2011-01-31 - Night of the Leapus

It was night time and rain had come over the land. Lighting crashed over the skies between clouds as the booming roar of thunder echoed over the dessert land. It didn't rain often here, but the tonight it was and coming down hard. There was a convoy also driving in this heavy rain across the road way heading for their location to drop off the shipment.

What did this convoy hold that was so special?

War-heads. Lots and lots of war-heads all waiting to be used for the efforts of the war.

There was a spotter armored van in the front and one following the rear, attempting to keep an eye out for any trouble. Trouble they were to soon find.

The Trailers who had been commissioned to get the warheads, had already been dropped off ahead of the Convoy to intercept, at which they had the cover of the large mountain to thank. Their mission was to intercept the Convoy, gather as many war-head as possible, and get out. The pay was high, damage cost covered, ammunition--

Not so much so.

Any others coming to assist the Trailers, would also find themselves with this nice funds as well.

Unknown to perhaps the Trailers, there may also be some Divine Crusaders following this convoy, just in case something like a sneak attack would take place.

There are a few Divine Crusaders following the convoy, but not ones the Trailers might expect. High up in the sky, a squadron of Cutlass class fighters are watching the convoy from high above keeping up with the convoy at their cruising speed. In a classic chevron formation, they watch the convoy as the commander sends out a communication to someone. "Knight Lead to Seraphim command--" A female voice answers the comm. "Seraphim command here." "My Lady, we have a convoy down here that has spotters. They must be transporting something important. What are your orders." "Observe for now, Knight Lead. But use your best judgment, and come home safe." "Yes ma'am. Knight 3 and 4, take a closer look." "Yes Sir." Two fighters break formation and make a power dive for the convoy, leveling out at 100 feet above the ground, screaming by the convoy at Mach 1, definitely sure to ring the ears of the drivers....

 James Heller transmits, "Oh Ravens eh?"

 James Heller transmits, "Well then it's time to mash some metal."

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "James! Can you hold the assault?"

 James Heller transmits, "What is it? We got some raven's wings to clip."

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "Let's first see what they are carrying... and give them a chance to give it up freely if we see a use for it."

After his recent... /humiliating/ defeat, but some person who never even identified themselves, Ascian was requested to come back to Earth. This wasn't exactly the first this this had happened. But any moment away from Mars just means a hard time getting back to the planet that he calls /home/. However, the reason for being called to earth wasn't to reprimand him. Due to his responsiveness to recent problems, he had been given increased clearance. And out to at least prove himself somewhat, he's out in the only unit he took along to earth. With the Amenthes stuck at the NUT facility, instead he is on a small flying transport - flown by a few non-descript Divine Crusaders.

Standing inside of the transport, in the cockpit, he is looking out the window as reports start coming in, and the unit continues along the road northward to keep following the Divine Crusader caravan. "Give me the microphone." Ascian commands, and is given the object.

Soon, shouting over the area as the machine begins to fly lower, is Ascian's voice; "Trailers! You are in Divine Crusader juristiction. Please stop your vehicles and do not further approach the escort, or we WILL open fire." Who died and made him boss?

Minutes Ago

High up and far away, floating in orbit against a hunk of space debris, a solitary, black machine rests, apparantly nothing more than a discarded heap of old Ray-Leonard NEXT technology. If left undisturbed, it would last for thousands of years, a testament to the scientific achievement, and economic hubris of mankind.

Unfortunately for many, this is no mere chunk of space junk and rubble.

A solitary individual, clad in a black flight suit floats slowly toward the mishmash of parts and machine. He reaches for its cool, black arm, grabbing hold and pulling himself towards it. A silent command, the torso blossoms like the petals of a steel chrystanthemum, allowing the man to float into its heart.

Gloved hands wrap around a pair of gunmetal grey manipulators. The helmet parts slightly at the nape of the neck as a series of wires like technological lampreys latch firmly to the pilot's flesh. His eyes flash momentarily, blue, then blood red as the cockpit comes aglow with boot-screens.

'Pilot, RL-X, confirmed. The Bird of Hermes is My Name.'

'Eating my wings to make me tame.'

Its shoulders open with a hiss. A sudden pulse of exotic particles ruptures the trash pile, and a new star burns in the sky, green and white light glowing in sharp contrast to the black and crimson below. Unsung's thrusters kick in. Its opticals glow brightly as its thrusters explode with sudden fury. Green and white meet fierce orange as it falls into the atmosphere...

Australia, Now

A green star falls from the sky. Impossible physics drive it forward and keep it safe, wrapped in a sphere of barely contained ecological disaster. This is the byproduct of years of ambition, necessity, and the grand process of free market capitalism. And as it descends, its thrusters and the sound of oxygen being obliterated and remade into motes of ozone looses a sound yet Unsung in the Outback.

"Attention Trailer forces," the voice intones, dignified and deep, intimidating and /dripping/ with charisma, "I shall be lending you my assistance this day."

There is something just close enough to not be beyond the horizon. Something that looks so ominous as to be able to freeze the blood. It is not the fact that this unit is red, criss-crossed with bloody red lines. It is the fact that the unit is identified as VNC Violence. A legendary unit from the One Year War, that has claimed more lives than can be counted. Used in ghost stories, but forgotten for a long, long, time.

And yet, it is back, to haunt the fields of battle once again like a Wraith with bloodied claws. It's reverse legs are locked in the knees, as the whole torso is hunched down, observing the distant approach of a convoy, a single bloody red eye twinkling with a infernal glow.

However, it's long time of absence has caused the story of the Violence to just be a urban legend-- /At best/-- most of the new generation pilot would not even recognize the unit nor the specification. Some might even think it's easy pickings.

The pilot inside watches in silence as the convoy approaches, radar bleeping with two incoming fighters. The red eye narrows down it's glow to a thin slit--

It will wait. For now...

Commission to grab a few big missiles? That's some risky stuff. Especially involving the Divine Crusaders.

The pay was the most important part of it, though. Just enough to make it something that just can't be missed. With Gekko State most likely taking a hit on the up and coming operation, resources of the cash variety were always a welcome addition.

Shooting up off a mountain, the LFO flips out, board slid from over to under the machine as it stretches out. A thin green ribbon of light trailed after the red Terminus, steadily spreading out and vanishing in the sky. "Holland here-" But before he can continue, the NEXT pilot speaks up. That is after arriving in a way devoid of any degree of subtlety.

Geeze. "Alright, you can lead then, how about it?" Less work for him to do. The R909 dives towards the transport, board pointed towards it. In response to the please of 'don't get any closer', the R909 crosses above it, twice, leaving twin lines bisecting each other in the trapar, visible for at least a dozen seconds.

X marks the spot!

Duo Maxwell didn't do raids. He had a very strict rule; he didn't kill people for money, and that was that. It wasn't something he negotiated on; as the God of Death, he would be a shameful psychopomp if he brought people to meet their makers on the coin of another man. The God of Death could not be bought, could not be swayed; those who saw his true face would die, and those who wished him to play the role of assassin were sorely mistaken. Only one man commanded him, and that man hadn't given him orders in a very long time.

But attacking a DC Convoy is an altogether different thing. While he couldn't take Deathscythe Hell out on a mission like this (Juku would *kill* him if he got the armor scratched over something so trivial), Gundam Reaper was a totally different story. The purchased Gundamfighter was his backup unit; it was something of a different story than the hyper-advanced rebuilt super-Gundam he usually operated. As he sits in the cockpit (totally naked - enjoy that, fangirls), his legs crossed, his hands settled on his feet, he goes through the boot-up routine of the Gundamfighter carefully. Eyes; check. All systems reading OK; radar OK. All that was left was...

God, he hated this part.

"Mobile Trace Suit, OK," Duo sighs, and the spandex envelops him in an instant as the twin rings roll down. For a moment, he can feel the absolute crushing pressure; the intense pain that came from being a Gundamfighter, if a bit toned down for his own survival as he *wasn't* one of those insane warrior people. It wraps around his skin in ways that are best served for a yaoi or otherwise sexually charged fanfic, and he stands up, the jet-black suit clinging to him in thoroughly unpleasant ways as red circuit lines confirmed his connection to Reaper. A large, heavy energy scythe forms in his hand; in the other hand, a massive, coffin-shaped shield.

Reaper rises from the truck nearby; the cloth falls off like water as the machine rises, huge metal dragon-headed scythe and massive coffin shield in its hands. Inside, Duo licks his lips and grins; he hadn't been out for a while.

"Alright, Divine Crusaders... c'mon an' face th' one an' only God of Death! We'll be takin' that cargo before you can put it t'any kinda evil use!"

Man, it was good to get out of the house! Even if it was in this stupid trace suit.

Why did he sign up to this mission, again? That's the question Ted Morrison has been asking himself for the first half an hour that they have been hiding behind this batch of hill, just waiting for the signal to come right out and start blasting. Raids are a long-time honored tradition in any sort of military action. You can cripple the hell out of an organisation just by pecking at it's supply lines. Still, doing raids flags you pretty hard on the faction's shit list. Though by what he heard, just by being a gravity-loving realising-that-the-human-body-needs-gravity colonist, he's probably ALREADY on the Divine Crusader's shit list. So, might as well be FORMALY introduced into it. Still, even with the dangers, Ted has to get money with his accounts /kind of hard to reach/ in Erehwon. His mech is powered down, to prevent easy detections. Plus, there is another reason why he's nervous. It's on the Panther's back. Normaly, they're not so friendly.

There is totally not an elemental on Ted's panther. There absolutely is not an elemental with stealth systems on waiting for someone to get close enough to the panther for it to leap off and try to tear their face off. Don't mind that she will probably leap off prematurely unless there are orders to contradict that, but that's beside the point. For now, Elena is waiting on the back of Ted's panther.

The stealth systems are pretty heavily encompassing as well. Even her radio is masked right now. Her weapons are hot, and she's itching for the fight. The elemental shifts ever so slightly, turning here and there.

Nearly every cargo vehicle in the Divine Crusaders' convoy is filled to the brim with warheads of all sizes and payloads to better advance the ideals of murdering the shit out of people; it's a tradition going all the way back to the time of Bian Zoldark, who would have used the weapons to murder the shit out of people for a really good long term cause instead of just, well, because.

Only one trailer is different from the rest, though from the outside it is, for all intents, identical.

MEANWHILE JINDAI HIGH SCHOOL THE CAFETERIA

"So, yeah," Darcy Weyland murmurs to the girl sitting across from her. "I guess it--I guess you all have to talk about it, but I just... I guess... figured..."

