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  1. Earlier
  2. Yes that database was corrupted. This was restored from an earlier backup.
  3. Good to have you back!
  4. Is there any way to see content post 2007, I was a member then and was active at that time with hundreds of posts. Are they all gone? my account is gone, posts, characters.
  5. I was an old member, Janus pulled me in ages ago. I was emo and broken and whatnot. Turns out I foudn this place looking for some old art of an underwater Astray I made ages ago.
  6. I have no idea if this place is active, but I was a member here over 10 years ago. I left when the site went down. But here I am again. I tried to find my old account, but it doesn't exist anymore.
  7. Welcome to Advent Destiny. Please feel free to browse around and get to know the others. If you have any questions please don't hesitate to ask.

  8. (OOC: I had been working on this before things kinda fell apart here. In any case it felt a shame not to finish it and to not put it up here. For the same reasons I’m not going to really proof read it all that much. Hopefully someone will enjoy it.) Location: <redacted> Date: <redacted> Operation: Brook Fall (Identified from Zeon intelligence post One Year War) It seemed unavoidable, the shivering. It was a necessary sacrifice to maintain any possible element of surprise they might have however. Lieutenant Benjamin Grimsdottir sat huddled in an oversized trench coat and rubbed his leather gloves together eagerly. He keyed his microphone, “status update?” His communication line was a buried hardwire and he wasn’t afraid of it being intercepted. “We have confirmed movement from the valley LT, looks like they’re taking scenario A.” Grim grinned “Very good, make sure to keep surveillance sharp, don’t neglect anything, remain vigilant, keep your heads on a swivel.” “Roger that LT!” They had prepared for this, every conceivable precaution had been taken, all that was left was executing their plans. When Grim had been given this assignment he initially resented it. However, he soon embraced the mundane challenge and decided that he would be the best guard that this particular bunker had seen. He spent a week analyzing the terrain, figuring out possible breaches on their location. The approach by the valley seemed the most logical given that the rest of their position was surrounded by mountains; that’s not to say the zeeks wouldn’t try that too. At dusk the guardwatch reported seeing shooting stars leading to the direction of the valley entrance. Not one to take chances, Grim set some scouts ahead in light vehicles. Sure enough a team of zeeks we’re setting up to march down the valley to their location. “4 GMs and they expect me to hold a base on my own with only 4…” Grim muttered to himself. He rubbed his hands and repositioned his grip on his tiny lantern. The dull light cascaded into his compartment and drew long shadows from the dormant switches in front of him. The lieutenant tried wiggling his toes to make sure that he could still feel them. This would be the most stressful part, waiting in the cold and seeing if his crazy plan would actually work. Minutes turned into hours and sure enough the Zeeks soon arrived. The first notion of trouble was the slight vibration Ben could feel. Although the LT was shivering, the suddenly shuddering of his cockpit told him that it was more than just his body. He looked around cautiously at the dormant controls to make sure he wasn’t making phantoms in his head when a crackle on his headset confirmed his suspicions. “LT! Movement near your ridge, have a Zeek heading towards your line of sight, counting 10 repeat 10 tangos all in the valley.” “Affirmative overwatch. Setting up position, ready to be my eyes?” “Roger that LT! We are go!” Grim reluctantly uncurled from his ball in the crooked seat of the GM and began strapping himself in. His fingers shook not from the cold but from excitement of pre-battle now. He paused after strapping in and carefully considered the start up sequence of the GM. They had spent some time rewiring parts of the arm to boot up independently and with a low draw on power. Of course they tested out the sequence and of course it worked but reality often made practice seem inadequate. Still Grim slowly and deliberately toggled the switches and poised his hands over the controls for the right arm. “I’m ready overwatch, how's the show?” There was a slight pause which unnerved him and he wondered if the line had been trampled on. Finally, “LT, we got half the tangos past the skirmish line. Four units are taking the trail.” “Roger that overwatch, confirm when last two have taken the trail, countdown at 60.” “Affirmative LT, countdown at 60.” Grim closed his eyes trying to imagine the footage outside of his darkened cockpit. He could imagine the Zakus milling down the valley in scattered groups. “60” The voice from overwatch broke his concentration and he tensed both his arms over the controls. It was going to be tricky, if he didn’t complete the startup sequence quickly he would pay dearly for his gambit. “50. 40. 30.” He could practically see his heartbeat in his vision as he tried to breathe calmly. Slowly he curled his finger over the controls for the trigger. “10. 9. 8.” “This is it!” He yelled to himself. Snapping his body into the moment he tensed his fingers over the smooth plastic of the controls. “3. 2. 1. Mark!” Grim squeezed the trigger, the GM’s cockpit muffled the loud rapport of the machine gun emptying its magazine. Outside, a white GM was buried in a shallow pile of snow in a dense outline of tall conifer trees. The right arm had been poised on a pile of boulders from the nearby ridge and meticulously aimed at a so call “game trail” their squad had carved from the valley towards the base. As the GM fired off the rounds the snow melted around the weapon and the recoil bumped the de powered arm up widley. Even as the magazine emptied its contents Grim moved quickly to boot up the GM. He had insisted on digging his unit in to ambush the predicted enemy advance. The gamble was keeping the unit powered off and buried just deep enough to hide but shallow enough to pop out easily. Of course he had to keep the GM powered off too to avoid giving away a heat signature, hence rigging the arm to fire the rifle with low power and having the weapon pre aimed. As the GM woke from its frozen slumber it began to immediately fire its thrusters and gain its footing. As the snow flew from the visor of the GM Grim could see the carnage his trap had set. One zaku was on the ground bleeding smoke and fire and another behind it was tumbling into the trees beside it, explosions toppling it. Grim hardly had time to celebrate as he swapped magazines on the gun. Two more zakus further down the trail in front of him turned around in bewilderment. There was a slight pause as everyone acknowledged that things were out of place and then all hell broke loose. “All units commence counter attack!” Grim yelled into his microphone. Grim worked the controls to start charging at the two zeeks in front of him. A pink beam shot out from the base and made quick