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Wo     The Abyssal fleet's movements through these waters is, by now, no real news. The extra danger and uncharted regions make it an ideal sanctuary for them, in the multiverse, with relatively few local navies willing to pursue them even before being greeted by the graveyards of derelict ships. This very familiarity, however, has also attracted some unusual attention: Some open-minded trade merchant, Confederate-sympathising but otherwise neutral, has decided to move a sensitive shipment through the Northern Loop, counting on that same forboding to further safeguard it. The problem was the lack of human crews familiar with it, as well as trained in combatting the dangers. That is where the Abyssal fleet came in.

    As something of the approachable middle-management, it was Wo that had been approached by this unusual surface person, to set up the deal. It was certainly unusual, but with her awakening to the importance of relations, as well as wanting to sample how honest living feels, she and a detachment of Abyssal ships that felt similarly took the job. "Excellent," the tradesman beamed, his salesman background and trained tolerance of unusual dealings making certain he did not stare overlong. "I will handle everything from this end. All you must do is accompany my ships."

    That was a week ago. These things take time to prepare, after all, especially with red tape in the way. The first Abyssal convoy is now underway, however, several cargo freighters being flanked by mostly 'small' and maneuverable destroyers and light cruisers. At either end, some larger ships act to set the pace, and to watch the vulnerable rear of the columns as they move through monster-infested waters. It is certainly an unusual sight, and one that would be prone to both misunderstandings and calls to investigate their obvious movements, given that they usually prefer to remain submerged.

    Even further afield, the Wo-class carrier watches her passive radar carefully, accompanied by a most unusual creature: She stands much taller than the carrier, the distinctive turrets of a battleship corroded but likely still deadly. A darkened silhouette that has a distinctive feature, even though it has become something of a jagged crown, to compliment piercing red eyes. "...every-thing is going, well," Wo comments to her counterpart, though did not expect much of an answer. This recent addition did not seem much for attempts at conversation. It reminded her of the Ko-class, in a way - and that is a worrisome thing. A laid back duty like this might help keep her from snapping, if their circumstances are the same.
Shigure     Shigure and Nowaki flank Kuma, with Chitose trailing a bit further behind. They've heard of the movements, especially the fact that Abyssals were seen /escorting/ surface vessels. "Fifth Force Recon Fleet to Union and Combined Fleet Command... Abyssal Convoy on long range surface radar. Count three surface vessels, four destroyers and two light cruisers, plus unknown contacts." announces Shigure, her clear blue eyes scanning the distant targets as they crest over the horizon.

    Kuma nods to Shigure. "Close up formation... Chitose, hang back here and provide air cover, kuma." she says, looking over her shoulder when addressing the Seaplane tender. "Line Abreast, eyes on a swivel, kuma."
Marisa Kirisame     'A very interesting shipment' indeed. There are usually very good reasons to safeguard those particular brands of shipments. There's no telling who'd be avaricious and reckless enough to charge in to try and take it for themselves. That the Abyssal fleet is doing convoy duty is probably fortuitous for this conovy.

Because there's something /else/ that shows up on the radar.

And it's moving very, very fast.

    It begins as a little twinkle of light in the distant sky, but it soon grows to be much, much more. Standing atop a broom like a surfer streaking across the sky, surrounded by a halo of starlight and a quartet of orbiting bodies, clad in a distinctively witchy black-and-white ensemble, this could only be one person.

Kirisame Marisa has come to steal all the precious things.

    "Hoo boy, they weren't kidding when they said oceans were big," Marisa laughs through a wide, cheerful and maybe too-predatory grin. "Those things down there look pretty damn huge too. But if the rumors are true, then..." Marisa shoots down out of the sky and hovers... Just over the Abyssal formation, her orreries whirling like a halo of meteors. "Ahoy there!" The witch yells, "I hear there's some interestin' booty in those ships. Y'all wouldn't mind it if I took a few samples here and there, would'ja?"
Wo     In a way, it was expected they would get some attention. Certainly, other sentries of the deep had eyes on them already. Wo's words were simultaneously relief and also expecting that it wouldn't last. Or, maybe, this 'new' Abyssal is just bringing them bad luck. Regardless of the case, the approach of the Fifth Recon is itself not unmissed; an I-class destroyer, wreathed in golden flame - a flagship!? - and equipped with surface radar, notices several contacts on the fringe. While there are no incoming shells yet, especially at this range, it nonetheless relays this information through their psychic-like radio connection, sending the other destroyers and light cruisers buzzing and growling between each other. Nonetheless, they do not divert from the plans, just yet.

    The Wo-class also receives this information, but even squinting or glowering at the horizon would not betray the purpose or identity of those other ships, just yet. Simply as a precaution, she gestures a hand forward, the toothed maw of her hat hinging open and the distinctive screeching of Abyssal jet turbines issuing out of it. A wing of five fighters emerge, expanding to their full two meters of size shortly after. Then, there is a new contact to worry about - coming in at incredible speed, even compared to her own jets. "...wo?" It would have to suddenly become very busy.

    The human crews of the cargo ships try not to show any anxiety, but there certainly is some. Girls that suddenly come out of the sky are nothing but trouble, in their experience. On the other hand, they'll just have to trust their guardians. One of the ship's captains tries to talk some sense into this young lady, anyway: "This convoy is off-limits to beggars, girl! Go look for handouts somewhere else." ...err, yeah, not an A-student in Diplomacy. "In case you haven't noticed, these ships with us have guns, and we'll give ya to the count of five before we call them on ya." It's a silent count, TENSION.

