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Post by dad on Nov 8, 2016 21:39:59 GMT
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Post by killeroftheminge on Nov 8, 2016 23:34:00 GMT
Tension permeated and coalesced throughout the conference room as a UN Captain looked over the current status reports of their base on Mars. So far 3 highly trained Stand Users had failed amidst this insurrection on Mars: Major Lazer, Price and Colonel Crause. They weren't the best if the best, granted but still...3, against a lousy gathering of miscreants?!
The doors to the conference room open as two privates enter, before the file of reports was flung against the wall next to them.
"FUCK!" The captain shouted, his face looking both tired and furious at the same time. He places his face in his hands, slowly rubbing his temples as he looked through the cracks between his fingers.
"How is this even possible...3, 3 special force Stand Users are taken our by...what, outcasts?! Children, little pissants...how does this happen?!"
"Well, Captain," one private spoke up, gulping a bit as he ventured to speak, "they caught us off guard-"
"Off guard? LAZER HAD A GODDAMN FORTRESS, AND THAT IDIOT COULDN'T STOP A COUPLE OF PUNKS?! Godammit...even worse we couldn't salvage the base, which means those rebels have access to important, CLASSIFIED UN documents...sigh, I need a drink," the Captain said, pouring a shot of cheap whiskey. He downs it before turning back to the Privates, his anger replaced with some new form of contentment.
"The way I see it, those rebels have been getting it easy. Lazer, Price, Crause, theyre valuable assets but...well, their priorities aren't what we need. No, no, no, what we need isnt a warrior or a fortress or even someone willing to get their hands dirty; again, valuable, but I'm thinking they're a little too close minded. We need to put these little nobodies in their place, we need to show them just how daunting of a force they're up against..."
"S-sir?"
"I put the proposition forward a few days ago, and it finally came through, god bless the powers that be...gentlemen, we need someone with a more rugged approach. Send the message to the Fear Troopers. We're sending in Dukes to clean up this mess..."
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Post by Kacey on Nov 9, 2016 1:45:38 GMT
It was a decent day for Alejandro, nothing to special had just happened to him today. Today was the day he set for his special "project" and due to recent events that happened days ago, he barely had the time to focus on this special project. He walked through the red sand streets to his destination, a abandoned storage facility. Although there are some abandoned storage facilities, Alejandro remembers which one contained his special project.
It took a while for Alejandro to get to his destination, he had to be careful, to avoid anyone following him especially the UN. If the UN saw this, they'll suspect him as a terrorist and have him executed right on the spot. Alejandro opened one of the huge wide doors to the side, grunting and pushing aside the massive rusty door, revealing the giant mech that was stored there. "I'm back!" he spoke to his mechanical friend which of course was turned off.
It was strange how he stumbled across this machinery, It was when he was trying to escape the police 2 years ago and by luck, he hid in one of the abandoned storages and found a mech that was unmanned and seemed to be decommissioned for quite some time. Alejandro decided that this mech right here will be the ticket for him to go back home, to leave mars and live a normal life. For 2 years he had tried to learn whatever he can to make the machine fully operational again, bringing scrap parts, replacing wires, and tedious stuff that would make any person give up on this mech but not Alejandro, he was so sure that this mech, that he stumbled upon on day would grant him a way back home.
Alejandro took a deep breath and walked to the far right of the storage area, where he stores his stolen equipment from the mines. Alejandro managed to steal a good amount of equipment that he actually needed from the mines a couple of days ago, it was a good thing that the crazy Russian dude didn't completely blow up the mines he was in or else it would've taken much longer to do what he was about to do.
Grunting, he dragged the heavy bag of equipment that he needed to the elevator platform, where it would bring him to the head of the giant robot. Once he reached the top of the mech, he hopped down to the open cockpit with his bag filled with tools "Let's get to work!" he said to himself, already pulling out the drill and began to work on the main console of the robot.
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Maester of Evil
Cuckold 
Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd
"If you are lonely when you're alone, you are in bad company."
