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The Beginning

a topic in Gundam Wing: Continuing Legend, a part of the RPG forum.

Original GWing Storyline, now AC 202.

The Beginning

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Remæus on Fri Aug 12, 2005 7:06 am

OOC: With the power vested in me... I hereby declare the GO signal.



Genesis

With high expectations Human beings left earth to begin new lives in space colonies. However, the United Earth Sphere Alliance gained great military powers and soon seized control of one colony after another, in the name of justice and peace.

The year was After Colony 195, the beginning of Operation Meteor.

In a move to counter the Alliances tyranny, rebel citizens of certain colonies schemed to bring new arsenals to the Earth, disguising them as shooting stars. However, the Alliance headquarters caught on to the operation...

Five shooting stars went to Earth, each sharing the same destiny, and each would change the course of history for mankind.

At the end of an involved battle, their sole revolutionary leader, Treize Khushrenada, took on the task of closing the curtains of an era, and died in battle. That gave birth to the Earth Sphere Unified Nation.

After Colony 196. No military weapons remain in the Earth Sphere. However, as mankind exists, there will always be battles.

After Colony 197. Peace has returned to the people. Weapons known as mobile suits, including the Gundams, were never seen again.

After Colony 199. Three years have passed since the events that rid the world of combat-oriented mobile suits. Milliardo Peacecraft has once again denounced his namesake, and has used his private wealth and resources to reproduce all mobile suits. He makes a speech stating that his actions were for the good of man, to satiate the human desires.

As long as mankind exists, there will always be battles.

The Earth Sphere and the Colonies are still at peace. National conflict is now resolved through long, drawn-out, often never-ending verbal battles. However, personal conflict and crime still exist.

Some choose to fight back by forming factions to pool the resources of many to support the action of a few.

Some choose to fight back individually by approaching those with conflicting views and killing them by hand, blade, or bullet.

Some of the more wealthy choose to dedicate themselves to obtaining mobile suits, by either creating their own or purchasing those that are newly produced. This group of people has become an elite group, as very few can collect the necessary amount of credit to secure a mobile suit on their own.

Some even choose to follow the legacy left behind by such legends as Treize Khushrenada, Chang Wufei, Zechs Marquise, and even Heero Yuy, and begin to once again take up arms simply to feel alive.

"History is much like an Endless Waltz. The three beats of war, peace, and revolution continue on forever."
"...Kind of makes me feel like Riverdancin'..."
Last edited by Remæus on Thu Sep 20, 2007 8:38 am, edited 4 times in total.
Reason: Custom formatting needed to be re-parsed.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SinfulSoul on Thu Sep 01, 2005 1:54 am

"And Milliardo is supposed to be a Peacecraft. I can't imagine how much of a disgrace he must be to the pacifist royal family."
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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Warr on Thu Sep 01, 2005 11:07 pm

A heavy sigh came from the lips of a young looking man. A man with dark brown hair that resembled black. That was almost black. He wore a dark blue buisness like suit, the kind that you didn't need a tie for. His eyes were intense, passionate, enchanting... They were dark blue, but seemed to have slight other colors in them aswell as his emotions changed. His hair was somewhat long, going down almost to his shoulders, and was bunched close together. He wore it in a ponytail, and it was carefully combed back, leaving only some of his bangs, the shorter ones, not pulled back into the ponytail. He was sitting in a lounging chair at a desk, and his eyes stared intently at the computer/television that was infront of him, listening to Peacecrafts' speechs on ENN. (Earth News Network.)

""This could prove to be a bother...""

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Zhelir Darkfall on Thu Sep 01, 2005 11:16 pm

OOC: Just to make mention, but all location forums are IC, as well. (Example: Sanc Kingdom, Lagrange Colony 01, etc.)

To be clear.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Warr on Thu Sep 01, 2005 11:34 pm

OOC: I think that was understood already for the most part, Zhelir.

The young man moved his hand towards his waist, where a cellular phone lay on his belt, through the help of a cellphone holder.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby The Southern Wind on Fri Sep 02, 2005 10:15 pm

Smoke wavers upwards as the gaze of hazel eyes fall on the blood staind cloth that lay sprawled before him, the growth of the cemetary nearly impassable. A slender hand, scarred viciously reaches forwards to slide it's nimble fingers across the lettering of the "}{G" embroidered in gold across the back of the jacket before pulling it from the stone it covers to reveal the poorly scratched words that it hides "Derek".

The hand places the coat atop of it's owner's shoulder before moving it's fingers upwards across the brittle granite before coming to a stop at the hat residing. The hand lifts the hat upwards, placing it atop of his head as he rises, his back turning from view to move back into the growth.


"}{G lives on."

A cigarette drops, yet the smoke continues to flow.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby JimBob on Sun Sep 04, 2005 10:32 pm

A relatively young woman, pushing upward 20's, sighs heavily and narrows her eyes in disdain."A mobile suit, eh? What rubbish."The woman, sliding back a lock of black hair behind her ear, closes her eyes for a moment. The woman is obviously from the Asian region, most likely Japan. She opens her charcoal black eyes and leans forward on her desk, planting her elbows on top of her monthly calendar. She rests her chin on her hands, thinking quietly to herself. She is wearing a light grey business suit with a white blouse underneath, and a skirt which hits a few inches above the knee. Tapping a high heeled foot against the floor, she ponders the current situation and civil unrest."Here goes the galaxy..."

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby HELLFISH88 on Tue Sep 06, 2005 5:43 pm

*On the Desolate and Destroyed Island Of Cuba, A tall man with medium length brownish gold hair sit's in the ruins of an old Cuban Cafe near a small cove*

Yes" the man said resting his chin on his hands. "It is time, Time for a new age of mankind, an age of equality".

