>>16387
>>Wait for the bus
A failure like us deserves to suffer

>>16396
Yeah this.

>>16396
You ignore your growling stomach and park yourself firmly on the bench for the next ten minutes or so. As you do, you hear a faint siren, familiar to the one you heard at the recruitment drive - as a frontline city and base all in one, Yokosuka was probably calling for a curfew. As you raise yourself to curiously check on the source of the noise, however, a different sound now reaches your ears.

The bus leaving town had arrived. The bus driver, an old man, smiles right down at you. The bus looks like it has a few occupants, but it is far from full capacity.

"Next one won't be here for a while. " he says. "Hop on."

The sirens are still going on, and your curiosity is enough that you hesitate for a bit.

"You waiting for some soap for a bath, son, or are you getting on?"

>Get on the bus
>"Sorry, I think I'll get on the next bus."

>>16429
>>Get on the bus
It has nothing to do with us now

>>16431
We are but dust in the wind.

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>>16429
>>16431
>>16434
You get on the bus with a nod, shuffling with your large sports bag - pretty much everything you own in it - and struggle onto the aisle. Indeed, the bus isn't quite full, but has his fair share of riders. Most of the ridership was made up of sombre, middle-aged people who had used the extra seat that would otherwise be occupied with their own bag. It wasn't quite full, but the bags made it look like it was crowded.

One rider, the nearest to the front doors of the bus, though, caught your curiosity. They were clad head to toe in some large, old trenchcoat, a rather large... and overall, weirdly-shaped hat that was pulled down to hide their eyes and their body held close, as though they were freezing or trying to keep something hidden. It was probably the former, though, if their form was anything to go by.

What wasn't hidden, though, was their dark, mussed, if still finely-retained locks of raven hair, spilling out from under their hat and the scarf covering most of their face. Not wanting to bother anyone else, you sit down right across from them as the bus takes a sharp corner to begin its journey home. You notice something else about the person across from you.

>"They're kinda... tall."
>"They're kinda... messy."
>"Their legs don't reach the floor."
>"Is that a loaf of bread they're holding?"
>"Are those... pigtails?"
>"...Are they staring at me?"

>>16429
>"Sorry, I think I'll get on the next bus."

>>16512
>"They're kinda... messy."
It's only the rejects and elderly on this bus.

>>16512
>"They're kinda... tall."

>>16512
>>"They're kinda... tall."
Not that it really matters though
We need to figure out what we are going to do with our life now

>>16519
>>16524
>>16525
Current Tally: 2 1 0 0 0 0
Write-up in 13 minutes.

>"...Are they staring at me?"
Don't make eye contact.

Current Tally: 2 1 1 0 0 1
Write-up in 3 minutes

>>16512
>>"They're kinda... tall."

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>>16524
>>16525
>>16623
You notice that they're kinda... tall. From your standing position, you couldn't fully tell, even though their strange hat almost came up to your shoulder. Their form wasn't as wide as yours, as the figure hugged its own body - probably trying to keep warm. It was a wet and cold day in Yokosuka, after all. The bus takes a few turns, revving by the now-more turbulent sea, clearly visible in your eyes.

The bus lurches slightly and you almost get tossed forward from the small slide it took. The other patrons grumble while the operator takes the phone to apologize. The rain grew heavier as the bus went on, heading towards the exit to the highway and back to the inner cities and chatter began to grow with the passengers. You lean against the uncomfortable seat you had picked, your bag at your side as you survey, once more, the oddly-dressed person across from you.

Suddenly, a loud screech - like a wailing banshee - reaches your ears. You clutch your head in pain, covering your ears to deafen its impact. Over the sound of the rain, over the screech, something else reaches your ears as the bus driver brings the bus to a halt, just as affected as everyone else.

All except the figure across from you, who had now rushed across to your side, pressing herself - yes, HERself - to the window. The screech was still sounding and people were still clutching their heads... but something else now caught your eye.

It wasn't the now-revealed sight of this woman - a raven-haired beauty in her own right.

It wasn't to the screaming passengers who had now raised themselves from their seats, pointing to the sea - some shouting to the bus driver, some flailing in panic.

It was to the red light behind the window where the woman was once seated.

A land assault had begun.

"EVERYONE, OFF THE BUS. NOW!" The woman yelled.

As red comes into your vision, you...

>Run for the doors
>Yell at everyone to get out of the bus
>Shield the woman, who is closest to you
>Tell the driver to step on it

>>16731
>>Run for the doors
best to do as told

>>16731
>Run for the doors

>>16731
>Yell at everyone to get out of the bus.
>Grab your bag.

We don't know much of what's going on but the girl seems to have an idea.

We're also still an unprofessional asshat who won't do what he's told.

>Run for the doors
Better than staying put

>>16731
>Yell at everyone to get out of the bus

Locate a window as an alternative escape route

>>16731
Grab our bag, run for the doors.

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You open your mouth to speak, but the words die in your throat as the girl - the woman, looks down at you with a silencing glare and a promise of pain if she was not obeyed that instant. The din of the shouts and the whining from outside render you effectively deaf as you make a mad dash for the door, the driver already ahead of you. Flying past you, a small trail of what looks to be glitter makes its way to the woman... as you notice just what it was.

It was a Fairy. That woman was a Kan-Musu.

"OUT OF THE BUS! NOW! NOW!"

A bright light, white an blinding, comes from outside on the other side of the bus. You close your eyes as you scramble to the exit - the screams of the passengers growing louder and louder. Your bag dragging past you, you make your way right into the rain as above you, hordes of arrow-shaped and spherical things buzz around noisily.

Your brain short-circuits for a bit as your senses reach overdrive, your response ailing for a kick-in as it dawns on you that you're at the tips of a brigade's spears. Your eyes see alleys in rows of shops to duck into for cover, where the bus driver has already made a bee-line to.

The others don't follow his lead, going out to the open - you yell at them but realize that they're only headed back to the Naval base - it's where they think they would be best protected, but it's far off. You look as the skies begin to swarm with more of the invading buzzards. Your ears are now greeted with the sound of projectiles bolting through the rain.

You know you don't have long, but your mind goes back to the Kan-Musu in the bus as you hear the "BLAM" of cannon-fire from the vehicle. Your legs make the decision for you....

>You run with the driver into the alley with the shops
>You run with the crowd into the open area and try to make it to the base
>Worried about the Kan-Musu - Go back for her.

>>16918
>You run with the driver into the alley with the shops

>>16918
>>Worried about the Kan-Musu - Go back for her.
It seems like being with her is the safest option at this point

>>16988
Nice, my first dubs

>You run with the driver into the alley with the shops

>>16918
Shops, but try to keep an eye on what's going on.

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You make a straight dash with the driver to the alleys. The bullets seem to hail around you and you close your eyes, grasping onto your sack and running through the rain as battle makes itself known around you. You turn back to see the bus peppered with projectiles and you wonder for a moment if the Kan-Musu would be safe.

As though answering your questions, the Abyssal fighters fire harder upon the shredded bus - and bright light blinds you as it explodes in a great burst of fire and metal. You feel your teeth rattle and your throat struggle; you groggily get to your knees, surveying the wreckage. In the distance, you see a humanoid form raise from the ocean after the crowd of the other bus-goers. You can't bring yourself to say, let alone yell a warning. You feel numb and cold, your spirit even more so as the last few moments imprint themselves into your brain.

You catch your breath, still trying to get your bearings. Even with Hell going about you you can't find the energy to raise yourself. Your bag feels heavier than it should be. The next second you feel a strong grip around shoulder - the bus driver had raised you from your downed position. He's yelling something at you, but even with him right next to you, you can't seem to make it out.

He slaps you with a hard left. Your brain wakes up. Your senses reboot and you realize that anywhere near here would end up with you just as that Kan-Musu had been. You don't look back.

...You look back. There are only flames, dancing as the rain comes down upon them - out in the distant see, you see the enemy, Abyssals, making formations - it was a storm for the ages.

'Come on, son! We need to get away from here!'

You and him make your way to a hidden alley, the buzz and screeches of the abyssal fighters and bombers go above you, miraculously not following your path. The bus driver leads - you do not know where he is going, but you do not care. You need to get out of here. Anywhere but here. Even in the cold rain, it seems like fire has found home in your lungs.

Over the buzz, you hear screeches in the distance.

And they were human.

'Boy, come on! To the hills! To the hills!'

>Continue with the bus driver to the hills
>Go towards the screams alone
>Convince the driver to come with you towards the screams

>>17237
>Convince the driver to come with you towards the screams
As much as I'd kind of like to have the most anti-climatic quest ever and continue running to see how far we get, let's go be outstanding citizens and productive human beings.Charge.

Bus driver is coming too because he's going to be our wingman in the coming insanity. We'll be the captain, he'll be our XO.

>>17237
>>Continue with the bus driver to the hills

>>17237
Will DesDiv17 appear in this quest? The Yuugumos?

>>17237
>Convince the driver to come with you towards the screams

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>>17263
That'd be spoiling, serrah.

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>>17273
Supply Depot Princess holed up in the base playing vidya with Yuubari and Hatsuyuki when?

Miyuki when?

>>17263
>>17330
The quest only just started. Give it soe time before your waifus show up.

>>17237
>>Convince the driver to come with you towards the screams

But we can go alone if need be.

Yeah, running like hell would be the most logical/realistic option...but this is a quest, and for me, doing that would get boring quick. Besides, we did at least make an honest attempt at joining the military, phys ed and all, it's not like we're ENTIRELY devoid of courage or physical ability.

>>17237
>Continue with the bus driver to the hills
It's the safest option, and we're not military. No point getting killed in vain.

>>17563
I get what you're saying, anon, but we don't have weapons, training, or backup - there's nothing we could do. Let's do the sensible thing for now instead becoming collateral damage before the quest has even started, hmm?

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'We need to go back.'

The bus driver looks at you as though you were the most insane being he'd ever met. He then, without warning, takes you by the collar and drags you behind a wall as more of the bandits fly over you. You open your mouth to say something, but the old man bites out a grunt to keep your silence. The explosions are heard all over now, and your heart beats louder as the thin old man's surprising strength keeps you from saying anything further. You grab his elbow to fight for release; after a few moments, he gives and you push yourself into a stand, turning towards where you heard the screams.