    Speaking of, back at their little command central, the Wo-class has eyes on the situation thanks to the fighters, and her normally even expression turns to one of annoyance. It wasn't a plane, but some surface person, on a flying broom. "Be ready - to move in," she remarks to her mysterious counterpart. "Yes," comes the short, reverbed acknowledgement. The cruisers and destroyers have much the same change in disposition, in the latter case opening their maws as ridiculously large, relative to their sizes, 5-inch cannons emerge from their mouths, swiveling towards the more immediate threat: Marisa.
Shigure     "High Speed contact on air radar!" warns Shigure, shifting her position in formation to take point. She reaches back and unhitches her backpack cannons, sweeping the two assemblies around, readying up for Anti-Air fire. Small turrets spring out of the main body, the little machine gun nests swiveling and tracking the sky, while the two larget autocannon turrets sit ominously still, until needed.

    Kuma frowns a bit, then radios to Chitose. "We need some scout planes, kuma. Lets see what we have to work with, kuma!"

    Chitose hmms, then reloads her launcher rails, the little biplane scouts loading up their fairy pilots, before with rushes of steam power, they're launched ahead to scout the way. Noone's firing just yet, they're out of effective range for their small caliber cannons anyway.
Marisa Kirisame     Oho. Look at all those men and all those guns. Marisa breathes a long, shrill whistle. "Oh, fine. I thought I'd come all this way and come away with something worthwhile, buuuuut~" the witch sighs theatrically, drawing back up and away from the Abyssal flotilla with a melodramatic flip of her broom. "I guess I'll just have to leave empty handed. Ah well."

Is... is she just going to leave?

She's going higher and higher... Maybe she'll go peacefully?

Ahahahahahahahahahahaha fat chance.

    Marisa whistles a song that sounds distinctly sea-shanty-ish as she pulls higher into the sky. She plucks a handful of little blue vials from her bandolier. She speeds up as if to fly away, but from her altitude, she's able to safely drop those little phials of magical fluid over those distinctly un-ship-like 'ships.'

    The witch speeds away, completing her promise to just vanish off into the horizon utterly absent of any booty to speak of... But her little spark doesn't vanish. It hangs in the sky for a moment, and then blazes right back in. But she doesn't just do a fly-by. The orreries surrounding her blaze to life as well, the orbs emitting lances of blinding, cerulean light that sweep through air and sea as the little witch decides to TAKE ON AN ARMADA.

But it's not just lasers that the abyssals have to worry about.

    Those little vials begin glowing brightly as soon as Marisa's beams scythe close enough. Their light doubles, then triples as the reaction propagates, before finally becoming too much for the glass to contain any longer. And then...

KABOOOOOOM

    "If you won't give it up peacefully," Marisa laughs like some kind of horribly wicked witch, "I'll just have to take what you've got by force! Don't worry, I won't sink your boats, but once I'm done with these ships, you're forkin' the loot over! I know you've a grimoire in there, and I WANT IT!"
Wo     The vials are much too small to appear on any reasonable radar that the ships would have equipped. It's hard to say if Marisa would consciously even know what a radar is, but when she seemingly turns to leave, the Wo-class carrier gives a troubled sound from deep in her throat. The Abyssal fighters at her command do a flyover of their own, but bank sharply again. Change of plans, then, which she relays to the Abyssal battleship next to her: "...take, a detach-ment, with you. Make certain...those other ships, won't inter-fere." The large dreadnought hesitates, perhaps sensing the misfortunate turn about to occur? Or could it be something else. "...some-thing wrong," inquires the carrier? "...No," comes the reverbed reply. In the quiet before the storm, she finally leaves the carrier's company, steaming ahead, with two of the I-class Destroyers leaving formation and joining her, on a course to meet Kuma's own group.

    Things are quiet, even though the remain tense, though it is quickly broken as Marisa once again enters, this time with fury! The sailors aboard the ships all run for cover, especially the one with the loudmouth of a captain, who himself remains defiant in the light show. "Ya cowards! Going to let just one Elite put the fear in." He says so right as an errant (or was it) beam of light, like is currently buffeting the decks of his convoy, blows his hat off. You're gonna pay for that! "Abyssal fleet, it's time to earn your pay! Open fire already!"

    As if they needed the excuse. The I-class destroyers buzz eagerly among themselves, despite some disturbingly, almost human screams and howls as two of them receive solid laser impacts to their outer hulls: A curious arrangement that appears to be some kind of gross, black flesh overlaying a steel foundation. The slightly more humanoid Ho-class light cruisers return fire as best they can, loading flak rounds into the cannons that bristle across their back, and filling the air around Marisa with countless clouds of shot. Despite that, one's 'helmeted' head glances up with its toothy rim somehow managing a deer in headlights look, right before a bomb explodes in its non-face. "GUYAAAH!!" It doesn't sink, no, but it rocks in the waves, thrown off-balance.

    The anti-air fire might not be too difficult for an experience danmaku artist to evade, but it's soon accompanied by more directed fire: The wing of Abyssal fighters scream back onto the scene, their autocannons opening fire and not pulling any punches. A witch makes an unusual target for them, but they buzz and radio squelch between each other just as eagerly as the destroyers in the sea below.