The raven-haired Junior's head dips ever lower with each word that falls from her mouth; simultaneously, warm and deeply uncomfortable redness creeps up along her chest, her neck, her face... the senior opposite her purses her lips and reaches across the table to pat one of Darcy's hands.

"No, no," the senior quietly replies, "I mean, uh, yes, you know, we're... we're gonna have to vote on it, but 'The Fourth Impact' is just as good of a winter formal theme as, you know... 'Under The Sea', or 'A Night Under The Stars', or--or whatever else." There's a beat, and then the senior manages to force half of a smile. "I'm, uh, pretty sure the--the paper mache Angels might be a little, uh, what's the--what's the word, uh--provocative though?"

"... oh," Darcy exhales. Part of her is relieved; the rest wants to flee to a bathroom stall just to hide from the older girl's forced understanding. Fortunately, her cellphone offers /some/ distraction by vibrating loudly in her blazer's side pocket.

'AUS UNDER ATTACK,' scrolls across the phone's text window. 'VIRUNGA ON BOARD.'

"Oh," Darcy mumbles as her eyes get wide and she flips the phone open to jab at some of its keys. "I gotta--I gotta g--"

"Wait!" The senior bolts to her feet, clapping a hand on Darcy's shoulder before the nervous daughter of corporate evil can even stand. "I was just thinking, just in case your idea, uh, /doesn't/ go through, well--you could still be on the committee, right?"

"Well--well, I /guess/, but--"

"So we could still... talk about ideas, right?"

"I--I--" Darcy swallows; behind the other girl's now too-broad smile she can feel guilt. Desperation. Sympathy. With a tiny shudder, Darcy's teeth find her bottom lip and her finger hits one more button. "Yeah, Kimiko," she mumbles as she slumps in place. "Yeah, sure."

BACK TO AUSTRALIA

Red lights blaze to life within one of the cargo trailers; a steady percussion echoes from behind its walls. The convoy may be prepared to continue moving - to /escape/, really - but this particular trailer isn't going anywhere.

Within a minute, a massive fist covered in shiny silver metal and splotches of black fur and ochre pustules explodes through the trailer's side; pale grey mist pours through the rent.

And an unearthly howl resonates across the Outback.

Archangel had been edgy, he really had been. The dity blonde ex-soldier had been spending short nights and almost walked on the edge of paranoia. Even now with Roger Smith trying to handle the problem that has arisen, the Raven Founder was ever watchful, but when this mission came to his door-step..

How could he say no?

He needed this, he needed to get out and spread those wings.

So here was Archangel now, within his white AC Gabriel in the middle of Divine Crusader soil, in the rain, mud, grime, and lightning. Gabriel's back was near the mountain side, watching the lightning strikes in the sky, hoping that it didn't decide to strike the tallest object, which maybe, if he was lucky, wasn't his baby.

Archangel then waited for the convoy get in his radar but tsked as he saw some and then heard what he wasn't expecting. Divine Crusader forces - The big gun types.

"Knew I should have made that deal about the ammo." Archangel grumbled to himself, as he then took note they were spotted.

His simple reply to Ascian was this: "Go shove it, Crusader. That cargo is going to be ours and there is nothing you pretty boys can do about it."

Gabriel then blasted out from around the corner, about the time the howl kicks out, "Oh boy..." He mutters to himself. However he poked his head out, even with over-boost on thrusting him quickly across the wet lands to try and grab Divine Crusaders attention, including taking out the lead spotters tires in the process to slow down the convoy.

He had yet noticed the engima of a machine in the distance.

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "Hey... I gave him a chance."

James Heller has got a request and really Ascian has a very good point. Still it will likely end in gun shots. But hey sometimes talking works, after all he's seen strange things wandering various worlds after all. He does however raise an eyebrow at a few things that's interesting. The machine keeps rolling while james deals with some comm related things. The machine's actually driving it self.

"Well then Raven, let's see if you'll be the last shall we?" James still moiving in SMS mode opens fire at the Raven.

"LISTEN UP YOU GEAR HEADS ITS TIME TO MASH SOME METAL!"

.oO(Man that was such a good fighting league...)Oo.

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "By the way... who's the owner of the jets?"

The distant unit moves lower, even further, it's reverse legs giving it advantages other units wouldn't have. It braces itself, arm digging into the ground as the FCS within the cockpit starts tracking individual targets.

"LYNX-type detected. Point of entry: Vector Sigma 7-7-7-8-0-1 Alpha. Specification unknown." Goes the AI voice within the cockpit. "Tactical Data reveal a conflict to --"

"Shut up. I am not blind."

"Yes, sir."

"Reconfigure FCS for missile-lock mode. We'll be engaging multiple targets."

"Sir, that would be unwise."

But this time, the pilot had no answer. And as the specific beep and click of the FCS lead targetter changes to a trajectory control display, the unit's shoulder mounted Missile Packs open up, revealing several holes.

"Calculate distance and trajectory for it's speed. Include air humidity, we are in the southern hemisphere."

"Done."

And than the pilot presses a button, and two missiles eject from their host, streaking towards the Unsung-- splitting into six missiles individually, with suddenly much more increased agility.

"Air Burst missiles have a lock."

And that means those missiles explode before they make contact. The ball is rolling.

Okay, so, this *was* a routine smash-and-grab. And then suddenly it became very much not that at all, with a *giant fucking robot monster* emerging out of the middle of the convoy with a giant howl. The big silver thing was going to be a huge problem if they let it get out of control... but fortunately, it looked like it was pretty slow - definitely slow enough for Duo to handle, right? So he'd deal with that... before it got outta hand and killed everybody.

"Alright guys, I'm gonna go put a scythe t'that big ugly thing." Duo's eyes shine as his free hand wraps around the scythe's hilt. The Reaper's shield rises like a buckler, pulling on his arm; Duo grunts as he reminds himself that he's not in his buddy, and the weight was totally different.

"Crap," Duo mumbles, "I guess I'm gonna hafta make do!" The shoulder-mounted verniers kick up, fire pouring down the arms as it launches into the air. Reaper soars towards the ugly silver Machine Beast, dancing between the fire of the convoy as it goes; a few shots plink off the coffin shield, but nothing substantial lands.

"Hey! Ugly!" Duo calls as he swings the scythe up above his head, "Let's see if yer alive enough t'get killed! It's yer bad luck - yer up against th' one an' only God of Death!"

Reaper's blade swings around, backed by both hands and its own metal weight. It was different; Duo had forgotten just how different it was, swinging a physical sword from a beam one.

Hopefully that lapse of memory wouldn't wind up getting him killed. Oh well - he'd just have to adjust before the monster adjusted him to death!

Missiles rock the Unsung. Its pilot does not seem concerned. Instead, his lips spread into a knowing grin as the projectiles collapse and detonate against his machines primal armor. "So, you've showed your face," Thermidor says smoothly, evenly. His eyes glow softly as his cybernetics interface with the black machine's left arm. Through the fire and flames, a soft 'ping' of a confirmed lock-on signals that Unsung has found its prey.

"Well then, mister Jack. I'm afraid we have some business to settle, though I doubt we will have the opportunity to finish our affairs today. However," The railgun suddenly crackles as a shard of razor-sharp material loads onto its catapult. "I believe this is a good way to measure your worth. Now then..."

Unsung's finger pulls the trigger.

A single slug breaks the sound barrier and hurtles through the air, aimed for the other black machine's distant torso. "Let's begin."

The White Ac quickly skates along the ground, mud kicking up from under its passing feet, splashing up onto the white metal surface, as the red optical lens locks onto who is taking aim. Archangel within grinning like the mad hatter, as James lets loose with the SMS, which rattles holes into the Raven's machine, it too returns fire with the its own machine gun, before it quickly skids around.

Archangel takes a quick glance up at the fighter squadron, before making a note on his radar where everyone is.

"Unknown presence in area." The computer chimes in at last bring it up on the radar.

This causes Archangel to pause in that request of the radar status, then just stare for a moment, "..and who are you.. Computer, keep marked as unknown till we get a sig."

"Acknowledged."

Gabriel mean time is jumping into the air, before the missile pod on the shoulder rolls up, then a few of the pods open before firing a stream of missiles go screaming for their target.

The computer chimes in after the attack was launched, "Unknown signature has commenced combat."

"With who?"

"NEXT Unit."

"..tsk..Mark as foe."

"Acknowledged."

Missiles rock the Unsung. Its pilot does not seem concerned. Instead, his lips spread into a knowing grin as the projectiles collapse and detonate against his machines primal armor. "So, you've showed your face," Thermidor says smoothly, evenly. His eyes glow softly as his cybernetics interface with the black machine's left arm. Through the fire and flames, a soft 'ping' of a confirmed lock-on signals that Unsung has found its prey.

"Well then, mister NEXT, though I doubt we will have the opportunity to finish our affairs today, it seems we do have some business to attend to. However," The railgun suddenly crackles as a shard of razor-sharp material loads onto its catapult. "I believe this is a good way to measure your worth. Now then..."

Unsung's finger pulls the trigger.

A single slug breaks the sound barrier and hurtles through the air, aimed for the other black machine's distant torso. "Let's begin."

The two fighters pull up a few hundred feet away when the lasers (bullets, missiles) begin to fly. However, the squadron had been listening to the comms and the commander had to make a decision. All right Knights, form up. Let's see if we can't keep these guys from getting the convoy." Taking a more aggressive formation, They seem to zero in on the Panther, seeing fit to fire their chainguns at the still somewhat immobile mech, barking their fury at the Panther.

Ascian sighs as Archangel replies. "Sir, can we fly a bit lower?" One of the men suddenly asks. The reason soon becomes clear, as a white SHOCK of white darts through the air - laying into the ground. The machine rumbles thanks to the sudden turbulence caused by the displacement of air.

Holland's unit, the LFO, leaves a beautiful trail of glistening green light in its wake then, creating an X above the convoy. And Archangel's voice then confirming that the trailers certainly were not going to stop. "Very well. To all Divine Crusaders. Kill and Destroy! They have denied out warning we so graciously offered them, and so rudely for that." The young man then puts down the microphone. "Take us above that LFO." He directs the transport and then heads to the back of the flying freighter.

