[h2][color=f49ac2][b]CORINNE SHOURICHI'S CATCH OF THE DAY! DEFENDING THE SHORES OF MAINE FROM DEEP CHOWDER AND ROLLING UP THE COMPETITION![/b][/color][/h2]

When Corinne Shourichi was young, she'd had a dream of Maine-1's violent death over the cerulean skies of his homeland.

...

Okay, that was a lie. But it certainly was certainly specific enough to sound prophetic, and were she to prevent that violent death in the next half hour, she would be able to bludgeon the team into accepting her as their Oracle from this day forth. In this technologically-advanced day and age, the traditional legitimacy of monarchs like those who had once ruled this very country was dead. The models for totalitarian legitimacy over the past couple centuries had been rooted deep in charisma and mysticism, born through the personality cults of vivid, idealistic, glorious visionaries who just so happened to be the military leaders who remained loyal to the people during military coups. As long as she remained loyal to her team and demanded their loyalty in return, their hero worship of Corinne would follow them to the afterlife!

Oooh, that was the good stuff. She would be the most benevolent military leader the world had ever seen, and she would harness the power of self-fulfilling prophecy as evidence of the divine lineage she was always certain she'd sprung from. If Maine-1's survival was to be the cornerstone of her team's unyielding adoration for her, then Corinne Shourichi would ensure that he would stand like the Rock of Cashel for centuries.

All she had to do was have a little faith in her uptight deputy - and trust Hazel was good for something besides playing in sims and lustful glances.

[color=f49ac2]"Don't finish without me, [i]hikikomori![/i]"[/color] Corinne exclaimed. [color=f49ac2]"Big sister will be back in a minute! Maine-1--"[/color]

The R-Blade, painted the distinctly beautiful shade of red that dripped from Aphrodite's wrist, had turned towards the haphazard lions. The majority of the homing missiles, designed to drive the Irish team into the clutches of the eastern team of Lions, were promptly eliminated by a spray of the Shourichi Special's Vulcans. 

[color=f49ac2]"--don't die. Your accent is a gift from an almighty God."[/color]

Inside the R-Blade's cockpit, a bright blue eye winked behind the blued steel of a butterfly mask.

Now, how in the hell was she supposed to keep a deaf-mute girl alive long enough for her to smash up the Landlions?

Anju was already focused on one Guarlion, and seemed to have a good shot lined up on the unit's Tesla Drive. She was loathe to whip out her beam rifle so early in the fight, too; she never knew when she'd need to save it for something bigger and cooler, which was Corinne's philosophy for all things in life except for her money and her virginity.

But she had a railgun.

That could be cool.

...

[color=f49ac2][i]That could be [b]pretty[/b] cool.[/i][/color]

So she fired the railgun downwards and facing from the east, through the side of the Lions' formation as they zipped over the water.

It was pretty cool.