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tegarrianlore · 6 months

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do you have like, a summary of your oc shipgirls? as in how many there are and how they're related? (maybe even how they look? 👀)

ohhh boi there's a lot of them and for the vast majority i only have small lore bluffs about them (which is intentional as i dont wanna focus on, like. 60 or so OCs. i just wanna have a few be protagonistic). i'm just gonna list some of the OC shipgirls i have below, in no particular order

for the ones who are from completely made-up factions or nations we've got a few interesting ones.

the Pax Tenora-class super-heavy battleships are the epitome of Tenoran shipbuilding. The nation isn't very big nor very populated, so to compensate for that they aim for high-tech. Developed late into the 60s (i just didnt want battleships dying out even if carriers are a thing), Pax Tenora and Oransje Harold are the only members of this class. They are equipped with three quadruple 510mm gun turrets that fire super-heavy shells, have a speed of 31 knots, and a very thick armor belt. This translates into both of them being rather big shipgirls with very noticeable musculature.

the Thule-class battleships are similar in design to the Pax Tenora-class, but overall smaller. Instead of 510mm guns, they have 430mm guns; their armor is weaker and their overall size is much smaller. Despite this, their speed is also 31 knots due to being more antiquated post Great War designs (which ended in 1940). Thule is, usually, the de-facto admiral of the Tenora Basmu fleet; while Mittilagart enjoys being a lone wolf.

DFNV Ulysses is a nuclear-powered super-aircraft carrier, a Priority Research of the Dämmerung Foundation. She is an expert among experts at dealing with the Sirens.

DFNV Irkalla is a heavy cruiser of the Suffragan-class. Despite her hellish appearance - pale skin, deep red eyes, four massive horns sprouting from her head - she is a rather lively and bubbly shipgirl. However, for some reason, the Sirens fear her presence and try to avoid her. Neither Irkalla nor the Foundation knows why.

of the nations every AL player is familiar with (in no particular order)

The Preussen-class is a pair of PR sisters belonging to the Ironblood. Preusen herself is a military genius, single-handledly dealing with all the armed forces of the Ironblood. Großer Kurfürst, however, is not as gifted as her sister; instead prefering to deal with the enemy one-on-one. This is because of the two (in WoWs), Preussen is a decisively better battleship overall, while GK is a brawler first and foremost.

Admiral Nakhimov started as a proposal for converting a Sovetsky Soyuz-class battleship into an aircraft carrier. Like the rest of the Parliament CVs, Nakhimov uses single-attack squadrons that deliver devastating blows; but she's the biggest of the 5 CVs they have (Admiral Serov, Chkalov, Pobeda, Volga and Nakhimov). Nakhimov is an arrogant woman hiding deep self-hatred issues, as she believes herself to be unnecessary among the Parliament fleet.

Kremlin and her sister Slava are a pair of PR battleships. Kremlin utilizes much bigger 457mm guns, while Slava enjoys much more accurate 406mm guns. Kremlin is the right hand of Soyuz, the leader of the fleet when Soyuz can't deploy herself; a bit of a workaholic, she is extremely loyal to the Soyuz-class. Slava is a bit more of an outcast.

Satsuma is part of the larger Yamato-class family. They are all divine kitsunes - Musashi, Yamato, Shinano and Shikishima have massive flooffy tails and all that; however, Satsuma is an oni. A very stupid oni. You can imagine her as female Itto, because that's the main inspiration for her design (yes, with muscles)

CEFV Patrie and CEFV Empereur (you may know her in WoWs as République) are the biggest battleships ever produced by Sarthale, even if they are only PRs. Both are equipped with quadruple 431mm gun turrets, although Patrie is considerably bigger, slower, and more well armored. Empereur is the right hand of the Emperor in many regards, acting as the leader of his anti-anomalous organization. Patrie, however, is a reclusive woman, highly devout to the Church and close to Richelieu.