    While all of this is happening, meanwhile, the Abyssal battleship continues to follow her last order. From the suddenly emerging smoke of battle, lit up by the vibrant laser beams, the 'Ya-class' ship, in her tattered and weathered kimono, appears, flanked by destroyers. Any trace of color has been replaced by either black or white - showing that Marisa isn't the only one that can rock this look. An incoming bomb vial impacts one of the I-class astride her, sending it tumbling in the sea, but she continues onward with what she has. Something driving her forward, as the shapes of Kuma, Shigure and Chitose slowly resolve into humanoid profiles. 'I don't know... Why my heart is in pain... But I'll remove the source...' A white, horned mask, with the visage of a cursed oni, gives some reasonable deniability - but Shigure could be forgiven to mistake the tall ornament and overall shape, from such a distance, even if the 35.6 cm guns swinging forward ominously make the disposition clear.
Shigure Shigure's determined expression quickly fades into a look of shock as that silhouette emerges from the smoke... it's like a replay of her nightmares all over again, only this time she's very much awake. "Y-Yamashiro...?" She slows down, eyes locked onto the oni mask... no, a bit higher, that ruined pagoda mast hair ornament.

    Chitose is further back, and quickly reloads her Zuiun wing. "Fly quickly." she says, then launches them in rapid succession.

    Kuma blinks as Shigure falls behind, then turns her golden gaze back to the battleship. She grits her teeth. "Fifth Fleet, disengage, we're no match for a battleship, kuma!" she says.

    Nowaki remains silent, glaring as she hefts her purse cannon.

    Shigure shakes her head, then picks up speed again. "I won't leave her behind again!" She's going flank speed, straight for the Abyssal Dreadnaught...
Marisa Kirisame That is a lot of anti-air fire.

But dealing with that kind of stuff is basically what Marisa /does./

    Flak shells fill the sky with jet black cloudbursts. Marisa swings in darting circles, leading each explosion and each trail of machinegun fire almost as if she were applying classic streaming tactics to naval warfare! But then there are /planes./

    "Ohoho, now it's gettin' interesting!" Marisa grins as the fighters dart in. She twists aside as they close in, her movements becoming erratic, careless, and yet so much faster. The orreries widen their field of fire through the Abyssal Fleet as she begins dogfighting with their interceptors.

She can't just let a bunch of machinegunners go unanswered though.

    The witch twists away, narrowly dodging a stream of autocannon fire as she swings back down towards the ships below. Arcs of intercepting fire twist through the sky, a trio of shots graze through her tremendously fuzzy hat, inciting a sound that's somewhere between a frustrated hiss and an ecstatic laugh. "Not bad, but--"

Several more vials glitter in her wake.

They explode into HOMING MAGIC MISSILES that immediately target the planes pursuing her.

    Lasers rake through the sea as she weaves in-between the larger ships. She passes right by that stubborn, mouthy captain and... flips him the bird.

Twice.

    Marisa swings right past though, her beams firing on the hulls of the longer, larger, toothier creatures. More bullets pour in, blasting holes in the hem of her dress as she sweeps just clear of them, to. And then she sees...

Wo.

    Comes right up next to her, actually. Her eyes glimmer as she takes notice of the staff in her hands. That's... Interesting. Like a conductor to a band. The orreries pivot, taking aim on the carrier as Marisa passes by. More beams lance out as she clears the fleet and takes again to the sky. "Come on," Marisa laughs, "Gimme all you've got! Send up all those little buzzers of yours! Let's have a show!"
Wo     Painful memories, or rather, fragments of them. That is all the recently awakened revenant of a ship has. Certainly, the built-in distrust of fleet daughters and surface people was present, but it runs even deeper. There is no way the Wo-class could have known what she was sending her into. At proper contact distance, the robed ship stops with her companion, and despite the inherent aggression makes no further move forward, at first. She still has her orders, and that was only to halt and dissuade any further snooping...even if she can feel 'something' closeby. Glowing red embers stare down Kuma's squad, but appear to fixate on Shigure in particular, especially as the Destroyer breaks formation and defies her orders.

    The drumming beat of a pulse courses through her: But it is not the kind that gives life to mortals, instead circulating a torrent of confusion, pain, and anger, and visible as glowing red lines that snake across what ghostly pale flesh is exposed. The tall-masted Abyssal siezes up for a moment as she is racked by it, but Shigure's approach gives her the target she needs. Anything to stop the pain. "...who...are you," she demands, a tear more oil than saline trailing from beneath the mask? "If you sink... I won't...see these - things, anymore..." She had her orders, but the trouble with these more willful Abyssals is they just run off on their own sometimes. And that is exactly what happens as she suddenly opens fire on Shigure, all her cannons blazing. The I-class beside her hesitates, showing surprising restraint for one of its kind, but soon caves in to what looks like fun, its own, 5 inch shots directed toward Chitose mid-launch.

    Not so far away...

    The captain gets flipped the bird, which if he still had his hat on, he'd throw it at that cheeky witch! She's a small target, but can't they just shoot her down or something? He gestures meaningfully at the crew now manning the machine gun batteries, "Double rations for the rest of the trip to any one that brings her down! And bring me the hat as a trophy!" Oh, now it's really personal! And the density of fire in the air just keeps growing more intense. That just seemingly means that Marisa is in her element, though. The ships gargle between themselves in some language incomprehensible to average human ears, but the overall tone is confusion on how to deal with a surface person that flies. The aircraft are less worried, likely from having less inherent intelligence, but their buzzing does become feverish as they take evasive maneuvers from the missiles. Surprisingly maneuverable, but one still gets a wing grazed. Unlike for Gensokyo residents, this isn't a good thing - it spirals into the sea, slamming into it.

