Anchovy Peaches XL - What the Hell Does WTH Mean?
Anchovy Peaches XL - What the Hell Does WTH Mean?
"It was a feint," Crawford told the assembled officers in the conference room, the projected map behind him showing the close approach and fast egress by the Imp Swarm, "An attempt to determine if we could draw in other fleet units. As you all know when you volunteered, we can't expect relief until the enemy has already decisively engaged. We're bait, but we're also the hook to hold them here until they can be smashed."
There was the normal grousing, but Godzilla had heard such before, the tenor the complaint was presented in told you more about the complainer then the complaint. 'Keep whining and does the job' was a good rule for a competent person, nobody liked making their job harder even when if benefitted many others.
"With that aside," Crawford said, "Any questions?"
Godzilla followed the convention and stood, then waited to be recognized. "I think SS-192 proved her sea trial, at least the first test. She submerged and came up instantly, the only problem was the Imps."
SS-192 blushed while the rest of the room chuckled, and all the ship-girls applauded.
"That's not the end of it, but I think we need a few crew to monitor the next dive. And no Admiral, that's my request, it shouldn't be an order," Godzilla said, "Second, Corey is going to need to order some supplies, specifics unknown, because the next big test is me and summoning my `rigging`. I've seen enough sea battles to know that they could swamp your defenses and slay your command with just the Imp Swarm and the capital ships need never risk themselves. Quantity has a quality all its own, but it'll all just be noise and light to my rigging."
------------------------------
Sitting in a lotus position, Godzilla repeated the mantra he'd picked up on the Internet.
"Waltzing Godzilla!
Waltzing Godzilla!
Won't you come a-waltzing, Godzilla, with me?
When you come into town,
You kill everything for miles around!
Won't you come a-waltzing, Godzilla, with me?"
"I don't think that's what's meant as a mantra," SS-192 said with her hands covering her face.
"I'm not using 'gyaoon', or getting sued by Blue Oyster Cult, so live with it," Godzilla said and returned to his `meditations` and mantra.
"We are NOT inviting him to karaoke night," Corey said quietly.
"His voice is actually pretty good," Wilcox added.
"That's the point," Corey said, "He'd win everything hands down. SS-192 sounds like she's getting barnacles scraped off her hull, you can't carry a tune until you're too drunk to remember the words, and me, if I get one more comment on 'Chipmunk cover' I'm gonna cover someone with chipmunk -"
"Corey!" SS-192 shouted, "I think we'd better move, not you Godzilla, you're doing great."
"RUN AWAY!" Wilcox said.
"GYAOOOOOOON!" thundered over the base. But the apparition vanished as soon as Godzilla tried to stand.
"Crap!" Godzilla shouted the one word that was a malediction in every language he'd ever heard of.
"Relax," Corey said, "As Werner VonBraun said, 'We have the launch, now we work on the range.'"
"Wasn't that when some rocket lifted about ten feet off the pad and then exploded?" Wilcox asked.
"Details," Corey said, waved her hand and grinned, "Besides, I already have an immediate solution."
------------------------------
"You don't look so tough," came from behind Gordon and Joshamee as they walked between meetings.
Behind them stood a cruiser with an eyepatch, a sheathed sword and a figurative 'Kick Me' sign radiating off her. She had a similar but unadorned cruiser a few steps behind her.
"See that, I told you it would work," Gordon said, "I mean when you can punch clear through an Abyssal's belt armor with your fist, tear them apart with terrifyingly hard-hitting gunfire from miles away, and have a reputation that you rip out and eat their boilers and turbines; trying to interact with friendly ship-girls can get dicey."
"Don't forget about the Atago's Adventures, how many cute, little destroyers and cruisers just fall to their knees, whimper, pee themselves and beg you not to hurt them when they see you walking towards them? I wish I could look as delicate as you," Joshamee sighed and turned to the stunned cruiser, "Oh I just realized, you're Tenryuu, one of the Tsundere-class. She took a Type 14 in the stern and sank."
"Now Joshamee," Gordon scolded, "They're a lot more permissive about that kind of thing in Japan," Gordon said and considered, "Although trusting a Type 14 to not explode when used like that is asking for trouble. Oblique impacts don'tcha know."
