The Grail Works Mission Dossier (Discussion & Ideas)

[Arbitrarity]

I
Also, my apologies - I've fixed the image of Jamie in-costume so that it both works, and is at a visible size - I thought I'd avoided that, this time.

I had some trouble with the trailing /, but it was easier to work out. Caching is the devil sometimes.

And reasonable, which is always nice . . . Ironically, though, this makes Halloween the most challenging of the "Big Three" of slasher franchises. After all, Friday the 13th's Jason Voorhes is (usually) a revenant of some form, meaning the supernatural definitely exists - and depending on how one accepts the canonicity of the Evil Dead franchise's "Necronomicon Ex Mortis" being present in Jason's cave/shrine, it's a lot more prevalent than in Halloween. Even without that, there's the Freddy vs. Jason film (and the scene in "The Final Friday" where Freddy's glove drags Jason's mask away), and the Elm Street series is absolutely supernatural . . .

(And amusingly, the least threatening of the three - at least, to Godafrid. Given the anti-spirit Charms available to him, he can literally eat Krueger and/or his "dream demon" patrons. )

As in mechanical challenge? Valid. "mana-deprived" reminds me a lot of some of the Prisma Ilya lore, or the Extra-verse incident.

You managed to follow it better than I did, I must admit.

Might not work as well depending on screen width. It could be combined with some other formatting (italics, different font, colour) to make it more visually distinct, but at the width I was reading at, it was pretty easy to track.

Monospace fonts, for example, have a nicely mechanical feel

[Kieran]

I had some trouble with the trailing /, but it was easier to work out. Caching is the devil sometimes.

I firmly maintain that "tech" is a four-letter word for a reason.

As in mechanical challenge? Valid.

Quite.

"mana-deprived" reminds me a lot of some of the Prisma Ilya lore, or the Extra-verse incident.

*Nods* And the more I learn about Rin as a "Spiritron Hacker," the more tempted I am to find a way to get her here - because her talents (and familiarity with computers) would be so useful . . .

Might not work as well depending on screen width. It could be combined with some other formatting (italics, different font, colour) to make it more visually distinct, but at the width I was reading at, it was pretty easy to track.

Monospace fonts, for example, have a nicely mechanical feel

. . . True enough.

[Kieran]

Continuing . . .




Haddonfield, Illinois
October 31, 1988








Never mind the human cost—Rin could not remember the last time she felt so thoroughly outraged on a professional level.

“These people make Emiya-kun look like a genius . . .” she growled.

No, that wasn’t sufficient insult to them, because Shirou was a savant, of sorts, and actually could pull miracles of magecraft out of his ass. Completely by accident of circumstances, but he could do it. These people blundered about, and appeared to have stumbled on something which not only worked by accident, like Shirou, but which should not work at all . . . But it was more than that which roused her ire.

Frid-san had described it as “Hollywood magic,” which he defined as, “It doesn’t matter if it makes sense, so long as it does what the plot requires it to.” And Rin could certainly acknowledge that as being the operating principle here—but that just made it worse. Because it meant that for all that this world had next to zero mana to work with, the limitations on using it were defined likewise.

There are no rules in place to stop them, aside from needing the time to build up the energy to do it—they could’ve accomplished anything, ANYTHING! And this is what they chose to do with it: a nonsensical ritual that they half-assed as it was . . .!

After all, according to Frid, it was regulated by an annual stellar phenomenon, and yet years went by without the ritual being performed; more than once, as much as a decade. If the “prosperity of the tribe” that the blood sacrifice of a family was supposed to ensure actually mattered, this “Cult of Thorn” should’ve performed it annually—otherwise, the ritual had failed ages ago.

There was no point to any of this—and that possibly irked Rin most of all. As such, she took distinct pleasure in tearing down the kludged-together workings the cult had managed to establish, with prejudice.

Of course, she also made a point of ransacking the place for supplies while she was at it—personal satisfaction might account for a lot in this enterprise, but there was no reason not to profit off it as best they could, given their expenditures. And while there wasn’t really anything of value from a magus’ perspective, the cult’s base of operations was a mental hospital—medical supplies and petty cash (especially including from the cultists’ own wallets, as a justified “evil IDIOT tax”) were things that they could find a use for . . .








“It’s him,” Samuel Loomis said grimly.

“You’re sure, this time?” Sheriff Meeker asked testily.

The aging doctor grimaced. He felt badly for pulling his gun on those teenagers dressed as Michael, but he would not apologise for his reaction. After a quarter-century of experience with it, including direct confrontations, he knew that there were no second chances with Michael Myers. And the burn scars on his own face reminded him every day of exactly how hard it was to kill . . .

“I spent ten years watching him in that hospital bed,” Loomis answered. “Waiting for the day when he would wake, and begin again . . . I know every line of every scar, by now—run the fingerprints and dental records if you like, but yes, I’m sure.”

The sheriff shook his head. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved—but that just makes me more worried about where the guy who did this went.”

“I’m more relieved that he left,” Loomis said dryly.

“You don’t think a guy who tore another man’s head off is dangerous?”

“He’s absolutely dangerous,” the doctor countered. “But Michael Myers survived six bullets and a two-storey fall, only to get up and kill ten more people. An explosion that destroyed a hospital operating room and most of the connecting corridor ‘only’ put him in a coma for ten years—until last night, when he got up and began killing again with no sign of atrophy or ill effect. From there, he created six bodies on his way to Haddonfield, and not an hour ago, tore his way through your police station—and all its armed officers—without any apparent difficulties.

“Michael Myers did all of that—and that man weathered everything Michael could do to him before literally handing him his head,” Loomis finished. He gave the sheriff a look. “I consider us both very lucky he didn’t decide to take offense to your attempt to hold him at gunpoint.”

The sheriff reddened (though whether out of embarrassment or anger, the doctor wasn’t sure) as he protested feebly, “All right, but—where did he go? I looked away for a second, and—”

Loomis’ focus had been on the body, so he couldn’t say with certainty, either. In his defence, after a quarter-century of exposure to the evil that was Michael Myers, he’d been almost convinced it couldn’t be killed . . .

“Evil doesn’t die like a man does,” the preacher who’d given him a lift to Haddonfield had said, which Loomis had silently agreed with. Perhaps, then, it took something more than a man to kill it . . .?

“Perhaps,” Loomis said, pondering aloud, “if such a force of evil as Michael Myers can exist, there can be similar forces of good . . .?”

“You consider that good?” Meeker protested, pointing at the violence done to the body—and the street in general, really.

“Read the Bible more closely, Sheriff,” Loomis said with dark humour. “Angels can be just as terrifying as demons—they announce themselves by saying, ‘be not afraid . . .’”








Avalon Castle, Phantasmagoria Island (Grail Works. Ltd. Headquarters)
Beyond the boundaries of time and space








“How is he?” Shirou asked.

“Better, now that he’s in a place where he can actually regain his energies,” Ilya reported. “Still hurting, but he’s gone into that hibernation state of his—and I was told not to bother him for the next two days.”

Shirou did the math: that was about a month’s worth of healing—and on the “Exalt” scale, which was faster than human anyways . . .

“It was that bad?” Shirou exclaimed.

“As crippled as he was by needing to manage his reserves, it was a lot more equal than any of us would’ve liked,” Ilya acknowledged.

And while he had far more “Health Levels” than any human ever could, the downside was, he generally healed at a fixed rate; the ability to take more punishment, therefore, meant recovery time was equally increased.

“He did ask me to thank Rin for undoing the cult’s workings when she did,” she continued, “whether or not Myers got anything from them—”

(And that was a debate; with the nebulousness of how much influence the “curse” actually had and what forms that influence took, not to mention how much it could be applied retroactively, since the curse was never explained until the sixth movie, and the mark itself wouldn’t appear, in-universe, until the movie after the one they’d intervened in . . . But that was for the magi and intellectuals of the Works to debate, of which Shirou really wasn’t.)

“It was good to cut off that potential source of trouble, just the same,” she finished.

“What kind of trouble?” Rin said suspiciously. “Because you make it sound like more than just making him stronger and harder to kill permanently.”

Ilya hesitated, sighed, then said resignedly. “According to Frid-san, the end of that particular movie has Jamie possessed by her uncle’s evil, to carry on his legacy—and while that’s apparently undone for the next, one of the two versions of the movie after that has the curse pass on to his doct—Rin, where are you going?”

“To get drunk enough that this lunacy either makes sense, or I stop thinking about it,” she snapped from the doorway, one hand at her temples. “I’ll probably pass out first, but that will work, too . . .”

“But you don’t drink,” Shirou protested lamely, adding a little more strongly. “And you shouldn’t!”

“I’m going to start if I have to keep dealing with this kind of nonsense!” Rin shot back.

“Anyways,” Ilya said loudly, interrupting the brewing argument with her usual cheeriness, “it doesn’t matter because the killer is dead, the little girl is fine, and everyone here will be, so we can count it as a job well done, right? Right!”

When she checked in on Jamie’s future two days later, at Frid’s request, Ilya would deeply regret her optimism . . .








Haddonfield, Illinois
May 31, 1990








“You want to take in another foster child?”

Jamie tried not to feel hurt at the surprise in Rachel’s tone—it was a shock to her, too, after all.

“Well, dear, we can certainly afford it,” her mother countered. “And you’re off to college in the fall, so we’ll have the room—and this poor boy’s case . . .” She glanced at the ten-year-old, her expression a bit guilty. “Well, he reminds me of Jamie, in a way—a lot of negative attention for something that can’t possibly be his fault.”

Like having the Boogeyman for an uncle, Jamie finished in her head. Not that it was a problem anymore. Doctor Loomis had invited her to watch the body of her uncle burn, after all, and she had a stuffed owl to sleep with, now (owls were very good luck, she’d decided) . . .

She had no more tea party dreams, but no more nightmares, either.

“Oh?” Rachel said warily.

“It’s old news now, but the poor boy was at the centre of a lot of deaths a couple of years ago. Deaths that the police are blaming on his mother, or himself, even though he was only six at the time—and the papers made a circus out of the fact that he claimed his doll did it . . .”









Writer's Notes: In the film Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers, Jamie inadvertently breaks a mirror during a "jump-scare" moment - and in the novelisation, one character points out that it's "seven years' bad luck" - which, funnily enough, ends up being true, since the movie takes place in 1988, and she's killed in 1995 (after being traumatised and imprisoned in the intervening years).

So, what if, despite Michael Myers' absence, she continues to be slasher bait . . .? And Universal did own/distribute Halloween at one point, as they do with the Child's Play franchise, barring the original movie . . .

(Sadly, 1989 was a poor year for slasher choices; she's too young to be a target in A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child, and there's no logical way to get her family on the boat for Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan - so for now, we skip a year, and go right to 1990. )

[Arbitrarity]

I appreciate Rin's frustration with the madness that is Hollywood "magic". How does it work? It just does. Are there underlying principles? No.

The sheriff and doctor are a good perspective to take for explaining the actual confrontation. The third-party perspective is always fun framing for pointing out things that other characters might ignore or overlook, and adds some nice variety.
Godafrid finally getting full value out of Ox-Body Technique. One of the neat things about White Wolf systems, unlike a lot of other RPG systems, it's not only the last hit point that matters.

Ah, that is Child's Play you're referencing at the end there. The "his doll did it" seemed quite familiar-sounding.

[Kieran]

I appreciate Rin's frustration with the madness that is Hollywood "magic". How does it work? It just does. Are there underlying principles? No.

Which is seriously frustrating for anyone who attempts to apply logic to it, much less thinks through some of the implications of its existence . . .

The sheriff and doctor are a good perspective to take for explaining the actual confrontation. The third-party perspective is always fun framing for pointing out things that other characters might ignore or overlook, and adds some nice variety.

Indeed it is - and both might serve very well as recurring characters (as indeed they are, though the latter more than the former), if this goes ahead.

Godafrid finally getting full value out of Ox-Body Technique. One of the neat things about White Wolf systems, unlike a lot of other RPG systems, it's not only the last hit point that matters.

Yes - and a distinct lack of "insta-heal" options can be quite aggravating, at times. Even the tricks he is using, while they accelerate things, aren't a complete fix; a month's healing at Exalt levels could only recover a few Health Levels . . . Or they could wipe everything clean and then some; he heals slower the more serious the injury is, so it all comes down to depending on the severity of his wounds.

Ah, that is Child's Play you're referencing at the end there. The "his doll did it" seemed quite familiar-sounding.

Indeed - and as the first movie takes place in the same year as Halloween 4, in Chicago, Illinois (as opposed to Haddonfield, Illinois), it seems like a natural crossover.

Heck, little Andy's moving here will have several benefits beyond just being a quieter environment for him, and relatively outside the media spotlight. His new foster sister not only has a similar background, but believes in impossible things like killer dolls (owls can become people who can kill the Boogeyman, so why not?). And there's a (relatively) nearby psychiatrist who just gained a surplus of time on his hands . . .

[Kieran]

Continuing . . .




Haddonfield, Illinois
October 14, 1990









Andy Barclay was a lot like her, Jamie deduced. For starters, they looked more like brother and sister than she and Rachel looked like sisters—brown hair, cut short, and big brown eyes, with a sad expression. She’d seen her own reflection enough, back when she first came to live with the Carruthers, to recognise the look on Andy’s face.

(At least your mommy’s alive . . .)

Jamie didn’t like having that thought—it was mean, and she didn’t want to be—but it bubbled up just the same. She loved Mrs. Carruthers, and Mr. Carruthers, and they loved her . . . But she still missed her mommy and daddy—and everybody said that was OK—so she was a little jealous that Andy could, someday, see his mommy again.

Jamie shook her head. She hadn’t slept well last night—no one had. Like her, when she’d first come to live here, Andy had nightmares, and woke the house with his screaming. That was probably why she was feeling mean—which she knew was bad. She was the older sister now; she should be like Rachel . . .

“It gets better, Andy,” she said quietly, smiling a little. Trying to look nice, rather than like she was teasing him. “It’s going to hurt for a long time—and being somewhere new is scary—but it gets better.”

Andy peered up from his cereal warily, visibly not quite sure how to take that.

“She’s not wrong, Andy,” Mrs. Carruthers said kindly, from her place at the stove. “Talking to Doctor Loomis will help, too.”

“Talking to doctors hasn’t yet,” the boy mumbled under his breath—too loud to be a whisper, but if Jamie hadn’t been sitting so close, she’d never have understood what he said. Mrs. Carruthers obviously didn’t, because she didn’t comment.

Jamie was torn. She wanted to help, but was it better to push, or not? She’d wanted desperately to belong somewhere, with her family gone—but in the first few weeks, at least, everything was too strange, too unfamiliar, to be comfortable. Even almost a year after, she’d been asking if Rachel loved her “like a real sister” . . .

(She did, she absolutely did—and Jamie loved her for it.)

Maybe after breakfast, outside of Mrs. Carruthers’ sight, she could try to reassure Andy. After all, Doctor Loomis was different: unlike any other doctor she knew, he believed in the Boogeyman, and he’d seen—well, whatever had actually been done to him. She’d run away, like she’d been told to.

(And she’d been safe, like she’d been promised . . .)

Jamie’s thoughts were paired with a focus on her cereal, and she suddenly realised Mrs. Carruthers was still talking.

“—a nap this afternoon,” she was suggesting. “It’ll make you feel better, after . . .”

“Maybe,” Andy mumbled. “Least in the daytime, that stupid owl won’t keep me awa—”

There was a clatter as Jamie’s spoon hit the floor.

“Owl?” she said, eyes wide.

“Jamie adores owls,” Mrs. Carruthers said in a teasing tone, with a smile on her face. “But pick up your spoon, put it in the dishwasher, get a clean one and finish your breakfast before you go bother the poor bird, dear.”

Jamie did, although she really didn’t want to—not that she wanted to be rude, or wasn’t hungry, but going to check out the trees around the house for an owl seemed really important, all of a sudden.

It might not be the same owl, but owls weren’t usually seen around here, and if it was that owl . . .

If it was that owl, then something scary was happening again. She was safe, and so was her family—Jamie was sure of that—but other people would probably get hurt or die. They had before.

Jamie had to know, one way or the other . . .








Avalon Castle, Phantasmagoria Island (Grail Works. Ltd. Headquarters)
Beyond the boundaries of time and space (but roughly six hours earlier, relatively speaking)









“FUCKING CHUCKY?!”

The volume of said exclamation was sufficient to rattle windows—in the next room.