'Look, kid, you're gonna get killed out there! We need to get back through to the hills. We can't do much out there except get killed.'

'Those people need our help.'

'They're ALREADY DEAD!' He hisses tightly at you, his tone one of reason and incredulity at the same time. 'We need to get back to the hills and hunker down. As long as we're down here, we might as well commit seppuku!'

Slinging your bag, you keep under the cover of the awning, looking desperately to the bus driver. He looks just about ready to bolt and ditch you right there and then - and there wasn't much of a thing to argue against it. You didn't know WHY you were heading towards certain doom against such dark odds, but for some reason, the screams and shouts of people, fearing for their lives and facing a fate they were never prepared for - it did something; your feet are quaking, every single bone in your body screams at you to follow the old man and live another day, but for some reason - for some reason... you can't. Your bag clumsily swings back into you as you take a step towards the old man.

You pray he was not what he could be.

'We can't just leave them!'

He bares his teeth and points an accusing finger at you - around you, the noise grows but you both ignore it.

'You left that girl behind just fine.' The bus driver growled. 'What's doing the same thing twice?'

The words stung hard and deep. Indeed, you had abandoned the Kan-Musu who had stayed behind just as easily as the others did... without a word and just a single look back. You wonder, for a fleeting moment, if she had family... a home, perhaps? Someone she would never see again? Someone who was worth more than a few seconds of time bought?

Worth more than you, at the end of all things?

'Look, son. Shut up and follow me. If Luck's in a good mood maybe we'll lose just a pinky.'

Once more, the thought plays on your mind and your judgement weighs on your action. That Kan-Musu... whoever she was... stayed behind in the burning wreckage against a rush of foes.

For their lives.

'I'm sorry.' You breath. 'Good luck.'

You turn away from the him... and feel a light tap on your shoulder.

'All right. Let's go get ourselves killed, you idiot.' he points to your bag. 'Do you have anything useful in there?'

>Just my clothes
>Some cooking utensils (Knives)
>Some useless gadgets (Laser Pointer, MP3 Speakers)

>>17695
>>Just my clothes
Is this where we die at the very start cause people chose to take the most retarded option; running into a battlefield with no training or equipment?

>>17695
>just your laundry

Let the bus driver go first, if he gets killed turn back and run for the hills.

>>17695
>just my clothes
Who brings cooking utensils or laser pointers to a fucking audition.

>>17731
No, this is where we die at the very start because the QM railroaded us to running into a battlefield with no training or equipment. But we might just as well ride the retard train to the end for shits and giggles.

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'Just... Just my clothes.'

'Why are you lugging it around then?'

It never really crossed your mind to drop your bag in all the chaos - mostly because pretty much everything decent that you could wear was stashed right in there. Now, though, it seemed so silly to lug the burden with you. You drop it in the alley - with a nod, the old man rushes out first; you follow right behind; he's thinner, fitter, and you have a million ways to cook and fry and are trying to play hero.

Around you, Hell seemed to have found a home. The shops are mercifully empty; most of the people had moved to the other side of the township of Yokosuka Base with the recruitment festival that went on the last few days. You slip through alley-ways and corners, praying for the Abyssals not to notice you until a block and a half past, you see a huddled group of people, drenched from the rain in a now - demolished sports port. Around them were four humanoid forms with large mushroom-like heads, with tendrils protruding from them . They were doing nothing to the people... but there were bodies littered all over the floor, men and women alike.

Dead. Cold.

You put your hand to your mouth to keep whatever it was churning in your stomach from coming out as the old man pushes your body against the wall of the alley and you both watch closely. It would be suicide to proceed - your endeavor, whatever its intentions were, had fallen flat on its face.

A low humming sound reaches your ears - followed by the rumble of an explosion from somewhere you can't see. The four beings float into the air, suddenly ignoring the huddling mass. Distracted by their rise, you slip on the debris of the wall you were stepping on.

'They're going somewhere... or needed elsewhere.' The old man says, looking to you for the next move. The huddle mass of people are wet and cold and more than likely wounded, but they're alive. The way looks clear, but something feels wrong about the setting. The first of which is that despite the fact that they were all alone now... they weren't moving an inch. The second of which would be that not one thing was in the air as you had seen from your previous encounter.

'Come on, let's grab them and go;' The bus driver presses, 'they might come back.'

'Doesn't this feel odd to you?'

'Look, you're the one who dragged me here to play noble, you coward! Make a move on already.'

Your eyes look to the people; a little boy looks back at you, his eyes as wide with fear.

>Signal the boy to come to you
>Go back into the alley
>Go and get them
>Throw some of the debris onto the court

>>17896
>Throw some of the debris onto the court
Better safe than sorry.

>>17896
>>Throw some of the debris onto the court
I don't need to be an admiral to know that's a trap.

>>17896
>Go back into the alley
Yeah, it's a trap. You're useless here, stop endangering yourself and the bus driver for no-one's benefit.

You throw a piece of concrete onto the court. The boy opens a mouth to yell something, but it falls on deaf ears as the debris goes into a messy arc... and shatters into muddy pieces before it hits the ground.

Several dark things crawl out of hiding. They looked like sharks... or shark-heads, pointed with bloated underbellies and strangely human appendages, sliding and crawling all over the ruins of buildings and from the rooftops of the shoplots, dropping and flopping onto ground like seals. They prowled the people in the middle of the court, unearthly grunting and crying coming from their wide mouths, that seemed to take up half their being.

They slide across the wet surface slowly, their quarry hugging each other in a single creature of fear. Their tongues flopp around while they crawled over the corpses of those that were littered outside the circle; the boy who had looked at you before was no longer seen, buried in a a combination of clothes and limbs as the things walked - jerked - towards...

The bus driver and you duck out of sight, your breathing uneven as you try to wrap your head of just what these things are... You turn to the bus driver for guidance. The only one you get is a shake of the head. It was suicide to rush out there. It would be stupid to try, after all.

Give up. There was no way you were going to be able to do it. It was impossible.

Several showed themselves just because you had thrown a simple rock.

You had nothing. Nothing but your bravado, your useless belly and your wits at trying to play the Hero. These people... they were done for - you couldn't do anything here, could you? There had to be something that could be done.

What do you do?

>Rush in blindly
>Go back into the alley
>Check your surroundings for another option

>>18236
>>Go back into the alley

>>18236
>Go back into the alley
Let's not witness their deaths.

>>18236
>Check your surroundings for another option
We're useless pieces of shit but we didn't come thia far for nothing.

>>18236
>Check your surroundings for another option
I mean we're already here, why pussy out at the last moment, as long as we don't get killed we might be able to do something.

Hope is the last thing to die.

>>18236
What do we have in our surroundings?

What if we throw those clothes on us and crawl past them?

>>18484
What on Earth would that accomplish?

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Desperate, you look around for something, anything. The things jerk around the circle of people. You don't know what kind of thoughts they're having. There isn't much to work with. There isn't much to work with the surroundings; the shop lot blocks that make up most of this section of the town are all compact in a narrow form - the ruins that make up the rest of the block directly opposite you are destroyed - there are a lot of hiding spots, ones out of the right view of the court, but sneaking around would be useless when the people were front and center.

The craning of your neck offers the view of a firefight going down one section down - where the four beings had headed before - while more of those things could be seen jerking through the rain. With nothing but the clothes on your back, there was nothing you could do to make use of what was around you.

The tug on your shirt was a signal for the old man to go. If the things noticed you, it would be the end of any daring play of Hero.

Out of the corner of your eye, past the cover-friendly rubble, you spare a quick glance at a downed, but probably still working bicycle and baseball bat on the other side of the shop lot block - probably belonging to one of the youth that lived in the area.

Another tug signals that you had to do something now. The things were moving as if agitated. You don't have a complete view of the rubble for cover or that of the exit gap to the main road. You could not stay in this same spot for long.

>Look around again
>Use the rubble for cover (Ask the old man to move somewhere else)
>Use the rubble for cover (Bring the old man with you)
>Go back to the alley
>Rush in

>>18736
>Use the rubble for cover (Ask the old man to move somewhere else)
He's keener to survive all this, maybe have him head back down the alley or something. Somewhere safer yet kinda close, so that if we can manage to figure out how to make some sort of decent distraction, he can help shepherd folks away?

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>>18794
Guys, I need to jet right now because of an emergency. I'll try to be back for this within 12 hours. Take care in the meantime.

>>18846
It wouldn't kill you to pump out updates *much* faster. Make the narration shorter, don't need to make things on a turn by turn basis?

>>18736
>Use the rubble for cover (Ask the old man to move somewhere else)

>>18846
Don't worry, see you later. It has been a pretty good quest.


>>18871
I think the style of the narration is fine as it is.

>>18910
One update every hour for very little payoff is pretty bad.

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The both of you move. The old man to the other side of the shop block and you into the makeshift cover made by the rubble. Not fifteen seconds pass when one of those things - hidden by the narrow view - pops their head into where you and the old man were hiding. You make your way around the block to the rubble, treading lightly. The lack of a heavy burden such as your bag makes it a much easier task to do so. You only have your stomach to work with, after all. Even with the harsh rain - it had begun to shower even more heavily in the meanwhile - and the sound of explosions in the distance you somehow manage to get yourself into the rubble for cover.

When you get to the other side... you were going to play bait.

You duck just in time as the things drop down. You remain unseen underneath a jagged concrete ruin, your form shadowed by its large size. As you pray to whatever higher power above, you listen closely to anything to throw guesswork whatever was on the other side of the ruin. Silently, and strangely, you are grateful that the bus driver had not followed you. The place was barely enough to keep one person hidden in very confined gaps - if there had been both of you, one or both of you would have been taken.

You crawl slowly as you see fingers and limbs belonging to the creatures show in the ledge above but do not peer into the gap - or their eyes, as such, not being able to do so. You crawl through the mud and cement slowly, until you reach the end of the rubble cover. The things are still up there and out there, but the lack of screaming meant that the people who you were doing this for were still alive as well... and any hope was a good thing.

You reach to the end of the covered mini-trail... and find a considerable distance, more than you had judged before, between you and the baseball bat and downed bicycle. It was ten-fifteen feet at abouts and not a direct dash, as a parallel wall provided a bit of an obstacle to get there. You'd only have your own ass to rely on and push up, but it'd take a considerable effort.

