Well, your in luck then. The Author has already stated that it is highly unlikely for there to be one, partly due to the general rarity of dragons, and partly because the entirety of the Illithid population in Earth Bet's reality chain were wiped out by the entities.
-
Going forward, links to content from Twitter (now X) will no longer be embedded. Pre-existing links should not be affected.
Scaling Up
- Thread starter Kryslin
- Start date
FaerieKnight79
Verified Pixie
- Location
- The Internet
I'd never heard of elder brain dragons before. And I chose to believe they aren't a thing.
Yeah I try to forget they're a thing myself. They're a fantastic monster but a terrifying one. Who need to be purged with nuclear fire at every opportunity.
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
I found the book to be a very interesting source of information, indeed.
I don't necessarily agree entirely with what's been written, but there are some good ideas.
For instance, some details of the creation myth given directly contradicts what's been established in the story; Sardior, in particular, is around someplace, and very much alive.
Fizban's commentary is a hoot, though.
I'll probably stick to my weird mix of house rules and notes, and slowly work extra ideas in.
I don't necessarily agree entirely with what's been written, but there are some good ideas.
For instance, some details of the creation myth given directly contradicts what's been established in the story; Sardior, in particular, is around someplace, and very much alive.
Fizban's commentary is a hoot, though.
I'll probably stick to my weird mix of house rules and notes, and slowly work extra ideas in.
it would be immediately destroyed by one of the draconic deities who being gods wouldn't be affected by its song and would not want to risk it killing a dragon
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
A reminder to my readers / fans / inmates of the asylum:
I, the Author, will resume posting on 13 November, 20 November, before taking a break for Thanksgiving, then posting on 04 December, 11 December, and 18 December, before taking a break for Christmas and New Year's. Regular posting would then resume on 08 January 2022.
Also, as a reminder: If you hadn't already figured out that this is in an Alternate Universe for the Worm setting, Bringing will drive this point home with all the force of a nuclear shaped charge. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Now, I need to get back to mangling D&D 5e rules with D&D 3.5e ideas...
I, the Author, will resume posting on 13 November, 20 November, before taking a break for Thanksgiving, then posting on 04 December, 11 December, and 18 December, before taking a break for Christmas and New Year's. Regular posting would then resume on 08 January 2022.
Also, as a reminder: If you hadn't already figured out that this is in an Alternate Universe for the Worm setting, Bringing will drive this point home with all the force of a nuclear shaped charge. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Now, I need to get back to mangling D&D 5e rules with D&D 3.5e ideas...
- Pronouns
- He/Him/Ey/Em
It vaguely reminds me of something that happened in an Ah! Megami-Sama!/Oh My Goddess fanfic, wherein the the main character underwent something described as "taking a stack of player characters, and seeing if they'd form a player under heat and pressure". This happened because his wish had made him a brother of the Norns, and he needed to become a Proper God. Until you pointed it out, I hadn't put it together, but now I wonder if the Dragon Gods are looking for a new sibling.
I mean, given that Greatwyrms are basically minor gods in their own right, only really needing a few things to make it official, I could easily see Taylor reaching that point, eventually.
Bringing 01
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
Chincoteague Island, VA
22 May 2011, Morning
"...NOAA predicts that the tropical depression currently in the mid-Atlantic should strengthen, and make landfall somewhere between the DelMarVa Peninsula and the Outer Banks…" Cody reached over and turned the radio off. They had been stuck out in the abandoned town of Chincoteague for the last couple of weeks. Francis had been trying to come up with a decent plan to get Noelle help. Then he had run out of cigarettes, and was now nearly as bad as the girl as he went through nicotine withdrawal.
"That's just what we need," he growled. "A fucking tropical storm."
Jess looked over at Cody. "Why are we still here?" she asked as she worked at getting things cleaned up after breakfast.
"Because my fat ass is too big to easily hide," snarled Noelle. "And because Francis ran out of cancer sticks, he can't come up with a decent plan." No one sat too close to her, because the last thing they needed was a bunch of clones running around doing Lord knows what.
Cody looked over at the girl-turned-monster-from-the-waist-down. "I don't know why we just don't surrender ourselves to the Protectorate. I mean, we're less than two hours away from three of the largest Protectorate bases in the country. And isn't this supposed to be what they're supposed to take care of?"
"We can't surrender ourselves to the Protectorate," Francis spat out as he exited his tent, "because we're both villains and escapees from a containment zone. Moron. They're more likely to toss us back behind the walls and forget about us. Then MOAB the place when Noelle loses it."
