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#1 DarkJuno

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Posted 04 October 2004 - 04:04 PM

OOC: -ahem- All right, in case no body saw the last post (erm, that would be mine) from last time, the little tour group was walking off to the Myths and Tales section of the Exhibit...so here. :prime:


Helena Shirowa & Aya Lydell


Peering around the various backboards and models in the slightly smaller hallway this particular bit of the exhibition was located at, Aya sighs a bit, blowing a piece of misshapen blonde hair from her face as it was currently tickling her nose. While the scene of Ms. Shirowa quite frankly upstaging the tour guide then sheepishly denying it modestly was amusing, this tour really was boring - she almost missed those algebraic equations at this point, after having heard fact after fact hammered into her head regarding this ridiculous war. While she certainly acknowledged that not having been there might give her a different view, she couldn't understand why people blew up in such a way to plunge the whole planet into a war. While she was probably being naieve about the whole situation, it just seemed stupid for her country to even consider sending troops to help a small nation which wasn't even an official ally - all it accomplished was getting it itself sucked into the conflict. Her uncle, who unlike her Dad did see some action in the war, had always told her horror stories of war, and she for one was glad she hadn't been born two years sooner, as she had wished once as a 13 year old.

As it stood, her memories of the war were fuzzy, given her age at the time...any older, and she might remember more.

Still, as she walks through the elegant hall marred by the various pictures and models of tales and battlefield legends, she stops, her eyes catching a particular, 3 foot model surrounded by a rather elaborate display. Raising an eyebrow, she steps forward, looking up and down at the Mobile Battle Armor the model was meant to represent, her mind so starved for something interesting she wondered about it.

Unlike the other models, photos, and tech specs that were scattered across the exhibit, this one was...different. While in some places still as bulky and military as the others, this white, unmarked model was a lot sleeker and more human then the other bipedal machines, and almost had an air of grace and beauty to it. Glancing aroung with her wide blue eyes, she cranes her neck to see the title of this exhibit, reading aloud the banner as she saw it.

"The Legend of Shining Dust - Angel and Demon of the Battlefield. Boy, that's...hokey..."

"Indeed, it is..." Aya slightly shivers as she hears Ms. Shirowa's comment, who apparently had been standing behind her for enough time now. Turning, the student notes that the history teacher looks rather...irritated for some reason, as she frowns at the display. The old bearded man notes this and walks over, commenting jovially,

"Ah, I see you've stumbled onto our showcase of this section - the scale model of the MBA this so-called Shining Dust used in the war!" Furrowing her eyebrows somewhat and no noticing that several of her other students were now begining to crowd around this particular display, Helena sniffs, shoving aside all thoughts of inaccuracy that were flowing in her mind and retorts,

"Shining Dust is nothing more then a battlefield myth, as there's never been enough evidence to support such a mercenary pilot ever existed..."

"Ah, but we have pictures and spoken confessions of people who claim to have seen her fight on the field- "

"That matters little, Helena interupts rather swiftly, though she inwardly curses at herself for being rather hasty, "...pictures can easily be misinterpreted, and many of these so called confessions were from dellusional soldiers injured from battle." With that, she motions to a nearby tv monitor showing an grainy video of a soldier being carried away on a stretcher, yelling and screaming "Devil Machine" as massive MBA's fought in the not too far distance.

"Clearly, he is not in the right frame of mind, and I doubt anyone else was..."

"That might be true...but you have to admit, it's a rather popular subject hm?" With that, he motions over to the exhibit, as Helena turns and blinks dumbfounded. For the first time all day, her students were genuinely itnerested in something, as they looked over all the items, including the horribly inaccurate model. With a sigh, she admits,

"Well, I suppose so...myths are always poplar entertainment..."

#2 Guest_Zoranine_*

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Posted 07 October 2004 - 03:27 PM

Ooc: Sorry, I'm slow.

Zeng


"Not only entertainment, but a look into what life was truly like for those involved in the war. If people were so delusional that they began to see ‘Demonic’ or ‘Angelic’ like mobile suits on the battlefield, it should certainly say something about their mental conditions," Ms. Zeng added, her voice raised so as to address her class, in particular. "We know machines are machines. Fabrications by people, controlled by people. It is the human psyche that gives the machine a personality and appearance of a demon or angel."

She hoped that her students would take a hint. Those that had the war as their novel topic would need to explore the conditions and stability of the people fighting in the war, as well as the general myths and fairy tales circulating throughout the war that may have also appeared in their novels.