The things cannot see you here, for the time being, but who knows just how long it would take. You can't see the old man from where you are... this was all you.

>Retreat
>Make a dash to the bike and bat
>Ignore the bike and bat - run out and hope for the best
>Wait

>OOC: Apologies. Feed back is appreciated. I'll try to pick up the pace and narrative.

>>25726
>pic
Muh nigga, is that Shenmue?

>Ignore the bike and bat - run out and hope for the best

>>25726
>Make a dash to the bike and bat

whether to run out into the open

Ignore the bike and bat - run out and hope for the bes

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You judge the distance as well as you can - you judge that you won't make the dash. You conclude that the things would see you before you could even reach the bat and bike, and even then you wonder if with the backs to the wall, you'd be able to react quickly enough to make use of the bike. You reason that the bike would probably would not be in usable condition anyway, maybe... even the bat wouldn't give much of an advantage or game-breaker.

You're 200 pounds of meat. That had to be enough.

Yelling, you leap out of hiding.

Somewhere at the back of your head, you feel that the proctor had failed you correctly.

It didn't matter.

The creatures are stunned by the assault. From the sheer stupidity of it... or the surprise, you don't know... or care, for that matter. You take into that instant that there are about a dozen of these things - and you realize that every single one of them are the size of a beetle. They're lumbering, clumsy, with toothy shark-like heads that look at you in a confused expression - still caught in their revelation that you had leapt out like a fool.

Checking your shoulder, you ram right into the one closest to the center of the court. It skids on the ground - you look at the surprised eyes of the people, and yell, much louder than you meant.

'GET OUT OF HERE! GO!'

By some miracle, they grow the guts to get up - you see on the other end that the bus driver is now up and at it, yelling things you seem to have drowned out. You yell obscenities - some you make up at that very moment, kicking and running from creature to creature in some bizarre madman's rush. They fixate on you - as you hoped they would.

The things don't seem to be particularly good at balancing themselves - they slide like seals, but they move as newborn babes - unsure, hesitant - they're fast, but you maneuver them with a vengeance, your clothes tearing slightly as you slide by rough skin - armor - and try to catch them off-balance. You don't check on the yells - the old man would be there.

They stop. They're still. And now... as one... they move. It is strange to describe. They stand stiff like rabbits sensing danger... and bolt for the rushing group. The yells now have your attention. People are screaming over the rain.

You run. You grab onto the top of one of the things and unbalance it, sending it comically on its back and you rolling against rough concrete. You feel scrapes. You get back up and run for the things - they're grabbing people. You fight them off - you try to clawing way through. You punch and kick your way until you only see black in your view and white arms.

Then you feel something dig into your own... and you see teeth splattered with blood, your body numb and down as it drags you away from the crowd of people.

You reach out, cry and yell... oblivious to pain, struggling as you see white hands grab and hold you down - the teeth have probably hit bone by now.

There is the dark.

There is noise.

There is white.

[END PROLOGUE]

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You feel wet. That much was certain. You feel heavy, too, but you were fat, so that was a given. Your ears are clouded by some uncomfortable hum; you feel that your back is against some uncomfortable texture... and your limbs feel numb. The cold sensation that once felt secure comes back with a vengeance... along with the startling realization that, indeed... you had lungs and needed to breathe.

You vomit water. Your eyes are greeted by the stinging rain and the concerned view of a soot-and-mud-faced young woman that looked like a co-ed with soft pink hair and clad in what looked like armor made up of miniature cranes and samurai armor. You open your mouth to say something... but suddenly feel a wave of pain and let out a cry. The woman jabs something into your chest and the pain subsides - not by much, but it does. Your ears clear out the sound - the hum - and you feel as though nothing in your body is as it should be.

You can't feel your right arm - you can't even raise it. Your legs - you can feel them, but you can't move them proper - any attempt you make to even jiggle your foot is met with pain. The young woman looks at you with motherly eyes, holding your head - she's saying something... you can make it out, but it takes quite a chunk of your concentration. She's saying it fast and loudly, but you're fading fast...

'Stay with me, sir! You're okay! You're okay! Don't move anything. Just breathe. Stay awake.'

You try hard to keep your eyes open... To listen to her, but you just feel so tired, You look at your right arm... it's in a strange angle... and it looks like it was put through some sick carnival twist. You can feel it... or can't. Whatever she pumped into your heart has somehow affected your ability to care about anything... other than...

A nap.

'SIR!'

You snap right back to it, feeling a cold sensation going down your throat. Pain. Pain re-introduces itself to your body. You fight down a cry of pain. The woman has put your right arm back right... there's blood everywhere. The cranes on her armor have somehow put it right again... it's got a sizeable divot - gash or tear, more likely - and you wonder if you'll ever use it again.

But the pain. Good Heaven, the pain. There's nothing like this.

It's as though a lorry was continually ramming into a wall with no stopping. You feel numb... and feel everything at the same time. You cry out and she puts her weight - considerable weight, you muse slightly, through it all - on you and jabs you again with a hypo of green-blue liquid. Your lungs take in more air than you ever did before, and expel it. You're warmer, in constant pain... but...

Alive. You are alive.

'NAGATO-SAN! NAGATO-SAN! WE HAVE ONE MORE HERE!'

You look to the woman, finding some strength to speak, even if it's not much.

>'Where am I?'
>'What... What's that thing?' (Inquire about your arm and the needle in your chest)
>'Where's everyone?' (Inquire about the people you tried to save)
>'Where are those things?'

>>27118

>'Where's everyone?' (Inquire about the people you tried to save)

>>27118
>>'What... What's that thing?' (Inquire about your arm and the needle in your chest)

>>27118
>'Where's everyone?' (Inquire about the people you tried to save)

>>27118
>'What... What's that thing?' (Inquire about your arm and the needle in your chest)

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'Where... Where is everyone?'

You bite down as the pain - the equivalent of drills going into your ears - takes you over and the woman says something; her hand pushes down on you and she pulls out the points from your chest, pressing strongly on you as if to hold you down from rocketing into the skies. You feel another sharp pain in your back and try to arch, but her considerable strength keeps you down in the rough sand.

'They're gone.' You feel something hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you; her eyes look downcast, but she tends to you, nonetheless. 'A lot of people were taken. But... but you were able to save some. They told us what happened.'

'That was a brave thing of you to do, sir.' You see a smile - a sad one - eke out from her soaked face and downcast eyes. 'If you weren't there, none of them would be here. You and that old man.'

'Wasn't enough.' The pain was still constant, but somehow it was more manageable for you to talk. You still couldn't - wouldn't, more like - move, let alone feel anything properly. 'The old man...' You inquired. 'Is he...?'

That motherly glance came again, radiant, but subdued.

'He's in better condition than you are.' She touches your right shoulder, biting her lip as more of those strange crane-like things do their work... whatever they were doing. 'A lot of them are in shock, but otherwise... they're alive.'

Briefly, she looks to the still-turbulent sea - the rain was slowly stopping.

'No one's good to them that far damaged.'

You try to follow, but find that you couldn't. To your right, you see the faded figure of a few people rushing towards you. You feel the warmth... and the hurt... coming in waves. You move your left arm - the one that you feel working, and raise it. The pink-haired woman grabs your hand, shaking her head at you to stop doing anything else.

You feel yourself fading, but hold on as her determined gaze looks to your arm. Whatever it was she was doing to it... it didn't feel wrong. You part your lips again, to speak. You bite your tongue a bit to stay awake, taking in the cold air once more.

>'Where am I?'
>'What...What's that thing?'
>'Where were those things?'

>>27365
>'What...What's that thing?'

>>27365
>'Where am I?'

>>27365
>'What...What's that thing?

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'What is that thing?'

Your inquiry is met with another influx of pain, but it's lighter. You don't feel anything in your right arm... the fear that you may lose it mounts, but the amount of hurt, the blender you've just been through doesn't allow you to think any much more of it. She puts a hand onto your forehead. She yells out for someone - you don't catch what she's yelling for, but her healing hands don't leave you. She looks at you, moving your trying her best to project reassurance.

'It's fata aqueous.' she says quickly, waving even more urgently. 'HERE! HERE!'

'What - ?'

'I'm sorry... we didn't know it would get this bad.' She began mournfully. 'A lot of people are hurt and we don't have enough medics to go around to help them... we've never had to deal with wounded humans before... I'm sorry, but this is all I can do for now. I'm sorry... please, just... just lie down.'

You try to open your mouth to thank her, this Kan-Musu, wondering just why she was so upset by the question, but can't say anything else. Another sharp intake of pain hits you. Your right arm. Your right arm... you felt it just now; in that instant. You turn to look, but find a strange thing - it was as though a construction yard had taken up a project on your limb - you felt nothing now, but the sight of your arm looking like there was some contractor's field day was surreal.

But somehow... now it looked like a good time for a nap.

'NAGATO-SAN! AKITSUMARU-KUN!'

Two forms you could barely make out came upon you. You feel your limbs flop uselessly as the one the figures lifted you up. The grip is strong, and your arms are tucked on your chest as the person carries you. Whatever you feel right now, the warm embrace of slumber pulls stronger than anything else and you roll back as the instances of pain somehow grow more and more apart.

'I've done what I can... I wasn't sure what to do! I - I had to think quick!' The pink-haired woman's voice sounds. Your eyes open a bit, trying to take in all you can before all else engulfs you.

'It's all right, Akashi; it's all right.'

The voice sounds familiar. It's a woman, that much is certain. You can't quite place it, but you have heard it before.

'Akitsumaru! Summon the Daihatsu now!'

Your eyes grab the view of a pale, doll-like woman clad in black military wear, the ground around her glowing as tiny things... people... tiny people dance around her in some sort of ritualistic rhythm. You cock your head to get a better look at the person holding you. You see the pink-haired Kan-Musu, Akashi, her crane-like things shifting and turning into smaller parts, melting completely into her armor.

You then look upwards...

And see the face of a ghost.

'Not such a coward, are you?'

You can't tell if it's a warm smile, or a smug one.

'You'll be all right.'

Before you close your eyes...

>'Thank you...'
>'I'm sorry...'
>'I'm glad you're alive.'
>'I don't want to go.'
>Say nothing

>>27498
>'I don't want to go.'
We'll show you! We are a coward and there's no changing that!