Posts: 657 
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Post by Maester of Evil on Nov 9, 2016 7:31:39 GMT
Benny was lounging on his fouton, a grimace of pain and frustration splayed across his face as he watched the local state-run news. Thanks to that idiot Gilles moment of weakness not only had Crause managed to escape, but he escaped knowing everyone's faces! "He might prattle on about honour and all that bullshit, but the minute brass asks him he'll spill the means; none of us are safe. It's bad enough that I had to deal with some black market surgeon but I know that they'll be watching me like a hawk... more than they already have been." The news turned to describing the recent attack against the military base, framing it as an act of seditious terrorism and extolling the sacrifices made by those who gave their lives in defense of the UN; surprising emphasis was placed on the actions of Colonel Barlow who, amongst a relatively large strata of the Earth population, was being hailed as a hero for saving what men he could during the battle. Apparently he was being transferred to Martian High Command alongside the remainder of his forces as additional support. "What horseshit" Benny growls before throwing a bottle of booze at the TV in a rage, shattering both before closing his eyes to rest. "You know, I really do have to wonder where that lot got their mechs..." Benny fell asleep with an animalistic grin, ideas forming alongside dreams in his mind.
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Post by dad on Nov 9, 2016 22:19:34 GMT
"Get moving! Get moving!"
Chloe sat on the only clean chair in the tarnished ex-UN military base, various workers loyal to her family cleaning up the place, removing bullets, washing blood and disposing of leftover corpses. The princess just sat there and smiled, looking at various confidential information store in the base's computers while the workers kept searching room after room, gathering more and more abandoned equipment.
"This is great, simply amazing! The amount of data here is enough to give us a head start and allow us to find out the weak spots of more bases around here!" Chloe grinned. "They were foolish to try to fight us, foolish, foolish, foolish! Let all of these bodies be a warning to the UN that Mars's Stand users aren't going to take their abuse any longer! The more troops you send, the more losses you'll have!" She cackled a bit. "But enough of that, I shouldn't get too overconfident."
"Princess Chloe! Our scanners detected an unknown signal from miles away! It is currently heading towards this very base!" A random worker said.
"A signal? Tch, it must be those fools trying to reconquer their base. Haven't they learned their lesson already? Call the rebels, it is time to protect our territory!" She shouted, workers hiding all their equipment in a panic and contacting nearby rebel fighters.
"Attention! Our Rebel Military Base is about to be attacked by UN forces! Rebel mech pilots nearby, please head to these coordinates and intercept!"
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Post by Al Freakster the Big Cheese on Nov 9, 2016 22:46:50 GMT
Alex's recovery was tedious. Considering his intestines were almost vaporized from the cyborg's attack, it took some time. Good thing that Mars had healing stands. With some money leaving his pockets, Alexander didn't have much to do.
He decided to have a little stroll across the market, to find some clothes that were deemed fitting his new hairstyle. Markets were quite busy that day, blooming with merchants and buyers. The tall Russian made his way to the clothes market, a bit unsteady, still recovering from the beating the UN cyborg dealt to him. He looked around. Immediately dismissing shirts or pants, he continued his search. Finally, a lone stand fed his curiosity. The guy manning the small tent was looking pretty neat in a blue-ish three-piece suit. Immediatly, a red-ish sleeveless coat caught his eye. Another glance let him see an authentic-looking pirate tricorn. A brief bargain left Alex with less money, but with more nifty-looking clothes.
Immediately putting them on, he went on his way to the mech station, where the mechs had to be stored inside the chairs, as Princess Chloe helpfully wrote him when the group returned from the fight. Alex's expensive-looking phone rang. After picking it up and listening to the message, he broke into a quick pace. Even the stands couldn't heal everything, so running was not an option for Alex.
Finally, the Slav arrived at the mech base. Quickly checking his vitals, Alex activated the mech. With a quick search in mech's options, Alex set a marker and walked out of the base, now inside his trusty forty-armed Mecha. Today would be a very, very long day. Again.
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Post by killeroftheminge on Nov 9, 2016 23:14:30 GMT
What is the point to this little facade we call life when a man loses the thing that keeps him stable, keeps him sane? Frederick's eyes list lazily over the TV as it plays yet another episode of "I Love Lucy", the excitement that's found by America's sweetheart lost on the man as he simply stares at the flickering lights on screen. Once a soldier, Dukes realizes that he's nothing but a guard dog; there was no objections to that, don't get him wrong. If you needed some little guerrilla war snuffed out after you were too chickenshit to end it to begin with, he had no problem taking care of it. It's all he ever wanted, really. However, it slowly dawned on him that there were drawbacks to this status in life: what happens when there's total peace? Sure, there was a little part of the world that tried to break off from the UN every now and then, but that wasn't anything those regular S.O.B.s couldn't handle. You don't send in Dukes when you want a peace treaty signed, you send him in when you show them that there's no hope for a peace treaty, you send him in when you pissed off the head men in charge just one too many times. Unfortunately, when you do your job well, people start to recognize that and...just fall in line; and once they do that, well, the guard dog just sleeps...and sleeps...and sleeps.