Hazel eyes drifted back to the model of Shining Dust. For a brief moment, in her mind’s eye, she could see the circular form of a golden disc, the light reflecting off it in such a way as to create a rainbow on the compact disc’s surface. The sound of her students, and the tour guide’s voice seemed to drown out. Her vision blurred, eyes not focusing on anything. Zeng could see a rusty metal door – an enemy mobile suit was walking down the streets of the city she was in. An underground hall… She was following a woman. The computer screen, the blueprints, the mission information. An explosion.

"Ms. Zeng?"

Zeng blinks, eyes quickly refocusing on her environment, as she looks towards the student’s beckoning voice. "Yes, Felicia?"

"When are we getting to the Ancient Egypt exhibits?" one of the girls in her class asked, arms folded over her chest in slight irritation and boredom.

Obviously, she wasn’t enjoying the war exhibit as much as the others were. But, that was expected. Only a select few of her students had novels that related to the war. Other students had chosen novels relating to such time periods as ancient Egypt, Greece, Rome, Medieval, Renaissance, the First and Second World Wars… the list went on and on.

"Well, if we don’t see them along the tour, you can always use your free time after lunch to visit those exhibits," she replies with a smile. The girl gave a bit of a groan before turning and heading back over to her group of friends who were making faces at the grueling pictures of bloodied and screaming victims in a hospital wing.

Sighing, Zeng moves towards one of the photos off to the side, steering slightly away from the tour group and the students. The black and white photo was mounted on a plaque, handing from a nail in the wall. Mobile suits were lined up row upon row within a hanger, mechanics and pilots moving between the catwalks and the suits. Zeng leans in slightly, a particular figure catching her eye. Squinting at the tiny blurred figure, she feels a sense of recognition overcome her. She knew this person. The longer she stared at the figure, the more she felt the blurry, pixilated form took on a familiar shape.



#3 Goose

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Posted 08 October 2004 - 06:02 AM

Thom was following the crowd, and was bored, so he daydreamed.

*begin day dream*

He dreamed he was fighting in the wars that the tour guide was talking about. Thom was getting all the glory, but he also saw all the blood that was invloved. He saw the people dying, and the children crying out for help, but he was helpless to do anything about it. Thom was being swallowed up by the media, and he saw the kids fade away into the crowd. It was devastating for him to see. Then somebody knocked him in the arm, and he was back in the museum.

*end day dream*

Thom looked at all this stuff, this was once real and for all he knew, it would happen once more, this time it could really be him on the battle field, although he highly doubted it.

#4 Guest_Zoranine_*

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Posted 16 November 2004 - 04:17 PM

Ooc: Finally managed to steal some time away to write something for this. DJ, would we be able to jump ahead? - Unless, of course, there's something else important you want to include in this section of the tour.

Zeng



"Moving along."
The tour guide’s voice steals her attention away from the mounted picture. Blinking, she stands upright and scans the students to ensure they are following the guide as he leads then down the hall. The sound of sneakers and high heels echo through the corridor as the group of two teachers and several dozen students make their way to the next exhibit. Already, the image of the blurred figure had fled her mind.

Peering around the next large, marble pillar as the tour guide comes to a halt, Zeng sets her eyes upon a large rectangular showcase. Within the tall glass boxes, set side by side, were human uniforms and battle armor from opposing forces. A bright, white light in the top of the display case illuminated the bodiless shells making small tears on the uniforms, scuffs on the armor, and imperfections on both noticeable.

"Ground forces typically wore this uniform and armor," The guide motions towards the camouflage and tinted green armor plates as his voice suddenly breaks the gentle whisper between students as he explains the several rows of illuminated showcases. A large backpack sat in the corner of the display case, with a helmet carefully set atop it.

"…While generals and tactics commanders would wear this type of uniform." He gestures towards the grey suits. Matching grey buttons fastened down the right side of the chest, with a colourful array of pins and decorations pinned to the left. Even a grey cap, with a black rim hung from the side.

"Pilots of mobile suits of aircraft carriers tended to wear similar uniforms to the commanders."

Zeng gazes up at the display as the tour guide continues to show and explain the various uniforms, who they belong to, what they were used for, and every so often, throwing in interesting little tidbits to keep the students awake and interested. A navy blue uniform with a black zipper on the right side of the chest presented itself to her eyes. It was very similar in design to the generals and commanders, yet lacked the assortment of pins and decorations the commander’s uniforms had. Black boots and gloves fit the lifeless form of the headless mannequin, with an all too familiar space helmet placed where the head should be. In fact, the helmet looked very similar to the one she had worn at MSRCO, but it was identical to the one she had seen Hawke wear in the picture he had sent her.

The very thought of him left her drained. She had been his partner at the Mobile Suit Research and Construction Organization drawing and designing new and custom features for the mobile suits he designed. Of course, that was until the company shipped off a handful of their men and women to serve in the war effort. The night before was the last time she remembered seeing him.

