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From the desk of Treize Khushrenada

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From the desk of Treize Khushrenada

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Treize Khushrenada on Sat Oct 28, 2006 11:17 am

It is with insurmountable sorrow and grief that I sit here today writing this letter. News of the attack on Wing City has, of course, reached me here in Luxembourg. The city, being of a fairly large size, is reported to have a population of somewhere around five million people. Of these at least two-thirds have been identified among the deceased. To the surviving families and loved ones I send my deepest condolences, and the hope that they can carry on the memory of those departed with the brilliance of a Grecian flame.

But it is my belief that all things that fall do so for a reason. The attack was not random, and if we were only to read the signs beforehand I am afraid that such a tragedy could have been avoided. To this new Troy, Helen was vengeance, and there was more beauty in her for those that sought it than there could have been in any woman. They came seeking their justified Helen, and when she would not be given up freely, the next logical step was taken.

The loss of life is appalling. I must stress that first and foremost. But had it not been for the acts, the desperate, degrading acts of certain individuals within the city, such a loss of life would not have occurred. Two days before the city was demolished, a building, the International Embassy to Wing City, was completely annihilated by a terrorist group operating out of the run-down, little known establishment known locally as Gambit’s Bar. This attack was unprovoked and resulted in roughly a thousand initial deaths. Keep in mind that this was two days before the city itself was attacked, and that the terrorist group is not connected with this much larger force that now looms over it.

It is in my opinion that the attack on the city was an attack on this degradation of moral standard that runs rampant within it. Observing this fact, it is important that the next steps taken by the remaining citizens of Wing City are the right ones. All of Troy came to Paris’s aid in his greed and lust to keep Helen by his side. All of Greece descended upon Troy, and the gods themselves led a helping hand to level it because of that abominable hubris. Let Wing City not make that same Trojan mistake. The terrorists are not to be protected. This ‘resistance’ that has surged forward must be disbanded immediately, for the sake of the innocent that still call the city their home.

May the grieving find solace in the fact that peace is still well within their grasp.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Leon Gray on Sat Oct 28, 2006 3:33 pm

In reply to: Treize Krushrenada

I understand yoru sorrow, I live in Wing City myself, and you could not even comprehend the merciless bloodshed the terrorists have provoked. We are a resistance to make them fall, not just make them hurt the city more. Your references to Troy...this is nothing of the sort.

They attacked our city under no circumstance. Who would destroy so much because of low moral standard? The only ones that could believe such things are fools.

We are not disbanding. W.I.N.G.E.D shall rise, and bring peace to our city.
(Email: mailto:leon_the_drow@yahoo.com. <---Best way to contact)

"Listen man, if I attempt to Spaghettify you, you WILL be spaghettified. No freakin' way around that. Seriously. God."

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Zhelir Darkfall on Sun Oct 29, 2006 12:03 pm

The remaining electronic equipment in and around the city was sparse, but it was present -- the Town Square's loudspeakers being among them. To every television, every radio, every speaker, there was a pirate signal broadcast. On the television, the visage of a gaunt man in his late twenties appeared. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, his matching raven eyes held a determined scowl. To all three media devices, his voice was broadcast, proud and strong, his recently transient accent gone for the time being.

"Citizens of Wing City, I hate to clutter your lives further with yet another pointless message that few of you actually pay attention to, but I must set the record straight.

"This 'Treize' character is as horribly misinformed as he is useless. Given his message, he assumes there were multiple assailants to his precious Embassy -- he is wrong, and I'll neither have another man take the credit or take the fall for my work. I destroyed it. Me. And it is not the first to go. Treize is a mere pawn, I have a larger picture in mind. You folks who are too cowardly to fight would do best to leave this city, it'll be a long time before I let it see peace.

"I am Captain Zhelir Corten Darkfall, and I have but one thing to say to Wing City: No rest for the wicked."


The signal cut to one final image of him, no cocky grin on his face, no look of sorrow or regret, only grim determination.
STAVE: Commala-come-ki,
There's a time to live and one to die.
With your back against the final wall
Ya gotta let the bullets fly.