#tegarrian lore #mrboatface answers #worldbuilding #oc #oc characters #oc shipgirls #azur lane #azur lane oc

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smokeybrandreviews · 8 days

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Into the Abyss

Boy, it has been a clean minute since I've updated my Azur Lane progress, mostly because the content has been a trickle this year, but with the current Rerun Event, I felt obliged to do so. Seriously this year has been mad slim on stuff to do in my favorite WWII sim. As a KMS main, coming off a year which was straight up lousy with Kraut progress, I am a little… disappointed with the current offerings. I feel like it’s been that way for a while, actually. Like, I found the stagnation of the game to be pretty prominent last year but, again, I am heavily Iron Blooded so that’s probably just my bias. That’s not to say I haven’t gotten anything for my main Fleet over the last few months, just that I kind of wanted more. Still, there were other facets which have progress so I can’t be all that mad. But I kind of am.

Please, Sir, May I Have Some More

Look, man, this Iron Blood drought is killing me. Like, we've had a few crumbs but that's it. Crumbs. Obviously, I've gobbled up what i could, which ain't much. The two P6 boats, one of which was a Decisive and the Confluence of Nothingness event. That's it. Man, i am STARVING over here! So much so that, when Friedrich Carl showed up on that Banner, i dove wholeheartedly into that sh*t. And, boy, did it cost. I went at that banner with round four hindered Wisdom Cubes. It literally took close to three three hundred of the f*ckers to finally pop the first, new, Kraut Girl in almost a year. Seriously, i popped SO many f*cking dupes of almost every other ship on the Banner before i finally scored Carl. That sh*t hurt my pockets, bad. Like, egregiously. She finally decided to appear, when i was at my wit's end, but I'm content about it. I ain't happy, but my main Fleet is still one hundred percent complete, so small victories. But, for real, Manjuu needs to drop some more KMS ships soon. I'm dying over here!

The Coldest Winter

The whole reason I am writing this thing, is to address the massive Ruskie mammoth in the room – the Abyssal Refrain Rerun. Once upon a time, long, long ago, i passed on this Event because i kind of didn’t give a sh*t about chasing another Fleet at the time. I was headlong in my Iron Blood quest so I missed out on a lot of ash*t back then. Shimakaze, New Jersey, and, prudent to this particular post, Kronshtadt. Tunnel vision, for sure. After I netted U-110 and caught up with the Iron Blood offerings, I set out on honing my Northern Parliament Fleet next. After the Germans, the Russians are my favorite Fleet based on aesthetic. By then, however, Abyssal Refrain was in the rear view and I missed out on, like, three of those ships, Kronshtadt being the most important. Not only was she a glaring hole in the puzzle that was my burgeoning SN Fleet, she was the last UR boat I needed, after claiming both Shimakaze and New Jersey on Rerun Lite events. Seeing her banner reappear, I absolutely made a run. The thing is, I was low on resources. Chasing after Friedrich Carl taxed my pockets hard. Fortunately, since this is a Rerun which I had kind of participated in before, I had Ship Building tickets. Ran through those real fast but it wasn’t enough. I only had around one hundred, fifty Wisdom Cubes and was sitting on the edge of my seat rolling for that UR sweetness. It only took three. Sixty Cubes and she popped. I FINALLY had EVERY natural UR ship (not Decisive) available! Yes, I've included Sovetsky Soyuz in that assertion I absolutely made out like a bandit during Snowrealm Peregrination. It was, like, four rolls, total, and i popped all those ships. One of the easiest Banners I've ever attempted. That luck would not hold. Anyway, the Ultra Rare side quest is down, but I’m still missing Volga at the moment. Popped two Kievs chasing Kron and i hate it. Why the f*ck am i loading up on Shop Ships and not the one Banner i still ain't got? The f*ck?

#Azur Lane #Northern Parliament #Abyssal Refrain

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rennebright · 2 months

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Endless drama & Unending mystery by GaiNoob [Twitter/X] ※Illustration shared with permission from the artist. If you like this artwork please support the artist by visiting the source.