Hidden within the darkness is one of Dr. Hell's monstrocities - an amalgam of Ganmen and Evangelion. Partially fleshy, partially metal, large maw, big head, black... dangerous. The machine is somewhat bend over, and a little cable gives access to the opened chestpiece - flesh and metal 'pulled' aside and showing the inside of the cockpit. It doesn't take long for Ascian to get into the machine, and the full 360 screen to show green thumbs-ups, as well as a comic version of Dr. Hell's head, chomping up and down, as numbers go up - the machine readying up. *chomp* 10%, *chomp*, 60%, *chomp*, 100% -- and then suddenly a big image of Dr. Hell, floating in front of Ascian with a quickly circling pink-and-purple background, giving a freshmaker smile and a giant THUMBS-UP!

The freighter's back gate then suddenly open, and Ascian puts his hands firmly on the two metalic braces. He locks himself in with the use of the seat and the belt, then pushes his both hands backwards. The machine spawns a gigantic pair of wings which /splurt/ out along with disgusting liquid spraying from it, their fleshy webbing catching the wind, and then finally pulling it out of the machine with its right arm up. It finds itself directly above Holland's unit. "DEATH FROM ABOVE!" Ascian suddenly calls out, and pushes down that arm... wings folding... and the unit begins /plummeting/ towards the ground. Or rather, towards the LFO... quite intent on grabbing it mid-flight and crush it into the ground.

JINDAI HIGH

Darcy Weyland has to try very, very hard not to flinch. Integrating Flash System broadcast circuitry into her cellphone was rather a necessary stopgap measure after that time she tried but failed to respond to a Crusaders emergency while on a crowded subway, and like her usual staff, her phone's circuitry is already making it a touch difficult to sort her Machine Beast's nervous impulses from her own.

"Darcy?" Kimiko queries for the fourth time in a row. "Daaaaaarcyyyyy..." The senior leans forward, waves her hand briskly in front of the younger girl's eyes and wonders to herself what Darcy would do without someone so kind and understanding as she to put up with her seemingly chronic levels of weirdness.

"Ah!" Darcy suddenly exclaims while clapping her hand firmly around Kimiko's wrist. "I--I'm here. Um. Uh... yeah, I think a--a Lacus Clyne cover band is a /great/ idea..."

Darcy's eyes drift towards her phone, and after releasing Kimiko's wrist she begins surrepitously jabbing her thumbs into its keypad to compose a text message.

'I serve...'

AUSTRALIA

"... the God of Rebirth!" intones an even, feminine voice within the Reaper's cockpit. "Death doesn't scare me anymore."

Reaper's scythe left an oozing line etched across one of the Machine Beast's pustules, and as the howling monstrosity rips its way through its storage container to taste free air, the oozing liquid is joined by a jet of that grey mist spewed directly from the wound, towards the Reaper.

It is, apparently, a concentrated corrosive agent of some kind; how the container's insides were undamaged by it swirling around, and moreover why this thing even has it in its body are mysteries best saved for another time.

"This is Virunga Q4," the voice continues as all twenty five meters of Dr. Hell - or /someone's/ - tumorous, cybernetic mockery of a silverback ape rises to its full height. Its mouth is filled with fangs, some ivory and some metal, some whole and some jagged, all wickedly sharp. It beats its fists powerfully against its chest; a weird harmony of metal clangs and hollow thumps sounds.

"Maybe I'll have a little more luck on the fear front than you."

Ted Morrison, seeing that the is SOMETHING in the cargo that wants to get out angrily, lets out a litany of curses under his breath. Okay, ambush's opportunity gone. Time to kickstart this machine right up. By the time the lovely computerised voice is saying 'All system nomimal', Morrison is gripping tight on his controls. He lets out an even louder swear as the radar comes on, right before the servos seeing the planes coming down his way! "Shit, shit, shit, shit!" Servos are still down. However, the Panther is very much Baron Harkonnen without the fat: it never walks. It flies. The improved jump jets flares to life in the middle of the start-up sequence, just in time to avoid the chain gun fire, riddling holes in the ground he was mere seconds before. The rest of the procedure flares up, the machine activating to full power. His first act in buisness is to return fire with missile, but without a solid lock, they fly wild. "COME BACK HERE Y'LITTLE PIPSQUEAKS!" El Presidente shouts, flying his BattleMech against a plane. Sure, he can't match their speed, but with some careful manuvering, not even speed is going to save them from a gout of hyper heated plasma. "ALRIGHT, LADY, IT'S SHOW TIME!"

James Heller machine is fast it's also small only 4.6 meters, it's also painted black and on the right shoulder is faded talon grabbing some logo or another. James it hit by one shot but the next misses and spins out of the way. "Music."

The AI responds booting up a play list.

"Now its more like it. A high paced music kicks in and he's now comming around firing with the auto cannon again.

"Interesting Raven, let's see what you can do!"

"Syncing." Goes the AI voice. "Voice not recognized." The lean machine that /could/ be a NEXT is still as it watches the missiles fly towards it's intended target, releasing it's payload of directed shrapnel to what appeared like a direct hit. However, the enemy unit seems to barely even slow down.

"AI, calculate all Hostile Elements and point out potential threats." Goes the pilot, as the unit suddenly boosts /hard/ to the left, railgun slug kicking up sand into the air that turns to glass by the heavy boosters mounted on the unit's joints as it /propels/ forwards at impressive speeds, though, compared to a NEXT, it might fall short of the standard. But the unit's amazing agility makes up for that.

The crystallized-like voice of the pilot emits on all open frequencies, "Hatred is the poison that taints mind and soul, exiles men into battlefields-- leaving them to return home physically challenged and mentally derranged." It's voice sounds ominous, as the unit's shoulder mounted twin-barreled Hi Energy cannon powers up with a shot, as the unit changes directions suddenly, leaving molten glass in it's wake, cracking with pressure; And the rain continues to fall on the unit, like a curtain of droplets captured in eternity as lightning flashes and illuminates the unit-- the infernal red eye banishing darkness- and tainting it with blood red colors. "A fitting fate for one such as you."

And back in the times of the One Year War, certain voice recognition systems had a specific phrase for identifying themselves, which might help to pin-point where this pilot comes from, as it introduces itself.

"Anathema... I."

And than the twin-barreled cannon fires a thick blast of energy towards the Unsung, or at least, a bit to the side, hoping to hit it while it moves.

Things are going /smooth/. Holland isn't even taking it completely seriously. They've got loads of people just acting like it's just another mission. Hell, that's true isn't it? Pretty much another day in the life of a merc.

While they're busy pawing over the new NEXT that happens to be trying to murder them, Holland sees a real monster. Massive wings that are messily born from a fleshy and mechanical monster, which rises straight into the air.

"The hell is /that/?!" Holland musters before twisting the R909 upwards. The Terminus' board slices against it, ripping into the machine/monster as it gets caught. "Tch! Dammit!" The flying machine gets re-acquainted with the ground rather quickly, smashed hard against the earth, including the pilot.

The board sticks out from the ground before toppling over. It's damaged, but a board is meant to slam into things. It'll be alright.

The LFO isn't so much, sparking before it rises. "So that thing has a pilot?" Holland says out loud to himself, pulling the LFO slowly up, "Either your voice doesn't fit what you are, or that thing isn't just any monster!" Hands grasp for the board, pulling it up as the LFO backs up, wheels on the machine's feet squealing.

With a burst of acceleration forwards, the board is sent flying forwards, launched towards the mass of metal and flesh, to tear into it as it passes by. And probably just hit something else and stop.

The peppering of the machineguns is quickly dodged around by the invisible elemental, moving as little as it has to to avoid being spotted. And then the two take to the air. The elemental waits a few moments until they're slightly up in the air, before the elemental's own jump jets flare into life, shooting it up into the sky with a barely-visible flame on it's feet. The elemental shifts slightly, aiming for one of the jets, aiming specifically for one that is less directly being fired at by the panther.

And one of the jets just might notice it's left wing to be significantly heavier. A ton or two of metal and muscle-bound woman attempting to land there. And then a grappling claw reaches down to attempt to grab a bit of the metal from it... and flat-out tear it off, using it's strength to it's advantage to begin it's best fighting tactic.

Again, the Unsung's barrier crackles and pops in protest as the beam slams into the Unsung's primal armor. But it does not go quietly. A missile rips out of the unit's shoulder, hurdling through the air and colliding with the other NEXT far down below. Unfortunately, this time, the armor seems to be taking a short while to recouperate. "Oho," Thermidor mouths, "It seems that you have some skill, to be able to disable my armor so quickly."

"But you're sorely mistaken, my friend. Hatred has no place in my soul. I know only what must be done, and I go forth and do it. Were I a man who went to war driven by hatred, and fury against injustices, I would fight alongside Katharon. No, I know what must be done- and that is the only reason that I do so."

"So, knowing that," Thermidor says evenly, Unsung suddenly erupting into a blur of speed. Its shoulder mounted missiles slide open as several lock-ons paint his current target alight in blazing crimson, "I must say you are quite skilled, and your abilities are familiar. I will enjoy this, pilot. Whoever you might be."

The Raven's AC lands down, but before it can get the thrusters moving again, James has the chance to lay into him. The recoil of the bullets slamming into his machine, keep it from getting away, and the weapon even force releases the machine gun that Gabriel was attempting to use. It then flings back before landing into the mud.

The Lighting crashes into the ground in the distance behind lightning up the area, as that red optic flickers gently, before that right hand tightens.

Archangel glances over to where Thermidor is, over where everyone is, and that unknown machine which seem to be ripping into the Lynx pilot. "..what is that thing.. it can't be a.."

Wait.. did it say.. did he over-hear right..

"...tsk.. not getting paid enough for this."

Gabriel then raced toward James, the energy saber activated on its left arm, before swinging it down, trying to cut into James, machine, before looping around to attempt to snatch the machine gun.

Then it seems the Raven is moving to switch targets? By direction of heading, he is swinging over to help Thermidor.

-"Thermidor!"-

OH GOD OW PAIN.

The massive metal monkey mockery's monster mist masses on the Gundamfighter's chest, acidic agent eating through the Gundam's armor. Duo's hand goes to his chest as he doubles over, the Gundam doing the same, and he starts coughing as he feels the acid burning his lungs. It was getting hard to breathe; his chest was tight, his lungs closing. The trace suit was tightening around him - was this how it was for Gundam Fighters? Was this what Macua and them risked every time they went into battle?

Duo forces himself to suck in a breath as the monster declares its name. He pulls himself upwards, shifting his battle stance, and his eyes narrow with a corresponding gleam in the Gundam's green eyes.