work of the zaku furthest from Grim’s GM. The shot was from one of his other mobile suits and was equipped with the only beam rifle. Ben had ordered that particular unit to remain behind to act as sniper and had given it special instructions should the battle get out of hand. The remaining Zeek in front of him paused as it drew its heathawk out and turned to consider its’ sniped comrade. The pause it stole was too much though as Grim unloaded half a clip into the belly of the monster. Four units down with six left to go. Grim’s plan had just taken out the entire rear guard of the advancing enemy forces and the remaining zeeks were at the foot of the ridge mixed in the edge of the forest that approached the base. “Unit two! Unit three! Approach the forest and proceed with the counter attack. Unit four maintain your current position as overwatch!” Three pilot voices acknowledged his order in unionship and the lieutenant dared to brave a smile on his face as he came to the base of the ridge. The next few minutes of relative calm unnerved Ben and stole the tempo of success from his stride. As he navigated the frosted forest he cautiously approached each tree, suspecting an enemy to be waiting in ambush. Step, step, pause was his rhythm now as he hunted for more enemies to engage. He contemplated changing magazines on the rifle but decided against dumping half the ammo knowing he didn’t have much reserve left. The minutes ached on and a voice on the radio nearly made him jump, “Lieutenant this is Garner! Be advised I’m not piloting my unit!” Ben couldn’t help but scowl at the announcement, “what do you mean ensign? Explain!” “It’s the boy! He tricked me and took my unit I just came to in the barracks… but I know it was him.” “Damn it! Go help Swanson in unit four Garner! Leave him to me!” Grim switched off his microphone and heaved a heavy breath before keying in the channel for unit two, “Private Winter is that you?” There was an expected pause before the young voice responded, “acknowledge LT this is unit two…” The Aussie twang was unmistakable now and Grim clenched his teeth, there was a million things he wanted to tell the private at that moment. “Damnit Gabe! Form up on whoever you’re closest to. If you wanna play pilot that badly I’m not going to have you die alone. We’ll discuss this when this is over understand?” In a calm voice the teen responded professionally, “understood L-T forming up now.” More minutes of unnerving silence commenced and Grim contemplated pulling his forces back to the base at that time, something was definitely amiss. He was about to key his mic when weapons fire rang out through the trees. He turned his GM around towards the noise and couldn’t see anything “all units report!” Garbled voices responded with a definitive scream piercing his ears. It took Ben a moment then he realized who it was. “Wagner are you ok? Respond!” Next he heard Gabe grunting something incoherent and could hear more weapons in the distance. Suddenly a blaze of pink light flashed throughout the forest and Grim got a lock on the position, “Winter respond!” “Wagner’s hurt L-T. He took a heathawk to the cockpit. I’m afraid I can’t get a good look without leaving my cockpit though.” “Negative Winter, stay in your seat your my wingman now! Base send someone on foot to Wagner's position, me and Gabe will try and lure any remaining bogies away.” Affirmatives echoed over the radio as he finally linked up with Gabriel. The wreckage of two more Zakus had the Lieutenant gauging the outcome of the battle. He desperately wanted to get out of his cockpit to check on the now silent Wagner but knew better with four enemies still around. “I took them both out L-T…” a voice softly announced. Grim turned to regard the other GM standing next to him. He motioned for them both to move off. After a minute Ben keyed his mic, “you mean that flash wasn’t unit four? You used your beam saber?” “Affirmative sir…” there was a trace of satisfaction in the Aussies voice that Grim didn’t miss. “Good work private. Keep it up and we’ll make it out of this alive.” The duo marched along the trees zig zagging to make a path through the maze. More pink flashes Burned through the night air. “Swanson report!” Grim growled as he shifted his GM to face the base. Unit four had been perched on top of the hangar to give it a vantage point but he didn’t like the idea of them shooting. “Got trouble over here sir!” Grim didn’t wait, “back to base on the double Private!” He flared his thrusters and did a reckless leap back to the facility. Grim and Gabe leap frogged back to the base and within a few minutes the saw unit four shooting frantically from the rubble of the hangar. There was a moment when Swanson’s GM turned to regard Ben and Gabriel. The moment was interrupted by a bazooka round pounding into the chest of the GM, the cloud of smoke pulling Grim’s attention to a trio of Doms rushing into the base. “Gabe get behind and get ready I’m going to try and lure them to us!” Without waiting for a response Grim fired the remainder of his clip at the lead unit. Sure enough the Dom turned to regard the duo and lead the other two mobile suits to charge at them. As Grim started swapping for his last magazine he tried to calmly explain. “Hold your fire until they rush us!” If Gabriel understood he didn’t respond. Oddly enough Ben felt at ease with the private guarding his back. His reverie was disrupted by the trio of Doms thundering into them. A bazooka round burst into his shield and his cockpit shook violently as a follow up shot hit the shield practically shattering the feeble defense. Grim barely had enough sense to sidestep a heatrod slashing for his cockpit, “Gabe now!” The private seemed to have read Ben’s mind perfectly as unit two lashed out at the Dom with it’s beam saber. Slashing from the opposite side that the Dom was attacking Ben with. The Dom’s momentum helped the pink blade dig hungrily at the metal and it soon toppled past the pair like a car wreck. The victory was short lived as the other two Dom’s began to circle around them and began angrily shooting volleys at the two GMs. Instinct took over the two Federation pilots as they moved into reaction. Ben hardly had time to consider what Gabriel was doing but instead focused on the Dom flanking in front of him. Shieldless he bounced his GM around in a clumsy dance of thruster dodges. Trying to edge himself closer as he fired his machine gun at the faster enemy. The Dom wasn’t buying into it though. Every time Grim tried to lead his shots the Dom would juke and avoid the fire. Grim likewise did the same when the Dom lined up a bazooka shot. Grim knew they were both running out of ammo so he decided to entice the Dom for the inevitable. He tossed his machine gun to the ground and drew out his beam saber. Gripping the weapon with both hands he presented it in front of himself. Technically speaking, Grim knew he was in an inferior unit, but he hoped the pride of the Dom pilot would cloud any doubts the enemy might have. Sure enough the Dom accepted his challenge by tossing its own bazooka. And in a swift motion it produced its deadly rod and charged at the