"All the way to the obliques?" Joshamee leaned over and looked at Tenryuu's silhouette. "I think it did blow something off."
"Ouch, my sympathies," Gordon said to the fiercely blushing cruiser.
"You think I'd - with a live torpedo?!" Tenryuu demanded.
"Live?" Gordon said, "Of course not, completely ridiculous idea, beyond the pale even." Joshamee nodded. "But a Type 14," Gordon said and shrugged, "Russian roulette-style, you get your kink on however you see fit. I know how empty the nights can get, and you do have a reputation as a risk-taker."
Tatsuta collapsed laughing at her sister-ship's going from red to white and back again.
"Nice girl, very good with destroyers," Gordon said as he and Joshamee walked away.
------------------------------
"Are you really Godzilla?" came the voice from behind him. The adolescent had been moving ahead of him, or swinging behind. Until now, content to watch.
He knew it was a mammalian trait to wait for advantage before charging, so he'd moved to a place the challenge would not be observed. The tone of voice reminded him too much of Rodan to simply let it drop. The scaly feather brain never realized he was being tolerated by himself and Moth-tan, either could take him out any time they liked, they just decided not to.
"No, but I do play him on TV," he said and turned to face the eternal dilemma of all parents, the teenager who'd begun smelling him or herself and was too hormone-addled to understand years of experience bred caution and wisdom. He'd faced this problem a number of times before, both offspring, and younger challengers. This one had all the signs of younger challenger.
"Ha, fucking ha, you don't look so tough," said the near child in the arm-baring covering with the horizontal rips in the leg coverings.
He was really glad that none of the uniforms were escorting him right now. It meant he could deal with this problem quickly and efficiently. He was puzzled by the scent, so he couldn't place the challenger's heritage. "Excellent, I've been working on that," he said happily, then leaned forward, "But I think you want more concrete proof." He tapped his chin. "Your best, no harm no foul."
The adolescent grinned, then showed a hint of wisdom as he glanced around. No observers, Godzilla had selected the challenge ground precisely for that purpose. Then the child gave a poor windup, and swung with all his weedy might.
------------------------------
Major Callahan hated being called about his son. Usually Carlos had been intercepted by the SPs or Marines before anything truly serious happened. He'd behaved on Okinawa, but he'd been under the eyes of many. But today the vague fear had become a nightmare, the call had come from the hospital, and it had come from Godzilla.
Major Callahan stormed through the doors of the little hospital ready to demand his son, when a hand grabbed the front of his uniform and lifted him off the ground. Callahan was not small, and unleashed a half-dozen counters to no effect as Godzilla placidly smiled at him.
"Nurse, I just need to talk to the Major," Godzilla called, "We'll be right back." He carried the Major, one-handed, to an unused office and closed the door. Without the smile fading, he threw all of Callahan's 260 pounds plus gear across the office onto the couch on the far wall.
"Now that we've had our little dominance game, that I won," Godzilla said, taking on the demeanor of a senior officer dressing down a junior, "What in the frezik malotripan idiot nonsense tolerates you ignoring your child's needs?"
"He's -"
"He's an adolescent male who needs to be taught that he isn't an adult, that adults are a font of wisdom, and that he needs a drubbing every now and again to remind him that his father can't save him from everything," Godzilla growled at him. He hadn't deployed his rigging, but the man's presence somehow filled the room and overshadowed even Callahan's Oath to the Country and the Corps. "Now you've forced someone else to take a hand, or a chin in this regard. He's basically unhurt, although he broke three fingers bouncing them off me, and had to deal with the `indignity` of me hauling him over my shoulder to the hospital."
"Now I don't know what passes for parenting now, but whatever it is, you aren't doing it right," Godzilla told him, "And don't give me 'He's changed since his mom left.' I've buried more kids, grandkids and great-grandkids than you, some were mine, some were someone else's. Losing someone always hurts, but as a wise, old butterfly once told me, 'Building walls because rebuilding a bridge hurts too much doesn't solve anyone's problems.'"
