Disclaimer: Horni Montpelier
In hindsight, I should have made this an April Fools chapter.
Frick.
Reviews:
John: "Bust faster than the Netherlands did their own dams." Oh I am so going to use that in my creative writing class.
The One: Holy crap. Montpelier is a tsundere. Oh my gosh. I didn't even notice that. You know, after watching so much anime, you would think I would identify what tropes my characters are, but apparently, I don't even know what a tsundere is lmao
Stuka: TOO LATE! You have been surrounded by the CULT OF INDY
Severak: Character dynamics are always my favorite thing to write. Plot, on the other hand...
Montpelier's POV:
"Kick higher!" Portland shouted, holding the cushion near her chest. Intrepid swung her leg upwards. I grimaced as she yelped in pain as her leg reached the height of Portland's stomach.
For the sister of Essex, Intrepid was quite pathetic.
"Are you okay?" Portland hurried over to the carrier, who was now lying on the grass, gripping her thigh.
There is no way that this inflexible hunk of metal beat my rival Portland in a fight. Nuh-uh. If she can't even kick higher than her waist, then it becomes pitifully easy to evade her attacks as all she can do is punch. Apparently, Intrepid didn't pay enough attention in class to learn how to switch attack styles.
"Learn to touch your toes!" I taunted from the patio chair across the lawn.
"Get some ice!" Portland ordered, crouching down.
"I don't have to listen to you!" I shouted back, reaching for a glass of water.
"Montpelier!?" Portland warned, tending to Intrepid.
.
.
.
.
I got up with the bag and walked to them. "I'm not a part of your church, okay? This is only because I feel bad for you lower beings, okay?"
"Why thanks." Intrepid dryly groaned, rubbing the bag against her leg.
"We are all lower beings underneath the holy grace of Indy." Portland got up and carried Intrepid to the patio. I held any emotion from my face as I pushed my jaw back up.
.
.
How strong even was this Cruiser? Aniki struggles to hold up destroyers, and she's picking up an entire Carrier? Front line ships are a whole cut different.
.
.
.
.
"I am mildly surprised that you can hold Intrepid." I tried to pry information from Portland as she walked by. "She must be very heavy. How did you get this strong?"
"If you make fat jokes, I'll make height jokes." Intrepid glared.
"So how do you carry such a weight?" I asked Portland.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Portland?"
.
.
.
I inspected her closer. Sweat was running down her cheeks and her face was slowly turning purple. A few seconds later, Intrepid was dropped to the ground.
"Owww!" Intrepid rubbed her back as she slowly got up. Portland, meanwhile, placed her now red hands on her knees and panted.
I took a sigh of relief.
Of course! Obviously my rival can't be an Aircraft Carrier Carrier. I doubt even battleships could even lift that much. There's no way she's that much stronger than the rest of us. Who am I kidding?
.
.
"Intrepid, how much do you weigh?" Portland gasped, wiping sweat off her forehead.
Intrepid muttered an indistinguishable number. I perked my ears.
"Intrepid?" Portland asked again.
"36000 tones" Intrepid whispered.
.
.
"Is that rounded correctly?" I grinned.
"37000 tones." Intrepid murmured.
"Louder please?" I tiled my head.
.
.
"37000 tones." Intrepid spoke quietly.
"I can't hear you~" I placed my head next to my ear.
.
.
.
.
.
"37000 tones." Intrepid barely increased her volume.
"Say it like you mean it!" I waved my fist in the air.
"Shut up you midget." Intrepid pulled on my ear.
"Oowowowoowowow" I held on to my hand as Intrepid began to pull me.
"Let her go." Portland saved my hearing as Intrepid stopped.
"Fine." Intrepid pinched me one last time before sitting down.
"Uncalled for." I rubbed my ears as Intrepid stuck her tongue out.
"But do you really weigh that much?" Portland asked.