"You paint such a lovely picture, Krouse," Cody said, with no small amount of sarcasm. "Yes, it's likely, but do we actually know?"
"I don't know!" Krouse screamed back.
"Then maybe we'd better find out," snapped Jess from her wheelchair. "Luke and Marissa should be back soon from doing some shopping. Since you were busy muttering to yourself last night and not answering any of my questions, I gave them the list of things we need, not things we want."
"My fucking smokes had better be on that list."
"Oh, they are," she said with a smirk. "At the very bottom of the priority list."
Cody immediately put himself between Francis and Jess. He saw the look on Krouse's face, and what he intended. "Dude, don't even think about it." Both of their fists were clenched, ready to strike the other.
Francis had stopped after the first step, because Noelle had stood up.
"You're supposed to be the team leader," Noelle snarked, glaring at him. "In my place, because I'm rather noticeable and have worse impulsive fits of rage than you do.
"Well fuck that noise. The villains we've talked to couldn't do anything. Blasto was too frightened to do more than whimper when he saw me, Accord asked us politely to get out of Boston. The guy we were going to work for in Brockton Bay suddenly died. We've been strung along by those promising a cure, only for them to take advantage of us, and then dump us when we become too much trouble." Noelle's face was going through a number of emotions as she ranted. "I know why we haven't approached the PRT or Protectorate, I don't like the idea of getting thrown in prison in general any more than you do. But we've got to do something, and we're all running out of ideas. And I might be running out of time."
The last came out as a sob, and the girl started crying.
Luke and Marissa had arrived during the breakdown. "We'll, we've got good news. I purchased a burner cell phone, and we had enough money for some of Francis' cancer sticks, but only one pack," Luke said, setting down his container of several bags of groceries.
Marissa nodded. "The bad news is that this represents the last of the cash we had. We'd better do something, because we'll be out of food again in a week.
"So we can add another couple of felonies to our collective rap sheet," Marissa continued, "or we can willingly turn ourselves in and seek help. Your call, leader man."
"I vote we give the PRT a call," Oliver said.
"My opinion's known," Noelle stated quietly.
"I'd say we call," Jess added.
"Luke, Cody, Marissa?" Francis asked.
"I think we're all in agreement," Luke said. "Here's the phone, give the PRT a call."
Washington, DC is a lovely place to be a tourist, Michelle thought to herself. At least with the tropical storm moving in, it's less crowded. The out-of-costume Mouse Protector was currently one such tourist, accompanying her father and grandfather who were going to pay their respects to their fallen comrades at the various memorials over the upcoming Memorial Day weekend.
She was currently down on the Potomac River, looking over the ship moored there as a museum and memorial. The battleship USS Montana, last and largest of the big gun battleships. She'd served her country proudly, along with the Iowa class battleships, through the second World War, the Korean Conflict, and Vietnam. They were modernized in the eighties, before the advent of Parahumans and the downsizing of the military. The last five battleships were preserved, ready to be called into action.
It was unlikely they'd ever be reactivated, given the threat that roamed the seas, but the Navy fought tooth and nail to keep the five ships maintained and on the register.
"Yo, Mickey!" a voice called to her. Of course, only one person used that nickname for her.
"Hey, Raven. Enjoying DC?"
"Actually, yeah," Raven, better known to the public as Ravager, nemesis of Mouse Protector, admitted. "Thanks for the invite."
"Not a problem." Michelle looked at the ship. "I wonder what she was like in action?"
"A gift from God for the friendlies, and a curse to those who opposed her," Raven said quietly. "My great uncle Stan served aboard her in the Pacific. She could throw twelve Volkswagen Beetles at you from twenty miles away, and be reasonably accurate. All the mistakes learned from the previous classes were solved with her. She took a Long Lance hit meant for another ship, and it didn't even slow her down. He called her a 'feisty young gal', and would smile fondly." Raven sighed. "I miss the old guy. Say, Mickey?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you kinda felt uneasy lately?"
Michelle nodded. "Yeah. I think it has to do with that tropical storm due to hit the area. It's making a lot of people nervous."
"If you say so."
Welshie took note of the daily reports coming in from the various sensors her task force had dropped in the Atlantic. Looking at the pattern of dropped sonobuoys and other, slightly more esoteric sensors in the region, it was far from the kind of complete coverage the Fleet of Fog preferred, but it was enough to know something strange was going on.
"It's a bit early in the season for a full-fledged tropical storm headed that far north, isn't it?" she asked.