Lieutenant. Grim pointer the tip of his fusia blade at the enemy’s cockpit while the Dom predictable cocked its’ heat rod to its right side. Both units fired their thruster. The dom hovered at him in a frightening pace, too fast for him to match in speed. Grim did start in a rush with his metal feet pounding away; however as they got closer, he slowed his pace. He fired thrusters with each step making his unit seemingly bounce a bit more. At the last moment he fired his thrusters hard and dipped the blade beneath with. He whipped the sword up and focused on landing the GM from the awkward movement. It wasn’t until he turned his GM around that he saw that his maneuver had worked. Dom’a were fiercely horizontal units and it would have been crazy to fight on even ground. His blade as slashed perpendicular, cleaning through the cockpit and head of the Zeek, clouds of fire bleeding from the unit. Panic stole his satisfaction as he keyed his mic, “Winter! Do you copy!” Static responded back greedily and Grim marched forward to go past the wreck of the second Dom. Just as he came past it an explosion boomed from the last known direction of Gabriel. “Winter!” Grim called out frantically as he willed his suit forward. He was pretty much out of thrust by this point and with just his saber he didn’t know how much use he could be. As he approached the last bundle of black smoke he readied his blade in front of him. He saw that the bundle was the remains of a Dom. He then spotted a GM sitting in a pile of rubble, the cockpit was open. Sitting on the open hatch was a boy still in his teens, looking out at the destruction before him. The look on the boys face was one of satisfaction, or was it relief. Grim pulled up close and opened his own cockpit. “You ok son?” Gabriel looked up at Grim, the look of reverie leaving his face. Finally he nodded towards Grim, “never better lieutenant… never better.” Grim studied the young man for a moment and wondered to himself how the private had managed to pilot the mobile suit so well. The lieutenant knew he would have some explaining to do to command about this skirmish, yet he suspected that everything would turn out ok. The fact was that they had just repelled a superior force with nothing but wit and skill. He studied his sensors one last time to affirm his suspicions and nodded in satisfaction himself. “Gabriel… that was reckless… from now on how about you stick with me? And maybe… just maybe we’ll live through this madness.” The boy nodded his appreciation, “I think I can abide that Lieutenant.” They shared a salute and then a smile with each other. They would live to see their vow through.
  9. I like either idea, and I also still have a number of the old MS Variants I made for AD that never saw any use~
  10. Welcome to Advent Destiny. Please feel free to browse around and get to know the others. If you have any questions please don't hesitate to ask.

    1. MM007

      MM007

      Thank you very much!  I wonder just what kind of fun I can get into here!  I've never been satisfied with the lack of Gundam SEED RP out there...

  11. Norman Reid Biography Full name: Norman Jonathan Reid Faction: Colony 30 Militia (EFF Rogue) Rank: Impromptu Militia pilot, unofficial and unranked. Age: 36 years old Sex: Male Weight: 72kg Height: 1,81m Eyes: Hazel pupils, no contacts. Hair: Wheat-colored, undyed. Skin: Fair skin Handiness: Left-handed Personality Very mature and fairly reserved, Norman is a person of routines, who likes to have his day planned out, and feels frustrated whenever inconveniences spring up, but always finds a way not to let them have the last laugh. Conflict absent from his nature, he was always cautious not to let opinions, political or otherwise, create rifts between his team, and acted in a highly diplomatic manner, while following orders from his higher-ups, no matter if he had a better idea. His attitude towards life means he simply cannot understand the human cravings for war, but it hasn’t stopped him from helping the Federation make mobile weapons in the past in exchange for a stable salary. Strengths and weaknesses As one of the designers of the GM lineage during the One Year War, and a former Mobile Suit test pilot, he knows very well how to pilot his machine, its specifications and what it's capable of. His movement has been very well honed due to his experience with rigurous, constant testing, but he doesn’t fare so well in the combat department, having not been in a real battle before. As such, he can dodge a surprising amount of shots, but so can his enemy, provided the onboard computer (which does most of the aiming) can't read their movements. Appearance A slim and blonde man, Norman used to be seen frequently in a white lab coat, but after his discharge, he prefers to wear a blue suit and tie with a white shirt. He also frequently uses a pair of frameless glasses for reading text up close. Said glasses are usually absent in a Mobile Suit, being as the screens of the machines are far from the pilots and show their text on a big enough font for most eyes. History Born a Colony 30 local in September the 23rd of UC 0049, he was thirty years old when the One Year War hit. Until then, he had been kept busy with study, graduating from high school with top qualifications in the areas pertaining to exact sciences and engineering. He spent seven years becoming a robotics engineer, graduating at age twenty-five and studying the case of Munzo's, then Zeon's mobile inventions, used in Federation territories as construction equipment. These efforts landed him a spot in a Federation mobile research team when the first unofficial battles between Zeon and the Federation took place, in which the former unleashed the wrath of the Zaku I, and later the Zaku II upon Federation Guntanks and Guncannons before the One Year War. His team would go on to design the V Project Mobile Suits for the Federation to build at Side 7 during the war. Upon the apparent success of the first operative prototype to enter battle, the famed Gundam, the remainder of Side Seven's researchers joined up with those of Colony 30 in Side 1. The resulting research team was split on a group that would be following the progress of Gundam and its support units, while the other half, comprised of lesser members such as himself, would go on to optimize the Gundam's design for mass production with the data provided by the tracking group. Reid became a key member of the GM Development Program, participating in field tests of the original model and variants like the GM Command and GM Custom, accompanying the pilot or even piloting the units himself. When the One Year War reached its end, he kept working with the Federation for some time, and would have become a part of the GM Quel and GM II development projects, had he not been put aside for evaluation when television cameras filmed him in the background of an anti-Titans protest in the main street, where he was walking on a purely coincidental manner. Fearing that the protesters were right after he saw MPs beating them, he submitted his resignation, then an application for a similar job at Anaheim Electronics, but