"Great, I'm getting parenting advise from a giant lizard," Callahan said as he started standing up, then a raised eyebrow from Godzilla told him to sit back down. "What am I supposed to do, he won't listen to me, and he's got most of the Marines convinced I'll come down on them if they touch him."
"Like I said, I don't start fights, I just win them. A little hard work from someone who doesn't give a crap about who his dad is might be the ticket," Godzilla said as he straightened up and stood back from the Marine, "I need to check out the island, and his feet haven't been affected."
"Sounds like you've got yourself a pack mule," Callahan said. He stood and offered his hand. Godzilla shook it and nodded. The huge man's expression softened.
"Let's go see your son," Godzilla said.
------------------------------
Gordon was walking as if he was preparing to drive his head through a wall, and just needed the wall to give him an excuse. "Hello, Yamato-san," he said as the battleship approached from behind.
"I don't wish to disturb you," Yamato said.
"You're troubled, go ahead and disturb me," Gordon said.
"You are aware of the Hotel Yamato nickname I've acquired," Yamato said.
"Are you wondering how I dealt with fulfilling that, or are you wondering why we didn't assign you similar duties?" Gordon asked. Turning and giving a close-lipped smile.
"Yes, both at the same time," Yamato said, "It seems that I resent the sobriquet, but know I could have fulfilled the function for my people."
He paused and turned to stare at the clouds above them. "First, I wasn't supposed to be, I was supposed to be an extension to the hospital," Gordon said, "The refugees needed someplace safe and strong, and there I was, and Joshamee, near their wounded loved ones. So I welcomed them aboard and put them to work. Helping in the hospital for the adults, sweeping, polishing and laundry for the younger ones. And other duties for those in-between. Second, by the time you arrived we were setting up camps and emergency shelters, you working construction provided more housing than you sitting as a hotel would have. It's all about what's needed when."
"Thank you," Yamato said and grinned, "So how are you finding Yokosuka?"
He gave her a mirthless smile, exposing his black teeth. "Some good, some bad, some nearly intolerable."
------------------------------
The ONI agent looked like he wanted to shove his head through a wall. An amalgamate of alien concepts mixed with Godzilla's somewhat spotty vocabulary and the jargon of mystic concepts that he was trying to translate literally had the agent and all the technical people awash in a sea of confusion.
"How can it be a utopia?" the nuke tech on the team asked.
"Utopia means 'no where place', the place by any concrete test does not exist, but it's like Middle Earth or Equestria, there is a shared belief that molds it into a form that is mostly similar for all the inhabitants," Godzilla explained.
"So your boss can send you there, but you can't get there now?" the agent asked, again fidgeting with his collar.
"That is one definition of a god," Godzilla said, and cocked his head, "Not psychotic."
"That's what you think," the navigation officer added, not sure why she was part of the team.
"No, one who conveys the souls of the dead to their resting place, like Hermes or the Grim Reaper," Godzilla said.
"Psychopomp," Wilcox said, and shrugged, "I like mythology channels on YouTube, sue me."
"Yes, I functioned as a reverse psychopomp, bringing the dead back to the land of the living," Godzilla said.
"How come we can't summon more modern ships, yet you showed up with Albacore?" the nuke tech asked.
"You send a message 'to whom it may concern', I went and got," Godzilla said, "How they are able to manifest, Corey said it best, her Admiral loved her, she made massive changes to ship building on par with Dreadnought, she had the spiritual `weight` to exist here, but not to pass the barrier. Olympia wasn't being called, as far as she knew. That's why I am a similar metamorph, people have a vague idea of who I am and what I can do, but even my powers here aren't what I've come to expect. I, this human form, does a lot of what I think Godzilla should do, but my rigging, is dependant on the beliefs of others. Just be glad I tried the RocketZilla on the far side of the island and the rigging faded before it impacted the ground."
Wilcox giggled at that. Carlos and Angie had come up with the idea after viewing Godzilla Vs. The Smog Monster, and had been stunned he was willing to try it on the first of Godzilla's exploratory trips around the island. Carlos had even provided a `mixtape` of the music from that episode as mantra fodder.
And it had worked, sort of.
"How does this differ from the collective unconscious?" the navigation officer asked.