>>27498
>'I'm glad you're alive.'
RIP

>C) holy shit youre alive, awesome

>>27498
>'Not such a coward, are you?'
"Nope, just too dumb to live."

>>27498
>'Thank you...'

Rolled 87 (1d100)

roll to casually grab boobs without retribution

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You feel sore all over. Not quite in pain, save your head. You slowly open your eyes, heavy as they are, to see a brown ceiling... no, beige canvas. You try to move your shoulders, but find some kind of brace preventing you from doing much. On top of you, a military blanket is snug. You feel yourself naked save for a pair of trunks under them. Self-conscious of your form, you stay under the blanket as you look around.

There aren't many people.

Most of the beds are empty, but there are still quite a few people around. You see a medic, or someone who looks like one, ducking out of the tent - you realize you're in some sort of medical tent, in all likelihood owned by the Admiralty. Most of the people in it are men and women dozing off, most of them on IV drips of that same blue liquid that that Kan-Musu - Akashi - had injected into you.

The small rays of sun peeking out from the tent gaps tell you that it was day-time or the afternoon. Your bed is hard, but you're used to worse. You try to wiggle your arms and legs, just to make sure they were all there... and feel a sharp pain in it.

Pain.

You look under the covers to see your right arm bound in a cast of sorts from forearm to fingertips. You can feel your fingers under there... a surprise. By some miracle they had managed to put your arm back together just fine. The brace, however, ensured that there were not many things you could do proper. All-in-all, it was not as bad as one had expected. They fixed you up just fine, and the scratches seemed to be coming along proper.

'I'm glad you're alive'

You recoil and turn red as you remember the pocketful of spaghetti you dropped, your distress heightening as you feel the sheer reality and embarrassment of such words uttered to a complete, albeit, entrancing and powerful stranger. You groan as you lie back, the brace uncomfortably keeping you in place while you try to make sense of why you had uttered them.

Somehow your braces catches your blanket; with a scowl you try to set it right... and then you see something - in really rough handwriting - written on the cast, with a childish cartoon thumbs-up on it.

"Get well, soldier - Battleship Nagato"

As you smile, you feel the weight of the blanket shift... and the face of a bespectacled... teenage girl looking at you. She nods quickly, folding the blanket to your waistline.

'Glad you're up.'

>'What is this place?'
>'What happened?'
>'How'd I get here?'
>'Who are you?'
>'I have a headache.'

>OOC: If things end in a tie-breaker, I will be tallying the value of the vote by the number of times the users have posted in a decision process. Helps save time so I can write up faster. In event of another tie, I go by the fastest posters. I'll be deliberating as to if this needs fine-tuning.

>>27672
>'I have a headache.'
>'What happened?'

>>27672
Soldier. Whats the situation

>'What happened?'

>>27672
>>OOC: If things end in a tie-breaker, I will be tallying the value of the vote by the number of times the users have posted in a decision process. Helps save time so I can write up faster. In event of another tie, I go by the fastest posters. I'll be deliberating as to if this needs fine-tuning.
If it comes to a tie just roll a 1dx for the tied votes.

>'Who are you?'

>>27672
>'What happened?'

>>27672
>'What happened?'

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'I'm sorry, but I was wondering - !'

She raises a hand for you to cease your speaking, checking a chart beside your bed and nodding in understanding. Your mouth, comically, remains open as she checks around your bed as though you were some sort of science project and she was the judge. She makes several noises of approval, noticeably getting chirpier as she walks all around your bed - you feel irritation as she flicks your metal brace strongly, letting out a cry of joy.

Strange, this one.

The girl smooths her lab coat after, taking a seat on the stool next you. She says nothing for a moment, taking out a clipboard... and a notepad out from her pocket.

'Now... you may speak.'

'What happened?'

The girl cocks her head, before letting a slow... somehow dead smile right out.

'We were attacked, of course.'

For some reason - probably the headache - you feel a mite more irritated than you should.

'Of course I know we were attacked! What I want to know is wh - !'

'Advanced too far.' She says mechanically, taking out a pencil and scribbling furiously upon the notepad - alternating between it and the clipboard. 'Spread forces too thin, underestimated the severity of a counterattack.' She doesn't look up to you, 'Tactical mistake on all our parts; got cocky; didn't think it through proper. Lives were lost. Tactical posts forcefully taken back.'

Her smile grew wider; even in here, it was downright eerie... uncanny.

'You were one of the cadets,' she huffed, 'I saw you, you know; you were the one trying to show off your cooking skills to the proctors.'

You feel yourself grow red at the memory.

'Yet they said you saved people.' Her head cocked to another side, her expression one of clear confusion. 'Is this true?'

The pink-haired woman, Akashi's, words, echo in your thoughts. You see black and white mish-mash for an instant, sighing and rattling your brace in one heavy breath.

'Not all of them.'

'You exceeded your capacity.' She turned back to the clipboard, her expression inquisitive. 'To do more than what is expected of you is an achievement in itself... it is sometimes not possible to achieve optimum results even with an impeccable standard.'

'That is not weakness.'

She looks at you... this time with a smile that actually reaches her eyes.

'That is life.'

You find yourself unable to reply to that... and she looks to the notepad again, scribbling away.

'Anything else you'd like to ask?'

>'What is this place?'
>'How'd I get here?'
>'Who are you?'
>'I have a headache.'
>'How am I looking?'

>>27793
>'How am I looking?'

Gotta worry about ourselves for a second

>>27793
>'How am I looking?'

Considering that Akashi made mention of fata aqueous, as well as the fact that she had never had to deal with wounded humans before, it might be a good idea to get an idea of how badly we got smashed up.

Might be good to also have a few manners and introduce ourselves, as well as get the name of our friendly companion at the moment.

>>27793
>>'What is this place?'
>>'How'd I get here?'
Also ask what would happen to you now.

>>27793
>'How'd I get here?'

>>27793

>How am I looking?

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You feel the irritating stiffness of the brace, lying back down to keep your headache from getting any worse. The glasses-wearing girl hummed lightly to herself, not budging an inch from her seat and throwing the occasional glance upwards in thought as she scribbled through the clipboard.

You ask the second question to come to mind.

'How am I looking?'

The girl puts down the pencil, turning to face you with those glass-blue eyes behind her glasses. She doesn't look at you for a while, leafing through the small collection of papers from it. She doesn't say a thing after a minute of going through them, turning to you again after. You lay in uncomfortable silence as she looks... past you now, as though in a weird trance.

'You are currently in recuperation.' She spouts it out as though she is a machine. 'Your body currently works in line with the alpha produce of fata aqueous and shows a positive correlation with that of regular treatment with the product - in line with approximately 27 percent of those treated this way. You are fortunate to have a positive reaction to such treatment.

'You are braced and fitted to ensure no bones, muscle or sinew tear. While your movement is restricted, your positive reaction to fata aqueous has pushed your body's fatigue and recovery thresholds to their limits - I do not advise you do any... "heavy lifting".'

You say nothing, confused by her words. She adjusts her glasses.

'In layman's terms, you only require rest.' She finishes, looking back at the clipboard. 'You have shown a strange affinity to this method of recuperation. While not at all rare, it defies the odds for you to be able to heal this way, even through all that.'

She mumbles to herself for a moment, before looking at you again.

'You have defied the odds twice now.' Her tone is neutral. 'If I believed in karma, I would have praised yours.'

You don't know how to reply to that, either.

'However, despite the positive outlook, you are still in the phase of recuperation. The officers will send an attendee to the tent later to give a more thorough readout of your condition. While my analysis finds you in good, positive health and fit for release, it is still in their hands on whether they think you should be released into your own... care.'

>'What is this place?'
>'How'd I get here?'
>'I have a headache.'
>'What is fata aqueous?'

>>28082
>'What is fata aqueous?'

>>28082
>'What is fata aqueous?'

>'What is fata aqueous?'

>>28082

>What is fata aqueous?

>>28172
I mean, now that quests are not on the traditional games board, this spam makes even less sense. You do as you like I suppose.
>>28082
>'What is fata aqueous?'

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'Just what is fata aqueous?'

The girl frowns at you as the question hits her. For a moment, you feel like you've asked the wrong question, as she comes towards you from a seated position. From up close, even with her stoic look, she was rather pretty. She puts a knee on the bed, the creaking sound echoing in the otherwise quiet tent, peering through those clear glasses with an eerie wide focus... and produces her hand.

It is open-palmed, and... empty.

No... it isn't.

There is something there. You can feel it... something... dancing. In small flashes it seems as though a tiny being - a very small person - is dancing in it. It is faint and warm... but at the same time full of energy and life. Little blue and pink sparks occasionally show, if only for a moment, before disappearing altogether. As you watch the nothingness... you feel your wrapped right arm... pulse, as if in reaction. It causes some discomfort, and your nerves feel as if something bites on their ends.

'This is fata aqueous.' she said evenly. 'They're more known as Fairy's Tears. We, the Ship Girls, use them to heal our wounds. It was once pioneered as a potential cure for maladies some time ago... but, well...' she smiled darkly, pulling back her hand, 'It is more prudent to say that the effects it has on individuals vary from person to person. Eventually, we found how to distill it into a more concentrated and practical form.'

You open your mouth to speak, but find a cold stare on you - effectively silencing you from saying anymore.

'Anything else is classified, sir patient.' A smile that shows all her teeth is within five inches of you, dangerous and intimidating. 'Just be thankful it didn't kill you.'

She pulls back, that smile still there.

It didn't seem she was leaving any time soon, either.

>'What is this place?'
>'How'd I get here?'
>'I have a headache.'
>'Who are you?'

>>28421
>'How'd I get here?'

>>28421

>What is this place?

>>28421
>What is this place?

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'Just where am I, exactly?'

'You're with me.'

You look at her in confusion, wondering if it was a joke or an answer.

'You are in a makeshift medical treatment unit - low priority quarters, transferred here around 16 hours ago after the operation was successful.'

'What operation would that be?' You inquire further, genuinely curious.

'The one to keep you breathing, sir patient.' she says, a cat-like smile making its way onto her features again.

She raises herself from her position, tapping the apparatus to the side of your bed and double-checking her clipboard. A slight frown makes its way onto her features as she kneeled, dialing a few of the knobs on the bottom of the device, occasionally scribbling onto the clipboard. Silence reigns between you both for a minute or so, until she turns back to you, tapping the pen to her chin.