"You don't think I'm scary, huh?" Duo declares through gritted teeth, "Well, I got news for you, buddy - you ain't got any idea just how *scary* I can be!"

The Gundam plants its heavy shield directly between the monster and itself. The shoulder verniers twist forward as the hidden thrusters in the shield light up; the Gundam plows forward, right at the Machine Beast's face, using its own weight to actually try and wrestle the monster down!

Juku was going to *murder* him.

The fighters scream by the Panther as it jumps, even as one of the fighters notices something extra on the Panther. The RIO of the lead craft shakes his head. "You have got to be kidding me. a human in a large power suit riding on the back of that mech? Someone's suicidal." It's right about then the panther turns towards their flight path. "HE'S FIRING! BREAK LEFT!" Two Fighters bank left, out of the panther's firing arc. The other four flying to their right, one of them literally barrel rolling with the weight of a half ton lump on it's wing. "Knight 6, I've got something on my wing!" "Scrape it off, Knight 6." "Knight 3, Let's give her a reason to get off your wing, 6. Fox 2!" That female Elemental had better get off the wing before the missile knocks her off....

 James Heller transmits, "The reaper mech's using a trace system. Treat it like a living thing to drive em off."

When the monsterious (yes... that's right) EVA/Gunmen hybrid finally gets close to the ground, dropping the LFO at that last moment whilst spreading its wings and dampening the amount of Gs on the pilot... Ascian is forced to recognize how nasty this machine can be on him. It almost feels like his entire guts are being pulled out or something, and he suddenly feels nauscious within the machine, as it takes that last dive and ends up being knocked slightly off-course by the board - being wielded so well by Holland.

The machine's legs buckle as it finally hits the ground, and kind of... sags. The arms go limp for a moment, just laying along its sides like useless pieces of flesh and armor, whilst the machine opens its mouth slowly - metalic teeth and flesh leaving behind a trail of what looks like saliva between the top of bottom as it is opened.

It then... begins to growl and groan. The voice of Ascian, within the machine, is warped beyond recognition, turned into nearly incomprehensible roars of high volume sound. Even his mere breathing has the machine growling - and what looks like 'steam' is coming out from the corner of its gigantic maw. The machine then shudders finally, its arms moving a bit along the ground, as the pilot inside pulls firmly once again on the metalic prongs and pushes his will into the machine.

"YOU DO NOT BELONG HERE." It seems that it can only 'shout', even though inside, Ascian is talking perfectly calmly. But it will be hard to even recognize those words. Especially as the sound of metal being caught by metal suddenly springs up between the two units as the monster smashes one arm with a wide arch against the incoming shield - pushing Holland's attack out of the way with /sheer force/.

Not waiting one moment more, Ascian suddenly calls out again - speakers in the mouth, which is moving along dutily like a living being. "RRAAAAAAAA!--" That was his breathing actually, "Take this!" The arm which had knocked Holland's attack out of the way suddenly forms what looks like a giant ball of green energy which is spinning in on itself, and looking suspiciously like a drill! And it is THAT ball of spiral energy that suddenly gets tossed right at the Trailer.

Missiles streak in at the VNC Violence and pepper the armor with explosions, sending shrapnel of armor pieces in all directions-- sending raindrops falling away from their trajectory imposed by the laws of gravity.

"Engage thermal dampeners. Put out fires. Correct trajectories." The pilot says as the unit explodes out from the cloud of smoke left by the missiles, cause the cloud to cave in by the sudden change of air pressure and lack of oxygen.

It's red eye burns brightly against the background of the dark clouds-- and it winks.. Once. And burns even more brightly, as if it has locked on to the Unsung. And it's head than swivels towards the approaching threat of Gabriel.

"Hostile Element inbound." Goes the AI voice once again.

"Excellent. Fire Javelins." The pilot says as suddenly several small missiles eject from the missile pack, heading for their designated targets. The Unsung and Gabriel.

"Assess battle damage." The pilot says before switching to open frequencies once again:

"War claims all- despite of crimes or history. You are guilty of participating-- Katharon is misguided."

The missiles aimed at the Unsung head for it's wings, while the other ones will try to home into Archangel's torso or arm joints.

James Heller is not fast enough this time the small machines' armor is impressive. IT doesn't crumple from the hit it's damage but the darn thing is intact somehowe. It pulls away and the he ramps off some terrial getting airborn he opens fire flipping. The machine tiests and then lands speeding off trying to get Archangel to follow him along.

He's still shooting too and calling out.

"Hey man you don't want to play? Come on dude, you came for a brawl and now yer running! What are the raven's comming to!"

The elemental does not let go of the wing. Even as it barrel rolls, the grappling claw digs deep into the armor again, this time to simply hold on while it barrel rolls. Meanwhile, the other arm lifts. The missile that fired at her gets a swift peppering of machinegun fire to shoot it out of the sky, as the stealth systems come into effect again, while the elemental begins to dig it's claws into the airship, attempting to make it's way towards the center of the ship.

And then it aims it's main guns towards the tail of the jet. Elena grins a bit inside of her elemental, her micro pulse laser charging. And then it begins to fire, sending several waves of shots towards the tail of the jet. Take out the tail, and it loses control. She begins searching for the next jet to leap to, in case this one goes down immediately.

JINDAI HIGH

"... that maybe we could see if we could auction off dinner with, like, Domon Kasshu or--or--hey--are you listenin'?"

"Uh..." Darcy thickly mumbles as the corners of her vision go red, "Uh-huh."

"... Well." A beat as Kimiko leans forward and dips her head to lock eyes with Darcy, hoping to nudge the other girl into raising her gaze by lifting her own. "Well! So, I know it's a /long/ shot, but..."

"Uh-huh..."

"... I know some of the Gundam Fighters do all kinds of public appearances, and..."

"Uh--uh-huh..."

"... maybe if we write him, he'll show! What do you think?"

Darcy doesn't reply. She doesn't even look at Kimiko; her eyes remain wide, focused on the table. Beneath it, her hands shake and clench; if she could leap across the table and strangle the other girl to shut her up with all of her blathering and her self-righteous pity and her--her school functionary /nonsense/, she would, but--but--but--

But she doesn't--really want to, does she?

It's /Virunga/ that's angry, isn't it?

Darcy sucks in a sharp breath; she doesn't close her eyes for fear of tipping the other girl off about something being unusual, but the dance is nonetheless the last thing she can focus on. The anger is natural--/good/, even; it just isn't hers. It isn't /for/ Kimiko. The teenager slowly exhales, and...

AUSTRALIA

... Virunga Q4 leaps into the Reaper's forward thrust, jaws spreading wide to give Duo a view of the seeming abyss that is its insides. The ground shakes where it lands, but far more worringly, it tries to snap its maw shut around the Reaper. Blood and oil and mist and strangely luminescent fluids all trickle down the Machine Beast's face, courtesy of the shield blow that preceded their little grappling match.

Not that there was a whole lot of grappling involved to begin with.

Or that it was much of an even match to pit the Gundam's strength against a blood-crazed beast from Bardos Island.

"Yeah I figured that one out when I took the job!" Doesn't seem like he'll be getting any of that bonus if things were going to keep up like they are! Metal on metal is the answer as the machine just swats the board out of the way. "Looks like that's not going to work." He comments to himself, raising the rifle on the left arm.

Meanwhile? The thing is breathing heavily at him, before a sphere of green energy starts coming right at him. "The hell?!" A drill of spiral energy pierces into the machine as the LFO fires back, strafing up until it's caught, the arm and machine bashed backward, sent skidding backwards as Holland fights to keep the LFO upright.

"Pretty stubborn."

The wheels on the feet spin, faster and faster, before the ground is finally caught, sending the LFO shooting forwards, two bladed boomerang like daggers held by one of the blades each. "But that'll just make it even!" The LFO's acceleration is momentary, but as it shoots towards the fleshy and metal machine it swings both, twisting as it passes to make it so.

The uneven ground is a good place to lift, but he's moving back towards the board he launched earlier. Maybe he needs to go skywards again. Staying on the ground might not be the best plan of attack after all.

 Ascian Luddite huffs in a tired manner. "Man... this thing... will be... the end of me one day..."

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "Damn... Earthen... gravity."

Jump Jets on a Panther are pretty amazing. Unfortunately, they are not a flight system that is sustained forever. Rather, they are very much like jumping for a very long time. Evantualy, it has to land. Gracefuly, if best possible. Morrison is certain the elemental can handle herself up there. At worse, she can surf on the damn jet. They can do that, right? Right. Meanwhile, he got a request on radi -- to come help against that other wheeled thing. Improved Jump Jets don't take all that long to recharge, giving Morrison a boost of speed to get into the way of the Gear's attack. Unfortunately, he miss by a few seconds. That's alright. James is his intended stop anyway. Which he misses, too. What might not miss are the plasma flames that trails against him as he forgot to stop squeezing the damn trigger so hard.

Archangel quickly swapped targets, even as James got a nice slice impact on his baby girl, Gabriel. The Raven founder quickly, flips the AC around 180, before giving James the birdie, -"I got bigger fish to fry, but I am sure I'll catch you on the flip side."-

"Warning: Incoming Missiles. Warning."

"Really now?"

Just as Gabriel came back around, here came the shots that were trying to impale the white AC. However with a quick slide to the side, leap into the air and a near flip, the Raven flew right over what should have been his impending doom.

Instead the mysterious NEXT got a few 'hello' bullets from his machine gun.

-"I heard about you, Anathema. Your suppose to be big and bad right?"- Archangel nearly chuckles, as those teal-blue eyes narrow. -"Show R what you got."- He says with a near purr.

Then Gabriel lets loose with the Machine gun with the bronze flying out the chamber.

Knight 6 was still trying his best to get the power armored goon off his wing, even if it meant barrel rolling into a blur, only to slow to nearly a stop as the elemental fires her laser. "GET THIS THING OFF ME!" "Hold steady 6, let's see if a laser knocks him from his roost. Incoming." The lead fighter slows down and fires a laser shot at the elemental, namely just to hit her and knock her off the wing.

In the meantime, whilst all of this is going on, the convoy is trying to make speed. The trucks, carrying the payloads, make quite a bit of speed... well... okay, they just maybe are going 5 miles an hour faster. They aren't exactly high on the end of 'quick' machines. The freighter Ascian had been on is flying low with them, keeping a check on them, and is keeping in radio contact.