    Wo is not amused by Marisa's antics. Or, rather, she doesn't really seem to show much emotion about it at all. The staff in her hands does appear to be a focus of swords, since as she angles it again in her gloved hands, the remaining fighters veer again. As Wo makes a minute adjustment to her positioning - a natural thing when dealing with one such as Marisa, one shot she couldn't avoid is taken instead by one of the fighters which screams out of the air to do so, crumpling to the sea and leaking a black ichor. "Not interested - in a, show," she says, her mouth managing a hint of a frown. "But I'll re-move, you." With that, the other three fighters re-enter the hat's maw, a fresh five emerging. With a target like Marisa, traditional tactics are meaningless. Once they're out, instead of remaining in formation, they scatter, beginning to climb. With another gesture of her staff, they suddenly dive again, their cannons rattling off an alarming amount of fire, from five different angles.
Marisa Kirisame Oh dear, that's EVEN MORE gunfire!

    Marisa barks out a laugh as the planes swoop down and the bullets pour in. You can barely hear her over the din of war! But she's talking. Oh yes she's talking. "There's always time for a show! Even out here," Marisa grins, her eyes peering avariciously at the rod in Wo's pale, clammy hands. "You just gotta live a little! Come on!"

    But one thing's for sure. There's a whole lot of bullets out here. Way too many to be comfortable. Marisa darts back away from the dive-bombing planes, the pounding of their autocannons hammering in her ear. One cluster of shots smashes into one of the orreries, causing it to burst into so many shards, but...

No! Not quite! Not JUST shards!

The glittering dust disperses all through the air. Marisa barrels RIGHT THROUGH IT. It sparkles brilliantly, and then...

KA-BOOM

MAGIC SIGN ~STARDUST REVERIE~

    Marisa cackles as she shoots through the clusters of brilliant, exploding stars. Her hakkero blazes to life in the palm of her hand, making up for the loss of one of her orreries with PERSONAL MAGIC MISSILE BLASTS. "HEY CAPTAIN," she yells through the din, "I'M CALLIN' THAT. If I win, I'll take your spare hat too!"
Shigure     Shigure is fixated too, on the Dreadnaught. "My name is Shigure... and that pain won't stop just because I sink." she replies jinking through the massive shell splashes, shrapnel shredding her serafuku and leaving dark scorched streaks across the skin that's exposed underneath. "You remember who you are... I know you do..." she pauses a moment, keeping her weapons down and relying on her speed and maneuverability to close the gap. "... Yamashiro."

    Kuma tchs. "Shigure! Saaaah, that girl'll be the death of me, kuma! Nowaki, cover Chitose, I'll get her back, kuma!"

    Nowaki nods, then turns to form up with Chitose, getting there just in time to counter snipe the 5inch shells out of the air with a burst from her 12.7cm cannons, both her purse gun and the mounted hip cannon firing and causing concussion bursts in the air as the shells strike and deflect one another.

    Chitose meanwhile closes her eyes, puppeteering her Zuiun into the fray. They're not dogfighting aircraft, but they're carrying a payload of bombs, which are directed not at the Ya-Class... but at it's escort fleet, trying to at least cripple them to reduce the incoming fire from that quadrant.

    Though reducing the support fire of a battleship is kind of pointless if you don't have a battleship of your own to soak fire and return it in kind.
Wo     The issue with that notion is that Wo isn't really alive, by some standards. She's just now beginning to get used to some surface dweller customs, but Marisa is lively, and noisy. She doesn't care much for that sort of thing, at least in her current incarnation. "Hmph..." It's more a soft exhalation than anything else, but she follows it up shortly, "This is...about more - than cargo, or shows. I won't, let you...tar-nish what respect, we have." The planes finish their dive: No bombs were released, at least, but their cannon fire blazing was more than enough to give Marisa some more graze build-up, as well as appearing to smash one of her orbiting options. Levelling off, they blast away, engaging Abyssal afterburners to return to their carrier again.

    Unfortunately for the other Abyssal ships, which are still firing anti-air to make maneuvering more difficult for Marisa, it seems that everything this witch owns can be turned into an explosive, should the need arise. The I-class and Ho-class ships buzz and hiss between each other to attempt to coordinate an evasion, while also avoiding hitting their own cargo ships, but one of each gets struck by proximity to a brilliant explosion! It isn't quite sinking, but they each flop onto their sides in a steep list. The cargo ships aren't completely immune to it, either. The gunnery fire slowing as the ships are tossed around a bit in the churning waters. Better hope that the merchant packed that grimoire well, if you were really intending to keep it!

    The flagship I-class destroyer from earlier, radar equipped, isn't about to take this lying down, either. It takes time to maneuver, into the witch girl's path. The golden aura around it flares for a moment, and then with a mighty thrust of its propulsion system, its bus-size body leaps out of the sea and alarmingly high into the air, cannon already emerging from its mouth and firing an explosive shell directly at her. It casts an ominous shadow on some of the cargo ships below, the crew hanging onto any object they can visibly freaking out a bit at the sight. "...they fly, too!?" "Fine, that's a deal," the loud captain somehow has no problem bellowing over the gunfire reports. With a fresh wing of real bombers prepared, the Wo-class takes time to telepathically contact the 'Ya-class'. But there doesn't seem to be a response.

    That's because she's preoccupied. "Shi- Gure," comes the echoing voice of the battleship, but despite slowly pronouncing it, it seems to bring little comfort, judging by another pulse of anguish visibly courses. Her shots fall wide, whether purposefully or not is hard to determine, but she continues firing all the same, even as she cannot fully concentrate with her vision clouding. "You were - there," she seethes, in half-recollection. But the other voices are strong, also. The ones telling her that the surface people can't be trusted - that the fleet daughters are traitors. That if she sinks these girls, she can be free and at peace. Her hands reach up to clench at her masked face and head, as more rounds issue out, even more erratically aimed than before - and possibly endangering the others of her group. A slightly more normal voice, blended with the reverbed one, emerges, "Stop!!"