"This is a real place, the other was thought up by a pack of charlatans sniffing their own farts," Godzilla said, "Like Lemuria, until they discovered plate tectonics answered all the questions. The collective unconscious and the whatever record is like something out of Flatland where you're trying to explain four dimensional space to a two-dimensional being, you're going to get it wrong without a shared framework. The Force and The Principia Discordia are closer but that's a three dimensional being trying to understand four dimensional space. The first thing is, it's entirely personal, you'll interact with it according to your experiences and your experiences dictate the reality to you. Spiritual Weight, how many people agree with your interpretation is not a - not all lumped together and mixed."
"Homogeneous," Wilcox said, used to the man's odd vocabulary lapses.
"Yes, thank you," Godzilla said, "It's like layers. A pearl may look like a homogeneous mass, but it's actually layers. Each person who agrees and strengthens the unanimity of the vision, those who disagree detract and weaken the object. That's why AGSS Albacore had to be extracted by me. She can survive on her own, but too few people know of her to bridge the gap."
"So we could summon well-known ships, and as more people know, we widen our pool of candidates?" the nuke tech asked.
Godzilla sighed. "Sort of. Like I said, you don't even have the words to explain the situation, but fundamentally it comes down to belief, knowledge and emotional attachment."
"Love?" the ONI agent asked.
"No, that one I got right, emotional attachment. The English hatred of Bismarck and Tirpitz had as much to do with the ease of their summoning as the German love of them," Godzilla said, "Apathy and indifference are the major weapon that makes a summoned an Abyssal. And why Gordon's open-hand approach is so effective. Even if a ship is hated, people and other ships still care. The Abyssals are empty, and the rage of having an existence, which goes unacknowledged, fuels the Abyss that spawns them. That's part of what drives them. They don't understand it themselves, but they need someone to love them, or someone to hate them."
"How'd you figure that out?" the ONI agent asked, "Our people haven't a clue about that."
Godzilla looked at Wilcox. "Angie and Carlos came up with a `mixtape` of Godzilla Mothra King Ghidorah Giant Monsters Attack." He surveyed the Naval Intelligence team. "Believe me, you never want me in that state again, ever."
"It was a feint," Crawford told the assembled officers in the conference room, the projected map behind him showing the close approach and fast egress by the Imp Swarm, "An attempt to determine if we could draw in other fleet units. As you all know when you volunteered, we can't expect relief until the enemy has already decisively engaged. We're bait, but we're also the hook to hold them here until they can be smashed."
There was the normal grousing, but Godzilla had heard such before, the tenor the complaint was presented in told you more about the complainer then the complaint. 'Keep whining and does the job' was a good rule for a competent person, nobody liked making their job harder even when if benefitted many others.
"With that aside," Crawford said, "Any questions?"
Godzilla followed the convention and stood, then waited to be recognized. "I think SS-192 proved her sea trial, at least the first test. She submerged and came up instantly, the only problem was the Imps."
SS-192 blushed while the rest of the room chuckled, and all the ship-girls applauded.
"That's not the end of it, but I think we need a few crew to monitor the next dive. And no Admiral, that's my request, it shouldn't be an order," Godzilla said, "Second, Corey is going to need to order some supplies, specifics unknown, because the next big test is me and summoning my `rigging`. I've seen enough sea battles to know that they could swamp your defenses and slay your command with just the Imp Swarm and the capital ships need never risk themselves. Quantity has a quality all its own, but it'll all just be noise and light to my rigging."
------------------------------
Sitting in a lotus position, Godzilla repeated the mantra he'd picked up on the Internet.
"Waltzing Godzilla!
Waltzing Godzilla!
Won't you come a-waltzing, Godzilla, with me?
When you come into town,
You kill everything for miles around!
Won't you come a-waltzing, Godzilla, with me?"
"I don't think that's what's meant as a mantra," SS-192 said with her hands covering her face.
"I'm not using 'gyaoon', or getting sued by Blue Oyster Cult, so live with it," Godzilla said and returned to his `meditations` and mantra.
"We are NOT inviting him to karaoke night," Corey said quietly.
"His voice is actually pretty good," Wilcox added.