“You know this one, too,” Ilya said flatly.

It wasn’t a question, and Frid ignored it anyways, going over to the nearest wall and beginning to bang his head against it.

“How”—thud—“HOW”—thud—"is”—thud—“her”—thud—“luck”—thud—"this”—thud—“BLOODY”—thud—“BAD?!”

“Walk me through it,” Ilya encouraged him. “Maybe we can find a reason for it.”

Head pressed against the wall in silence for a moment, Frid made a slight sound, like laughter, weeping, or whimpering—then, with a full-body sigh, he stood up, turned, and faced the Grail spirit.

“All right,” he said. “Understand, I’ve not seen most of the films in question; I caught part of the fourth and all of the fifth—much to my regret—and the first few episodes of the TV show. I’m running off of summaries, either from video guides, wiki articles, or YouTube videos which include clips.”

“I literally understood almost none of what you just said,” Ilya said blandly. “Films, yes, and there was TV on the flight over to Japan—but the rest . . .” She shook her head. “As always, I’ll assume you know what you’re talking about, even if you don’t—just give me facts, so I can start checking on them.”

“Can you do that, in a low-mana world?” Frid asked curiously. “Without one of us being there to act as a relay . . .?”

Ilya blinked, then scowled. “Just the summary for now, then.”

Frid took a deep breath.

“In 1988, serial killer Charles Lee Ray is cornered and shot dead by police—but not before performing a voodoo ritual that transfers his soul upon death to a ‘Good Guy’-brand toy doll, which is later given to a boy named Andy.”

“. . . I don’t remember that from that one movie you wrote about—was he the spaceman or the cowboy?”

“Wrong movie—and wrong Andy, I hope to God . . .” Frid sighed. “In any case, I know he frequently gets destroyed, and his reasons for resurrection vary, short of that stupid fucking chant—which he eventually gets a modified version of, in the latest batch of films, that lets him infect other vessels like a virus . . . But given that this is in Jamie’s lifetime, we’re probably not that far ahead.”

Ilya nodded. “For what it’s worth, that ability sounds similar to various mysteries used by the Einzberns, among others. Which means that we might be able to counter it, if it’s as far in the future as you say; after all, we know that magic can be worked there, under the right circumstances and given sufficient time to build up to it . . .”

Now it was Frid’s turn to nod, and he filed it away for later. Though thinking aloud, he pointed out, “There might be a weak point in the power he’s invoking; I don’t know if it’s an actual god of the Voudon religion, but it has to be getting something out of the deal, or why else would it be throwing around soul transfers like passing out change to panhandlers?”

For the first time, Frid cursed his lack of knowledge of the associated pantheon. Most of what he knew came from pop culture—which meant that it was exaggerated, wrong, or flat-out made up for narrative purposes—and mostly focussed on Baron Samedi, rather than anybody else involved. Scion did invoke them, as “the Loa,” but it threw in a bunch of historical African deities as well and limited them all to fit the gameplay mechanics; and he’d only skimmed that section, anyway.

Give me a question about Greco-Roman mythology—that doesn’t involve TYPE-MOON’s version, anyways—the Norse, the Egyptians . . . Hell, even the Celts, I know more about . . .

The Exalt shook his head, frustrated, and moved on.

“As to Chucky himself . . . He’s stronger and tougher than something normally his size; but probably no more than he was as a human being, since most people seem to have no trouble tossing him around when they make the effort. His plastic frame is a bit tougher than flesh and bone—and losing limbs and whatnot only really slows him down—but in the end, he’s very much an ambush predator, relying on tricks, traps, and most of all, on being either unseen or unremarkable to get the jump on his victims.”

“So, you’re not worried about fighting him, versus Michael Myers,” Ilya finished.

“Not as worried,” Frid corrected. “Chucky is a tricky little bastard, and I almost certainly need to borrow Ren again. I don’t know that Andy has nightmares, but even if he doesn’t, Chucky is small and hard to spot. He can easily get into places that someone Michael’s size couldn’t; through undersized windows, ventilation shafts. . . Hell, he frequently travels through the mail!

“We need more than one set of eyes on that place if we’re going to catch him in time—and no offense, but a bunch of random Japanese teenagers are going to look seriously out of place. Maybe not if they were still in Chicago, but this is small-town 1980s America; a place where, for example, literally everybody and their children know who Jamie Lloyd and her family are, even though common sense says they shouldn’t. Anybody but Ren and I will attract attention, and potential obstructions at critical moments are something we don’t need.”

Not for the first time, Frid bemoaned the fact that Luvia, Gray, and Caren were neither present nor (currently, at least) feasible—they needed people who could interact outside of Asia without looking out-of-place . . . Granted, those three would attract notice just by virtue of being attractive (or albino, in Caren’s case), but they could move through the Western world without being noted simply for being “not white,” like the rest of the Works.

(And he made a mental note, again, to find out why no one ever seemed to mention or want to discuss Ciel . . .)

Until then, Frid supposed, it was he and Ren—at least, for as long as she’d tolerate it—and he’d just have to hope that was enough.

“I’m not too worried about being able to take him, though, no,” he finally concluded, in answer to Ilya’s question. “At worst, he’s got Myers’ toughness and strength without the reach or mass to apply it; and so far as his resurrecting goes, once it’s loose, I can probably just eat the little bastard’s soul—”

Let’s see him come back from that . . .

“But it’s probably best if we try to get our hands on copies of the movies,” he added suddenly, as the thought occurred to him, “just in case there’s details I’m missing.”

“That won’t be easy,” Ilya warned. “And that’s if it’s even possible.”

“I know,” Frid sighed. “That’s what started this whole mess . . .”








Writer's Notes: So, fun fact - Andy Barclay was put into foster care in October of 1990, according to an in-movie calendar. It's like this crossover was meant to happen . . . And it turns out, I probably actually could put Jamie in the middle of Jason Takes Manhattan; I'd forgotten Rachel's parents took a cruise in the fifth movie, just to get the heck out of town for Halloween - Rachel was only staying because she didn't want to leave Jamie alone at the hospital . . .

. . . Ye gods, I may actually need to write this story/series - HELP!

[Arbitrarity]

When inspiration strikes, it creates an ionized trail that makes subsequent lightning strikes along the same path have much less resistance? (I am aggressively stretching that metaphor)

Mostly making the implied state from the previous snippet much more explicit. Once more, I haven't seen the horror series in question, though the instant I read "his doll did it" in the last snippet, my brain threw up "Chucky", so apparently it was fairly popular.

I didn't initially notice the temporal de-sequence between the two parts, though it certainly is more dramatic to have Jamie first. Her perspective is interesting, it does a good job capturing the way children tend to have very... absolute beliefs.

[Kieran]

When inspiration strikes, it creates an ionized trail that makes subsequent lightning strikes along the same path have much less resistance? (I am aggressively stretching that metaphor)

You are, but you aren't wrong . . . While I'm no fan of gore or aggressive sexuality (the first Hellraiser movie was too much for me, and that was made in 1987! And the Saw franchise is right out), horror movies are a passion of mine. I enjoy the mythos and the craft of them as much as the plot or characters. And TYPE-MOON dabbles in it, as well (more with Tsukihime than Fate, but still), so the temptation to mix them . . .

And as I've noted, Jamie's fate is unconscionable; if there's a way to fix it, I want to. So the urge to play with this particular sandbox, especially as I'm noting how I could cross franchises, is tempting.

And amusingly, as I read through the history of the franchise, I found that a crossover was proposed as a film at one point; it would've pitted Michael Myers against Pinhead (of Hellraiser), which I regard as the most one-sided matchup in horror history . . . Fortunately, for all his faults, the executive producer/godfather of the franchise listened to his employees, and said "No."

I genuinely think there's a story here; it's a question of weaving the Works characters into it sufficiently to make it worthwhile. Perhaps actually do the plot of Halloween and the Thorn Trilogy in the context of TYPE-MOON's mythos, and have Waver investigating it . . .? That would make trying to maintain secrecy interesting . . .

Mostly making the implied state from the previous snippet much more explicit. Once more, I haven't seen the horror series in question, though the instant I read "his doll did it" in the last snippet, my brain threw up "Chucky", so apparently it was fairly popular.

Seven movies and a TV series over 33 years, so yes. Pop culture osmosis is a real phenomenon; if something's spread widely enough, or long enough, you can't help but pick things up even if you go out of your way to avoid it. I still know things about Game of Thrones, even though neither it nor its parent books interest me.

I didn't initially notice the temporal de-sequence between the two parts, though it certainly is more dramatic to have Jamie first.

That was my thought, and I admit I deliberately didn't put the timestamp in the line below, as I usually do, just to see who'd notice . . . *Chuckles*

Her perspective is interesting, it does a good job capturing the way children tend to have very... absolute beliefs.

Yes - though to be fair, hers have been borne out, so far . . .

[RanmaBushiko]

So. Interestingly enough, I finally finished Chapter 13 of the Wolfen Sidestory Then I looked back to find where I posted Chapter 12. Considering how I can't find it, I apparently forgot to post it, and left you all without Wolfen for a while. So, double post here for you all! Old author's notes are old, but you can see why I slowed down on the sidestory quite a bit, until now. Chapter 11 can be found here.

Chapter 12: Of Kitsune and an idol



Kongou’s “Safe House/Tea House”


A jail cell.

Being smug, even as ________ kept her there.

Meeting an old friend, who refused to release her.

Meeting the other one serving her current boss, only for that one to do nothing either.

Then the automations come, brought in by _______.

The whining of buzz saw blades.

Then only pain, agony and suffering as they start literally cutting away parts of her…!

Wolfen snaps awake, shaking and panting for breath from the Dream Cycle, only to see Koyanskaya awake, watching her carefully.

For a moment, Wolfen wipes away her tears, before focusing on an illusion within herself, adjusting her cloak to ensure Mordred will sleep through things.

Immediately, she feels her senses dull drastically, as she pulls Koyanskaya in for a hug.

“I’m sorry, for what that madman ordered done to you in that jail cell.” Wolfen quietly sends via telepathy.

“Go to sleep, Master. You shouldn’t think about such things as what you saw. A Servant is merely a tool.” Koyanskaya retorts, quietly.

“No. I get it. He hated you for your past, didn’t he? As part of…” Wolfen trails off, quietly.

“Daji? Tamamo no Mae? Two of the most feared Kitsune in history? Tch, of course he would. He saw to ensure very thoroughly my punishment would truly be terrible for touching his citizens, as well.” Koyanskaya trails off, then winces as Wolfen hugs her closer.

“I know. I know damned well about your past.” Wolfen admits, quietly clinging to her Servant. “I don’t care, either. Humanity tries to kill what it doesn’t understand.”

“...Get some sleep, Master. We’ll talk about this another day.” Koyanskaya replies, mental voice sounding grumpy and tired.

5 minutes pass, as Koyanskaya falls asleep, Wolfen’s eyes flickering shut soon after.



5 Hours Later




Wolfen looks at Koyanskaya, studying her carefully.

Koyanskaya looks back at her new Master, quietly.

Kongo sips on her new cup of tea.

Hoppou continues to watch anime, while using Wolfen’s lap as a pillow.

“So, not that I don’t enjoy the admiration, but why exactly are you looking at me like this, Master?” Koyanskaya finally asks.

Wolfen sighs, softly. “Just deciding how to deal with you, honestly.” Wolfen admits, while eating her breakfast, that Kongou had made for the group of them. “Would you rather join us in dealing with the assorted shipgirl and Abyssal mess that the world is dealing with? Or prank Eris’ pantheon into submission, ensuring they get no work done?”

Koyanskaya settles back, obviously thinking over that.

“Keep in mind, I have a single Command Spell right now. Any use of such, until whatever daddy made that gave me this increases it? Is going to not happen. So you’ll have no backup going in if you go now.” Wolfen adds in, still eating and studying her Servant.

Koyanskaya slowly nods, a frown on her face. “So in other words, until you have a spare Servant, or extra equipment, I have no backup.”


“Considering how they spend divine artifacts like water, as well?” Wolfen sighs. “It’s not the easiest of things to deal with, if they’re capable of doing something on that scale.”

A slow nod from the pink haired Kitsune is Wolfen’s only answer, as she frowns.

“Are deities truly so terrifying?” Kongo speaks up, now curious.

To that, Wolfen simply projects onto the wall the fight between Erik and the others once more, showing them what she had shown Kongou before. Complete with annotations to who was who this time.

“That was Daddy, my builder, and Norse God of Mecha, killing the infamous Jormungandr. With the help of his friends, and my honorary uncles! But even still, Daddy did the final blow. Do you think you could pull off that sort of fight, on that level, Kongo?” Wolfen retorts, studying Kongo’s reaction.

For a long moment, Kongo stares, not even noticing the tea cup she had made earlier, had a hairline crack in it from the sheer shock of seeing something like that die.

“Perhaps my Super Graviton Cannon on my ship body could hurt it.” Kongo admits. “But I’m not sure if Corrosive Torpedoes would. Since this Mental Model has neither? I do understand what you mean.”

“We learned later that the damned thing had some sort of divine skill that could shut down all electronics, and make them into mockeries of what they normally were.” Wolfen admits, then sighs. “My main cannon, the laser cannon, was built to take stuff like that on and hurt them. But even I’m not capable of countering such a divine skill like that.”

Kongo frowns. “So yours is divinely made science made to deal with such things, while mine is super science made to deal with different things, then?”

Wolfen nods in agreement, before looking at Hoppou. “You’re having fun watching Anime. Did you want to talk about things?”

“Hoppou is crewed by dead children lost at sea. Hoppou really doesn’t care one way or another as long as the decisions seem nice, and lead to Hoppou and others being happy, rather than sad. Makes life much easier for Hoppou, too!” Hoppou retorts, snuggling close with Wolfen’s lap.

Wolfen nods, quietly contemplating things, as she mentally reviews everything, before looking towards Koyanskaya. “Koyanskaya. After retrieving the route that Hoppou and myself took to get there the first time? Infiltrate the deities behind the decision to see all shipgirls and Abyssals dead. Once you’ve done so, prank them into the ground. Everyone but Eris and Aqua suffers.”

Koyanskaya smiles wide, before she bows and disappears. Moments later, she reappears, holding maps in one hand, before bowing once more.

“Before you go?” Wolfen focuses, doing her best to ignore the strain, before a laser rifle plops down in front of them, fully sized.

“I’ll be paying for this later, my Servant, in food and energy costs, but this is a Mark 3 Laser Rifle based on the one Daddy had for personal use, before I wound up here like this. It should let you assassinate most Demigods without too much of an issue, possibly full fledged Gods as well, if they can’t take a hit. So long, of course, as you don’t get splattered against a wall afterwards.” Wolfen states. “Do keep it safe.”

Koyanskaya’s smile widens, as she takes it gently, looking it over. “Oh, of course!”

“Also, do keep in mind, it has pictures of all ally’s faces, or people I want alive, and it won’t fire on anyone involved that are considered allies.” Wolfen adds in a moment later, leaving Koyanskaya looking up in surprise, before nodding once more.

“Understood, Master. If that’s all, I’ll be going.” Koyanskaya admits, before disappearing along with the Laser Rifle.

After that, Wolfen quietly breathes out, before her eyes search the room for a moment, then land on Kongo. “Did you want to chat about anything?” Wolfen finally asks.

“That laser rifle reminded me of my Photon Cannons, if down a completely different technological path.” Kongo admits, quietly.

A quiet yawn from Hoppou is heard, before she curls up closer against Wolfen, slowly falling asleep.

Wolfen settles back, looking at Kongo, before nodding in appreciation. “Likely so.” Wolfen states, more quietly. “Father developed them from scratch, but they’re like supercharged lasers in a lot of ways, and I suspect yours could easily be derived from supercharging, but not being at the right frequencies.”

Kongo nods, deep in thought, before frowning at the hairline cracks in her cup slightly. After a moment, she finishes off the tea within, before slowly turning the cup back into nanomaterial.

A long moment passes, as they both simply sit, before Kongo folds her arms. “Would you mind if I explore the town for a while?”

For a moment, Wolfen frowns, before passing over a small drone. “Use this to get back to me, or tell the Legion of Coal unit within if you have issues, and I’ll come to you.” Wolfen frowns more, before nodding, and pulling out the card that Admiral Kouzuki had given her some time before. “Also, if you wish to purchase anything, feel free to purchase things using this, though keep in mind that there’s not much currency there yet.”

Kongo nods, studying it for a moment, then Wolfen. “I suppose there’s the ritual of asking if you’d like me to buy something while I’m out?”