"Yeah." Intrepid shot me a glare, daring me to say something. I kept my mouth shut.
.
"I suppose that makes sense." Portland rubbed her arms. "I was only able to carry Saratoga for a few minutes during the press brief, and she's only 25000 tones."
"Bullcrap." Intrepid clicked her tongue.
"Somebody's Jelly~" I snorted.
"But don't you think that's a little generous?" Intrepid argued. "Like, that's almost cruiser displacement." (1)
"But why would Saratoga lie about her weight?" Portland asked. "It's not like you get any disadvantages from being heavier."
.
"Yeah," I nudged Intrepid. "People who are self conscious about their weight are just sad uncertain losers, am I right?"
"And people who care about their height are short uncertain losers." Intrepid rubbed her fist on my hair.
"Knock it off." Portland gently slapped Intrepid's wrist. "Your leg's feeling better now, right?"
"Yeah." Intrepid nodded.
"I think it's time we stop." Portland took the ice bag from her. "What about you?"
"That's sounds great." Intrepid reached for her coat.
"Alright we'll get dinner then." Portland dropped the cushion on the chair next to me and got her bag.
"Best thing you've said all day!" I stretched out before following her. This was my chance at Freedom! Holy crap, I'm almost there! "I'm starving, how about you?"
"Wait." Portland grabbed my collar. "Where do you think you are going?"
.
.
Darn it! I'm was close for getting home! No, it's not time to give up yet.
.
"Come on." I negotiated. "I won't run away from you if you buy me dinner, okay? If I get my food, I'll stay silent, how about that?"
"It still doesn't matter." Portland pulled me inside the house/shrine/prison. "If Cleveland or that fake Indy finds out about this, I'm screwed. You are staying here."
"But what about my dinner!" I took a brief glance at my surroundings. There was no food, no oven, and no microwave! There wasn't even a stove!
"There's some canned soup in the fridge." Portland walked outside.
"Am I supposed to drink cold soup for dinner?!" I shouted, throwing my healthy hand in the air.
"If that is not to your liking, we offer gourmet dog food." Intrepid locked the door behind her.
.
.
.
.
I glanced at the clock. 6:23. They've been gone for a while. Perhaps I'll get some peace now. I don't need them. I can enjoy my life quietly. I sipped on the cold broth that was my dinner as I watched the sun go down.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
My lord this is boring. At least I could laugh whenever Intrepid failed at fighting. Now I have literally nothing to do. How does Portland even live without a television? Her life must be extremely boring. Thus, obviously, I am the more productive individual! I puffed out my chest.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I glanced at the clock. 6:25. For Indy's sake, will Portland hurry up!
.
.
.
For Indy's sake…
Oh my God I'm turning into one of them. Am I a cultist? No no no no no no no. That was just a fluke. I am a staunch loyalist to Aniki. This Indy girl is nothing to me. I swear Aniki. I need to get out of here as soon as possible before I get tainted with this ... disease. (2)
I need to escape. I walked to the front door. It was locked. How do you lock a door from the inside? There has to be a key in here. I turned from the door and thought.
Where would Portland hide a key? I looked at my surroundings. Portland wouldn't hide them in the cupboard. I already checked that when I was making my "dinner". Under the bed?
I took a quick glance. No, not under there.
Where else can it be? I once again scanned my surroundings. Sink, Refrigerator, Shrine, Bed, Safe, Tab-
Safe! I slid right down to the locked box. It was an alphanumeric combination lock.
.
.
YES!
.
.
I typed in Indy and unlocked the chest. Too easy. I then peered inside.
To the corner was a couple of brightly colored magazines and a key! There it is! I snatched it from the interior and plugged it into the front door. It unlocked with a satisfying click. Who knew escape rooms were this easy? All I have to do now is walk outside go home back to Aniki!
.
.
.
.
I searched around for any sign of Portland. Nowhere to be seen. She's not going to be back for a while, right?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I walked back to the safe and took out one of the sketchy magazines.
