A/N: Hey yall. It's been a while, I know, and I know this ain't exactly what yall were hoping for. I've been a bit down on my luck as of late, job searching and college stress are a nasty combo, especially with shoddy professors and a bit of depression and writer's block tossed into the mix. I'll make do, though, and I'm working on the big stories in the meantime. While the wait continues though, I thought I'd toss out some scraps I had lying around. Ain't my best, ain't my worst, and a lot of these are just drafts of scrapped scenes from my stories. Anyways, I'll update this periodically, and if you find something you like, just shout it out!
It was November 21st, 2023, and Ana Kuini wanted a drink. It'd been a little under a month since Crimson One had thrown them back in time with an explosion, and boy had it been weird. Honestly, though? It was something she could roll with, especially considering how wonderful and crazy some of the Kansen here in New York were. She had been informed by Enterprise that there was an old Pub just off the base that was popular with the older girls, and that was where she found herself now. Well, to be specific, she was just outside, listening to poorly coordinated singing leaking through the walls, debating whether she wanted to expose herself to whatever insanity lay inside. A Royal Navy Cruiser Squadron had arrived the day previously, and Enterprise had insisted that this was where they'd be today, and had come along without further explanation.
The Union Carrier hesitated but for a moment and stepped forward, pushing the door inwards and leading Ana inside, only to find a dozen drunk Marines and twice their number in Kansen inside, all roaring along to what sounded like a Sea Shanty. "God damn them all! I was told we'd sail seas for American gold! We'd fire no gun, shed no tear, but I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier, The last of Barrett's Privateers!"
In the centre of it all, leaning against the bar with a bottle raised in one hand, was none other than Belfast herself. The normally perfectly poised Cruiser looking like she was several glasses of brandy deeper than she should've been. As Ana gaped at the sight, Enterprise merely sighed and leaned in close so she could be heard over the noise. "This happens every year today, it's the only time she ever lets loose and allows herself to be anything other than perfect...And she thought I had problems..."
"Now the Antelope she was a sickening sight! How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now! She'd a list to the port and her sails in rags, and the cook in the scuppers with the shakes and the jags, God damn them all!" Ana frowned, taking in the faces around her, only recognizing about half of the girls in there. "What happened?
"I was told we'd sail the seas for American gold! We'd fire no gun, shed no tear, But I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier, The last of Barrett's Privateers!" Enterprise sighed, "It's probably about 81 years ago now, back when we were all just Steel Hulls, she struck a mine during a training exercise. It snapped her keel and wrecked her internally, killed one of her crew and injured more than forty more. What happened to us crosses over when we're summoned, we always remember, and she took it as a sign she needed to be better, so that she'd never make the same mistake again.
Evidently though, while they'd been talking at the door, Belfast(or someone else close to her) had noticed them, and the Cruiser in question had stumbled over to the door and practically draped herself over Enterprise's taller frame. "Enterprise! You finally came 'round! Come on and have a drink, tonight we remember de dead, and celebrate deir souls!" The infamous mercenary pilot blinked owlishly at the accent, one she'd never heard before, and certainly not one she'd have put to the prim and proper maid she'd met briefly the previous day. "Ah, Miss Ana'era, you're 'ere too!? Come on then! Drinks are on me t'night!"
Written 12/22/21: So this idea popped into my head while I was listening to The Real Mackenzies song Barrett's Privateers, and I couldn't get it out of my head. The idea that there's one night a year where Belfast lets loose and her Irish side comes out was too entertaining to not write.