    The I-class destroyer is joined by the one that had gotten bobbled earlier, reinforcing their position. They seem to be mostly clueless of the battleship's internal struggles on a higher level, but seem to be upset themselves by the waves of emotion rippling out from her. The deep connection of the Abyssals is also a disadvantage, at times, as others in the area also begin losing their coordination, to an extent. Even further afield, the Wo-class isn't immune, raising a gloved hand to rub at her forehead, underneath the rim of her humongous hat-creature. Something is wrong... The fire doesn't stop, falling off in accuracy but increasing in frequency as the feelings intensify. Even the crewmen on board the ships seem to sense it. "What's up with the ships? They're go
Wo     The I-class destroyer is joined by the one that had gotten bobbled earlier, reinforcing their position. They seem to be mostly clueless of the battleship's internal struggles on a higher level, but seem to be upset themselves by the waves of emotion rippling out from her. The deep connection of the Abyssals is also a disadvantage, at times, as others in the area also begin losing their coordination, to an extent. Even further afield, the Wo-class isn't immune, raising a gloved hand to rub at her forehead, underneath the rim of her humongous hat-creature. Something is wrong... The fire doesn't stop, falling off in accuracy but increasing in frequency as the feelings intensify. Even the crewmen on board the ships seem to sense it. "What's up with the ships? They're going all nutty." That's what happens when you hire moe sea monsters.

    Nonetheless, this means for Kuma and company that the destroyers they're dealing with don't let up, either, even seeing their last shots answered and destroyed mid-flight. They scarcely seem to register an incoming seaplane bomber, its payload presumably released and denting one of the destroyers' armor hides, before exploding a hole in its hull. It hisses and screams, its hinged mouth gurgling as it struggles to remain afloat. Congealed oil - the abyssal blood - spatters over the battleship's remains of a kimono, but the trance is too strong to care. "You're wrong," she repeats, the reverb returning strongly, "Sink... Shigure!" Since gun fire has been insufficient to stop the Destroyer's advance, she surges forward from her escorts. She'll do this manually if she has to!
Wo     And she intends to, reaching forward with a distressingly strong grip.
Marisa Kirisame     "Everything's a show! Or at least, everything SHOULD be a show!" Marisa replies with another laugh. She beams at the captain on his swaying vessel and flips a totally different finger. OR RATHER, A THUMB. "I'll hold you to it! Now, feast your eyes--"

    Guns continue to fire. A golden mouth-thing /LEAPS/ into the sky! Marisa gapes briefly as it soars, pivots, and then... vomits an artillery shell at her. An ARTILLERY SHELL. "What the hell!?" Marisa gaws, turning her beam weapons into the sky. She growls, blasting at the golden thing and its GIGANTIC BULLET.

Unfortunately, she can't stop the bomb.

She can, however, cause it to explode in mid-air.

    The witch goes flying as the bullet erupts in a great conflagration of flame and shrapnel. She hisses sharply as she's flung away, barely clinging to her broom. Blood drips from fresh wounds and gaps in her dress. "Ugh, damn, gonna need to watch for those next time."

But...

The ships are... losing accuracy?

That means OPPORTUNITY.

    Marisa grunts, flipping back on top of her trusty steed. "Alright. Let's do this," another set of glowing vials flip out into her hands. If she's going to win this one, she'll need to knock out that thing controlling their air-support. Which means...

    "Like I was saying," Marisa roars, surging though the maelstrom of machinegun fire. She makes a bee-line straight for Wo, hurling the cluster of glowing potions STRAIGHT INTO HER FACE. "FEAST YOUR EYES--"

There's a flash of light. The remaining orreries fire. So now there are also LASERS shooting at Wo's face!

And when the lasers close in on the vials...

KABOOOOOM!

"--ON THIS!"
Shigure     Shigure grunts, grasping at those icy cold hands as they wrap around her throat. She grunts, and chokes as those hands crush down with vice-like strength. She's lifted off the waters surface, legs dangling and kicking weakly. "... I'm sorry... Yamashiro..." she manages to gasp out as her world slowly goes dark.

    Kuma steams in, dodging around the incoming fire from various sources. She cocks her arm back, leaps up and slams a hammer punch into the side of that oni mask. "GET AWAY FROM HER YOU BITCH!" she roars putting everything she's got into getting Shigure out of Ya-class's grasp.
Wo     The song of the Abyssals reaches a fever pitch in the phantom ship's head, as this destroyer, Shigure, practically delivers herself. There is a second voice, still drowned out and murky, screaming for her to stop, else when that grip clutches her neck, it might have extinguished the already injured ship girl right then. The conflict is enough that before her consciousness gives out, some small trace of the battle within would be apparent to Shigure, more inhuman tears leaking from beneath the spontaneously cracked mask, painful eyes glowering, "Why did you...have to come..! This is - the end, for you..."

    Right as she was drawing back her other hand in preparation of the final blow, something strikes her. Not something physical, just yet, but those burning red eyes fixate on something else. The hair ornament worn on the crown of Shigure's head, in particular. Her hand hesitates there, twitching of barely restrained fury turning into confusion, made more pronounced by the billowing, if tattered sleeve. The pulse of red plays across her flesh again, as yet more memories continue to cloud and confuse her. "You..." Which voice does she listen to, as she stares openly at the now limp girl, held at arm's length.