#monarch #sovetsky soyuz #allen m sumner #モナーク #ソビエツキー・ソユーズ #アレン・M・サムナー #azur lane #アズールレーン #gainoob #posted art

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adderess · 1 year

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LMAO

I had an enemies to lovers dream about ewan being a British intelligence officer and reader being a kgb spy. It included reader yelling “Slava Matushke Rossii! Slava Sovetsky Soyuz!” to ewan saying with contempt: “So, a spy, are you? The USSR? How original.” Also, reader looked like vlada roslyakova

And oh fuck i need to write it (obviously not with ewan, maybe aemond? I feel like tom bennett would have been perfect for that but I don’t know that character)

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #tom bennett

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e350tb · 2 years

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Red Alert - Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Fort Bradley

New York City Day One

She’d only just flown out, and Major Evelyn Carter Hawthorne could tell her new command was already in a complete shambles.

She looked out the window as the big Nighthawk helicopter as it soared along the Hudson River. In the distance, Brooklyn was already ablaze, smoke pouring into the sky - she could see the shapes of giant airships dropping their payloads indiscriminately into the borough. Manhattan didn’t look much better - the airships had yet to reach it, but she could see the shapes of Soviet infantry and light vehicles in Battery Park, and Soviet gunships approaching Liberty Island at speed.

“Where’s this fort?” she called.

“Just north of Red Hook, ma’am, other side of the Brooklyn Bridge from Manhattan!” the pilot called. “If it’s still holding, that is!”

Hawthorne took off her cap, running a hand through her hair. It had been a dismal morning, and it promised to get worse.

Ordinarily, the idea of a British attache officer being sent to take command of American troops would be unthinkable - but this was no ordinary situation. Carville and Central Command (CENTCOM) had already lost contact with the Major-General that was meant to be overseeing the defence of the New York-Jersey City area, and judging by the state of the city, his prognosis was grim. Prospective officer casualties were already massive, and the invasion was barely two hours old - beggars could not be choosers.

It wasn’t like Hawthorne wasn’t used to being the last choice. Her father, General Lionel Hawthorne, had surrendered a command of fifteen thousand men during the last war, and that had coloured the British Army’s opinion of his daughter. It had been through competence and competence alone that she had made Major by thirty, and she suspected that she’d been sent as an attache to Carville to get rid of her.

Still, it spoke a lot to Carville’s confidence in her that she’d been sent here. Now she just hoped that confidence would be warranted.

“Fast fliers coming in from the north, ma’am - I think they’re going for Staten Island, but strap yourselves in anyway.”

Across from her was her adjutant, Lieutenant Eva Lee, who now worked to strap herself in a little tighter. She was a career staff officer, as far as Hawthorne was aware; this must’ve been her first jaunt into conflict. She was ‘seeing the elephant,’ as some of the Americans said.

“Breaking left to avoid that battleship, ma’am.”

The helicopter pivoted to the left. Hawthorne leaned out the window - a battleship was steaming towards the mouth of the Hudson, her two bow turrets trained on Liberty Island. The flag of the Soviet Navy flew proudly, almost mockingly, from her mast.

“Sovetsky Soyuz, ma’am,” said Eva. “Older battleship, but still pretty capable.”

“If she’s that close, they must’ve hit most of our coastal batteries already,” grunted Hawthorne. “As soon as we’re on the ground, I want communication open with the air force. I want them in the air as soon as possible.”

She narrowed her eyes.

“Can’t understand why they’re not already here…”

“Putting you down in thirty seconds, ma’am.”

To her right, Hawthorne could see Fort Bradley. Effectively, it was a giant square sitting on the Brooklyn side of the Hudson River, a little ways south of the Brooklyn Bridge. It had already clearly come under fire, and men were gathered on the walls, firing into what little remained of Cobble Hill - much of the landscape south of the fort had been flattened by artillery and naval gunfire, perhaps to clear the land for the use of vehicles. There didn’t seem to be any vehicles in the fort, but a few anti-air guns were positioned on each corner.