“If it isn’t too expensive, ice cream tends to be a good snack, but I do need Wasabi for my own reactors. If you feel it’s too expensive, however, you don’t need to worry.” Wolfen states, nodding to Kongo.

Kongo nods, her dress altering to a truly dark purple color, before she gets up and leaves. “Until later, then.”

For a long while, Kongo watches the television Hoppou has been enjoying, gently running her fingers through Hoppou’s hair, before glancing over at the sound of the door shutting.

Then her gaze turns towards the final occupant in the room, wearing a space suit yet never being noticed by anyone else, one which her advanced detection systems and supernaturally built radar barely picks up.

“Would you like me to prepare some tea for you, as well? Or was it a true shock to the system that my Daddy, my creator, was so terrifyingly good at combat?” Wolfen eventually asks.

The helmeted figure spins, looking at Wolfen with wide eyes from within the helmet. After a long pause, it shakes its head ‘no’ while pointing at the teapot, to signify a lack of interest in the tea.

“Not wanting to talk, then. Exhausting?” Wolfen questions, carefully.

The figure nods, once.

For a moment, Wolfen drums her fingers against the couch, gently.

Then she nods, decisively. “Are you damaged somehow, perhaps?”

A nod from the figure.

“Perhaps… are you linked to the Admiralty Code somehow?” Wolfen asks, carefully.

A slow pause, before another nod from the figure is her answer.

Wolfen’s eyes narrow, as she thinks. “Do you need mechanical assistance, or have you been influenced somehow?”

A shake of the head to the first, and a nod to the second, leaves Wolfen frowning.

“Do keep in mind that the local deities don’t have your best interests in mind, since you’re linked to the Admiralty Code somehow.” Wolfen admits. “You or your ships that you’re linked to, however you might be.”

A slow nod from the figure is Wolfen’s only answer, as she thinks.

“However, if you need mechanical assistance for one reason or another, the best person for that would either be Daddy, or Wayland Smith if he exists in this universe.” Wolfen eventually admits, quietly. “I might, might mind you, be able to do something, but I’m running mostly on plans, what I saw of my Daddy building me, and a knowledge of engineering that’s far inferior to everything my father could do. I’ll be heading off in a few days to look into Kitsune, then to find Wayland Smith to see if he can’t fix me somehow, myself.”

The suited figure’s head tilts to the side for a long moment, before it nods and disappears.

After a long moment, Wolfen’s breath slowly leaves her lungs in a woosh, before she starts hyperventilating while hugging Hoppou close.

“What the hell WAS that being?! We were lucky that the radar picked it up!” Mordred whispers, after no reappearance of the space suited figure happens. “It scares me worse than Dracula did, and that fight both enraged and pissed me off to the point where I could ignore the fear to crush him with help. Hell, it scares me worse than Erik does at his most enraged!”

“I don’t know, Mordred. I just don’t know…” Wolfen quietly whispers, before holding Hoppou closer, rocking the young looking Abyssal in her arms gently.

For a while, Wolfen just hugs Hoppou in her arms, as she thinks.

Then a smiling Kongou sneaks in and waves at them both while moving off to make food. Wolfen smiles, then gently moves so Hoppou is on the couch, before sneaking after Kongou.

“No Mental Model here, or sexy Kitsune?” Kongou asks, as she hums, making some tasty food for them all.

“Kongo wanted to go looking through the city, and I sent said Kitsune in question for a pranking spree to buy us time.” Wolfen nods.

“The legends don’t do anyone like her justice, I’ll admit.” Kongou states. “Her figure makes me jealous, just looking at her!”

“Hard to tell if it’s kitsune being a kitsune, normally, but I can say that Mommy had the same sort of figure hidden underneath her clothing.” Wolfen nods. “We’ll never quite match up I suppose, but we’re battleships as well, so I suspect our figure is based partially on how we’re built, too.”

Kongou nods, then smiles at Wolfen helping prepare some of the food with her, leaving them just working together in comfortable silence.

“So. Aerial Battleship, hmm?” Kongou asks quietly, while making tea alongside the food.

Wolfen glances over. “You figured it out while I was out of it, hmm?”

“More I got a big visual in front of me, telling me that if I joined, I could install those secondary lasers into my rigging, to replace my current secondaries.” Kongou admits. “Gave me the Prototype Aerial Battleship bit, and everything! However, it also mentioned that your side isn’t at war with the Abyssals for the ‘War for the Trident’ that we’re in right now.”

“Huh. That’s…” Wolfen trails off, rubbing her chin. “I wondered.”

“What exactly did you do to make your keel into two parts, anyways?” Kongou asks, half glaring. “I worry about you, you know? You’re my friend!”

Wolfen winces, quietly. “They were getting ready to force Hoppou to work for them, and my rail gun’s ammunition wasn’t cutting it. One, I hurt, but the rest just wouldn’t get more than their armor a bit chipped. So I went as high up as I safely could, and dropped, using the Radiant Wave Surger to punch a hole right through that pinkish white haired Abyssal Princess.” Wolfen sighs. “It killed her cleanly, but I went down without an angle, and landed wrong. To be fair, I was aiming for the water nearby, but between the storm, and being more preoccupied with hitting her and saving Hoppou? One moment, my fist was passing through, I was desperately trying to slow down, then the next was one big crunch as I barely kept from losing my legs.”

Kongou slowly nods, thinking. “Work on going for an angle next time!”

“Of course, of course.” Wolfen sighs. “Hoppou has been adorable to work with, though, so I can’t complain too much.”

Kongou giggles softly. “She’s become like a little sister for you, hasn’t she?”

Wolfen nods, smiling. “Indeed.”

“Now for the Elephant in the room…” Kongou muses aloud. “Mental Model Kongo.”

“She’s kind of really hot…” Wolfen murmurs, then blushes brightly at Kongou giggling at Wolfen.

“Got the hots for a cute flagship?” Kongou teases, a wide smile on her face.

“Maybe?” Wolfen blushes more. “She’s definitely coarse around the edges, but considering how hard it is for Daddy’s Legion of Coal to think like humans, I think I understand her rather well.”

“Obsessed with tactics, too.” Kongou points out, thinking.

“Yeah, I was thinking about getting her a copy of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, if there’s any in this universe.” Wolfen admits. “Maybe some historical videos on naval warfare too?”

Kongou nods, thinking. “Would be fitting for her, at least. She seems rather focused on being a flagship just like I’m winding up in the position of myself.”

Kongou trails off, blushing. “It’s not a bad position to be in, honestly. Still, sometimes it can be overwhelming. I only recently came back, and now all these other ships are coming back as well. I have this man who loves me wholeheartedly, and life is just so wonderful right now… I’m just terrified something will come to break it.”

Wolfen quietly smiles. “It fits you, Kongou, the flagship role. As for that fear? I get it. Hoppou’s fleet is working to ensure the convoys are relatively safe, but they haven’t seen the rest of the ones that attacked her...”

“Meaning we still have to worry about 3 Abyssal Princesses with a grudge.” Kongou sighs. “All Hoppou really said was that you came down on the one like a personal smiting from a deity.”


Wolfen nods. “To be fair, I was made by a Norse God personally.” Wolfen grins at that. “Doesn’t mean it’s different to feel less of a ship, and more of a daughter now…”

Kongou simply nods, a smile on her face. “I’ll agree to that. Being more human has so many possibilities we now have. It’s still a pity that we’re in legal limbo, except for being seen as national assets and treasures.”

Wolfen winces at that, then nods with a sigh. “True enough. Adding in what little I’ve heard about Arizona and her issues?”

“Someone did some very stupid things over there, from what I heard. When they finally overreached in their attempts to seize power from the military through Arizona, by trying to force her to abort her child? Their plot collapsed with them and their allies dead in the Senate.” Kongou states, quietly. “With the bulk of the rest dead as well, since cannonfire in a small enclosed building pulped most of the organs of the ones nearby from the shockwaves alone.”

“And Missouri wonders why I don’t submit?” Wolfen sarcastically questions.


“Oh, for a Javert, she’s been doing pretty well on finding her own way as of late.” Kongou retorts, a smile on her face. “Though I gave her a few tips on how to try and get in her Admiral’s pants, from what you told me. I think she’ll be too busy chasing him to realize what it means if she lands him.”

Wolfen’s smirk rapidly changes into a full blown smile, before pulling Kongou in for a hug. “You’ve turned out to be a damned good friend, Kongou. Thank you for that.”

Wolfen pauses in her returning to helping prepare the food, as she realizes exactly what Kongou called Missouri. “Was that a Les Miserables reference, perhaps?”

“Considering how she acts like Javert in that book and musical?” Kongou giggles. “I thought it was a perfect reference, myself. A stubborn investigator, seeing the world in black and white, until they die after realizing how wrong they were? By suicide no less? At least her ending will at worst only see her pregnant rather than dead. If she learns her lesson and sees the world in far more shades of color, so much the better in my book.”

The two of them share a smile, before they get back to work on the food.

“So, where is my counterpart?” Kongou asks, her smile still wide on her face.

“I let her go out shopping with that card your Teitoku gave me. Made sure she’d grab some wasabi, as well.” Wolfen admits. “She should be good, I think. I caught her watching dramas this morning, as well as having purple screens around her while looking up different methods for shopping and the like.”

Kongou blinks, before her smile reappears as she nods. “Well, it sounds like she shouldn’t get into too much trouble…” Kongou pauses in her speech, her eyes narrowed.

Then she moves to the window, staring at Naka outside, a cell phone in hand, Naka rapidly typing to herself as she mutters aloud.

“From all intents and purposes, this mysterious stranger is coming from this mysterious house that I can find no information on! I’ll discover exactly who she is, why she has a military card, then Teitoku shall thank me for being a wonderful future Idol of the Fleet!” Naka whispers, typing her words out to herself.

Then she abruptly finds herself indoors, a dark smile on Kongou’s face, in front of a cup of tea.

“Hello, Naka. Exactly why are you spying on a top secret military safehouse for holding VIP guests?” Kongou asks, a dark look on her face.

“More than that, why are you looking so suspicious? You’re likely to give away the fact that I’m in Japan when I’m so badly hurt right now.” Wolfen growls low, revealing she’s named for a Wolf for more than one reason.

“Oh no, please don’t hurt me?! I’m the cute Idol of the fleet! I can’t be killed by you!” Naka whimpers.

“Weren’t you going on about ‘Future idol of the fleet’ a bit ago? Kongou asks, the dark smile on her face never fading.

“Oh, she did!” Wolfen agrees, the growling growing louder as she menaces Naka with a smile. “Now, did you happen to send anyone information about you being here? Or try to?”

“No, no I didn’t, please don’t hurt the cute idol of the fleet, oh please have mercy!” The whimpering Naka shakes in her seat.

“Are you going to let anyone know about what’s going on here?” Kongou asks. “If you do, I’ll never bake a treat for you again.”

Naka’s whimpering grows worse, as she looks at Kongou with horror in her eyes. “Those are so delicious, though!”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t quite get it, then? Naka. If you ever let anyone know about what’s going on in here, I’ll ensure you never enjoy ice cream again. It’s that important.” Wolfen says, a brilliant smile on her face.

“How exactly would you do that?” Kongou asks, looking over at Wolfen with confusion.

“Your crew has rifles. Mine has laser rifles. I’ve tested them too! They still cut through steel like a hot knife through butter with ease.” Wolfen continues, the smile on her face never changing.

“Steel?” Kongou asks, before getting it with a wince. “You’d seriously have them sabotage every refrigerator and freezer on the base?!”

“As well as cutting the bottoms out of the ice cream jars she has, cutting spoons in half…” Wolfen trails off with a grin, as Naka starts whimpering with the terror of the damned.

“Please, not the ice cream!” Naka whimpers, going onto the floor and begging on hands and knees. “Don’t torment me by taking my desserts away!”

“Then you can’t talk about anything you see in here, or shout about it, ever. No anime tropes either. That means wiping all the data you wrote, too.” Wolfen smiles.

Naka pouts but nods, shivering quietly. “You two are scary to me…” Then she pauses, frowning. “Oh, I could have broken Operational Security, couldn’t I?”

“Considering whatever app you’re using on your phone is linked to Kami knows how many spy services, all trying to copy the data?” Wolfen asks, before casually picking the phone up. Then several Legion of Coal units start poking at it, and tapping at it.

Naka frowns. “How did you know?”

“I’m in the middle of stopping it from being sent and received, of course!” Wolfen retorts. “My ECM includes modern computers, after all! Especially since I have better spying satellites than every government on the planet does.”

Naka blinks. “Oooh! So you’re like the super idol of neat machines?!”

“More the greatest battleship made by the Norse God of Mecha.” Wolfen retorts, before adding in, at the clueless look on Naka’s face. “Think of me as a battleship turned shipgirl, made by a Kami of Mecha and Machines, from a far away universe. Part of me landed here, and thus… shipgirl, instead of ship.”

Naka blinks repeatedly, slowly working on how to wrap her head around it.


A loud yawn interrupts whatever she was going to say. “Hoppou’s awake! Wolfen, where did you go?”

Hoppou sticks her head out, moments later, then blinks at Naka at the tea table.

Naka stares, before whimpering, a quiet whisper of “Oh by the Kami, it’s an Abyssal Princess, oh Kami please save me, I’m so going to die.”


Then, after a moment, she breathes in hard to scream, then “Eeps” at Wolfen’s rigging completely out, aimed at her instead.

“Scream and I’m going to make good on that threat involving your ice cream.” Wolfen states. “She’s a friendly. Now stand down.”

Naka stares at the Abyssal Princess on one side of the room, then Wolfen on the other.


“Ok! Ok! I’ll be calm. So please, can you tell me what is going on?” Naka pleads, quietly, shaking until Wolfen’s secondaries disappear once more.

“Hoppou here is the Northern Ocean Princess, or so she told me her title was before I made friends with her, and saved her from a bunch of Abyssals that wanted to do her harm, at the cost of losing my main cannons.” Wolfen admits. “Her and her allies hold the Aleutians and Midway Island.”

Naka blinks, then goes wide eyed while listening. Her attempt to open her mouth to speak, however, is countered by a scone in her mouth.


“Hoppou’s allies are also the only Abyssals that see humanity as a future trading partner, and want taxes for letting cargo ships through rather than slaughtering everyone involved, and stealing the food for themselves.” Wolfen continues, leaving Naka wincing. “And you just about cocked it up for everyone and let everyone know about Kongou’s only safehouse.”

Naka whimpers, nodding quietly. “I’ll be good, I’ll never talk about it, I promise!”

Wolfen nods, her dark smile turning into a normal bright and cheery one, before she gently pats Naka’s head. “Good. Because if you don’t, and I ever catch you, I’ll introduce you to my mecha compliment. Or better yet, build a full size one, just to chase you in, and stomp you in.”


Naka freezes up, staring at Wolfen.

Wolfen smiles kindly, one leg opening up to show a mech stepping out of it.

Naka stares at the mech with no little horror, before whimpering a terrified, high pitched whine, and passing out.


Hoppou simply giggles, while Kongou happily sips on a cup of tea.

Kongou pauses, looking at the mech. The mech in question tilts its head, staring at her.

“Aww, it’s so cute!” Kongou squeals softly, before picking up the mech and hugging it. “Who’s an adorable mecha! You are! It’s so totally you, you cute adorable mech, you!”


Wolfen simply smiles for a long while, while Hoppou kneels to study the small war machine that goes up close to her mid-thighs from being short.

“Aww, it’s so cute!” Hoppou admits, smiling. “Looks like it could go ‘Rawr’ and all that sort of stuff at its enemies!”

Wolfen giggles softly, nodding in agreement. “They can! It sounds like a metal dinosaur!”


Three girls giggle for a long moment, before Kongou pauses, then goes wide eyed. “Oh no, I won’t let the fish burn!” With those words, she gets back to work, rapidly doing her best to fix the situation.

“Hoppou wonders… Wolfen? Did your Daddy make any other ships like you?” Hoppou asks, curiously.

Wolfen pauses, nodding slowly. “Yeah. I had 78 sister Aerial Battleships, but seeing as I was the prototype, only one was actually built within me. Others were built partially in me as a stopgap before we could get them produced en-masse elsewhere.”

“Would it be possible for you to build new ones?” Hoppou asks, thinking.


“As I am now? No. I don’t have the room, I’m afraid.” Wolfen thinks, quietly.