He had thought every now and then that maybe he should just leave...easier said than done, surely, but with the type of men he had in his thrall and Powerbreaker's ability, Dukes could've made a run. Of course, the money was the only thing keeping him in...but that was slowly starting to lose its glisten and glitter. What's the point of making bank when there ain't any blood that's stained the bills?
Just as he was about to dive deeper and deeper into the recesses of his boredom, the doors to his complex slide open, revealing one of the big boys, the light from the hall casting his body into shadow. Par for the course with these government types, always keeping themselves shrouded. Dukes didn't pay him any mind, simply putting back another beer as he kept watching the red head flit across the screen.
"You're not supposed to drink with that medication you take, Dukes," the figure spoke, arms folded behind their back as they walked into the room.
"I'm not supposed to do a lot of things, but hey, ain't that my job?" Dukes spits out, scratching the stubble on his chin as he continues to watch. "That is, I do have a job don't I? or is the whole world obsessed with that peace among countries crap. If so, I ain't going to any ribbon cutting ceremony...shit's not my style. Why don't you come knocking when its World War, god willing."
"Actually, that's what I'm here about," the figure spoke, throwing a file onto the coffee table in front of the soldier. Dukes shoots a glance at the figure, then gazing at the folder, his eyebrow cocked as he opened it up. First thing he noticed was,
"Mars? What's this, you need me looking after a bunch of refugees now?"
"Major Lazer has been killed. Crause Barlow and Jack Price have failed to keep Military Base 19J out of the hands of an insurrection group."
Dukes took a glance back at the figure, just to make sure he had heard right. Lazer? Really? Guy wasn't the brightest bulb, sure, but the man had a colossus for a mech? Who could've taken him down out of some refugees? And then Barlow and Price too? Dukes wasn't the most social among the other Anti-Stand Users, hell he hated almost everyone, but even he knew those two were no pushovers. Dukes flipped through the files, taking a look at the status reports and the mission specs. As he saw some of the words, his eyes began to light up with a fire that had been put out for a long time.
"We've sent another User down to gain intel on the rebellion, but we need someone on the ground to take 19J back first. Once you do that, with the intel we receive, we'll be able to crush this rebellion before it gets out of hand. In order to do this, we need someone willing to show these troublemakers just what happens when you incite treason against the UN." The figure looks to Dukes as the man's body is shaking, his whole body quivering and sweating. "I trust you're fine with the mission?"
"Fine with it?" Dukes said, turning his face back to the figure, his eyes fully brightened as an insidious grin spreads across his face. There was no doubt about it: God looks out for us sometimes, and Frederick "Lonnie" Dukes just got the biggest answer to his prayers. "I'm fucking thrilled..."
As the clouds of Mars break apart, Dukes gazes out of the green tinted cockpit of the flagship. Along with him, his Fear Troop, the best of the best, or as he liked to say, the worst. Men that weren't afraid to look into the depths and raise a middle finger to it, men that weren't afraid to greet death and mayhem like an old friend and brother. Several of them had opted to pilot the military issued mechs alongside the main flagship, albeit with their own yellow and black color scheme painted on. Dukes would have preferred to fly in his own, but the big boys had told him that he needed to keep up the appearance of professionalism. He was hoping that he wouldn't have to keep that look up, which if the big boys were telling him the truth before, he wouldn't have to. Scratching his neck, he grinned as the base came into view and saw all of the new meat that were walking across, quickly manning any of the previously built weapons alongside some newly built defense mechanisms. Boy these rebels worked fast, just as he had hoped. When they got within radio distance, Dukes had his flight crew send the flagship into hover mode, bringing up the main comm link and having it synchronize with Military Base 19J. He had been told he had to offer some form of peace and surrender, but he was more hoping he could piss them off enough to attack first. That would be his cue, the big boys told him. Once the connection had been established, Dukes spoke:
"Greetings, this is Flagship F-219CD, Special Forces Commander of Platoon F Frederick 'Lonnie' Dukes speaking. Now, I know you're all probably getting very well adjusted to your surroundings inside of that base; unfortunately, that is property of the United Nations, and frankly, they're not too pleased with the turn of events that have been going on here. Now, why don't I get the leader of this little resistance movement on the other line, because frankly, my superiors are hoping to put this whole little thing behind them so they can move on with their lives. In other words, please put your mommy on the phone, because I've got some scolding I've got to do"
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Post by siegwardofcatarina on Nov 10, 2016 0:18:09 GMT
The rebellion had made great advances in the last battle. Base 19J was captured with most of it's files and equipment. It was the first step towards a free Mars and stand user rights. They had fought some tough opponents like Crause and Price and come out on top. But one or both of them were still around so that was a problem. Derek was in the hanger looking over his mech, Light Up The Night. The construction mech wouldn't hold up well in a real fight so Derek had to constantly make sure that the floodlights were in working order. The alarm sounded, and Chloe spoke about incoming hostiles.
