kogamaru. "And such events are usually to solidify bonds of economic gain and inheritance. The political and noble nature of the Hokubu and Shugoshin adds a 'fascinating' extra level of color and scrutiny to anybody unfamiliar with such traditional powerplays. Considering the clan's already spotted past, I do not wish to later be percieved as somehow attempting to subsume or arrange ourselves to earn the debts of other clans that are not ready to survive the upcoming transition of eras as well as we shall."

"Personally, I would think the Shugoshin would have more to gain, and at a risk greater to their image than ours," sighs the okami elder. "Even without the hit's they've taken over recent years, and inspite of out diminished renown, we are stil of the peerage. A marriage would be granting them a level of legitimacy they've never been offically by the Diet, but to do so through the Hokubu would draw no small number of odd looks and questions."

The young Koshaku shakes his head. "But it's a loss of prestige for us. You have to remember Obaa-chan, people don't see marriage alliances the same way these days, especially in such troubled times. To arrange a marriage these days, after so many years of me speaking against them, would reek of not just hypocrisy, but potentially weakness and fear. People will wonder why, and with the magical economy already in the toilet, the Diet practically toothless these days, and magical Japan only a few steps away from Balkanising itself depending on how the upcoming talks with the rest of the Hokkaido communities go, it will be all to easy to for many wonder if this is a preemptive maneuver or sign of something else."

Pointedly, but very carefully so as not to upset, Kogamaru lays out his examples. "It will look all too similar to what history has seen before. You must admit, we Hokubu have a bad habit of arranging timely strategic marriages for the Main Family, just before the cultural apple-carts of the era tend to get violently upended. Hiiojii-sama did the same for you and Ojii-san, and you both did it for Otou-sama and Okaa-sama."

Ashihime purses her lips tightly at the mention of those troubled times. Her own marriage under the shadow of the Bonin War, and then the marriage of her eldest son on the eve of hostilities in China. A pair of events that thanks to her husband, would begin a straining of her and Tsumemaru's relationship that never did truly mend.

Finally, the elderly okami matriarch acquiesces to her grandsons ever unshakeable refusal to be swayed. With a tired sigh, Ashihime looks to gain another decade or two in a single breath. "While I do not agree with all your fears, I cannot refute all of your logic entirely. I shall pass word of your refusal to consider a marriage proposal on to the other Elders."

Feeling somewhat guilty, Kogamaru reaches out and gives his grandmother's had an apologetic touch. "If it's any comfort Obaa-chan, my reason for my refusal is not only based in avoidance of negative outcomes, and complications in clan politics and dynamics. I do have positive and advantageous reasons for leaving things as they are for now as well."

Curious, Ashihime raises an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Can I trust you to keep a secret?"

The Hokubu Elder nods.

"Ichika already has a beau. Nothing has been officially announced, but I know that she hopes he will one day ask for her mother's approval."

Ashihime looks at him with mild surprise and shock. "Really? Why has nobody heard of this? She is the Shugoshin heir."

At the other end of the table, Kogamaru can see Ryougamaru struggling to contain a chuckle, his cousin being in on the secret. Abruptly, their grandmother's gaze then narrows in suspicion as something occurs to her. "How is it that the two of you know of this?"

The young Koshaku grins. "Because we know him. Ryougamaru was the one who introduced him to me, and I introduced him to Ichika through some JNHRO work, which is where their paths crossed."

Pausing for a moment and taking a sip of tea to draw out the dramatics, Kogamaru then continues with an offhanded explanation.

"Oh, and the reason Ichika prefers discreetness and it is only really those of us who are friends that are in the know at the moment, is because Jugo-san is essentially an unlanded commoner." Ashihime makes a rather undignified noise as she chokes on her tea at her grandson's words. "He's actually from one of the reserves. A pre-war escapee who's family Otou-sama helped establish a new life once outside. He also occasionally helps Karuidoko with the War Migrant and Refugee Program."

Reactions around the table are mixed. His uncle merely raises his good eyebrow, while his aunt gives a sappy smile at the thought of love that defies traditional boundries, like the hopeless romantic she sometimes is. His cousin meanwhile, just laughs quietly and shakes his head, while on the opposite end of the scale, his grandmother looks torn between being scandalised, intrigued by the gossip potential (even if she won't actually share anything at his request), and calculatingly wondering what her grandson's angle and stake in this is.

"Masamasaru doesn't know obviously," is what she finally says with a shake of her head. "He would never stand for such relationship between a granddaughter of their Main Family and a commoner... His only grandchild, their sole clan heir-"

"Exactly," points out Kogamaru. "What is he supposed to do? Ask his daughter to break the Shugoshin's only remaining line of direct succession by disinheriting Ishika? Besides, a lowborn wolf of the Reserves, Jugo-san may be, but he is far from some peasant vagrant."

The young Koshaku grins. "To discriminate in the muggle world, is to underestimate others at your own peril, when the only limit on sucesses is your own drive and will to achieve the goals along the way."

A flash of realization spark's in the she-wolf's gaze. "I see.... Your father helped the young wolf make something of himself then."

"Jugo-san went to Tokyo U around the same time Ryougamaru did, with some help from father, yes. He majored in engineering and now works for the Hokkaido branch of Japan Railways Group."

Kogamaru can see the moment the connection is made in her eyes. "So when Kamikawa Rail Depot was modified to better handle freight, so drivers wouldn't have to go all the way to Ashikawa with cargoes from the saw mill, Metalworks, and juice factory...."

"Jugo-san was perfect for the job. After all, he had supposedly lived here for a good portion of his teenage years, according to his muggle identity's history." Kogamaru then takes another sip of tea. "His work was so impressive, especially in relation to liaising with the community, that JR Hokkaido now want him to come back at our request, and oversee the creation of a narrow-gauge branch line, from the existing freight yard up through lower Doukouzan to the metalworks on a military subsidiary. A very nice feather-in-the-cap project for both himself and Yamainutaira. A dedicated branch line will speed up both the transport of refiened copper to wherever it is needed, and improve our capability to bring in ore and under-refined slag for reprocessing from out of town sites. It also cuts back on fuel costs and road maintenance, since trucks traveling back and forth from the metalworks and Kamikawa's freight depot, are some of the biggest offenders for all the potholes in recent years."

"And those are just the obvious financial and economic benefits." considers Ashihime. "Leaving aside the debt the wolf who shall be in charge of this project already has to us, the success your father has helped him to, his close working relationship and friendship with yourself and your cousin, and then that he is the beau of the heiress of the Shugoshin? Who you have already earned the friendship of, and thus asymmetrically done much to mend the relationship between our two clans?"

Kogamaru gives an undignified shrug and a helpless grin. "While I would not say I planned everything or for it all to turn out like that from the start.... I will admit, it is always easier to call upon favors from people who feel they want to help you in return for previous aid and mutual benefits, compared to those who's cooperation carries connotations of compensation alone."

For a long moment, Ashihime just looks at him, before shaking her head in disbelief and something almost like pride. "Sometimes I fear that you have too much of your father about you. And then at others, I am thankful of the rare glimpses of your grandfather I can sometimes see."

Kogamaru does his best not to cringe at the complement. The sad part was that for all his evil and abhorrent cruelty that had even extended to his own family, Ashihime had once respected, admired, and maybe even had something close to love for his grandfather, inspite of their arranged marriage.

Their fathers had never admitted or said anything, but Kogamaru and Ryougamaru both had their theories. His cousin's hypothesis was that their grandfather had at first simply behaved as the charming image of the future slightly older and boyishly gallant Koshaku she idolised, right up until they were married. Then the real Royomaru made himself known. Ashihime in her youth had supposedly been a sharp-minded and cuttingly intelligent young woman of the court, befitting her name of "Toothed Princess". And while Kogamaru believed her to have been more pragmatic than simply infatuated, there was no denying that Ashihime had then rather quickly become a quietly bitter, subservient extension of, and mouth-piece for her husband for much of their marriage.

Both cousins had silently come to the conclusion over a number of years, that there had been no small amount of spousal abuse involved in the "taming of the Toothed Princess' tongue" either. A darkly kept secret among the clan, which they'd only found out after managing to weedle a multitude of stories out of a retired member of the manor staff from that period. Regardless of how much of her fondness for her late-husband was for an idealized version of him before he changed, respect born of values dissonance to their modern sensibilities, or some form of Stockholm Syndrome, Ryougamaru was also rather certain that the way Ashihime did nothing to actually help defend Royomaru during the post-war trials that led to his execution, were essentially a much more inteligent and calculated version of Battered Woman Syndrome.

Considering how sharp the elderly she-wolf was, even if the times were changing faster than the contexts she knew, Kogamaru wouldn't have put it past her to have leap at the chance to get away with her sons and their families, while her 'innaction' furthered Royomaru's reaping of the whirlwinds he'd sowed.

Thankfully, Kogamaru find himself interrupted from his reflections as Ashihime then tiredly bows. "Well, I must at least give thanks for explaining your reasoning. It assuages my worries for yourself and the clan when you do. However, now I believe I must ask my leave."

With a weary sigh, the marchioness-dowager gives Kogamaru a dryly cutting look of matriarchal severeness, that doesn't quite mask what is essentially exasperated fondness expressed through the filters of another era. "It's been a lovely lunch and debate, but the hours is almost up, and I'm afraid somebody must now deliver the bad news to the rest of the Elders. Owls to send, usually about owls not to sends."

"My apologies for getting yours and the other elders hopes up," admits Kogamaru, before politely nodding to her and gesturing for one of the staff to help her with her chair.

It doesn't escape his notice, the slight twinge of annoyance Ashihime's expression let's slip as she gives him a polite bow, that he only apologizes for getting their hopes up, and not the actual rejection of the suggestion. He won't go out of his way to spurn the elders and make enemies of them unnecessarily as his father did, but that won't stop him from making his opposition and displeasure towards certain topics known in unsaid and more subtle ways either.

Still, Kogamaru also prides himself on being better at the balancing act of politics and family life than his predecessor, and as his grandmother rises, so to does he. Kogamaru may have inherited the typical slight and lithe frame of a Honshu Okami, but Ashihime is even smaller. It's always entertained him that she used to tower over him and was the personification of impersonal, cold, nobility to his childhood perception, and now as an adult, height and station have led to a reversal in stature and 'technical inability' to chide him for such 'personal and undignified displays' as hugs.

Another thing granted to him by age, is also the realization that Ashihime does not actually take offence to such affection from her grandchildren as he once thought.

"Be well Obaa-chan," says Kogamaru as he finally separates from her, causing the elder to give a dignified sniff that is no doubt to hide her smile.

"Every time you restore my faith, you just have to go ahead and do something unbecoming of your station don't you?" Abruptly, the okami elder then rounds on Ryougamaru, upon noticing he has risen from his seat as well. "And you should not rise unless invited or signalled to."

Kogamaru's fellow young wolf just grins "But Koga was already standing."

"It's been eight years, and how many times have I told you; it is inappropriate to shorten your cousin's name now that he is-" Rougamaru just cuts her off with a hug of his own, and an unmasked grin.

"I love you too Obaa-chan. See you at dinner."

Withdrawing from the second of her grandsons that tower over her, and brushing at her kimono as if busily trying to smooth out wrinkles Ryougamaru didn't actually leave, Ashihime then looks to her son and his wife and simply bows. "Jiroumaru. Shikishi. I bid my leave and shall see you both come evening."

To any outsider, this would sound like a painfully formal and dispassionate good bye to a son and daughter-in-law. Kogamaru supposes it's one of the things that are just the nature of their family, that they can see the warmth and care behind the eternal noble woman airs.

Shikishi bows respectfully and with polite deference to her mother-in-law, while the good side of Jiroumaru's face tugs a pale and thin cheek into a fond smile. "Take care okaa-chan.... We look forward..... to seeing you then...."

Out of all of them, it is Jiroumaru who is the only one who can get away with being anywhere near close to informal with her.

Granted, Ashihime isn't anywhere near as stringent as she used to be either, in spite of her best efforts to clamp down on Kogamaru's unconcerned view of people (in particular Ryougamaru) being casual towards him ever since he became Koshaku. Kogamaru isn't blind towards the source of her lighter hand these last few years either. While she's never shown it, he knows that it wounded her deeply, that she and her eldest son never really mended the rift created by her inability to disagree with her husband until it was to late, and his decades of almost offensive defiance towards clan responsibilities. Only a few days before Blood Week in fact, the two of them had had one of their larger and more undignified rows in years, in relation to how much time Tsumemaru was neglecting his son's opportunities to learn about the clan he would one day govern, simply to spite her and the other elders.

Needless to say, that resulted more than a few things said, that would never be taken back thanks to the tragedy of the ensuing days.

Returning to the present as Ashihime then takes her leave, Kogamaru then glances at Ryougamaru as the other young wolf moves to his parents side of the table.

"What about you Koga?" asks his cousin. "You going to be joining us for dinner as well?"

The Koshaku shrugs with a grimace. "I have to go help a friend out with something, and then there's a JNHRO meeting later. Ai's thinking it's time we did something, but that riot a few weeks back has thrown a wrench in a number of plans, and then put question marks and a bad taste to a few other ideas we originally had bandying about."

"Ah," says the older of the two with a commiserating look. "A late night then. I might be facing one of those as well."

Turning to his parents, Ryougamaru then takes his father's good hand gives it a squeeze, while Shikishi rises and gives her son a hug of goodbye herself. "Otou-san, Okaa-san. I'll try to join you and obaa-san for dinner, but no promises. The council has a number of proposals we need to go over this afternoon, and so I apologize in advance if our meeting ends up running into the evening."

Shikishi just shakes her head, and Jiroumaru offers the best half-grin he can proudly manage. "You have nothing to apologize for. Your work comes first."

"You need not.... worry for us...." labours the wheelchair bound member of the couple. "Your obaa-chan.... will understand as well."

Ryougamaru gives a polite bow. "Thank you. I'll still try and make it, but no promises." Turning to Kogamaru, and giving a far more casually lazy wave that would probably have had their grandmother horrified, the Koshaku just chuckles and gives one to his cousin in return.

Watching as Ryougamaru leaves, Kogamaru waits a few moments, before then glancing at his Aunt and Uncle. Jiroumaru inparticular, draws his focus.

"So.... Oji-sama. I heard we should be expecting visitors to the library at some point in the next few days."

Kogamaru will be the first to admit that formality and protocol mean that the suffix of 'sama' often gets thrown around so much in the household of the Main Family, that it tends to loose a lot of its impact and meaning. When Kogamaru addresses his uncle however, he always means the respect he gives.

Looking back at him, the half-paralyzed wolf nods, a tiredly resigned look in his remaining eye. "Someone must have some..... interesting little birds whispering..... in their ears. To know what we have...."

Crossing his arms, Kogamaru stares off into the distance, an analytical glint to his gaze. "I do wonder what the impetus behind this is. Has someone tried to play the muggles against us by airing tidbits of the past without context? Or have they heard of this hidden part of the war through some other means, and learned that we preserve some of the only public records of Unit-731's magical offshoots?"

For a man with only half a face, Jiroumaru can be quiet expressive at times, giving a grimace that reveals pain, shame, and haunting memories all at once. "The girl I spoke with.... I think she was a shipgirl..... She mentioned researching something..... that the SDF found near Kure....."

"Oh? You think they might have, er.... uncovered an old base of the like then?" Kogamaru raises an eyebrow, while Shikishi gives her husband's hand a comforting squeeze.

Jiroumaru nods. "That is most likely..... what I suspect..... Though I do not know.... if it is the same place I know of.... Or another... that was beyond my clearance...."

The young Koshaku frowns in thought for a moment, before then nodding. "If it is the SDF, would you prefer me to try and keep my schedule open? So Ryouga and I can be a available to unseal the that wing of the library and any records they might want to access?"

The scholarly wolf determinedly shakes his head as best he can. "No.... If they are here because.... they found something..... Then I should be there.... Better to have the word..... of someone who bore witness to the inner workings.... of the incomprehensible madness most of those reports are about...."

"Are you sure Oji-sama?"

His uncle merely gives a quietly depreciating half-smile. "I am not so lame as to be unble to manage a few Blood Wards on my own."

"And you'll have me to help with the more menial lifting anyway," adds in Shikishi.

For a moment, Kogamaru pauses. "Are you certain you wish to handle the contents of that wing oba-chan? Ryouga or I can always help lend a hand instead."

Shikishi merely shakes her head. "I have nothing to fear from the words of long dead monsters and madmen. Not when your uncle and I lived under the heel of the greater monster who enabled them."

Noticing how the wheelchair bound wolf cringes with mild apprehension, Shikishi then places a hand on Jiroumaru's shoulder, next speaking to him more than Kogamaru as she catches his one-eye gaze. "And I have no reason to worry what I might find. There are no secrets between my husband and I, and have not been for a long time."

"Reports are one thing...." mutters Jiroumaru, only to be cut off by his wife.

"And you are another. Something which I know and understand far better than contextless facts put to paper that say where you were." Quietly, Shikishi takes her husband's hand. "I'd like to think your mother favoured me to be your bride for more reasons than just my good looks and father's money."

Briefly a flicker of a small grin tugs at Jiroumaru's good cheek. "But they were certainly.... charming bonuses in your favour...."

Shikishi smiles coyly. "Oh, so not the fact that I was the only other person with anywhere near as similar a fondness for old books as you?"

Jiroumaru chuckles haltingly "I may have been.... an avid collector of... ancient works.... But I don't believe it was me.... who put a previous matchmaker to sleep.... talking about Goethe....."

The equally bookworm she-wolf just laughs. "And thank goodness I did, otherwise your mother would never have realized our shared love of literature."

As the two quietly share their back and forth, Kogamaru can't help but smile.

If he ever needed any proof that his grandmother knew what she was doing when arranging marriages, this was it. As a political chess-piece, Royomaru may have used his younger son when marrying him off, but in spite of her husband's surreptitious greed and lust for power, Ashihime had still managed to find a wife of her son that could just as easily have been a match made in heaven. At a point when most other political marriages would have fallen apart due to the post-war downfall of the Hokubu and Jiroumaru's self-inflicted injury, Shikishi had stuck by her husband's side rather than going divorcing him and going back to her clan with her son, and then continued to faithfully remain with her wounded love for all the decade's since.

Such a shame then, that one of the easiest ways for him to project an image of the Hokubu as progressive, earn loyalty and gratitude from those among his generation, and at the same time drag the older demographics of the clan kicking and screaming into the modern era, was to set an example by refusing to let himself be locked into an arranged marriage, along with using his power as Koshaku to help veto the engagements of youths in the clan who did not want to be married off.

 

[darthcourt10]

Savato93

"…Renita is alive!?"

Hoppou nodded. "Apparently, yes."

"And you're SURE this is legitimate? No delusions?"

"Yes. Regalia knew secrets that only Hoppou's lost daughters could have told her..."

Regalia sat off to the side, watching the discussion quietly.