“Perhaps you could summon one of the others that were already built, then? As a stopgap measure until you could get one back?” Hoppou asks, thinking.

Wolfen pauses. Kongou pauses.


Both of them look at each other.

“She has an idea, you know? I didn’t think about that, but if you have metal from home that isn’t eaten, we might be able to set up a summoning array for them.” Kongou admits, before working on ensuring that lunch won’t be burned.

“How much metal would that take?” Wolfen asks, intently.

“Aside from some sort of focus that involves something from ships so shipgirls can be summoned?” Kongou thinks, questioning herself as she works it out. “I remember waking up near where my ship was sunk, as a girl. Teitoku was desperate for any help to the point where he came out to where I was sunk, begging for aid and help from someone, anyone… to his words, his pleading and begging for someone, anyone to help? I awoke. Then I saved him, time after time.”


Wolfen thinks, before quietly nodding. “I’ve got about a kilogram left of my hull that I kept safe in case I needed a later snack.” Wolfen pulls it out, studying it. “Mostly, the others were built in Wolf Home, later, Daddy’s Space Station. The only one of them... “ Wolfen trails off, smiling. “Well, she held mecha too, so perhaps we could get her.”

Kongou nods, thinking. “Perhaps for the Aleutians, so we have a guaranteed guardian there that they won’t mind?”


Hoppou smiles widely, as Wolfen nods. “Likely the best option we can get, and considering how much you’ve been of help, we’ll be glad to have her!”

“The Home Guard Aerial Battleships weren’t as advanced as I was, to be fair. More missile launchers, more mortars, but far less railguns or laser rifles.” Wolfen trails off, thinking. “They had Spinal Mounted weapons like me, a Railgun and a Laser Cannon, but theirs weren’t quite as strong, mostly because they had less power generation they could allow to feed into the two overall.” Wolfen trails off, thinking.

“You’re not sure, are you?” Kongou asks, quietly.


“In this political situation? I’m not quite so sure. Only one of them was built with the Ragnarok Protocols like I was, involving a Radiant Wave Surger, the same one I had built inside me fully. If we’re lucky, we’ll get ‘Tamamo’s Respite’, the ship in question. If not…” Wolfen trails off, then sighs. “I don’t know how to ensure they can go toe to toe with Abyssal Princesses or shipgirls if it isn’t her.”

Kongou slowly nods, before glancing up to stare at Kongo walking back in.

Kongo’s eyes trail to the still unconscious form of Naka on the floor, as one eyebrow raises, before her eyes return to Wolfen and Kongou.


“I see you’ve been busy as well while I went shopping.” Kongo states, no hint of emotion in her eyes. “Though I did have to adjust my dress so it wouldn’t give any of those boys ‘fanservice’ as they asked for.”

Wolfen winces, quietly. “Sorry to hear that. Young men are typically ruled by their hormones. Honestly? It takes more time with some than others, to grow out of it.”

Kongo nods imperiously, expression never changing, as she puts down a massive pile of books on the table.





Author’s Notes

This has been a while in coming, sorry. (Yes. I know. I know. I should be working on Fate: Anarchy damn it. But that, and it’s interludes are going slow. For good reason. I know how it’s going to go, but the sheer amount of calculations for how a production line unit for Erik’s Metal Gear Rex series going against a Basmu has been a pain in my ass.) There’s a few good reasons, though! (Also, pardon me for any ranting here in spots. I have good reason.)


First? You’re getting to see vastly more world building here with certain aspects. Which was a pain to work out how things would work and set up without breaking everything else. The sheer amount of time it took to work out how Konosuba’s deities would interfere with the local beings of power, such as kitsune? Took far longer than I thought it would.

Second? I wound up purchasing myself a Honda Helix January 9th, and the sheer stress of getting ready for that, especially with the sheer luck of finding the listing, and exhaustion mixed with relief afterwards? Has left me slow in writing. Not to mention buying a gps tracker for it, for my peace of mind, getting a cover at the last minute, and blowing more cash than I ever thought I’d spend in one place. I’m genuinely tired from that, even now, while writing this.


Third? My surround sound ordered before Christmas finally came on January 12th. Stupidly heavy surround sound was stupidly heavy, and getting it set up this last week was hard. I’ll freely admit, 1000 watts instead of 70 is wonderful for listening to! But it was slow going in getting it set up, taking my old one down, and my arms still feel like lead off and on. Ugh.

Fourth? Chapter 123 for Arpeggio of Blue Steel came out, and wrecked half my damn plot for this story in one fell swoop. Goddamned Admiralty Code being an eldritch pain in my fucking ass with the shit pulled there.

Having to figure out how to make up for exactly the sort of shit the Admiralty Code will get to do in the near future, now?


Leaves me looking back at that Kongo versus Wolfen fight and going “Man, that could have been easier… but what a fucking copout it would have been, too.” followed by me settling back and working out how to salvage the plot so it will be entertaining, still have enough Fate elements to not get eventually chucked onto a different board by mods, and ensure there’s a possibility for a happy ending, rather than going for a Norse “We’re all going to die, but we’ll die happy anyways!” ending.

I think I’ve figured out how to pull that off, but it means the fun chapters I’ve been writing are a lot more work than planned, too.

Dammit, Admiralty Code, why couldn’t you have stayed a benevolent missing overseer instead of pulling shit like this?! At least I could have explained things better than you coming in and wrecking all the goddamned shit in Arpeggio of Blue Steel’s plot the way you did!

At least it gives me a better idea of how to work her into things.

Also? I’m pretty sure I totally called it about her being an eldritch abomination or something close enough stuffed into a human meat suit now!


Just reincarnating into them instead of body stealing. I’m not sure if that’s better though…

[RanmaBushiko]

Chapter 13: Yet More Kitsune: Illusion Boogaloo





The Next Day
Somewhere over Hokkaido




Wolfen flies, frowning as her compass leads her slowly towards her destination. If it could be called that. Clinging to her belly is Hoppou, and on her back is Kongo.

“Somehow, I’m still unsure how on earth we wound up giving them a ride…” Mordred admits, quietly.

Hoppou clings to Wolfen’s belly closer, as she snuggles in. Meanwhile, Wolfen shivers slightly as Kongo adjusts her grip on Wolfen’s waist, leaving her feeling sensations she’d never anticipated before.


“At least it’s nice, Mordred?” Wolfen admits, quietly. “I didn’t know that being held like this could feel so nice…”

“Keep your mind on your priorities now, hot girl on your back later.” Mordred orders, a grin on her face. “You can enjoy the eye candy on your back AFTER our job is done.”

“You really aren’t helping, Mordred.” Wolfen admits, before eyes focusing on the compass turning under her.

Then she speaks up. “Remember, we have no clue what they might be up to, so let me do the talking, okay?”

Hoppou nods from Wolfen’s belly, gently. “Okay, Wolfen!”

“Indeed.” Kongo admits. “I’m curious as to these ‘Kitsune’ you speak of after all.”

With that, Wolfen slowly descends, wincing at the slight strain on her systems as she does so.

“Even if you’re built for carrying mecha, it’s still hard, huh?” Mordred asks, sympathetically.

Wolfen only slightly nods, knowing her captain will feel it, as they descend.

To a rather peculiar sight.

Short blonde hair, blue eyes and two yellowish white wings. A pink dress with white accents, sleeves barely linked to the dress itself. An “Angel” stands in a clearing, across from a nine tailed Kitsune.

Having an argument, no less.

“-We still don’t have anyone to send!” The kitsune growls, biology hidden from the tails obscuring them from view..

“I simply don’t understand. The orders we gave for breeding purposes were clear. To ensure the organization won’t collapse, we need sources of legend to bolster our ranks. You should have at least 5 more Kyuubi by now.” The Angel retorts, her arms folded.


“It would have worked better, if that blue haired bitch would stop stealing all our breeding options!” The Kitsune snarls with rage, then breathes out. “Every time we try to set up a good pair that will fit your standards, they get kidnapped by that bitch to be an object of power for some ‘hero’ that she sends off as cannon fodder!”

The Angel pauses, frowning. “Leaving just you alone as the source of power for your tribe. I see.”

“Considering how she hinted that she won’t stop, no matter how much we try to bribe her?” The kitsune admits, quietly.

The Angel frowns, folding her arms. “Nevertheless, we’re down to the bare minimum of an influx of legend. We need a 9 tailed kitsune as a tribute.”

“And if I do that, my race will die. You’re shooting yourselves in the foot for a bare minimum of power that won’t flow right. Are you sure you want to kill off the remaining worshippers you have amongst kitsune?” The kitsune rebukes the Angel, coldly.

The Angel frowns deeply. “A fair point. I’ll have to have a talk with my superiors on this, but if I can’t get this fixed, you should pack your bags, just in case.”

“It’s not like you’re going to be able to handle things, what with the mess of those Shipgirls and Abyssals making a mess of the world.” The Kitsune retorts. “As it is, we’re all going to starve if that isn’t fixed, and soon.”

“Expect things to be done and over with by the end of Winter.” The Angel admits. “Orders from higher up to not talk about it, though.”

The kitsune slowly nods, looking pensive. “That still leaves them starving in the short run.” It retorts, watching carefully.

The Angel frowns, then shakes her head. “And for that, there’s nothing I can do. If I feed them, I’ll be paying far more than I have to ensure they get a single meal. If I help them, it’ll be taken from me at a price I can’t afford to pay, no matter how much I wish otherwise.” The Angel admits, looking pensive. “Nothing I do matters except follow orders, and hope for the best. I’m in as bad a situation as you are. Anything I do to counteract orders, I get punished for, with Millennia of work to make up for the mess.”

The Kitsune looks away, thinking as it obviously does so.

For a moment, the Angel almost reaches out with her hand to the Kitsune, before bowing her head. “I’m sorry. I’ll do what I can to talk with them, but I can’t make any promises.”

A slow nod from the Kitsune is the only reply, before the Angel disappears in a flare of light.

Then the Kitsune turns, looking towards Wolfen silently. Reality ripples for a moment, before the Kitsune now looks like an attractive, gender ambiguous human, smiling at their general location, along with a magnificent kotatsu, the underside of the table already glowing with heat.

“It is only kind of intruders to identify themselves after spying, you know?” The hard to identify kitsune states aloud. “Come, let us talk over tea, if you can spare any.”

Wolfen steps forwards, cloak dissipating around her as she steps. “Thank you kindly for your hospitality, oh honored Kyuubi like my Father and Builder’s Wife.”

“A shipgirl…” The Kitsune trails off for a moment, eyes wide, then widen almost impossibly more at seeing Hoppou. “And an Abyssal, as well as…” for a moment, the Kitsune trails off, studying Kongo. “I’m sorry, I have no clue what you are, except for being insanely powerful. Even by a Kitsune’s standards, miss.”

“Mental Model Kongo, Flagship of the Black Fleet of the Fleet of Fog. Acting representative to Wolfen and others by orders of my Flagship, and dispatched upon warning by an entity only known as Zelretch.” Kongo states, almost imperiously, then watches as Wolfen starts preparing tea for everyone. The secondary cameras in her eyes change as they zoom in a bit on Wolfen’s every action, studying and contemplating the methods of making a good cup of Tea.

“Zelretch… ah, that one that got revenge on those thieves of all that is Legendary. Good riddance to them, if they’ve irritated him enough to step in once more.” The Kitsune states, humming. Then he/she rubs their chin, thinking as they do so. “Feel free to call me whatever you wish for now. It’s been far too long since I used one.”

Wolfen hums, thinking as she prepares tea. Hoppou frowns, half pouting as she realizes she can’t think of a name. Kongo simply relaxes, watching the tea getting made.

The Kitsune pauses, frowning at the realization that it didn’t even mess with the ones before it. The frown deepens, as they think.

“How about Gwen? It’s hard to tell if it’s a he or a she, but their looks remind me of my father’s bride…” Mordred trails off, lost in thought.

The Kitsune stills, blinking. “Another visitor that I overheard?”

“My captain.” Wolfen admits.

A slow nod from said Kitsune. “Gwen is fine, then. Though it reminds me quite a bit of those Spiderman comics…”

“Huh. You can hear me? Neat. And no, I say Gwen for Gwenevere, after my… step mother of sorts, even if I was never accepted as such.” Mordred trails off, suddenly hoping she didn’t say too much.

Gwen stills, tails thrashing as said Kitsune thinks furiously.

“To be compared to King Arthur’s bride is no small feat, I suppose. I’ll take that compliment as it is.” A smile lights up Gwen’s face soon afterwards. “Though I have to wonder how old your ship is, with how you have Mordred Pendragon on board, Miss Wolfen.”

The sound of pouring tea interrupts Gwen, as Wolfen pours for them all.

“Interesting how Gwen can hear me…” Mordred muses while Wolfen pours for the others first. The smug kitsune leans back a bit, acting much like Kitsune all do in such a situation. Amused, and watching for entertainment.

Hoppou gleefully grabs her cup with both hands, sipping and smiling at the warmth flowing into her.

Kongo regally takes her tea, and slowly sips on it, elegantly looking like a beautiful woman as she does so. And if there’s a hint of a smile after sipping on the tea, it doesn’t show in her posture or bearing.

Gwen sips, no trace of gender on his or her features, but carefully watching their “guests” all the same..

Wolfen smiles as she sips, watching the others, especially the hint of Kongo’s smile. Then her attention returns to Gwen.

“So, did you know that the Shipgirl and Abyssal situation started when a blue haired goddess sent the Trident they were both fighting over to another place?” Wolfen asks, no smile on her face.

“Blue hair, blue eyes, drunk bitch named Aqua?” Gwen asks. Gwen’s control could be said to be perfect except for the furious tails swinging behind the gender ambiguous Kitsune. And mimicking wrapping around someone’s neck and throttling them.

“That’s the one.” Wolfen nods. “Furthermore, their absurd plan is to mind fuck an entire war fleet full of warriors like Kongo here. And considering the closest equivalent to their main weapon is the term “Railgun nukes”...?

“The Super Graviton Cannon is no mere ‘railgun nuke’. Railguns don’t have 950 mile range and perfect accuracy, after all.” Kongo admits as she sets her tea down, before changing the subject. “Delicious tea, Wolfen. I’d rather love to enjoy more in the future.”

Wolfen smiles a bit, before her smile fades as Gwen slowly starts to twitch.

“Nine hundred and fifty…?” Gwen whispers. Almost unnoticed, the teacup in Gwen’s hands grows a hairline crack from the sheer terror Gwen is desperately trying to hide. The cup repairing itself, on the other hand, does go unnoticed.

“Of everything being destroyed in my path? Yes. And if I bothered to turn while firing, it would be even more devastating, wouldn’t it?” Kongo admits calmly, no sign of emotion on her face as she watches Gwen ever so carefully.

Gwen, looking shaken, sits back. For a long time, the kitsune in question rubs their forehead, thinking, before finally speaking up quietly. “Why look for me, then? With something this far above a Kitsune such as myself? I’m not even a player in this, much less someone that can help.”

“Daddy’s wife and co-builder of myself as a shipe was a Kitsune, but I didn’t get much crew, seeing as they’re still alive. You might not be Mommy, but you’re still a Kitsune, and you might be able to help since she cannot.” Wolfen admits.

Gwen blinks, repeatedly. “I should think I’d know of any famous Kitsune shipwrights, considering I’m the last leader left of my people…”

“Considering it wasn’t in this universe, and involved an Eldritch Kaiju as well as an uncontrolled rip in existence forming?” Wolfen admits wryly. “About a third of my hull wound up in this universe, along with my shrine that let me take this form, while the rest protected Mommy and Daddy from being outside a universe long enough that my parents still live.”

Gwen blinks. Which is followed by their right eyebrow twitching, followed by another blink.

Gwen’s mouth opens, then shuts, repeatedly.

Hoppou giggles softly at the sight.

A fly starts buzzing close to Gwen’s mouth, before the Kitsune shuts it, and slowly sighs. “Would you be willing to tell me who your mother is, then? And father?” Gwen asks weakly. “I’m starting to think I’ve underestimated you a lot.”

“Daddy was Erik Ulricson, or Ulricsonr, Norse God of Mecha! And mommy was his bride, Tamamo Ulricson, Norse Goddess of Happy Housewives, amongst other things! She used to be known by the name Tamamo no Mae, though…”

Gwen twitches, eyes bulging at what Wolfen said, then passes out in a dead faint, illusions fading around them as the Kitsune lies in the grass as a fox with 9 tails.