"That's the point," Corey said, "He'd win everything hands down. SS-192 sounds like she's getting barnacles scraped off her hull, you can't carry a tune until you're too drunk to remember the words, and me, if I get one more comment on 'Chipmunk cover' I'm gonna cover someone with chipmunk -"
"Corey!" SS-192 shouted, "I think we'd better move, not you Godzilla, you're doing great."
"RUN AWAY!" Wilcox said.
"GYAOOOOOOON!" thundered over the base. But the apparition vanished as soon as Godzilla tried to stand.
"Crap!" Godzilla shouted the one word that was a malediction in every language he'd ever heard of.
"Relax," Corey said, "As Werner VonBraun said, 'We have the launch, now we work on the range.'"
"Wasn't that when some rocket lifted about ten feet off the pad and then exploded?" Wilcox asked.
"Details," Corey said, waved her hand and grinned, "Besides, I already have an immediate solution."
------------------------------
"You don't look so tough," came from behind Gordon and Joshamee as they walked between meetings.
Behind them stood a cruiser with an eyepatch, a sheathed sword and a figurative 'Kick Me' sign radiating off her. She had a similar but unadorned cruiser a few steps behind her.
"See that, I told you it would work," Gordon said, "I mean when you can punch clear through an Abyssal's belt armor with your fist, tear them apart with terrifyingly hard-hitting gunfire from miles away, and have a reputation that you rip out and eat their boilers and turbines; trying to interact with friendly ship-girls can get dicey."
"Don't forget about the Atago's Adventures, how many cute, little destroyers and cruisers just fall to their knees, whimper, pee themselves and beg you not to hurt them when they see you walking towards them? I wish I could look as delicate as you," Joshamee sighed and turned to the stunned cruiser, "Oh I just realized, you're Tenryuu, one of the Tsundere-class. She took a Type 14 in the stern and sank."
"Now Joshamee," Gordon scolded, "They're a lot more permissive about that kind of thing in Japan," Gordon said and considered, "Although trusting a Type 14 to not explode when used like that is asking for trouble. Oblique impacts don'tcha know."
"All the way to the obliques?" Joshamee leaned over and looked at Tenryuu's silhouette. "I think it did blow something off."
"Ouch, my sympathies," Gordon said to the fiercely blushing cruiser.
"You think I'd - with a live torpedo?!" Tenryuu demanded.
"Live?" Gordon said, "Of course not, completely ridiculous idea, beyond the pale even." Joshamee nodded. "But a Type 14," Gordon said and shrugged, "Russian roulette-style, you get your kink on however you see fit. I know how empty the nights can get, and you do have a reputation as a risk-taker."
Tatsuta collapsed laughing at her sister-ship's going from red to white and back again.
"Nice girl, very good with destroyers," Gordon said as he and Joshamee walked away.
------------------------------
"Are you really Godzilla?" came the voice from behind him. The adolescent had been moving ahead of him, or swinging behind. Until now, content to watch.
He knew it was a mammalian trait to wait for advantage before charging, so he'd moved to a place the challenge would not be observed. The tone of voice reminded him too much of Rodan to simply let it drop. The scaly feather brain never realized he was being tolerated by himself and Moth-tan, either could take him out any time they liked, they just decided not to.
"No, but I do play him on TV," he said and turned to face the eternal dilemma of all parents, the teenager who'd begun smelling him or herself and was too hormone-addled to understand years of experience bred caution and wisdom. He'd faced this problem a number of times before, both offspring, and younger challengers. This one had all the signs of younger challenger.
"Ha, fucking ha, you don't look so tough," said the near child in the arm-baring covering with the horizontal rips in the leg coverings.
He was really glad that none of the uniforms were escorting him right now. It meant he could deal with this problem quickly and efficiently. He was puzzled by the scent, so he couldn't place the challenger's heritage. "Excellent, I've been working on that," he said happily, then leaned forward, "But I think you want more concrete proof." He tapped his chin. "Your best, no harm no foul."
The adolescent grinned, then showed a hint of wisdom as he glanced around. No observers, Godzilla had selected the challenge ground precisely for that purpose. Then the child gave a poor windup, and swung with all his weedy might.
