帰れる…のか…？

酔っぱらい２人を連れて帰る提督。

#Kantai Collection #Admiral (Kantai Collection)#Pola #Zara

Dipublikasikan Sep 9, 2026

もりりん（森林）

A medium shot on a narrow cobblestone street in an Italian town at night. Warm golden light spills from old street lamps along the stone walls of historic buildings with shuttered windows and hanging flower boxes. The street is quiet and empty except for the three figures. Pola, the girl with long wavy light ash brown hair flowing freely down past her shoulders without any hat, wears a disheveled and loosened black corset top over a crooked and slipping white long-sleeved bare-shoulder shirt that hangs off one shoulder, a wrinkled red skirt with white frills askew on her hips, white thighhighs, and grey boots with red and white striped toe caps. Her wrists are bound together in front of her with a thick rope, the same rope then continuing forward in a straight unbroken line directly into the hand of the man leading them. Because her hands are tied, she cannot hold anything at all. She leans her shoulder against Zara with a big silly drunken grin, cheeks flushed deep crimson, eyes heavily drooping and completely unfocused with spiral drunk patterns, mouth hanging slightly open in a dopey blissful expression, head lolling to the side, looking totally spaced out and loopy but genuinely happy and carefree. Beside her, Zara, the girl with long wavy golden blonde hair flowing freely down past her shoulders without any hat, gathered loosely in a half-up braid style with locks framing her face, wears a disheveled black corset top with its laces loose and sagging over a crooked white long-sleeved bare-shoulder shirt, a wrinkled red skirt with white frills and green ribbons tilted on her hips, a crooked red ascot half-undone, brown thighhighs, and grey long boots with red and white striped toe caps and green soles. Her wrists are also bound together in front of her with the same thick rope, the same rope then continuing forward in a straight unbroken line directly into the hand of the man leading them. Because her hands are tied, she cannot hold anything at all. She presses shoulder to shoulder with Pola, cheeks burning bright red, eyes heavily drooping and completely unfocused with spiral drunk patterns, mouth hanging slightly open in a dopey blissful grin, head lolling to the other side, looking totally spaced out and loopy, completely gone and blissfully happy. In front of them, leading the rope, is a tall man in a crisp white naval admiral uniform with gold buttons and epaulettes, his back turned to the viewer as he walks forward resolutely, his posture stiff with resigned exasperation, one hand clearly holding the single continuous rope that runs straight back to bind their wrists and tethers the two girls behind him, the rope visibly one connected line from his hand to their bound wrists. Warm amber glow from vintage street lamps, old stone buildings, soft painterly anime aesthetic

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