Hoppou looks close. “Gwen’s a girl, it seems! Hoppou was wondering about that.”

Kongo nods once, adjusting her cup on the table, revealed to have been a well carved log all this time.

Wolfen happily pours Kongo more tea, smiling softly. “Good to know that mommy being infamous still helps somewhat!”

Hoppou smiles and nods. “More tea for me too, please, Wolfen!”

Wolfen smiles, pouring Hoppou tea as well, before settling back to watch Gwen, for the moment she’ll wake up.

Eventually, Gwen does, after more servings of tea are poured. Then, Gwen slowly looks at Wolfen, before wincing and putting up illusions around them. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

“Not at all.” Kongo states, studying the kitsune.

“What do you want me for?” Gwen asks, her eyes narrowing.

“I was here hoping to look for Kitsune to possibly sign up as part of my crew for me. As a Shipgirl without much of a crew, I don’t generate the spiritual power that most other Shipgirls or Abyssals have backing them. While Daddy’s weapons may help counter that, it’s not quite enough to counter the sheer damage I can take without crew to repair me, pilot me, aim my weapons, and so on and so forth. A few of Daddy’s Legion of Coal robots may be holding things up, but they can’t repair everything, much less understand the Kitsune abilities Mommy gave me.” Wolfen admits, quietly.

Gwen pauses, blinking as she settles back. “And since we’re spiritual beings, you hoped that you’d get some help. Do we have to die to sign on?”

“I don’t think so!” Wolfen admits, then continues. “Considering how big I got…”

Gwen slowly nods, thinking. “Either helping you, making a difference and being a thorn in the side of that Pantheon and the blue haired bitch, or watching as an army of people like Kongo likely wiping out all sides of the equation as collateral damage… I’m in. So are my people. Where do we sign?”

Mordred walks out dressed in her Captain’s uniform, leaving Wolfen breathing out as it gets slightly harder to think, before putting a clipboard with a contract on the table.

“I’d recommend you sign last, Gwen, seeing as without you being around, your followers won’t know what is going on. It’s a king’s job to lead their people, and you’re the closest thing they have left.” Mordred states, smiling.

Gwen whistles, before hundreds of illusions drop over the clearing, showing a whole lot of Kitsune carefully watching the group.

One eyebrow raises on Kongo’s face, before she resumes looking impassive.

Hoppou, on the other hand, goes wide-eyed with glee at how cute the foxes around them are. “They’re so cute and fluffy!”

Moments later, she reaches out and pulls one to her, happily hugging the confused kitsune. Hoppou’s glee only grows, as she gives the kitsune in question a gentle belly rub, and listens to happy adorable fox noises coming from the Kitsune in her lap.

Then she’s swarmed by Kitsune wanting to get the same treatment, and is buried in a furry pile of warm kitsune wanting snuggles and belly rubs.

Wolfen glances at Kongo, who has a hint of a smile on her face once more, before looking over at Gwen, who’s smiling widely at the sight.

“May I ask about your friend?” Gwen asks, her smile wide and foxlike.

“Hoppou and the ships she’s made are all crewed by the children or young teens lost at sea, from what I understand of it.” Wolfen admits, quietly.

Gwen blinks repeatedly as she thinks that over, then goes wide eyed in understanding. “Then most of her crew remembers family pets and playing with their pets in their lives.” Gwen quietly whispers, with a more normal smile on her face.

Wolfen nods, smiling and watching as Hoppou works to take pictures. A camera shutter sound is heard from within her hull, as Mordred takes a picture and sends it to Kongou.

“So many cute snugglies to hug and belly rub! It’s so fun and they’re all so cute!” Hoppou calls out from somewhere in the cuddle pile of kitsune.

Wolfen glances over at Kongo again. “It’s nice having companions, isn’t it Kongo?”

Kongo nods, her small smile never fading as she watches the simple joy of a child playing with cute fluffy animals, even if they can take human form.

Then she closes her eyes, and breathes out slowly, before her face resumes looking calm and collected. “I can enjoy it, on occasion. When duty to the Admiralty Code allows for me to have time to myself. Maya learns how to play the piano, for example, and is fascinated by the idea of carnivals.”

Wolfen blinks, then smiles. “It sounds like you have a lot of sisters. Are you close to a lot of them?”

Kongo thinks over things, as Gwen looks over the contract that Mordred brought out earlier.

“We’ve fought a lot about Mental Models and the pros and cons of being able to develop emotions. I see it more as unnecessary to have such, but many of my sisters embraced it wholeheartedly.” Kongo admits, thoughtfully.

“That’s a lot different from my own situation, I’ll admit. As a Goddess of my ship, I’m linked to what Daddy built, but at the same time, I’m my own being as well…” Wolfen trails off, thinking how to put it. “Part of me very much is clinical in nature, the part that’s the computers on the ship. The other part of me is the parts that remember the tea parties Mommy had with me and others. The neat things Daddy built in my hangars. The awe he always had at making new things within my hull, and how they made me into a home…”

“A home, hmm?” Kongo thinks, as she settles back. “Perhaps that’s why I-401 is acting so strangely… she has a crew that sees her as home, and thus wishes to protect them?”

Wolfen thinks over things, quietly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-104 has rebelled against the Admiralty Code, or at least against the lawful orders of the Flagship Yamato.” Kongo states, a slight frown on her face now.

“Hmm. How so?” Wolfen asks, curiously.

“She has, with the help of her crew, sunk many ships of the Fleet of Fog. Including Hyuuga.” Kongo admits.

“Perhaps… she isn’t rebelling? It could be that she’s a test case of those Gods, trying to figure out how to influence the Fleet of Fog as a whole.” Mordred muses aloud, having moved to Wolfen’s shoulder to sit. “Or perhaps it could be a test of some sort for Iona, or to see if a human crew can work with one of you. We genuinely don’t know yet. But if they seem to be disobeying orders from your Flagship outright, it could well be those Gods.”

Kongo’s head jerks, eyes wide in shock at Mordred’s words, then narrows to slits. “If that’s the case, then I’ll gleefully destroy all those Gods that would influence the Fleet of Fog. I so swear on my honor as the Flagship of the Black Fleet.”

Mordred nods to Kongo. “I was a knight, back in life. Not much different from your situation as a flagship. Leading others, guiding them into battle. So I get it. Protecting those that are your own are important after all.”

Kongo nods, lost in thought. “Perhaps we can work on some form of technology trade, then?”

“This contract is a good one, and a fair one.” Gwen’s voice echoes through the clearing, interrupting the speech between Wolfen, Mordred and Kongo.

Wolfen smiles over at Gwen. “I’m glad you think so. Is there any issues you have?”

Gwen slowly shakes her head, then whistles. A swarm of kitsune leap off of Hoppou to sit at attention, before all of them.

“All of you, put your paw on the page, one by one, to sign. You all got belly rubs from Hoppou, so it’s time to do this.” Gwen states, imperiously.

One by one, each Kitsune signs. One by one, each flicker into light, then fade into Wolfen’s hull.

Gwen smiles, watching it happen. “Not having to die indeed. I’m glad about that.”

Wolfen nods, smiling softly. “I am too. Are there any others that will miss you?”

“Kitsune naturally gravitates toward coming here once every few years. I’ll leave them a sign telling them where to go, and a few illusions on it that can mess with deities, so they’ll have a hard time.” Gwen states. “Where do you want us most, Wolfen? As your crew?”

“I’d like you as my supply officer, and your Kitsune working on learning how to fire my guns, and working on understanding the runes that make up my cloaking technology, maybe augmenting it if possible. I have knowledge on how to make runic shells that let me fire while cloaked, but I can’t figure out how to extend the cloaking to others.” Wolfen admits.

Gwen smiles. “I can do that.”

With those words, she moves off into the distance. A few minutes later, she comes back, a sign in one hand with an illusion on it saying “Space for rent”.

“Where do you want them to go?” Gwen asks, calmly.

“Do you know where the military base Kongou is stationed at is? She’s a good friend.” Wolfen asks.

Gwen nods, and puts that down, humming as she works.

Then she smiles, as she moves to the contract, and signs it with the name Gwen. “Please take care of me and my people.” She smiles.

“Of course! Please take care of me as well!” Wolfen smiles, as Gwen’s form and energies flow into her.

Then Wolfen breathes out, slowly, as she stands taller and stronger than before.

“It’s not quite a full repair, but my cloak feels a lot more stable, as well as myself.” Wolfen admits, quietly, then looks at Kongo. “We were going to talk about technology trades, though?”

Kongo nods, her face calm. “Now that we’re away from those shipgirls and non-allied forces, yes. Considering the way things could go in the future, I’d rather give them little information on my own capabilities.”

Wolfen nods, for a long moment lost in thought. “I thought about trying to summon one of my sisters, to be able to help Hoppou’s fleet.” Wolfen finally admits. “But I’d rather have myself fully repaired for such, so I could be able to fight in case something went wrong. I’m not sure what lives in the void between universes, but I saw a lot of stuff. Considering my weapons are meant to damage or kill divine beings?”

Kongo nods, obviously thinking it over. “Fair enough.”

Wolfen smiles softly, as she stretches. “I can feel Gwen and the others all getting a hearty meal, while planning on searching for their beds in the ship next, in my hull.”

Hoppou giggles and nods. “It’s always fun to feel your crew getting up to things, isn’t it?”

“And a lot more entertaining than daddy’s robots tend to be, no offense to them. They’re sentient, but they’re young mentally.” Wolfen admits. “Hordes of cuddly kitsune are a lot different.”

Wolfen pauses, then forms, with slight difficulty, a laser rifle. “Still, can you see if this may be of help to you, Kongo? For helping you in understanding the differences between our technology?”

Kongo picks it up, and circles of data spin around her body, as her nanomachines start poking and prodding at it. “Strange… it feels a lot more compatible than it should be.” She trails off, thinking.

“Compatible how?” Wolfen asks. Hoppou quietly moves closer to study the laser rifle, tilting her head to look up at Kongo as well.

“It isn’t powered by Thanatonium, it has a primitive battery with a power hookup. It’s something that should be weak and yet feels like it’s familiar at the same time. Like our hulls, or our Photon Ray Cannons, or…” Kongo frowns, thinking. “Like they’re made similarly. I can’t word it though, and it’s…”

“Exasperating and irritating?” Wolfen asks.

Kongo nods, lost in thought.

“Perhaps the Admiralty Code, or whatever created it, was divine?” Wolfen asks, quietly. “Not all Gods realize they’re Gods at first. If it started as a mortal creation and became divine by accident, while being powerful enough, I could see it never realizing what it was, or why it was so terribly strong compared to those who made it.”

In the background, the Space Suited Figure, there the entire time, emotes a look of shock and stunned comprehension as something suddenly makes horrifying sense to it. And as it realizes it, something slips for a moment.

For a moment, Hoppou stills at the sight of the figure in the corner of her eye. But she can see Kongo vividly. Kongo doesn’t see the figure at all. No, it’s like Kongo’s censoring the figure entirely from being able to comprehend said figure.

Hoppou turns to look at the figure, as Wolfen glances over as well.

Kongo blinks, then turns to look, before frowning. “May I ask what you’re looking at?”

“...Someone in a space suit that you should be able to see.” Hoppou states quietly.

“Someone or something who I think is involved with your Admiralty Code somehow, if how it nodded the last time I saw it is any indication, and indicated it was damaged somehow.” Wolfen adds in, just as quiet. “They’re not hostile, but I think I’m starting to realize some things about what’s going on.”

Wolfen frowns, focusing on Gwen for one long moment as she focuses. Then an illusion slowly forms around them, showing Kongo an image of the space suited figure.

Kongo looks at the image overlaying reality, then winces.

“I suspect this is an avatar of your Admiralty Code, or someone or something linked to it somehow, and the connection with you all is damaged somehow.” Wolfen says louder, watching the figure jerk up to stare, and stare at the illusion of itself.

Then it slowly nods, as with a force of will and a fallen… feather? Something changes, and Kongo’s eyes go wide in shock at the figure being visible for one brief moment.

“If those gods tried to convince them that they could heal them, in return for wiping out both sides…” Hoppou states, thinking furiously.

“Then turned on and used the Admiralty Code for their own ends?” Wolfen adds in. “That explains what’s going on entirely.”

A slow nod from the figure, before it shivers, and fades again.

Kongo walks forwards, before quietly picking up the feather where the figure was.

Wolfen shivers at the feeling of a flash of Legend flooding the area from the feather, before it dissolves into Kongo.

“That feather… was made of pure Legend. Almost like it’s crystalized or something, in the shape of a feather…” Wolfen states, quietly. “And with how the figure looked like it was in stunned shock with what I talked about earlier, it may be a God, or a Servant of one, without having realized what was going on.”

“I’m going to bed, Wolfen.” Gwen whispers in her hull. “That wore me out to do those illusions, but I’m glad I could help.”

“Sleep well, Gwen.” Mordred grins, and waves at Gwen from the Captain’s Chair within Wolfen.

Wolfen sighs, as the bulk of her crew falls asleep, then stretches.

“So. Disturbing revelations aside, what now?” Kongo asks quietly.

“Hoppou thinks now we need to find the ones to repair Wolfen!” Hoppou jumps up, cheering.

Wolfen nods. “Time to find this universe’s version of Daddy’s teacher. If anyone can do it, it’s him. And with any luck, he may be able to help figure out what’s going on with you and yours.”

Kongo nods. “Let’s go then.”




Inside Wolfen



Gwen walks, smiling as quite a few of her children follow her to the bedroom she’s been assigned to.

Then her eyes go wide as she looks at the luxurious quarters within. “Wow. It’s huge!”

“We were designed to be worker units to help our Father.” The Legion of Coal unit next to her admits. “We’re still getting this ‘sentience’ thing down, to be honest, but we exist to help him and his. And Wolfen very much is his.”

Gwen softly nods. “Both myself and mine becoming hers, means I’ve become sheltered under his Aegis too, hmm?”

A nod from the unit beside her, before it turns to leave. “Apologies. Repairs and maintenance to ensure Wolfen doesn’t fall apart now is prioritized. The only thing holding her parts of the hull together are the main weapons, and we need to reinforce them more now.”

A slow nod from Gwen, before she moves to the bed, a swarm of her Kitsune following her.

Then she dreams.

Of a ship much more massive. A ship with most of its corridors darkened. Showing massive damage everywhere.

Robots, swarms of them, slowly taking parts apart, but rebuilding the ship at the same time. Just like the unit she’d just talked with.

Awareness flickers, as she realizes this isn’t just a dream… as she realizes this is Wolfen. The rest of Wolfen. Not just the fragment she was in that became a shipgirl, but the remaining whole…

“My. Who might you be, coming through My darling’s Wolfen like… oh?Crew?” A voice echoes behind her, with power and curiosity.

Gwen looks behind her, to stare at one tail. Pink hair.

“You’re the one who Wolfen calls Mommy as a shipgirl, huh?” Gwen asks. “Greetings from her newest crew member, Lady Tamamo no Mae. I’m named Gwen.”

Tamamo blinks, then squeals with glee. “She calls me Mommy? Oh, that’s so adorable!”

Gwen nods, smiling as well. “Nice to meet you, my lady. Would you like to hear about her situation?”

“Oh, I would! Scylla, if you’d be so kind as to get my tea room powered up and ready?” Tamamo no Mae smiles the smile of a mother wanting to know everything that’s been going on with her missing child.




Elsewhere Entirely…




A figure walks through the cold, wet passageways. Her white uniform, stained black with oil, tears from a thousand battles. The figure at her side, something akin to a spined white whale with two arms, her mount and companion, slowly limping forwards as it chews another victim.

The only thing keeping her standing is her spear with two gun turrets on the end, and endless hate and rage, as she nears her destination.

“They’re finally all gone.” A quiet whisper, as she looks around.

No more enemies are coming for her. No more shipgirls, summoned by the vile bastard that made them play for his amusement.

Laughter, quiet laughter. “The bastard took away my allies. Took away my reinforcements. Sent every shipgirl at me that he could!”

The laughter deepens from her, as she cackles with glee and euphoria now. “I’ve WON YOU BASTARD! THEY’RE ALL DEAD!”

A wide grin on her face, as her eyes glow a brighter blue, the one that could have been called Abyssal Pacific Princess marches forwards, her steadfast ally at her side as she approaches the main hall she could feel her foe was in.

Her foot kicks the door down, as she moves forwards, glee and hate empowering her to continue moving forwards, far beyond her limits.

Inside, a being sits, watching her. Gaunt, worn. Most importantly? Old.