"Well, we knew that they wouldn't let us keep this base without a fight." Derek remarked.
He got into his mech and started it up. The great machine roared to life as the floodlights lit up. The enemy sent a message asking them to surrender. At first Derek ignored it but then he recognized unit and the man in charge. It had been years since Derek was out of the military game, but even he knew about the Fear Troopers. He opened a channel to the others.
"Shizer, I think these guys are the Fear Troopers. They're the ones the UN sends in when they need someone crushed fast. These guys took out a whole army by themselves in a day. Brace yourselves, this is going to be a tough fight."
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Maester of Evil
Cuckold
Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd
"If you are lonely when you're alone, you are in bad company."
Posts: 657
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Post by Maester of Evil on Nov 10, 2016 1:06:05 GMT
The air was dense around the mine, thick with fumes and other noxious odours. Benny coughed as he slowly made his down the stretch of tunnels and grimaced in pain with each step. "Dammit all, where in the hell was that room located...?" Sliding up against the nearest wall Benny pants raspedly against the thudding pain in his chest and ribs, casting about for his target. He resumes walking, dragging his feet as he does. He trips and crashes onto his side, sending an explosion of pain throughout his body. "Fuck! God dammit all! When I find that Boer prick I think I'll break a few of his ribs, see how he likes it... then I'll cut his arms and legs off and have him crawl around like the festering stump he is... before I peel his face off, cut his head off... and mount it on my fucking wall!" He bangs his hand on the wall in front of him... and the sound of fist on metal rings through the tunnel. Benny looks up at the chair he had sit in what felt like ages ago; a feral smile spreading across his face, his eyes widening with menace and a chilling laugh escaping his throat. "I'm back in the game bitches. And this time? I'm playing for keeps..."----Later----The sound of rocket engines can heard in the distance. Loud and powerful, and inching closer and closer to the base with every second. The faint spec that accompanies this roar grows larger and larger, in fact exponentially larger than was to be expected as he approaches the base. The... thing crashes into the ground, throwing up 30 feet into the air and sending a deep shockwave through the ground and even into the newly acquire base. As the dust clears the thing, clearly a mech, climbs out of the crater and reveals its massive form: 40 meters tall and of a dark enough shade of blue as to be nearly black, its form bore resemblance to a strangely futuristic knight. Its head was akin to a futuristic great helm, its eyespots glowing bright white. But perhaps the most telling characteristic were the exhaust ports or semi-exhaust ports coming out of its back and elbows. Based on how big the smoke trail was it was safe to say it had more. The mech turns towards Monolit menacingly, having a good 20 metres on it in terms of height. It raises one hand, revealing another exhaust port...."S'up. How we doin' tonight. Names Benny Andante, perhaps you've heard of me? And this badass piece of machinery is called Pretty Hate Machine. Feel free to abbreviate that to PHM at your leisure." The mech waves at Monolit and Alex before turning towards the airship that has just entered into Rebel airspace, loud rock music blaring from the mech. PHM waves towards the vessel to try and get its attention and when its pilot is comfortable that he has it begins to make a strange motion with his hands; it looks almost like a fisherman drawing in a line from a fishing pole. But why would he-
The answer is abundantly clear when, instead of a fish, Benny reels in a big, juicy, metal middle finger towards this Duke of Hazard-ass fool. "Oh! Oh I'm... I'm so sorry! I just cannot for the life of me explain how this got here!" He turns to face Derek's mech when the old geezer arrives. "You're joking right? These guys are shit tier. weaklings that got shifted around because no one else wanted them. My old unit, that fucking Boer Crause included, wouldn't even have to fight them; they'd already be dead before they even knew there was a fight to be had." Benny gives off a confident guffaw as he maintains his middle finger towards the UN ship.----Meanwhile----"... We need forces covering the southern and eastern flanks around the base. Set up gun emplacements and tanks to provide covering fire should Force-Commander Dukes request it, but keep them at a safe distance; we can't risk the base sustaining anymore damage than it already has. Have the surveying and intelligence brigades further scout out the area; We need up to date environmental and geographical data if we want to adapt to this battle more closely. You have your orders, glory to the UN." Crause fires of a salute to his fellow officers who begin scrambling to begin there preparations. The Colonel resumes pouring over the updating holographic map of the region, an influx of data and deductions sifting through his mind like a machine gun. Stepping away from the command centre he begins to make his way towards the holographic telecommunication device to relay a fresh set of data to the Force-Commander; he's fully decked out in his formal and impeccably maintained officer's uniform, his face sculpted and groomed in excess of military protocol. He had just finished sending off his fallen soldiers back to earth for commemoration when word reached him; the Fear Troops and their leader, Force-Commander Frederick Dukes, were being brought in to crush the rebellion once and for all.