'This is a makeshift camp to aid the township after the attack by the Abyssals.' She says, taking her seat gain, shuffling for comfort. 'They suffered near-catastrophic damage in the assault. The battle resulted in the destruction of a large section of the town - most of the places close to the sea have been rendered uninhabitable and hazardous zones. Many of the inhabitants have taken to foot and left their livelihoods.'

She pauses for a while, her brows creasing into a frown.

'Some have come to gather around the Naval Base grounds.' She says with a somber neutrality. 'As we are understaffed and under-supplied from our effort to push back the Abyssals and to protect the town... we are struggling to cope with the maintenance of so many.'

'Can't you contact the Admiralty for assistance?' As far as you knew, the Admiralty had always been at the front where it concerned logistics - one of the main reasons there were still towns near bases even with the danger posed was that the Admiralty still cared for the people enough to keep them from upping sticks.

She looks at you blankly.

'Sir patient, I believe I have already mentioned the severity of the assault by the abyssals.' The girl turns back to her 'Short, their push might have been, but the scope of the damage is far and wide. Ominato and Maizuru have been all but wiped out; in the bigger picture, our care and concern is not of... particular priority to them.'

As she scribbles, something hits your concern harder than knowledge of Ominato and Maizuru's bases being vanquished.

'Were you cleared to tell me all that?'

She takes off her glasses and cleans them with a handkerchief, her clipboard resting on her lap.

'It became public information as of 1300 hours yesterday.' She says casually. 'Whether you curl up in a ball of fear or not is not of my concern... although the braces would make that task a little.... harder. So, please, sir, after you have fully recuperated, please do not hesitate to help.'

It could have been a threat or suggestion.

'We would hate for our goodwill to be... wasted.'

>'How'd I get here?'
>'Who are you?'
>'I have a headache.'

>>29005
If I were you I would just avoid writing walls of text like these and go for updating within 30 minutes. Long text walls like these are bad for attention span, and long update times kills interest in quests over here compared to other sites.

>>29005
>Who are you?

>>29005

>Who are you?

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'I hope you don't mind me asking, but, just... who are you?'

'Logistics and Supply Management Head - Light Cruiser Ooyodo.' she says automatically. 'Also, Acting Sub-Commander to the Patrol Force of Yokosuka and acting Admiralty Liaison.'

'Acting Sub-Commander?'

'Yes.' She says, still not looking up from her clipboard.

She mentions nothing else, even as you wait for a follow-up, scribbling things into her clipboard and notepad. You conclude she's not the type that likes to reveal too much of herself - but now, at least, you have a name, and someone of rank, to boot. It would be a stretch to say you actually KNOW her... but at least you now have a point of referral.

You lean back into your pillow, hard as it is. Your head is still sore, but it doesn't bother you as much as it did before.

>'How did I get here?'
>I have a headache.

>>29145
>I have a headache.
Let's get some rest, and figure everything else out once we can do more than blink.

>>29145

>How did I get here?

Fuck pain. Let's get more intel about our situation.

>>29145
>>I have a headache.

>>29145
Maybe you should give us a twitter or something to tell us when you're ready, or shout out to other places to bus in more votes

>>29145
>>I have a headache.

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'Ooyodo-san, I think I feel something coming on.'

Your free hand reaches for your head. You can feel the sweat falling off your brow with a swipe. For some unfathomable reason you feel some kind of strange fatigue coming upon you. You don't feel tired; in some pain, yes, but you don't feel tired. Yet, it's as though your brain was imploding on itself and bringing you to realms unknown in some bizarre instant. You try to shift position, but the brace digs into you with that shift - you let out a haggard breath.

Ooyodo holds you steady with cold, but welcome hands. Her fingers feel light... but seem to carry with them some roughness of experience and callus-proven how-to. She brings a handkerchief to your forehead, wiping it as your eyelids feel as though they are being forced shut and pried open at the same time. There is no pain - just a strange sensation and a warmth that goes through you.

It's as though something was sucking your brain dry.

You move to clutch at something but your limbs don't move. Nothing moves. The dry air hits your eyes - you feel paralyzed. You might as well be. You try to move something. You try to click your teeth. You try to blow your nose. Nothing happens. Nothing changes - you only see the beige top of the tent and are caught in a strange psychedelic stretch that seems to drag you through a flat brown plain. You feel fear. You feel amused. Everything at once hits you.

You hear laughing but see somber faces. You see crying faceless visages but hear shouts of anger and promises of retribution. You see a set of white teeth, ripping through them and coming at you to consume - !

You feel safe.

A dim blue glow is all that you see in a sea of white. You look down to see your hands not there. Your limbs, your body... there is nothing.

You are in the tent, that uncomfortably hard pillow is under your head... and you are breathing and alive. You try to move but feel that you can't. You try to take in a breath but your nose does not do as it is told. You feel trapped and still.

But you are here... aren't you?

'Calm down.' you hear Ooyodo's voice, her fingers clutching your head, 'You're reacting to the Fairy's Tears. Relax. Breathe.'

You try to take in a breath again.

'I - I can't.'

'You are breathing, sir patient. You are taking in a breath.' her voice is no longer mechanical - it is... in a word, calming. 'Just breathe.'

Yes. You are breathing. In. Out.

'What's... What's going on?' you question hazily, your senses back.

'You are merely reacting to the treatment.' she says simply. 'Humans are normally unable to handle any concentration of Fairy's Tears. Your brain is going through a mental spearing - one of the after-effects of what we have done to keep you breathing.'

'Calm yourself down.' That enigmatic smile reaches you again. 'Nowhere but... into your dreams.'

The last thing you see... is a tiny girl in a sailor's uniform, holding onto your nose as you drift...

[END INTERLUDE]

>OOC: TBC In Several Hours.

>>29446

OP, you have my interest. I will await your future posts.

>>29446
QM, If I were you I wouldn't focus on frou-frou uppercrust-y VN or /lit/ writing, just push out the updates in less than 30 minutes.

If I were you I wouldn't start the quest with a CoD/Rainbow Six wrought out survival intro, but instead start out in the ward where you're recovering and about to get out of bed, and then you get questioned on how you got there, like the actions you took to survive and stuff. And then turn around and see familiar faces on the other hospital beds to piece things together or two. Would be faster that way.

>>29765
You again? Some of us like frou-frou weeaboo writing. If you want a faster quest you can go elsewhere, there's 150 threads in this board.

>>29765
You're not even participating, you're just here to complain?

Anyway, this: >>29812
>Some of us like frou-frou weeaboo writing.

>>29765

If I were you, I'd write my own quest.

>>29765
I personally enjoy the style of writing and the length of each entry. It has my interests and I'm enjoying it so far.

Not every quest needs to be 3 sentences long.

>>29765

Completely disagree, especially with the experimental board's setup. In truth, this new board actually plays to the strengths of a slower quest with more substantial updates.

It's one of the few upsides of the new setup, since this type of quest might get lost and pushed off your standard board.

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>Ooyodo

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It is well-known that you are a lug of a man and a bit of a coward. You can make a mean dish, but that's about it for you. You weren't the physical type. Of course, you LOOKED like it - if there was a wall, you'd be the fatty waist of it. Throughout your life people joked about you probably being able to put someone into submission and see the grace of Heaven with your ass on their laps. Those days were few and far between, but...

Were you really the type of man that people would envision having some badass cyborg arm?

The nervous visage of Akashi comes into view, flanked by three volunteer MPs. She was clad in that strange samurai get-up, making her look more intimidating than the three volunteers around her, young and large as they are. It has been almost a week since your fata aqueous treatment - almost a week of hallucinations and nightmares, but you had pulled through. You were one of the last to be discharged and would be assigned to the Quartermaster soon, and this was to be your last check-up.

You raise your head a bit, taking in the new sights.

Specifically, the one of the few tiny fairies now jumping from bed to bed, the other patients blissfully unaware of them as some of them were used for their ears and limbs as platforms.

'100 percent recovery of your arm was not able to be achieved through treatment. The damage that had been done to it wasn't able to bring it all back. The prosthetic gauntlet is attuned to the fata aqueous that we had put into your system - we're sorry, but... we did the best we could with what we did.' She says in one breath.

You raise your right arm.

As clunky as it looked, you had to admit the design wasn't restrictive. You had seen some people before with braces on their arms and legs to help with them day-to-day. This looked like some sort of military-grade battle-ready robotic gauntlet. You turn your hand.

You can feel it. Underneath the metal, you can sense... flesh.

'What did you - ?'

Akashi responds faster than the speed of thought.

'Your bones, flesh, muscles, are intact but a majority of functions and sensitivities were not able to be restore to previous capacity - the treatment itself was a leap of faith for us but... it couldn't heal everything. The prosthetic gauntlet makes up for the loss in capacity and capability - because of your physical response to the treatment, we were able to enable to use the Kantai Steel and make a prosthetic for your use. We couldn't just cut it all; so we put it together to help you manage, at least.'

She lets out a deep breath.

'Everything else you have is fine and working as can be.' She finishes. 'It's not a replacement limb. It's only there to make up for any capacity and function that you would not otherwise be able.'

You raise yourself for a response.

>'So the rest of me is okay, right?'
>'Anything I should know about this thing?'
>'Thank you.'
>'This. Is. Awesome.'
>'Not how I thought this week was going to go.'
>'Do I have to report in now?'

>>36521
>'Anything I should know about this thing?'
Let's make sure we have a clear picture.

>>36521
>'This. Is. Awesome.'
>'Thank you.'

>>36521
>>'Anything I should know about this thing?'

>>36521

>Thank you.
>This is awesome.

Immediately followed by

>Anything I should know about this thing?

>>36521
>'Anything I should know about this thing?'

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You give the hand a whirl. While it looks heavy and bulky, it moves just as you would normally - it jerks slightly, as you are unused to the weight... and also that rather than a prosthetic, it feels as though you are directing a puppet's strings rather than moving muscle - but you also feel as though it is another limb. You try to flex your arm and feel a sudden shift as the forearm comes up.

It looks normal, but definitely feels strange.

'Is there anything I should know about this thing?' You set your arm down and look up at her. 'An instruction manual?'