She breathes a heart-felt sigh, one that was easily drowned out by the tour guide’s voice. Gazing around the museum, at the other patrons and displays, she finds her view crowded by collective group of students. They had no idea what had gone on during those years of the war, and for that, she was grateful.



#5 DarkJuno

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Posted 28 November 2004 - 12:10 AM

OOC: Blargh. Sorry, things have been crazy in real life, and even here. @_@ I'll try to post more, but with Finals starting up soon...so, sorry for the cruddy post.

Helena Shirowa

With a silent, un-noticed sigh of relief, the History teacher nods as she turns her head away from the overly melodramatic display, ignoring the still ranting screams of the wounded soldier on the nearby, fuzzy video. Shutting her emerald pools momentarily, Helena brings her left hand up to her forehead, brushing away the strands of violet from her face with a shake of her head. While it was nice that at least her kids were piqued with interest in the war, she had no idea that it had this particular exhibit as part of the attraction. Still, she supposes that what they don't know can't possibly hurt them...

With a shrug, she walks forward, glancing at the mixed uniforms displayed, noticeably flinching at the sight of one in particular that had been incorrectly placed together. Still, she had already brought far more attention to herself then she would have liked, so this time she keeps quiet, isntead only feigning interest at the lifeless pieces of cloth and fabric within the vacum sealed glass cases. She has to admit, despite the fact that they were in the middle of bloody, hopeless fights, humans always managed to find something to differentiate themselves and to adorn, as she sniffs at the overly fancy Officers' uniforms, particularly at one particular faction's ridiculously high boots. It really didn't matter how a uniform looked...in the end, everyone was just some figure in a cast of millions, a dandy or not. Heck, she would have stayed in her jeans if not for Natalie's incessent whi...

Helena stops, shaking her head.

"There I go again..." she thinks, shoving the thoughts to the back of her mind as she glances around the large hall. From the looks of things, there was still a fair bit of time left to spend in the exhibit, so with a forced smile, she steps forward, ready to join up with the two classes and the other teacher...except that, from out of the corner of her eye, she catches a glint of...something. Pausing and stepping over to a small board filled with satellite images of a specific area, the history teacher ever so carefully peers out from the corner or her eye at the exhibit across the wide hall. Like the disembodied Mobile Armor head earlier, there was a set of actual other pieces from dismembered suits lying for display - mostly inconsequential pieces, from a few armor plates to a hollow cylinderical casing lying on its end. Her hunch was correct, as within the group of naieve tourists and museum goers, was a rather suspicious, aloof individual in a long coat lurking about the pieces. Narrowing her eyes, Helena casually walks forward, keeping an eye out on her class while looking at this suspicious man.

Unfortunately, the man, not noticing her or seemingly any of the people around him in particular, suddenly lurches, tearing his coat wide open with a tear of fabric and in a flash, reveals several dozen sticks of dynamite strapped to his waist. Naturally, as the crowd sees this, there's much screaming and panicking, though Helena merely raises and eyebrow and ponders, "My, how...cliched..." Still, as panic sets in, the crazed man yells out, his deep voice filled with rage,

"Death! Death to all Neutrals!!!" His ragged hair flails about his pale face, his bloodshot eyes scanning about as his calloused fingers scramble to the switch on his chest. Gritting her teeth, Helena ducks around behind a nearby pillar and slowly creeps forward, as the rather disoriented nutjob had a tough time getting to the crude explosive device on his person - which essentially destroyed much of the tension from his threat. Still, given evnough time he would quite easily make good on his promise, so the violet haired woman knew she had to act...just, not too obviously. Pity too, since this one was a piece of cake to be rid of.

Stepping out quietly from one of the other pillars, Helena slowly creeps forward, pausing to grab a nearby metal rod from a display, and ever so silently stands behind the crazed man. By now, he had finally reached the buttons on his vest, and he looks up at the crowd to haughtily yell out one last time.

"I'll see you in Hell!!!!!"

"After you." Surprised, the man drops his hand from the panel for a split second from the sweet reply - more then enough time for Helena to grab the man's shoulder and spin him around to face her. No sooner had the maniac stopped his revolution did Helena lash out with a straight jab to the man's jaw, the rod in her other hand, useless. Fortunately for her and everyone else in the museum, that is all it takes, as the man falls backwards onto the hard marble floor with a thud. Blinking and feigning surprise, Helena shakes her hand in the air, wincing in imaginairy pain as security finally arrives, running around from a corner and comign to a halt, dumb founded by the sight they see before them. With a smile, the teacher comments,

"Uh...lucky shot, I guess..."