Truthfully Dukes and his men made Barlow's skin crawl, even if he couldn't argue or deny their effectiveness. Many had been... problem factors in their old units or were so burnt out as to be walking corpses more often then not. And the tactics they employed often skirted the edge of what the Codex allowed. Many could be compared to...
Demons.
The Colonel stops in the hallway a mere meter from the guarded door. Protocol had demanded that the cause of death by suicide be listed on Corporal Calvefort's coffin, something Crause didn't resist... but that didn't change the fact that something felt terribly wrong about the whole ordeal. "Why did you do it? What demons hounded you so thoroughly that you felt death was the only escape?" He hear's a cleared throat from one of the guards standing at attention, prompting Barlow to resume his jaunt towards the communications room. "Is everything alright Colonel?" One of the guards asks after finishing his salute.
"Yes, but thank you for your concern soldier. Is the communications room in use?" "No sir, go right on in." Crause nods to the two as he enters the room, pulling up the console to input the link code with the Force-Commander. After a minute or two of whining machinery and energy a holographic replica of the flagship's core appears, the Fear Troops attention focused on something outside his field of view... though the rock music was all he needed to guess what was going on. "Force-Commander Dukes this is Colonel Crause Barlow. I trust you've reached our adversaries and, by the sound of things the man I whose dossier I sent you is amongst them? I cannot understate the danger this man poses Force-Commander. He killed dozens of the soldiers defending the base and six of my own people when I confronted him and his comrades,. He is unpredictable, ruthless; a... demon..." That last word struggles out of the Colonel's mouth before he shakes his head back to the matter at head. "We are currently working on dossiers for the other rebels we have thus far encountered but the process is slow. Bennett Andante's was faster only by virtue of my own personal experience with him, so I again cannot understate his danger; the crimes and atrocities he's committed are one of the reasons he's planet-side to begin with. That aside I will also send along updated geographically information pertinent to your engagement, alongside artillery support along your southern and eastern flanks about 10 miles out should you request it.
The Colonel salutes Dukes. "I leave the rest to you. Command will keep abreast of your progress. Glory to the UN." The hologram dissipates. Crause now stands alone in the room. With a deep breath he turns around to return to his duties at the command post. "What makes men like that? What pushes them to that extreme and... does that fate await us all?" |
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Post by killeroftheminge on Nov 10, 2016 3:01:28 GMT
While Dukes awaited for a response from the rebellion commander (he scoffed a bit at someone in charge of such a small group being given that proper of a name), more and more mechs began to arrive on the scene, no doubt to fend him and his men off. Curiosity enticed him to take a look at the competition, and sure enough, these rebels did not disappoint. He first off saw...was that 40 arms? No way, how did that machine even function with all of those components? He figured if it had all of those components that it was a close-range melee type mech, which gave Frederick and his men a bit of an advantage with their hit and run tactics, not to mention Fear Factory's capabilities, but he didn't want to get his hopes up on using that, as he figured these rebels wouldn't be lasting very long against his men. After that he takes a look at some sort of heavy lifting mech, noticing floodlights all around the machine. Curious, he made an inward note to keep an eye on that machine, as he wasn't sure exactly of what kind of capabilities it could have; and this mech was followed by...what, some kind of knight? A little on the nose, but hey, he wasn't gonna argue with what these punks chose as their coffins.