before a reply could come in, Colony 30 rose up in protest against the Titans, and the Earth Federation. To make an example out of them, Commander-in-Chief of the Titans Bask Om decided to use nerve gas on the whole colony to suppress the riots. The information somehow leaked over to the local Federation garrison, the Colony 30 Defense Corps, which decided to sortie in their outdated Mobile Suits to try and save the colony from a small team of Titans that were hoping to infiltrate the colony in a silent manner, and attack by surprise. However, they were found in time by the Corps, which despite the anti-Federation riot inside fought the enemy Mobile Suits as well as they could. All but four of the Corps members were killed in the skirmish, while of the four-man formation of the Titans, only their squadron leader survived, along with his Galbaldy Beta. The colony had bought themselves some time before the Titans returned in utter seriousness, and finished them, so the administrative authorities of the colony started evacuating their citizens via space launches headed to other colonies. However, without somebody to escort them, they would be easily swatted down not if, but when the Titans came back. Spare units were available, but aside from the three surviving Corps members, only a single pilot survived, whose unit’s destruction was surprisingly non-fatal. Desperate to ready as many units as they could, they ordered their mechanics to prep the spare Mobile Suits, and organized a militia, recruiting Mobile Worker and Mobile Pod pilots, but the closest they could find to a qualified Mobile Suit pilot was one of the minds behind the machines they piloted, whose motives to get in the cockpit and to defend the space launches was the best friend of his lifetime, as she would be getting in one, and to eventually build the courage to speak to her about moving their relationship a step further would be in vain, were she to die in that colony... Possessions Norman owns: M71A1 Pistol: An old standard issue pistol for the Earth Federation Forces, one of the first ever made of the model, that has survived the passing of time thanks to a local armorer’s careful and skillful maintenance, and has now fallen in the hands of Reid after enlisting himself with the Colony 30 Militia to defend his home. It has been given a wooden grip to counter the weariness of the polymer frame around the magazine. RGM-79G GM Command: One of the spare Mobile Suits of the Colony 30 Defense Corps, it was given orange details and accents to differentiate it from similar Mobile Suits still answering to the Earth Federation. It answers to the number five, as its pilot was put immediately after the four ex-Federation pilots on the squadron order, being the most experienced among the rest of the recruits of the militia but still unable to compare to them. Kills None Roleplays - Mobile Suit Gundam: Consequences of the Future [In Progress] Coliseum battles - None ---
  12. Ensign Winter sat hunched on the railing outside of his Quel. Quietly he tapped away at a bulky laptop which was wired up to his mobile suit. He sifted through the lines of numbers and data, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. He had gotten scrutinized over his choice of mobile suit. Lately everyone else had been transitioning to the Hizak, a mobile suit which reminded Gabriel too much of a Zeek unit. Ensign Winter on the other hand opted to maintain his use of the Quel. His decision proved to be both a burden and a blessing; a burden because of his peers criticizing him, and a blessing because the influx of spare parts for his unit from the other Quels. Despite his abundant source of supplies he was faced with having to maintain his unit increasingly on his own. A small price to pay in his mind, he enjoyed solitude. While the world seemed to move on its own, Gabriel remained glued on the past, his mind flowing back to his home, and worse to that damn Zeek who humiliated him in this very unit. He didn’t care that his peers got new units and fancy promotions, he didn’t care that he was merely tolerated; he just wanted to fight, to get revenge. Sighing once more from the headache the screen was giving him he finally shut the laptop down, satisfied with his work. He tucked the chords away and cleaned up his station before floating along down the catwalk. His eyes wandered from suit to suit and before long he spotted the only other elephant in the room, the GM sniper tucked on the other end of the hangar. His eyes glider along the paneling of the older suit and his attention was stolen when he heard his name, “Gabe!” The Titan turned around to regard his colleague Ryder. Gabriel snapped into a salute before responding, “yessir?” Ryder was one of the blokes who received a promotion, for what Gabriel couldn’t quite wrap his head around but he wasn’t one for military politics. “You’re still not taking a Hizak Lieutenant?” Gabriel asked quizzically as he floated towards his comrade. “We’re going to make quite the odd couple out there mate…” Gabriel murmured half heartedly.
  13. Universal Century 0085. It had been a year and a half since Ryder had joined the Titans, and things had changed for the newly promoted Lieutenant. No longer was he apart of a platoon. He belonged to the Pursuers, a special force within the Titans, and they were at the top of their class. The 8 Mobile Suit pilots apart of this squadron were all assigned to the Alexandria-class ship, the Excalibur. Ryder currently floated around in the hangar of this ship, waiting for it to dock into Konpei Island. Their next assignment was being kept from them, something the Lieutenant didn't enjoy. It never gave him enough time to prepare, but it did give him the extra challenge. However, Ryder already had enough of a challenge, considering he had an outdated mobile suit. Most members of the team used the Hizack, one of the newer mobile suits, but Ryder was stubborn. He opted to stick with his GM Sniper II, along with another squad-mate, Gabriel. The Ensign loved his GM Quel, which made him an obvious choice to be Ryder's spotter on missions. The Titan watched as one of the Hizacks was being dismantled for spare parts. "It's sad to see her go." said a booming voice behind him. Ryder turned to see the Commander of the Pursuers. "But it's not every day you get to try a new mobile suit, huh?" Ryder smirked as he heard that comment. He knew the commander wished he would use something better, but time and time again, Ryder would refuse. "Well, I hope it works well, Dustin." He responded to the scarred individual. Suddenly, he heard the ship start to connect to the large space station. "That's our cue." said Dustin. "I'll meet you inside Solo- I mean Konpei Island, in room R17." He floated toward a nearby opening as Ryder watched. Every time he saw him, he was reminded of the mistake he made. That Gelgoog Marine haunted him... Ryder zipped up his uniform and followed suit, but he knew he couldn't catch up. Dustin worked a million miles a minute as a commander and wanted to make sure everything would be ready for their meeting. He looked and saw his teammate. "Gabe!" he yelled out.