Uber was sitting on the bridge with her. "A little, yes. Usually they hold off until July or August." A look of deep thought crossed his face, and then he pulled out his phone. "Could you bring up the plot of your unknown?"
A thought from the mental model had a display window with the current data from the unknown they'd been keeping tabs of since they made their way north to Brockton Bay. It displayed the current heading, depth and speed. It was moving along the bottom of the ocean, having crossed the mid-Atlantic ridge and was on a great circle course straight into the middle of the East Coast.
Uber looked at his phone, and then the display. "Fuck." His face had gone pale.
"Something I should know about?" Welshie asked.
Uber turned the phone to show its display to Welshie. It didn't take long for her to pull up another window showing the current output of Dragon's Endbringer tracking page -- the same page Uber had on his phone.
The plot on the two displays matched perfectly.
They looked at each other. "That's no tropical storm," they said in unison.
Welshie sent a quick message off to Tess, and another to Dragon.
Taylor walked into the Wards area aboard the rig, only to find the things from her room packed up and waiting alongside others in their common room. Miss Militia and Battery had handled the packing up of her, Missy's, Dinah's and Takara's quarters, while Assault and Triumph had handled the boy's rooms.
"Things are beginning to go south in a hurry," Battery explained as she handed her bags to her. "Leviathan's headed for the East Coast, and we're evacuating all nonessential personnel inland. Only a skeleton crew will man The Rig, and command and control will be handled out of Albany. Log into the Console to find out where you're going to be."
With that, Taylor was pushed out the door, with Missy and Takara soon following. They made their way up to the flight deck, and waited for the boys to show up.
"So, should we wait for Weaver?" Carlos asked as he and others arrived.
"Are we all headed to the same place?" Chris asked in return.
"I'm here!" Weaver scuttled her way out onto the flight deck from the side of the Rig. "What? They said to get up here quick and the elevators were busy."
"They're putting us up at Pease for the next five days," Missy said. "We're supposed to make our own way out there, the transports are all busy."
"I have an idea," Taylor said, a grin on her face. "Let's take care of the small stuff first." With that, she pulled out a square of silk, and unfolded it onto the deck, forming a large hole. "There should be enough room in there for everything."
"What is that?" Dinah asked, looking over the edge into the impossible pit that somehow went through the flight deck without entering any of the support structure or rooms below.
"It's called a handy hole," Taylor replied, handing things down to Carlos and Chris, who had flown in and were piling them up neatly. "It's basically a hole that I can stick stuff in, then fold it up and take it with me." The group made quick work of the small pile of containers and suitcases. Once the boys were out, Taylor folded up the hole and stuck it in a belt pouch. "Now, I assume our normal fliers will fly over; Pease is within range, isn't it? So we really only have one problem passenger."
"That's not as much of a problem as you might think," Dinah said, pulling out her special ring and placing it on a finger. There was a twinkle of blue sparkles, and, with only a wince of pain, Dinah was standing on two human legs, with a skirt for modesty. "This seems like a good use for this today."
"Mind-blowing secret abilities aside," Dennis quipped, "I'm assuming that those of us who can't fly are riding?" He tapped his chin as he thought for a moment. "I could probably handle everyone, but I've been asked not to use the full sized form in the city unless an Endbringer is attacking. Since I don't see one, I can take only one passenger."
"I'll be the brave one," Dean volunteered. "I hope I don't regret this."
"If I drop you, I'll be the one regretting it," Dennis said, "because your girlfriend will probably kill me. Followed by mine."
"I would rather not have a rider," Takara quietly said. "My flying tends to be more..."
"Acrobatic?" Missy suggested. She'd been one of the volunteers for that.
"We'll go with that, thank you. I don't want anyone getting sick." 'On me' left unsaid. Dennis hadn't taken the attempt well, but that had been before he could fly on his own.
"I can take the remainder, then." With that, Taylor changed. "Come on, you two," indicating Missy and Dinah. "Climb aboard, and we'll get underway."
As the afternoon drive home got underway, the citizens of Brockton Bay got to witness a small flight of dragons take off from the Rig and head inland, escorted by two flying Wards. A few were heard to complain that the weird stuff was happening off schedule, but they were largely ignored.
22 May 2011, Morning
"...NOAA predicts that the tropical depression currently in the mid-Atlantic should strengthen, and make landfall somewhere between the DelMarVa Peninsula and the Outer Banks…" Cody reached over and turned the radio off. They had been stuck out in the abandoned town of Chincoteague for the last couple of weeks. Francis had been trying to come up with a decent plan to get Noelle help. Then he had run out of cigarettes, and was now nearly as bad as the girl as he went through nicotine withdrawal.