The beast's chest heaves, like a human being, up and down as Ascian's breathing starts getting heavier. "DAMN EARTHEN GRAVITY." He complains over the radio, and that manges to get picked up by the speakers somehow. The jaw again moving. The machine takes a step forwards when the LFO comes rushing in, and spreads its wings slowly. It waves them once, causing a huge gust of air suddenly as it begins to lift off. Then one single more, unexpectedly, is all it takes for the machine to get high enough for it to get out of the way of the blades.

"FLY... FLY YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT!" But apparently this isn't enough for Ascian. He wants it to go higher. He wants it to go faster, further, to get better! The machine shudders for a moment, all the limbs hanging lip from its sides, as the wings begin to... grow!?

A spurt of green liquid suddenly jets out from its back - splashing into the ground and /hissing/ as it touches. Acid! Acid is coming from the biomechanical machine and spraying the landscape below - putting Holland in a dangerous position! And the wings? The wings are growing, pieces of metal flowing onto them from different sections of the machine, overshadowing the area beneath - making the green blobs of liquid harder to see.

Pew pew pew! The shots hit the elemental, and it does in fact let go of the jet, several bits of it's armor having issues...and then it's jump jets ignite again, flying high into the sky. Elena chuckles softly in her Elemental armor, her jump jets cutting, the elemental pilot expertly shifting itself so that it falls in a more controlled manner. "Keep moving." Her voice rings out briefly.

And she falls towards one of the jets, her stealthed elemental attempting to land on one of their backs, using the force of it's fall to attempt to dig it's claw deeply into the jet, aiming to attempt to damage some of the important systems of the Knight jet. Oh right. And there's a machinegun firing into the armor, if it successfully digs in.

"Missiles again?" Thermidor frowns a bit as the explosives slam, this time, directly into the Unsung's armor. Its left arm sizzles and pops as the sniper rifle's light dies down. "Effective, I suppose," its thrusters suddenly flare to life, roaring at top speed as the black machine rockets across the battlefield. Its shoulder-mounted cannon slides upward, unfolding ominously before settling into its ready configuration.

White-hot lightning stews outward from the weapon, sizzling in a silvery nimbus around the barrel. Unsung's body hurtles through the air, crimson and black blending together into a single streak. The weapon glows as its charge completes- indicated by the distinctly full bar on the Unsung's weapons readout. "My associate seems to insist that you're nothing more than an artificial intelligence. I would disagree."

His laugh dips into a dreadful, heart-quivering tone. The weapon shackled to its shoulder erupts in a sudden, furious glow as its capacitors discharge, sending a bolt of deadly exotic particles flying through the air- toward the enemy NEXT, "No machine could ever land a solid hit on me."

Having already experienced the intense pain of this monster across his chest *once*, Duo was in no mood to let those big-ass fangs come down. Admittedly, it was never an even fight; however, as the giant maw opens up, Duo's lips spread in a huge grin.

"CHEW ON THIS, UGLY!" He declares, stuffing the shield into the ape's teeth as he rolls to the side. Reaper straightens, adopting something of a makeshift battlestance, holding the scythe in both hands as a balancer as Duo shifts from foot to foot. The cocksure grin on his face is typical Duo; he's so certain he's in control, after that, even with the eaten-away chestpiece. So sure, so certain; it would be all too easy for him to screw up here.

He wasn't going to let that happen. Against a monster like this - a super robot monster, just like the kind Gai had been going on about - that meant he was at a serious disadvantage in the strength department. This was big, ugly, strong, and more powerful than he was by a mile.

But he was fast. And he was sharp. What was it Gai had said - something about Real robots? Well, it was time to introduce this big ugly ape to the power of the Real-type - with some aggressive kung fu action!

"Sorry, buddy!" Duo chirps as he starts running towards the monkey, "But I can't let somethin' like you take me out - my girlfriend'd *kill* me if that happened!" And Duo plants the scythe in the ground.

Like a pole vault, it sticks; the Gundam is swing forward, its sharp foot extended in a clear and present on-the-ground imitation of the infamous Char Kick, as Duo lets out a UAAAAAAA kiai worthy of of a Gundamfighter. Right for the head! But would it have any effect?

James Heller pauses as the Panther comes in and intercepts his attacks. A battlemech moving like that? It's got to be an ace of some sort. You don't hold still when your in a Hevy Gear. Doubly so when facing a walking slab of armor covered in energy weapons like a battlemechs. He opens a channel to his foe.

James face is is hidden by a yellow helmet with a blocky loower section and a pair of red eyed optic goggles.

"So a mechwarrior ace eh? You got a name?"

He's already firing the autocanon again now at Ted and pushing his machine as fast as he can go, given the amount of firepower he has? Also James' lack of an ejection system....

The Elemental barely, just barely, lands on the back of one of the fighters, who immediately begins it's own evasive maneuvers. "Knight 2. Seems I caught the little twit. Lucky me." "Knight 1. I got your six, 2." However, that fighter starts firing on Knight 2 as well, mostly to hit the elemental....

 Ascian Luddite transmits, "How are you guys holding up?"

The VNC Violence continues boosting forwards as the hail of incoming machine gun fire is met by a quick upwards leap and barrel roll on the /vertical axis/-- sending the machine flying towards the Unsung at ludicrous speeds. There's a flash of something, as the crystallized-like voice echoes out:

"All men shall fail-- all doubt shall be erased when blood joins the earth!"


 * SLICE*

Dual laser blades ignite at a eye-blink's time notice, and cleave through the air-- it's intended to hit Unsung's wings and debilitate the elegant form of the LYNX which wakes a minute ammount of envy within the pilot calling himself 'Anathema'.

"This is the price of war and none shall escape it."

Damn Earthen Gravity. The pilot isn't even used to the atmosphere he pilots in. That's a great outlook for Holland. Maybe he'll have to abandon the constant attempts to get in a quick shot to playing on that weakness. But the huge gust of air that comes as Holland moves in close is enough to knock off Holland's attempt. Nevermind that the machine flew into the /air/.

That pilot sure likes to hear himself talk. Faster, further upwards. Before the wings swell up, liquid launching off it's back and spraying the landscape where Holland happens to be. "/Shit/." Holland declares, fully deciding upon the flight choice over that of fight.

The LFO accelerates towards the board, grasping it as it passes, throwing it forwards before taking a leap onto it, riding it skywards, away from the hissing liquid that melts the ground and whatever might have lived in it. Nothing, now, will. Metal all over the damn things, too.

"You're just going to get harder to take down, won't you?" Holland muses, raising the laser rifle once more. Aimed towards the tips of the wings and the midsection of the beast, Holland lets lose, attempting to put some visible damage on the creature. Back into the air he rises with the board.

"Maybe if you didn't fight with your machine you'd have finished me off already!"

There is one thing about laser guided missiles. Laser guided missiles are hard to dodge. As her computer flashes, warning her of a lockon, she shifts to try and put one of her more armored sections of her armor to take the hit. She grimaces, her medical systems come online, injecting her with a slurry of medical and shock-suppressing fluids. But she just grins, her claw flexing a few times as she clings on the plane.

And then she shifts towards the engine of the jet, attempting to simply jab her grappling claw into the engine and attempt to damage, or destroy it with the powerful physical strike. "Go down, you Divine Crusader bastards." She says.

Archangel went ignored however the devastation could be felt and those eyes narrowed as the pupils went to near pin points for a moment as a smile creeped over his lips.

Termidor's unit was sliced into by this ..thing.. By his now enemy, by something he will remove.

"Hehehe.." The dirty blonde laughs gently as his machine slides around, before sliding back a bit in the mud. "..hehahaha.." He then breaks into a laugh.

-"..hahahah!! I don't care what you are, AI, cyborg, or human, I wlll cut you down where you stand!!"- Archangel yells out as that red optic of Gabriel's locks onto the NEXT like machine.

-"And if you are an AI,"- he laughs a bit, -"Then impacting that core~ wont hurt my conscious at all~"- He almost says sing songly.

The White AC's thrusters roared to life, but its foot stomped down to hold its position, then with a heavy whine started to come to life the overboost drive.

-"I am R,"- He said this time calmly.

The glow from the White AC started to become brighter as the back thrusters started to open up.

-"And you..."-

The Thrusters then fired and Gabriel raced for the NEXT like machine.

-"..will be a shadow."-

The moonlight activated in that last second and drive to try and piece the NEXT core, before attempting to slice it in half on passing.

The Autocannon rounds slams into the armor of the battlemech, rattling the pilot inside. Still, any machine of the Inner Sphere worthy of it's name would not be dettered by just one of this kind of onslaught. Despite the holes in the armor, the Panther veers around, hovering in mid air with it's jump jets. El Presidente's own face is blocked by an helmet. It's dark visored, but he can be heard clearly. "I don't know," Morrison answers rhetoricaly, "I probably got one, that would be pretty fancy of me. What about you, buddy? /You/ got a name? Or a serial number?" Morrison evidently don't intend to reveal his name right away. Why would he, anyway? That'd be kind of pointless(not to mention give to many leads pointing straight at him). Instead, the Light BattleMech let loss another volley of plasma gouts aimed at the Dark Jaguar.

Flying through debris and molten metal, the VNS Violence banks hard to the left, as it races into the Gabriel, shrapnel from the previous hit peppering the armor of the unit-- But the blades of the Gabriel strike too, but shallowly and deflected by angle.

"Your insanity is a weakness. You are a weakness." Comes the crystallized-like voice. "Death comes marching."

The twin-barreled cannon lights up against like a beacon charging energy from nearly point blank to the Gabriel.

"Death comes marching."

And then a electro-violet lance leaps from the cannon in electrical arcs and magnetized polarity- twisting with lethal forces vortexing the air around it.

AUSTRALIA

Virunga doesn't - can't? - protect itself from the Reaper; the Mobile Fighter's foot widens the rent in its already split cranium, offering Duo a very small peek at the pulsing, purple /thing/ that presumably passes for its brain.

Or one of its brains; surely, Dr. Hell knows as well as anyone the value of building redundancies into his Machine Beasts.

The Silverback from Hell reels backwards a ways, threatening to collapse and crush whatever is unlucky enough to be caught beneath its enormous shadow, but...

JINDAI HIGH

"I don't know who I'll ask--maybe Koji Kabuto!" Darcy shouts in answer to her lunchmate's query. Kimiko stares at her, mouth slightly ajar.

So does everyone else in the cafeteria; the junior's voice not only reverberates through the now quieting space, it echoes when it hits the walls.