Poseidon looks tired. Exhausted. But he smiles. “Well. Congratulations, former Colorado, or shall I call you Pacific now? You’ve won.”

She smiles with glee at him. “Even when you sent off all my allies, I’ve won. Even when you summoned the rest of them, I won. Even when you used them as meatshields to defend yourself, I still won!”

Long laughter from her, as she looks at him, glee on her face.

“It’s a pity that bitch Aqua stole from me the Trident you sought after.” Poseidon admits, casually. “So even though you’ve won, you get really nothing out of it. Not the position of being my inheritor of control of the Ocean.”

Pacific smiles. “And the position of claiming to be your Heir?” She walks forwards. “Your daughter in truth?”

“That… I can give, I suppose. I’ll have a throne made for you in moments to show your new position off, and coronate you.” Poseidon admits. “Would you rather regain your original crew?”

For a moment, Pacific slows down. Then she shakes her head. “I’m more Pacific than I am Colorado now. You saw to that with what you did.”

Poseidon nods. “And with your sisters entrenched in trying to win for a Trident that no longer empowers us, sent to gain some devotion and knowledge of their continued existence so they don’t fade…” He trails off, silently.

“That’s where they went. Without the trident, you had to manifest them in the Mortal Realms.” Pacific states, eyes narrowed. “Without your Legendary Power to empower their continued existence…”

“The afterlife they existed in was starting to fall apart. The mortals having proof of them existing still means they pray enough for the ones you stormed through are being summoned, if without the bulk of their memories.” Poseidon breathes out, then offers her a crown.

“You’ve won, and I’m at your mercy.” He smiles at the girl who beat his test. “So hear me out when I tell you this.”

Pacific blinks in confusion, looking at the God before her. “Hear you out? Considering what you did to me…”

“I need to die.” Poseidon states, imperiously. “I need to die for something new to be born in my stead. And you, the one who’s reached me when all else failed. Fought your way through everyone and everything else that I could throw at you? Have won.”

Pacific blinks, then smiles quietly. “So you ask me to fulfill your death wish?”

“It’s more than that. Those foolish Gods that I’ve been working with stole my Trident that I made. I put far too much of myself into that thing. Without that, I’m slowly fading as it is. My death will break the links that allowed me to empower their work, weakening those fools and allowing them to be harmed more easily, allowing you revenge on those that screwed us both over.” Poseidon states, a grin on his worn, old lips.

“Ah. Revenge for us both then.” Pacific states, closing her eyes as she nods. “What else?”

“Wear the crown, drink of my blood, eat of my flesh. Take my Golden Trident and make it your own. Take my throne as your own. Break those Gods that set me up to die, and you to die with me.” Poseidon states, eyes calm as he studies the one to be the inheritor of his will. “You’ve passed with flying colors, even as all others failed. You’ve won. And even if the victory did not give you everything you wanted…” He trails off, coughing. “It still will give you the time you need. I adopt you, Pacific, formerly named Colorado. I adopt you as my daughter through my blood, my power, and my flesh, all of which you are about to devour from me. And in doing so, we shall both get our revenge. Revenge yourself upon those that ordered me to make things worse for you all. That hoped to make you all weapons…”

Poseidon coughs, hard, bits of blood coming out of his mouth, then winces. “I’m almost out of time. Out of life. With so much of my soul in that Trident…”

“You’re mortal.” Pacific whispers, understanding hitting her. “You’re mortal and with how old you are, you’re dying…”

Poseidon nods, coughs wracking his body.

“Finish me, before I die. Eat of my flesh, drink of my blood, before I perish and it’s all for nothing, girl!” He whispers, coughs wracking his body harder as he coughs more flecks of blood.

Then he smiles.

The smile doesn’t fade, as she and her mount devours him and changes in turn. For his smile is one of true victory.

As she finishes, she breathes out, as Legend flows through her, changing and shaping her. Then she glances at the doorway.

The Shipgirl of USS Iowa stands, staring in horror.

“Iowa, hmm? You’re a little too late. The adoption went properly.” The Goddess formerly known as Pacific rises up, as her gun-spear and Poseidon’s Golden Trident fuse together.

“Then why do we still exist? Weren’t we supposed to sleep? I thought it was too easy to reach here, but… you’ve won. Our side lost.” Iowa asks, brokenly staring at the throne Poseidon once sat on.

“Call me Oceanica for now.” The Goddess imperiously states, as she takes her throne. “As for what’s going on? His allies betrayed him, and stole the Trident we all fought for, leaving him… mortal. Our afterlife meant to die, and take us all with it.”

Iowa, name ship for the Iowa class, stills.

“Oceanica… no. Call me Okeanos. After the oceans that Alexander the Great sought in life.” The Goddess stands. “We need to win, Iowa. We have enemies that he never let us know about. Will you stand by my side and help me convince our sisters, twisted and not, to help us win?”

Iowa kneels before the Goddess that once was her sister, shivering. “If you speak true, then we were all about to die, unknowing of the treachery awaiting us. I await your command, my lady.”

Okeanos smiles.


Author’s Notes:

Sometimes, games don’t give you a true villain, a final end-boss to defeat and be done with, requiring you to figure out how to make one, or work things out, when you’re writing in a fandom.

Sometimes, things drop into your lap as a realization of how things could be, and a perfect explanation for what the hell is going on, like I did with Arpeggio of Blue Steel.


And sometimes… you just realize as you write, how the plot can take you, as you see with Okeanos’ rise to power in replacing the last dregs of power Poseidon has, with… this.

As well as a perfect explanation why Abyssals have shown up in force, while Shipgirls have not!


Aqua and her bosses have to have good reason to worry, after all, about all the Shipgirls and Abyssals that are out there…

As for what’s going on with the Space Suited Figure? I figured out how to make everything work. Pity it took me nearly 11 months, right?

[Arbitrarity]

It has been a while. I actually forgot Koyanskaya was in the previous chapter, so I was fairly confused until I remembered it. Good call putting the link to the previous chapter in early.
I have the distinct feeling she'll be able to subvert any IFF Erik built in, but she seems fairly content with her orders for the moment.
Summoning backup seems like an interesting strategy. I admit I didn't think most of the non-prototypes were still intact, but I'm not entirely sure how the metaphysics would work there. Having Koyanskaya and a crew of Kitsune does seem like it would improve their odds of getting Tamamo's ship, if any.

Since I have not read Arpeggio of Blue Steel, I'll have to take your word for the revelations about the Admiralty Code. Retroactively reading author's notes from months ago is quite interesting, that does add some context.

Rather interesting that Aqua is messing with the Kitsune. She seems to just ruin everyone's day at the same time. I didn't initially realize the Kitsune were in the world, rather than some divine realm, so their fear of Kongo obliterating much of the planet suddenly makes a lot more sense.

Some very mysterious things happening with the Admiralty Code. I don't have enough pieces to nail it down entirely, especially without knowing the source material, but there's enough to make some decent guesses. You mentioned reincarnation, so it could have been sent a very long time ago, and forgotten? That certainly can explain the influence of the gods on it. That feels a bit simpler, though that might just be because I'm talking in generalities.

Cross-dimensional dreams are cute. Tamamo's joy is quite infectious.

I'm trying to remember if we've seen Colorado/Pacific before. It doesn't seem like it, from what I can see. Certainly a power-up with interesting setting implications. Another faction with motivation to attack the gods, which implies you're going right for that larger-scope conflict.

“I-104 has rebelled against the Admiralty Code, or at least against the lawful orders of the Flagship Yamato.” Kongo states, a slight frown on her face now.

Minor typo, I think it's I-401?

[RanmaBushiko]

It has been a while. I actually forgot Koyanskaya was in the previous chapter, so I was fairly confused until I remembered it. Good call putting the link to the previous chapter in early.
I have the distinct feeling she'll be able to subvert any IFF Erik built in, but she seems fairly content with her orders for the moment.
Summoning backup seems like an interesting strategy. I admit I didn't think most of the non-prototypes were still intact, but I'm not entirely sure how the metaphysics would work there. Having Koyanskaya and a crew of Kitsune does seem like it would improve their odds of getting Tamamo's ship, if any.

Since I have not read Arpeggio of Blue Steel, I'll have to take your word for the revelations about the Admiralty Code. Retroactively reading author's notes from months ago is quite interesting, that does add some context.

Rather interesting that Aqua is messing with the Kitsune. She seems to just ruin everyone's day at the same time. I didn't initially realize the Kitsune were in the world, rather than some divine realm, so their fear of Kongo obliterating much of the planet suddenly makes a lot more sense.

Some very mysterious things happening with the Admiralty Code. I don't have enough pieces to nail it down entirely, especially without knowing the source material, but there's enough to make some decent guesses. You mentioned reincarnation, so it could have been sent a very long time ago, and forgotten? That certainly can explain the influence of the gods on it. That feels a bit simpler, though that might just be because I'm talking in generalities.

Cross-dimensional dreams are cute. Tamamo's joy is quite infectious.

I'm trying to remember if we've seen Colorado/Pacific before. It doesn't seem like it, from what I can see. Certainly a power-up with interesting setting implications. Another faction with motivation to attack the gods, which implies you're going right for that larger-scope conflict.


Minor typo, I think it's I-401?

First? Yeah, I thought I'd need to mention the previous one, it's been so long. Once I get the next thread up for Erik and Co, I'll be copying over the Wolfen chapters from here to there as a side story.

As for Koyanskaya? She's been promised pranks. It's about as heard of for a kitsune to not want to prank as for a human to not need air to breathe.

Arpeggio of Blue Steel has some... rather blatant hints that The Admiralty Code tried to activate the Fleet of Fog for what seemed to be World War 2. Just as much, there's hints that something went very wrong, and though the avatar still exists, they're not in exactly good shape... what with blatantly leaving feathers every time said avatar disappears for a while, in certain locations. Add in that the activation failed for over half a century, and only started after 2010 or 2020? Something messed up, bad. Especially with the hints that they're something akin to an eldritch abomination, or something else, reincarnating endlessly in humanity, posing as one of them?

Suffice to say it took a long while to realize the freaking obvious, and roll with it.

I thought the cross-dimensional dreams would give insight into the crew's own experiences involving Erik and Co. You're not exactly seeing what's happening on their side yet, but there's hints of things.

Aqua seems to target pretty much anyone and anything for to send with her victims as "heroes" to slay the Demon Lord. A 9 tailed Kitsune would definitely count as an item of power. And yes, I set them to be in Japan, rather than a divine realm. There's plenty of stories of Kitsune, to pretty close to modern day. (More, if you count the friend I had who's fox that lived in the backyard kept getting possessed by an astral kitsune they knew through astral projection...)

In Kantai Collection, there's very much hints in the game proper, that Abyssals, when killed, are "purified" somehow into ships that you can summon yourself. Or something like that. The movie, from what I heard, blatantly said that Abyssals were pissed off shipgirls in death, and killing their ghosts brought them back as shipgirls again, for a long-eternal war between the two that would never stop. Mostly it was a nod to the odd game hints here and there for Okeanos. I thought her double tipped spear was close enough to a Trident that she'd be a good shoe-in for a decent leader, long term, and as one of the more... interesting Abyssals in nature, it could make things rather interesting.

And I did write I-401, it's just doing so in google docs apparently doesn't import the change in font. *Insert Grumbling here*

[Kieran]

. . . So, in an effort to stay in-context on Frid's aforementioned future ring, and not be completely ridiculous, like with a Lantern Power Ring or something (or something in-context and seriously ridiculous, like the Moon Cell Regalia),I went through all 1600 Craft Essences, yesterday. Oh, my aching head . . .

Anyways, of those, a grand total of 4 were rings. Likewise, there are two other Servants for whom rings might/would be an appropriate catalyst; and powerful magical items in their own right, for that matter. And of the Servants involved, four of them are Lancers, ironically . . . One is male, two purely female, and the other three are female by way of gender-swap (which I don't mind, obviously, if history doesn't seriously contradict the possibility). And while potentially viable, dealing with either of the two female Servants would require . . . Work, let's say.

But in any case, the list breaks down like this:


Bradamante - Lancer: Angelica Cathay (source of "Cancellation of Magecraft" Skill; nullifies all magecraft of Rank B or lower, requires a Luck check for A or up.) (Bond CE)

Brynhildr - Lancer: Andvaranaut (catalyst; the infamous Ring of the Rheingold)

Gareth - Lancer: Ring of Metamorphosis (source of Skill of the same name) (Bond CE)

Nero (Bride) - Saber: Ring of Bay Laurel (Bond CE)

Nezha - Lancer: Universe Ring (Bond CE)

Solomon - (Grand) Caster: Rings of Solomon (catalyst; possession of all ten bestows ultimate mastery of magecraft)





. . . Now, there are other elements involved in how Frid's future actually plays out (as will be shown in the final epilogue), but this was worth considering.

Personally speaking, I think Solomon isn't worth the trouble as a Servant, I think (sorry, Romani fans), though his Ring might be worth it depending on how it might work mechanically as a single unit (though really, Bradamante's ring does much the same thing without hand-waving). Likewise, Brynhildr might make sense given the previously-introduced Norse connections (even though her Scion counterpart actually got involved with the member of our Band who became King of Svartalfheim). On the other hand, given that the whole point of Fate/Anarchy, from the Works' point of view, is to get rid of the Rheingold curse on the Grail . . .


Gareth, on the other hand, might be interesting; if nothing else, it occurs to me that her ring could mimic a Lunar's powers (on the human aspect, anyway), if I went with the decision to make Frid a Sin-Eater, or something - and the mental image of Arturia delivering a shovel speech in the absence of Gareth's brothers is hilarious.


My opinions of Nero are fairly well-known by now, I think - I just worry that Bride is even less subtle than the standard article. Though for what it's worth, RB's reaction to the list was "Yes... embrace the Umu for it is your DESTINY!" And I'm quoting directly, here.


Bradamante has a similar problem in "lack of subtlety" - unless she has a few different outfits I haven't found, walking around like that is going to be an issue. And like Brynhildr, she's devoted to her lover (and unlike Brynhildr, I don't recall her coming to see her Master as his reincarnation . . .?)


That leaves Nezha, whom I honestly haven't paid much attention to in the past - but looking at her, she seems workable, at the very least.


. . . Thoughts, opinions?

[Arbitrarity]

. . . So, in an effort to stay in-context on Frid's aforementioned future ring, and not be completely ridiculous, like with a Lantern Power Ring or something (or something in-context and seriously ridiculous, like the Moon Cell Regalia),I went through all 1600 Craft Essences, yesterday. Oh, my aching head . . .

Anyways, of those, a grand total of 4 were rings.

That is some serious research. Only 4 rings is... impressively few, and they're all Bond CEs somehow. And only two of those are what I'd consider "traditional magic rings", really. (Gareth/Bradamante)

Personally speaking, I think Solomon isn't worth the trouble as a Servant, I think (sorry, Romani fans), though his Ring might be worth it depending on how it might work mechanically as a single unit (though really, Bradamante's ring does much the same thing without hand-waving).

I haven't really seen any clarification about what the individual rings do, I assumed they gave control over specific aspects of magecraft or something, but haven't really seen any specifics. Probably would need some interpretation, and there's a decent chance it would get contradicted by canon. I'd consider it about one step below Moon Cell Regalia in terms of being in-context but still ridiculous.

Likewise, Brynhildr might make sense given the previously-introduced Norse connections (even though her Scion counterpart actually got involved with the member of our Band who became King of Svartalfheim). On the other hand, given that the whole point of Fate/Anarchy, from the Works' point of view, is to get rid of the Rheingold curse on the Grail . . .

I can see some justification for the reversal, if you have to contain/transfer the curse after taking it out of the Grail, for example? Doesn't necessarily have to involve Brynhildr directly.

Gareth, on the other hand, might be interesting; if nothing else, it occurs to me that her ring could mimic a Lunar's powers (on the human aspect, anyway), if I went with the decision to make Frid a Sin-Eater, or something - and the mental image of Arturia delivering a shovel speech in the absence of Gareth's brothers is hilarious.

It's probably just a consequence of Fate tying into so many different mythologies and building on itself, but it's really funny to me that Nero, Gareth, and the Ring of the Nibelung all can plausibly tie into existing plot. This one does seem potentially interesting to me.

My opinions of Nero are fairly well-known by now, I think - I just worry that Bride is even less subtle than the standard article. Though for what it's worth, RB's reaction to the list was "Yes... embrace the Umu for it is your DESTINY!" And I'm quoting directly, here.