  14. “Erland!” Edwin cried out as he saw the two mechs dump onto a building. The explosion of debris was actually quite impressive with the pressurization of the small building rupturing and gushing out air and dust in a brief but violent whirlwind. He reflexively winced at the sight and fought his instincts, scanning around. Sure enough another spinner Rodi busted out of shed and blind sided Edwin knocking the rifle from his Graze’s hand. No matter, Edwin brooded, I want these cowards to see their death coming. With the elegance of a veteran Edwin moved his Graze with the momentum of the Mobile worker and twirled his mobile suit around. As he completed his rotation he drew out his blade and fired his thrusters after the retreating Rodi. As he closed the gap the Rodi also twisted around. Dancing in their dangerous game it began firing rounds at Edwin’s Graze. Panic must have stricken the civilian pilot because their shots trailed lazily towards Edwin, and despite their closing proximity, the fool couldn’t land a hit in the Graze. Edwin thrust the tip of his blade directly into the belly of the mobile suit, a clean strike that instantly killed the pilot and made the mech go limp. He pulled the blade out and twirled his Graze around to look at his two comrades. Edwin noticed Yohan similarly dispatching another Spinner with his rifle. The problem seemed almost resolved when a glimmer of crimson stole his attention, and Edwin had to sort through his confusion at not seeing Erland’s Graze. The vision of a demon made the commander freeze in genuine fear, he could feel the stump on his arm ache at the presence of the machine. Marching solemnly towards the Gjallarhorn soldiers was a titan of equal if not greater measure. Walking down the makeshift road towards the trio was a red Gundam. Their radios crackled as a strange voice hailed the trio. “Surrender your weapons and your ship and no one will have to die.” Edwin bit his lip and switched his radio to Erland, “Erland are you alive?” At that moment Edwin didn’t want to take his eyes off the demon to check on his friend. “Erland if you’re there I need you back on your feet soldier! We got a demon to kill!” He switched his comm to include Yohan, “I’ll lure it close to me, Yohan you take shots with your rifle, aim for its joints but be careful to avoid friendly fire.” At that moment Edwin had a million questions he wanted answered, perhaps the most demanding being how these rebels found a Gundam on the moon. His concerns hardly mattered with the pressing business. He was mildly tempted to banter with the rebel to learn what he could but decided that silence would gain him more favors. He had fought with a demon once before and lost his forearm because of it. He may be the only one that truly appreciated the gravity of the moment they were in.
  15. Edwin was right. Whatever they were doing, it was an obvious trap. Erland gripped onto the controls harder, thinking about their next plan of attack. No matter what, they needed to stick together, but they had to know where the enemy even was. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. "I'll fly onto the roof of one of these buildings." The Branch Commander said. "It'll give us a better view of what we're dealing with. The Red Graze began to raise as Erland found a sturdy rooftop to land on. It's feet carefully pressed down on the building, as he looked out into the maze of passages. "Strange..." He thought to himself. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but something was askew. The mobile worker had vanished, but he had no clue where. At that moment, Erland heard machine gun fire. "Commander!" yelled Yohan. "He's going for your back." Erland maneuvered the mobile suit to the right as the Spinner Rodi slammed into the side of the lance. Both machines fell down onto one of the nearby buildings, demolishing it completely...
  16. Way to go! Let’s keep it rolling!
  17. It's that time of the year again! I'm glad to mark the 15th year of Advent Destiny with the relaunch of our site and to see new faces becoming familiar figures amongst us. Here's to more awesome years ahead!
  18. Getting out of the Captain's living quarters with Shiro’s file and a clenched fist, Nicky floated to the cargo bay, where he got himself two red wrenches to slip into the sleeves of his jade-colored jacket, and approached a remnant of his friends in the AEUG's green Salamis: Nelson Astley, a chubby engineer who liked to collect military plastic models back in Earth, living with the elite before his parents kicked him out and he joined the AEUG in retaliation. Nelson had photographic memory, and while he didn't remember the name of the guy legally in charge of the maintenance reports, he did tell him about a guy with messy hair and a bandana keeping the upper part in place, dressed with a green military jacket. Dining with his friends in the cafeteria. Bingo. He made his way there, and surely enough, he found a posse of young adults, crammed in a single table and carelessly laughing at each other's jokes. He could hear what they said as he calmly floated to his table. "Heard we're gonna have to tow that GM all the way to wherever we're going." Said the bandana-wearer, apparently the leader of the pack, eating the last of his fries. He was bigger than what Nelson had said... "The one that ate shit?" The fat one opposite him stopped sipping his drink after the fizzy liquid had gone past the half mark, then left the plastic vase in its hole while reaching for an unfinished heart-stopping, triple-decked burger. "Dead weight. We could get there faster if we left the thing floating around space or something. It’s not even worth scrapping, not to us anyway." You’re another definition of dead weight... "Literally dead. Fucking Zeeks punched a hole through the torso. We're lucky they don’t try to bring that shit near the bay. You know, i completely pity the poor bastard who gets assigned the job of opening that thing once we get there. Must reek of fried burgers in there." The careless alpha-male laughed, along with his friends. One of them was drinking from another plastic vase when the black humor kicked in, and his nose fired the soda back into the table, along with an extra something, before he was forced to get out of the table and go to the bathroom, holding his face on pain and cursing at the air while the ones next to him were understandably grossed out by the sight of what seemed to be a blob of not-ketchup floating next to their bread. "Then..." Cleaning up the blood next to his brother’s sandwich so he could munch on it like nothing had happened at all, another one of them replied, clad in a green engineer’s jumpsuit. "We should get one of the new captain’s Feddie lackeys to start doing the dirty jobs here. The ex-Titans fucker walking around in the black jacket sounds like a good start." Nick didn’t give them any more time, and without a greeting, he began building his relentless offense. His hand threw Shiro’s file in the table, exactly in front of the culprit and just like his commander had done a few minutes ago. But it fell much more heavily this time, with an audible thump. "You know, you’re talking mad stuff, for the shithead responsible of killing a perfectly good soldier." His eyes open with disbelief, the green jacket turned around and looked at him. "The fuck you said to me, you little shit?" He asked, adding a lot of emphasis to the second word. Nicky was already scared shitless, and had to constantly remind himself