"Wh--" Darcy slowly looks beyond Kimiko to the table staring from behind her... and the table to the left of that one, and the one to the left of it, and so on. Her mind is elsewhere; she didn't /mean/ to shout, but these things happen when one is trying to control a giant monster in the middle of lunch.

"Uh..."

Darcy sinks into her seat, wishing she could melt into a puddle and slither away to save herself the embarassment.

"S--so, uh..."

At least /now/, nobody will look at her any weirder than they already are if she zones out for a few seconds.

AUSTRALIA

... without warning, the monster steadies itself, even hurls its bodyweight forward to retake its upright posture; its arms swing loosely forward and back like thick, twisted pendulums until they lose their momentum.

JINDAI HIGH

"It--it's--uh--o--okay," Kimiko murmurs; all the while, she is peeking over her shoulders and trying to gauge the complex social dynamics revolving around her remaining here with this strange, loud girl or just fleeing.

Darcy, meanwhile, quickly taps at her phone and fights the urge to swipe her sleeve across her brow because she knows it'll come away with disgusting amounts of sweat.

AUSTRALIA

"She wouldn't have the chance," that female voice intones as Vironga slowly raises its arms. They come to a halt once they're sitting at a good ninety degree angle from the rest of its body. "But maybe she'll leave a few tears on your empty grave."

JINDAI HIGH

Cerulean lightning sparks across Darcy's consciousness; for a brief, awful moment she's even /more/ painfully, brutally aware of every eye on the cafeteria being glued to her.

AUSTRALIA

Vironga Q4's fists /explode/ from its wrists, becoming primal missiles rocketing across the outback. One hand opens, soaring well above the Reaper; the other remains on a course directly towards it in the hopes of throwing the Mobile Fighter off balance and leaving it vulnerable to be snatched from the sky by the other hand, which will zoom in from an eccentric angle to make its collection if it is able to.

If the Reaper is caught, it will be borne back to Vironga Q4.

And if it is borne back to Vironga Q4... the Machine Beast will be dining on Mobile Fighter after all; saliva and ichor and blood ooze slowly from the corners of its jaws as its fanged maw opens wide.

There's the problem with Elena's attack is one of linear thinking. The Cutlass type of fighter has four engines and two are out of her reach. Plus she's trying to take down one fighter in a squadron of six. However, the rest of the squadron is STILL trying to blast the elemental off of the fighter. "Guys, take it out. All wings, fire missiles." However, the pilots didn't realize how elementals were bred, not yet anyways. But, to them, at the moment, it was still a threat, made clear when the multitude of missiles are fired at the elemental.....

Not fight his own unit? Holland really needs to be careful with what he says, for the moment those words reach Ascian's ears, something kind of... clicks. The machine's mouth suddenly closes, and the wings envelop in a green glow, swirling around casually, flowing all throughout the entire unit. It seems to form a paperthin barrier, underneath which the armor plates seem to /move/ around, flowing towards the wings.

It flaps those wings again, and whilst still growling and roaring, the machine doesn't just fly up, it flies straight towards and over the FOS - like a gigantic dragon of sorts, doing a flyby. Or more like... some kind of fleshy-machine disgusting butterfly. Little remnants of acid flutter through the air as it gets out of the way of the shots, cleanly maneuvering around the shots of the laser rifle. It's somewhat amazing actually, how the large hulking machine can be so strangely fast. It's almost like its pilot is reading the path of his opponent's shots.

Its wings, that spirally energy, then finally seems to start taking shape. Indeed, the wings are suddenly looking like a butterfly's. As if there are two eyes of a storm, per wing, it has that look as if there are four gigantic eyes that have joined in the staring at Holland's Trapar riding mobile suit, and then suddenly...

"VORTEX HOWL!" Four sonic-like spirals of green energy blast from those four eyes. They weren't eyes! Those were attacks, charging! Inside of the machine, at the same time as the attack however, Ascian's eyes go somewhat dull, and he suddenly falls over forwards sometimes... as if that attack just /pulled/ his life's energy straight out of him.

The energy sabers collide and Gabriel spins around as the sparks fling off into the rainy, cold night air. That red optic stared down at the other unit. Archangel within gritting his teeth tight, even though a smirk keeps finding its way on his face in his anger. He listens to what the Anathema has to say before he just laughs gently, -"Oh really? That is news to me."-

Then Gabriel shut down the moonlight energy saber before raising the machine gun, even as the two barrels started to glow and the machine made its death comes marching statement, -"Haven't you heard, Ana-baby?"- The dirty blond grins, -"I'm already dead."- before he breaks into a laugh.

Then comes to blast just as the AC lets loose with bullets.

However one stands and the other is impacted by the massive blast, melting the armor, shoving the AC back, before toppling it over in the massive energy blast.

The water now boils under the heat of the metal, some of it hot red, almost molten by the energy blast. Steam rises into the cold air, even as the rain falls upon it slowly cooling the metal and the lightning cracks behind Anathema.

Evading while in the sky was difficult. Evading massive amounts missiles in the sky was even more difficult. Especially since she had to release the engine of the one that she struck. Leaping from the jet, however, wasn't quite the right move. The missiles end up hitting the elemental, and ... there's no sign of what happened to the Elemental. It's simply gone. But then it was stealthed, so it's difficult to tell if it was ever there. She really is just a ghost.

Don't mind the thud on the ground, and the stealthy escape of the Elemental, back to base for repairs.

He dances. He dances like he's never danced before; between the claws, between the fists, between the monster trying to get hold of his machine, he dances like a God of War, like the God of Death that he is, sliding back and forth. There are several very near scrapes; a very major one slams across his arm, and the circuitry feedback suddenly tightens as the arm is bent backwards at a horrible angle. The Reaper stumbles backwards; he nearly loses his footing, and it's only because he stumbles over a rock and falls with a *whud* that he survives the final swipe. Thrusters trigger in the shoulders, dragging him away from the monkey; he grits his teeth and groans as he feels rocks dig into his back, a trench spreading where the Gundamfighter flies.

All around him, Trailers are losing. Falling. Failing. This is supposed to be an easy mission; it was supposed to be simple. It was just a grab-and-go from the Divine Crusaders, but now...now it's turned into a masscare.

And the God of Death won't have it anymore.

Something, somewhere, deep inside his chest, his heartbeat starts to quicken. He can feel it - THUD THUD, THUD THUD, THUD THUD, THUD THUD - that fear, that deep-rooted fear not for his own life, for Duo Maxwell had long since abandoned his own life to the whim of the nonexistant God the world prayed to - no.

Duo's fear was for those he cared about - his friends, his family, his loved ones. His fear was a fear driven into him over years and years and years; a fear that he was ill luck, that he was a harbinger of destruction. It was the true reason for the name of the God of Death; he was a reaper who brought sorrow to his loved ones.

No. No! He wouldn't allow it. Not this time.

THud-thud. Thud-Thud.

"THAT DOES IT!" Duo roars, pulling himself to his feet on his scythe, his free hand dangling uselessly at his side. The Reaper Gundam rises, eyes lighting up with a terrible green glow as Duo makes his proclomation. "I'M SICK AN' TIRED OF THIS SHIT!"

His hand snaps outward, slamming on the console; a warning light goes off, the words LIMITER DISABLE shining across the screen. He knew that this was dangerous; this was one of the things he was never supposed to do, because he wasn't a Gundamfighter. Howard had explained it very carefully - this was a weapon that worked off of his own body, and if he wasn't strong enough, it could kill him.

"REAPER GUNDAM, RESTRAINTS DISABLED! PERSONAL RISK OK!" Duo calls, "COMMAND COEDE 10-21-11-21!"

LIMITER DISABLED, the Gundam tells him in no uncertain words, spelled out across his screen helpfully, RISK OK. PROBABILITY OF INJURY: 80%. PROBABILITY OF DEATH: 40%.

"Fourty percent...heh...HAHAHAHA!" Duo laughs, his free (and disabled) Hand going to his face. "You think it's that high, huh? Well I got news for you...God ain't done makin' me suffer just yet. SO JUS' SIT BACK AN' WATCH, REAPER GUNDAM!"

"TH' GOD OF DEATH'S GONNA SHOW YOU THAT THAT 40% IS a 100% - 100% FER HIS ENEMIES! HERE I GO!"

The scythe spins above his head. It's so light; so light, it feels like nothing. It whirls like the blade of a helicopter as Reaper Gundam starts running; the whistling sound is the wind of destruction. The flames lick its shoulders as it lifts off from the ground, and the scythe swings to the side as Duo forces his arm to function again, forces the broken arm to work to his advantage as the weight of the metal scythe and the speed of the Gundam are one. It's like watching an old-style Samurai duel, where one Samurai goes through maybe ten men; the Gundam is a blur of motion, black and red and silver, flames licking from its scythe's stylized dragon head as it roars across the battlefield. It roars through the planes; it roars past the Anathema; it roars past the Warrior Beast, and it roars past the Machine Beast, a single solid blur of death and destruction.

"Yer sentence has been decided!" Duo declares as he lands on the other side, making a two-fingered motion in front of his face as shadows hide his eyes, leaving only the maniac grin of the Grim Reaper. "An' it's EXECUTION!"

The Gundam skids to a halt. Did he do it...?

The squadron circles around as the Elemental lands with a thud and disappears. The Squadron then resumes formation and starts to climb back up into the sky......way up into the sky. "What the hell was that Knight lead?" "you know better than to curse on channel, Knight 6. However, lets get the black boxes back to Seraphim Command to analyze. The Eggheads might be able to figure it out." Igniting all four engines upon all of the fighters, they fly towards a rather large object in orbit.......

The wings envelop in it's green glow, the swirling flowing energy swelling around beast like machine. Armorplates just happen to attach themselves all over that creature. It'll go down harder, obviously. Flying up and above the LFO, that odd machine begins to butterfly about, far stronger than it obviously presented before.

It looks bad. But of course it does. If it was easy, Holland wouldn't need the rest of his crew. Hell, he wouldn't have needed to drag everyone else into these things.

"Guess you're not as worthless as you looked earlier!" Holland states, despite being the one on the losing side of the fight. Spiralling energy once more coelesces about the machine, tipping Holland off. It's not the best tip - but it's a tip. He'll /take it/.

The four sonic-like spirals blast out from the eyes, "So that's what it was about." But it's not away from it that the LFO moves. Diving in, towards the machine, the surfboard leads. It ducks, twisting away from the cone of one of the twisters of energy, diving between two of them, coming around one and then the fourth. Staying so close to the funnels damages the LFO, but Holland's focused on something else. The stylized dragon head that blurs towards the machine beasts presents a problem. Holland's in the way.

