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Anonymous ID:1Hqmjq4T Tue 05 Jul 2022 17:15:17 No.5329009 View View Report

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>>5329007
Hope swelled in Capt. Anne's breast as high as the upwelling seawater ahead as the Shipmaiden of the Seas broke through the surface tension of the oceans with a force of a depth charge, the silhouette of her citadel and highlighted by bioflorescent lights recognizable amidst the storm as it landed with a splash.

'We're saved' thought Captain Anne as Yamato's demure foghorn voice rang clear, unimpeded by the storm.

"Yamato to all vessels, rally to me, transfer any and all cargo or passengers you have aboard. I will provide cover!"

Thunderous roars of gunfire punctuated the warship's declaration of protection, an alpha barrage of Urchin and Swordfish battering the storm of flies and causing the island-sized beast to recoil with pain.

---------

Yamato furrowed what active eyes she possessed aboard her vessel in concentration as she surveyed the results of her latest bombardment on the approaching Amalgam. It had been ten minutes had passed since her arrival and all she could do is engage in a fighting retreat as the Island Amalgam kept up in its pursuit.

"Captain, the crew and passengers of both the 'Spanish lady' and the 'HF Majesty' have been successfully transferred onboard."

"And the 'Bonnet'?"

"They haven't transferred their crew or cargo, but they're also barely holding steady on their own." replied Yomi. "I'll admit, the captain of the 'Bonnet' is capable, as is her crew."

The helmswoman turned her gaze towards one of Yamato's many eyes with concern noting the living vessel's silence. "What's wrong?"

"The Kappa's grown stronger since we last saw it, and has developed countermeasures against me. I'm not dealing enough damage fast enough to ward it off, much less kill it."

"What about your star wave cannon?" asked Yomi.

Yamato ran the numbers in her mind, taking into account the last time she fired her main gun and the 'gift' given to her by a wandering leviathan, the results of the mental math was painful for her to bear.

"Yes. Yes! It could kill it, but-but then-!" she answered, doubt and guilt slowly flooding into the tone of her voice.

"No...I can't. I can't use it here! It's too dangerous!"

"Why?"

"I...I'd have to drop everything in order to ready the Star-wave cannon. If I drop what I'm doing in order to prepare the cannon then we'll be left vulnerable. The passengers...they'll-"

A deep baritone voice suddenly made itself heard over Yamato's shipwide intercoms.

<All hands and passengers, prepare for Star Wave Cannon firing sequence. Target: Kappa Island.>

The eyes of the helmswoman as well as the shipmaiden swiveled to focus on the Bearded FuzzBuzz who had coyly pressed a leg down on the button of the ship's intercom. "Buzzo..."

Immediately the comms went aflame with communication.

cont.

BodyHorrorOP

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BodyHorrorOP ID:7PBaPSZy Wed 02 Mar 2022 19:18:07 No.5183632 View View Report

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>>5183397

“I’d like to leave as soon as possible, if it’s all the same to you and your crew.” You declare,
with Yamato’s row of eyes giving you a slow blink of approval before she speaks.

“As you wish.” Then, bringing every speak on her bulk to bear at once; “Attention, crew of the Yamato! Departure in five. Crew not aboard within the time limit will be left behind. Again.”

“She means you, Musashi!” Calypso yells out with a grin before turning to you. “Also, Yams has got some of the best recon abilities at her disposal, both her own and those of her crew…but the more the merrier if you’ve got any abilities to spare?”

“I’ll be more than happy to support your skills with some recon of my own.” You say, turning to the Neuromancer as your spine begins to throb with the effort of creation. “I’d like your help, too. Scan the water as deep and as far as you can—you’ve got the best range out of all of us, by far.”

“So…so you want me to-“

“Look. Look, with your special eyes.” You affirm, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“MY BRAND!”

“Yeah, I think you lot are gonna fit right in.” Calypso laughs, grabbing hold of the gangplank’s railing as she motions for you to follow.