    With their battleship's distraction, the escorting I-class do their best to keep Kuma at a distance, as she suddenly is surging in. With Kuma's urgency, all of their shots keep falling wide, and the buzz and gargle annoyedly! Stay away from THEIR big sister! One even leaps out of the water at Kuma as she closes the distance, but as it is a complete newcomer, is likely batted aside or evaded easily. Finally, the battleship herself snaps out of it with Kuma's imminent approach, not even having time to mount a defense with the ripples going through her clouded mind. Reflexively, her hold of Shigure loosens, as her head recoils back: Kuma's fist meets plenty of resistance - it is a battleship, after all - but that twisted oni's visage takes a lot of the brunt, as well. The crack that had appeared turns into a fracture, and it completely breaks away, leaving a being distinctively Yamashiro staring at Kuma askew.

    She remains motionless for a moment - perhaps all that Kuma needs, before covering her face with her hands, almost as if she were ashamed of it being seen. "STAY BACK," she half-growls, half-moans, in that characteristic reverb, firing her guns wildly considering she has her eyes covered. The I-class also would doggedly pursue, at least up until a certain distance. Better grab and go while the getting is good!
Shigure     Kuma grunts as she slams her fist into that thick armour. She's going to be feeling /that/ for a while. But with the tide turning for the worse, the cruiser scoops up the unconscious Destroyer and turns full flank in retreat. "Fifth Fleet, flank speed back to Hikari. Go!" The cruiser skates across the surface, sparing a look down at the young girl in her arms. "We'll find a way, kuma. I promise." she says to the unconscious girl, even as her hand throbs with likely fractured bones.

    Chitose launches another wing of Zuiun planes, these with torpedoes. They drop them early, more of a holding measure than anything else, before falling into an air-cover pattern above the fleeing fleet.
Wo     For what it's worth, the screen maneuvers appear to be working. Rather than continuing their pursuit at full bore, continuing to harass with 5 inch shells that land ever closer to the mark, the I-class destroyers have to break off and execute some sharp turns to avoid the seaplanes' torpedoes. They continue to buzz, at first worriedly, but then with that same sort of 'annoyance', if such things can be ascribed to what sounds like mechanized radio traffic. Sensing that they were drifting too far off from the others, though, especially the battleship in her time of greatest need, they cut their losses and begin to head back.

    By now, she is currently openly weeping on the waves, down on her knees and still holding her face in her hands. "Who am I...really..." That destroyer knew, she was there. Isn't it just some kind of cruel trick? The voices that had reached a crescendo in her head fade to background noise, and even with the I-class back around her, she still feels so...alone.

    END: Kuma Squad Segment!
Wo     By now, the Abyssal destroyers and light cruisers are whipped into a frenzy, from the emotional ripples flowing from the ghostly battleship. They never turn on the convoy they are protecting, instinct and the Wo-class carrier's control preventing that, but they do continue to fire shells at Marisa, frequency and urgency replacing accuracy. The sea around the area splashes and erupts as the errant rounds succumb to gravity, and if Marisa's goal was to create a show of it, even if unintentional, the Abyssal ships are actually cooperating with the notion. The cargo ships rock and churn in the rough seas, decks splashed with spray but somehow avoiding direct strikes. "I'm not getting paid enough for this," audibly laments one crewman, apparently beginning to question some life choices.

    The I-class wreathed in golden flame passes dangerously by Marisa, emerging from the vapors dissipating from its shell's explosion. A glowing beam from the eye on the side facing her, thankfully harmless, nonetheless 'visibly' scans her out, as its hinged jaw hangs open, buzzing at her. How the hell did something the size of a minivan spring out of the water this high, anyway? Once it's done...communicating, taunting, or whatever...it glides back down towards the sea, leaving her to recover from the burst, and fading into the quite literal fog of war the other ships are creating. More importantly, it gives a 'break' in the action, which the Wo-class is also aiming to take advantage of. Having freshly exerted her will to fight back against the 'Ya-class' negative emotional pressure, she stands firm on the waves, or rather a few inches directly above, gloved hands gripping the top of her staff, as the cavernous maw of her hat opens again. A glow from the foundry within is accented by the by-now distinctive buzzing chatter of yet more planes about to be launched.

    That is, when out of the haze, a shape emerges. Enemy aircraft!? Yet, those don't wear witch hats with holes shot in them. The carrier's face has only a few moments to register something that vaguely looks like surprise, before she lifts an arm and her body shifts to brace against the expected, incoming fire. "Wo!!" Nonetheless, she isn't used to fighting actual magic users, and it doesn't take the form of her expected dive bombs or rounds of projectile ammunition. A few of the earlier arriving potions shatter against her braced arm, as well as the hat atop her head, causing her to voice confusion -- but the lasers that follow are certainly familiar enough, the combination blasting and burning. She doesn't give a pained reaction, but as she finally weathers it, her hat now is pitted and dented, with scorch marks scored across its outer, fleshy layer. She looks more curious at her arm, though - the sleeve of her white upper garment practically gone on that way, leaving only scorched tears of it left at the bicep. Her bare arm, as pale as the sleeve that once covered it, is bruised black, and leaking what looks like congealed oil.