She looked back towards Liberty Island - just in time to see a sixteen inch shell slam into the base of the Statue of Liberty. Instantly the statue disappeared in a plume of smoke and fire, disconfigured copper and masonry flying into the air - she could see the arm shooting off in the direction of Manhattan.

“Those maniacs,” Eva hissed.

As the chopper lowered, the obliterated statue disappeared behind Governor’s Island, but Hawthorne could still see the Sovetsky Soyuz in the mouth of the Hudson, gun barrels smoking as they rotated to find a new target.

The helicopter touched down in the middle of the fort, and Hawthorne instantly stood up. She was at the door and stepping down almost before the base commander had noticed her arrival.

The man wore the insignia of a Major - otherwise, he would have looked the same as his men. He was dressed in olive green fatigues and a flak vest, an M16 rifle under his arm, and his hair was cut back to a buzzcut. He was tall, stocky and square jawed, as if he had walked out of an army recruitment ad - at some stage, he had lost his steel helmet.

“Are you in charge?” Hawthorne called over the roar of the rotors.

“Major Danville Biggs, 69th Infantry Regiment!” Major Biggs replied, casually saluting. “Colonel’s in Washington and the base commander got blown halfway to Atlanta, so I’m all you’ve got!”

“What’s the situation, Biggs?” demanded Hawthorne as Eva stumbled out of the helicopter.

“Bad and getting worse!” replied Biggs. “The Reds are ashore at Red Hook, and they’re establishing beachheads everywhere from Coney Island to Bay Ridge. Their air force and navy are blasting everything that moves, but the main problem is Governors Island. They’re trying to set up missile batteries there. Once those things are up, they’ll be able to flatten us - and Manhattan.”

“What do we have?”

“Apart from my regiment, nearly nothing,” said Biggs. “We’ve got light infantry, a few anti-tank rockets and the gun positions you would’ve seen on your way in. We can hold out against infantry attacks, but if they send much heavy armour, we’re done. I’m trying to raise any National Guard units or the Chair Force but communications are in chaos.”

“If we can get through to the air force, how long can you hold?” asked Hawthorne.

“An hour, two tops,” replied Biggs. “That’s if we can get rid of those positions on Governors Island, but with that battleship in the bay I doubt-”

There was a sudden loud bang, and all eyes fell on the river.

The forward turret of the Sovetsky Soyuz was flying upwards, a jet of flame erupting from its previous position. Suddenly, the second turret exploded, then the rear turret, and more explosions were ripping the hull apart. With an almighty groan, the great battleship split in two and began to roll over.

Biggs blinked.

“...oh,” he said. “Well… that’s helpful.”

Hawthorne crossed her arms.

“Carville told me there’d be an agent active here,” she said. “I suppose that tells us where she is.”

“...right,” Biggs scratched the back of his head. “But that doesn’t get us the air force…”

“Major Biggs! Patrol coming in from the south - Reds are hot on their heels!”

Biggs turned - a lieutenant was standing on the southern rampart, the men around him already opening up with covering fire. Swiftly, Biggs ran in his direction, Hawthorne and Eva on his heels.

From the rampart, Hawthorne could see the extent of the Soviet naval and air attacks on the Brooklyn coast. The buildings leading up to Fort Bradley were almost flattened, shells of their former selves, and the whole landscape resembled the moon. A half-squad of infantry, about six men, were darting from crater to crater - beyond them, in the ruins of apartment buildings, were Soviet infantry, putting down a merciless hail of rifle fire across the open ground. The US infantry broke cover, darting for another crater, and Hawthorne saw their commander.

The officer wore a different uniform from his fellows - he wore a European-style field cap with twin buttons above the peak, and a camouflage parka with black leather webbing. A compact submachine gun was tucked under his arm, and Hawthorne recognised it as a German ‘MP5.’