*The man lean's back in a rusty chair and crosses his legs*

"It's only a mater of supplies now"

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Aarkon on Mon Sep 12, 2005 1:31 pm

A man sat as the counter of a local restaurant, in his hand was a fork, which he used to poke at his food. It had looked appealing when he bought it, but now he wasn't hungry. He dropped the fork and looked up at the Television... They were running it again, the time when Peacecraft announced he owned his own Mobile suit. The man's lip curled in anger, but was soon subsided as he ran his hand through his raven hair, which fell over his shoulders loosely. Mr. Peacecraft was smarter than most knew, the reason he owned an operated a Mobile suit was for them. For their protection no doubt. "Another Mobile Suit war is coming..."

The woman behind the counter looked up, "Wha'sat sweetie?" The man looked up, and gave a sweet smile to the lady.

"I'd like another cup of your tea, if ya don't mind. Fantastic it is." The woman gave a giggle and moved to fetch him some more tea. The smile disappeared. He reached into his long black jacket, grabbing the payment for the meal, along with a tip, and tossed it on the counter next to his still full plate. He slid off the stool and walked out of the restaraunt, sliding his hands into the pockets of his coat. He began to whistle, a nice melody, up-beat and attractive. He turned the corner, and a loud explosion was heard, screams filled the street. "... And I'm gonna be in it." He smiled once more.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gabriel Faile on Wed Sep 21, 2005 8:45 pm

In a dark apartment down town Paris. A smoke dropped to the floor from the long nimble fingers of Gabriel Faile. A descendant of the French monarch King Jean Faile. He sighed as his barefoot dropped on top of the lit butt. His tattered baggy blue jeans where all that he wore. Gabriel was mainly a shut in. Saw some friends once in awhile, like Frankie, or even his old war buddy Xavier over in North America, once in awhile. Once in awhile. The war had made him quiet and untrusting for the most part.

Gabriel just sat there in front of the TV lighting the room. His mouth was open for a minute as he suddenly realized the horrors about to come. These past tense months had lead up to what Gabriel knew was going to be another war. Now it was pretty much inevitable. Sighing again he shook his head to himself.

"I need to get anot'er suit."

Were the only words he could think of to break the silence that had suddenly become very uncomfortable.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Heero_gundam101 on Fri Sep 23, 2005 3:06 pm

A older man stands out in the cold in Siberia, watching his breathe as he dwells on the future and his past. Running his hand through his red hair. Looking up toward Space he smiles slightly and then frowns.

This is going to be trouble, i can feel it now... God.. I'm to old for this crap
The man thinks with a disgruntled look slowly crossing his face.

Turning the man walks back toward the building he had exited to clear his mind in the cold air

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Seraphina Alighieri on Thu Sep 29, 2005 10:36 pm

A small thin woman with long black hair sits in a an open air cafe' in the heart of Florence. Her young face is marred by knit brows reflecting the concern that is chewing at the back of her mind. Her hands tremble with fear as memories try to puch their way to her conscience mind. Tears gather and threaten to fall down her olive sheeks.

"How could this be, Mio Dio, how could this be," she whispers to herself.

SHe stares into the steam of her cappacino.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Zeke on Sun Oct 02, 2005 11:57 pm

Lighting up a black cigarette the man leans against a lamppost in the center of Toronto. His firey red hair flows in the wind as he takes a large drag. He stuffs the black zippo back into his pocket before removing the cigarette from his mouth. It's proceeded by a large cloud of smoke. He turns his red eyes up to the sky and then down to his watch below the black trench coat he wore. Smiling to himself.

"You're late Virgil."

His accentless voice whispers as he turns to see a man with placid blue hair wandering down the street. He was dressed in the same apparel as the main against the lamppost. The one against a lamppost took a huge drag before putting his weight back on his feet as he smiled at Virgil.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Virgil on Mon Oct 03, 2005 12:06 am

He runs a hand through his bright blue hair as before smiling at the Zeke. The man before him in the busy Toronto street looked as suspicious as he did, but he smiled at him none the less.

"Afternoon Brother."

He watched a smile creep to Zeke's lips as he the word 'brother' left Virgil's mouth. Virgil stuffed his hands into the pockets of the mirror image of Zeke's trench coat he wore as he too pulled out a cigarette. A white one, instead of a black one. Same make and strength as Zeke's just in different paper.

"Shall we?"

Zeke asked. Virgil nodded and turned to walk with him down the street before the two of them dissappeared down a dark ally.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby SSJHunterKiller on Mon Oct 03, 2005 9:40 am

Val sat in a booth in an overly crowded bar with several of his team mates. Most of them were far beyond drunk and still drinking. Val was one of the only two that weren't drunk, well, at least not drunk to the point they couldn't think or act straight.

"Look like this is it James. Were going back into the saddle and this time we're going to make sure that he knows were out there."

"You know we will. We'll be the biggest thing to hit Lord Milliardo's military in years. Only problem, he still doesn't know we exist, or if he does, he's doing a damn good job of acting like he doesn't know."

"Don't worry, we'll get to him one way or another and we will continue to serve him."


With those words Val downed the shot of whiskey he had been holding in his hand for the last few minuets.
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Re: The Beginning

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Azamiko on Sat Jun 09, 2007 11:01 am

Smiling, and humming lightly under her breath, the waitress approached Val's booth. She was wearing jeans and a plain black t-shirt and was almost too cheerful for the atmosphere. It was hard to tell how old she was in the dim lighting, but the bounce in her step labeled her as young.

"'Nother shot? Whiskey, right boys?"

She grinned.
'By any means necessary. Heh, that's when your ideals outweigh your conscience. The question is: are you willing to give up yourself--your idea of who you are, of what is right--to help other people?"

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