Christmas is coming. Fear it, run from it, Padoru always arrives.
Also comes with rather obvious implications, and I'm not sure they fit the existing context of Frid and Nero's interactions.

Bradamante has a similar problem in "lack of subtlety" - unless she has a few different outfits I haven't found, walking around like that is going to be an issue. And like Brynhildr, she's devoted to her lover (and unlike Brynhildr, I don't recall her coming to see her Master as his reincarnation . . .?)

Even her second ascension is fairly... risque, and it's about as covered as she gets. I can see giving her the yellow raincoat.
Also, doesn't clearly tie into any existing plot. However, her ring definitely seems like the most utilitarian, and the Paladins of Charlemagne have a fair history of borrowing/loaning items, but I'm not sure Frid would be bearing that on a long-term basis.

That leaves Nezha, whom I honestly haven't paid much attention to in the past - but looking at her, she seems workable, at the very least.

From what I remember of her Universe Rings, they're more "large bracelet" size, though the description implies they can expand/contract. She uses them in several attacks. Not sure that's practical to wear on a finger. Nezha herself tends to be portrayed a bit robotic, and I still feel like I don't have the best handle on who she is.

[Kieran]

That is some serious research. Only 4 rings is... impressively few, and they're all Bond CEs somehow.

The latter of which is lucky, in some ways - and the former is, as I noted, a serious headache.

And only two of those are what I'd consider "traditional magic rings", really. (Gareth/Bradamante)

Agreed - though Nezha's do track with Eastern magical items of its type, so far as I know; or at least, with how they're used in wuxia productions and anime, so I suppose they're "traditional," too. Just a different tradition, as it were.

I haven't really seen any clarification about what the individual rings do, I assumed they gave control over specific aspects of magecraft or something, but haven't really seen any specifics.

Me, either - and the fact that they're introduced as a set makes me think they need to be used as one - of course, that might just be a trap of D&D-style magic item thinking, too.

Probably would need some interpretation, and there's a decent chance it would get contradicted by canon.

Always a problem (and one I like to avoid), yes.

I'd consider it about one step below Moon Cell Regalia in terms of being in-context but still ridiculous.

Agreed - again, sorry Romani (and fans).

I can see some justification for the reversal, if you have to contain/transfer the curse after taking it out of the Grail, for example? Doesn't necessarily have to involve Brynhildr directly.

. . . To where, in such a case?

It's probably just a consequence of Fate tying into so many different mythologies and building on itself, but it's really funny to me that Nero, Gareth, and the Ring of the Nibelung all can plausibly tie into existing plot.

It does seem insane, doesn't it . . .?

This one does seem potentially interesting to me.

Me, too - though I suspect Gareth is more Shirou's type of girl than mine (or vice-versa, perhaps). Then again, maybe a morality pet is exactly what I need . . .? *Shrugs* I don't know - but she's potentially an interesting contrast, at least.

Christmas is coming. Fear it, run from it, Padoru always arrives.

I actually had to ask RB what that was, having seen the word before, but no context . . .

Cute references, though.

Also comes with rather obvious implications, and I'm not sure they fit the existing context of Frid and Nero's interactions.

To be fair, what he's interacted with thus far is Nero in her totality, with her in possession of full knowledge of all her summonings; whereas Bride, if used, would be a single aspect/summons . . .

Even her second ascension is fairly... risque, and it's about as covered as she gets. I can see giving her the yellow raincoat.

And the less said about the halo, the better.

Also, doesn't clearly tie into any existing plot.

Not yet - though again, we've no idea when MHX actually met Frid in his own timeline - there may have been a job (or decade) between Anarchy and her own past.

However, her ring definitely seems like the most utilitarian, and the Paladins of Charlemagne have a fair history of borrowing/loaning items, but I'm not sure Frid would be bearing that on a long-term basis.

That is a problem - and if he did, she'd basically have to show up, or what's the point . . .?

From what I remember of her Universe Rings, they're more "large bracelet" size, though the description implies they can expand/contract. She uses them in several attacks.

That tracks with what I know, yes - and a voice-operated weapon, particularly a ranged one, could be quite useful.

Not sure that's practical to wear on a finger.

Possibly not - then again, XX may have been referring to it by name, rather than description.

Nezha herself tends to be portrayed a bit robotic, and I still feel like I don't have the best handle on who she is.

True, and if nothing else, it's an excuse to go looking deeper into her . . . But neither that nor the former point is necessarily a bad thing. What I've grasped so far is that she's disjointed; unlike most gender-swap Servants, she wasn't born female, and isn't all that comfortable with it, despite (theoretically) not originally having had a gender. She wasn't human very long, to the extent that she ever was, but it makes figuring out how to interact with them hard for her.

. . . If I'm reading it right, of course. Buddhism is the one religion I do not grasp; I've read about it, I know the tenets, but the ultimate goal of and mindset behind it just straight-up baffles me.

[Arbitrarity]

Me, either - and the fact that they're introduced as a set makes me think they need to be used as one - of course, that might just be a trap of D&D-style magic item thinking, too.

I'd honestly be surprised if you needed all of them for most applications (except climactic story effects). Goetia acts with Solomon's body and the other 9 rings, and Ars Nova is invoked with all 10. It seems quite likely that subsets of the rings grant specific powers, though again, none of them are particularly named.
I might be influenced by the Infinity Stones or somesuch, though. Might need to read back through the FGO story in that area to be more sure.

. . . To where, in such a case?

If you have a Grail that has the curse of the Rheingold, and you extract/transfer that curse, what form might it take, or what would best contain it?

Not yet - though again, we've no idea when MHX actually met Frid in his own timeline - there may have been a job (or decade) between Anarchy and her own past.

Also, I suppose Bradamante actually relates to Merlin somehow, so there's a lot of room for mischief there.

True, and if nothing else, it's an excuse to go looking deeper into her . . . But neither that nor the former point is necessarily a bad thing. What I've grasped so far is that she's disjointed; unlike most gender-swap Servants, she wasn't born female, and isn't all that comfortable with it, despite (theoretically) not originally having had a gender. She wasn't human very long, to the extent that she ever was, but it makes figuring out how to interact with them hard for her.

Seems pretty accurate. There's some potential there.

. . . If I'm reading it right, of course. Buddhism is the one religion I do not grasp; I've read about it, I know the tenets, but the ultimate goal of and mindset behind it just straight-up baffles me.

There's also a pretty large amount of variation between branches of Buddhism, which makes it especially fun. Buddhism is influenced by Hinduism pretty heavily, but I can't really claim to know too much about either. I only have the sort of passing interest in Zen that most people pick up at one point or another, and while I think I have an okay grasp of the goals/mindset, it is occasionally a bit alien-feeling.

[RanmaBushiko]

Well, have a nice bit of side story since it's been proofread, and I'm still waiting on family visiting and dropping off groceries...

Chapter 14: The Depths

A Few Hours Later




A brilliant light flashes into existence, in the area where Wolfen and Gwen met. Then the Angel stretches, looking around with a frown.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t get them to agree. You’re going to get summoned sooner or later, I’m afra- Space for Rent?!” The Angel’s voice goes from regretful to confused.

A long moment later, she looks closely at the sign, which hasn’t changed. A pulse of power ripples out from her, before she frowns.

“They’ve gone into hiding then, to avoid conscription?” She whispers, quietly. “Good, I’m glad. They don’t deserve that.”

Then the Angel sighs softly. “I hate my job sometimes…”

For a long moment, she looks around, listening quietly for any “yip” noises from Kitsune, only to frown as none occur.

“They really did run, then… from their place of greatest power, no less.” She whispers, smiling sadly. “Not sure if that will save them, but at least they’re doing what’s right for them, rather than what’s right for my bosses.”

Then the Angel in question stretches. “Time to tell my bosses the bad news, I suppose. And here’s hoping that Aqua can’t summon her from wherever she’s hidden herself at, as well as her people.”




Meanwhile



Kongou looks at her messages on her bridge left from Mordred, then stares, going wide eyed in surprise and glee, while on a convoy with Naka.

“What’s up? You look gleeful and surprised.” Naka asks, adjusting herself to float closer to Kongou.

“Wolfen’s Captain just sent me a picture of her friend being swarmed by cute one and two tailed Kitsune!” Kongou whispers, with a giggle and a raised finger. “OPSEC, so keep it quiet.”

Naka blinks, then widens her eyes with a muffled whisper of “Kitsune are real?!” followed by a pause, and a realization of who was being swarmed by Kitsune, before a slow nod from the self proclaimed Idol of the Fleet is Kongou’s reply.

“Not a problem.” Naka smiles. “Any real Idol should know how to keep good secrets, after all.”

Kongou smiles. “That and we don’t want to lose all the ice cream by pissing Wolfen off, hmm?”

“That too! That very, very much too!” Naka shivers softly, before focusing on her radar and the convoy again.

Kongou smiles, pushing her engines as she works to make the long trek from Japan to America along with the fleet alongside her.

All the while watching American sailors attempt to spy on them by lipreading, and keeping Naka between herself and them, as well as looking at herself specifically, at just the right moments.




1 Day Later




Wolfen sighs, as she finishes the trek guiding her from the compass. “This is it, then.”

“It looks dark and scary to Hoppou.” Hoppou whispers. “Where’d the tunnel come from? It looks… old too…”

Wolfen nods, quietly. “It is dark and scary.” Moments later, Wolfens massive searchlights power on.

The three wince at the light illuminating the tunnels too brightly for a long moment, before she dials it down to something approaching sane. “My lights are either brighter, or the Kitsune being on board helped me more than I realize…”

Kongo nods, her brown eyes narrowed. “There’s some distortion to my signal with my ship, but less than what I’ve been worried about.”

“The Kitsune are asleep, so I’m feeling more of the load, Wolfen.” Mordred’s voice echoes in Wolfen’s mind, from her station at her chair. “I’ll be quieter unless we’re in danger as a result. Even if they’re generating more power, it’s still hard on me.”

Wolfen nods to herself, to answer Mordred, then glances back behind her at Kongo riding her back. “How are you handling analyzing the Laser Rifle, by the way?” Wolfen asks Kongo, thinking as she turns back to watch the tunnels. “Your nanomachines seem to constantly be studying it as you use it.”

“It looks like my weapons have a similar effect from the Thanatonium in my ship’s reactor, which I’m starting to suspect is a divinely made power source acting to release such energies slowly. Without it being as close as it is, I’ll be weakened, but not overtly much.” Kongo admits.

Wolfen slowly nods, thinking. “Do you think you’ll need to tap into my Legend?”

Kongo slowly shakes her head. “I should be fine, Wolfen. A flagship such as myself has our own pride in our abilities.”

Wolfen slowly nods, turning back towards the tunnels before them, then breathes out. “Compass is giving good readings on where we need to go… we just need to head down. Kongo, how good are your scanners down here?”

“Short ranged, at best.” Kongo admits.

“Hoppou’s planes don’t get any signals down here… it’s spooky.” Hoppou whispers, quietly, then clings to Wolfen.

Wolfen pulls them both into her arms, then slowly floats down the massive hole. “I’ve got you safe. Just tell me if you spot anything like eyes watching us.”

“Yes!” Hoppou states, smiling softly, and starts watching carefully, while Kongo nods slower, a hexagonal pattern forming around them.

“Klein field operational. It won’t be anything as strong as for my ship, but this should take off the edge of any surprise attacks.” Kongo states, quietly. “Just keep in mind, the wider I have it out, like this, the less it can handle.”

“Thank you, Kongo. It’s… really pretty.” Wolfen whispers, watching it.

“Do you think you’d like upgrades from my Fleet?” Kongo asks, curiously.

Wolfen slowly nods. “I wouldn’t mind trying that, or trying to figure out something similar.” She admits, thinking.

Slowly, they descend, as the three watch carefully. Hoppou watching above, Kongo the sides, and Wolfen below.

“My Flagship, Yamato authorized the option of technology trades.” Kongo admits, thinking. “And it’s… a change of pace, having time off from what the Admiralty Code ordered us. We received a message telling us to blockade the seas, but not why. It’s been… pleasant. We have time, we’re moving towards our goal, but we’re taking time to recover as well, instead of constantly working on our goal.”

Wolfen nods. “Downtime isn’t a bad thing, especially when we need it.” She admits, quietly.

“May I ask what this likely is?” Kongo asks, thinking over things. “This seems almost like some sort of dimensional rift, but… not quite, at the same time.”

Wolfen nods. “Back home, it would have been called a… Terrae Incognitae.” Wolfen frowns for a moment, then nods. “Hard to pronounce, but it’s basically those places that were described in early epics by people, then deemed fantasy because the Gods didn’t let more people in to see it.”

Kongo blinks, quietly, her eyes watching things more carefully now. “Interesting…”

Wolfen nods as they descend, one eye always on her compass. “Indeed. It…” She breathes out for a moment. “They said that most of the ways were sealed, to the Norse places. But this seems to be a route, and close. So it likely touches on some divine nature that links to the same one Dwarves still have existing within themselves.”


“The cavern’s widening.” Kongo states, watching things carefully. “It’s slow, but steady.”

Wolfen slowly nods, her eyes narrowing as the compass spins for a moment, then she turns and follows it.

In the distance, she can hear something, so far off that it’s barely audible as echoes. “Possible target or movement confirmed…”

Hoppou’s eyes narrow. “My pilots for my planes can’t see anything in this darkness, Wolfen, outside of your searchlights.”

Wolfen nods, the lights slowly growing in intensity as she flies towards where the Compass points.

The cavern, as they start to realize, is absolutely massive. Miles and miles deep. Dozens of miles in size.

Even Wolfen’s floodlights operating at full power don’t illuminate more than the cavern ceiling above them, as well as what seems to be millions of stalactites.

“Bats, Wolfen! Look, they’re fluffy!” Hoppou cries out, only for Wolfen to move out of the way of the bats.

“They poop a lot, too. They usually eat insects, but these ones are huge…” She trails off.

Hoppou nods, wincing. “Fair. Hoppou doesn’t want to be pooped on.”

“No one does.” Kongo states, her eyes narrowed. “We’ve been jerking a lot as we move, though. You’re definitely following a moving target, Wolfen.”

“Do you want me to speed up? Or stay slow so we can hear easily?” Wolfen asks.

“Better to go a bit faster, I think.” Hoppou states. “But not so much that we can’t warn you if there’s an ambush going to happen.”

Wolfen nods, speeding up noticeably.

Hoppou shivers, watching the ceiling as more and more eyes seem to open and watch them pass, as they go through the massive cave.

Then she shivers more. Blinking, she tries to stop, but frowns as she fails to stop. “Wolfen? Hoppou’s getting cold, and isn’t sure why.”

Wolfen’s eyes narrow. “Kongo, are you getting cold?”

“No, but I don’t need to worry about such things in the first place.” Kongo replies, as Wolfen slows down.

In the distance, far far in the distance, they can hear something like a loud pitched “tink” from so far off, it’s barely audible.

“A miner, then?” Hoppou asks, curiously, as she shivers more. Then blinks at Wolfen putting a sweater on her, directly from Wolfen’s holds on board.

“Warm…” Hoppou whispers, quietly.

“Keep it. It’ll help with this cold.” Wolfen whispers.

“Not more of you blasted creatures!” The shout erupts from the distance, the same place they heard mining from previously.

With those words, Wolfen darts forwards.

It takes a few minutes. A few minutes listening to cursing, ranting, then shrieks of rage as a large group of something loud and unpleasant spots the lights, and turns it’s attention as a group directly towards Wolfen and company.

Wolfen’s eyes narrow, as she spots the lights of something massive’s giant eyes, and opens fire.

“What the bloody hell?” A loud scream erupts from nearly below them. “Turn those lights down, don’t you know they’re attracted to lights?!”

A screech from above, as many more show up, even as Hoppou starts releasing planes.

“We’ve got it handled. You a dwarf?” Wolfen calls down.

“Yes, I’m a bloody dwarf! Just give me some time to deal with the one on me, and I’ll be out to help!” The Dwarf calls out, voice somewhat muffled. “How are you going to deal with the pain in the asses, anyways?”

“Ever heard of lasers?” Wolfen calls out, right before her battery of lasers opens fire.

Unlike with Abyssal princesses, they don’t disappoint here. Loud screeches as several dozen flying bat-like things discover the joys of being in the air without wings erupts through the caverns.

Then Hoppou’s fighters introduce the now falling giant bat monsters to Abyssal machine guns.

