Oh, is Maxine going where she thinks she's going? Oh good.

"It runs on communication. Lots and lots of communication. We're all dating each other, and we make a point to talk with each other before bringing anyone in seriously. Flings, brief romances, and friends with benefits are all fine to enjoy casually, however."

Oh gosh. 

"Communication, huh..."

She considers for a long moment..

"Okay, then, um. I should tell you that... one of the things I wished for was... a chance to meet someone, in the new world. I was very lonely in my old life. And... I can't help but notice the looks you've been giving me. I don't know anything about dating so I have no clue what I want to do about any of that, though." She looks over at tenta-chan. "Tenta-chan is all 'go get her, you can do it!' but I don't even really know what I want, yet, except to not be alone."

Missouri smiles tenderly and nods. "I understand, Maxine. I'll say it plainly, then: I think you're beautiful, and I think I'd like to get to know you better. I think you'll have a hard time winding up alone, here at Everett, Maxine. May I kiss you?"

Oh wow.

She ducks her head. "Um. Only if you really want to?"

"I really do," and she glides over, cups Maxine's cheek, and presses a sweet kiss to her lips, her naked breasts squishing gently against the blonde's.

Maxine freezes stiff as a board, not even really managing to kiss back. Her whole brain is occupied with OH MY GOD HER NAKED BOOBS ARE TOUCHING MINE.

She moves as docilely as a kitten when Missouri touches her cheek, and her lips half-part, but it's blatantly obvious that she hasn't got a single braincell for processing right now.

And then Missouri pulls away, smiling gently, still cupping Maxine's cheek. "Oh, you sweet thing. You've had a hard, affection-starved time of it, haven't you?" She strokes her cheek softly with her thumb. "We'll have to work on getting you used to affectionate touches."

In Maxine's head, something goes clunk. 

"Yeah," she says. "We really really will." 

And she leans in and kisses Missouri back. 

There's still, distantly in a corner of her mind, something going "ohmygodohmygodohmygod" but it's less important than getting this right. It's like her entire brain has suddenly focused on the fact that Missouri wants her. 

She could genuinely have sex. No fucking way she messes this up. 

Missouri leans in and meets the kiss, deepening it slightly, and cups Maxine's waist with her other hand. A happy sigh spills from her lips.

Maxine stiffens a little again at the gentle touch, but then shifts in and kisses back. 

Her skin sings beneath Missouri's hands. She feels... very pliable.

While those two are distracted with each other, Lexington shifts Morrison around in her lap and starts making out as well.

Fletcher sighs and smiles and nestles in against Nola, enjoying a quiet snuggle.

And Missouri just keeps kissing Maxine, savoring the moment, until...

Knock knock.

Missouri looks up and over at the door. None of the other shipgirls bother to move, though Morrison and Lexington pause the makeout.

"I suspect that's a Yeoman with your ID form," Missouri says.

Maxine is all at sea right now. There's been SO much kissing and Missouri is practically sitting in her lap and the water feels SO good.

"I - I guess I - I'll go get that," she stammers. So much for trying to be smooth. 

She hauls herself back up out of the water and heads for the door.

At the door is a yeoman with a clipboard, a nametag on her uniform identifying her as Yeoman Michaels. Michaels holds the clipboard out to Maxine. "For you, Miss. If you get this filled out, we can have some of your identification today, and the rest tomorrow," she says, a faint blush dusting her cheeks as she salutes Maxine and locks eyes with her.

The clipboard contains a bunch of very basic name/height/weight questions. They're clearly used to shipgirls not having normal human backstories.

Something tells her to use the rank, not the name. "Thank you, Yeoman." She salutes in return and accepts the clipboard. "Do you have a pencil to go with this?"

She points at one tucked into the clipboard.

"I don't have a formal rank yet, so for the moment I'll just settle for saying thank you. I'll have this filled out for you as soon as I can."

She smiles slightly and takes the clipboard back inside, where she sits on one of the benches by the lockers and starts going through the questions. 

She... doesn't actually know her current height and weight, come to think of it. She doesn't have a last name she's willing to use either though.

It feels right to thank notebook-chan, so she can be Maxine Quill. And she has Size Difference, so she'd better put down "variable" for height. Gender is definitely F. She can find a scale somewhere for weight. Hair color gets a "variable, currently blonde" and eye color gets a solid "blue." 

The questions about her ship class can get filled in with her best guess, which is that she might eventually become an Iowa-class with time to develop, and her current status of radar return and tonnage as reported by her own sensors. She notes that she is not yet able to summon rigging, but seems to be armored, sea-worthy, and radio and radar capable. 

In the free answer space she mentions that she has a suite of various magical effects generally easing her life, which makes her body unusually variable among other things. Details available on request; she doesn't want to accidentally share something that could be an important military secret. 

She looks back at the girls in the pool. "Um, do any of you know where I can find a scale?"

Maya pulls one out of her hold and sets it on the decking. "Be sure to concentrate on being more girl than ship when you do that. I've got a spare if you break it, though."

"Alright." 

She focuses as best she can, trying to fold away her ship heritage a little - after all, weighing several thousand tons is definitely a disadvantage in everyday life - and steps on the scale.

It flicks to the right and stops at one hundred and eighty-two pounds. She's lost weight.

She steps off the scale and puts it down on the form. "Thank you, Missouri."

Missouri tucks it away with a smile. "Gladly, dear."

She finishes filling out the form, then bites her lip.

A quick-change back into her civilian clothes later, she pokes her head out the door to see if the yeoman is still there.

Yeoman Michaels is still there, yes. She's standing at ease, waiting patiently.