Given how stressed you’ve been regarding the clock that’s ticking away at the back of your mind, you can’t help but respect Yamato’s punctuality. No sooner have five minutes passed than Yamato withdraws from the shore, scuttling away from the pier until her claws are able to curl around her hull as the sea cradles her in its merciless arms. A series of scouts surge from your hive and take flight, with Gina staring into the depths, her eyes glowing with the tell-tale neon light of her Neuromancy. Gem and Emma slipped below deck shortly before you left the port behind, while a warrior with an arboreal sword arm and a powerfully-build woman with a staggeringly thick head of hair dashed aboard mere moments before Yamato set sail. In stark contrast to the ship-girl’s impeccable manners, her crew appears to be little more than a loose collection of brigands and rogues, catching snippets of bawdy conversation and plenty of good-natured (you think) ribbing back and forth between them.

They’re an odd sort, to be sure…but you’re not one to judge, given the company you tend to keep.

Speaking of which, a quick glance around the deck shows Snowbird standing on the furthest part of the bow, the sea’s acidic spray splashing harmlessly off her armored form. Dorian’s at the rear making small talk with the wood-armed swordswoman from earlier, who said she could’ve sworn she knew him from somewhere, while the long-haired woman you can only assume was some kind of Pre-Crucible bodybuilder looks to be moving some artillery shells back and forth between two stocks, her attentions focused on Dorian’s current conversation.

As for Calypso…

(Continued)

BodyHorrorOP

View Same Google ImgOps iqdb SauceNAO Yamato.png, 766KiB, 636x635

BodyHorrorOP ID:dg4U1LHV Wed 26 Jan 2022 16:55:51 No.5139647 View View Report

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Harsh were the seas of the world that was.

Humanity’s history with the oceans runs deep, and countless have been the lives claimed by error’s folly or fortune’s turn. But slowly, surely, as with all things, humanity adapted. They grew to understand the water’s whims, to anticipate her moods and chart courses across her raging surfaces and endless depths. We knew the sea.

Then, the world ended…

…and the oceans became something new and mysterious, yet again.

Acid strong enough to strip flesh from bone with a single drop laps at your polished calcite hull, under which runs sharkskin waterproofing and latticed chitin strong enough to weather the sea’s savagery. The Crucible’s scarlet skies are clear, for now, but ship-mate Calypso’s Phantasmal-Skintalking warned you of a storm before you set out from Felixstowe, and you can see it coalescing on the horizon. The eyes you’ve got dotted along the observation deck swivel, zooming in on the clouds as you adjust your course ever-so-slightly to adapt to the evolving threat—beneath you, yet more water-and-acid-proof orbs stare unblinking into the Atlantic’s merciless depths. Past schools of howler fish and nigh-impenetrable clouds of sea lice, you see the outlines of things best left alone…the great, undulating shapes of things that roil and rage where light dares not pierce.

You’ve checked, but you check again; your torpedo tubes are loaded, their living payloads gnashing their teeth, yearning to draw fresh blood. Your cannons are primed, the armor-piercing swordfish-class artillery aimed skyward while your own massive claws are relaxed at the side of your hull, ready to snap open and shut, ending what’s caught between.

Your name is Yamato, and you are one-hundred and ten meters of peerless calcite, impenetrable chitin, and unsinkable determination—a living ship that dares to connect what once was broken.

You’re several days out from what was once Britain’s largest port and on a journey you’re no stranger to. Ferrying passengers and crew across the Crucible’s vicious oceans has become your self-appointed task, and effort to bridge the continents once more…though you’re certainly not alone in your penance.

“Captain!” A small, resolute voice announces herself on your bridge. The eyes there open, and you’re met with the fierce, dark stare of a young woman saluting the legion of glassy orbs that adorn the consoles therein. Yomi, one of the twelve souls that’ve taken it upon themselves to accompany you and the most serious of their number, by far.

“Status report?” Comes your request, your voice emanating loudly from the speakers set into every corner of the room. The teen’s frame stiffens, her hands snapping to her side as her mox-jet eyes leak thick, black ichor that crawls down her round cheeks.

(Continued)

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