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Within the City of Paris

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

Original GWing Storyline, now AC 202.

Within the City of Paris

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gabriel Faile on Sun Sep 11, 2005 2:33 am

The man sits in a warn down brown leather chair in the midst of a dank one room appartment. His hand is limp down the right side of the chair holding a lit cigarette. The light from the TV bounces off the walls, it is the only source of light, save the smouldering smoke between his forefingers.

Milliardo Peacecraft's image streaked across the Television more than once. He did not often watch TV, but tonight was different. The Peacecraft's had just declaired war. He wondered over it for a moment before lifting the limp right hand to his soft lips to take a long drag. The ashes fell to the floor infront of him. He wasn't worried. After another drag he pinched the finished smoke on the arm of the leather chair beside many other burn holes. Gabriel stood and his left hand through his shaggy brown hair. He looked at his wrists, they were still taped. He wasn't exactly sure why he had taped them up and his hands. Maybe he went boxing the other day. It didn't worry him for long. What was really on his mind was where did he stand during this war. Long ago he had fought under Zechs Marquise, who was now going under the name Milliardo Peacecraft, either way he had fought for this man before. He was now calling for war to preserve peace. Sighing he turned around and wandered over to an old oak cabnet. Opening the middle drawer her with drew his hip holster and his old Colt. Exhaling deeply through his nose he added these items to the blue jeans and black boots he wore. His shirt was on the floor...somewhere. With a muscular chest exposed the 20 year old man began to search the appartment for the shirt and a small piece of paper with a phone number on it. He would need the number most of all.

When he came across the number he already had his shirt on covering the pistol. Looking at the number he ran his hand through his hair again stretching the muscles in his back a little as he did so and whispered to himself.


"Fuckin' war...I can't believe it. Though, which side do I stand on this time 'round?"

His monologue finished with him picking up the reciever to the phone nailed to the wall near the door. The sound of quick rings flourished through the head set. A paranoided voice answered.

"Hello?"

"It's Gabriel."

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Gabriel Faile
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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gabriel Faile on Sun Sep 11, 2005 5:22 pm

""Gabriel?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"Where do you stand?""


The words uttered by the hushed voice on the other end of the phone made him pause for a moment and drop the paper with his number to the floor. He didn't need it any more. He thought about where his alliance should be this time. As an ex member of White Fang he considered if this was a return of OZ. Knowing enough about Zechs he shook the thought from his head and a grin spread to his lips.

""With the Peacecrafts.""

Gabriel replied as he picked up a pack of cigarettes with his right hand holding the phone into place with his shoulder. He slipped a smoke out of the pack and between his lips waiting for the mans reply.

""I figured as much.""

Gabriel nodded as the man replied to him. He knew he was smiling on the other end. Finding a lighter beneath some papers he lit the smoke and took a long drag before he spoke again.

""How much is it going to cost me these days Frankie?""

""More than you've got.""

""Frankie...""

""A mill and two hundred.""

Gabriel took another huge breath of the smoke and exhaled through his nose. That was quite the ammount of money.

""I'll get it.""

""Then call me when you get it.""

Sounds of a dial followed a slight click indicating he had hung up the phone. Frankie was like a drug dealer, just as paranoid, but his "stuff" was a little more expensive and a whole lot more effective in a time of war. Sighing he took another huge puff of the smoke and held it in this time. He still couldn't believe it. Zech's declairing war...

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gabriel Faile on Tue Sep 13, 2005 12:13 am

Gabriel wandered through customs of the Paris airport with no luggage at all. Which was made quite apparent that it was suspicious when he was pulled into the security office for questioning. They ran over the usual things, where he was going, why he was going all followed by an unnecessarily sexual frisk. Leaving the office he managed to board his plane just before the engines fired up. He sat in the back of the large Beoning 747 model. As the plane began to move Gabriel closed his eyes and didn't open them until it landed.

The jerking of the plane and the sound of rubber burning pavement made him open his eyes calmly. He was not asleep. He hardly ever slept. Somethings he just didn't like, and that was one of them. When the breaks eased the pilots voiced echoed throughout the cabin.

"Thank you for flying Air France and I would like to welcome you to your destination where it is currently four-o-seven in the am. Please enjoy your stay." There was a slight pause. "Merci pour voler de France d'Air et j'aimerais vous accueillir à votre destination où c'est actuellement de quatre o-sept dans le suis. S'il vous plaît apprécier votre séjour."

Gabriel rose from his seat and filled out the door. He made his way quickly out of the airport before turning out onto a dark street and hailing a cab. He told the driver the address and lit up a smoke in the backseat. Unrolling his window he looked out upon the seemingly dead city. Rows upon rows of buildings passed, with no life evident. It was too early for them.

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Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Gabriel Faile on Sat Sep 17, 2005 1:01 am

His first step back on French soil after his trip to the Americas resulted in the phone call to the man named Frankie. He was standing outside the airport with a lit cigarette between his lips.

"Yeah, yeah I got it. Where? All right, be there in an hour."

He shut the phone ending the call before hailing a cab. The bright red car came to a screeching halt in front of him. The smell of burnt rubber filtered up into his nose. He took a seat on the leather seat at the back and gave directions to the cabbie.

An hour later the very same cab came to a halt at a junk yard far outside the boundaries of Paris. Gabriel stepped out with another smoke lit. He paid the cabbie and went into the yard. A stubby little man waddled out of the office toward Gabriel.

"Gabe!"

"Frankie, it's been a long time."

"That it has..."

"You got it?"

Frankie turned around and began to waddle away with the flick of his wrist to say follow me. Gabriel flicked the butt and started off after him. They came upon a large pile of rusted car parts. Frankie motioned for him to stop before he got into a magnetic crane of sorts. There was a loud hum followed by the metal launching sporadically into the air. Gabriel's face was consumed with a smile at the sight. It was an Aries. One of the older models, from the OZ factory itself. It looked almost brand new. Frankie approached Gabriel and noticed the pleased look.

"Never been flown."

Gabriel shoved a large sack into Frankie's hands before making his way toward the Aries. He hopped up onto the chest cavity of the beast. It almost looked like it was sleeping. He turned back to Frankie and grinned before disappearing into the cockpit.

Hissing and cracking were heard as the Aries began to rise. He opened up the visual display and heard the crack of the new joints. He lifted the brand new chainrifle to his gaze and looked it over turning it once or twice. Gabriel smiled as he located the switch for all four missile pods.

"Fuckin' gorgeous."

Gabriel's soft spoken voice echoed out of the Aries

"Enjoy."

Frankie waddled back towards the little building where he had come from digging his arm into the bag feeling through the bills. Gabriel couldn't stop smiling as he bent the knees and the Aries rocketed off. He was back.

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