He was just about to send off another warning for their commander to respond when another message was incoming on his monitor, this time from a UN line. He opened it up on his monitor, revealing...Crause. Dukes rolled his eyes at hearing the man's voice, hoping he wouldn't have to sit through another of those long winded speeches about honor on the battlefield, or the limitations the Codex places upon them and how Dukes should follow the statutes placed forth and blah blah blah, he could never get through more than 2 minutes of the speech before he was ready to dig his own eyes out. Thankfully, this wasn't a message concerning Dukes questionable tactics, but rather some sort of dossier file on...what was it, Andante? He checked through the mission briefing again and found the reports, taking another look through. Huh, Benny Andante, formerly under Crause's command, killed several of the former soldiers protecting Base 19J....hmm, something about he was a demon? Dukes figured he wouldn't send the info if he didn't think it was important, so he made sure to take a mental note; not to say he was too worried. After all, Dukes had his own thrall of demons at his command, with international crime reports that made this Benny guy look like a joke. He looked back down to see that the knight mech had flipped off his flagship, and quickly deduced that was probably Andante.
Well, you got balls, i guess, I can give you that much....can't wait to cut em off ya...
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Post by Kacey on Nov 10, 2016 5:16:12 GMT
In the midst of finally finishing replacing the old wires with new ones he just bought from a week ago, the Robot's radio sparked to life. This surprised Alejandro who was just getting comfortable with the constant clanking and various sounds from only his tools "Attention! Our Rebel Military Base is about to be attacked by UN forces! Rebel mech pilots nearby, please head to these coordinates and intercept!". The machine sputtered to life, it's lights and the roaring engine shook the pilot seat "W-woah!" He dropped some of his tools from the pilot cockpit. A set of coordinates appeared on the main hub of the pilot seat "Huh, guess this thing wants to fight, huh." Alejandro sat on the pilot seat, looking over the sea of buttons and other high tech stuff in it.
"Well fuck it." Alejandro soon began to press all random buttons.
Auto-Pilot mode engaged
"Well that works." Alejandro smiled, placing both arms behind his head as he rested his feet on the robot hub, letting the machine drive itself to the coordinates. Although it was nice that he got the machine running Alejandro felt like he is forgetting some-
A loud crash was heard from the top of the pilot cockpit "Aw shit." He cursed, now looking over the damage the robot was doing to the abandoned storage area by simply getting up and walking through the building itself.
"This definitely needs more work."
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Post by alren on Nov 10, 2016 17:17:02 GMT
After the fall of the base, Morgan separated from Derek and Josh to head to his crappy apartment and patch up his gunshot wound. On the way to the stolen bike he ran into the biker that he'd caused to crash, taking great satisfaction in his torn up appearance. That'll teach him to watch where he's going, though Morgan had to admit that he was pretty ballsy to follow him into a warzone, he didn't feel like getting an ear full from the guy so he took off before the biker could close the distance between them. Recovery was pretty boring but was made easier with Words As Weapons playing maid for Morgan. Having a long ranged stand had its advantages. It catered to his every need, he never had to leave the bed except to shower. Washing yourself with your stand was too strange a concept for Morgan. When it came to food, Morgan had it sneak through the nearby alleys to ambush the unsuspecting, stealing their wallets and using the money to order pizza from Totino's. 20 minutes guaranteed indeed, Morgan was never hungry for long. Although his main complaint was how the pizza always seemed a little too salty... Morgan didn't dwell on it too much, having pizza fuel his recovery was dream come true. Especially when someone else was paying the bill.
But all good dreams inevitably come to an end. Thoughts of the base always dwelled in his mind, the haunting memory of the soldier blowing his own brains out and how that Colonel Crause just sat there and watched. Morgan just sat there and watched too but at least Crause could have done something. He was the commanding officer right? How could he just let a group of stand users waltz into their base and slaughter them, hardly batting an eye. Speaking of moral things such as "justice", "order", and "duty". Dammit! The last thing Morgan needed was to be reminded of those ideals, the very ones thrown at him as justification for shipping his ass to Mars. It was the just thing to do, it was for the sake of order.
I'm only doing my duty, Morgan. You have to accept that the law is on my side.
One week in and Morgan figured that it was time to do something productive, he was dying of boredom in the cramped space of his apartment. Not to mention he needed something to keep thoughts of the base out of his head. Throwing his patched leather jacket over his shoulders, Morgan left for the mines. It was a long, cold walk but one that Morgan didn't mind as much as the first time he made the trek. The cold still bothered him. It was a good sign. The elevator seemed to be repaired after the incident with Kavinsky, but just to be on the safe side Morgan located and stood by the emergency brake switch before taking the elevator down to the depths of the mines to that open chamber full of chairs. It was just as he remembered it, he could hardly notice that any chairs were missing. He heard that the chairs were responsible for the mechs the resistance had come upon. That there was some sort of secret panel on them that brought out a shiny, new war machine ready for battle. A strange anxiety came over Morgan as he looked over the chairs, he didn't know which one was meant for him. All of them looked the same and none really stood out, but at the same time all of them seemed to be calling to him. Begging him to come over and hit that secret switch to unveil their true form. He was about to just sit on the closest one until he remembered.