------------------------------
Major Callahan hated being called about his son. Usually Carlos had been intercepted by the SPs or Marines before anything truly serious happened. He'd behaved on Okinawa, but he'd been under the eyes of many. But today the vague fear had become a nightmare, the call had come from the hospital, and it had come from Godzilla.
Major Callahan stormed through the doors of the little hospital ready to demand his son, when a hand grabbed the front of his uniform and lifted him off the ground. Callahan was not small, and unleashed a half-dozen counters to no effect as Godzilla placidly smiled at him.
"Nurse, I just need to talk to the Major," Godzilla called, "We'll be right back." He carried the Major, one-handed, to an unused office and closed the door. Without the smile fading, he threw all of Callahan's 260 pounds plus gear across the office onto the couch on the far wall.
"Now that we've had our little dominance game, that I won," Godzilla said, taking on the demeanor of a senior officer dressing down a junior, "What in the frezik malotripan idiot nonsense tolerates you ignoring your child's needs?"
"He's -"
"He's an adolescent male who needs to be taught that he isn't an adult, that adults are a font of wisdom, and that he needs a drubbing every now and again to remind him that his father can't save him from everything," Godzilla growled at him. He hadn't deployed his rigging, but the man's presence somehow filled the room and overshadowed even Callahan's Oath to the Country and the Corps. "Now you've forced someone else to take a hand, or a chin in this regard. He's basically unhurt, although he broke three fingers bouncing them off me, and had to deal with the `indignity` of me hauling him over my shoulder to the hospital."
"Now I don't know what passes for parenting now, but whatever it is, you aren't doing it right," Godzilla told him, "And don't give me 'He's changed since his mom left.' I've buried more kids, grandkids and great-grandkids than you, some were mine, some were someone else's. Losing someone always hurts, but as a wise, old butterfly once told me, 'Building walls because rebuilding a bridge hurts too much doesn't solve anyone's problems.'"
"Great, I'm getting parenting advise from a giant lizard," Callahan said as he started standing up, then a raised eyebrow from Godzilla told him to sit back down. "What am I supposed to do, he won't listen to me, and he's got most of the Marines convinced I'll come down on them if they touch him."
"Like I said, I don't start fights, I just win them. A little hard work from someone who doesn't give a crap about who his dad is might be the ticket," Godzilla said as he straightened up and stood back from the Marine, "I need to check out the island, and his feet haven't been affected."
"Sounds like you've got yourself a pack mule," Callahan said. He stood and offered his hand. Godzilla shook it and nodded. The huge man's expression softened.
"Let's go see your son," Godzilla said.
------------------------------
Gordon was walking as if he was preparing to drive his head through a wall, and just needed the wall to give him an excuse. "Hello, Yamato-san," he said as the battleship approached from behind.
"I don't wish to disturb you," Yamato said.
"You're troubled, go ahead and disturb me," Gordon said.
"You are aware of the Hotel Yamato nickname I've acquired," Yamato said.
"Are you wondering how I dealt with fulfilling that, or are you wondering why we didn't assign you similar duties?" Gordon asked. Turning and giving a close-lipped smile.
"Yes, both at the same time," Yamato said, "It seems that I resent the sobriquet, but know I could have fulfilled the function for my people."
He paused and turned to stare at the clouds above them. "First, I wasn't supposed to be, I was supposed to be an extension to the hospital," Gordon said, "The refugees needed someplace safe and strong, and there I was, and Joshamee, near their wounded loved ones. So I welcomed them aboard and put them to work. Helping in the hospital for the adults, sweeping, polishing and laundry for the younger ones. And other duties for those in-between. Second, by the time you arrived we were setting up camps and emergency shelters, you working construction provided more housing than you sitting as a hotel would have. It's all about what's needed when."
"Thank you," Yamato said and grinned, "So how are you finding Yokosuka?"
He gave her a mirthless smile, exposing his black teeth. "Some good, some bad, some nearly intolerable."
------------------------------
The ONI agent looked like he wanted to shove his head through a wall. An amalgamate of alien concepts mixed with Godzilla's somewhat spotty vocabulary and the jargon of mystic concepts that he was trying to translate literally had the agent and all the technical people awash in a sea of confusion.
"How can it be a utopia?" the nuke tech on the team asked.