For so long, she'd thought she was the only Re-class of her family. There was certainly no immediately-noticeable evidence to the contrary. But as it turned out, there was another like her: Renita. The moment Hoppou had spoken her name, it was like she'd seen a ghost; her expression filled with so many emotions that Regalia couldn't name them all.

But one stood out clearly among all the others—regret.

"I don't recall seeing another Re-class besides myself in my dreams," Regalia said, trying to bring attention back to the conversation. "And I don't think the others would have wanted me to bring her up to you if she… didn't join them… so she must still be around." She looked to her mother and aunts. "Why have I never heard about her before now? Was she a bad person, or something?"

The sisters glanced between each other again before looking back to Regalia with guilty expressions. "Not… exactly," Tanith answered. "Renita is a… sensitive subject, for many of us. She was a wonderful sister, but the… circumstances, of her loss… are not something we like… to bring up. Especially after you were born."

Regalia could read between the lines. "…she went mad, didn't she?" she asked, expression solemn.

She was met with sad nods all around. "You were young," her mother continued. "Innocent. Beyond your insecurities about your body… which were perfectly warranted… you seemed stable, healthy. None of us wanted to risk… pushing you down the same path… by sowing seeds of doubt about… what might have been."

"…I see." For her own peace of mind, then. She couldn't blame them; she was still frightened by the thought, herself. "What kind of person was she? Before she… got sick?"

Sunny hummed thoughtfully. "She was… kinda like you, to be honest. Most of the time she was bright, curious, affectionate. She even had her own little hobby: painting." She frowned. "But… every now and then, she'd fall into this… mood. She got irritable, snappy. She'd usually either go to Mother and spend time with her until the mood passed, or hide herself away entirely."

"We thought it was just an odd quirk of her personality… that she just let out all her pent-up negative feelings in periodic bursts, so she could be happy the rest of the time." Sonata shook her head. "We didn't know, then… about the demon hidden away in every Re-class. We didn't realize Renita was unstable."

"Over time, her mood swings started to get worse," Ritou said. "She developed a hair-trigger temper. Started shutting herself off more often. A few of us even heard her talking to herself on occasion. We went to Mother, warned her about what was happening, hoping she could help Renita. But even she couldn't work out what was wrong."

"Finally, one day… she just vanished." Tanith closed her eyes, expression pained. "We found a letter. Renita wrote of… voices in her head. Constantly whispering to her. Telling her to fight… kill… destroy. She tried to shut them out… ignore them… but they only got louder. It got to the point… where she couldn't look at… any of her family, without… wanting to think of ways… to make them suffer. She was losing control."

"So Renita ran," Hoppou finished. "Ran away to save family from herself."

Regalia shuddered. She already thought it had sounded bad when Regina explained it to her… but to have the outward symptoms described? The effect it had on her sisters and mother? She'd never been more grateful than she was now, that she didn't suffer that same instability; she never would have been able to hold out against that sort of torment.

Not that that made her feel any better about her lost aunt.

"So, she's still out there somewhere, and she's trying to locate us," Ritou stated, sitting back in her chair. "What do we do with that information?"

"What do you mean?" Sonata asked her incredulously. "We need to find her."

"But we have no clue where she is." Ritou sighed. "Since apparently, being vague/cryptic as hell is a requirement when trying to send a warning to someone from beyond the grave."

"Well, we can't just do nothing. Renita's out there still looking for us, probably all alone…"

"Wait…" Sunny held up a hand. She turned to Regalia. "You said she's 'looking for us', correct? That she 'wants to come home'?"

Regalia nodded. "Yeah."

"But when she ran away, we still lived in Unalaska," Sunny pointed out. "If she was trying to come home, that's where she would have gone."

"Hoppou thought so, too," Hoppou said. "Asked Mommy about Dutch Harbor. She said there's been no sign of Abyssals coming anywhere close since Scattering, especially not Re-class."

"So if Unalaska wasn't the first place she went to, that means one of two things… either she forgot her home altogether and has only the foggiest clue of where to look…"

Ritou finished her sister's statement. "...or she learned what happened, and is searching elsewhere for survivors."

Sunny nodded. "With one scenario, even if Renita forgot home, her body won't just forget the environment that she was born and raised in, that she's accustomed to; she'll likely gravitate towards places with a familiar climate. With the other, if she knows we were kicked out, she's going to be searching any unoccupied landmass that we feasibly had the range to escape to. Both of those possibilities limit her search options to the north Pacific."

Tanith reached into her hold again, pulling out a large map, and set it out on the table in front of them. "That would still mean… she could be anywhere… from here to here." At this, she dragged a talon from Japan to the US west coast. "That is a lot of… ground to cover."

Ritou shrugged. "Given that the middle of the ocean is… well, the middle of the goddamn ocean, I doubt there's going to be a significant number of islands out there… unless they're phantom islands, at which point we're SOL if Renita takes permanent refuge in one of those." She pulled out a pencil, tapping it against her lips. "Hmm… aside from that, there's Midway, Hawaii and the Marshalls, at the extreme end of our range… but the first two are firmly shipgirl territory, and the Marshall Islands are probably well within the operational range of Australia and the Philippines. Given Aunt Wanko works in that region, she would have been able to identify Renita if she popped up that far south."

She leaned in and drew a circle surrounding the islands reaching from the northernmost edge of Japan, up to and around the eastern coast of the Kamchatka peninsula, and right back around to their homeland—the Aleutians. "Barring magical and uncharted islands… this would be my best estimate of the range Renita would be searching in. Mostly smaller landmasses, in a sub-Arctic climate or something close to it, with a sparse human/shipgirl presence, more or less within 'hauling ass' range of Unalaska."

Tanith nodded slowly. "So we at least have… an idea of where to look."

"Considering our family's own numbers and familiarity with a good part of the suspect region…" Sonata noted. "If we could bring in the humans and shipgirls for help… and if Renita really is somewhere around here… we just might be able to track her down by all working together."

"A risky proposition." Sunny shook her head. "If she's been on her own this whole time, she's going to be extremely wary of… anyone except her direct family, pretty much. If someone else finds her, and one of us isn't there to serve as an intermediary, she may try to defend herself… and that will end badly for all parties involved."

"So we can send one of our own with every search party. We have the numbers to spare a handful as liaisons…"

Ritou sighed. "You're getting ahead of yourselves, sisters. You're all assuming we'll even make it past step one of such a plan."

"Which would be…?"

"Convincing the humans to seek out a potentially-belligerent Re-class and capture her. Alive."

XXXXXXXXXX

The pair was silent as they looked out over the hill, to the derelict facilities surrounding the bombed-out remains of an airfield. At some point, in the far past, this island must have been a military outpost—but it had been long abandoned, even before the Abyssals came. There was nothing here worth salvaging, nothing that would have value to a Princess.

As far as they could tell, they were the first Abyssals to ever set foot here.

The destroyer looked to her flagship, noting her thoughtful expression. "Something wrong?"

The Re-class blinked. "No… no." She let out a sigh, her breath misting the air in front of her. "This air… this cold. It just… feels like home."

The destroyer made a small sound of acknowledgement. "So, your fleet lived somewhere like this?"

"I think…" the Re-class eventually nodded. "Yes, I think so. Home was… chilly. Wet. But not inhospitable."

There was a gust of wind, bringing with it another burst of cold, the scent of the sea… and the almost-inaudible sound of propellers buzzing.

Scout planes.

"We should hide," the destroyer suggested.

Within minutes, the pair had made their way down to the airfield, taking refuge in the largest remaining building. Working their way into the deepest section of the building, hoping to escape the prying eyes of shipgirls, they found themselves in what seemed like an ancient conference room. The rusty table in the middle of the chamber was moved into the corner, providing the pair more room to relax.

Creeping to the nearest hole in the ceiling, the destroyer listened for noises outside. The buzzing was louder, now, almost on top of them. Returning to the Re-class, she let out a sigh. "We should probably stay here another day or so. Give patrols enough time to move on, so we can set out safely."

Leaned against a wall, knees pulled up to her chest, the Re-class nodded solemnly. "Alright."

The destroyer gave her flagship a concerned look. She shuffled over to lay beside her. "Don't feel bad, flagship. This isn't your fault. It was just bad luck; we had no way of knowing a patrol would come by right after we made landfall. Let's just make a fire, eat something. Relax for the night. Does that sound good?"

The Re-class leaned against the destroyer, sighing. "…yeah. Sure."

Looking into her hold, the destroyer brought out some driftwood, spitting it out in a pile in the center of the room. Knowing the next step, the Re-class's tail came forward on its own. With a sound like a mix of a wheeze and a gargle, a small glob of burning avgas was ejected from the orifice that was once its throat, igniting the wood.

Just like that, the small, damp chamber became brighter and warmer. Not by much… but every little bit made a difference.

The Re-class reached into her own hold and brought out a few ration bars, checking the labels and handing off the best ones to her loyal follower. She bit into her own, not even bothering to remove the wrapper, and shuddered at the taste of faint sweetness utterly failing to mask overpowering bitterness. This stuff was awful… but she was willing to endure it, for the destroyer's sake. The destroyer did so much for her, but there was so little the broken Re-class could do for her, in return; at the very least, she could try to spare her from bad food.

The Re-class stared at the fire in front of her as she reluctantly nibbled on the self-proclaimed chocolate, thinking. Something about this situation—sitting in front of a fire with someone important to her, eating a candy bar—tickled at a part of her mind. A part she'd thought lost to the Hate; consumed by the darkness that had taken so much of who she used to be.

Darkness that receded, ever so slightly, before the light in front of her.

"...I… I remember something."

The destroyer looked to her. "Huh?"

"I remember me and… sisters, sitting around a fire, like this." Reaching beside her, the Re-class plucked a piece of dry, dead vine from the wall and brought it to the fire, watched it begin to burn. "Sisters would jab these… sweet, white puffy things, with a stick, hold them in fire. It would get soft and melty, and they'd smear it between a couple of crackers with chocolate and eat it."

The destroyer stuck out her tongue in disdain. "Chocolate? You mean like those nasty brown bars we sometimes find in rations?"

The Re-class shook her head. "No… real chocolate. Nice, really sweet flavor. A kind that melted in your mouth. It was wonderful… so much better than this…" she waved the bar in her hands.

"Wow… that must have been nice, then." The destroyer picked up her last ration pack in her mouth, swallowing it whole. "Do you remember… anything else, about your old life?" she asked.

Closing her eyes, the Re-class took a deep breath. "Small bits and pieces. Images, places, foods…" she opened her eyes again, glistening with unshed tears. "Mommy."

"Your princess?" A nod. "What was she like?"

There was a long silence. The destroyer wondered if the Re-class was just going to end the conversation there, refuse to go any further into her past, as she usually did.

This time, though, the Re-class spoke.

"Mommy… she was different. Really different…" she began.

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K Omake: IA IA SHIPPING FTAGN!

Barricade said:
And then along come three collage-aged shipwolfgirls, the youngest of which, still unawoken but looking to be a tender (thus a master of logistics....), has a massive long running crush on Kogamaru. Just that it'll be a few years before her hull is fixed, and she can get out of the wheelchair she's in, first.

After that? He's as good as landed.​

In the interim, it probably helps that much of Santsume Manor and Yamainutaira in general, is probably already pretty wheelchair accessible.

NotHimAgain said:
Ah, arranged marriages. That favored plotline of shojo manga and young adult literature.​

And also still a favored method of cementing alliances, powerplays and securing the fortunes or politics of some of the more traditional clans. The perception of "out of date" and "a cultural norm of the past" is probably a bit skewed when most of those still advocating such things for their heirs were born before the last world war, or were themselves hitched up to provide stability for their clans during the decline of yokai rights and power in the late 1800s.

Of course, the fact that arranged marriages are more of a trope of romance mangas and soap operas these days, is partly why Kogamaru realizes the attention such an event would immediately gather. What a century ago, would have had people outside the spectrum of inter-clan politics and the power games of the nobility shrugging and carrying on, would now draw interest and fascination. Something that would then repeat all over again once the Statute falls and the muggles learn of it as well.

It would potentially be a spectacle drawing false scrutiny for the sake of tabloid drama, and possibly even worrying yellow journalism to damage the careful crafted and maintained image the clan he tries to maintain. He just knows there are those out there who would be all to happy or willing to tear into aspects of such an event, Yamainutaira's turn around, or his leadership, with comparisons to his grandfather, even if they were not there.

NotHimAgain said:
Interesting to see Koga's family politics and dynamics. Ashihime seems pretty interesting in particular.​

I liked the idea of exploring the elders that Kogamaru is often having to balance his clan policies around and "work against while still working together". I wanted to try my hand at a character who could be firmly established in their rather conservative values, while still being intelligent and nuanced.

(And also a chance to show more Kogamaru when the Clark Kent glasses come off, and he is actually acting like a Clan Head prepared from birth to inherit a dynastic leadership position for once

)

Poor Ashihime is very much a product of her time and a lifetime of hard experiances. She's definitely a character of another era in how she acts and thinks, and who's behaviour is shaped by the trials of her life, but she still cares for and respects her remaining family in her own outdated and heavily formal manner and ways.

Cyberbeta said:
Ignoring any context of shipping you bring up something I don't think any of us have thought of:

Art of not only those three with their Rigging Deployed, but How their Wolf forms may change if they still have them after fully awakening their Ship-selves.

As in how big of a wolf will they be and how will their guns, propellers and stacks look on their Respective Wolf Forms should they choose to go to see at times in quadruped instead of biped.​

The first image that comes to mind is something like three different versions of Ammy from Okami, but a turret replaces the Reflector, the flight deck takes the place of the glaive, and..... I don't know how a supply ship would utilise things to replace the beads. Maybe it's just a bunch of fuel drums floating around?

Speaking of Okami, I'm still mildly surprised that nobody picked up on the fact that I named all of Kogamaru's attacks that he called out while training, after Divine Instruments as a gag.

Seihai-kun said:
*Looks at the thread title*

Soon™, Kogamaru. You won't escape, no one will. Muahahahahahahaha.​

"Ia Ia, shipping ftagn!"

"wat?" Blinking in confusion, Kogamaru then recoils as Karuidoko gleefully shoves one of her trashy teen magazines she's always reading into his face, open to a certain page.

"Ia Ia, shipping ftagn!"

Going mildly cross-eye'd for a moment, Kogamaru then focuses on the topic written across the page.

"Top Ten Eligable Yokai Bachelors this Summer, and Who They Should Hook Up With; The Chart Knows All - what the hell?!"

"Ia Ia, shipping ftagn!"

"Will stop with the chanti- Wait- is that- 'at number blahblahblah, the boyishly handsome and Prince Charming bishonen with a dark past-'."

Kogamaru pauses as he processes what he just read.

"doG damnit! I am not a bishonen!" the undeniably bishonen Koshaku doesn't so much roar as whine.

"Ia Ia, shipping ftagn!"

"Karui-chan!"

At that moment, Kogamaru's other cousin chooses to appear.

"Hey guys, what's happening?" asks Ryougamaru as he strolls into veiw."

"Karuidoko's brains finally melting out of her head from too much shoujo and yaoi apparently," is the muttered answer he recieves, while their female cousin continues to shadow him with the humiliating article in her hands.

".... what?" asks the other wolf in confusion.

"Ia Ia, shipping ftagn!" declares their she-wolf cousin as she now shoves the magazine in Ryougamaru's face in turn.

For a moment, the wolf blinks in confusion then peers around the teen tabloid for yokai girls, to looks at the eldest of the three cousins quizzically. "Ia Ia, shipping ftagn?"

Karuidoko takes the chance to nod with gleeful mischief while Kogamaru isn't looking at them. "Ia Ia, shipping ftagn."

The next things Kogamaru knows, Ryougamaru is in front of him leaping up and down doing some sort of tribal dance. "Ia Ia, shipping ftagn!"

"What?" Looking to the side, he sees Karuidoko now joining Ryougamaru in circling the youngest wolf of the three as well.

"Ia Ia, shipping ftagn!"

"Oh come on! Really Ryouga?!"

"IA IA SHIPPING FTAGN!" both of them exclaim in unison, hands raised to the sky.

"I hate you both so much right now."

"IA IA SHIPPING FTAGN!!!" is the gleeful dual response he gets in return.

 

[darthcourt10]

Snippet 41: S0ngD0g13

Canut stood over her forge, the fire long-since gone out and the ashes removed, and took a deep breath, centering herself. She carefully laid tinder and kindling in the forge, then took a thin rod of iron and began striking it with her hammer, each blow heating the metal until the tip began to glow; it was with this that the Battleship Demon ignited the tinder, and once the fire had caught she began adding coal before turning to Ruithidh, who stood nearby. "Start working the bellows; keep a steady rhythm and don't deviate from it."

As the Scottish Abyssal began pumping the bellows, Canut started a billet of steel heating, then began setting out tools. When the steel was ready, she took it to the anvil and began drawing it out with hammer-blows that rang like bells. As she worked, she began to speak, weaving magic into the steel by hammer and voice as the work-piece took shape. Back into the forge it went, and Canut nodded to Ruithidh, still murmuring and weaving the enchantments...

It took a dozen heats to work the steel properly; the billet was drawn out, flattened, and worked over dishing-jigs to the right bowl-shape. Canut fitted a handle of Antillian Oak into the center of the concave side, then brought out her gravers. On the outer face she cut grooves and inlaid electrum to form Gateway's Abyssal-Crustacean sigil; around the outer rim were graceful letters reading, "Nec refert, quam acri adversantes mihi, dentes sit, et ego vocor, 'Carapace', et omnium declinant percussionibus emendare statuitur."

Canut began to form the graven runes on the inner surface to make good on the outer rim's boast; runes of strength, of resilience, of deflection, of protection and of power, graven by the hand and woven by the voice, until Canut felt the enchantments settle into the metal. "Finished."

Ruithidh, released from her duty on the bellows, stepped up to look at it in silent awe...

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

When next Gateway came to her throne-room, upon the chair lay a buckler-shield with Canut's mark on the handle and an inscription of Latin around the rim; the Princess read it and chuckled slightly...

"It does not matter how sharp my foes' fangs may be, for I am called 'Carapace', and I turn aside all blows."

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K Omake: Wolfing Wedding

Seraphim500 said:
I can imagine jiro ( hes the one who partially crippled right?) Will want to know the how and who of the discovery of experiment island and will likely apologise to aso for what happened to her.

Oh the feels my normally stoic heart cant tank feels of this magnitude for long​

Yeah, Jiroumaru's the one who's crippled. Missing his right eye and paralyzed on his left side.

He was Tsumemaru's younger brother, and in an effort to earn Royomaru's favor after decades of him manipulating and playing his two sons against each other, Jiroumaru ended up taking up a job being an agent and observer of his. A liaison charged with going between his father and a number of such places like the Caldera and the island Aso found, reporting on the progress of various projects (and unknown to him, also being a method for his father to keep tabs on the various mad scientist types 731 were picking up).

