#anzacspirits

[abyssalspace]

A Humble Life

@anzacspirits

It had been five years. Five long years since DD-602, UNSC Volokolamsk N.Z.C. had been decommissioned, once and for all. She had since done some exploring, seeing much of the world through her own eyes, before settling down on a farm in the village of her former namesake and finding a name and a purpose of her own. A purpose besides war. A purpose besides space.

Luba Illyovich looked out on her freshly-reaped fields for a long moment before breathing a hefty lungful of frozen morning air, zipping up her tracksuit, and getting into her car, setting off for Moscow. She had a very important task.

It had been five years since Luba had seen any of her former comrades as well, and though the spirit of the ship she once was had passed on, the bonds she crafted did not. After five long years, she finally got back in contact with her closest shipmate from the old days and invited her over for a stay to catch up and bask in the rewards of a good harvest.

It was there, waiting for the former frigate Trench Café in Vnukovo International Airport, that the short, rugged Russian girl spotted a very interesting character. A silver-haired woman, clearly out of her element, stood nearby, sporting a military surplus coat with New Zealand patches on the sleeves; by God was she tall, too. Seeing as she hadn’t heard word from Café yet on an arrival, how better to burn some time than by stretching her social legs again and flirting. Walking over casually and giving the as of yet oblivious woman an eye-over, Luba cleared her throat, broaching conversation in English, just in case this was an honest-to-god kiwi.

“Privyet, friend. You look new to these parts. I’m waiting on someone and have some time to kill; would it be too much trouble for me to kill it with a lovely lady?” The suave gopnik leaned against a nearby wall, spitting a sunflower shell into an empty cup that may have once had a drink in it.

[abyssal-shenanigans]

A Fort Reborn on a Winter’s Morn

"There's just one thing that grieves my mind!  Heave away, haul away!  That's leavin' Nancy Blair behind!  We're bound for South Australia! 

Haul Away you rollin' kings!  Heave away, haul away!  All the way you'll hear me sing  We're bound for South Australia!" 

The Admiral’s eye twitched as he stared into space, yet again fighting down the urge to leap overboard from the small patrol boat that was keeping pace with his ebullient escort. Now he knew why Batavia had refused to accompany them to the meeting with the newly rehabilitated Fort Drum. Paris had been singing shanties since the moment they left, interweaving one into the next as if they were a single, endless seafarer’s ditty. While Jones knew they could not have been traveling more than a few hours, it felt like an eternity. Mercifully, something finally caught Paris’ attention enough to bring about an end to her seemingly ceaseless singing: Corregidor.

The pirate covered her mouth upon finally seeing the spread on Corregidor, one of her fairies taking up the lead in her voice's absence. In the rising sun, Fort Drum looked truly magnificent; almost enough to bring a tear to her eye. 

"Vraiment magnifique... aussi radieuse que le soleil lui-même. Corregidor awaits, Monsieur Admiral. I shall guide us in." 

Jones nodded, straightening his cap as he took in the sight of their destination. Bathed as it was in the shimmering light of dawn, it truly was something to behold. He just hoped that their imminent meeting with the former Manila Princess would be as serene and peaceful as the vista laid out before him. He had no reason to doubt Paris, but that did not stop him from preparing for the worst... even as he hoped for the best.

@anzacspirits

[electricboatss-315]

Down at the Stagedoor Canteen

The attacks in the Tasman Sea were swift and painful, the cleanup and counterstrikes took what felt like an eternity. Sealion came in to take an advisory role and then found himself on the front lines until more submarines could arrive to make up a proper squadron. Not since Scapa had he come so close to dealing with the Abyssal, and he sure as hell didn’t miss it. However when the announcement came that the menace was finally cleared, the populace were so elated it made VJ Day in Time Square look like a middle school dance.

Sealion himself was sitting in one of the bars, clad in his dress whites trying to celebrate the victory but the loss of many hung over his head. A drink in his hand, he tried to recall everything that happened. Not realizing that the stool next to him had a new occupant. “Here’s to winning a new fight, god forbid there be more...” Down the drink went.