"/Perfect/."

The LFO twists upside down, riding the blur's energy for a moment, kicking off at the end to slam into the machine beast and wrench the board upwards. A singler boomerang dagger slammed into the side before he rides it all around the machine, carving it like a potato.

Hey, he can't be outshined by a kid in risking his life!

"Perhaps, that may be," Thermidor's chuckle darkens as the NEXT's blades slice through its left arm. The limb flashes momentarily before, severed from the core unit, its rail cannon suddenly glows white hot and explodes. The black machine is sent spiralling through the air, though the pilot does not seem concerned. After a moment, it lands, kneeling and on the ground for the first time in this engagement.

"Though, for someone who seems to be so against war and hatred, you seem to hate war quite a bit, don't you, friend?" The Unsung quivers as it begins to stand. A sheath of inch-thick steel shutters close over its optics as ports in its armor slide open. A distinct 'thrum' mixes into the sound of nearby conflict, "A shame it is so misguided, or I may have found a use for you. Perhaps you should go speak to Katharon- they seem to share your flawed vision."

"So long as man exists," Thermidor rumbles, "So too shall war. So long as man is not united under a single banner, under one ideology, we will never know peace amongst ourselves."

"The price of the individual is war. But the conflicts that set us apart also unite us. We are who we are, and we cannot hope to change that. There will /always/ be war, and we must accept that."

"Your cause is fruitless, your vision flawed, so long as you believe that the flames of war are something we can quash without obliterating what makes us /human./" The bubble of force suddenly begins to build, glowing green, then white hot, "All that we can possibly do is to eradicate those who would fan the flames of conflict and who would /use/ man's desire for their own gain."

It lifts off the ground as the wreath of Kojima particles suddenly flares to life.

"The cause I fight for, the name that I carry, the title my chariot wears- we are Unsung. Think on that name," the machine's thrusters suddenly flare, propelling it at inhuman speeds, toward the machine that had severed its arm. As it approaches, the barrier suddenly /flashes./ Quantum madness spills outward as it detonates, rupturing like a supernova and scorching the earth beneath the battered black frame.

"Think on that," Thermidor gruns, turning his machine skyward, back toward its home in the heavens, "Until we meet again- unless you disappoint me by dying before then."

James Heller says, "James Heller." The Heavy Gear isn't fast enough this time but the armor it has does a good job protecting it. He's not dead but the plasma fire melts way globs of the machine as it. He laughs over the comm. "Not bad but this baby is too valuable to lose, looks like you won this one Panther!"

He turns and floors it, also moving in a zig zag pattern. Heller's running and admitting he lost too.

In this momentary trance-like state, it almost seems like Ascian's senses are enhanced. When Duo's machine comes rushing for him, from the corner of his eye, that quick glint is enough to set him off and the unit's right arm suddenly comes up - fully plated with armor, and forces the scythe out of the way whilst it moves towards the opposite direction - then suddenly launches a series of missiles hidden in its chest that impact at point-blank range.

The Beast goes reeling for a moment, and that's where the young man suddenly gets a wakeup call. His momentary tunnelvision, so focussed on the sudden new arrival who had so aptly blurred itself and moved at incredible speed, he misses the fact that within that same blurr, and behind the red and smoke of exploding missiles, Holland had hidden an attack of his own.

The board, and the weapon, come smashing into the side of its torso, ripping underneath some of the armor plating, and then cuts OUT a good and huge chunk of the machine! Ascian can see at his side when suddenly the left walls of his cockpit turns entirely BLACK. The sensors entirely destroyed. He was blind on one side now! Tactically speaking.

He had to hurry this. He had to finish this. The machine staggers, its wings no longer waving as calmly, but rather... shuddering and trembling, as if The Beast had suddenly turned heavier. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The gunmen/EVA hybrid suddenly roars. But this time, Ascian is really roaring inside of that cockpit. Its mouth opens... and opens... and gets bigger!? And it suddenly flails towards his opponent, trying to grapple it, and CHOMP its head and the rest of the TOP entirely off. OM NOM NOM NOM!

AUSTRALIA

It's like watching an old-style Samurai duel, where one Samurai goes through maybe ten men.

And one great ape sharing its consciousness with a young woman who senses the world in a way that few ever get to.

JINDAI HIGH

"What--what I meant was, uh--"

"No, I--I understand, he's..."

"He's really weird looking, and you just caught me off-guard, okay?" Darcy quickly says in the hopes of putting an end to the discussion. Her eyes are still turned way down; she can't bear to face Kimiko with her awkward pity or the lunch room at large.

AUSTRALIA

As the Reaper puts a stop to its momentum, Vironga Q4 becomes an explosive /blur/ of motion, leaping through the sky with its knees tucked in close to its chest. Through its circuitry, its mistress could feel it when the Gundam and its pilot were about to halt themselves; catching the pair by surprise is, thus, easier than it might be for another.

/Landing/ there with the Gundam beneath its feet, though, that may be more difficult.

Morrison is a little surprised that this James Heller went into full retreat after one gout of plasma. That's always kind of surprising just how amazing that little weapon can be when properly aimed. "That's right," Ted mutters, throwing the Panther into an halt, pointing the Heavy Gear away. "Just get the hell out!" He could be satisfied with that, just back off, pick off some stragglers, hell destroy that Monster Duo is dealing with. He trust in the kid, though. If he can do that much damage on a wide scale like that, he can handle the Horror of Dunwich--I mean Australia. Instead, there is someone else that just begs to be taken care of. Ted tried to stay out of the politics in the Trailers, but this is just too much of an opportunity. Jack-o. Ted knows that kind. It's going to cause problem if he's not taken care of. That other Armored Core and R sure didn't managed to take it down. It might be up to him, in his usual way. Not giving the Heavy Gear a second look, the BattleMech speeds toward the VNS Violence, leaping over one of the trucks of the convoy, speeding toward the machine through kicked up dust and rocks. "HEY, JACKASS!" Ted Morrison shouts through the radio, throwing the Panther to the ground, keeping the improved jump jets tilting at full power, effectively sliding the normaly not so nimble machine into a slide to ensare the Violence with his legs. Not in time to save the Archangel and Thermidor, but it's something. "Surprise." The Tiegart Plasma Rifle is a strange weapon. It is a mixture bettewn a long-range energy discharge weapon as well as a flame thrower. At long range, it is a devastating weapon. At close, aimed upward, it is a 29st Century Purple Roman Candle.

The fallen frame of the Archangels Armored Core isn't going to be left for the Divine Crusaders. According to Holland's orders, the R606 and R707 leave a twin set of lines, crossing each other over and over as they close the gap. Cables held in both of the hands of each Terminus, meant to connect and tow the machines back as they pass over.

Why Two? There's Archangel, and then there just /might/ be Holland.

Trembling as it was, Holland could see just how /badly/ the machine wanted to take him out. To finish it. Perhaps it was it's movements. Perhaps it was the sudden //roar// from the machine. Perhaps it's the sudden growth spurt that centered around devouring both Terminus and pilot with a single heavy bite.

Limbs flail towards the board and the rider, but the grasp isn't concise enough. Holland pulls up over the first flail, twisting the board to once again ride upside down, looping back towards the ground as it flails once more.

The laser rifle clad arm is raised to take a pot shot of the beast from below, scattering the bottom of the beast with particularly placed shots. The legs, particularly the parts that could stomp him flat, are what is shot at to hopefully take that idea out of the equation.

"Almost food..." Holland realizes. He came here to /afford/ food.

Anathema boosts forwards after blasting the Gabriel--

"ALL HOSTILE ELEMENTS ELIMINATED"

The AI voice rings within the cockpit just as a flash of something off the corner of his eyes catches the Anathema's attention. The VNC Violence ducks down, kicking up sand as it lithely slides and skids out of the massive scythe trying to decapitate the unit and turn it into scrap; Just as more sand is kicked up and turned into glass- and raindrops evaporated-- and lightning flashes breaking against the darkness of the Violence-- it's true name starts to make sense. The Violence. A horrifying unit that stood the test of wars-- and endured.

The pilot is calm as he hears Maximilian's faint voice. Like metal scraping against his skin-- it irritates, but it makes his cause feel real. Like sanity grating against his mind.

"War is but a excuse, friend." Yes, the pilot calls his enemy now a 'friend' as he charges to meet the Unsung in one last clash- laser blade engaging.

"Low Energy. Abort. Abort."

But Jack-O doesn't listen. "The Anathema will never perish-- as you won't either." And then the laser blade misses it's intended target as the Kojima particles explode across the unit-- sending sparks and molten metal flying.

It seems both will leave to meet in battle again. Or will they.

One last glance is cast to the fallen Gabriel and then to the Reaper Gundam.

"There is no more glory here." The crystallized-like voice speaks as it's boosters kick up starting to retreat slowly--

And then, like out of the blue, there's a mechwarrior machine right /THERE/-

"Incoming"

The flamethrower just /nicks/ the nimble VNC Violence across the torso as the deadly lance of the plasma rifle hovers up into the sky- piercing the clouds as lightning flashes.

Static leaps across the Violence's chest as it swivels,-- the twin-barrel charges, glows-- but then whines and fades.

"Energy Zero-- Cooling System not responding."

The Anathema continues blasting on it's trajectory in this crippled state-- though, the pilot thinks he can make it far away enough-- and fast enough-- to avoid pursuit.

"Maybe I was wrong." The crystallized-like voice says, possibly speaking to Ted. "I applaud you-- please recover the pilot of that white AC. We are not done yet."

The black and bloody red unit is smaller and smaller in the distance, until it is gone.

Oh God, ow! If he thought it hurt before, the missiles in his back now that the limiters were disabled hurt twice as bad - even the tiny jabs he could feel digging into his skin, triggering their circuitry warnings, pain shooting up and down his spine. Oh, god, that hurt so much, so much, so much pain running through his skin, it was like someone had applied an electrical shock to his nervous system. When the monkey comes in swinging, Duo barely has enough of a state of mind to roll out of the way, but roll he does, as the well-trained part of the back of his mind kicks in and sends him jumping out of the way through sheer reflex. The explosion of dust is avoided just in time; the Reaper leans against its scythe as Duo attempts to catch his breath.

One good shot was probably going to shatter one of his bones.

One good shot was probably going to *remove* one of his bones, and shatter the ones around it. He wasn't in the kind of shape Macua was (neither the bouncy sort of shape nor the *Gundamfighter* kind of shape), and this was rapidly becoming a mistake. But until the fight was over, he couldn't trigger a disengage....which meant he needed to end this now.