Something happened though, which he's never exactly elaborated on, which disturbed him so greatly that he eventually tried to put a bullet in his head (obviously he was extremely ungodly lucky, which is why he's only missing an eye and most motor functions on the side that the right half of the brain handles)

Since the end of the war, he's also occasionally kept tabs on ex-"colleagues" and "co-workers" of his, although this has generally tailed off as most of those involved have died from old age, or their hubris attracted even bigger fish than little old him. On more than one occasion though, he personally tied up loose ends that should have stayed forgotten with the passing of the war.

Through a combination of his position and his desire to make sure things aren't forgotten (although there are also more than a few secrets so pointlessly abhorrent and dangerous he is determined that those shall pass into the grave with him), Jiroumaru's ended up accumulating quite the archive of forgotten and declassified documents behind the blood wards of the more secure sections of the Santsume Manor Library. A veritable treasure trove of information that would be rather enlightening to many parties if they actually realized just how many things Jiroumaru had managed to preserve, that others allowed to fade away or hid to escape the risk of old crimes, embarrassing lies, and shameful connections being uncovered.

jgkitarel said:
Don't forget fanfics, either. At least here, the entire point of the arranged marriages is based on the historical reasons for them. Furthering alliances, furthering the interests of the family, and such. And Ashihime is very capable of picking good matches in these cases. It also helps that Japanese traditions toward arranged marriages are less, get these two hitched, and more "we're arranging you two to wed, but we're giving you two some time to get to know each other and at least learn to tolerate each other enough to not commit murder on your honeymoon".​

Unfortunately for Ashihime, she didn't quite realize in time that she would have been better off murdering Royomaru on their honeymoon. And then it took a few decades, her youngest son almost dying, and the knowledge that the rest of the clan was rapidly turning against him, before she finally felt confidant enough to stand against him.

Luckily for her, a perfect opportunity for 'murder' by proxy soon appeared, when the magical version of the International Military Tribunal for the Far East brought all Royomaru's sins back to haunt him and prove his undoing.

jgkitarel said:
And the internal politics that Kogamaru has to deal with are interesting, aren't they? The issue is a clash of generations, with the older generation being mired in tradition, which Kogamaru does respect, even if he thinks that some need to be changed or done away with due to not really fitting with the modern world.​

The fun thing about the Hokubu is that there's a pretty good reason for there to be such a disparate gap in the positions and view points for much of the clan, with little in between. The age demographics of the clan members still in Yamainutaira are massively skewed between either those of Ashihime's age or older, and the youth of Karuidoko, Rougamaru and Kogamaru's age group who were mostly born either during wartime (Karui and Ryouga) or just post-war (Koga), as well as slightly younger generation who aren't quite recognized as adults yet by okami standards, but getting close to it.

Most of the generation that should include Hokubu in the age range of Tsumemaru, Jiroumaru and Sakiko, are rather lacking in presence when it comes to clan politics, and outnumbered by the other two groups. This is mainly due to them either being dead thanks to WWII, or the gradual diaspora that left Yamainutaira and most of their connections to the clan when they went to the cities in search of work or better qualities of life, as the town went tits up during the late-40s, 50s, 60s and only started to level off the decline in the 70s. The primary thanks for this were the stains on the place's reputation thanks to Royomaru and Ezomaru on the magical sides of things, but the declining muggle populace and loss of business to urban drift was also a major element in people leaving too.

Kogamaru's desire to focus on the younger generation is partly out of pragmatics, as well as his own moral interest. If he can revitalize the sense of importance of the clan in a generation normally not so keen on more stifling tradition and conservative values, it grants him a power base and flexibility most of the elders aren't quite in touch with, while also proving he can helm the leadership of the clan by reinvigorating it's importance among the youths. A younger and more open minded power-base, is also one likely to be more flexible towards evolving the nature of the clan's roles and positions in Yamainutaira, to adapt to the way the world has rapidly changed in the past few years. Something that will only happen faster and with more unpredictability once the statute falls.

Of course, the downside to this is that he's constantly playing a game of "checks and balances", and has to be careful about how quickly he can move towards certain things. While a very progressive ruler, half his clan is still rather traditional and conservative in their values, and he sees value in maintaining support from them to better secure loyalty from all sides, rather than running roughshod and ignoring them like his father did.

As good as Kogamaru is and proved himself to be, he himself had to work in his typical asymmetrical way towards securing his own role as heir, due to how vitriolic his father's relationship with the Elders was. Things were frigid enough between Ashihime and Tsumemaru because of how he spurned the clan and didn't seem to be immediately teaching Kogamaru in the ways of being Koshaku like they expected, that Ryougamaru was almost advocated as heir when they were in their comparative teen years, in spite of normal convention and Tsumemaru's declarations that Koga was to be his successor. After Ryougamaru openly that he would not in anyway stand against his cousin, and in fact supported Kogamaru to stay as the heir, that plan died on the vine.

By the time Tsumemaru died during Blood Week, Kogamaru had enough popular support from among the younger or more progressive members of the Hokubu and other heirs of the various families clans in Yamainutaira, that there wasn't any option but to accept him as Koshaku. Ryouga was literally the only other candidate of direct succession, Jiroumaru is out of line of succession due to his ailments, but is technically an Elder by dint of his role as clan Archivist and Librarian, Karuidoko is heiress to the clan's Hokubu-Setto branch family line and due to one day take over custodianship of the shrine, Sakiko isn't an elder, but her word still counts for a lot as the current Master of the Ken-gitsune Swordsmith line, and then there's Chufsanma who is heiress to the Matangi-Ken.

kinglugia said:
Makes me wonder if one day someone in an old money style family reveals he's gay to his omiai-happy parents, and instead of backing off, they just arranged for their son to get hitched with rich gay men

I mean, this counts as progressive too... right? Or did I misunderstand shit again?​

Isn't the current trend to get around the either the stigma or lack of recognition for gay marriage (can't remember which), to just abuse some of the legislation left behind to accommodate family/clan adoptions, in order for couples to make one part of the other's family that way?

(I may be wrong, as I'm just trying to remember off the top of my head)

Also, this now brings to mind Kogamaru in something like the ending of Spaceballs in the position of the priest.

He's supposed to be officiating an induction into a clan for a newlywed, only for everything to come out.
*-*-*-*

*After the nth interruption of the day*

"B-But Kogamaru-sama! They're both- er- What will the Elders-"

"I don't care Ryouga! I'm sick of this! I don't give a damn who it is, but I'm gonna induct somebody into this clan today!"

"Guys can't love guys!"

"And you can put a sock in it too Karui-chan! Now here we go, the short, short version. You! Do you love him?"

"Yes."

"And you?"

"Yes."

"Good! Welcome to the clan! I officially grant to you our mark! We have family potlucks once a month! Now kiss him!"

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Upon a dresser, a clock slowly ticked as a beam of sunlight entered a room through some curtains. Slowly, the light made its way across the room as time passed until it reached the bed and hit the sleeping face of one of the three in the bed. For almost a minute, there was no response before a grumble escaped from the bed's occupant and she swiped at the errant beam. However, eventually Moriko lost her battle to stay asleep and opened her eyes with a small yawn.

Blinking, the okami looked around the room with a small frown on her face before looking at the time on the old, battered alarm clock. One that had been sneakily enchanted by a witch paid for by Sachiko in order to shrug off blows. Not to mention the one that made it so it dodged attempts to turn it off unless said person got out of bed.

It never ceased to amuse the sickly yokai the grumbles and such that sometimes came from her sisters when they were awoken by said clock.

That thought though brought Moriko's attention to her sister. Well, that fact and said sister was currently sleepily snuggling into her chest. Lips twitching, the muscular wolfess gently kissed her sister between the ears and stroked her head for a few seconds. And then, with a gentleness belied by how muscular she was as well as how she had fought and beaten many Yokai in the ring, she slowly escaped from Sachiko's grasp. Slipping out of bed, Moriko stretched some in the early morning light. But instead of leaving, she turned and examined her younger sister, now spooned by her other sister, Suzume.

Head tilted to the side, Moriko smiled some at the changes in Sachiko since undergoing her "Treatment". Once, said Okami had issues sometimes sleeping due to coughing, or her body just waking her along with her sisters, though they never blamed her or got angry. This had the effect of always leaving her tired throughout the day. But one of the very first things that started happening was that her coughing had gone down enough she was able to actually sleep the whole night away. Something that slowly brought her energy levels up.

But it was her looks though that were the biggest change.

With a number of full nights sleep under her belt, the bags and circles around Sachiko's eyes had slowly faded away. And now that Moriko examined her more closely, she had to brightly smile at the fact that they were barely even there, perhaps even gone. That, in both Moriko's and her twin sister's minds, was something to celebrate as it was an actual sign that their beloved little sister's health was improving. Yes, it was slow as it took a full month, but it was still far better then what they had before.

Gaze sweeping across what she could see of Sachiko, Moriko's smile brightened still further. Once, the sickly Yokai's hair was matted due to her health and reflected her state of being unless they put in hours of work like they had for the wedding. It was also something that carried over into her more animalistic form of a wolf, which made her look diseased. However, much to their pleasant surprise, after three weeks including daily baths in the Repair Docks, or using repair fluid, Sachiko's hair now looked much healthier. In fact, it was not far off from her own sisters' heads of hair or their fur. At most, someone might think that she had come down with the flu.

There was more to it then just that though. The color of the youngest of the three had also slightly improved. Not much, and certainly not noticeable unless one knew her for some time. But it was there, and it only brightened their spirits all the more.

Lips curling upwards, Moriko bit back a chuckle as she noticed something else. 'Well, she is certainly filling out a bit.' Shaking her head, she pulled the blankets more over Sachiko, after all best not risk anything. With a sigh, she stood up, did another stretch, before striding out of the room. 'Now, time to keep that going.'

Entering the kitchen, Moriko began to prepare their breakfast for the day. It did not take long for her to put on a pot of coffee for both herself and Suzume. Just like it did not take her long to begin to make the miso soup for all three of them. With the pot on the stove though, she reached into a container and pulled out a small bar of metal and examined it. Placing it into the pot, Moriko shook her head. "Hard to believe that a cast iron ingot makes that much of a difference. Though I suppose that I should not be too surprised."

Just keeping an eye on it, she swiftly moved through the rest of the kitchen. Soon, the bubbling of the pot was joined by the sound of sizzling of bacon as well as ham with some eggs as well. Chuckling, Moriko grinned as she was reminded of what Akashi had given them as an order for Sachiko's diet. Red meat with every meal, which being as she was a wolf Yokai was never going to get argument about anyways. Reaching into the fridge, the prize fighter pulled out a container and opened it to reveal strips of beef inside. "I really got to thank Ryuujou-San as well as Junyou-San. Seriously, transfiguring beef jerky into normal beef, damn."

Once she was finished cooking it, she added it to an omelette that she was making for Sachiko... though she also made one for herself and Suzume. Why waste meat?" By the time Moriko was finished, her ears picked up the sound of movement inside the room all three sisters shared. Four minutes later, as she was placing plates and bowls on the table, Sachiko wheeled herself out from inside the room in her wheel chair, with Suzume following behind. "Good morning, Moriko-Onee-San."

A small smile on her face, Moriko walked over and kissed Sachiko on the head. "Good morning to you as well. Have a good sleep?"

Eyes brightening, Sachiko gave a nod. "Hai, it was wonderful again." Stretching some, she sighed happily. "I feel so rested now!"

Chuckling, Suzume shared a look with Moriko, one that conveyed their happiness at the slowly, steadily improving health of their little lucky charm. "Well, you certainly slept like... what is the American expression? Like a log?"

Bemused, Sachiko reached the table and cocked her head to the side. "How can a log even sleep though?"

With a snort, Moriko shook her head. "Who knows? Its an American term after all."

Still confused, the youngest of the three sisters giggled some. "I suppose so." Then she looked from her wheelchair to the table before nodding. Both Suzume and Moriko watched as she gripped her armrests before lifting herself free of her wheelchair. Using the table for support, the Yokai shuffled to a chair and then sat down with a sigh. "Ah."

Leaning over, Suzume kissed her on the side of the head. "Great job, that's coming easier now."

Sachiko gave a hum at that. "Its not nearly as hard as it was. Besides..." Grinning slightly, she continued. "I'm going to be as awesome as my Onee-Sans one day after all."

Eyebrow raised, Moriko ruffled her hair some. "We're only as awesome as we are because we got the most awesome and best lucky charm of an Imouto anywhere." That only brought giggles from the youngest of the three sisters and she looked over the food. "Want anything else, Sachiko-Chan?"

Pausing from where she was about to grab her orange juice, Sachiko blinked before her expression turned sheepish. "Um, can I have some toast with peanut butter? Please?"

Just winking, the scarred Okami snapped her fingers. "You got it."

As she made the toast, Moriko listened as Suzume lightly laughed. "My, you're certainly eating more now." Looking over her shoulder, she could see the amused expression on the Kyuudou practicing Yokai that was her twin sister. "I remember when you barely ate even when we tried to get you to eat more."

Even more sheepish, though not minding the teasing, Sachiko let out a small cough. "Well... I wasn't that hungry back then. But I'm hungry a lot now."

Moriko placed the peanut butter toast in front of Sachiko, as well as a plate for herself and Suzume. "Not surprise, Sachiko-Chan. Seriously, we're going to build you right up and to the point where you're going to be one of best shipgirls out there. Better then even Yamato-San or any of the others because you're our lucky charm."

Bashfully smiling, Sachiko chewed her lip. "Do you think so? Really?"

Lips curling upwards, Suzume chuckled. "Think so? We know so." Smiling, she picked up some utensils. "Anyways, we should eat up as we got a long day ahead of us."

Her expression brightening, the sickly Okami nodded. "Its the first day of Fleet Week, I really can't wait to see everything. I mean, I read about it in the newspapers and such, but... never did I think that I was going to get the chance to actually see it myself."

Chewing a bite of ham, Moriko frowned in thought before her eyes widened a bit. "That's right, none of us have been to one of these before. Should be interesting to be honest."

While taking a bite of omelette, Sachiko nodded. "Um, well, I don't really get to go to festivals and such. But I get to go to this one." Taking another bite, she missed the looks of sadness on Moriko's and Suzume's faces. After all, they had always hated how her health prevented their little sister from enjoying the festivals. But by the time Sachiko raised her head, any signs of their thoughts were gone. "I even made myself a nice dress."

A grin on her face, Suzume shook her head. "Then you're going to be attracting all sorts of looks considering how good looking you are. Most aren't even going to notice your poor Nee-Sans since we're going to look ugly next to our brilliant Imouto."

Even as Sachiko flushed at the compliment, Moriko laughed. "Or, perhaps, you're going to try and snag Kogamaru-San if he sees you."

Playing with the hem of her shirt, Sachiko shook her head. "Thanks, but I really don't think that he would be interested in that sort of thing. I mean, considering how rich and powerful his clan is, I doubt that homemade clothes would catch his sight." Then her expression brightened some. "But I suppose that I can dream."

Softly snorting, Moriko jabbed her fork in the direction of her sister. "You can do more then dream. Besides, I've seen your dresses, and had you make some for me. They're great."

From where she sat beside Sachiko, Suzume chimed in. "Besides, you're well read, smart, funny, and very good looking. Heck, once you're fully healthy, you'll be knocking the socks off everyone from here to Okinawa and Hokkaido." The blush on Sachiko's face made her grin. "So don't worry too much."

Back straightening, Sachiko hummed happily. "Still, I'm going to be enjoying today and the rest of Fleet Week."

Laughing, Moriko grinned. "There's the spirit that our Imouto has! And we're all going to be enjoying it!"

Once the meal was finished, and Sachiko was given her iron supplements, the three got ready for their day. Though the youngest of the three was somewhat embarrassed as both Moriko and Suzume got camerasready, it also made her happy. After all, she didn't want to forget this day.

 

[darthcourt10]

Snippet 42: S0ngD0g13

Canut walked toward one of the CAs in her class, mentally activating one of the newer runic arrays on Keelbreaker; the staff shifted smoothly into a waster, a wooden training-longsword. "Nerio, watch me." She gestured to Nerio's opponent, another Ne-Class armed with a single-handed arming sword. "In slow-time, Nepenthe."

Nepenthe swung a cut in at Canut's right leg, and the Battleship Demon imitated Nerio in stepping toward Nepenthe's rightt while parrying. "Pause." Both combatants froze, leaving Canut holding Keelbreaker point-down with the arming sword well-away from her legs. "This is good," Canut said. "You've moved out of your foe's line of attack and cleared their blade to make an opening, if you're fast-enough to exploit it."

"How? My sword's too long; at that short distance I can't get it in-play."

Canut smiled. "A sword is a weapon, Nerio; all of a sword is a weapon. The answer to short range and with a long sword is called half-swording. Nepenthe, reset, same opening-cut at full-speed, on my mark. Nerio, watch closely." They retook their stances, and Canut nodded. Nepenthe whipped her sword in at Canut's leg; the Mistress-at-Arms stepped aside and parried, then her left hand moved from the grip to the blade and she hooked Nepenthe in the cheek with the hilt before driving the pommel toward her throat. Nepenthe dodged backward before thrusting at Canut, only to have her blade deflected again and be forced back by a counter-stab as Canut wielded the wooden longsword in a manner more akin to a short spear.

As she and Nepenthe continued sparring, Canut spoke. "Did you know, Nerio, that the verb 'to pummel' comes from the word 'pommel'? When all you have is a sword and there's no time to find a gap in your opponent's armor with your point, you can do this." Canut moved her other hand onto the blade and swung the sword like a pickaxe, deflecting Nepenthe's blade away and then using the momentum of that parry to swing...

... and stop the blow at the very last moment. Nepenthe, well-used to Canut's philosophy that more bruises and sweat in training meant less wounds and blood in combat, opened her eyes to see the heavy pommel of the transformed Keelbreaker hovering a half-inch from her temple.

Canut stepped back, smiling. "Good bout, Nepenthe; go take a drink. Nerio, come here. Follow my motions..." She started half-swording in slow-time, watching until she was certain Nerio had a grasp of the techniques before telling the Cruiser to keep practicing and looked around.

"Rosaline, you need to be more supple in the wrist if you're going to use a saber. Step off to one side and do moulinets. Here, watch me." Canut demonstrated the flowing figure-eight cuts used to keep a swordsman's wrist flexible, then smiled, watching her pupils.

"Talisman, when you're moving, don't cross your feet; it puts you off-balance. Watch." Keelbreaker changed forms into a staff again. "Advance a step." Once Talisman had gotten halfway through, her feet once again crossed, Canut said, "Freeze. Now, if I were an enemy and I did like so..." Canut kicked Talisman's left ankle toward the unbalanced Battleship's right, sending her over onto her side. When Talisman rolled over to stand, she was pressed back to the ground by the tip of Keelbreaker against her throat. "And now you're dead. Up."

Talisman stood and took up her stance again as Canut spoke. "Now, advance one step, without crossing your feet. Front-foot then back-foot." As Talisman was stepping forward, her front-foot off the ground, Canut kicked it aside, and Talisman simply planted the foot to keep from falling. "Feel the difference? Much more stable, isn't it? To practice, do three laps around the perimeter of the palace, advancing like that."