"Utopia means 'no where place', the place by any concrete test does not exist, but it's like Middle Earth or Equestria, there is a shared belief that molds it into a form that is mostly similar for all the inhabitants," Godzilla explained.
"So your boss can send you there, but you can't get there now?" the agent asked, again fidgeting with his collar.
"That is one definition of a god," Godzilla said, and cocked his head, "Not psychotic."
"That's what you think," the navigation officer added, not sure why she was part of the team.
"No, one who conveys the souls of the dead to their resting place, like Hermes or the Grim Reaper," Godzilla said.
"Psychopomp," Wilcox said, and shrugged, "I like mythology channels on YouTube, sue me."
"Yes, I functioned as a reverse psychopomp, bringing the dead back to the land of the living," Godzilla said.
"How come we can't summon more modern ships, yet you showed up with Albacore?" the nuke tech asked.
"You send a message 'to whom it may concern', I went and got," Godzilla said, "How they are able to manifest, Corey said it best, her Admiral loved her, she made massive changes to ship building on par with Dreadnought, she had the spiritual `weight` to exist here, but not to pass the barrier. Olympia wasn't being called, as far as she knew. That's why I am a similar metamorph, people have a vague idea of who I am and what I can do, but even my powers here aren't what I've come to expect. I, this human form, does a lot of what I think Godzilla should do, but my rigging, is dependant on the beliefs of others. Just be glad I tried the RocketZilla on the far side of the island and the rigging faded before it impacted the ground."
Wilcox giggled at that. Carlos and Angie had come up with the idea after viewing Godzilla Vs. The Smog Monster, and had been stunned he was willing to try it on the first of Godzilla's exploratory trips around the island. Carlos had even provided a `mixtape` of the music from that episode as mantra fodder.
And it had worked, sort of.
"How does this differ from the collective unconscious?" the navigation officer asked.
"This is a real place, the other was thought up by a pack of charlatans sniffing their own farts," Godzilla said, "Like Lemuria, until they discovered plate tectonics answered all the questions. The collective unconscious and the whatever record is like something out of Flatland where you're trying to explain four dimensional space to a two-dimensional being, you're going to get it wrong without a shared framework. The Force and The Principia Discordia are closer but that's a three dimensional being trying to understand four dimensional space. The first thing is, it's entirely personal, you'll interact with it according to your experiences and your experiences dictate the reality to you. Spiritual Weight, how many people agree with your interpretation is not a - not all lumped together and mixed."
"Homogeneous," Wilcox said, used to the man's odd vocabulary lapses.
"Yes, thank you," Godzilla said, "It's like layers. A pearl may look like a homogeneous mass, but it's actually layers. Each person who agrees and strengthens the unanimity of the vision, those who disagree detract and weaken the object. That's why AGSS Albacore had to be extracted by me. She can survive on her own, but too few people know of her to bridge the gap."
"So we could summon well-known ships, and as more people know, we widen our pool of candidates?" the nuke tech asked.
Godzilla sighed. "Sort of. Like I said, you don't even have the words to explain the situation, but fundamentally it comes down to belief, knowledge and emotional attachment."
"Love?" the ONI agent asked.
"No, that one I got right, emotional attachment. The English hatred of Bismarck and Tirpitz had as much to do with the ease of their summoning as the German love of them," Godzilla said, "Apathy and indifference are the major weapon that makes a summoned an Abyssal. And why Gordon's open-hand approach is so effective. Even if a ship is hated, people and other ships still care. The Abyssals are empty, and the rage of having an existence, which goes unacknowledged, fuels the Abyss that spawns them. That's part of what drives them. They don't understand it themselves, but they need someone to love them, or someone to hate them."
"How'd you figure that out?" the ONI agent asked, "Our people haven't a clue about that."
Godzilla looked at Wilcox. "Angie and Carlos came up with a `mixtape` of Godzilla Mothra King Ghidorah Giant Monsters Attack." He surveyed the Naval Intelligence team. "Believe me, you never want me in that state again, ever."
Since I was planning to release one chapter a day this week, but some water had Sufficient Velocity I reeditted these chapters so they'll be larger than usual. Enjoy.
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