[thescharnhorsts]

Deception and Desperation

@anzacspirits

With Operation Backfoot on the falling action, the Svalbard Battleship Princess had pulled herself away from the blockades at Murmansk and Arkhangelsk to get back to her new priority number one: her sister. The verbal defeat still stung, and her information on her sister’s disposition was clearly outdated. Infiltrating Scapa was no hard thing for her now, as she was now registered in the books as HNoMS Bjørnøya, and with her falsified military ID could stroll right through the front gate, nary a care in the world. It was still possible to be noticed by anyone more than a little perceptive (or paranoid), so she still kept to the shadows, moving through the base like a spectre, quickly, quietly, and almost undetectable.

Keyword being almost; in her haste, the battleship regent failed to properly check a corner, and turned it right into the line of sight of possibly one of the most valuable and high-risk (for her) personnel on base. Acting natural, she merely walked past without a greeting.

[kantainofunallowed]

Missouri was lent a television and a radio by her captors. The earl was generous, and would allow her to keep up on the day to day news of the world. So she was tuned to the news one day when the attack at Auckland came. Missouri knew instantly who was the one sailing into the harbor, but she didn’t believe what happened next.

The girl wept for several minutes in grief, knowing exactly how and why the Royal New Zealand Navy was almost entirely wiped out in minutes.

[abyssalspace]

@anzacspirits

Another day, another meal, another bout of bullshit in the kitchen. Volokolamsk hardly had the energy to yell at her kitchen staff, simply making forceful corrections wherever necessary. Lunch was soon upon the Philomel, and it was the destroyer’s turn on the serving line.

“Sorry, lad. No pelmeni today. Ask logistics why we’re out of minced meat, not me.” A truly shameful state of affairs; no slav worth their kvass would be out of pelmen, yet there simply wasn’t enough left and no ground meat to make more. Next serving was a girl smaller than even Café and looking just about as in the dumps as Volley was.

“What’ll it be? We have grilled fish or leftover plov from dinner. I know the menu said pelmeni and sour cream, but someone didn’t order enough minced meat.”

[abyssal-shenanigans]

Workers of the World, Unite!

[Translated from Russian]

“Comrades, lend me your ears! For decades, I watched from beneath the waves as the fear of nuclear weapons and of foreign ideologies divided the world in two, and bore witness to the suffering it brought forth upon the children of an entire generation. We are now once more faced with a nuclear threat, and it falls to us to decide, as peoples and nations, what sort of world that we will allow our children to grow up in. Fear has driven many to say that we should not risk ourselves aiding others, when our own borders lay under siege. I say to you: nay! We must not allow the terror of the atomic age to once again drive us apart! We must stand firm! We must unite! With a single, bellowing voice, from the mouths of every man, woman, and child on this Earth, we shall shout our answer so loudly that our enemies will hear us even in the wretched darkness of the Abyss from which they crawled: AS ONE, WE STAND TOGETHER! AS ONE, WE WILL DEFY YOU! AND AS ONE, WE WILL DEFEAT YOU!”

“Join with me comrades, countrymen, and workers of the world, so that we may build a better future for those alive today, and those to be born tomorrow! And the first step to proving to our foe that they cannot use fear to divide us, is by coming together to aid those who have most suffered at the hands of their despicable cowardice. The survivors of Auckland and the people of New Zealand have been dealt a terrible blow. It is time we extend our hand to them, and help pull them back proudly to their feet, that they may stand with us against our common foe! The reach of Mother Russia is vast, her strength without limit, and it is we, her children, who give her that strength! Let us help her extend it to those most in need, and lead the world in uniting against the Abyss! Food, water, clothes, blankets, even money - whatever you can spare, I beseech you to give, so that the children of New Zealand will not want for warmth, food, or shelter. For it is a measure of our character as a nation not how we treat our friends in times of prosperity and peace, but in times of conflict and deprivation. Help me show that Russia is a true friend to her allies, that others may follow our example. Workers of the world, unite!”

[electricboatss-315]

ATTENTION ON DECK!

All Kancolle/Azur Lane rpers in the world, let it be down that on December 17th 2018 we will all write the steamiest of smut roleplays! We will make tumblr so dirty that bleach will not clean it!