'I'm sorry, but... in your case...' Akashi bites her lip, clutching her clipboard close to her chest, 'Humans have varied wildly on their reaction to any level of concentration of fata aqueous, but this is one of the times we've seen it react favorably... to an extent, in any case,' she actually looks apologetic, 'Studies have shown only exceptional cases where grafting and recovery by use of the substance have been relatively successful - even rarer that that it would enable you to develop a low affinity for Kantai Metal.'

'Whatever the Heavens do, at least by this, they have done right by you.'

A word catches your attention amidst all the technical details.

'Kantai Metal?'

'It's...' she bites her lip again, nodding to your metal arm, 'what your arm is made of... mostly; your exposure to fata aqueous allowed us to reconstruct an exoskeleton in order to compensate for what you would have normally lost. We're not fully specialized in the recovery of humans, but your response to the treatment enabled us to proceed further. If you had not we wouldn't have proceeded. We did what we could with what we had. It's the compound made to form our gear.'

So you were wearing KanMusu gear, effectively.

You lift your arm and set your hand evenly, trying to get a feel for it. It did feel like an extra limb.

'To further aid in your rehabilitation... I would suggest that you take up script-writing with that hand. Cursive would would help you with the control of your wrist and fingers. It'd be well of you to start with large lettering and work your way down.' Akashi coughs into her hand, smiling at you reassuringly... whether it was from the bottom of the heart or to put on a front, you don't know...

And you don't pry, either.

'If at any point you need to relieve yourself of the prosthetic,' Akashi bends forward towards your arm, flipping a latch to reveal something that looked like two small levers on your tricep, 'just flick this and you'll get your arm out of it. But I wouldn't press on that now - It's best for you to get used to it first.'

'Will it rust?'

Akashi blinks.

When you realize the stupidity of the question, you look away, sheepish.

She giggles.

>'So the rest of me is okay, right?'
>'Thank you.'
>'This. Is. Awesome.'
>'Not how I thought this week was going to go.'
>'Do I have to report in now?'

>Anything I should know about this thing

>'So the rest of me is okay, right?'

>>38573
>'Thank you.'

>>38573
>'Do I have to report in now?'

>>38573
>This is awesome
Followed by
>Thank you

>>38573
>'Thank you.'
We've done so well out of this it's not even funny. We ought to be dead, or at least permanently disabled, but instead we've been given hyper-advanced prosthetics despite this being a warzone.

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>>38666
>OOC: Spoiler - the type of prosthetic you would have acquired would have depended on if you had run for the hills with the driver or had gone back. You lose your legs running away, You lose your arm fighting, You lose your eyesight if you go back for the KanMusu blindly. It would have been entirely possible to go through this without losing anything.

>OOC: I'm only allowing two options just this once, try not to get spoiled, sirs.

'Thank you.' You throw Akashi a smile, raising your mechanical arm to shake her hand. She looks back at you in surprise, as if not expecting your thanks. 'No, really, thank you, Miss Akashi. All you've done for me... Thank you.'

She takes your hand... and with surprise you feel as though she is touching the skin on your fingertips through the gauntlet. You look up to her and see a small smile on her features in response to your own - behind her, the trio of MPs respectfully look away, but you can tell at least two of them have a snigger in-between. You raise up to your full height, realizing she barely comes up to your chest. She has to look up at you to meet your gaze.

'Between us, this is actually pretty cool.' The clumsy whirring of the exoskeleton slightly puts you off, but you flex it anyway. Memories of your time as a child come to light - for one brief moment you're in front of the family television, your arm in a fist, pretending to blast rogue robotic foes like some Tokusatsu Sentai Hero. It's not all as you imagine, and a little bit harder to manage, but the child in you can't fight the glee. It was like some grammar school child's dream come true.

You don't notice the sparkle in your eyes as you round on the smaller young woman. You miss the apprehension in her expression as you bring the arm up like a new toy.

'Does it fire lasers?'

'Um...'

'Can it change into a cannon?'

'I...'

'Does it make that cool humming noise that Tony St - !'

'SIR! COPYRIGHT!'

You stiffen, sheepish again and sit down. Behind her, the volunteer MPs snigger. Akashi, red herself, flips through the clipboard and takes out a pen, scribbling something down as her eyes dart between you and the clipboard, obviously embarrassed from her outburst. There's a moment of quiet in the place... but only a moment, as Akashi clears her throat.

'It's... just a normal exoskeleton gauntlet from the Admiralty's RD re-issue.' Covering her face with the clipboard, she went on, 'But... I... MAY... have taken a few notes for the purely aesthetic re-design'

You turn your head to Akashi, who looks anywhere but at you.

Behind her, the MPs smirk very visibly.

>'So the rest of me is okay, right?'
>'Do I have to report in now?'

>>38928
>Do I have to report in now?

I feel like we should be wary of these MPs. They're never good news IRL.

>>38928
>So the rest of me is okay right?

These MPs are kinda dicks, but I'm pretty sure that's in their job description. Heck, they may even get training for it.

>>38928
>'So the rest of me is okay, right?'
If it doesn't hurt it's probably okay, but it pays to check.

>'So the rest of me is okay, right?'

>>38928
Obviously they have given us shoulder cannons
>'So the rest of me is okay, right?'

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'The rest of me is... in working order, right?'

'So far, you're good to go.' Akashi reads from her clipboard. 'You've been through the reports again and again, so I won't be bothering you with that, but your favorable response to the treatment has helped a great deal. We're not quite sure of any after-effects - while your case is rare, it isn't unheard of humans to be able to tap into fata aqueous to assist to operating capacity. While you may find it a bit strenuous to do some heavy-lifting immediately, you should be all cylinders within a few days.'

'Oh.' Is all you can say, looking between your arm and Akashi, who had set down the clipboard and reached for a bottle of pills in one of her pockets. She mumbles something you don't quite catch, and produces them to you. You take it gingerly. 'What... is this?'

'You might be a bit sore in the mornings. Even though your body isn't negatively affected in the physical context, there is still some strain that could give you some more... mental problems.' She quickly adds, 'Not in that sense, but you might have psychedelic effects or some headaches as you grow accustomed to the fata aqueous in your system. These have almost always been a universal constant among those - humans - who have been treated this way.'

You notice that there is nothing written to the side of the bottle.

'How many a day?'

'One before you sleep for the next week.' It's an automatic response. She raises a hand to her forehead, rubbing it. 'I'm sorry... it's my first time managing all of this. I'm not that used to this level of interaction with people. I usually only tend to Ship Girl affairs - this is the first time I've had to deal with a human factor.'

You see a wry smile form on her lips.

'But your bones and tissue have healed nicely. There's still some scarring, but otherwise there isn't much to keep you from marching on out... although, I do suggest you take it easy for the next week.'

'You're sure that there's nothing too far gone?' You had to make sure, after all.

'Truthfully... when we brought you in, I thought you'd have lost your hearing and your legs - not even counting your arm.' She takes up the clipboard and taps your chest good-naturedly. 'But... you didn't, and... I suppose, it makes me thankful to see you alive.'

You rub the back of your neck in embarrassment.

>'Do I have to report in now?'

>>39384

>Do I have to report in now?

May as well get it over with. Also I'm getting some really weird vibes from her.

>>39415
>Also I'm getting some really weird vibes from her.
Eh, that's probably true of a lot of the people on the site.

>>39436
No I mean I just don't trust doctors. Been fucked over by the medical community more times than I can count.

>>39443
Fair enough.

>>39384
>Do I have to report in now?
They clearly want us for SOMETHING, even if they're being nice about it. Lets put on our best face and find out what we're in for.

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'Do I...'

You choose your next words carefully, looking to the volunteer MPs and back to Akashi.

'Do I have to report in now?'

'Actually...' Akashi lets out an apologetic smile - a small one, but apologetic nonetheless, 'you're required to report to the new Quartermaster. It used to be Ooyodo-san.'

You feel a small chill go down your spine.

'But since the assault... we're so short-handed that we've had to re-delegate the assignments. It ended up affecting us a lot worse than we thought it would. Right now we're trying whatever we can to get the operations back to tip-top shape, but... with command as it is now, we're making use of what we have.'

'What about the township? The people there?'

'A decent amount of them have stayed... but most of the survivors have left for the camps further inland.' She sighs tiredly. 'We lost quite a bit of our battle-ready forces in the defense of the base. Not many people have their faith in us after that SNAFU.'

'Any able man or woman that's stayed behind has agreed to help in some capacity.' An MP, a young man too thin to be of military stock, steps forward, 'The KanMusus have always been there for us - and for this town. For us to abandon them for a tragedy that wasn't of their doing after so much... it just isn't done.'

Akashi nods in gratitude. From her expression, you can see that she is clearly touched. The MP steps back and you see the other two slapping his back in good fun.

'So if you're able... the Quartermaster is in the near the beach of this camp. I suggest before you do anything to see her first. With the added security, it would be best for her to brief you on what you need and how you can help.'

'How do I know her?'

'You'll know her. She's the loudest one on the beach.' She reaches into a pocket, pulling out something that looks like a tag and handing it to you. You take it and see that it has nothing but a number on it - VL-624. 'That's your temporary identification matrix - and I emphasize on temporary. You'll get your ID from the Quartermaster for better access to the base's facilities. She knows you're coming to see her... and I suggest you should step on it. She's never been one for patience and I told her you would be down there in an hour.'

You pocket the tag... when suddenly Akashi, her eyes narrower now, points to her left chest. Once again, feeling foolish, you take it out and put it on your t-shirt. She nods a goodbye to you, indicating there was somewhere she had to be, leaving with the three MPs outside the tent. Looking to see your bed void of any of your belongings - as if you had any with you - you and your new-fangled arm follow suit and exit the tent.

Outside, you see ruins and tents. Everywhere, you see broken concrete and shattered roofs. Among them you see men and women coming out and into tents. The assault had done quite a number on the seafront of this part of town. You take it all in... and sigh.

So this was war.

>Walk around the township
>Go to the beach

>>39565
Walk around. The Quartermaster can wait.

>>39565
>Walk around the township

>>39565
>Go to the beach
We don't need to run, but there's no point in antagonizing these people (or in being a dick).

>>39565
>Go to the beach

>>39565
>Go to the beach
Never be late in the military, especially when they give you a bangin ass robo arm.

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>>39708

This. Report for duty, maggot!