not to show it to everyone present, not to run away, that everything was under control. We’ve been here before. You can time it right this time... "Of course, i did kill him." Nick continued. "But it was your fault too. You see, your name is probably somewhere in a piece of paper in Von Braun, a piece of paper that says you get paid for doing a job you’re currently NOT. Namely, doing the final check-up on every Mobile Suit." "And what do you know about little Eddie over there?" Said the jumpsuit guy, having finished his own Ham and Cheese Long. "I tend to read about the people i kill", Nicky jokingly added. "Edward Shiro was with this organization from the very beginning, because he was a man of outstanding morals, not like a group of people i’m currently staring at." Looking at the big man in the bandana, he could see him gritting his teeth. "He had two daughters, which means he was capable of maintaining much more than you ever will, even without your fancy toolbox. And he has left behind a wife. He seems to have been somebody a woman could get to love. Unlike your sorry behind." The gang replied with typical teenager behavior: "Ooooo"ing. The universal way to add gasoline to a fire you want to make sure will be there for one to watch the world burn. Their leader was an imbecile, but he could take a hint, and so he crepitated his knuckles, getting up from his seat. "Some fucking sorry ass excuse of a manlet is forgetting his place here, and i’m about to send his pretty face where it belongs… the infirmary." "Why not the showers? My new camera could use with the practice!" A fourth voice joined the fray with another joke, which made all of them laugh again, innocently enough to convince Nick that they hadn’t gotten ever before to that extent, nor would they get to anyways. He ignored the joker with the shiny black SQNY video camera, and made his final approach, to make sure all cards would be stacked in his favor against the alleged chief maintenance "worker" of the ship. "Funny of you to say. You’re failed a spot check in that confidence of yours. You see, that guy, that good man? He died covering me so i could get back to the ship. Because i was out of combat. Because my bullshit Mobile Suit sortied without giving me a single warning that it had been put in the wrong configuration. And it wasn’t entirely its job. It also was your job to warn me of how the Suit had been used beforehand and the state it was in. That father? That husband? Wasn’t only me and Anaheim. You killed him too. So if you think you actually deserve a place on this ship, you incompetent piece of shit, well… you’re as wrong as the colony gasser in the other Nemo." "Motherfucker!" With an audible yell, the big man finally lost it, having his punch go all the way back, to be launched towards Nicky’s face at terminal speed. With incredible nimbleness, however, all Nicky did in immediate response was to take a mere step back, and watch the fist come to a halt a pair of meters away from his face. He wasn’t one to simply keep dodging, though, so before his opponent could make another move and force him to step back again, he crouched, and one of the red wrenches came out of his right sleeve. He steered away from his rock-hard abs, instead launching it towards a much more harmful area. When the wrench hit his groin, the whole gang covered theirs impulsively, making all kinds of painful grins. Then, to drive the point home, he pulled his left arm back, and the other wrench came out of it too. When the disoriented man tried to look in his direction, it was too late. A solid piece of steel made impact against his nose, and by the noise it made afterwards, the watchers knew that was going to hurt almost as much. Fainting by the sheer amount of pain endured in a question of a few moments, his towering figure fell with his back over one corner of the table, turning it over and sending everyone’s food floating around the room, while he started floating slowly towards the floor, unconsciously grabbing his nose with both hands and leaving behind a trail of blood. With a smug smirk, Nick looked down upon the defeated man. Internally, he couldn't believe it. He had actually pulled it off, and now was feeling invincible. He raised his gaze to Bandana Man's shocked friends, and quickly tried to scare them off a "boo", which didn't work out as well as expected. He would only realize too late that the one that had gone to the bathroom was back, and so he was subdued from behind, thrown to the floor and kicked by the five men that were still standing. It went on for minutes, until one of the cooks got out of the kitchen with a rolling pin in hand, and threatened to beat them all to a mist if they kept making a disturbance in the cafeteria, while Nick was wise to fly away the moment the gang was being distracted by the chef with the killer glare. Not the most beneficial of ways to end the the battle, he reckoned an hour later, as he came out of the nearest men’s restroom with wraps over his own nose and forehead. Their leader wouldn’t get out of bed in a long while, but the five of them were still at loose, looking to return the favor. And Captain Grim was sure to slap him for it next day. Don’t give a piece of crap. The point has been made. That fucker better do what he’s paid to from now on... Only one thing left to do now. Nick set course for the sleeping pods, looking for the pod labeled B7R, and when he found it, he used a key to unlock the door. He briefly leaned inside to leave his e-journal and glasses there, under the watch of an empty receptacle where a CRT screen probably used to be, before it was removed and replaced with the kind of flexible tape one could see in early-morning weekend infomercials back in the colony cylinders. There still seemed to be something there Nick could use to close his eyes, though: a pair of worn headphones and a radio with a broken dial, which probably couldn’t even reach for anything on the emptiness of space, but maybe still played something. Eager, he plugged in the headphones and listened, looking for a musical safe haven he could let himself fall in, and as a happy tune played behind them, a familiar pair of Swedish women indeed welcomed him with the one thing he didn’t know he really needed that night: their voice. "You can dance! You can jive! Having the time of your life!" Yes! Somebody had probably left a number of incredibly dated, but unbelievably good mixtapes running as a makeshift radio station of sorts and plugged all of the bed auxiliary cords to it. Just like in that good old Salamis. Tired, Nick left his shoes in the receptacle under the door and climbed inside, getting cozy under the provided bed sheets and putting on the headphones again, before turning on his journal and typing for ten or twenty minutes straight about his first day of being berated and punched by a gang of incompetent, overpaid crewmen. After that, he turned off the journal and closed his eyes, drifting through the coldness of space as a roll of artificially softened bed sheets. By then, the radio had suffered a serious tone shift, from a cheerful song about happiness, to a sad piano piece over which another woman finished her solo, while he silently cried, alone, to once and for all kill what was left of that horrible day. "Nothing I can say A total eclipse of the heart..." --- OOC: If you thought this post would be good because of how long it is and how much time it cost me - you’re wrong. It's plain old writer's block. Have a good night.