Duo pulls himself to his feet. He looks right at the monkey, raising the scythe from the ground as he sucks in a deep breath. "I thought I told you..."

"I declared yer sentence already." His voice is flat, cold, so very different from the man he had been a moment ago. The scythe is shouldered across his back like a great sword as he walks slowly towards the ape, the Gundam Reaper's green eyes shining bright in front of him. "I told you what was gonna happen t'you. Yer jus' prolongin' th' inevitable. So I'm gonna do you a favor, an' help you hurry up t'yer grave...okay?"

Duo takes another stance as he swings the scythe once in front of him, as if testing its weight. There's a second swing, then a third; the blade whistles with each slice, flashing at each cut. "Yer sentence is Execution...an' once th' God of Death has declared yer life is over, it's over. Stay still, an' I'll hasten you as painless as I can."

Wait, where did-

ABOVE!

Gundam Reaper is suddenly falling from the sky, in a leap that was too fast to track and too high to judge. The sunlight is behind it; it catches off the metal of the scythe as it falls and shines right down into the monster's eyes, the only respite from the glare of light being the shadow of the Reaper itself. And it falls, falls, falls, in an inverse of the monkey's own tactic, and the blade comes down. But it does not end there; another cut, another slice, drawing upwards, and the Gundam's already gone, bringing the blade around in a full arc towards the monkey's chest. The final blow, the scythe hooks around the monkey's neck, and Duo's eyes light up as his laugh becomes downright maniacally horrible.

"MY JUDGEMENT CAN'T EVER BE REPEALED! GO ON NOW - T'YER DATE WITH YER MAKER!"

Those paying careful attention might have noticed that Duo's slices took a very specific form...the form of a very particular kanji, charted out unconsciously by the young man's own muscle memory, a kanji he associates with stronger than any other....

##                       ###       ##               ##              #       ##   #  #####                ##             ##     ##   ####                    ##              ##    ##   ##                                      ##    ##   ##                     #                ## ####### ##               ########                     ##   ##    ##               #                      ##   #########              #      #               ##   ##  ##                 #      ###             ##   ##  ##             ##  ##     ##        ##    ###  ##  ##             ##  # #  ##          ## #####   ##  ##             ##  # # #            ##  # ##   ##  ##            ##   #  #             ##    ##   ##  ##            ##   #  ##            ##    ##   #   ##           ##    #   ##           ##    ##  ##   ##           ##    #    ##          ##  ####  #    ##          ##     #     ###        ##   ##  #     ##         ##      #      #####     ##                       ##       #       ###     ## #                            ####              ##     ##############              ##              #

DEATH

The machine spins, bringing its wings close to itself, and does... a barrel roll. That's right, the shots go wide as it barrel-rolls towards the ground, making small shifts in direction -- following Holland's mech. Faster and faster it dives, until the Terminus type R909 no longer is firing lasers at it...

Then the wings open partially, flatter along its back, and suddenly makes it look like a gigantic mantle fluttering in the air. Its eyes darken, flash once or twice in furious red, as the roar grows louder. The teeth push out from the mouth - becoming like a series of gigantic swords... saliva seems to drip between them, drool flushing into the air as the wind picks it up like a little plaything.

Its arms reach forwards, the hands becoming slowly more like claws as pieces of armor shift forwards along the flesh, the muscles bulging and contracting, sometimes exploding like they were superheated, then reforming. It looks /disgusting/ in a way. Is this... the reflection of Ascian's mind?

Within the machine, Ascian is looking at but one thing. Holland's machine. He wants to get rid of it. To take it out. And with as much violence as possible. "STOP HINDERING THE DIVINE CRUSADERS! WITHOUT THESE WARHEADS, MARS WILL BE LOST TO THE FASCISM OF THE EARTH FEDERATION!" He bellows, the machine roaring, its head shaking left and right as it doesn't even move the mouth up and down again.

The legs come forward too now, bottom legs bending forwards as if there were no knee plates - ankles entirely ignored. Claws grabbing for the LFO, mouth biting for Holland. This was the man's last chance to get away! If he didn't... food indeed.

The arms reach forwards as Holland goes around, pulling lower - but it's the way the machine reforms, bulging and contracting that makes it deceptively hard to manuever the LFO away from the machine. He's just trying to keep out of range. "Yeah? Well I'm not interested in hearing what you might do with them!"

As the machine came down upon the LFO, Holland can't pull it away fast enough. "Dammit! If he gets the block!" He curses underneath his breath. The teeth are too close for comfort.

One of the arms shoots out, straight into the creatures mouth. It's a sacrfice play. The arm is bitten down onto, the machine tearing it free, the machine 'bleeding' a rather darkish color free. The right arm is torn off, but the LFO manages to escape.

The LFO rockets away, unsteady. Holland almost had it. But he's ... a little more rusty than he thought. "Tch. This thing's never going to be repaired by then." He curses again under his breath. Sure, he didn't die.

But that's not a goddamn problem to him. It's coming back a failure.

"Shit...." The Terminus R6/7/90/6/7/9 fly away in formation, pulling away from the area of the combat operation.

JINDAI HIGH

"... probably have to do some kind of fund-raiser, or something, like a bake sale, or a car wash, or--"

"I--I have to go," Darcy mumbles, cutting Kimiko clean off. She doesn't wait to be stopped, she doesn't hesitate on account of the eyes on her, she just gets up, grabs her bag and briskly walks from the lunch room. Along the way, she clasps her hands tightly to her chest; it feels like someone's just ripped out her heart and the place where it should be throbs painfully and without end.

She also feels as if she's escaping her own personal habitat at the zoo, and indeed quite a few of her fellow students are watching her all the way out.

When she's gone, Kimiko exhales a quiet sigh of relief.

"God," the senior whispers to herself as she lifts her chopsticks to snatch a piece of long forgotten eel, "she is /weird/."

AUSTRALIA

Jiggling meat, sparking circuitry, scorched metal and burst organs all slide apart from what was the center of Vironga Q4's mass, spraying smoke and blood and corrosive mist and ichor every which way as it splatters and crashes into the ground.

The curious Machine Beast bellows its dying wrath until it no longer can.

Final Battle - Conditions: Destroy Beast Machine Mission Victory: 10,000 credits Free Drinks Free Repairs Free Drinks Mission Failure: Your Pride

Morrison, unfortunately, didn't hear everything Jack-O has uttered. Slamming every weapons you have and keeping a Plasma Rifle heated up for long period. Alarms of overheating slams into Ted's headset, making him swear loudly to even further drown out whatever he could hear. He DO hear some small pieces, however. Nothing conclusive that he'll pay much attention to for the right moment. No, what matters now is that while the AC has retreated, there is one person that didn't. Ascian. Or rather, that big ass beast that look pretty crazy and disgusting. It might be a good idea to make it run away. It would be pretty damn neat. Struggling to get back up, Morrison slams in the jets, ignoring the warnings and flies up at the towering beast. Good freaking lord, that thing is huge. He kinda want a robot that huge. "HEY BUDDY!" Morrison shouts, getting straight in the Warrior Beast EVA's face, brandishing the plasma rifle straight ahead. "'Sup." INCOMING PLASMA DEATH IMMINENT.

When Ascian kind of... comes to... he realizes suddenly that he's rather... alone. The convoy is off in the distance, and have driven into a nearby Divine Crusader secret base mountain that. The warheads are secured, and will surely server Mars, and the Divine Crusaders, well. After all - a lot of their resources were currently focussed on that particular red planet.

When he realizes finally that the machine is holding the leftover arm of the LFO... and there is some kind of blood like stuff coming out, he just... blinks. His focus on the world in front of him is barely there. It isn't that he can't focus his eyes, he has perfect vision. He just suddenly feels like he is... not quite connected to the world anymore. Like everything is distant. Even those metal controls he is holding on to just... he feels them... but they barely register.

And it is that kind of 'mood' that causes the machine to simply get blasted straight in the head, when Morrison fires his plasma rifle at the machine. Flesh singes, metal tears, and one of its six eyes suddenly bursts into a reddish goo that quickly cakes black against the armor. The machine stumbles. Its wings, or mantle, suddenly retreats into its body and the machine kind of just... stands there, dumbfounded - looking at the Panther.

Its eyes flicker, body has turned into its normal size, but the Jaw is hanging slack. In fact, it is barely holding on at all - by the left side. Then, lazily, it takes one step forwards. One lazy step that seems to send a shock throughout the entire unit.

Then...

It begins to run.

A freighter ship, the one which had been following the convoy, begins to approach at the same time, and is lowering a large harnass of sorts. It looks like... they are planning on catching the unit? That's right! The EVA/Gunmen hybrid runs and runs, straight at Morrison's unit. Radio chatter is all over the place, people telling Ascian to retreat! That the mission was a success. But the youth doesn't respond. Drool somewhat coming out of his mouth, eyes now truly out of focus, and his body slumped forwards.

The arms of the machine hang slack as the machine runs, and gets tangled into the Harness. The freighter quickly has to pull up, as it gets pulled on severely. It almost crashes into the ground as the beast keeps going. Hot air blasting from the sides of its mouth, jaw wiggling under the pressure as finally its right arm turns into a gigantic claw - of drills! Its palm grows huge, then the fingers are drills - which swing directly at the Panther - swiping once before the Freighter finally gains control, and the unit lifts off into the air - swinging the beast by a long rope underneath...

The problem with fighting terrible berserk beasts, is that they tend to be, well, beserking. A sane man would probably have just flew away. A sane man that is normaly Ted Morrison. But he was feeling pretty good from having immolated some dude totaly out of the blue, plus blasted ANOTHER dude before that in a strangely familiar mech -- then hurling more plasma in the face of a beast machine thing. "OH YEAH!?" Morrison shouts at the rampaging drills, floating back then charging right back in, a large fist of the Panther drawn. "BRING IT OOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!" Unfortunately, the harsh reality slaps him in the face as the drills digs into the fist, destroying the entire arm right through all the way to the socket. Warnings flares in the cockpit about that. Okay. Okay. "Uuuuh." Ted, suddenly devoid of hot blood, backs the hell off by firing missiles, several SRM, at the Machine Beast. It get intercepted by it's OWN missiles, but in the end, it gets away. Leaving Morrison in a wasteland of a battle, with the convoy kinda far, and lots of fallen people. Great, what a profit this mission turned out to be.