>>39565
Go to the beach

>Go to the beach

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>OOC: Apologies as power got cut in my neighbourhood the last several hours.

You decide not to waste any time and head straight to the beach. As you walk down the sector towards the sea, you take in the sight of the people of the town clamoring. You see a great deal of them in dirty, mussed clothing. A lot of them, but not all of them, are yelling; about what you don't know or have a curiosity for at the moment. You see a few schoolgirls clad in their uniform running around with crates like lightning, disappearing into tents and coming out like they were in one of those old cartoons.

'Come on! Come on!' You hear their high-pitched cries as they shuffle - almost comically - past the crowds and from one side of the camp lane to the other.

Shaking your head in amusement, you make your way past the now-growing concentration of people. As you make your way past them, some of them spare you a glance - mostly at your prosthetic. Even for a town like this, the bustle crudely reminds you of the inner cities, but the smell of the ocean was more prevalent. Your experience in the recruitment tryouts some time ago had given you a feel of the town, but with the chaos of the aftermath... it now painted a more brutal picture.

'Mother's not coming back! We're all we've got, dammit!'

'How could they tell use we're fine after all that?'

'Did you see what they brought back? They brought their war to us! Can't you see how obvious it is?'

You walk past the crowds and the tents. Volunteers in haggard and worn uniforms try to do their best to placate people, but the concentration of the population - or what was left of it - meant their work was cut out for them. You walk down a small flight of stairs onto the beach - there are still tents here and there, but most of them are open-air and littered with crates and cases and nets. The surf was calm and the sun bright, and no sign of the Abyssals meant that it was at least...

No. Even a coward wouldn't be relinquished of his fear. Not after all that.

'Sorry, Mister, but you have to wait your turn.'

You drop back to reality to see a boy - barely a teenager - raising his hands at you to stop in your tracks. You do so and see that there is a line in front of you heading to the largest tent on the beach. There are at a dozen in front of you, and you sigh, taking a step back.

To your right, you see two girls, obvious KanMusu by their rigging, walking on the surf, carrying small guns, both of them clad in black and white right past the open-aired tent closest to you. Further down in an open-air tent was a solemn-looking young girl wrapped in a blanket. She was blonde and rather tan, and had a weird pair of headbands that looked like an attempt to parody rabbit ears.

'LOOK, YOU THINK WE PLANNED ON THIS?!' It was a woman's voice. Akashi's words come back.

You take a step forward.

Only to find the boy stepping right in front of you.

'Sir, you'll have to wait your turn.'

>Produce your tag
>Intimidate him
>Persuade him

>>40469
>Produce your tag

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>>40469
>Produce your tag

>>40469
Do we actually need to cut in front of these people?

>>40540
You're reporting for assignment, not procuring her for services. I may have made a mistake in not elaborating that those in front of you are people of the village making use of the service, not directly reporting. Sorry for that.

>>40594
Ah, alright.

>>40469
>Produce your tag
Lets say we were asked to report to Quartermaster so we could help out. It shouldn't take long.

>>40469

>Produce your tags

>>40469
>Produce your tag

I'm CIA

>Produce your tag

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You take your tag and wave it at the boy. Evidently, he recognizes it, as he moves out of the way without another word and you walk towards the tent. As you walk past the line of disgruntled and somber citizens of the town, the yells of an argument grow louder and louder. You don't drag your feet on the sand, quickening the pace to, for now, mostly sate your curiosity.

'I don't think you would be competent enough - ANY OF YOU! The whole human race puts its faith in you to defend us and this is how you repay it?! Back in my day, we were VIGILANT! PREPARED! Not a bunch of ninnies who pat themselves on the back and mooched!'

'I oughta slug you, shithead! You think you're the only one with problems?! You know just how many we lost protecting your sorry ass from that siege?!'

As you approach the tent, you see the woman - the Quartermaster - behind a table, angrily leaning forward. Indeed, she was the loudest one there... and the least dressed, not that anyone was paying any attention to the bikini she was sporting. If that could be remotely called one, in any case. She looks the livid red, an avatar of anger not biting her tongue come rain, sun or hail. From the voice, you could instantly tell she was the rambunctious sort. She had dark hair... but what catches your attention are two ear-like protrusions to either side of her head, with purple lights glowing in the shade of the tent. You see she wears an eyepatch - but not one of typical make, if the plastic-like covering is anything to go by. She slams her hand onto the table, probably hoping to end the argument then and there.

Bad enough for her that the well-built, balding man that seems to be opposite her shares the same attribute of aggression. You see his tank-topped self pocked with bandages and cotton - his clothes are torn here and there, and you can see the faint leftover stain of blood upon his cargo pants, which are also worse for wear.

'Obviously not enough! If THIS is what you consider protecting! We lost more than you could ever HOPE to have!'

'Why, you - ! Don't you try that here!'

She raises her hand, pointing it to the large man's nose. You're impressed by the notion; you wouldn't have dreamed to stand up to the goliath... who had probably half a foot on her. He lets out a roar and the line shuffles, clearly not wishing to be caught in the crossfire between him and the Quartermaster. You see him smash a fist onto the table, eyes red and teeth grit.

'We're the PEOPLE, dammit! Are you gonna just let us get caught in the crossfire AGAIN?!'

'You think we're trying to throw you to the wolves here, ya dick?!' She has definitely lost her temper... if she ever was able to hold it.

'We're only asking to take us inland! You guys so jocked up you can't spare a transport or two?'

Behind you, people begin to talk.

'There're no transports inland anymore?'

'We're stuck here?'

You shift uncomfortably.

>Interrupt the argument
>Play diplomat
>End it aggressively
>Stay back and watch

>>40943
>Play diplomat
What can go wrong?

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>>40943
>play diplomat

>>40943
>>Play diplomat

>>40943

>Play diplomat

Because why the hell not?

>>40943
>Stay back and watch
That's not our fight, and there's nothing we could do to stop it that wouldn't direct the anger at us.

>>40943
>Interrupt the argument
They're making 0 progress, and we're wasting time we could use to help them both.

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'Excuse me, sir; ma'am.'

Your voice somehow reaches them over their anger, and suddenly you feel the full weight of two gazes upon you, ablaze with annoyance along with a pair of bared teeth. You see the very real glow of the Quartermaster's single eye rounding on you and you wonder if you're overstepping a line somewhere. In the next instant you conclude that whatever line it was, it was probably gone when you took your first breath coming into this world.

'With the place as it is... I don't think it'd be wise for the both of you to keep doing this when the whole town needs help.' For a brief moment you wonder if the grown man is going to cook you or feed you to his dogs. However, you continue, 'Because whatever it is the both of you are spitting fire about... it's doing nothing to - !'

A fist grabs your shirt, pulling you off your feet for a second and up-close with the behemoth of a man. He definitely looks angry. He is very much enraged. Your legs, thankfully, are above the ground - so they do not give as he looks at you with that damaged face of his. You don't think you could handle the embarrassment.

'Butt out of this, you busybody!'

For some reason, you are able to stay the course.

'Look, I know you're not a bad guy. I know you're a victim. The same as her.' You nod towards the Quartermaster, who he has his back turned to. 'This is war. It's horrible. But if you won't believe her, then believe me when I say she's doing - they're all doing - the best they can for you. All of you. If there's one iota of truth that you really do think that they're not helping you - that they'd rather see you burn than raise a finger, you're welcome to knock me on my ass.'

You really hope he doesn't.

'But if you believe that we're all in the same boat, sir and that we're all hurting just as bad as you are... I humbly request you...'

You try to grin, as pathetic as it is.

'To stop with the ruckus?'

'What the Hell do you know?' he pulls and glares at you and you worry for your bladder. You open your mouth to say something, but find yourself tossed onto the sand - he had let you go, and the line made itself into a crowd, curiously gazing at the both of you.

'That she definitely is doing her best... and she'll get to you eventually. That's all.' You feel a new hole on the collar of your fatigues. 'They all are. Believe that if there's one thing you want to believe from me.'

The man spits by your foot, giving you one last glare before going back to the Quartermaster.

'I'll be back,' you hear him hiss as he goes out of your sight, past the crowds.

You don't know how long you're on the sand, but it's enough for the Quartermaster to approach you, smiling and offering a hand for you, which you gladly take to get yourself to your feet. The crowd disperses to form the line again, and you see some people squabbling over the order.

'Thanks for that,' she says.

>'You're welcome'
>Introduce yourself formally
>Introduce yourself casually

>>41222
>Introduce yourself casually
Hooray for having interpersonal skills apparently.

>>41222

>Introduce yourself formally

>>41222
>Introduce yourself casually

>>41222
>Introduce yourself casually

>>41222
Well, that could have gone worse. Hopefully he's not popular in town.

>Introduce yourself casually

>>41222
>Introduce yourself formally
That went well. We'll probably regret it later, but for now it's fine.

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'I'm just glad he didn't feed me to his dogs.' You joke and smile, hoping to find some cheer even in all this.

'That'd be a Hell of a treat. You've probably got enough packing to feed them for a year.' She jibes, backhanding your bare belly, which had revealed yourself when your shirt had been grabbed. You sheepishly cover yourself as her toothy grin grows wider and she leans to sit on the table, 'kidding.'

'Oh, um...' You stumble pulling out your tag, showing it to her, 'Akashi-san told me to report to you, Miss - !'

'Tenryuu!' She introduces herself cheerfully, 'And don't - Oh, you're THAT guy!' She slaps her hands together, her one eye clouded in glee... cocking her head to her left as if to confirm something, 'That means you're the one with the - !'

She lets out a high-pitched cry of joy.

'Hot damn!' She whistles. 'Akashi really put her passion in her work, huh? Mind if I have a look?'

You feel a tug as this hyper-active officer of the military grabs your arm and glosses over it like it was some rare and expensive birthday present. You feel red in your cheeks as the line makes itself into a crowd to look over at the strange occurrence.

'I've seen these babies before on other guys, but to be able to hold one?' She positively fawns over it, letting out a delighted yelp. 'Man, you must have hit the lottery for them to put be able to put KanMusu tech on you without a hitch!'

'I think there were some hitches...'

She finally releases your arm, but doesn't quite take her eye off it.

'Yeah, but you're living to talk about them, right? Hang on.' She whistles loudly... specifically, to the blonde girl under the nearby tent you had seen before. 'Yo, Zekamashi, I need to do a briefing and assignment. Take over for me for a bit, eh?'