  19. Deftly, Teo willed the Gelgoog's arm to catch the Quel's arm by the wrist. Contact-based radio activated, allowing him to hear the enemy pilot. His blood boiled, and quietly he grit his teeth from behind his helmet. "Because I want to prove myself!" he spat. "I want to prove that I'm my own man!" The Gelgoog's thrusters roared to life once more as its leg was brought up to brace against the GM's chest. With all its might, it begun to pull on the newer mobile suit's arm. Slowly but surely, the Gelgoog begun to gore the enemy mobile suit, tearing its arm free from the rest of its body. Electricity arced from the torn wires while oil and coolant begun to flow free from the tubes connecting the Quel's arm like blood from a wound. With its other hand, Teo drove the beam naginata's condensed blade into the machine's shoulder, cutting upwards to slice and tear through the Federation machine's frame. Curiously, however, none of the Gelgoog's strikes were aimed at the vital sections of the Quel. Perhaps its pilot didn't want to kill his enemy.
  20. The violent turbulence shook the mobile and pilot alike. Stone faced, Edwin maneuvered the colossus towards the lunar surface. The weak gravity felt annoying, not quite tugging him down and not quite releasing him from the gray horizon. They landed on a ridge east of the facility. It was eerily quiet with no movement beyond the three machines. Edwin sniffed, “feels like a trap. Don’t let these rebels get an edge on us. Stick together and we’ll be fine.” He hardly waited for a reply before gliding his suit to the edge of the ridge and look down. Still no movement. Grunting he hopped the ridge and slid down towards the facility. The buildings conveniently made mobile suit the sized passages where two suits could pass abreast. The maze of passages was impressive even by mobile suit size. His rifle led the way as he took the lead. Soon They found themselves at an intersection. Edwin scowled ar the screen as he scanned the buildings. “Yohan why don’t you-“ His transmission was interrupted by a mobile worker bursting out of a garage strafing and firing at them all. A few shells rattled on their armor and before anyone could return fire it disappeared behind a building. Edwin hissed, “they’re using the facility as cover.” Silent alarms in his head went off and he resisted following the obvious bait. Something was definitely not right. “Things are about to go kinetic my friends.” The grizzled veteran growled.
  21. Jared kept his almost infectious grin painted on his face as the woman talked. He honestly listened to her banter and kept his silent analysis of her filter behind his eyes. “Where are we headed anyway? I don't go planet side so if its Earth I get the master bathroom and whatever is attached to it." He cleared his throat, “I can’t say that I have an interest in going to earth but your machine on the other hand, catches my eye…” he leaned in close, his expression growing slightly more serious. “You see I very much wish to obtain one of these demons for my startup organization. A mascot can be a powerful symbol in the mercenary business you know.” His eyes looked at her suggestively. “I reckon you know a thing or two about combat your majesty…” there was a glimmer in his eye at the suggestion of combat. As if the excitement of the word was enough for them to understand each other. “Tell me why is it you are running away? Why is the price so high for you?” He took a moment to check a small tablet he kept with him and nodded at a message sent to him. His eyes shifted back up to the girl with the dangerous glimmer burning in his eyes. By this point several crew came floating within a respectful distance.
  22. The ASW-G-69 Gundam Asmodai. Painted the standard Gundam shade of white, it had its limbs painted with a mix of red and black. The pirates had decorated its clawed finger tips with gold stolen from their prey. Its weapons were stowed on its back, held by a pair of sub arms. The Asmodai's signature features were the mouth guard, it had been modified by the pirates to be a grinning mouth full of teeth where excess heat and flame from its other signature feature, the flame cannon on its left arm. Delaja gagged at the sight of it. "Happy now?" She hissed at the machine under her breath before something caught her attention. “Your majesty!” Came a shout from one of the smugglers. The one she recognized, Jared,. Those words made her skin crawl. "... Princess..." Was the only word that she reacted to, and she did so with a scowl. "You're lucky you didn't try to pilot the Asmodai. It loves to kill loudmouths. Call me Delaja." She restrained herself from growling at the smuggler as she slipped the coin down her shirt as causally as she could, "Where are we headed anyway? I don't go planet side so if its Earth I get the master bathroom and whatever is attached to it."
  23. Erland climbed into the cockpit of his mobile suit, pressing a multitude of buttons to get the machine started. It was finally time for battle, and the preparations here would be extremely important, considering their enemy. The communicators turned on, with Edwin on the other side. “You ready Erland? Let’s head out.” he said. Erland felt like everything was ready. "I am. Let's take care of this mess." He maneuvered the mobile suit into position, waiting for clearance. "You're good to go." said one of the crew members. The Branch Commander smiled. "Erland Falk, Schwalbe Graze. LAUNCHING!" The mobile suit jetted into the depths of space...