........................................................
DARTHCOURT NOTE NONCANON AFTER THIS VVVVVV


That evening, Canut sat outside and listened to Argyll MacHamish off in the distance, piping the sunset, passing a stoneware jug of Sutherland MacHamish's first batch of Kölsch beer between herself, Angband, and Ruithidh. "It was a good day, I believe. Made all the better by this good beer; you said Sutherland has some more in the barrels?"

"Aye, she does. A Märzen for in September, an' a Doppelbock for Yuletide. Casca has a sherry an' a tawny port in the cellars aging as well, and she's mentioned swappin' for fruits tae make brandies." Ruithidh chuckled and took a long pull from the jug.

Angband accepted the jug when it came to her, sipping the beer to wash down a bite of mutton from the plate of kebabs by her side. She cocked an ear. "What song is that; the tune seems familiar..."

Ruithidh closed her eyes and listened. "It's False Sir John; there's versions o' it called Lady Isabel and the Elf-Knight, an' most Scots know it as Mae Colvin. False Sir John woos a rich lass intae runnin' awa' wi' him on her da's best horse, but stops them at the river." She listened, then sang in a husky alto...

"Step doon, step doon fair Mae Colvin,
Yer bridal-bed tae see;
It's seven young maidens I have drowned,
An' the eighth one ye shall be, shall be;
The eighth one ye shall be...

Tak' off, tak' off yer fine silk gown,
An' the doeskin boots ye wear,
Fer to lose th' coin from th' sellin' o' them
Is more than I could bear, could bear;
Is more than I could bear...

'Turn 'round, turn 'round, then,
False Sir John,
An look tae th' leaf o' th' tree;
Ye'll hae m' boots an' fine silk gown,
But I'll hae my modesty, ye see;
I'll hae my modesty...'

False Sir John, he's turned around,
An' looked tae the willow-tree;
She's thrown him doon th' steep, steep bank
An' intae th' river deep, sae deep;
Intae th' river deep...

Oh help, oh help fair Mae Colvin;
Oh help or I shall drown;
I'll tak' ye back tae yer father's house,
An' leave ye safe an' sound, sae sound;
Leave ye safe and sound...

'No help ye'll get frae me, False John,
No help nor pity be;
Seven young maidens have ye drowned,
But th' eighth one shan't be me, be me;
Th' eighth one shan't be me...'

Sae False Sir John in th' river drowned,
An' sank there out o' sight;
Mae Colvin took her da's grey mare
An' was home afore daylight, daylight;
Rode home afore daylight..."

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts Omake: Rose visits a certain bar

Right, um... distraction time! Omake!
_________________________________________________________________________

Head tilted to the side, Rose considered the building that they were walking towards before turning to Haruna. "Is this truly the bar that Miss Jersey was talking about?"

With a smile, the shipgirl beside her nodded. "Hai! Jersey told Haruna that she had great fun here with Musashi once. So Haruna wanted to try this bar with Rose-Chan."

Tapping her chin, Rose considered that before nodding, "Well, I do not see much issue with it, Haruna. Besides which, we do have quite some time before the next flight to Japan." Upon entering, the two women blinked as various tough looking characters turned towards them. Rose just placed her umbrella on her shoulder and gave them all a look, which made those there turn away. 'Reminds me of some of the places that a few of my Mistresses used to frequent down by the docks.'

Once they got to the bar and took a seat, the bartender looked them over before his eyes widened slightly in recognition. "Uh, right. So, what can I get you?"

For several moments, Rose considered the choices on the menu before pointing. "I think that I would like a nice lager."

Beside her, Haruna nodded and raised a hand. "Haruna would like much the same as Rose-Chan."

Just nodding, the bartender ducked below the counter to start looking. However, he started to get nervous as the bar went quiet and his worst fears were realized as a female voice spoke up. "I would like a nice glass of milk, please."

Slowly, the bartender raised his head to find himself looking at eyes behind a pair of glasses which made him gulp. "Um, well, we still don't serve milk here..."

As the woman's eyebrow rose, a throat was cleared and Rose gave the bartender a look before pointing at the menu. "You do have white Russians here, which it seems use milk. So you should have some milk for the young lady here."

The other woman blinked and looked at Rose with some amusement in her gaze. "Young lady?"

Only nodding, Rose smiled and met her eyes. "Indeed, well, compared to me anyways." For several moments the two stared at each other while the others there outside of Haruna became more and more nervous. Suddenly, the tsukumogami held out a hand as both were smiles, as if they saw something in the other they respected and acknowledged. "Rose Potter."

Introducing herself, the woman in the maid outfit tilted her head as she shook Rose's hand. "Roberta." Bemused, she smiled a bit. "Are you a maid as well?"

Rose gave a chuckle and nodded. "As a matter of fact, I am. Or at least in most ways, I suspect even though Master sees me more as family then anything else."

Expression brightening, Roberta gave a smile to that. "I see, well, it is much the same with my Master as well." The blush on her face got a knowing look from Rose before she cleared her throat. "How, family-wise, does your Master see you?"

Humming, Rose accepted the beer she got before taking a sip. "Master sees me more as a big sister or an aunt. Not that I mind too much, as I have served his family for the past hundred or so years." At the confusion, she gestured at herself. "I am a tea set tsukumogami."

All Roberta did was furrow her eyebrows before chuckling, "I remember now, you were both in the newspapers and on the news stations." Tilting her head towards Haruna, she smiled a bit more. "Congradulations to the both of you."

For her part, Haruna just smiled back and raised a glass of beer. "Thank you, Roberta-San."

When the glass of milk was placed in front of the maid, Rose gestured to it. "If I may ask a question, which do you prefer for your milk? Plain, chocolate, or perhaps strawberry? Because I know back in Yokosuka Miss White Plains states that strawberry is best."

Somewhat bemused, Roberta considered the question. "Now that is an interesting question..." For the next hour, the two spoke with each other and an odd friendship was formed with Rose giving the other woman tips. Looking down at a notepad, Roberta nodded some at the recipe that she was given. "And this would help put children to sleep after nightmares?"

Nodding, Rose finished off her drink with a smile. "Oh yes! Its not too complicated and easy to make. I know that Master for instance made some for his adopted little sister, Hoppou. Put the dear right to sleep after some bad nightmares she had." A twinkle in her eye, she gave the other woman an amused look. "Perhaps it might come into use soon for you?"

Roberta lightly blushed but smiled back and was about to say something when the door was kicked in before one pointed at Roberta. "THERE SHE IS! THAT BITCH FROM THE LAST TIME!"

Eyebrow raised, Rose looked at the other woman while Haruna continued to sip her drink. "Friends of yours?"

Picking up her umbrella, the maid shook her head. "I am afraid not, Miss Rose. Though I suspect this is because of my last... visit."

Before Rose could comment, another door was kicked in and another group burst in with those inside rushing to various places as one of the new guys shouted in a New York accent. "FUCKING MAGICAL FREAKS! WE'RE HERE TO CLEANSE THE WORLD OF YOUR UNNATURAL TAINT!"

Giving a sigh, the tsukumogami shook her head. "And these are not friends either it would seem." Head tilted to the side, she frowned. "I wonder if these are some of those scourers that we were warned about...?"
Just looking over the two groups, Roberta frowned before glancing at Rose. "Are you going to be quite okay?"

Simply smiling back, Rose took her umbrella and with a flick of her wrist, sent a stool flying across the room. It hit the target exactly, knocking him out. "I believe that I am able to teach these ruffians some manners though I do not use guns." Turning, she gave them all a smile that made them back up a little. "Such scoundrels picking on defenseless young women such as ourselves."

Light glinting off her glasses as the armored plate for the bar came down, Roberta nodded. "Quite. How very rude."

Of course, that was when the door was busted in and a screaming woman with a gun in either hand burst in and started firing them at the first group.

Haruna, meanwhile, sat on her stool as bullets either passed her, or dinged off her. Watching as Rose leapt up and gave a kick to the head of one man, her umbrella snagging the neck of another and slammed his face into a table, the Battleship felt her boilers running a bit hot. Then a bullet his her glass and shattered it, spilling her drink. Looking at it, Haruna sighed before standing up and straightening her outfit... right before rushing into the brawl.

Not long later, Rose and Haruna was walking away from the smoking ruins of what had once been a bar. While parts of the building still stood, it was not much. Waving to Roberta who was departing, Rose gave a sigh. "Well, that was rather exciting.'

A smile on her face, Haruna gave a nod. "Hai, Rose-Chan. It was." Raising a finger, she giggled some. "And Rose-Chan even made a new friend!"

Giggling herself, Rose smiled herself. "Oh yes! Miss Roberta is quite interesting." Looking back over her shoulder at the bar, her smile became a slight frown. "Though I do believe that bar will need some patchwork." Even as they watched, the rest of the bar collapsed. "Yes, perhaps a new coat of paint as well."

Just humming, Haruna lead Rose off towards a hotel that they had been told about by their new friend. Meanwhile, the bartender was grabbing his hair as if he wanted to pull it out as he screamed to the sky. "WHAT THE FUCK!? IT IS EVEN WORSE THEN THE LAST FUCKING TIME!"

 

[darthcourt10]

Yellowhammer

A Midnight Melody

National Museum of the United States Navy
Washington, DC

The museum was silent and dark. During the day, hundreds of visitors filled it with life and light, ranging from tours of schoolchildren to elderly veterans looking at the artifacts on display from the ships that they had served on. All matter of artifacts were there from a reconstructed gundeck from Old Ironsides herself to the bridge of USS Fletcher in the wing on World War II in the Pacific. Proud fighting ships one and all were honored...along with one that was not and had never been a fighter.

Unlike her distant cousins in the Silent Service and even more distant kin in the surface fleet, she had never even carried a pistol to fend off sharks, much less the instruments of war they wielded. The display area on ocean exploration where she sat was frequently overlooked now that war once more stained the oceans red and her cousins and distant relatives fought foes from the deepest nightmares of humanity. She silently cheered them on both out of shared familial pride and also so that the Navy could get back to what she felt was its most important mission. Not that she brought that up with her kin, for she knew that on the subject of pacifism that she was a minority of one.

A visitor stumbling upon her with no understanding of her role would think that her designer was a drunk or a madman. What naval architect would mount her propellers on top of the hull, to either side of her conning tower? While the lines of her hull showed her relationship to her cousins in the submarines, the smooth streamlining that let them swim through the waves like sharks was marred by the unsightly bulge of a seven-foot diameter sphere connected to the bottom of her hull, seemingly as out of place as Yamato attending a destroyer family reunion.

Now, with the museum dark, silent, and still-just the way she preferred it-any magically aware person with eyes to see would have spotted a transparent young petite woman sitting on the hull next to her conning tower. Clad in a full body deep-diving suit mirroring the white and red of her hull, her midnight black hair was trimmed short in a pixie cut to allow it to fit into the massive steel sphere headgear of her suit. With a creak of steel, she leaned back against her conning tower next to the painted roundel containing her crest and motto of "Pensate Profunde-Think Deeply" and closed her eyes, listening to the faintest trace of a slow, somber, hauntingly beautiful melody that she had heard once before.

Mysterious, alluring, and melancholy it was, with a sadness as deep as the depths of the sea and with all her heart the girl ached to find the heartbroken singer half a world away from her.

Patience, Singer, one day when your kin and mine allow it, I shall seek you out once more, Trieste thought as she listened to the song with her hydrophones.

Her full lips curled in a happy, patient smile as she remembered the first time she had heard the Singer.

11°19′47.650″N 142°11′57.498″E
23 January, 1960
35,814 feet above the Challenger Deep

Trieste stood invisibly on her conning tower and looked at the small flotilla of ships escorting her as she bobbed on a perfect Pacific day. The access hatch to her observation gondola clanged shut with a thud that she felt in her steel bones, and she looked at the nearest ship to her with one of her serene, secretive smiles.

On the quarterdeck of the destroyer escort USS Lewis, a ghostly young blond girl looked back at Trieste with a worried look as Trieste donned and locked her helmet. Trieste gave an OK sign with one hand, then Lewis mirrored it before gulping nervously, one hand worrying her quarterdeck rail. She had both survived the fury of the angry Pacific when she had sailed through a typhoon that nearly capsized her, and the horrors of war off Okinawa and Korea. But SECNAV save her if she was willing to do what her quiet Italian-American friend was about to do! She had been born to hunt submarines and knew full well what happened to a ship who dove too deep.

Trieste gave a thumbs up and a reassuring smile as the water rushed about her and she slipped beneath the waves. Soon not even a ripple revealed where she had been.

Below, all was azure blue as the sun shone through the water. Trieste laughed joyfully at the flashes of silver as a school of mackerel passed her, followed by a hungry tuna. She looked around in pure bliss, ignoring how she was plummeting deeper. Slowly the light faded and the light azure of the sunkissed waters changed to a darker cerulean blue, then even darker ultramarine.

Around her she heard the creaks of her hull and the clicks and calls of marine life, and she closed her eyes to hear the sounds of the world surrounding her before looking at the Swiss watch strapped to her wrist. It was counting down the seconds since she had submerged, and she ran the automatic calculations of depth and air remaining before flipping on her fathometer to confirm. The ping of her sonar attracted a small school of ghostly Humboldt squid who saw the intruder into their realm as potential prey. Trieste smiled at them before they fled from her with jets of ink, vanishing without a trace.

The water was now the darkest indigo, and Trieste happily looked around her despite being barely able to see her white-painted hull. A half hour had passed and she was entering the bathyal zone a mile deep. Cold, dark, and mysterious, here even the idea of sunlight was foreign. A resident of the midnight blackness of the deep ocean only brought the light that she carried with her, and with that, Trieste's quartz-arc lightbulbs flared to life, driving back the darkness to reveal a ghostly 'bacteria snow' falling from the more hospitable regions above.

Like something out of a nightmare, a humpbacked anglerfish, all black oozing scaleless skin, distended mouth, fangs, and slowly moving fins waved it's bioluminescent lure at her hopefully before fleeing. She waved the deep-sea ambush predator farewell as she felt her crew record the observation in her logbook. Two more hours, she thought, before resuming her silent observation of places that no shipgirl had ever seen as she sank further into the abyssal gloom of the deep ocean.

An hour and a half later, it was very cold. Cold and dark, as she seemed to hang suspended in a blacker than black void well over five and a half miles deep as she fell endlessly through the primal night that was the bottom of the Pacific. She knew that if some deity plunged the tallest mountain on Earth to the depths where she was, it would not even break the surface as she journeyed even deeper than she had ever been. Even as well built as she was, and as experienced as she had become in other, lesser, dives and forays to this realm of darkness, her heart raced at flank. This was the ultimate test of herself and she welcomed it, sparing a moment of pity for all her cousins and friends who would never, could never understand much less embrace the temptation of the deepest part of the seas that were their birthright.

She slowly turned her head to survey her faint bubble of light she had brought here, ignoring the thousands of pounds of steadily increasing pressure on every inch of her hull from the miles of water which she had descended through for well over three hours. Suddenly her hull shook and a loud bang filled her ears, along with a stabbing pain. Her eyes focused on a hairline crack on the plexiglass of her faceplate and her hand clenched on the control that would jettison her ballast to escape the deadly crushing embrace of the water here at the bottom of the planet.

Then, she heard it. A slow, melancholy sussurus of sound. A whisper more felt than heard calling to her to come find the singer, to go further and deeper than anyone had traveled before, to see and hear things unimaginable. A call of a terribly lonely heart who ached to share the wonders of her midnight realm in the Abyss to the visitor brave and strong enough to seek her out.

Trieste hesitated as she listened, torn between safety and curiosity, between fear and wonder. She then slowly released her death grip on the ballast control as the bottom of the Challenger Deep approached, eyes wide in a mix of awe and terror. Outside the corona of light that she projected, she sensed more than saw flickers of movement in the corner of her eye that vanished as she looked for the singer of that terribly beautiful melody. The song swelled and filled her heart with a deep longing greater than any she had ever known to find the kindred spirit who called to her from this unexplored wonderland. Wordlessly, she hummed in counterpoint in a duet with the call of the abyssal singer awaiting her, before the song suddenly broke off in shock mirroring her first taste of this melody.

Somehow, she knew that the time was not yet right for her to meet the singer, and regretfully she accepted that. After all, what would life be without mysteries to uncover, without challenges to overcome, without the next step to take past the boundaries of human understanding? A glance at her watch revealed that her time here was at an end and she blinked away tears before grasping the ballast control to begin her ascent to the surface. Struck by a sudden impulse as her iron ballast released, Trieste called into the gloom. "Wait for me! One day we shall meet!"

Lightless silence answered her as she began her ascent to the sunlit uplands, leaving behind her ballast as a silent monument to her presence. Silence as dark and deep and mysterious as the Abyss itself.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

At the knock on his door, Harry blinked some and walked over. Upon opening it, he gave a chuckle at who was there. "Natsumi-Chan!" Seeing who else was there, the wizard's smile widened a touch as he bowed a bit. "Asuka-San, Ayaka-San, Usagi-San, Kaku-San, and Rika-San." Harry then opened the door some. "Come on in."

Taking a moment to remove her shoes, Asuka took the time to glance around the apartment. Not a whole lot was there to identify it as being a magical household, though there were some odds and ends here and there. In an odd way, it was somewhat disappointing as she would have thought that the household of a shipgirl would be much... odder.

Which was when she stepped into view of the kitchen and sighted Juuchi laying in a pile of blood oranges and peels. "Um..."

Eyebrow raised, Harry looked in that direction and sighed some. "Dammit, Juuchi!" All the blade did though was expel a smugness in the air. "Don't give me that!"

Surprised, Rika stared at the sword for a bit. "Is that... really Juuchi Yosamu? Of legend?"

Ignoring the amount of smug that was increasing, the black haired boy sighed. "Yes, unfortunately so." The sword rattled in response before he snarked at it. "Oh yes, because the feared sword of the Potters is so frightful laying on a pile of orange peels. You much be the terror of maids everywhere." Once more, the sword rattled and there was the feeling of angry smug in the air. "No, I don't care that Rose considers herself my servant. Honestly, the image you project... Honjo does a better job then you."

Needless to say, everyone felt annoyance in the air and Usagi took a step back. "Um... she might be a bit annoyed at that..."

Much to their surprise, outside of Natsumi who was used to it, Harry just shrugged. "Yeah, and? She's a messy eater and Honjo has more then once commented on it." Another rattle could be heard and he chuckled. "Yes, that has nothing to do with how you have served my family since the 1600s, but it still looks bad on you."

Glancing back and forth, Asuka frowned some. "Wait, your family has had her since the 1600s? Seriously?"

Only nodding, Harry smiled a bit. "Yeah, she's been in the family since sometime in the 1610s off hand. We were actually given her as a reward for saving a noblewoman." At their looks of curiosity, he began to tell them the story behind how his family had come into possession of the Muramasa. "... And that's about it."