He already picked a chair. It was in a pile of broken pieces scattered across the floor near the wall on the right side of the room. Morgan was hesitant to go over to them, but he did so, poking through the pile for where that switch may be. After a few minutes, Morgan finally found the switch and he put his finger on it without applying pressure.
Do i wanna do this? The chair's fucked so what if the mech comes out fucked up too? Morgan mulled it over as a searing pain began to spread over his finger. He dropped the switch and inspected his finger to find it slightly burned, "What the fuck was that?" Morgan shouted as the chair began shifting and from below it a hanger door opened up, nearly swallowing Morgan into its depths. Scrambling backwards away from the whirring opening, Morgan saw the mech arise from the platform. Once it came to its full height and the platform stopped the chest opened and revealed a cockpit, a cable was lowered from the opening to allow Morgan entry. The seat felt right to him, comfy but supportive. The console was strangely confusing with the amount of buttons and switches, though the helmet and skeletal looking gloves jumped out at him. He was about to put them on until a flashing light on the main console got his attention.
AI system deactivated //// Audio weapon system malfunctioning/////P.p.p.p.p.Please locate audio emission device
Morgan didn't know what all of that meant but he figured it's be best to fix those issues before proceeding, smashing the chair apparently was a bad idea. Abandoning the mech for now, Morgan left for the scrap yard. Impressed with size of the place, Morgan figured it'd be easy to find what he was looking for. How hard would it be to find what he was looking for?
After hours of searching Morgan was set to give up and just use the mech as is until he ran into a familiar face. That bastard Girogio from the Kavinsky incident. He was tinkering with something another, giving Morgan the perfect opportunity to get his revenge for ditching him. He walked forward, primed to kick whatever Giorgio was working on until he noticed it was a speaker, exactly what Morgan needed. "Heya buddy." Morgan said in an overly friendly manner, contrasting his usual tone and scowl. "What'cha working on? A speaker? That's real cool but I think I got something even better for you to work on. You ever work on a mech before? Come with me will all the speakers you can bring and i'll give you unlimited access to my mech." Seeing the guys face light up, Morgan knew he had him for the day. He spouted some sort of technobabble as he extended some sort of trendrils from his fingers that seemingly absorbed the speaker and others as they collected what they needed from the scrap yard. Morgan also swiped up some cans of spray paint from the scrap yard, he didn't like the gun metal of the machine and felt that it needed a new paint job. The trek back was nothing but musings and growing anticipation as they grew closer to the mines. Upon arrival showing the mech Giorgio lit up even more and went into a flurry of motion as he inspected and discovered every nook and cranny the mech had. Morgan could hardly understand what the guy was talking about but tried to pay attention. He helped apply the speaker systems to the shoulders of the Mech, listening to Giorgio's instructions carefully. The end result wasn't pretty but it was functional, the speakers let out a bombastic sound which echoed heavily up the elevator shaft. Morgan and Giorgio were left deafened for a few minutes after the test. At the end of the day Morgan sent Giorgio on his way, thanking him profusely for the help and politely letting him know that he was off of Morgan's shit list, which earned Morgan a confused look. Morgan looked over the mech, fatigue coming over him as he realized how late it was. One last thing was in order though as Morgan shook two cans of spray paint and approached the mech with a wild amusement in his eyes.
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One week later
Over the Martian desert a figure could be leaping high into the air and landing, shooting small plumes of red sand upon each landing. Once it got closer and closer to Base 19J the other mechs gathered before the Fear Trooper's warship, the others could see a mech spray painted with a black base with graffiti in the form of stylized words, anarchist markings, and explicit criticism of the government. The machine leaped into the air again with a roar of its thrusters, it flipped and landed gracefully in front of the others. It looked up to the warship and joined in Benny's bird flipping. A crackle from the mech's bombastic speakers preludes Morgan's diabolical laughter as the titan shook with each bark and dust was kicked up from the reverb. "Nice warship, you must be overcompensating for something you UN fucks." Morgan shouted. Turning his mech around to see his gathered allies he noticed something odd. They weren't that big when he was sprinting from the base...but it seemed like Morgan's mech was the smallest of the ones gathered. "W-what?! Why did I get shafted in size?" He asked astonished by the titans that towered over Morgan's messily 8 meter tall war machine. The comforting words of "Its not the size that matters but how you use it." sprang to mind but he found little solace in it. With a sigh, Morgan announced the name of his mech while staring at the pinned up photo hanging in the cockpit., a reminder to what he was trying to get back.