    Once she has time to finish processing it, though, she gazes to Marisa with glowing, amber eyes, and her eyebrows furrow into anger, hands clenched. Uncertain of the condition of her flight deck, and with the witch this close, she opts instead to channel these frustrated feelings into the two defensive batteries on either side of her monstrous crown. The tips glow red, before bursts of similar-hued lasers try to harass Marisa back to a more comfortable distance, "Wo!!" Yeah, meaningful dialogue is over, there's too much stuff assaulting her senses.
Marisa Kirisame     Everything is showbiz! It ain't magic if it ain't flasy! Danmaku's all about firepower! And there sure is a whole hell of a lot of firepower here. Towers of saltwater erupt all around her. The world turns into a mess of fine mist and heavy weaponry! But the ships have lost the coordination that makes massed armadas so deadly. A ton of random shots may be a pain in the ass to predict, but when half of them are going completely wide, dodging isn't as hard as it might seem.

    And then that weird Golden I-Class pops out of the sea and has the gumption to not only survive the explosion that almost dropped her, but to FLASHLIGHT at her, too! "I don't like what you're doin' with that eye of yours, buddy--" Marisa says, flashing a fierce grin of her own. "--So instead, why don't you get a load a' this?" She finger-guns at the thing with her spare hand, and goes--

'BANG.'

A blue beam lances out, aimed right at the golden I-Class' golden eye! If it doesn't duck below the waves quick, it might find that it's become a 1I-Class!

Puns aside, there's business to take care of.

Like Wo's close-in weapons systems.

    "Oho, you've got some beams too, huh?" Marisa laughs, lunging out of the way of one laser, only for the second to crash into one of her remaining orreries. Shards of shattered, magical glass scatter into sea and vanish beneath the waves, winking out in dwindling twinkles of arcane light. "Not bad," she mutters, her Hakkero suddenly glowing in her palm, "But I've got a bigger one."

    Not that she's willing to break it out /quite/ yet. That might result in blowing up that cargo ship! As much as that captain's been mouthing her off, Marisa would really rather not see him sink to the bottom of the sea with her new hat and books. And so, a more subtle solution is called for.

'More subtle' here still being significantly more showy than is probably sane.

    The remaining two orreries swivel in mid-flight, swirling in a tight ring around the Hakkero. Rays of light leap from the core of the little elemental reactor to each of the two spheres. They begin to glow, a white blaze overtaking them. Marisa grunts as another laser passes by, singing the top of her hat. But by then, the two orreries had gone blindingly, intensely WHITE. "I've got TWO OF THEM, in fact!" Marisa grins, levelling her weapon at the Wo-class, and AWAY from the transport. "Here we go! Debuting after several years off the stage!!"

LOVING HEART - DOUBLE SPARK!!!

    A thunderclap! A hurricane gale! Light floods from the two orbs, forming twin columns of brilliant, technicolored light! Marisa roars as the beams pour outward, water flash-boiling to steam in their wake! Is this what is meant by 'superior firepower!?'
Wo     The I-class was mostly just eyeballing Marisa. So, to actually get a response from this close was somewhat unexpected! It veers slightly, the beam missing its mark, but still burning a scar into its outer hull, an action that causes it to growl in annoyance more than pain! At least Marisa will have a way to tell which destroyer this is, should they meet again in the future. Regardless, it has effectively left the battle theater with this, as in the clouds of water vapor, it is likely trying to herd its flock for a more effective counter-attack than just firing quasi-randomly.

    The other ships are so preoccupied that they barely even seem to notice that the witch has left their target area. It takes a few moments, and the destroyer with the golden aura's efforts, to make them fully realize this and begin to recalibrate their shelling. This is all the opening needed to make straight for the Wo-class and attack! Not that it is without retaliation: Red beams blast away, dual purpose guns currently focusing on anti-air with high frequency. She isn't holding back, but given that Marisa's attacks seem to make use of those orbiting orreries, she is keyed in on those - not that she would complain with a direct strike. What she hadn't counted on, though, was Marisa possessing yet another source of arcane power: The mini-hakkero. While she isn't certain exactly what that does, going by the chaos Marisa had already caused among the fleet, it wasn't going to be good. Her defensive batteries strain with ponderous sounds of grinding metal, refocusing on it with those red beams.

    Meanwhile, the flight deck has determined that it's still in good enough condition to launch, albeit at slightly diminished capacity. The mouth once again opens, turbine screeching from inside as the fiery cauldron blazes, and then a fresh wing of three fighters emerges, everything simultaneously with Marisa's charging up, her body lurching forward for additional bracing as she pours all of her effort into survival. Her eyes, visible from beneath the brim of her bulbous monster hat, remain fixed on Marisa, a determined furrow of her brow expressing defiance that her words currently cannot. She won't allow her fleet to be embarassed by some witch!

    Then, the rainbow(s).

    It's a testament to Wo's willpower that, at least for a few moments, her own counter attack manages to further diverge the beams. The Abyssal fighters slam into the beams, autocannons blaring, and reinforced by the quadruplet of beams from Wo's flight deck, itself. Nonetheless, it can't be kept up forever, especially against such overwhelming and colorful power. The ghostly black jet aircraft begin visibly crumbling from the effort, the outer shell cracking, before the force finally blows them clear and splashing down into the turbulent sea. Without their added fire and presence, the twin beams also eventually overwhelm Wo's effort, the flight deck taking the brunt of it, but eventually her entire body bathed in the purifying light, which lasts a crazy amount of time for coming from just one little witch.

    When it does finally, hopefully, fade, Wo remains standing at a kneel for a few moments, before...inelegantly faceplanting into the water, whatever energy reserves that power an abyssal completely depleted. The I-class destroyers nearby, that had been planning to move into an escort flank, instead pause and buzz between each other, as if trying to decide what to do. Should Marisa eventually move away enough, they'll do what comes naturally: Tow. They were heading for another harbor soon, anyway.