For several seconds, the young Yokai stared at him before Ayaka tried to say something and paused. Then she blinked and furrowed her eyebrows. "Wait, so your ancestor who gained possession of her... was in a sort of three way relationship with the Japanese noblewoman, his own wife, with the two women pretending to be each other at various times to throw off anyone thinking otherwise? And your ancestor using polyjuice and some transfiguration probably to look like a Japanese man from Hokkaido? So... there could be other lines out there of your family?"

Weakly chuckling, Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Well... um, yes? Though, er... that's not the only Japanese line." Seeing their interest, he sheepishly grinned. "Another ancestor of mine helped sire a clan in Hokkaido made up of Yuki-Onna, Hone-Onna, and Tsurara-Onna during the 1860s. Met them when I headed up there due to Hoppou's daughters."

It went without saying he got a large number of stares before Kaku nodded with an impressed look on his face. "Huh, congrats on finding some Itoko then, I suppose. And that's a pretty impressive feat. With that and your ancestor involving Juuchi, that explains where you got it."

Moments later, he got whacked upside the head by Rika followed by Ayaka, Usagi, and finally Natsumi while Asuka just looked blankly on. Eventually the Tengu shook her head some and looked back at Juuchi who seemed to expel smugness at the gaze. Finally, she frowned some in thought. "Um, Harry-San?" At his nod, Asuka continued. "What does Juuchi look like? I mean, her human form?"

The answer somewhat shocked her as he shrugged. "Don't know, I've never seen it myself. Every time that I've come close, she just turns back into a sword before I can do so." At the feeling of smug amusement, his tone became dry. "I suspect that she has a lot of fun with it."

Jaw dropping, Asuka boggled a bit as she looked between Harry and Juuchi. "Wait, you've never seen it? Ever?" When he nodded, she scratched her hair. "Weird."

Somewhat bemused by the question and the response to his answer, Harry raised an eyebrow. "What's so weird about it, if you don't mind me asking?"

Now shrugging herself, Asuka shook her head. "Because I've met her sisters back in Zuchi. They're all pretty nice to be honest, though Akutoku can get to be a bit... much. Chisuheri usually reels her in to be honest as does Umitsubame since the others can't."

Eyebrows furrowing, it took a few moments for Kaku to place the names. "Wait, Chisuheri? Who welded herself into a peace bond in one of the biggest 'Fuck yous' ever to Kamo who was trying to force her to join him? Who's almost a Buddhist monk? And Akutoku, the Sword of Corruption?"

With a nod, Asuka chuckled. "Yeah, though she's actually a lot of fun. Akutoku doesn't do that sort of thing much anymore except trying to pull her fellow blades into various shenanigans..." Then she frowned some in thought. "Or her manga, since from what I heard that is corrupting the youth of Japan to become shut ins or something." At the looks, the teen shook her head. "I'm not allowed to read most of them since they're for adults. Though I have read one of them since she based the character on Kagotsuruhe."

Her eyes widening, Usagi nodded rapidly. "Oh! I actually read those to be honest!" Reaching into her small purse, she pulled out a manga. "They're great, I mean the character looks like a smiling, yandere type, but all she does is just slice of life things."

Amusement could be felt and it only took a few moments for them to realize that it was Juuchi. With a shrug, Usagi held it up so that the blade could see the title. Harry meanwhile sighed and rubbed the side of his head. "And... I am sure that I now know what will be the next thing that I will be finding around here."

Just shrugging helplessly, Asuka giggled a bit. Her tails twitching, Rika looked at her friend with an intrigued look. "Do any of the others hang out here in Yokosuka? I mean, besides them?"

Tapping her chin, the Tengu considered the question before nodding. "Well, I've met Kagotsuruhe actually, she's... nice? Besides the whole 'Doesn't have emotions' bit she has going on. Norimune is pretty cool, though sometimes she gets pulled into Akutoku's shenanigans too easily. Also Suisei drops by every so often too, her baking is amazing and I love her cookies." Everyone was smiling and then Asuka continued. "Though Kyoshu is also often here in Yokosuka as well, though she's odd-"

Before she could continue, all of them froze at a spike of terror followed by rage, hatred, and sheer bloodlust that filled the air. The sound of a sword being drawn made them look at Juuchi who had unsheathed herself by a quarter. Heart pounding in her chest, Usagi was hyperventilating as she stared as the sword unveiled another inch. "A-Asuka... I think you pissed her off for some reason!"

Harry meanwhile narrowed his eyes and took steps towards Juuchi. "That is enough, Juuchi!" When she did not stop and reveal instead another inch of her blade, he growled. "I said, stop that!"

With that, his hand shot out and grabbed the hilt as Kaku took a step forward. "Harry-San, wait!"

More then most, Kaku understood that Harry now had the full force of a Muramasa's murderous power focused on him. Much to his shock though, the wizard only grunted as the anger, hatred, pure and unrelenting rage slammed into his mind right before he dismissed it. Grabbing the sheath, Harry pushed Juuchi's hilt closer and closer to where he could click her shut. "Minagato! Get some wire right now!"

The smol, shaken as she was by the continued outpourings of dark emotions, jumped to it. "Gato!"

Finally, there was less then a quarter inch between her being fully back in her sheath and not. Quickly, Harry tapped his finger against her blade to produce some blood and then slammed it shut and held it even as sweat gathered on his brow while Juuchi fought him. Inside his head, he could hear her. 'Kill! Kill! KILL HER BEFORE SHE KILLS YOU! NOW, HURRY! BATHE IN BLOOD BEFORE SHE CAN STRIKE!'

Voice low, Harry let out a growl that caused more then one of them to take a step back as his arms shook. "Hell no, Juuchi. Now calm the bloody heck down, now!" It was then that he understood what was going on. "JUUCHI! Kyoshu is not here right now! Calm yourself!"

Less then a minute later found Juuchi peace tied into her sheath and while there was still the feeling of anger and hate, it was much diminished with annoyance coming from her. Looking from Juuchi to Harry who was wiping the sweat from his brow, a shaken Asuka just swallowed. "Um... what just happened here?"

Taking a deep breath to center himself, Harry ran a hand through his damp hair. "From what I can tell? Juuchi got pissed when you mentioned that Kyoshu person." Another spike of hate and anger along with a slight feeling of fear made the wizard look at her. "Yeah, those two must have some sort of history with bad feelings."

Natsumi gave a small snort and looked at him. "British understatement, folks."

As Harry rolled his eyes, Ayaka looked from the sword to said wizard and swallowed. "How?" Seeing his confusion, she continued. "How did you pull that off!? Muramasa blades drive their users to bloodshed, and Juuchi is especially known for that! Yet you shrugged it off! HOW?!"

Chuckling, the thirteen year old boy shook his head and grabbed a glass before filling it with juice. "Its something about us Potters, we're the only ones who can use wield her in a fight without losing ourselves or something. From what I read in my family, we got something that makes it so a Potter can recognize what is not theirs when it comes to emotions and then shrug it off. We can resist mind control and the like, I guess and need to accept it in the case of cheering charms."

Eyebrows raised, Usagi frowned in thought before accepting a glass from Harry. "That... sounds pretty useful." When he shrugged, she continued in her head. 'I wonder if that counts for any of the other Muramasas?'

Just as Harry was about to reply, Juuchi's blade slid across the countertop until it stopped by him and gave a rattle best it could. Looking at her, the black haired wizard frowned. "I am not taking you with me, Juuchi." Another rattle could be heard, somehow more forceful. "Considering what you just did? Can I trust you now to pull that again?" Once more, there was a rattle and Harry considered her before sighing. "Look, I'll be fine, Juuchi. I don't know what the deal with this Kyoshu is, but I'm safe on the base."

Not long after, the wizard lead them out of the apartment and shut the door after leaving a note. Almost as soon as the door was shut, Tsukiakari poked her head out from Harry's room before frowning. Making her way over to Juuchi, she untied the wire keeping her close and soon after, the Muramasa's human avatar appeared. "Um, Sempai? What was that?"

Hissing, Juuchi turned to her. "It would seem that one of my dear sisters is about. And we must protect our Lord from her at all costs, Tsukiakari, for she will attack him if given the chance. Simply to bring me pain, which I will not allow." With a deep breath, she let out a sigh and grabbed for a phone. "Now, excuse me while I call Honjo. As much as I may despise her, in this case I would rather have her along as well."

Tsukiakari boggled a bit at that before she thought it over and gave a small nod. "Um, I see..." Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the note and read it. "Sempai? He left us a note."

A frown on her face, Juuchi took it and quickly read it over before thinly smiling. "It would appear that our Lord knew that I would find a way to follow him. And all he asks is that we do not kill unnecessarily nor do we discomfort his friends. Very well, that I can do..."

 

[darthcourt10]

Weaver

Friday, 9th August 2013

Sitting in the car that had picked him and his friends up from the train station, Dan wiped his palms on his trousers for the second time in five minutes. Lewis gave him a sideways look from the seat next to him.

"Nervous?"

"Yeah. A bit."

That was something of an understatement. Yes, he was excited at the prospect of taking part in an official summoning, but the fact was that he was going to be going into an active Naval base and meeting some very important people so he couldn't help but be worried about making a good impression. Even choosing what he was going to wear had taken him the better part of a day, with his Sea Cadets uniform being considered before being deemed inappropriate and rejected in favour of the suit he'd worn to his cousin's wedding the year before and which thankfully still fit him.

Adam spoke up from the seat behind him.

"Relax. If anyone should be worried here it's me, I'm the one who's venturing into enemy territory."

Noticing the driver giving him an odd look in the rear view mirror at that comment, he answered the unasked question.

"I'm in the army cadets."

The driver smiled slightly at that.

"Don't worry, we won't hold that against you. Any of you lads been over here before?"

As his friends all answered in the negative, Dan shrugged.

"I went on a school trip to the historic quay in primary school the year before Blood Week but that's it."

Nothing much was said after that and a couple of minutes later they arrived at the base's gates. A few minutes after that they piled out of the car, straightened their clothes and were led to a nearby building that had some familiar faces waiting at the entrance in the form of Awa Maru and Vetch along with some unfamiliar ones that Dan judged to be corvettes and frigates going by their apparent age. Greetings were exchanged and they were introduced to HMS Godetia, HMS Snapdragon, HMS Odzani and HMS Plym before going inside.

Walking down the corridor, Dan found himself next to Awa Maru and Vetch.

"So, anything interesting happen since Monday?"

Vetch shrugged.

"Not really. Speaking of Monday, how's Zetland doing? I haven't had chance to visit her since then."

"To be honest, I think she's a bit overwhelmed. The media circus has died down but she's still getting a lot of visitors and a lot of the current and former lifeboat volunteers are being a bit much."

"Oh? How so?"

By now they'd arrived at the entrance to the summoning chamber. Finding it closed and no one else there they stood waiting.

"Depending on the person it's like they've met a major celebrity, a shipgirl that they have history with, and a long lost family member. Sometimes all three at once. If they're not bringing or offering to bring her stuff they're extending invitations for her to stay with them or go to their's for dinner if she ever manages to get further away from her hull."

Vetch grimaced.

"I can see how that would be overwhelming for her."

"Yeah. She's having some trouble with the paperwork to make her personhood official too."

"Anything I can help her with?"

"Not really. Part of it is just that she's not used to dealing with paperwork but she's got people helping her with that. The other problem is that she doesn't have a hull number and she doesn't know what to use as a surname. I don't know what's stopping her from using the name of her shipyard but her reason for not wanting to use her designer's surname was, and I quote, 'Henry Greathead may be the nearest thing she has to a father, but his name was an unfortunate one'. I admit, she has a point."

Vetch and Awa Maru made noises of agreement. Meanwhile Dan heard Lewis talking behind him.

"So have you been to many summonings?"

"No", answered a voice that Dan tentatively identified as Plym. "I was only summoned myself in June and this has been the first one since then."

"Oh? How are you finding the twenty-first century so far then?"

Whatever her reply was Dan didn't catch it as he had to return his attention to his own conversation when Vetch spoke.

"Any news regarding the rot problem?"

"Someone's coming to do an inspection to see just how bad it is the week after next. Anything else will be decided after that."

Vetch nodded.

"Let her know that she doesn't have to worry about paying for it. I've had a word with the other girls on the base and some of my sisters elsewhere and if it doesn't get official funding we'd all be happy to chip in."

Awa Maru spoke up.

"As would I. She may not be the boat that helped to save my crew but she could be considered a relative and that's enough for me."

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a group of naval officers, the highest ranking of them greeting the boys with a smile as Dan snapped to attention.

"Hello. I'm Commodore Anderson. You must be the young men I've heard so much about."

There was a chorus of "Yes sirs".

"As you know your summoning of Miss Awa Maru here shouldn't have been as successful as it was. We don't know why that was yet but as I'm sure you've heard about our track record regarding summonings and while we've got no complaints with the shipgirls we've summoned we're still hoping that you can help us break the pattern. This way."

With that he swept past them and into the room. The boys and shipgirls followed. Dan caught Vetch's attention.

"Anyone you're hoping to get?"

Vetch nodded.

"My sisters and I have been waiting for Gladiolus to be summoned, both because she's our sister and because there are a lot of unanswered questions about what happened to her."

"Why?"

"She disappeared while escorting a convoy in 1941. We assume she was sunk but have no idea how or by what."

"Yeah, I can see why you'd want that question answered."

Looking around the summoning room, Dan absently noted that it wasn't as fancy as some of those he'd seen pictures of, which he supposed was to be expected given that it's existence was the result of someone deciding to ask forgiveness rather than permission in the early days of the war. Then again, given that he'd summoned Awa Maru outdoors with a freshly dug hole in the sand fanciness probably didn't count for much.

Everyone took their positions and those officiating started reciting the various parts of the incantation, which was far wordier and more formal than what he'd said to summon Awa Maru.

It worked though. All of the summoning materials vanished in sparkles of light and there was a lot of sloshing from within the pool before a voice called out.

"Er, hello?"

Everyone moved forward to look down at the pool and found four girls standing on the surface, all of whom were definitely much bigger, and thus older looking, than a frigate.

The Commodore spoke.

"I am Commodore David Anderson of the Royal Navy. Can you please identify yourselves?"

The two girls at the front promptly stood to attention.

"HMS Ambrose, or Cochrane I suppose, at your service."

"HMS Misoa reporting for duty. I'm not much good in a fight but if you need any tanks moving I'm the ship for the job."

The two shipgirls behind them looked more confused but introduced themselves after the others.

"USS McCawley."

"USS Barnett."

A faint but audible groan left one of the officers. Dan could guess the cause; the prospect of dealing with whatever paperwork was associated with summoning another country's ships. He belatedly hoped that the summoning of Awa Maru hadn't caused them too much trouble.

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts/Death_Sheep Crosspost 2

Have a crosspost from Death_Sheep over on SV:
________________________________________________________

Well, here's something to tide folks over with:

Will and Sarah quickly fell into a routine working at Project Memory. Every day, they'd pull boxes of records, starting in January of 1958 and working forwards, and check the documents contained within. Anything Abyssal related and anything about Obliviation and memory-charming No-Majs got duplicated, with the copies being placed in secured containers that J.R. would collect when full, for transportation to somewhere else. Once a week, they'd check the climate control, lighting, expansion, and preservation charms, recasting as necessary. At the end of their first month, J.R. showed them how to check and reinforce the various security spells (anti-No-Maj, anti-portkey, anti-Apparition, Unplottable Charm, etc.).

It was while leaving the ward room that Will decided to ask J.R. about something the old wizard had mentioned when they first met. "J.R., when you first showed us the warehouse, you mentioned 'what MACUSA did to the Native Americans' and 'the Perry Expedition' as things that the No-Majs' would be upset about when the Statute falls. What did you mean by that? Because I don't remember anything about either topic getting mentioned in History of Magic at Ilvermorny."

Sarah nodded. "Yeah, I was two years ahead of Will, and I don't remember anything about those either."

"Hmph. Who was your History of Magic teacher, Saul Brophy?" asked J.R.

"Professor Brophy retired after my first year," said Sarah, "and he was only teaching NEWT-level students for the last decade before he retired. We both had Professor Abner Whately."

J.R. scowled thunderously and spat on the ground. "Whately. That damnyankee family's always been what my granddaughter would call 'MACUSA, Fuck Yeah!' types. Yeah, you kids wouldn't have learned anything that makes MACUSA look bad from him. Which I suppose makes it my responsibility to educate you. C'mon, I'm gonna need a drink for this."

Carter led them to his actual quarters in the residential annex off the main document storage area. Will and Sarah sat on his couch while the old wizard grabbed a ceramic jug and a Mason jar out of a cabinet, pouring a stiff jar of 'shine before sitting in his old rocking chair. "The first thing you need to know to understand what MACUSA was like, is that sometimes the fact that we magicals can live a lot longer than No-Majs bites us on the ass. Both my grandfathers died before I was born, but Grandpa Carter and Pappy McCoy were both just old enough that they remembered Dorcus Twelvetrees and Bartholomew Barebones, and the passage of Rappaport's Law. They were both about eight at the time, but they remembered. It's hard to overemphasize just how badly MACUSA was traumatized by what happened in 1790.

"It wasn't until after 1850 or so that the leadership of MACUSA was mostly people who didn't personally remember the Barebones-Twelvetrees incident, and it wasn't until the 1910s that you had mostly people whose parents didn't personally remember it in charge. So for over a century, MACUSA prioritized enforcement of the Statute of Secrecy and Rappaport's Law over damn near everything else. And that led to what we did to the Native Americans and to the Perry Expedition.

"MACUSA's official position has always been that being magical is more important than the color of your skin or your nationality. The Native American magicals, to put it mildly, disagreed. They were perfectly willing to hide what they were from white No-Majs, but for a lot of the tribes their magicals had important cultural roles as priests and healers, and they weren't going to stop doing those things, they weren't going to send all their magical children off to Ilvermorny, they weren't going to help MACUSA contain magical creatures, and they definitely weren't going to stop using magic to protect their tribes."

J.R. sipped his drink, and continued, "Now, I've never found any evidence in the records here that MACUSA deliberately did anything to manipulate the No-Majs into driving the Native Americans off their lands. But they certainly made things easier for the No-Majs by fighting and arresting, sometimes killing Native American magicals who wouldn't submit to MACUSA's laws. No-Majs come into conflict with an Indian tribe, MACUSA takes out the tribe's magicals for "Statute of Secrecy violations", No-Majs suddenly find it much easier to force the tribes off their land. And MACUSA took advantage of the establishment of the Indian Residential Schools to find Native American magical children and force them into Ilvermorny, then use Rappaport's Law, Obliviation, and memory charms to cut them off from their No-Maj relations on the reservations.

"So MACUSA helped the No-Majs destroy thousands of years of cultural heritage, inflict massive trauma on the Native American tribes, and contribute to the extinction or near-extinction of hundreds of magical and mundane species. But it was all to enforce the Statute and Rappaport's Law, so it was O.K. It wasn't until you had MACUSA leadership more than two generations removed from the passage of Rappaport's Law that policy started to change, and it wasn't until the Seventies, after the law was repealed, that they finally let the Native American magicals educate their children outside of Ilvermorny."

"What about the Perry Expedition?" asked Will.