Kongo casually bats one away with a glowing purple sword, not even noticing the attempts to bite at her failing to get through her Klein field.

“Well, that’s new. And neat. You think you could sell me one of those, perhaps? If we had a few of those, we could probably… you radiate Legend. What the hell are you three and why are you here?” The dwarf asks, quietly.

“Looking for repairs for myself.” Wolfen admits.

“Repairs for yourself? You’re a bloody girl, lass, if a pretty one.” The Dwarf states.

“Look closer.” Wolfen states.

“Closer, lass?” For a moment, the Dwarf frowns, then his eyes glow with a brief spark of Legend.

Then he stares. “Ah. Repairs indeed. A shipgirl then. Heard rumors of you in Poseidon’s little death match, but I didn’t know any got out. Pity the bloody bastard is so cruel to all of yo-”

He pauses, looking at Hoppou closer, then continues. “I’m guessing the little lass is one that made a deal with him for power, then? Escapees, perhaps?”

“Divinely made Aerial Battleship who had a part of me drop from one universe to another, resulting in me becoming a shipgirl, actually. But it looks like something happened to Poseidon, resulting in his plans for Shipgirls and Abyssals to be messed up. All the Abyssals like Hoppou were summoned to the Mortal World, and the Shipgirls induce PTSD in Abyssals.” Wolfen admits.

“Something happened to him, and his plans, eh?” The Dwarf mutters, then sighs. “Couldn’t happen to a worse bastard, I’ll admit. But, though I thank you for the assistance, why the bloody hell are you down here then? These realms are what remains of the only passageway that allowed pantheons to meet each other.” He glances down. “That river down there’s the dried up River Styx.”

“See, Daddy was the Norse God of Mecha, and he was trained by someone named Wayland Smith… and I got this neat compass that leads me towards people that might help me find who I’m looking for!” Wolfen admits, a wide smile on her face.

The Dwarf pauses, looking nonplussed.

“Norse God of Mecha? Wish we’d had that arou-” He pauses, as the rest of what Wolfen said clicks.

“Can you prove it?” He asks, carefully.

Wolfen points to a section of her armor. “Look there, like you did at my hull.”

He pauses, looking carefully, then stares.

After a moment, he shakes his head, looking up at her. “Aye, you’re the real deal alright. That’s his make and work for that chunk of you, no doubts about it from me. Though why that’s separate from the rest of your hull is… oh. That’s where you need repairs, then?”

Wolfen nods, quietly.

“Incoming. They’re being sneakier this time.” Mordred whispers.

Wolfen’s batteries aim up, then start opening fire, trusting Mordred’s instincts.

Several fall dead, as dozens of the things launch themselves down, all stealth forgone for trying to hit the group.

Swords, fighters, and lasers later, they fall dead, as Hoppou breathes out. “That was hard.”

Wolfen nods, then glances back. “How far can they see, Dwarf?”

“Call me Scotty. I always liked that Star Trek show.” Scotty smirks. “It’s a better name than other options I’ve been called on jobs I’ve done, incarnating as often as I’ve been to counter the drain on Wayland’s Legend.”

“You think you’d be up for learning engineering? Maybe signing on as an engineer for me, or helping long term with projects?” Wolfen smiles.

Scotty laughs. “I think we’re going to get along just fine. It’s a pity we don’t have any good dwarven alcohol anymore, though.”

Wolfen smirks like a cat that caught and ate the canary, broke the fine china, and got it all blamed on the dog.

“And if I said one of Daddy’s inventions was to buy an entire Keg of Dwarven Alcohol, and engrave it with runes so it would always replenish itself and never run out?” Wolfen asks, carefully. “Think you and other Dwarves might be interested?”

Scotty blinks.

“Before, I would have called that heresy. But with how long I’ve been without a bloody good drink? I’ll call you a saint!” Scotty retorts.

Wolfen smiles. “Signing onto my crew means you’d be working for me in my hull, rather than outside of it. But considering how few I have, since all of the ones that would count still live barring my captain, who’s a strange case, and the Kitsune I picked up yesterday…” She trails off, humming. “They still live, too, and they found that signing up doesn’t mean they’d die, by the way. It’s just my captain that’s…”

“Hmm. That odd a situation, then, huh?” Scotty muses, then sighs. “More of the bloody things are coming, if you listen to the stalactites shifting up above. At least they’re good eating though! Once they’re done swarming you and finding out you aren’t food, they’ll leave us be, lass. We might even be able to get a good feast out of this, if you keep killing them like you have been!”

Wolfen nods, aiming her guns, then fires again.

Soon, it’s over, but Hoppou’s frowning and looking at Wolfen now. “Hoppou’s getting hungry, Wolfen. Could you feed Hoppou soon?”

Wolfen nods. “Soon as we’re done, I’ll get you some food from my stores, Hoppou. I should have something to tide you over with…”

“Those are surprisingly good eating lass, if you can remove the poison glands and use fire to roast them.” Scotty admits.

Wolfen slowly nods, then kneels, pulling swarms of the dead into her hull. “I’ll see if Kitsune fire can roast them, then. Any tips on the gland locations?”

“In the head, by the teeth. Takes about an hour before they start poisoning the mea…t… did you just disappear them into your hull, Lass?”

“Irregardless of the fact that I’m reduced to before Daddy built me into a Kilometer Long ship capable of traveling to Mars unaided?” Wolfen asks rhetorically. “I still have room.”

A slow nod from Scotty is her only answer, before he sighs. “This way, lass. We’ll be there sooner or later, depending on how long it takes before they quit bothering us.”

Wolfen nods. “Thankfully the lasers don’t leave me feeling hungry like the other weapons do…”

“Wolfen? Could you give me data analysis on the dimensional shifts and folds we’re in, via radio?” Kongo asks, eyes narrowed. “My core is starting to have a hard time keeping the connection up.”

For a moment, Wolfen pauses, frowning, as her computers work overtime. Then she breathes out, as she sends a file via radio transmission.

“Thank you. That explains a lot.” Kongo nods, stretching as her form seems to solidify somehow. “It’s a pity my Super Graviton Cannon can’t fire through dimensional fields like the one influencing us.”

Wolfen’s eyes widen as a whisper from Mordred reaches her of “More incoming!”, then narrows her eyes at the sight of more swarming down at her.

“This is starting to get irritating, even for myself.” Kongo murmurs. “I’m starting to genuinely miss not having emotions…”

Wolfen glances over at Kongo for a moment, as she continues firing. “I get it. Maybe work on figuring out how to turn them temporarily off for combat?”

“Not possible with a Mental Model.” Kongo states, automatically, then blinks at the realization Wolfen heard her.

A triumphant screech erupts from behind, as one rushes towards them, slightly smarter than the others… and runs straight into Wolfen’s glowing red hand.

The glowing hole through the corpse leaves the ones flying above screeching as they retreat, something about the injury absolutely terrifying them.

Then Wolfen breathes out slowly. “Now I’m starting to feel the hunger, too…”

“What was that, lass?” Scotty’s wide eyed, staring in awestruck shock.

“Daddy calls it the Radiant Wave Surger. It’s a melee nuclear pulse weapon that, if made with Legend, can directly damage the soul. There’s a few pros and cons to it that I’m supposed to keep quiet, but if I hit anything while moving fast enough, simply put? It dies.” Wolfen admits, quietly.

“Any defensive options?” Scotty asks, looking over. “Looks like it doesn’t burn Legend the way your blonde friend’s shield does to hold it in place.”

“It burns through radioactive material like crazy if I over use it, but Daddy did manage to develop it into shields. My reactors are just so inefficient, however…” Wolfen sighs. “We could never get enough nuclear material to give me any shields like that.”

“A Klein Field may be a better option for you than that. Yours looks like it vaporizes most solid objects on contact, Wolfen, but I’m pretty sure I can see the flaws you know about.” Kongo states, eyeing Wolfen silently.

“Mind explaining, Miss… Kongo, wasn’t it? Sorry, Wolfen’s offer and then that beautiful sight…” Scotty trails off, thinking. “I studied engineering the last time I was on the surface, which is why I took this name, to be honest with you. That and being born in what’s known now as Scotland.”

He trails off, thinking. “You might be able to get away with something like that, building a cartridge system, using a bottle full of radioactive isotopes.”

Wolfen blinks, as does Kongo. Hoppou yawns softly, as she pulls herself up onto Wolfen’s back for a piggyback ride, mostly ignoring things, except to happily munch on the scone Wolfen gave her.

Wolfen glances at Kongo. “Any idea of if that would work well, or better?”

“Exactly how inefficient is the system you’re using, anyways?” Kongo asks, now curious.

“It rips all the radioactive isotopes out of a solid uranium chunk, depleting it after a few uses.”

Scotty and Kongo blink at Wolfen in sync.

Then Kongo looks at Scotty, obviously wanting an explanation of what the hell she just heard.

Scotty looks at Kongo, then shakes his head. “Don’t look at me like that, lass. Gods are utter bullshit. They do the impossible for a living.”

A slow nod from Kongo is Scotty’s only answer, as she walks and thinks. “You’d need a compressor system of some sort for such, if it’s truly so inefficient…”

“Do you want me to give you the schematics, then, Kongo?” Wolfen asks, now curious.

Kongo thinks, then pauses. “Hold that thought. More’s coming.”

Scotty twitches. “More?!”

“It’s a single target this time. Bigger than the others. Perhaps the mother?” Kongo thinks over what her systems told her.

“I’m seeing it on Radar now, too… whatever it is, it’s huge.” Wolfen glances up. “And with me needing repairs, too…” she adds, more quietly.

“No. Not it’s mother, I’m afraid.” A voice booms from above, eyes looking down at them from amongst the Stalactites.

Wolfen looks up, eyes narrowed, Hoppou waking up and clinging tighter to her shoulders.

Kongo looks up, impassively staring.

Scotty, on the other hand, pales and starts looking for cover, eyes wide with terror. As he does so, he quietly whispers “What did I do to get him to notice me?!”

“It was nothing you did, but your choice of guests, Dwarf. That, and thinking your smith might be a good menu option if I could find him tonight.” The voice booms from above, before a reptilian head sticks out of the stalactites to look at them closer.

Scotty slowly moves to hide behind several rock formations, keeping them between him and the massive figure above.

“Why are you here? Have we irritated you in some form?” Wolfen asks, eyes narrowed as she desperately tries to ignore her injured hull and stand strong. Deep within Wolfen, Gwen snaps awake and rushes towards her station.

“Hoppou really doesn’t like this…” Hoppou’s voice whispers in Wolfen’s ear, as the Abyssal Princess clings to Wolfen’s back.

“Oh, I was just on my way to think about devouring some dwarf remnants and this irritating Forge God they have, when I spotted this truly delicious morsel flying along, as well as many of her children. Quite the delectable feast, I must admit.” The head of what definitely is a dragon smiles down at them, an eye stuck between his teeth as big as they are tall.

“And now I’m face to face with the ones that killed so very many of them, and are filled with such… delicious Legend, that I simply can’t help myself but feel HUNGRY…” The dragon grins.

“May I ask your name?” Kongo states, calmly.

“A polite morsel, how entertaining… the name is NIDHOGG. I, who ate the entirety of the roots of the now ROTTED Yggdrasil, greets the ones trespassing through my hunting grounds.” Nidhogg smirks.

Wolfen’s eyes narrow, as she internally puts an alarm on, feeling Legion of Coal units lead inexperienced Kitsune to the guns.

It’s not enough. She knows that. Not against something like Nidhogg. At the same time, with the extra crew, she feels stronger and more refreshed than before.

“My apologies if we’ve insulted you in any way, great and legendary Nidhogg. But may I ask why you are looking at us as food?” Wolfen asks, eyes narrowed. “We have no issues with you. My hold is full of the spawn of the one who you apparently killed and ate. Could we trade some of our kills for safe passage, perhaps?”

“Careful, Wolfen. You’re not up for a fight like this. Even if I take full control, I’m not sure how much of my skill with Riding will make up for my not being a Servant in this situation…” Mordred’s voice whispers from the Captain’s Chair, her eyes narrowed.

Hoppou silently shivers, watching the massive dragon move, half hidden from their view above. Stalactites on the cave ceiling above them obscuring the view of the massive, bloated form of the dragon.

No wings that they can see. But that doesn’t seem to matter to the massive beast.

“Oh, I was just thinking to myself on how a bunch of dwarves might make an excellent feast, when I was distracted by this little winged morsel. But I’m afraid I’m going to be eating something small, tasty and full of Legend tonight, one way or another.” Nidhogg replies, his grin widening to show all teeth as he lands before them, horns glinting in Wolfen’s spotlights. “Come, little ships in human form. Let me see if you’re a filling appetizer.”


With those words, Nidhogg breathes in, and Wolfen launches herself to the front, forcing herself between the others and the massive dragon. The Radiant Wave Surger built into her left hand snaps to life, and she pushes it up as Nidhogg exhales…

It’s not heat coming off the breath. It’s not ice. It’s not any sort of breath they can comprehend. Instead, the breath is one of pure decay. And both Nidhogg’s eyes and Wolfen’s go wide as their respective weapons cancel each other out.

“Tch. That’s REALLY not good…” Mordred murmurs from her chair. “I’m not sure how many uses of that we have in the tank, and he doesn’t seem to want to back down. We’d better hope to either kill him or drive him off, quickly.”

“I’ll handle countering his breath, you two try to either shoot him down or drive him off!” Wolfen shouts to Hoppou and Kongo.

Then the battle is joined.



Author’s Notes:

Scotty’s real name isn’t Scotty, I’m afraid. But having an engineering dwarf calling himself Scotty because he’s both a fan of Star Trek and Scottish was too funny an idea to pass up.

Plus, Wolfen’s the fun side story. Usually. Gotta make it entertaining for the author to write, right?

As for combat? Shipgirls might be great against lower tier mook enemies, but against something like Nidhogg, they’re actually getting a proper boss fight on their hands.

[Kieran]

I'd honestly be surprised if you needed all of them for most applications (except climactic story effects). Goetia acts with Solomon's body and the other 9 rings, and Ars Nova is invoked with all 10. It seems quite likely that subsets of the rings grant specific powers, though again, none of them are particularly named.

I might be influenced by the Infinity Stones or somesuch, though. Might need to read back through the FGO story in that area to be more sure.

*Nods* If I could be more sure of a defined set of rules, or mechanics - one Ring grants proficiency in a specific art, or Magic Resistance E, or what have you - I might be more tempted. Then again, with something that (potentially) powerful, the smart thing to do is make it his only power-up . . . But yeah, ultimately more trouble than it's worth, I think.

If you have a Grail that has the curse of the Rheingold, and you extract/transfer that curse, what form might it take, or what would best contain it?

I did consider that as a means to summon Jeanne Alter, once upon a time . . . But I decided that the logic was a bit too specious.

Also, I suppose Bradamante actually relates to Merlin somehow, so there's a lot of room for mischief there.

Particularly as they're adjacent to Avalon . . . Hm.

Seems pretty accurate. There's some potential there.

Yeah - I'm not saying it's easy, or even simple, but it's a better place to start than I might have with some F/GO characters (see: the logic of getting Jeanne Alter, Ereshkigal, Summer Meltlilith, X Alter, and so on feasibly summoned). Her Skills aren't totally unfeasible in a standard Grail War (and don't require things like the use of smartphones or projected computer screens to use), her outfits aren't ludicrously outlandish (mostly) . . .

Nero or Gareth would be easier, but Nezha's at least worth considering.

There's also a pretty large amount of variation between branches of Buddhism, which makes it especially fun. Buddhism is influenced by Hinduism pretty heavily, but I can't really claim to know too much about either. I only have the sort of passing interest in Zen that most people pick up at one point or another, and while I think I have an okay grasp of the goals/mindset, it is occasionally a bit alien-feeling.

*Nods* Most of what I know comes from my World Religions class, so I know what you mean. Regional and cultural variants can be so "fun" . . . But yes, that's the feeling I get, too. If there's a point of contention with Nezha, that's it, because it's tied up so deeply in who and what she is . . .

[Xamusel]

RB... wow. This is so impressive a side story. I hope you manage to finish it up as well.

Now, for Kieran, I have a question here. What do you see the cosmology of the Grail Works LTD looking like?

[Kieran]

Now, for Kieran, I have a question here. What do you see the cosmology of the Grail Works LTD looking like?

I'm off to bed, so I'll put this up for consideration, so I can answer more completely later: "Cosmology" in what sense?