Biggs shook his head.

“I don’t remember telling Gunter to lead a recon patrol,” he grunted.

“He said he was taking initiative, sir,” the lieutenant explained.

“Damn special forces show-offs,” muttered Biggs. “Keep him covered!”

The squad raced from the crater, headed for the fort walls. Below Biggs and Hawthorne, men were frantically opening the gate to let them through, but suddenly there was a cry. One of the squad fell, hit in the thigh, and for a moment Hawthorne was convinced the officer would leave him behind.

Gunter stopped, metres from safely, and without hesitation ran back to his downed comrade. As bullets whipped and cracked past him, he grabbed hold of the fallen man’s collar and began to drag him back towards the fort. As he did so, there came a dull ‘thump-thump-thump-thump’ - a few of Biggs’ men had set up a .50 calibre machine gun to cover him. The distant forms of the Soviets ducked down to avoid the rain of fire - by the time the machine gun had ceased fire, Gunter was through the gate and safe.

Biggs shook his head. “Crazy bastard.”

He turned and marched down from the ramparts, forgetting Hawthorne and Eva who almost had to jog to keep up with him. In the yard below, the officer was dusting himself off, as if he’d just been out in a light rain - he was dirty and a little ill-shaven, his hair a light blonde, and when he turned to face Biggs, Hawthorne could see icy grey-blue eyes.

“Captain!” called Biggs.

“Jawohl?”

“Next time you take my boys out on patrol, you clear it up with me first,” snapped Biggs.

“There was no time,” replied the captain. “I saw something beyond the ruins and had to confirm-”

“I don’t know what the hell they do in the German Army, but here there’s a chain of command,” said Biggs. “Remember that.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So what d’you got for me?” he asked.

“They’re starting to land armour at - what you say? Red Hook?” said the captain. “Heavy tanks. But they seem to lack anti-aircraft capability. I didn’t see any guns or rockets at their landing sites.”

“So if we take out their positions on Governors Island,” mused Hawthrone.

“Ah, we have not been introduced, Major…” The captain left the sentence open.

“Hawthorne. 1st Battalion, Rifle Brigade,” said Hawthorne. “Here on direct orders from General Carville.”

“Captain Gunter von Esling.” The captain saluted.

“Von Esling? As in the general?” quizzed Eva.

“Ja,” said von Esling. “He is… mein vater. Although we do not speak.”

“Von Esling Senior didn’t want his kid in uniform,” Biggs interjected. “He said…”

Hawthorne glared at Eva and Biggs.

“Fascinating though this gossip is,” she grunted, “I’d like to stick to business. Captain von Esling, you say there’s limited Soviet anti-air capability in this area?”

“Ja, most of it seems to be positioned on the island,” said von Esling. “My guess is that the Reds regard New York City more as a political target than a military one. Most of their naval commitment seems to come from older battleships and cruisers, as well as those dirigible terror fliers. A sustained aerial counterattack could make it more trouble than it is worth.”

“Where the hell are we gonna get the planes from?” demanded Biggs.

“How many men do you need to take out the rockets on Governors Island?” asked Hawthorne.

“Take out?!” spluttered Biggs. “What the hell are you-”

“Give me two squads and I’ll handle it - we can take abandoned boats from the riverside,” replied von Esling.

“Get it done, captain,” said Hawthorne.

“Those are my men!” exclaimed Biggs. “You can’t-”

“We stay here and defend without taking out those guns, we’re all dead,” said Hawthorne firmly. “Your men included. Get me some comms equipment, we’ll try to patch in the air force.”

“I…” Biggs bit his tongue. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

Hawthorne gazed into the distant Manhattan skyline. She could see the smoke of distant fires, and parachutes around the Empire State Building. Light infantry, she thought - if we can cut them off from their air and artillery support, if the sea could be cleared of ships… maybe, just maybe, they could hold.

“We’re stopping them here,” she said firmly.

#command and conquer #red alert 2 #writing #red alert

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