"MACUSA's paranoia about Statute of Secrecy enforcement was, as I said, very high at the time. We'd been agitating the ICW for decades to enforce compliance on the Japanese, when the No-Majs came up with the idea of forcing an end to Japanese isolation, which made things much more time-critical. While the expedition was the No-Majs' idea, we managed to sneak a large force of wizards and witches aboard the U.S.S. Mississippi, and by arriving in Japan by non-magical means, the MACUSA wizards evaded the protections the Japanese had established against magical transportation. Then those wizards destroyed the anti-magical-travel wards during Perry's mock-bombardment of the town of Uraga, which let an ICW task force into Japan. And that eventually led to the Magical Diet, the Youkai reservation system, the shit-show that was the magical side of World War II in the Pacific, and the shit-show that Magical Japan became after Blood Week."

J.R. looked over at the younger magicals on his couch. "You kids probably find the attitudes hard to grasp, because you were born after the Repeal. But when you go back through the archives, especially the official correspondence, the fear of exposure to the No-Majs practically screams off the pages at you until you start getting into the 1910s, then it flares back up after the Obscurial Incident in 1926 and doesn't die down until after the Korean War in '53."

He finished off his drink. "When you're done copying the Abyssal records and post-1958 Obliviations, we're going to go back and copy the records related to Japan from 1853 through 1868, then we start on the Native American material and see how much we can preserve before either Harkaway, Kneedander, and their cronies try something stupid or the Statute falls."

 

[darthcourt10]

Harry Leferts

Harry glanced around at the various booths and the like already up and running. Not far off, he could see a bandstand where several shipgirls were performing the "Space Battleship Yamato" theme with Shinano singing it alongside Hana. Part of him smiled at the Carrier doing so as she had come a long way and Harry could still remember that when he met her, she would never have been brave enough to stand on stage and sing. Granted, he was also smiling because of the expression on Yamato's face at her sisters singing it.

A muttering conversation made him turn to the others and he grimaced slightly. Reaching up, the wizard rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, guys?" When they turned to him, he continued. "Sorry about what just happened, I don't know what got into Juuchi."

Glancing at the others, Asuka put on a slight, unsure smile. "That's okay? I mean..." Thinking over what happened, she gave a small frown. "I think that I have an idea what happened. But, um..." At the looks, the Tengu grimaced. "I don't know if it's my place to talk about it."

With shared looks among her friends, Natsumi just gave the Yokai a smile. "That's okay, Asuka-San. After all, it would seem that it is not your secret to tell."

Only nodding in agreement with his long time friend, Harry also gave Asuka a smile. "Yeah, that's their business." Then he frowned some before giving a nod. "I'd still like to make it up to you all though, so if you'll follow me?"

Confused, they all started to follow Harry through the set up for Fleet Week. Some of them were looking around to see various items here and there. One of them made Rika blink and furrow her eyebrows some. "Why is Kaga-San manning a Yakitori stand and... Wait." Frowning, she stared at the sign. "Turkey Yakitori?"

Facepalming, Harry let out a sigh. "That's because Kaga-Oba has a... thing... going on between her and Zuikaku-Oba. Mainly annoying Zuikaku-Oba using turkeys because of the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot where most of her pilots were shot down. Meanwhile, Zuikaku-Oba makes fun of her due to Midway and such... I think she makes Midway Submarine Sandwiches or something for Fleet Week in Kure."

Just boggling at him, Usagi blinked. "Seriously?"

Simply giving her a look, the black haired wizard nodded. "Kaga-Oba has an actual pet turkey she named Zui and Zuikaku-Oba has a snapping turtle named Kashu, which was another name for Kaga Province."

There was silence for several seconds before various Yokai facepalmed at that. Slowly shaking his head, Kaku sighed. "I just do not believe that they are that childish."

Natsumi rolled her eyes and snorted some. "Believe it, I've seen it for myself."

Pinching her nose, Asuka felt some of what she assumed Ai must feel at times. "That is even worse then some of those in the JNHRO at times. And I thought some of their little shenanigans at getting back at each other was childish."

As they continued to walk along, the tone of the Kitsune of the group turned dry. "You would think so... And then we got..." She gestured at one of the booths where Nagato was and waving at Harry before she turned back to cooking, "Nagato-San's booth."

Utterly lost, the group outside of Harry and Natsumi blinked in confusion for several moments before Ayaka raised a finger. "Um, what's the issue?"

Rather amused, Harry gave a chuckle. "She's running a Hiroshima style Okonomiyaki stand. What else?"

If anything though that made them more confused and Asuka scratched her head. "Okay?"

Lips curling a bit, Natsumi hummed a bit. "I have a better question which will answer that. What is Hiroshima known for?"

For several seconds they just stared at her before Rika shrugged and shook her head. "Um, different things? I mean, you got Hiroshima okonomiyaki? And the nuclear..." Slowly, she blinked and then groaned as she put her hand over her eyes. "Don't tell me..."

Now smirking, the wizard of the group rolled his eyes. "She used to run a booth cooking Nagasaki beef for instance. So yes, she is. From what Mum told me she wants to poke some fun at how she was sunk."

The air was filled with the sounds of hands meeting faces in a forbidden romance which made Harry snicker. Not long after though, the smells of food started to get to the teens and stomachs began to grumble. Speeding up a touch, Kaku turned to Harry beside him. "Where exactly are you taking us by the way?"

All Harry did though was point ahead and smile. "The International Pavilion actually, I thought that you all might want something for breakfast before the big crowds show up in about an hour or so. My treat." Seeing their looks, he shook his head some. "Trust me, there's going to be a lot of people showing up."

Only nodding as she figured he would know, Asuka looked to see two people she assumed were shipgirls. One of them she remembered was Acadia from news reports about Hoppou's fleet up north. The other though, she was somewhat confused over. "Um, who is that with Acadia-San?"

Frowning in thought, Harry pulled out a notebook and started to flip through it. At the looks, Natsumi shook her head. "Harry-Chan has a list of various booths and who is manning them since he helped out with the committee before the whole thing up in Hokkaido." Hearing her friend mumble, the Kitsune blinked as his eyebrows raised and he gave a whistle. "Harry-Chan?"

With a look towards her, Harry shook his head. "Um, that would be the Canadian shipgirl, Empress of Australia. I guess that the Canadians really want to impress." Knowing the unsaid questions, he tilted his head towards where the shipgirl in question was. "She's an Ocean Liner who was in Yokosuka during the Great Kanto Earthquake. But more then that, her Captain, Samuel Robinson, for the relief efforts was not only given the Japanese Medal of Honor with Red Ribbon... but was also awarded the Grand Cordon of the Order of the Chrysanthemum."

If it was not for the fact of what they were discussing, Harry might have laughed as jaws dropped. Looking from the shipgirl to Harry and back, Asuka leaned towards him. "Seriously? Her Captain was given that award?"
Quickly typing on his phone, the wizard scrolled through a Wikipedia page and showed them. "See? Says it right here."

Crowding around him, the Yokai read through what was there and as one shook their heads in disbelief. However, the moment was ruined as their stomachs all gave out a rumble which caused a number of them to blush. As they entered the line, they were all looking around the International Pavilion, or rather the part given over to the Canadians. Besides the area where they were cooking, tables and chairs had also been set up under umbrellas to protect against the harsh, August sunlight and which had the Canadian flag on them. As well, there were screens with clips playing that had Japanese subtitles. Ayaka's squee though made them look at her as she pointed at a group of three young women with one of them in a wheelchair. "I don't believe it! The Ibuki Oroshi herself is right here!"

Kaku did a double take before his own eyes widened. "Oh wow, you're right! That is her! And her sisters as well, though..." Frowning, he tapped his chin. "I only know Suzume-San as she's played in Kyuudo competitions."

Only nodding, Harry glanced at the three who were eating breakfast. "Yeah, all three are shipgirls, Natural Borns." Getting just silence, the thirteen year old turned to find himself being stared at. "What?"

Leaning towards him, Ayaka stared into his eyes. "Wait, Natural Borns?! All three of them?!"

Before she could do anything else, Natsumi grabbed her by the back of the shirt and away from Harry. "Down girl."

Just whipping around, the Inugami pointed at her. "You're not surprised at all! You knew that they were Natural Borns!"

In reply, Natsumi gave a shrug. "Yes, and?" Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. "Never came up to be honest. And while I've seen some of Moriko-San's matches, I've never really been into that sort of thing to be honest."

Sputtering, Ayaka boggled at her. "W-what!? B-but it's the Ibuki Oroshi! The One Wolf Windstorm! How can you not be into that considering how awesome she is!? Heck, you're learning to fight, right?!"

Once more rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, the thirteen year old Yokai shook her head. "Me learning to fight has nothing to do with that. Don't get me wrong, I like her and stuff, she's a strong, female Yokai after all who takes no shit. In fact, I do look up at her. I'm just not as rabid as you or some fans are."

A scowl on her face, Ayaka glanced at Moriko and became thoughtful. "Do you think that she'll sign my poster if I ask nicely?"

That only got her a facepalm from Natsumi while Rika glanced at her. "Uh, I think that you missed the bigger deal here. She's a Natural Born shipgirl. A Yokai shipgirl, that's even bigger then her being one of the best fighters in Japan! Not to mention her sisters as well..."

When they turned to him, Harry gave a small shrug. "Um, well, Moriko-San is the Heavy Cruiser Ibuki while her twin is the Light Carrier Ibuki that she was converted into. Their other sister is the second of the Ibuki class, but never got far from what I heard via the scuttlebutt."

Letting out a squee, Ayaka shook her head. "That makes Moriko-Sama even more awesome! And the same with her sisters!'

Even as the others talked among themselves, Asuka was looking at the three Okami where they were seated and tilted her head. 'Huh... I wonder if Sarutobi knows or any of the others?' At this time, they were close enough to the screens that Asuka could read the sub-titles of the little bits and realized that they were little bits of Canadian history. "That's sort of neat."

Glancing at it, Usagi gave a small nod. "It really is to be honest." The screens then changed to a view of Niagara Falls before cycling through other Canadian landmarks. "Really neat."

Eventually, they did reach where the cooks were and looked over the menu. Head tilted to the side, Asuka frowned some. "What's a Lumberjack Breakfast?"

With a chuckle, Acadia pulled out a picture and held it out. "This is a Lumberjack Breakfast. And before you ask, yes, that is a human sized portion." At the surprised whispers from behind the teens, she smiled. "It was so named because it was created for lumberjacks so that they could eat it and have enough fuel for a full day's work out in the woods, winter or summer."

Only shaking her head, the disguised Tengu waved her hands a bit. "Um, I'm not going for that. That is way too much food and I'm not Jin!"

Flipping the page, the shipgirl smiled. "We do have a smaller one we call the 'Little Lumberjack's Breakfast'. Its not as big as it only has two eggs, three pieces of bacon, three pieces of peameal bacon, two sausages, and three pancakes."

Slowly blinking, the teens looked at each other and soon after were heading to a table with the plates of food in hand. A small smile on his face, Kaku chuckled at Usagi's plate. "Looks like you're happy."

Just shrugging, she shook her head as they sat down. "Well, I am. I'm not a carnivore like you bunch, so these pancakes will just have to do." Grabbing the small bottle, she tilted her head and poured out the contents onto said pancakes. "Though I'm sort of curious as to how this maple syrup tastes like. I've never had the actual stuff after all."

Harry swallowed the bite of his eggs and shook his head. "Its really good, sweet, but good." When they all looked at the syrup on their pancakes, he jerked his thumb to the side with a slight smirk. "Ask Natsumi-Chan."

The Kitsune in question paused in devouring the pancakes on her plate as everyone stared at her. Swallowing, she gave them a glare. "Shut up, its really good!"

As she turned back to eating, Harry snickered some. "But yeah, the Canadians shipped in a lot from their strategic reserve."

Once more, all the Yokai paused as they ran that through their heads before sharing a look. Then they turned as one and stared at him. "Say what now?"

Chuckling, Harry gave a shrug. "I know, surprised me but I guess that the Canadians have a strategic supply of maple syrup. At least they're letting people try it though."

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Asuka shook her head before looking at the rest of the food on her plate. Granted, she really wanted to start digging in, especially after Usagi took a bite and began to devour hers. But part of her was confused over the bacon as some of it looked normal, but the 'Peameal' looked nothing like the bacon she was used to. With an internal shrug through, she took a bite and soon joined her friends in eating breakfast.

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K

A.N./Welp, the Fleet Week has already started. Would have had this out earlier, if it wasn't for the repeated paranoid rewrites. Hopefully I actually managed to balance giving a bit of legitimate insight into the three Muramasas here, their interaction, as well as setting up for the coming snippets, while still pulling off the humor that's supposed encupsulate their irreverences, ticks and traits.

If anybody looks like they're going to run with the wrong kinds of jokes though, I will just nuke this.
--------------


Hesitating in the middle of her absentminded doodling on a piece of scrap paper, Kyoshu paused.

The motion attracts the gaze of her current sisterly minder for the afternoon, causing Akutoku to glance up from her computer screen and to remember that distractedly chewing on the ends of her tablet styluses is far more expensive than becoming lost in artistic depth thought while wielding pencils. Shaking her head, the Sword of Corruption raises an eyebrow at her sister.

"What's up Kyo?"

The Sword of Faded Memories smiles with beatific vapidness and chuckles demurely. "I'm in danger."

Akutoku just sighs and goes back to her current exquisite masterpiece.

"We're Muramasa Blades Kyo," she mutters under her breath. "We are the danger."

Suddenly, with the lightning fast speed of a master swordsman drawing their blade, Akutoku then rapidly Alt-Tab's out of her current window, as Kyoshu practically throws herself across the desk to show her sister something. At this point, it's reflex more than anything else. While she avoids working on "work" while Kyoshu is around, the others would still have her guts for garters if Kyoshu saw something even remotely close to questionable, and remembered long enough to ask one of the others why Akutoku liked to "draw people like she did".

Like that one time she was working on that 'still life' project full of French swords.

Which was totally unfair, since it wasn't like Kyoshu would even remember if she ever did see anything anyway.

Shaking her head, the Sword of Corruption then turns her focus back to what Kyoshu has just shoved in her face.

"Look sis! I drew a comic!"

"Yes Kyo, I can see that, it's very nice." Akutoku declines to comment on the fact that while the art is actually surprisingly good, the plot makes absolutely no sense of any sort of continuity between more than two or three frames.

An astronaut steps into a rocket. The rocket takes off on a mission to the moon. The rocket lands on what looks like Mars instead. The astronaut makes first contact with a bunch of Martians. The astronauts (now plural) and Martians start fighting each other. There's a group of astronauts (now space marines) fighting a War of the Worlds Tripod. Master Chief saves the Space Marines by ramming the Tripod with a Warthog full of explosives. The Tripod collapses into a skyscraper (apparently the story is now back on earth). As the smoke clears, a Covenant Supercarrier is revealed hovering over the city. However, it is then promptly blown out of the sky by the Spacebattleship Yamato. The final few panels are of a peace treaty being signed on the SBY's bridge between the Arbiter and Captain Picard, except partway through, the bridge becomes the Enterprise's bridge, and the final shot is of the naval battleship Yamato floating in Truk Lagoon with the original Star Trek crew on a nearby beach. That last panel was particularly perplexing, as while it seemed like it was supposed to just be a long distance shot of the battleship in the lagoon, it was as if party way through, the budding artistic hand behind the crayon apparently decided to include a wedding taking place on the beach for kami only knew what reason.

For a moment, Akutoku wonders if Kyoshu is some kind of brain-damaged savant, and whether she could get away with including Kyoshu's insane little comic strip in the back of one of her books for shits and giggles to pad out a few pages. Then she remembers her editor's thoughts on the last time she attempted to do so.

"That's really good Kyo," Akutoku somehow manages to say, without sounding like she is blatantly lying through her teeth as she accepts the drawing from her sister.

"Yay!" cheers the Sword of Faded Memories, as she then does a little happy dance in place.

"You know," her sister admits, "While your style is a bit archaic, you're actually either surprisingly technically proficient or naturally talented."

Kyoshu pauses in her celebrations. "I'm what now?"

"You draw good."

The Sword of Faded Memories frowns and tilts her head in confusion.

"Mou.... I draw?"

Akutoku just sighs quietly and turns her attention back to her screen.

A few moments later, she is then interrupted by Kyoshu excitably perking up. "Oh! Hey! Hey Akutoku! Hey! Hey Akutoku! Hey! Akutoku hey!-"

Damnit, that's supposed to be her line.

"-Hey! Aku hey toku! Hey! toku-Aku yeh!"

"Yeeeeeaaaah?"

"Can I have a piece of paper?" asks the damaged Muramasa sweetly, before then pouting. "I wanna draw. You never let me draw."

Akutoku can only facepalm, drawing a confused "... mou?" from her sister in turn.

Just giving up with a sigh, the Muramasa distractedly fishes a few sheets of lower quality paper out of one of her printers for her sister to scribble on, for what is actually probably the fourth or fifth time now.

Akutoku likes to think of it like that thing with the monkeys and the type-writers. One of these days, the stars will align, and Kyoshu will produce something not just great, but vaguely in the way of coherent from start to finish. It's a flawless plan.

Granted, that could be her lack of impulse control speaking. It's why she's working when she's supposed to be helping Umitsubame look after their cloudcuckoolander sister. She's been jumping between unimportant ideas and side projects so much, that all her actual work has piled up. Now she has to crank out her last few pages for a variety of different projects over the next few days, like a student working on a bunch of essays they've been putting off till the night before the due dates which all coincide at once.

Of course, being around Umitsubame and Kyoshu also means that for the past few days, she's been limited to working on her less acceptable "Sword of Corruption" pseudonym's works at night, when nobody else is around. Taking immediate priority in in getting finished though, is her next big and more legitimate project, under her infamously paper-thin alias of Muramasa Courage. Better known as the mangaka behind "I Can't Believe It's Not Love," and totally not a side I.D. for an infamous "artist's" more legitimate works that her other publishers didn't want to be stained by her previous achievements when trying to market to a wider or more "family oriented" audience.

Not that anybody who wasn't actually a fan of her didn't know more "alternative" literature. It was an open secret and joke, to the degree that if she had stalls or panels for both at a convention, she'd usually go to her Muramasa Courage ones with an noh style oni-mask, and then for functions related to her less reputable works, she'd simply wear a paperbag with some holes cut into it to see through. If she was feeling really lazy or controversial though, she might not not even bother changing whatever clothes she was wearing between panels or stalls, only swap the 'masks' alone.

At that moment though, Akutoku's train of thought is abruptly derailed, as with a loud bang, the door to the room flies open, causing the Sword of Corruption to reflexively tab out of her current set of windows once more. Entering the room with a swagger, Norimune glances around to assess the situation, before then narrowing her gaze at Akutoku sequestered at the desk in the corner of the room with the wifi router, surrounded by her laptop, tablet and printers.

"I see you're drawing your useless filth again."