    The human ship captain gestures meaningfully to his deck crews, meanwhile, and all anti-air fire stops. He's made a calculated decision here. "Fine, you just want those stupid books, right?" "And your hat, skipper!" "--and my hat. I knew those things were going to be trouble the moment I saw them on the ledger. Take what ya want, and skedaddle!" If only they had been so reasonable(*) from the beginning. With the cargo convoy's captain
Wo     When it does finally, hopefully, fade, Wo remains standing at a kneel for a few moments, before...inelegantly faceplanting into the water, whatever energy reserves that power an abyssal completely depleted. The I-class destroyers nearby, that had been planning to move into an escort flank, instead pause and buzz between each other, as if trying to decide what to do. Should Marisa eventually move away enough, they'll do what comes naturally: Tow. They were heading for another harbor soon, anyway.

    The human ship captain gestures meaningfully to his deck crews, meanwhile, and all anti-air fire stops. He's made a calculated decision here. "Fine, you just want those stupid books, right?" "And your hat, skipper!" "--and my hat. I knew those things were going to be trouble the moment I saw them on the ledger. Take what ya want, and skedaddle!" If only they had been so reasonable(*) from the beginning. With the cargo convoy's captain calling things off, the Abyssals oddly seem compliant with this, buzzing and gargling at a lower volume and fever.
Marisa Kirisame     None can stand before the power of the Spark! Two sparks even moreso, especially since two is usually better than one! As her twin beams finally fade into motes of flickering, heart-fluttering energy. Wo... Does not weather the onslaught so well. Marisa breathes a tired but victorious sigh as the Abyssal slumps forward into the churning waves.

    The other Abyssal Ships seem to be sort of... Wary at the loss of what was probably their commander (judging by how she's actually relatively more humanoid than the others. Gensokyo's logic still prevails, even here!). This means only one thing.

It's time to loot the body!

    Marisa whistles more of than cheery little sea-shanty as she zooms on over towards the prone Abyssal ship, looking for something... Something. Maybe the hat? But she's already getting a hat, and two hats in one day is a bit much. But what about...

Aha! The rod she was using to control these weird monster ships!

    Could it... Could it be a Familiar Control Rod!? Marisa giggles a mischevious little laugh, zooming down to snatch the cane out of the water before it can sink into the depths. This'll do nicely! But a new walking stick isn't exactly the reason she came all this way.

    After a quick burst of flight, the tired but still BRILLIANTLY GRINNING witchgirl hops down onto the deck of the transport. She gives the captain a wink and a smirk, "Yup! Just the books." Marisa hops, snatching the captain's hat- THE SOURCE OF ALL HIS POWER- from the taller man's head, "And this. See, that wasn't so hard, right? And you guys got a pretty neat show out of the deal!"

"Now, where're those grimoires?"
Wo     The staff that Marisa seeks, despite apparently being made of aged steel faded into a blackened patina, actually bobs in the sea close to where the Wo-class carrier's outstretched hand had dropped it. That might only make it all the curiouser, though. Much like its wearer, the hat appears to be barely conscious at this point, the vents atop it that form its eyes almost seeming to have lost focus, while its mouth hangs open at the water line. Nonetheless, she isn't completely out of it yet -- and as Marisa goes to retrieve her staff, a pang of urgency somehow strikes her. The hat rolls off her head, itself still remaining afloat, as she half-rises, staring at the witch through her mussed, silver hair, "W-wo...!" But she can't really do much besides reach helplessly, as she's dead in the water at this point, but her voice is almost mournful. Must be something very precious!

    Elsewhere, the captain keeps his word, calling off the few human guards to stand aside. He visibly grumps when Marisa fetches his particular of the prize package, rolling his eyes a bit, but at least on some level he must have appreciated the break in monotony, since a bit of a smirk of his own plays through his exterior. "Second deck underneath. The guy that loaded them on had them wrapped up in locks n' chains. That's how I knew they'd be trouble." Nothing that needs to be locked up is a good thing to keep around. He gives a sharp whistle, summoning one of his crew, "Take her to `em. Make it quick! We got a schedule to keep." He'll figure out how to explain this later, as he watches two of the I-class destroyers finally group up around the freshly re-prone Wo-class, and fire out towing cables to resume following the convoy, now lead by that golden I-class from before.
Marisa Kirisame     Marisa would pause just ever so briefly at Wo's sudden protests, but only for a moment. She flashes the ship a smile, "Sorry! Spoils of victory an' stuff. I'm just borrowin' it, so I'll be sure to return it someday! Promise~"

PROMISE MADE

Will she keep it!?

IT'S MARISA KIRISAME so... maybe.

    At least the captain is in reasonably good humor. That's the sort of thing she likes to see! Magic should always be entertaining, after all. "Yeah, I've seen a few books all bound up in chains and locks and stuff before. Never a good thing. One girl I know opened one once, and we almost blew up her home town!" Well, what was left of it, anyway. Marisa lifts her own tattered hat and settles the captain's (oversized) one on her head in its place. The books goes into her big, poofy witch-hat for safe keeping, which in turn ends up in her loot-sack along with the Familiar Staff. "That should be it," she says with a nod, "Everything worked out better than I expected!"

Once she returns to the deck, Marisa takes a moment to bid farewell to the freshly dehatted captain of the vessel and her crew, before taking off into the horizon...

    Her departure is briefly interrupted when she elects to shoot /back/ across the sky, this time leaving a contrail of perfectly harmless but amazingly colorful lights in her wake. The result is something like a man-made milky way, blazing a trail over the sailing ships.

Even a farewell's gotta have pizzaz, after all!