@mechanicaldaughter

0600 hours, 29 May 20XX, North Sea, 100 kilometers North-East of Kirkwall, UK.

It had been a very, very long trip for a very, very beleaguered fleet. Väinämöinen was fast asleep standing upright, head gently lolled forward as her fairies kept the rigging running around her. She was jolted awake, however, by an alarm she instructed the crew to give her at a certain distance from their destination. It took a short amount of time to wake up, and some cold instant coffee in an aluminum cup was all she had. Satisfied with her state of attentiveness, and judging their heading by their angle to the rising sun, she nodded. It was time.

It would be rude to arrive without informing your host that you’re coming, after all. Reaching out on a channel that, from information gathering, she knew the communications center at Scapa Flow monitored, she spoke clearly into the radio.

“Get back! It’s live!” Sealion shouted as he and the rest of the team he was with ran from the bomb. This was one of those ‘rare’ missions he conducted outside of the usual Abyssal war. One much less documented but his training was pertinent for. Right now they were somewhere in the middle east, the mission was to seek and destroy a training camp set up by various small nations to construct their own Kanmusu fleets to serve their own purpose. 

Sealion rigged a series of bombs to destroy the central facility, the very heart and blow a hole as a means to escape. However something went wrong...it went very very wrong...He was running, the trigger was in his hand. Just before he hit the detonator he felt a pain in his back, then he started slumping forward. Turning around a man sneered over him, an assault weapon ready to finish him off. 

@mechanicaldaughter

There were advantages and disadvantages to working out of Scapa Flow, even if it was just temporary. The disadvantages were as myriad as they were obvious. The weather, the general conditions, and the fact that everyone around them seemed a mite depressed - not to mention the tales of ghosts of old Germans in the harbor. But there was one advantage, one that had her almost skipping as she headed to the admiral’s office to report in.

キタ━━━(゜∀゜)━━━!!!!! : What does your muse do whenvery excited?

@mechanicaldaughter

As anyone who was even marginally acquainted with the battleship Tirpitz could readily attest, her mood could rarely be described as pleasant. This was certainly the case right now, as she was overseeing the unloading of a shipment of munitions that had just arrived at the docks... a fact that everyone in a five mile radius was likely aware of, given the volume of her irritated shouting.

“Schneller! Schneller, you lazy sacks of rancid meat! I’ve seen corpses move faster than this! Unload those crates! Get them to the armory! And um Gottes willen, if you drop any of them, pray they detonate and kill you all, because if they do not, I most certainly will! Bah, useless, the lot of you!”

The workers were mercifully spared further vitriol (and potential violence), when their taskmistress sensed movement behind her. Her instincts responding before she was even consciously aware of the newcomer, she spun to face them; if she had her rigging on, it was likely several of her cannons would have done the same.