"That's just what we need," he growled. "A fucking tropical storm."
Jess looked over at Cody. "Why are we still here?" she asked as she worked at getting things cleaned up after breakfast.
"Because my fat ass is too big to easily hide," snarled Noelle. "And because Francis ran out of cancer sticks, he can't come up with a decent plan." No one sat too close to her, because the last thing they needed was a bunch of clones running around doing Lord knows what.
Cody looked over at the girl-turned-monster-from-the-waist-down. "I don't know why we just don't surrender ourselves to the Protectorate. I mean, we're less than two hours away from three of the largest Protectorate bases in the country. And isn't this supposed to be what they're supposed to take care of?"
"We can't surrender ourselves to the Protectorate," Francis spat out as he exited his tent, "because we're both villains and escapees from a containment zone. Moron. They're more likely to toss us back behind the walls and forget about us. Then MOAB the place when Noelle loses it."
"You paint such a lovely picture, Krouse," Cody said, with no small amount of sarcasm. "Yes, it's likely, but do we actually know?"
"I don't know!" Krouse screamed back.
"Then maybe we'd better find out," snapped Jess from her wheelchair. "Luke and Marissa should be back soon from doing some shopping. Since you were busy muttering to yourself last night and not answering any of my questions, I gave them the list of things we need, not things we want."
"My fucking smokes had better be on that list."
"Oh, they are," she said with a smirk. "At the very bottom of the priority list."
Cody immediately put himself between Francis and Jess. He saw the look on Krouse's face, and what he intended. "Dude, don't even think about it." Both of their fists were clenched, ready to strike the other.
Francis had stopped after the first step, because Noelle had stood up.
"You're supposed to be the team leader," Noelle snarked, glaring at him. "In my place, because I'm rather noticeable and have worse impulsive fits of rage than you do.
"Well fuck that noise. The villains we've talked to couldn't do anything. Blasto was too frightened to do more than whimper when he saw me, Accord asked us politely to get out of Boston. The guy we were going to work for in Brockton Bay suddenly died. We've been strung along by those promising a cure, only for them to take advantage of us, and then dump us when we become too much trouble." Noelle's face was going through a number of emotions as she ranted. "I know why we haven't approached the PRT or Protectorate, I don't like the idea of getting thrown in prison in general any more than you do. But we've got to do something, and we're all running out of ideas. And I might be running out of time."
The last came out as a sob, and the girl started crying.
Luke and Marissa had arrived during the breakdown. "We'll, we've got good news. I purchased a burner cell phone, and we had enough money for some of Francis' cancer sticks, but only one pack," Luke said, setting down his container of several bags of groceries.
Marissa nodded. "The bad news is that this represents the last of the cash we had. We'd better do something, because we'll be out of food again in a week.
"So we can add another couple of felonies to our collective rap sheet," Marissa continued, "or we can willingly turn ourselves in and seek help. Your call, leader man."
"I vote we give the PRT a call," Oliver said.
"My opinion's known," Noelle stated quietly.
"I'd say we call," Jess added.
"Luke, Cody, Marissa?" Francis asked.
"I think we're all in agreement," Luke said. "Here's the phone, give the PRT a call."
<<--<<>>-->>
Washington, DC is a lovely place to be a tourist, Michelle thought to herself. At least with the tropical storm moving in, it's less crowded. The out-of-costume Mouse Protector was currently one such tourist, accompanying her father and grandfather who were going to pay their respects to their fallen comrades at the various memorials over the upcoming Memorial Day weekend.
She was currently down on the Potomac River, looking over the ship moored there as a museum and memorial. The battleship USS Montana, last and largest of the big gun battleships. She'd served her country proudly, along with the Iowa class battleships, through the second World War, the Korean Conflict, and Vietnam. They were modernized in the eighties, before the advent of Parahumans and the downsizing of the military. The last five battleships were preserved, ready to be called into action.
It was unlikely they'd ever be reactivated, given the threat that roamed the seas, but the Navy fought tooth and nail to keep the five ships maintained and on the register.
"Yo, Mickey!" a voice called to her. Of course, only one person used that nickname for her.
"Hey, Raven. Enjoying DC?"
"Actually, yeah," Raven, better known to the public as Ravager, nemesis of Mouse Protector, admitted. "Thanks for the invite."