"Wordsmith!"
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Post by killeroftheminge on Nov 10, 2016 20:01:57 GMT
Huh, 5 mechs? Well now...that's getting a little crowded
Dukes lets a smile overcome his face as his body quivers ever more violently, he scratches at his neck again as he can feel his shirt riding up from Powerbreaker appearing on his back, its pulsing tendrils matching the pulsing of his heart as he saw 5 battle machines ready to be torn apart by him and his boys. The other men in the flagship turn their heads back to the screen showing the mechas in front of Military Base 19J, all of them knowing how the Force-Commander can get when he gets this excited. Dukes manages to soothe the beast within, pressing the comms speaker once again as he delivers a new message, this time from the loudspeaker so everyone could hear it.
"Attention, rebel fighters. As was stated previously, we require communication from your Commander in order to get negotiations under way. Failure to comply...well, failure to comply is gonna result in some rather 'nasty' consequences. So, here's the deal, since I'm feeling particularly generous: Put your Commander on in the next 5 minutes. If noone responds, we will consider one of you to be the Commander in charge and hold you personally responsible. I'm thinking I'll pick you, small fry," Dukes says, acknowledging Morgan's Wordsmith. "And, you will be held accountable for ALL transgressions against the UN, and for the unlawful capture of that there military base, as well as the death of Major Bunji Lazer. In which case, total and COMPLETE annihilation is what you'll be facing...so, do me a favor, kiddies: please, PLEASE, do not comply. Have a good 5 minutes, because you're desperately gonna need it if I don't get what I need,"
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Post by siegwardofcatarina on Nov 10, 2016 21:54:04 GMT
Benny was pretty overconfident. It wasn't Derek's problem if his super elite ass got in trouble because of it. He reminded him way too much if Alo for his liking. "Nice of them to give us a whole five minutes. Anyone got any plan or preference of attack? If you get their attention for a bit I think I can launch a big attack on the flagship."
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Post by alren on Nov 10, 2016 23:00:02 GMT
Morgan frowned when the commanding officer of the flagship acknowledged Wordsmith's small stature but it immediately turned around when he labeled Morgan the rebels Commander if glorified school teacher Chloe didn't get on the horn to "negotiate" with the guy. He liked the idea of being Commander Wordsmith; liberator of Mars and beacon of hope to stand users everywhere. It had a certain ring to it.
Listening to Derek come in over the airwaves, Morgan started to formulate a plan. He opened a channel with Derek's mech and the others around him. Morgan also shut off his mic's connection to the speakers, instead electing to play some music to fire up the enemy.
"You want a plan? Here's my plan. Let em think i'm actually the commander so I can draw their fire and you guys bring them down. I'm pretty fast and agile in Wordsmith so i'll be hard to hit so don't worry bout that, just focus on taking em out and send them home in bodybags." The plan was simple and it would boost Morgan's ego a bit after the crushing defeat in the size category of his mech and it'd split the enemy's attention and prioritize Morgan as a target. From what limited experience Morgan had with Wordsmith he figured he'd be agile enough to avoid most conventional attacks so acting as bait was fine with him. "Also what we pulled at the base should work again, man. Just let me know when you wanna blow these fucker up." Morgan directed at Derek. Morgan felt that he could rely on him if it came down to it.
Judging from the FoF system in Wordsmith; Benny, Alex, Alejandro, and Derek were the only ones to show up for the base's defense. Benny was kinda frighting to Morgan, his brutal and animistic smile still as fresh in his mind, it'd be problematic to work with that guy, Morgan would just stay out of his way. Alejandro was definitely someone to watch out for, nearly a team killing fucktard when he chased Kavinsky down and nearly splattered Natalie with his car. Morgan opened another private channel to Alejandro so the others would be left out.
"Hey there, Friend. You feel like being a team player this time? No splattering allies and ditchin' them?" Morgan jabbed. Giorgio was lucky enough to get off Morgan's shit list by helping him with his mech but Alejandro would have to do something to prove himself, he was also lucky Morgan was giddy with the new paintjob of Wordsmith and his upcoming plan or else he'd probably get blasted by Wordsmith's speakers.
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