The hottest cruisers of the Eagle Union.
I pumped my hand in the air as I tucked the magazine under my shirt. I suppose it's going to be awkward with a broken hand, but I can make do.
I went and took another glance outside.
.
.
.
Nothing. I walked back to the bed and pulled down my pants.
.
Aniki Aniki Aniki… where are you? I flipped through the book. There has got to be a photo or two of her.
Quincy, Phoenix, Memphis, Columbia..
.
I gagged as my other older sister posed indecently in front of the camera.
Oh God I did not need to see that.
.
.
Bremington, Baltimore, Salt Lake, Mont-
.
.
.
.
.
.
I'm in this book? Wha- I I... (3)
Okay. I close the now dangerous book. How do I avoid seeing people I know. Think.
.
.
.
.
Directory! There's a directory. Okay, let's avoid any more instances like this.
I screened through the list of names. Where is Aniki? I read out the list of names until…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Aniki! Page 124-157. I exhaled. That was fast. There was also far more pages of her than most ships. Not that I'm complaining though. I flipped through the book as I counted the pages. 84, 97, 106, 119, 165, Whoops missed it.
I began to flip the pages back.
.
.
.
164, 162, 160, 158, 122, What? I flipped the ... this paper went from 122 to 158! I flipped the page over. Yeah! Page 123 here 158 there! That's fishy. Out of the center of the page fell a handwritten note.
.
.
.
.
Indy is much better material. Pages 43 - 46.
.
.
.
.
I took the book and threw it against the wall.
.
.
.
.
What am I doing with my life? Jerking off in somebody else's house? I pressed my fingers into my forehead. Montpelier, you're better than this. You've stayed here too long. Let's just go home.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I walked to the door with a prevalent itching in my inner thigh.
.
.
.
.
Okay, just this once. I grabbed the book from the floor and flipped to a random page. I'll do it quick and then leave.
.
.
.
I'm not fapping to my non-Aniki sister. I reflipped to another page.
And not to my teacher. I reflipped to another page.
And not to a dead person. I reflipped to another page.
And not to a historical figure.
.
.
.
.
.
I'm not that picky, right? Next one, I'll settle for.
I flipped to a new page. Okay, that's definitely a destroyer. Not her.
.
.
.
Look, I have generally reasonable standards. Most ships would also refuse to jerk off, given these choices. I mean, I can accept lots of ships as material, right? Fine, I'll do the next one.
.
.
I glanced at the page. San Francisco.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I winced before trying to start.
Umm~ San Francisco, not ther- Yeah no way in hell.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I closed the book; my groin flared up in protest. FINE. This is my last exception. I am not picky with my choices. I get one more reset, that's it. Then I'll clean up and leave.
.
.
This is only to get rid of this itch, okay?
Please be a good ship, Please be a good ship, Please be a good ship
.
.
.
.
.
.
I opened the book.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
In front of me was a silver haired siscon.
.
.
.
Portland's POV:
"I am so sorry I'm late!" I ran into the room, dropping the purse on the floor before switching on the lights. "I got a bit distracted at the printer with Indy pics. She's just so cute! Did you need anything while I was gone, Montpelier?"
"I don't want to talk about it." The cruiser muttered, curled up in a blanket on the side of the bed.
.
.
.
"Did someth-"
"I don't want to talk about it."
Footnotes:
(1): She's actually right! Saratoga's fudged displacement would place her on par with the Alaska class super cruisers. Technically, Intrepid also could reach 27000 tones if she took off her entire load and stripped.
.
.
.
You can bonk me to horny jail now.
(2): It's far late for Montpelier now. She's already infected.
(3): Gridley can get some magical shots, just saying.
How am I already this honry? It's not even NNN!
Hoo boy.
Looks like the Tournament Arc is getting pushed back once again because I can not keep focus on plot. Welp.
Anyways, see you next week!