Akutoku bristles at the Unrepentant Blade's words. "Hey! I'm actually acting responsible for once and not working on 'work' while Kyoshu's around. This is for an up coming collab project. Totally safe for work here!"

The sword of corruption then turns up her nose at her sister blade dismissively. "And besides. It's not useless filth. it's art."

Tilting her head in confusion, Kyoshu looks between the two with innocently airheaded curiosity. "Mou.... what's useless filth?"

Freezing, Akutoku then looks at the equally pale Norimune.

"Umitsubame never learns about this."

"Agreed."

Kyoshu now tilts her head to the other side quizzically. "Learns about what?"

"Exactly dear sister," supplies the Sword of Corruption, while the larger blade of the two let's out a relieved sigh.

"Mou.... you guys are mean....." Brow creasing as she tries to figure out what's going on, one can practically see the point where the Sword of Faded Memories does the equivalent of Blue Screening and resetting. "..... what we're we talking about again? I forgot my remember."

"I think you mean-"

Before Norimune can finish her helpful correction, Akutoku gleefully chips in via the opening she sees.

"We were talking about how much Norimune sucks, right sis?"

The nodachi in question glares at her sister, hair trigger temper imediately alight at the poking of the all to easy to find chip on her shoulder.

"Go fuck yourself!"

Immediately things degenerate about as well as expected for a pair of weapons who's names mean 'Sword of Corruption" and "Unrepentant", leaving Kyoshu to watch absently for a few moments.

'They're so loud.' she idly thinks to herself. After a few moments, she then frowns as another thought occurs to her. 'I wonder why they're arguing in the first place.'

Looking down thoughtfully, Kyoshu then gasps in childishly happy surprise at what she finds in her hands.

Paper!

And crayons too!

Maybe she should draw something?! That could be fun! Akutoku never gives her anything to draw on!

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

 

[darthcourt10]

K9Thefirst1

The Special Experts

It took some time for the good people of Halifax to settle down. It was one thing for Humanity to gain such a boon as to crack the code in summoning installation girls. It was quite another for that installation to be their own home town. Copious amounts of alcohol was consumed, plus the shot in the arm of morale on top of what was already the norm for Natal Weekend, and it was expected that the number of births come May would be above average by a statistically significant margin.

But for the Installation Woman Halifax and her friends, it was rapidly business as usual. Georgie quickly took up the cause of personally inspecting the anti-air and anti-sea defenses of the harbor (while humorously enough fighting off the attentions of a goodly portion of the male population… Leaving her defenseless to the imminent combined and coordinated advances of Ontario, Empress of Asia, and Malaya, to Hali's secret amusement), Peggy tended to the local fishing villages, and the Privateer Girls dove into getting caught up on their missing history. And Hali herself? She did her thing.

It was no small secret that the lads at the shipgirl yards were keen on Halifax's assistance. On her own she more than doubled their dock space for shipgirl repairs without having to similarly increase resource demand. Add in the strides she made on tackling various engineering problems just by existing and the Powers that Be suddenly felt that the Abyssal War just might be finite, and in their lifetimes too!

But that didn't mean that her boys knew everything. While she was intimately familiar with anything in the arsenal of the European and American powers (and the Japanese just due to their ships being heavily influenced by the Royal Navy), the alliances with certain fleets of the Abyssals posed the Installation Woman with a daunting task – loath though she would admit it: The truth was that there weren't any widely available records of the hulls of the Abyss. Sure there were studies based on wrecks, but that only told part of the story. If the Abyssals were to fight side-by-side with the shipgirls, then Sweet Georgia they deserved just as good care from her and her yards. And so, when word came in that the Americans wanted to send 'special experts' to her to educate her and her engineers on Abyssal Anatomy, she refused to let something as petty as pride get in the way of accepting. It meant there was something to occupy her active mind. And there was the intrigue of how any meetings with their guests were so classified she wondered how her engineers were to actually learn anything.

Which brought her to the present – the shipgirls that fought off the Abyssal incursion during her summoning had long been repaired and sent on their way, her engineers were starting to finish their first run of drafts of their projects, and Halifax was starting to get bored. So it was with a touch of anticipation as the fairy-sized C-46 Commando came in for a landing at the giant woman's airstrip. As the twin-engined transport powered down, Halifax sent a complement of MPs and a limo to escort these "special experts." Things went well enough, the door opened, the American MPs marches out… And then they did something rather curious. The pulled out from the plane a series of large black screens, and arranged them so that no one nearby – save for Halifax herself – could actually see the occupants as they exited the plane. The Installation narrowed her eyes at that, but said nothing. Though now she was especially interested in who these men were.

And then an Abyssal Imp exited the plane and made for the limo. Then a second. And a third, until finally nearly ten of the damned things had left the plane and hopped into the limo.

"Eh?!"

And all the while Halifax stared bug-eyed at the sight.

'Still…' she thought as the Limo wound through her rigging's streets before disappearing into her pocket, 'I guess that would make them experts in Abyssal ships…'

"Excuse me, Hali?"

Halifax was pulled from her thoughts by a now familiar voice, a night guard who seemed to be making a point to visit on his way home from his shift each morning.

"Well hello th-!"

While Halifax on the outside continued about her normal day, inside Halifax met with the men in charge of her yards, and their… Guests.

Her fairies were more than familiar to her, all of them brilliant men from all over the world, the best of their field in the 1940s from both sides of the conflict, and now working as one against a common enemy. And all of them only permitted in this meeting after rigorous background checks, NDAs, and gag orders. But the Abyssal Imps… With their pitch-black skin, glowing blood red eyes, craggy teeth and various numbers of horns… To say they were an uneasy sight was an understatement. It was clear that her fairies weren't entirely enthused with this turn of events, but her countrymen were to polite to say anything (insert joke). After an awkward silence Halifax sighed and broke the ice.

"Major," she said, addressing the American officer that came with the Abyssals, "I do not believe that we have been introduced to our new arrivals. If we could have the honor?"

"Of course," the American said, turning to the biggest and burliest Imp of the bunch, in a USN uniform of all things, "Allow me to present our Special Experts in Abyssal Construction and Operations, led by Chief Engineer Azog Wraithghoul, Lieutenant First Class, USN, formerly of the Abyssal Grand Atlantic Battlefleet. Chief?"

Azog stepped forward, producing a folder that he placed on the desk of the installation director for him and everyone else to examine, and Halifax noted that, had the room been big enough for her to stand up straight, Azog was almost tall enough to be even with her bust. That was… An odd notion, to one who was used to being able to look down on the rooves of single story buildings.

"Gentlemen. As you know, I am an Imp of the Abyss. My men and myself, along with some hundred others, defected to the United States after the capture of our ship, the Re-Class battlecarrier Resignation, BCV-204. In late April, 2011, our fleet was ambushed by another Abyssal fleet, likely over resources and territory. The results of the battle are unknown, save that Resignation received a debilitating hit amidships and was captured approximately six days later off the coast of Delaware.

Halifax stood behind her staff as they each passed the documents and photographs contained in the folder. The documents all detailed the capture and dry minutia of the incident and the immediate aftermath, and would have been entirely comprehensible to Man and Shipgirl. However, in the outside world, the photographs would have been of the braindead hulk of a Re-Class with an obviously fatal head-injury under tow by American shipgirls, with the cigar-chomping Vulcan beside her. But to Fairies and Halifax, the pictures showed the sagging superstructure of a mighty capital ship, an unholy demonic fusion of a super-battleship and an aircraft carrier, being towed by American battleships and ocean tugs, the relatively miniscule shape of the repair ship Vulcan almost lost next to the behemoth. And looking at the damage, Halifax and her engineers whistled at the sight.

For nearly the entire port side shell plating was gone from just forward of the navigation bridge to aft of the rear fire director, from above the middle deck up to the weather deck. And midships the superstructure sagged like a depressed birthday cake, with twisted wreckage that had once been anti-air batteries and secondary gun turrets. The three funnels characteristic of the "Starboard Flight Deck" Re-Classes were equally mangled by the force of the blast, and the middle one having actually fallen, only to get tangled in the wreckage below.

"Huh," Halifax said, "looks a little bit like Arizona after the bomb hit at Pearl Harbor. Must have been some blast to gut the ship's internals like that."

"How in the world did you lot survive that?" one of her staff asked Azog.

"Forget them, how did that happen?!" interjected another, "And why didn't the ship go down right away?"

Azog cleared his throat to regain everyone's attention.

"One characteristic of the Re-Class' armor scheme is the use of external fuel bunkers on either side of the hull. They double as a secondary layer of armor regardless of whether or not they have fuel in them. The bunkers stop about at the deck below the weather deck. The American South Dakota-Class battleships have a similar layout, hence their characteristic inset row of portholes amidships. Unfortunately, this results in a similar chink in the armor, provided that a sufficiently heavy shell at just the right angle hits that spot above the bunkers but below the weather deck."

Azog moved his mouth to continue twice, but seemed to be unable to force himself to continue. The American Major stepped forward to continue the narrative.

"What we think happened, was that one such hit took place, on the port side. While it would have been bad enough, it should not have resulted in this sort of damage. According to survivor's testimony the ship was low on munitions for the main guns when the battle took place, so our working theory was that there was a transfer of shells or powder from the aft Magazine to the forward guns. In order to facilitate rapid movement of munitions in a combat situation, it is common practice to use the aviation elevator and transfer tunnel facilities on the strength deck. It's likely that such a transfer was in the area of the strike, setting off a much larger blast. Fortunately, the avgas hoses run below the strength deck and thus were unaffected, and even if they were, the Re-Class' fire suppression systems automatically vent the aviation fuel overboard in the even of a fire.

"The reason why more of the ship wasn't damaged, if not outright destroyed, is due to both it's size and armor layout. Given the merged nature of the design, the strength deck – which on a battleship would normally be the weather deck – is actually below, so that it seamlessly merges with the hanger deck of the carrier side. As the ship was under battle conditions, all hatches moving through the deck would have been closed, and all vents would have been sealed, as is normal for Abyssal ships. Therefore, the blast would not have been able to go down, and so it could only go to the sides and up.

"In a three-hundred sixty-degree arc around the blast zone, bulkheads were blown aside for up to 15 meters, before the explosion met resistance, and was redirected either straight up or back out the port side from where the impact came and out the ship. And straight up were the relatively thin decks underneath the superstructure. With the bulk of the structural support destroyed and the remains rendered glowing hot by the blast and the resultant fires, the midships section sagged and keeled over as shown in the pictures. This area contained the CIC and battle-bridge, resulting in the entire command staff killed, all intra-ship comms being cut-off, and massive loss of power, rendering her effectively dead in the water.

"Another affect of the explosion was the ignition of anything flammable in the immediate area. Paint, wood, cloth, anything and everything. Lieutenant Wraithghoul and his men, being in the machinery spaces, were spared the worst of the disaster, and when the fire alarms rang they followed procedure and activated the fire suppression system, which in addition to dumping the avgas includes dumping water from the sprinkler system and flooding the magazines, purging the spaces of oxygen rich air, and spraying retardant foam. Yet despite these efforts Resignation reportedly burned for over an hour. If there were any other survivors they likely abandoned ship after the entire commanding staff were killed.

"On May third, 2011, a routine patrol found the floating hulk, and boarders discovered the survivors in engineering, who then surrendered and sought asylum in the United States. After that Resignation was brought under tow to the Washington Navy Yard."

Azog gave a small cough. The major looked aside to him. At his nod, the fairy stepped aside and returned the presentation to the Imp. Who had another folder on hand.

"After that, we cooperated with the American Navy on their efforts to study the Re-Class, figure out how they tick, their quirks. And to restore her to combat readiness."

That caught everyone's interest, Halifax's especially. Azog handed the second folder to the Installation Woman, who yanked the contents out and shared them only when she was done with them. Once more there were documents and pictures. All of the documents detailing observations on the damage, comparisons with the ship's blueprints Azog and his men provided, comparisons with human ships and shipgirls, and draft work on the repair process. And in the photographs was a very different-looking ship indeed, squeezed into a river cutting through mountainous terrain.

The full-length deck was replaced with a try at an angled flight deck like what the Essex girls got after the war, which Halifax deemed 'admirably sufficient but improvable' at once. The three funnels that reminded her of the NoCar's had been fused into a single boxy funnel that blended seamlessly into the entirely new superstructure, one that looked more like a typical aircraft carrier island (making the girl look a bit more like the "Portsider" Re-Class so common in the Pacific). Every single secondary turret was replaced with American five-incher double gun turrets, and in typical American style, she was sporting a forest of bofors 20 and 40mm AA gun wherever there was room. Not even the top of the new navigation bridge was spared.

Halifax looked at the before and after photos, her brow furrowed and her mouth slightly agape at what she was seeing.

"This is the most disgusting thing I have ever seen." She said, to the Americans' shock and the Imp's anger. "I'm serious. This is the most revolting, heinous thing I have ever had to encounter… And it's so bitching!"

Azog, despite his time around shipgirls, was thrown by the one-eighty, and thus didn't resist when Halifax grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

"Tell me! Tell me all of the things! This is so cool I could kiss someone! Oh Hell-!"

And that was how Azog got his first kiss.

The fairies, being native to the sorts of shenanigans Shipgirls – and apparently Installation Women – got into when excited at something relevant to their interests, were utterly unaffected.

"May I ask why this is secret? And why is it being revealed to us now?"

Halifax was greatly disappointed that she was being deprived of her fix on awesome engineering if her sigh and groan of frustration was anything to go by. Nevertheless, the American Major took over.

"The initial intent was to scrap Resignation as was typical of more mangled hulks captured. However, after the survey of the hull, the Chiefs of Staff agreed that it would be worthwhile to look into rebuilding her, to see if she could be turned into an asset. This being before paper ships started coming out of the woodwork. And even now, more guns and more decks are more guns and decks. However, there was no real way to predict what would happen over the course of the project, so it was kept as a need-to-know basis, with only the highest levels of the US Military, and those of our allies, being to have full knowledge. Though everything we learned was shared among our allies as soon as we ourselves knew it.

"As for why now, after seeing how the ship developed after the reconstruction, it was decided by the Secretary of the Navy to commission the Re-Class into the US Navy as USS Rhode Island."

The room filled with a dull murmur at that, the men at the table once more circulating the various photos of Resignation and Rhode Island. Halifax examined her own copy of Rhode Island, mentally chewing on the information at hand. Thinking about the various logistical quandaries this ship was going to present to her… And something else…

"What is she like, this Rhode Island? And what are her thoughts on the… Changes?"

All conversation stopped, and every eye turned to her before turning to the American Major, who in turn looked to Azog. Nonplussed, the Imp stood up straight, and spoke with the conviction of an engineer who knew his boat better than he did the back of his hand.

"She's a good ship Your Highness. Better than she ever was with the Abyss. There's nothing left of the woman who, looking back, was a heartless bitch. In her place is a sweet girl, with a heart of gold, who sees Humanity as her people, as her new country as her only country. When the time comes to tell her, she'll take up arms beside her new family as assuredly as she would have if she never knew. She will serve you well Your Highness."

Halifax hummed at that, though there was no sign of disapproval in her face, the title he called her nod immediately registering in favor of more important things.

"So she's ignorant of her past then?"

The major stepped up, regaining the floor.

"It was a calculated risk. It was decided – based on suggestion of South Carolina, who has all but adopted the ship as one of her own – that it would be for the best to let Rhode Island form her own identity, one without influence of the knowledge of where she came from or who she had been. The idea is that she be told sometime before she is officially unveiled to the world. No date has been laid down yet, but it is the President's hope to have it happen sometime between Veteran's Day – I believe that's Remembrance Day in the Commonwealth – and New Year's.

"In the meantime, with the repairs and conversion completed, Azog and his men are left with very little to do. And with the recently established alliances with Abyssal Fleets in the Atlantic and Pacific, it was deemed prudent to start spreading their intimate experience with Abyssal ships throughout the relevant departments. The bulk have been quietly filtered among the various repair shipgirls in the US fleet, while the superior officers, Azog and his men with me, are to be assigned to here, with Halifax."

The Installation Woman nodded magnanimously, addressing the Major, but looking Azog in the eye with a confidence smile on her face. "Much obliged Major, I look forward to covering the particulars with Chief Wraithghoul in the coming months. And what about our allies?"

"Well Halifax, your successful summoning determined the first priority. The plan is that Azog and his men – in a clandestine manner you understand – will educate yourself and your own specialists in their knowledge. And for the foreseeable future after Rhode Island is revealed, whenever that turns out to be, three will remain here while the remainder are split between Europe and Japan, with Azog likely to be sent to the Far East, given the bulk of our most important Abyssal Allies seem to be congregating in that region."

Halifax, whose eyes never left the increasingly uncomfortable Azog, stepped up to the Imp and shook his hand, a hungry smile on her face.

"Excellent. Lieutenant Wraithghoul, I look forward to working with you. And your men of course. I'm absolutely tickled at the prospect at what engineering marvels you have tucked inside your brain."

Azog didn't say anything for a long while, choosing instead to nod in agreement, a placid expression on his face. Finally he found his voice.

"And I look forward to sharing with you Your Highness."

"I apologize," one of the German Fairy engineers interjected, "but why are you calling Halifax that?"

Azog looked around, and noted that the faint look of confusion was shared among the fairies, while the Imps seemed more confused that their peers were confused. Then the penny dropped.

"Ah. Sorry, force of habit I suppose. You see Halifax, you exert an aura similar to that of Central Atlantic Princess and her sisters, the other Elder Princesses."

One of Halifax's fairies was about to drink, but his glass fell from stunned fingers.

 

[darthcourt10]

U.N.Spacy000

Because Juuchi's panicking and I felt like writing this. Have Juuchi gathering allies and prepping for the inevitably disappointing confrontation while stalking Harry through the high school culture shipgirl festival!

****

Juuchi Prepares for the Storm

"Okay, first thing – you need to go after our Lord and follow him," Juuchi said as she nibbled her lower lip a little. "You have your cell phone, right? Try to stay out of sight, and I'll get to you as soon as I can."

"Uh, alright senpai," Tsukiakari said as she began to move toward the door while keeping Juuchi in her field of vision. "What are you going to be doing?"

"Recruiting," Juuchi said before she moved to Harry's room.

There, in her terrarium, half lounging on a rock underneath a sun lamp, was Shiromizu.

Juuchi kneeled down so she could press her face against the glass, tapped it insistently with a finger, and said, "Hey, wake up."

Shiromizu cracked open an eye, took in her newest supplicant, judged that her time would be spent better doing other things, and closed her eye to go back to sleep.

This was a slight miscalculation on the Mizuchi's part as Juuchi decided her next course of action was to pick up the terrarium and spin it so it was upside down. Gravity did its work, and Shiromizu, her rock, her little home, and everything else in the enclosure all came falling out. It took a moment for Shiromizu to figure out what was going on. She felt the falling sensation and figured she would be waking up soon. That was what happened in dreams, after all. She had just gone back to sleep, and Juuchi would not really do something as rash as to dump her terrarium out on the floor just because she snubbed the sword. Right? But moments before she hit the floor, the Mizuchi realized no, this is not a dream. She then impacted on the floor, and the worldly possessions she kept in the terrarium quickly followed after her raining down from the sky with the exception of the sun lamb since it was clamped onto the terrarium's side.