RESPONSE: Commala-come-ki!
Let the bullets fly!
Don't 'ee mourn for me, my lads
When it comes my day to die.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gundam Gears on Fri Nov 03, 2006 9:57 am

Gears entered the area, stepping around with his face being shown, blue eye's, rather clean shave with raven red hair in the cut of a fade. He would speak, cutting in at the end of Darkfall's message before the man shut it down, he had connected. Through the speakers and T.V.'s and all that could be seen or heard as follows.

"I am Gundam Gears, I am new to the area, and I have met some good people. But I have recognized this destruction once before, in my early ages of life. Lexenbourg is a city not to be trusted, as would Treize, for he cannot fight his own battle, but has others do it for him. This man has no balls, But Zhelir, what you just did, telling everyone that you did that destruction, even tho' you may be my enemy, I respect that. But still, watch your back."

The signal would cut out, as a loud slamming door was heard, with voices yelling to get down. But gears would not, last that was seen was Gears fighting a few officers and running to his Gundam to escape the area, and let it cool down.
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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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gabriel Faile on Fri Nov 03, 2006 2:38 pm

The frame of a tall skinny man pushed open the door to the office of Treize's large building. The experienced thief known as Grifter had easily slipped by all of his defenses. He was not worried about keeping his presence a secret now.

He brought his two hands together and adjusted the black fingerless gloves that covered them before dropping the right to the side and fiddling with the hunter green goggles upon his black spiked hair.

As Treize's eyes lifted to from the desk Grifter ran his hands down the lapels of his tattered grey tench coat. He brought his right arm across his stomach almost reaching for the pistol that hung reversed upon his left side, but as his fingers dangled above the handle he pressed the hand into his stomach and bent over in a bow.

"Mr. Khushrenada, I am Grifter, yours to command."

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Gabriel Faile
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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Treize Khushrenada on Fri Nov 03, 2006 6:09 pm

That oceanic gaze was leveled on the other, not the smallest hint of surprise hidden even in the farthest reaches of their depth. Contrary to what his new guest would believe, the guards had known very well of his presence for some time. That man seated behind the desk had suspended the order that would mean certain death, a flighty escape or a brief scuffle in favor of seeing this new character’s intentions.

Correspondence had been pouring in over the past week, none of which he had felt the need to respond to. It seemed like every idiot with a gun wanted to play the hero these days. Whether it was over the airwaves or in the streets, it seemed like there was no one without an opinion, but none of them seemed to know exactly what he had intended by the letter, nor what the second attack on Wing City had signified. He had been painted the villain a long time ago, and Treize Khushrenada fully realized that such a role in the eyes of the people in question would probably last until his dying breath; more probably after that. It had ceased to bother him some time ago. Such things had to be disregarded in the matters he involved himself with.

A thin smile formed at the corners of those tightly sealed lips as he heard the other’s words. Could this new face be trusted? Probably not. But he hadn’t trusted anyone since…

He made no verbal reply, simply nodding elegantly, setting down his pen and looking to the figure over steepled fingers, waiting for him to continue, if that’s what he was going to do.

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Treize Khushrenada
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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gabriel Faile on Sat Nov 04, 2006 12:32 pm

He rose back to his full height and saw that Treize was now gazing upon him. He smiled to himself. Fairly impressed that he had infiltrated Luxemburg. He moved forward and pulled off his coat before draping it over the back of one of the two chairs in front of his desk, before sliding around it and slipping into the seat.

He raised his left hand up in the air so Treize could see it. The wires connecting the Sonic Boom Emitter were draining off of it into a forearm shackle. Grifter grinned as he made sure that Treize was watching the hand.

Grifter flicked his wrist and there was a small throwing knife in his hand. He spun it around very quickly. It was almost hard to see, but he knew that Mr. Khushrenada would be able to keep track of the blade. As he was twirling it he flicked his wrist and the blade grazed pass Treize's cheek. Not enough to cut it, but enough that the cold of the steel could be felt.

"I'm right handed."
He said plan and simple. There was no denying that Grifter was fast.
"Not only am I quick and smart, I'm an experienced Matchstick Man. They don't call me Grifter for nothing. I'm also an experienced Marksman and I won't hesitate to kill."
He then leaned back into the chair and crossed his legs. His right arm reached across his chest and took a hold of the wrist of the other arm resting on the back of the chair.
"Now, do I have a job? Or are you going to get some guards to try and kill me?"
He replied bluntly with a content little smirk on his face.

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