Prologue

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July 22nd, 1956 (2:00pm): 

The weather was horrible, like the day before. But seemed to slam the ship ever more as we had our missile platforms partially swallowed on our deck from both sides. Only for it to recede and be followed by another one. We didn't know why, nor how, but when that damn hurricane turned around into the Caribbean, it kept strength over the year. This caused a new, upscale number to come from it... A category 7 fucking hurricane. A Cat 7... Jesus... What could have caused the entire East Coast to shiver its spine on an accordion more than this one fucking storm? But we found out that day what it could truly mean for a Hurricane to be named Connie...

And it was USS Mississippi to take the unlucky splash.

But where could he have seen this coming? He's already in his 40s and the scrapping was just beggin to happen to him

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But where could he have seen this coming? He's already in his 40s and the scrapping was just beggin to happen to him...

As he questioned this mindset, the conning tower went dead silent. Only for the sound of waves around slamming the old battleship. as the receiver was picking up weird music that started getting sent through to only the tower. Some kind of new music? He didn't care. 

*Start at 1:09*

He cared more about their safety than some music. So, not thinking much about it, he turned it up and told the crew to relax and listen to it. They looked at him, confused... Before continuing to do whatever they were doing... 

And so, as Mississippi thought about this and around him and his crew aboard him for his final move. Planned to be back in Norfolk to be scrapped. He thought about the past...

Context & his mind:

The spirits around the world could be seen and heard from their ships. All the way from Norfolk to Scapa Flow and to the port of Yokosuka. They embodied their ships in their own ways, but some were different from others as battleships were, most of the time, taller, and mostly girls. All types of Cruisers and aircraft carriers followed were all girls. Not a single damn guy while the destroyers were almost all guys due to their names. Mostly being from servicemen who did their duty to the best, and were honored in such way...

That was to not stay the status quo after World War 2.

For only the fortunate and the future of our naval presides in our main ports. Those to be needed later stayed in the mothball to ether suffer the fate of many, see the future as a museum ship... Or to be destroyed by cannons or mushroom cloud-scaled bombs. 

Once the ship is gone. The Spirit becomes no more. Disappeared into death to be forgiven, forgotten, or remain under the sea as just dust, ash... or in Arizona's case... Stuck in harbor with whoever stayed there during their time in port. I think Missouri promised to keep with her as company after he promised me. But I don't know how he's going to survive the budget cutting...

Back to reality

... Only to be brought back to his senses as a rogue wave the size of his ship slams into the bow, Covering the deck, ripping off the missile platforms. Followed by the bridge, and anything behind the bridge to be submerged into water. Only for the ship to come back out of it. 

He goes back into his notes to describe this recent trifle...

Just for him to be knocked into the adjacent wall within the concrete conning tower and onto the floor from a rogue wave bashing the Port side of the ship, Swallowing the ship again in its midst. Before slowly receding.

looking back up, he saw the crew scrambling to figure out how to handle the situation. Ignoring him completely...

Mississippi started feeling the back of his head that hit the wall. For his hand to be met with blood slowly coming out of the back right of his head. Blood... Something he had remembered deeply from his past... a decade and a half ago... but something doesn't feel right...  

Feeling loose... Feeling light headed... Consciousness wasn't questionable. It was about to be fuckin-

...Gone...


Bio's is after. 

No shocker...

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