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Forces Collide

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Forces Collide

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby TehDerek on Tue Nov 14, 2006 8:06 pm

[align=center]Morning Dawn – At First Glance[/align]

The first sprawling reaches of the morning’s touch penetrated the thick composition of the clouds above, offering a muddled glint against the carapace of a titan.

Momentarily shifting, the downcast rays of sunlight ignited the golden inklings of epidermis that molded affectionately into the black, bearing a far too well known insignia of times long past.

Two colors, when separate bore only their predestined outlook to any who’d pay homage. Yet, when combined with the artistic brush of war, bore no ill favor of decorating battlefields with the fallen, all in accordance with a single’s ideals.

[align=center]Morning Dawn – Demon at the Wheel[/align]

The initial clicks of correspondence sounded from within the enclosure of the mobile suit itself, lifting freely from the mechanics of the open door to spill throughout the area. Test after test, system after system, the suit prevailed with undying determination as the mere simulations passed with only the grace of a swinging sword.

With the original concealments that once withheld the mobile suit gone, the dispersing cloud coverage offered far more liberties for prying eyes, yet he cared not. Everything was ready. Everything was prepared! He simply had to wait for the fellow members of his consortium to rejoin their fallen ranks and all would be finished.

Lifting a gloved hand from the controls, Derek placed a firm grip against one of the bars that offered secure passage in and out of the cockpit. Propelling himself upwards from the interiors clutch, the dim glare of innard lights fell away into darkness as the suit entered a type of sleep mode.

Dropping against one of the furrows that adorned the chest plate, the Southern Wind lifted a hand to pluck the cigarette so meticulously placed behind his right ear, shifting its position to his lips. A quick light later, he walked, anxious and uneasy about events still to come and those that left a darkened impression upon the population of today.

Turning, with a faint wisp of smoke escaping the right corner of his mouth, Derek cast a momentary glance upon the darkened eyes of the mobile suit before him, the only suit he’d ever piloted to wield no name. The right corner of his mouth lifted, offering only the faint tinge of a signature smirk as his needless inspection ceased by the sudden blare of alarm pouring from the still open cockpit.

”Visitors…”

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OOC: Zechs wrote this.

IC:

The sweeping desert, lightly touched in its cold blue nocturnal state by the pink of a rising sun, shot along below him at a blinding speed. His arms poised, almost tense at the consol, directed the controls meticulously, making every shift and sway of the Tallgeese exactly what he had intended. Speed was what this suit had been designed for, and speed was what Zechs was relying on; what he always relied on. His first target he had located with ease. The out of date communications system used by the pilot of the enemy suit he was approaching had tipped him off to the location, and so he had taken off immediately south after retrieving the suit from his carrier in Tuscany.

The deserts of Morocco were some of the hottest on the Earth, but at this time of morning it would be barely any warmer than a New England autumn. Finally that dark suit loomed into view and the reverse thrusters of the Tallgeese were fired up, the metallic behemoth coming to a stand. Zechs opened a channel to any receivers in the area with a flick of a switch.

"You are in violation of the North African armistice treaty," that gruff voice boomed through any speaker within distance. "Please step away from the mobile suit and come peacefully, or I will be forced to remove you." Let him fight, Zechs wished silently. You don’t know how much I want to make you hurt.

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[align=center]A Glimpse of the Past[/align]

The sudden clash of sand lifted in massive slashes across the terra firma, slamming its course composition against the exposed skin of his upper body and daring to take the cowboy hat from his head if he hadn’t snagged it. The remnants of his cigarette failed to sustain the same luck.

“Well well, lookey ‘ere…”

Wonder never ceased to amaze, especially when they took on the face of long dead legends. A statement, which might have even categorized him at that point, yet was a subject for another time. Lifting his head carefully, he inspected the suit, the construction giving away more to the pilot’s trained eyes than any would imagine.

The heavy sway of sarcasm sunk into his movements as he took a few casual steps towards the still open cockpit of the mobile suit beneath him. Lifting his free hand, Derek cast a slight wave before stepping into the darkness, almost sure that the variation of the Tallgeese before him was preparing for attack.

Yet, there simply wasn’t time…

The diesel that bore the massive mobile suit soon expended its internal fuel containments in a massive explosion, casting a massive cloud of dust and debris into the air, a fair assortment aimed towards the Tallgeese variation itself. Pouring outwards in a massive clog of gray smoke, flame, and burning metal, the temporary distraction was gift enough.

Energy crackled, rippling into the physical plane of reality as it danced across the portions of metal around the cloud before their boiling points passed by a heat much greater than they could sustain. Molten portions of metal poured from the skies, carefully assorted around the area and moving within range of the Tallgeese itself.

The dualed Ion beams of the Twin scythe that had so recently gave herald to the Masata name ripped through the cloud, separating it with grandeur ease as two of the rear thrusters fired behind the suit. Propelling forwards, the suit with no name progressed at nearly uncharted speed as the gravity around it slacked its grip, allowing the mobile suit free reign as it advanced upon the Tallgeese with unpredicted fervor.

He was sure…Correction, he was absolutely fucking positive that Zechs clenched those pearly whites just tight enough to crack one of them as he surpassed the Tallgeese, moving high above it and into the skies. Laughter spilled forth across the comm. Channels, bearing that same southern accent that still haunted many to this very day.

“So, you came to fight, aye ‘Dead Man’? Seems you kids these days jus’ can’t pick your battles too well. The name’s Derek Masata, in case you didn’t know, and you aint the only one crawlin’ outta’ a casket these days.”

Arrogance and sarcasm, his favorite coupling for words with an opponent, easily spilled forth as the mobile suit towered high above the Tallgeese, expertly twirling the massive Ion weapon in hand.
Image

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TehDerek
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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gundam Gears on Wed Nov 15, 2006 10:13 pm

OOC: Mind if I join in this after I finish the last post in my RP as Gundam Gears?
Though my right hand is made of metals, I am still a normal man.. For the normality is always there, you just don't know it..(I build Gundams)

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