Hedwig watched everything unfold with a dispassionate gaze from her lofty perch.

"The hell!" the angered Mizuchi roared as she sprung up from the floor in her partially human form and launched herself at the impudent blade.

"Harry's in danger, and I need your help," Juuchi said with an obscene amount of calmness that reminded Shiromizu of the eye of a hurricane as the two women pressed their foreheads together.

Shiromizu recoiled and said, "What?"

"Well, actually, I need your mentor's help do things like set up alarm ward and other things around the base for a specific threat, but I need to be on hand to physically protect Harry and someone to convince your mentor to do this for me, so I came to you," Juuchi said serenely with a smile.

"And what makes you so much better at guarding Harry than me?" Shiromizu asked with narrowed eyes.

"I know for a fact that I can physically come in contact with – with my sister," Juuchi said as though the act of admitting she was related in some way to the threat against Harry physically pained her. "We do not know if you can fight her or if you are susceptible to her attacks. If we fail, the best case scenario is that everyone forgets Harry ever lived."

"That doesn't sound very 'best case' to me," Shiromizu said.

"It is when it gets worse from there," Juuchi responded. "Now, are you going to the temple or are you following me?"

"I'll get Haru," Shiromizu said with a frown. "Which of your sisters are we preparing for?"

"Kyoshu," Juuchi said, and some of the anger and bloodlust slipped from her control.

"Right – you've got your phone with you, right?" Shiromizu asked, and when she got a nod in reply, she made her way to the door with indecent haste. "In that case I'll call you if something comes up and see you later."

Juuchi nodded her head in satisfaction, left the apartment, deliberately locked the door, checked her phone for her kohai with the 'find a friend' app, and then ran. Down the hall, down the stairs, through more halls barely managing to sidestep a couple insignificant battleships, out the front doors, and into the naval base at large. Juuchi flew through the thoroughfares, past rows upon rows of dorms/barracks, outraced a golf cart, caused a number of skirts to be flipped up because of the displaced air caused by her going so fast, and she neatly stopped next to Tsukiakari.

Tsukiakari did not squeal like a little girl in surprise. Not that Juuchi was paying attention to her kohai so she could tease the younger sword later. She was too busy mucking about with her cellphone, and after a few seconds of ringing, the phone was picked up on the other end.

"Honjo," Juuchi said almost out of breathe before the other sword could get in the first word. "I need you."

Honjo was silent for a few seconds before she said, "This is not how I saw my day going. Ever. Uh, look, I'm flattered, but, uh, it wouldn't work out. We sort of hate each other. I think."

"But I respect you, and you're the only one I can turn to," Juuchi said plaintively in what was not begging. "I help to protect my Lord – and even if I did have any of my sisters' numbers, which I don't, you'd still be one of the first people I'd call for this!"

"Wait, what?" Honjo asked in shock as the mood and need whiplashed. "Oh. You meant – oh. Yes, okay, I'll be over soon. You've got your phone, yes?"

Juuchi nodded before realizing technology was not quite that advanced before she said, "Yes."

"Right, I'll find you soon enough," Honjo said. "Who are we protecting him from?"

"Kyoshu," Juuchi said.

"Fuck."

"Senpai?" Tsukiakari asked when she heard her other favorite senpai curse over the phone.

"Hey, uh, you're still with those fuddy duddy historians who shipped all the other swords back to their families, right?" Juuchi asked.

"Yes?" Honjo said uncertainly.

"Do you think you can grab their addresses so we can get in contact with the others?" Juuchi asked in a quiet voice. "I want all the help we can get."

"I'll see what I can do," Honjo said. "I'll be there soon."

"Bye," Juuchi said before the line went dead.

"Is this really-" Tsukiakari began to ask before Juuchi cut her off.

"Yes," Juuchi said as she began dialing another number. "Rose?"

"Ah, Juuchi," Rose said from the other end of the line. "I was not expecting you to call."

"I need you to write this down, and I need Haruna to enter it into her log or whatever," Juuchi said briskly as she and Tsukiakari followed the gaggle of school children surrounding Harry. "It's important."

"Ah, alright," Rose said uncertainly.

"If you forget big, important things – like how you got from England to Japan, you need to assemble a hit team to kill – or more likely just slow down – Kyoshu Muramasa and flee," Juuchi said.

"A hit team?" Rose asked in shock. "Juuchi-"

"I've learned that the sister who likes to torment me by killing off and torturing the families I serve occasionally visits," Juuchi said as she pre-emptively cut off the tea set's demand for an explanation. "Also, I'm going to need the phone number of those guys that ran security for your wedding."

"I, yes, of course," Rose said shaken. "I'll text it to you."

"Thank you," Juuchi said before hanging up and then dialing the number Rose sent her.

Tsukiakari looked physically ill at the thought of a Muramasa coming to kill Harry, and a few of the things Juuchi had said – how proud she was of Tsukiakari for waking her master and saving his life when she was so young – suddenly took on a new meaning.

A short time later, Honjo walked up to the pair of blades while Juuchi spoke into her phone and said, "I have arrived."

"It is good to see you again, Honjo-senpai," Tsukiakari said with a short bow. "I think Juuchi-senpai is really serious about this."

"As she should be," Honjo said with a distant look in her eyes before refocusing on Tsukiakari. "Who is she speaking with now?"

"The group that provided security for Rose and Haruna's wedding," Tsukiakari said as the trio trundled along. "I think she's trying to get either a security detail or a group to provide surveillance and call her when they see Kyoshu."

"That fucker!" Juuchi roared as she made to hurl her phone to the great beyond before Honjo stopped her.

"S-senpai?" Tsukiakari asked.

"When I finally got around to dropping Kyoshu's name, that fucker burst out laughing and hung up on me!" Juuchi said vehemently.

"I suppose she continues to have a fearsome reputation in even this age," Honjo said sadly. "It seems we are on our own for the time being."

"Yes," Juuchi said through gritted teeth. "Hopefully Shiromizu will convince Haru to help us – her own niece is going to have a target painted on her head since she's with Harry so often."

"So, uh, what does Kyoshu look like, anyway?" Tsukiakari asked.

"Right, right," Juuchi said as she reigned in her emotions again before she started to tell her adorable kohai all about what and who Kyoshu was while Harry sang along to the opening strains of "Space Battleship Yamato" in support of Shinano much to the blushing support carrier's delight.

 

[darthcourt10]

Lord K

Looking in the mirror, Kogamaru frowned and adjudsted his baseball cap one last time, before then putting on his polarised sun glasses. It was rather different from his normal preferences for traditional apparel, but it would do. With sneakers, jeans, t-shirt, Tokyo U varsity jacket, all concealing sunglasses, and his normally free-flowing hair pulled into a pony-tail and shoved down the back of his jacket to disguise it's length. Now he barely looked anything at all like Kogamaru, Ninth Koshaku of the Hokubu Okami.

Turning around, Kogamaru then looks to the others. "How do I look guys?"

Ai just rolls her eyes. "You couldn't look any harder like a celebrity trying to dress incognito if you tried."

Kiba gives a thumbs up. "You're rocking the look pretty well. No one will ever know."

Chisuheri gives a shrug as she goes back and forth from the van Akutoku has hired for the group for the day. "It's passable as disguises go."

The Okami just facepalms at the sweeping range of opinions. "Thanks guys really."

Off to the side, Jin laughs. "Oh ignore them. You'll be fine. We only know it's you, because only you'd be enough of a dork to dress up like it's still the 80's."

"Thanks Jin. You're a great friend."

The mizuchi preens. "I do my best."

"Speaking of which," interrupts Chisuheri as she passes by again. "I must thank you for volunteering to help look after Kyoshu. While Umitsubame would normally prefer to have one of our own looking after her...." The Bloodlust Blade grimaces. "Unfortunately something this big requires running herd on Akutoku, and the others all either want to go to specific stalls that are only here for today, or are busy elsewhere."

The dragon shrugs. "Meh, it's no problem. I can always check out what the rest of Fleet Week has to offer. There's still six more days. And besides, it's not all the different from babysitting for Porkchop and his Missues to be honest."

Glancing to the side, all eyes turn to the current conversation taking place between Akutoku and the vapidly smiling Kyoshu, while the Sword of Corruption hurriedly looks through one of her bag as part of a last minute check for something.

"-so let's go over this one more time. I know it's Monday, and so it's technically me and Umitsu's turn to look after you, but today you need to go with....?"

Akutoku trails off expectantly, waiting for Kyoshu to fill in the gap. Frowning in serious concentration, Kyoshu's eyes then light up.

"It's Monday, so that means if I get lost, I ask for you and Umitsu-chan!"

Akutoku facepalms, the number of times this cyclic attempt to drill into the Sword of Faded Memories the change of her schedule has happened, is hinted at by the increasing redness of the hand-shaped patch on her forehead.

"Okay, this isn't working." Pulling out a pen from her bag, Akutoku then gently takes her sisters hand and begins writing on Kyoshu's palm.

"Hah! The tickles!"

Work done, Akutoku pulls away. "Okay! So! Today, if you need anything or get lost, who do you got to or ask someone to help you find?"

Kyoshu tilts her head and frowns uncertainly at the characters messily scrawled on her hand, upside down from her perspective. "If.... found....see... Jin.... the..... mizuchi....?"

The Sword of Memories blinks idly, starring at the writing on her hands before looking up. "I need to see a mizuchi?"

Looking back down at her hand, Kyoshu then gasps. "Akutoku! Somebody wrote on my hand! We should go find Norimune in case it's a curse! She knows all about curses, right?"

The sword of Faded Memories pauses as she notices something. "-oh. It's upside down."

Akutoku facepalms, while Kyoshu first does her best to turn her hand upside down, and then attempts to turn the inked kanji instead. The sum of her efforts is smudging her hand, before finally actually reading the thing with her head tilted. "Aha! It says.... If Found.... See.... mou, I can't read that one anymore.... The Mizuchi."

Immediately her gaze light up with childish glee. "Did I win something?!"

Turning around she then spots Jin who is currently checking something on her phone, and excitedly levels a finger at the ex-water kami. "She's a mizuchi! Does that mean I win something if I go to her?"

Akutoku sighs. "You know what? Fuck it. Good enough. Yes Kyoshu. You win a prize if you find the mizuchi."

"Yay!"

Just then however, Jin finally looks up, and bites out an worried curse. Looking at the mizuchi in concerned surprise, Ai raises an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong?"

Jin gives a nod, as she immediately begins fishing around in her jacket for her motorcycle keys. "Shiromizu just called me- Asking about wards, and ways to get around memory editors, and a bunch of other weird shit. It sounds serious, so I gotta go."

As the mizuchi hurriedly moves to grab her helmet while she rambles, Akutoku glances up in shock. "What! But we're just beginning to make progress here!" she cries with exasperation, pointing at the ever confused Kyoshu.

Heedless to the blade's pleas, Jin is already heading to her bike on the other side of the garage. "Sorry! It sucks but the kohai comes first! Besides, it's not like she remembers me anyway! So I gotta go seeyouguysbye!"

"Oh what the fuck!" exclaims the Sword of Corruption as Jin takes her leave like a draconic whirlwind, with the swiftness of her flight shown by just how quickly the scream of her motorcycle begins fading into the distance. "Now she's just gonna be confused!"

"Who's going to be confused?" asks Kyoshu with a tilt of her head.

"Exactly!"

"Mou...?"

Sighing with heavy resignation, Chisuheri turns to the front of the van.

"Norimune!"

Lazily, the nodachi leans out of the driver side window. "Yeah?"

"You're staying behind."

Immediately, the Unrepentant Blade sits up, alert and incensed. "What!? Why!? I wanted to go!"

"Akutoku's replacement minder just had something urgent come up," supplies Chisuheri. "We're defaulting back to you."

"That's unfair! Why does it have to be me!"

"Because somebody has to keep an eye on her in a public place this big-" supplies the resident Buddhist.

"Hey! I'm not that bad!"

Chisuheri ignores said topic of conversation. "Umitsubame and Kagotsuruhe still have to leave Tokyo, and will not be here for a while yet. Ergo, of those of us present, I judge you the most likely to end up being riled up into doing something inane and harebrained in public at Akutoku's needling anyway."

Norimune bristles. "That unfair! I wouldn't.... well.... not as easily as...." Gnashing her teeth, the nodachi growls, while Akutoku laughs.

"She's got you there sis!"

"Screw you! Don't make me get out of this van!"

The Sword of Corruption just grins. "Don't you need to get out to stay behind anyway?"

"I'll make you stay behind you overgrown butter knife-"

As the jaded Disciple of Hachiman gets out of the driver's seat, Chisuheri imposes herself between the two with a resigned sigh. "Enough, both of you. If at all possible, could you find in yourselves, the restraint to at least get to where we're going before making a scene?"

Norimune sulks and kicks at the ground moodily. "She started it."

Akutoku simply pokes out her tongue cheekily and blows a raspberry. Interrupting her however, is how Kyoshu then tugs on the other sword's sleeve.

"Akutoku! Akutoku! Look!"

"Look at what?"

Merrily, Kyoshu rolls back her own hoodie's oversized sleeves to show off the messy scribbles on her hand. "Someone put a message on my hand! We have to find the mizuchi!"

The mangaka artist sighs in realization. It took most of the morning to get the message through Kyoshu's goldfish-brain, and now they've had to change plans and won't have time to make sure she remembers the new details instead.

"The Mizuchi's gone Kyo. Don't worry about it."

Kyoshu tilts her head in confusion. "Mou... is that where you're going then? To find the mizuchi?"

Akutoku facepalms. "You know what? Yes Kyo, I'm going to find the mizuchi. I may be some time, and if you stay here with Norimune until Umitsubame or Kagotsuruhe get here, I may come back with something for you. Alright?"

"Mou...." Kyoshu pauses in a silent thoughts for a few moment, which usually bodes for something amazing for good or ill. "So does that mean you win a prize if you find the mizuchi?"

Akutoku frowns in momentary confusion. "Who wins what if they find the mizuchi?"

The Sword of Faded Memories' eyes light up with wonder. "I can get a prize if I find a mizuchi?!"

Kyoshu then pauses and frowns in confusion. "Why are we looking for a mizuchi?"

Looking downward in depth though, something catches her eye. Pulling back her sleeve, Kyoshu then gasps at something on her hands.

"Akutoku! Akutoku! I've been cursed!" worriedly, she then looks to the largest of the four Muramasa blades present. "Norimune! You know about curses right?! You have to help!"

The three more sane (for a given definition) sword spirits stare at each other for a long moment. Then Akutoku throws up her hands defeat. "Fuck it, I'm done. Good luck Norimune. I'm out. I got a release event to go to."

As she leaves, Kyoshu looks at her ink marked hand with a squint, before then perking up with excitable curiosity. "Oh hey, it says something!"

Looking up, she then spies her two sisters still currently present.

"Norimune! Norimune! where's Akutoku."

The obvious answer is 'already in the van' but, but instead what comes out is "Er.... why do you want to know?"

"We need to go find the mizuchi! And Akutoku needs to come, because she's who I'm supposed to be with today!"

Norimune sighs and facepalms with resignation. This is going to be her whole morning, she can tell already.

"We're doing something different today, okay Kyo-chan? You're staying with me for now okay. Just until Umitsubame gets here."

"....but it's Monday? It's always either Akutoku or Umitsubame on Monday...." Kyoshu still can't help but frown in innocent confusion. "Mou.... it is Monday, right?"

Pulling up her sleeves to check her watch that also helpfully tells the date, Kyoshu's eyes then widen.

"Norimune! Norimune! Somebody's put a curse on my hand!"

The Unrepentant Blade resists the urge to start headbutting the nearby wall.

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

A few hours in, and Norimune is increasingly proud of the fact that she hasn't put any holes the Zuchi House.

Or brutally murdered poor Kyoshu with cruel and sadistic intent.

It's not her fault that she is the way she is. Well.... except for the fact that she had once been unrelentingly evil bitch, who's karma finally came back to haunt her when she attracted the interest of even big and more evil fish.

Irony much.

Anyway (as she had to remind herself for the nth time that hour), an inanimate house now where near old enough to any kind of magic or spirit, and an amnesiac imbecile where far beyond her purview of individuals worth fighting for. She was a disciple of Hachiman, even if the world didn't really care for such things and ways anymore.

Also, in the distraction of her mental soliloquy as to why putting holes in her sister's friend's house (and her other sister), the food had started burning.

"Oh what the fuck!?!"

Hurriedly slamming a lid on the bowl, Norimune rushes the aborted dish to the sink and begins filling it with water.

"That was supposed to be an exquisite salad. Why the fuck was there fire?!?"

With a disappointed sigh, Norimune defeatedly dumps the remains of lunch into the bin, where it joins the remains of her other failures so far. A good warrior knows when she is beaten.

Morosely, she then slouches into the lounge where she left Kyoshu with the tv going and some of Akutoku's art supplies. Hopefully that shinier paper Akutoku always seemed to have, would amuse the forgetful sword longer and more easily than the normal stuff that was in the Zuchi house's office.

"Hey Kyo-chan, I'm orderin' take out! What do you want?!"

Noirmune waits, only to receive no response.

"Kyo-chan?"

Frowning, Norimune begins to feel a prickle of worry as she begins paying more attention to actually searching out for her wayward sister.

"Oi! Kyoshu?! Nobody's playing hide and seek! You can come out now! ....Kyoshu?!"

Wandering around the coffee table, Norimune then pauses as something catches her eye.

"Oh motherfu-"

Bursting into a sprint, the Nodachi grabs her physical form and it's sheath, then slings both over her shoulder into their disguised holster for going about the muggle world; a converted carry pack for a kyudo bow due to her blade's large size.

"No, no, no, no, no-" Rushing through the halls of the Zuchi House, Norimune then freezes as upon being confronted by what she hopped she wouldn't find. "OH COME ON! FOR THE LOVE OF- ARGH!!!"

Looking back down, the nodachi then double checks the words scrawled onto the paper she grabbed from the lounge coffee table.

'Gone to Akutoku, so we can find the mizuchi'

Glancing at the winding road leading up over the hill to Yokosuka, the Unrepentant Blade then facepalms upon the realization that she can see a bus with a worryingly familiar figure in an oversized hoodie in the back.

"Oh hells.... Umitsubame and Chisuheri are gonna kill me," she moans.

A desperate flash of thought occurs to her.

What Umitsubame and Chisuheri don't know, they can't get angry about. And if she can get Kyoshu back soon enough that the Sword of Faded Memories forgets her little adventure, before Umitsubame and Kagotsuruhe arrive....

Norimune checks her watch.

The next bus doesn't arrive for another fifteen minutes.

The Unrepentnant Blade then looks at the looming hills that divide the peninsula, and the bus that will be over the top in a few more stops.

"Fuck me, this is gonna suck."

Well, at least she won't need to do cardio for a while.

Norimune takes off at a run.