"Not a problem." Michelle looked at the ship. "I wonder what she was like in action?"
"A gift from God for the friendlies, and a curse to those who opposed her," Raven said quietly. "My great uncle Stan served aboard her in the Pacific. She could throw twelve Volkswagen Beetles at you from twenty miles away, and be reasonably accurate. All the mistakes learned from the previous classes were solved with her. She took a Long Lance hit meant for another ship, and it didn't even slow her down. He called her a 'feisty young gal', and would smile fondly." Raven sighed. "I miss the old guy. Say, Mickey?"
"Yeah?"
"Have you kinda felt uneasy lately?"
Michelle nodded. "Yeah. I think it has to do with that tropical storm due to hit the area. It's making a lot of people nervous."
"If you say so."
<<--<<>>-->>
Welshie took note of the daily reports coming in from the various sensors her task force had dropped in the Atlantic. Looking at the pattern of dropped sonobuoys and other, slightly more esoteric sensors in the region, it was far from the kind of complete coverage the Fleet of Fog preferred, but it was enough to know something strange was going on.
"It's a bit early in the season for a full-fledged tropical storm headed that far north, isn't it?" she asked.
Uber was sitting on the bridge with her. "A little, yes. Usually they hold off until July or August." A look of deep thought crossed his face, and then he pulled out his phone. "Could you bring up the plot of your unknown?"
A thought from the mental model had a display window with the current data from the unknown they'd been keeping tabs of since they made their way north to Brockton Bay. It displayed the current heading, depth and speed. It was moving along the bottom of the ocean, having crossed the mid-Atlantic ridge and was on a great circle course straight into the middle of the East Coast.
Uber looked at his phone, and then the display. "Fuck." His face had gone pale.
"Something I should know about?" Welshie asked.
Uber turned the phone to show its display to Welshie. It didn't take long for her to pull up another window showing the current output of Dragon's Endbringer tracking page -- the same page Uber had on his phone.
The plot on the two displays matched perfectly.
They looked at each other. "That's no tropical storm," they said in unison.
Welshie sent a quick message off to Tess, and another to Dragon.
<<--<<>>-->>
Taylor walked into the Wards area aboard the rig, only to find the things from her room packed up and waiting alongside others in their common room. Miss Militia and Battery had handled the packing up of her, Missy's, Dinah's and Takara's quarters, while Assault and Triumph had handled the boy's rooms.
"Things are beginning to go south in a hurry," Battery explained as she handed her bags to her. "Leviathan's headed for the East Coast, and we're evacuating all nonessential personnel inland. Only a skeleton crew will man The Rig, and command and control will be handled out of Albany. Log into the Console to find out where you're going to be."
With that, Taylor was pushed out the door, with Missy and Takara soon following. They made their way up to the flight deck, and waited for the boys to show up.
"So, should we wait for Weaver?" Carlos asked as he and others arrived.
"Are we all headed to the same place?" Chris asked in return.
"I'm here!" Weaver scuttled her way out onto the flight deck from the side of the Rig. "What? They said to get up here quick and the elevators were busy."
"They're putting us up at Pease for the next five days," Missy said. "We're supposed to make our own way out there, the transports are all busy."
"I have an idea," Taylor said, a grin on her face. "Let's take care of the small stuff first." With that, she pulled out a square of silk, and unfolded it onto the deck, forming a large hole. "There should be enough room in there for everything."
"What is that?" Dinah asked, looking over the edge into the impossible pit that somehow went through the flight deck without entering any of the support structure or rooms below.
"It's called a handy hole," Taylor replied, handing things down to Carlos and Chris, who had flown in and were piling them up neatly. "It's basically a hole that I can stick stuff in, then fold it up and take it with me." The group made quick work of the small pile of containers and suitcases. Once the boys were out, Taylor folded up the hole and stuck it in a belt pouch. "Now, I assume our normal fliers will fly over; Pease is within range, isn't it? So we really only have one problem passenger."
"That's not as much of a problem as you might think," Dinah said, pulling out her special ring and placing it on a finger. There was a twinkle of blue sparkles, and, with only a wince of pain, Dinah was standing on two human legs, with a skirt for modesty. "This seems like a good use for this today."
"Mind-blowing secret abilities aside," Dennis quipped, "I'm assuming that those of us who can't fly are riding?" He tapped his chin as he thought for a moment. "I could probably handle everyone, but I've been asked not to use the full sized form in the city unless an Endbringer is attacking. Since I don't see one, I can take only one passenger."