  24. A large waterfall was crashing down onto the rocks below, keeping a large pond filled. Ryder Sarka sat near this lake during his break from his duties at Jaburo. It had been a week since the skirmish with the Zeon Remnants, and things had changed since then. The Commander had received new orders from the higher-ups. The four were to leave for space once Dustin had healed. The Ensign knew little about the assignment, only that they would be apart of a larger division. He hoped that it was a special unit, but only time would tell. As for the Zeon survivors, no search parties ever found them. Ryder assumed they had made it to their destination. He hoped that his next mission would go differently. The Titan picked up a small stone, tossing it across the water. It began to sink as it hit it. "I was never good at skipping stones." Ryder thought to himself. Ryder had been doing a lot of thinking lately. The Titans were something completely different to him, and part of him wished that he'd never joined. He knew it had to be done though. Ryder needed closure for Len's death, and the only way to do that would be through the specialized Zeon killers. He got up and began walking back toward the base. It wouldn't be long before he'd be leaving and going back to space. That got Ryder excited. Not only would it be a change of scenery, since it'd been years since he'd gone back up, but it would be a new chapter in his life as a Titan. he wouldn't allow himself to lose again. This time, thing's would be difference. Ryder Sarka wouldn't allow anything but the best of his abilities in order to become a star in the Titans... FIN
  25. One Week Later "From the hands of the 101th Mobile Suit Team of the Zeon Earth Assault Force's South African branch: Take as much time as you want, but don't let it be because of us. The ten of us have signed this piece of paper as our will to sacrifice ourselves, with the intention to buy this convoy a strong head start. Make use of it and let them reach Axis. Give them their home, and they'll give the Feds their war." The entirety of Port Elizabeth in South Africa stared at the abyss of a clear night sky. An airfield in the outskirts of the city had opened the doors to the biggest hangar, one that was surprisingly big enough for a Gaw attack carrier. While this happened, sentries watched out for anything that looked even remotely like the glow of a GM's composite visor. The silhouette of a man leaned against a railing at the top of the abandoned control tower, glancing briefly at the hangar where the engineers quietly tried to get the main engine to work again (after a failed launch days prior), then lifting his gaze at the skyline of the thriving metropolis. His hands grasped the handle of a nearby ice container to open the door, taking out a beer can to quench the thirst and placate the heat. Condensation formed in the outer walls of the tin cylinder upon contact with the air. A nearby lamp post ocassionally flickered on and washed him in a warm, faint light, only to abandon him a few moments later. It had been a long day, and it would be a long night. Time seemed to be endless after the Axis officer read that letter he had handed him out loud. Erin had told him that it was a secret meant for the officer, that he or anybody else were never to even glance at it. Now, he knew why. He wouldn’t have left if she were ever to tell him. The woman behind him, of whose presence he was unaware, had been through a lot more. After the battle that ended with the lives of all but two of her team members a week ago, their struggle to live another day was all but lost. However, it didn’t turn into much of a disruption for her plans. Leading the Titans away, they would be sure to be too focused in her team for any kind of attempt at investigating the ruins and finding out about the convoy that was en route to Port Elizabeth. After all, ten pilots weren't much when compared to the whole group of Mobile Suit mechanics, workers and soldiers that would reach Axis. They weren't expecting a battle that early, hoping to gain a head start and lead them further, but the two Zeonics and the Zimmad that had come out of that mess were still enough to keep pushing. Enough to keep moving forward. Enough to eat a few more rounds. And so the three carried on, to what they thought would be their bitter end. Not everything had been lost, however. Two days of constant watch later, Lady Luck smiled upon their perseverance one more time, and had them find a remote village where scarce remnants of the ZEAF had gone into hiding after their base was retaken by the Federation. Scared and tired, the vast majority decided to forgive but not forget, carrying on with a calm rural life and a low profile. Five of them did not forgive either, though, secretly mantaining their Mobile Suits, their uniforms and small arms as best as they could, all of it for the day when the Principality would come back for them. Taking some rest at the local inn, she told them about the convoy that was making its way to Port Elizabeth, and so they agreed to repair her Mobile Suits and join her, with the condition that she tried to take them there. The Gouf Custom and Dom Tropen got up better next morning, while the Zaku’s legs were deemed a lost cause after they never turned on again, and replaced with a Magella Attack’s tracks to be given as a Zaku Tank to the greenest of the bunch. They started marching towards Elizabeth, the three of them plus a blue Zogok and a captured GM that had been painted in green camouflage. Yuri kept travelling by her side, but Lyle decided to stay in the village and help them heal their sick, being as their medic had been lost months ago in an unfortunate, violent robbery, and few of them actually risked a walk into the city. In exchange, the Tropen would be given to the leader of the local squad for him to pilot. Erin knew Lyle’s decision wasn’t all about helping the villagers, but also a result of his doubts after Raphael’s death. She would miss him, but she let him stay, as it would be for the best. No point trying to force somebody to fight when motivated pilots were available, and while his skills as a medic weren’t stellar, they were better than nothing at all. Now, Erin was back. The last week had been nothing if not terrifying. Every corner, every bush, every moving object could be a potential sign of a terrible death to come. Every step was a miracle. But that would be no more. She was safe and sound, and ready to go back to her life of eternal grudges and jingoism. Go ahead. You can say it now, you magnificent bastard. Happy to be there again, she let out a smirk and grabbed a beer can too, leaning against the railing, then looking into his astonished eyes. "I'm home..."
  26. Edwin nodded at Erland’s remark about deploying. “Soon enough. Go get some rest and in a few of hours we’ll deploy.” With that he saluted his friend before retreating to his own quarters, he was quite tired from all the traveling. A few hours later an alarm awoke him in his bed and he groggily got up to put in his space suit. The room was sparsely decorated due to the lack of gravity and he struggled to get in his suit. His fake arm floated around him as he put on the combat gear, waiting for the last minute to attach the abomination to the remains of his limb. At last he got the suit and arm on and zipped up the uniform before grabbing his helmet. It didn’t go unnoticed that his left hand shook visibly and he nervously squeezed the device to “loosen” it up before heading into the hallway. He wore a grim look on his face as he saluted the crew and soon found the entrance to his alabaster Graze. He paused as he perched on the lip of the cockpit to study the behemoth and the sword locked on its hip. Flashbacks of the fateful combat that stole his left arm flooded his vision and he could clearly recalled how crumpled up the left side of the machine had been when he was pried out. He equally recalled the eyes of the demon that maimed him, the elegant designs of the Gundam he fought. He shook the thought from his head before going into the cockpit determinedly. As he sat down he locked his helmet on and pulled the straps across his body. He began his religious system checks to awaken his own monster and prepare for combat. As he neared the end of the routine he did a radio check, “are you there Erland? Yohan?” To his delight his Adjutant responded eagerly, “Affirmative Captain! Ready to deploy when you are!” A grin did form on his face, “you ready Erland? Let’s head out.”
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