You make out an enthusiastic nod and with a quick dash, the girl is by Tenryuu's side.

'Atta girl.' Tenryuu pats her on the back as she scuttles in that large blanket behind the table and the line continues... but not without people giving you suspicious looks. Tenryuu picks up a folder from the table, motioning for you to follow her. The both of you walk by a stretch of beach uninhabited by the tents, savoring the surf.

'I'm in charge of task assignment for you guys - humans, volunteers.' She begins, opening up the folder and handing you a form. 'The Admiral himself signed off on taking responsibility for this town, but, well... it's going as well as it's been. We got a lot of people to feed and shelter, but we're kind of behind on the polls, like with that guy...'

It's the cadet form from your initial application, only this time it's clipped on with other attachments.

'A lot of the staff were killed or abducted in the assault...' she continues softly, 'quite a bit of us, too. The Admiralty's got their hands full... and we're not fighting fit either.'

>'What's with the swimsuit?'
>'Just what is it that you need me for?'
>'Where's the Admiral?
>'How bad was the attack?'

>>41633

>How bad was the attack?

>>41633
>'What's with the swimsuit?'
>'Just what is it that you need me for?'

>>41633
>Maybe I can help on collecting these people grievances, so they can go and try to rebuild instead of waiting in queue?

>>41633
>'How bad was the attack?'

>'How bad was the attack?'

>>41633
>'Just what is it that you need me for?'

http://imgur.com/a/yD3Tv

If you haven't seen them already somehow, here's the girls released in the latest event.

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>>42108
>Damaged Iowa not giving a fuck.

This pleases me.

>>41633
>>'How bad was the attack?'

>>40943
>>41633

Tenryuu is best

Dead quest?

>>45213
Look at the time between OP posts. This quest just runs at a slow pace. Patience is a virtue.

The only thing I'm mad at in regards to this quest is Tenryuu in her bikini outfit. I didn't ask for boners this early into the quest dammit.

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>>45465
It's too late man. It was always too late

>>45487
Anon please. I can't take my favorite ship being this way.

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>>45465
When will Tenryuu burn off that fat and get the abs back?

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>>45495
>can't take my favorite ship being this way
Being what way? Muscled, in a bikini, angry?

>>45526
I don't mind the fat. I mean, she isn't a landwhale at least.
>>45531
The bikini. I mean, at least not now when I'm trying to avoid a funny feeling in my pants. She's cute when she's angry

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>>45618
>cute
I think you mean badass

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>>45618

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>>45618
Also, you're opinion on her as a momboat?

Jesus fucking Christ this is becoming another /a/ thread

>>45759
Slowly degenerating into Tenryuu thread

>>45723
Those two things aren't mutually exclusive
>>45759
She's great as a momboat. I won't go any further, I'm not trying to make it in an /a/ thread. We can instead speak of things related to the quest.

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>>45723
Tenryuu wants to be bad ass but her stats won't let her.

>>45924
Is she low tier? I've never played it but is she not as good as she deserves to be?

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>>45924
What she needs is a bullshit magical remodel.

Or continue with the theme of 'wants to be badass, acts like a badass, but cannot be THAT badass no matter what'

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>>45979
Her stats only make her good for leading expeditions, like the squadron leader she was IRL designed to be. This is the origin of her being the leader and babysitter of DesDiv6.

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>>45979
Tenryuu and Tatsuta are the worst CLs in the game, at least when it comes to combat. They're perfect options for the resource gathering expeditions though, since they also have the lowest resource consumption of any CLs in the game.

>>45981
I recall hearing the devs said they won't do it for some reason or another.

>>46034
>>46049
>coolest looking boat isn't on the front lines
why though

She looks so sad in >>46034 that image.

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>>46128
She's just tired from a day's work

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>>46125
proofs tovarish ))))))))
>>46128
There's nothing preventing you from using her, she's just not that good as other ships.

>>46128
Well if her stats were better...

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>>46128
>why though
Because she's old, commissioned in 1919, and we all know just how damn fast technology progresses.

>>46232
The only proof I can recall is some old tweet that is probably buried deep within the twitter of the kancolle team

>>46236
RetroFIT her. Tune up her engines.Clean her fins. We have the technology, so why not make her great again?

>>46128
She's more of an oversized destroyer than a cruiser. The light cruisers that came after her and Tastuta displace at least 1500 tons more, and carry almost twice as many guns.

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>>46236
I'd say that she's better in game than she was historically. She has the same firepower (59) and Torpedo (79) stats as most CLs in the game. Her main drawback is the lack of ability to carry planes.

She is, just like real life, basically a large destroyer.

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>>46286
That's up to fanfiction authors. The remodels in-game are based on real refits the ships got, or hypothetical refits that they could have gotten.

>>46330
>lack of ability to carry planes
Weren't designs that were 'Aviation+(Ship)' usually bad and useless compared to making more carriers?

I get that Japan was getting desperate and trying to field as many planes as possible, and couldn't make up for America's carrier spam, but didn't allowing ships to launch a floatplane prove useless except for recon?

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>>46386
It's a plane for scouting and spotting. This was standard on many ships.

>>46386
>didn't allowing ships to launch a floatplane prove useless except for recon?
For the Japanese, recon was the whole point of the floatplanes until Midway. Their air doctrine was so rigid that they refused to use carrier-based fighters and bombers for scouting.

Of course, the USN cruisers and battleships also carried floatplanes for recon.

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>>46341
>tfw when the boat you like isn't what she seems like she should be

Feels bad. she doesn't deserve babysitter duty.

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>>46481
I like her being the babysitter. It's at least more fleshed out than just 'eyepatch-wearing badass swordsman', a job that Kiso already excels at

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>>46481
Or quartermaster duty?

>>46521
I like to imagine that Tenryuu does both.

>>46521
This is true, I suppose. But I'd still like her to have been a badass at some point than get put to team mom.

Just seems a waste of a character design to either have her strive to be badass and never be it, or strictly only pretending.

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>>46551
>team mom

>>46521
>Tries constantly to be a badass
>Really just a normie with boring responsibilities

Sounds like a pretty realistic character actually.

>>45526
What's under the eyepatch?

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>>46852
It is a mystery.

Probably just a damaged eye, like Kiso.

>>46551
To be fair, the real ship is actually kinda badass. Helped sink cruisers and the like, survived multiple air attacks unscathed, and took a bomb from a B-17 without severe damage.

So she's not an utter badass, but she's got something going on.

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>>46852

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>>46852
Probably the searchlight that got shot out at the Battle of Savo Island.

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>>46902
Searchlight eyes always amuse me. It's like an asking someone "Hey, blind me!"

>>46902
You know, when I first read about the battle of Savo Island, I misread it as Salvo Island and thought it was the coolest sounding battle in naval history.

>>47049
I did the exact same thing.

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>>42108
>>42133
>THREE O'CLOCK. HEY, Yamato! Let's fight for real now! In exercises, of course. Okay?
>IT'S SIX O'CLOCK. ADMIRAL, where'll we go for dinner? Oh! Yamato? Sounds fun! Let's go!
>SEVEN O'CLOCK. YA-MA-TO, thanks for inviting us to dinner. Let's start our Yamato Hotel dinner then.
>EIGHT O'CLOCK. Yamato Hotel's dinner's great! Huh? But I'm praising you... Yamato, WHY?
>NINE O'CLOCK. Ah, so that's what it was. What're you saying, Yamato? You're a great battleship, you know. And beautiful, too.

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'Just... how bad was the attack?' You correct yourself, 'The extent and severity of the damage... I mean.'

Tatsuta rubs the back of her head, looking troubled. You wonder if you ask the right question for a while, as she puts her hands to her sides, looking to the sea.

'More than half of us are gone.' She says with a distant melancholy. 'Either buried at sea... or taken. They came at us when we were at our most vulnerable... right after we thought we kicked their butts far and wide.'

Tenryuu doesn't look at you - you see her one eye fixated on the horizon, and you wonder if her mind is all there in the now.

'It was in the evening... and we should... should've known that something was up.' She rubs the back of her head again, as if to scrub out an itch. You feel a change in tone in her voice, one of frustration and disbelief, 'We pushed them back a few days before the attack. Badly. the Admiralty was throwing a stinkin' pyjama party on it. You saw all those posters?'

'Yeah.' You reply, rubbing your shoulder. You feel a bit uncomfortable with that particular topic.

'Able citizens, join the fight! 'Be alongside our Ship Girls and end the Menace!'

She laughs bitterly.

'We actually thought we'd be able to change things. For once we didn't just protect a line; we pushed it back up their sorry asses. We thought we actually had something this time...'

You see Tenryuu pick up a shell, throwing it out to the sea; turning back your attention to her, you see a faraway look in her eye.

'They hit us with a God-damned battering ram.' She spat out, smashing a fist into the wet sand. It now seemed that... she wasn't talking just to you. 'It was a massacre. I'd never seen them out of the water before... we were about to talk about dinner - a lot of us wanted to go for a night on the town and take a break... but the Admiral wanted us on duty - in case the Admiralty wanted us to do anything. We were happy, I mean... we were able to knock them out of the ball park this time... and we were thinking... maybe the next attack... it'd be for good.'

She raises herself back to a stand, rubbing her knuckles.

'We never could have seen it coming. All sides, sea-to-air. They didn't just blow the side off the town, they've cut us off from our advance. Whatever Shipgirls were out at sea, even from the other bases... we've effectively lost them.' Her tone drops back to neutrality. 'Supplies are scarce and we're barely managing with what we have - a lot of the township's gone to shit. We got problems with food, shelter, reconstruction, if we can afford it... and the Admiralty's not helping us until everywhere else is settled.

'According to them, we got off lightly.' She lets out a click of her tongue. 'Admiral's doing the best he can... but right now, he's only one guy.' 'And we got some people to help, but...'

She smiles.

'Yeah, we're in a bad state.'

>'What's with the swimsuit?'
>'Just what is it that you need me for?'
>'Where's the admiral?'
>'You all right?'

>>47863
>'You all right?'
followed by
>What's with the swimsuit?

>>47863
>'Just what is it that you need me for?'
>'Where's the admiral?'

>>47863
>'Just what is it that you need me for?'

>>47863
>'You all right?'