"I'll be the brave one," Dean volunteered. "I hope I don't regret this."
"If I drop you, I'll be the one regretting it," Dennis said, "because your girlfriend will probably kill me. Followed by mine."
"I would rather not have a rider," Takara quietly said. "My flying tends to be more..."
"Acrobatic?" Missy suggested. She'd been one of the volunteers for that.
"We'll go with that, thank you. I don't want anyone getting sick." 'On me' left unsaid. Dennis hadn't taken the attempt well, but that had been before he could fly on his own.
"I can take the remainder, then." With that, Taylor changed. "Come on, you two," indicating Missy and Dinah. "Climb aboard, and we'll get underway."
As the afternoon drive home got underway, the citizens of Brockton Bay got to witness a small flight of dragons take off from the Rig and head inland, escorted by two flying Wards. A few were heard to complain that the weird stuff was happening off schedule, but they were largely ignored.
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
Post-like Object, Ahoy!
TaliesinSkye needs all the good vibes, chicken soup and orange juice we can muster, and McClaw would like a Cup of Hot Cocoa. They deserve it, because they have to put up with me and my attempts at writing a coherent story.
And please, before starting up the ranting : This is an AU, and there are differences in the past that will be explained, either in story, or in informational posts.
So, Enjoy.
Music for the first part : Foundations of Stone
Looking for suggestions for the second and third.
TaliesinSkye needs all the good vibes, chicken soup and orange juice we can muster, and McClaw would like a Cup of Hot Cocoa. They deserve it, because they have to put up with me and my attempts at writing a coherent story.
And please, before starting up the ranting : This is an AU, and there are differences in the past that will be explained, either in story, or in informational posts.
So, Enjoy.
Music for the first part : Foundations of Stone
Looking for suggestions for the second and third.
- Location
- Louisville, KY
MP made friends with Ravager rather than annoy her into calling the S9? Huge change.
FaerieKnight79
Verified Pixie
- Location
- The Internet
Worse then that. From what she said, Ravager had already started to do something horribly stupid and got luckier then she ever has before.
FaerieKnight79
Verified Pixie
- Location
- The Internet
Dragons and shipgirls and mice, oh my. I can't wait to see what happens.
- Location
- Here
The USS Montana. A Standard Class Battleship with 133% the Big Gun Action as the Iowa Class Fast Battleships. A ship designed not only to fire up to 12 1000 pound Shaped Charge shells in a single volley, but able to tank a hit from one to it's armor belt.
The Author said this was an AU. He wasn't kidding. They have the Most Powerful Battleship Never Built sitting in reserve.
On a side note, let it be said that Taylor's collection of trinkets make Tinker Tech cry "Bullshit!"
The Author said this was an AU. He wasn't kidding. They have the Most Powerful Battleship Never Built sitting in reserve.
On a side note, let it be said that Taylor's collection of trinkets make Tinker Tech cry "Bullshit!"
It's next week that's not an update, because it's so close to Thanksgiving.
- Location
- Somewhere, Maybe
That's the USS Missouri, the one that was the host to the Japanese Surrender at the end of WW2. She's one of the Iowa-class Fast Battleships, and currently moored somewhere in Hawaii, IIRC.
The Montana was 25% more Iowa. 4 triple-turrets instead of 3, thicker armor, and just as fast. Even more AA guns too, and the Iowas were like having two Fletcher-class Destroyers strapped to each side of your bote to begin with.
If -she- wakes up, pray to whatever goddess is out there, that she's in a Fightin' Mood, because Levi needs to get a talkin' too.
Suryn
On the wings of a Dragon
It's not somewhere in Hawaii. It's Pearl Harbor, as the Honor Guard for Arizona.
I'm surprised only 1 Montana was built. If the okay was made to actually finish them, Kentucky was already under construction to.
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
It's not somewhere in Hawaii. It's Pearl Harbor, as the Honor Guard for Arizona.
I'm surprised only 1 Montana was built. If the okay was made to actually finish them, Kentucky was already under construction to.
The Author comes to attention and salutes, showing respect for the honored war dead.
I was there, once. Laid over for 36 hours while flying home. Went and paid my respects at both.
And who has said -only- one was Built? Granted, it may be a class of two ships.
I'll have to do a world building post about the 30's & 40's. Please note that Kentucky and Illinois were Iowa class battleships.
Suryn
On the wings of a Dragon
The story post said it was the last built, and since it was the name ship of the class I thought it was the only one built