#6 Guest_~Sesshoumaru~_*

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Posted 17 February 2005 - 09:07 AM

OOC:what do I have to do to join

#7 DarkJuno

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Posted 17 February 2005 - 09:41 AM

Wow, this is old. x_x

But like I said in your thread - read the rules in all three RPG forums. They explain everything.

#8 DarkLink_14

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Posted 02 March 2005 - 12:47 PM

DyneMechanics. It is the world's largest multinational corporation. It has monopolized the high-tech mechanics industry. Its power and influence is far reaching, farther than most people believe possible. As the old saying goes, "Pay a man enough, and he will walk barefooted through hell," and DM has more than enough money. Over the years, DM has used its influence to acquire key government contracts. Indeed, for all intents and purposes, the government is little more than a puppet in its hands. They lift sanctions and ease guidelines. Their finances are little more than storybook lies told to an unwitting public. Records of all their research projects, clientelle, and anything else of interest is non-existant. Whatever competitors have surfaced are soon quelled through hostile takeovers, viscious scandals, or some other misfortune.

DyneMechanics owes its great fortune to war, as so many weapons manufactureers do. In the early years of the war, combatants mounted heavy weapons onto heavy construction equipment. Though crude, the resiliance of the construction gear, combined with the mounted firepower was a potent combination. The first mobile battle suits were born. Intelligent weapons manufactureers quickly caught on and the early BattleMechs went into production. These huge robots soon became familiar sights on battlefields, originally supported by traditional field vehichles. As mech development advanced, specialized mechs were created to support the Medium, Heavy, and Assault class mechs, which were usually on the front lines. Newer Scout and Light class mechs were soon seen as bad omens, heralds of great battles to come.
Eventually these monolithic battlemachines gave way for the more elegant mobile battle suits. These machines made use of advanced gyroscopic technology to increase speed and agility, eventually reaching articulation and precision never before seen in a humanoid robot of their size. Although the battlesuits were not originally designed to replace the battlemech, the advent of newer, light-weight weaponry was able to overcome the battlesuit's initial light-weight chasis capacity and surpass the Battlemech as the dominating force on the battlefield.

DyneMechanics was the leader in technological development since the beginning. Although they were not the first to develop the Battlemech, DM was the first to develop a full-scale Assault mech, the largest class of battlemech, each weighing at least one hundred tons. DyneMechanics made sure it stayed on top by systematically eliminating its early competition. Indeed, the first field test of their new equipment typically involved an assault on a rival corporation's factory or corporate buiding. DM was also a fierce financial competitor. As competition began to thin, they played clients, on both sides of the fence, against each other in a bidding race for the latest, most advanced weaponry avaliable. And DyneMechanics prospered.

During a war, few have time to question the morality of a weapons manufactureer, and after the war, it has embedded itself too deep for most to care about its past disgressions. Most do not, but some do. Some people see DM for what it is, the puppetteer that molds the government in a way that will suit it the most. There are many underground resistances, most seperated by their view on how this problem is to be solved. Some see it as their job to constantly push for change, hoping their efforts will eventually lead to change. Others think its best to kill the weed right down to the root in one fell swoop. They are simply waiting for the right moment. Simply waiting...

10...

Darien Anderis. He is a moderate in the world of anti-DM movements. He works in espionage, hoping his subtle efforts would eventually cripple the beast, but he is skilled in the use of a wide variety of weaponry, and has even been working on upgrading his old mech from the wars. Others, he knew, had fleets of refurbished mechs stockpiled for "when the day came."

9...

Darien was devoted to his cause. He has been knee deep in it since his late teens, just after the wars began. His parents were killed in an enemy assault on their small town. Darien was badly wounded. Fortunately, the remnants of the fighters the assault was meant to destroy found him in a search for survivors. Although he was free to leave after he recovered, he decided to stay and fight those that had killed his parents.

8...

At first, the resitance group had him working on demolitions projects, destroying shipments of weapons and supplies. During a mission, it was discovered that the caravan was secretly transporting mechs to the enemy's mobile field base. The team struck hard, using the explosives meant for the cargo on the accompanying armored vehichles.

7...

Today, Darien is infiltrating a local DM cororate building. It is suspected that DyneMechanics is developing a new type of missile weapon. New weapons were nothing out of the ordinary, so Darien didn't think much of it. Unless it was a nuclear bomb that could fit in your pocket, odds are it wasn't anything to worry about.

6...

He decided to infiltrate under the guise of a young executive. Informants had provided information on security. He would get into the executive parking lot, that was simple enough. The security camera had a 15 second blindspot, more than enough. The regular janitor was on leave and it would be easy to pose as a temp. From there, access to the executive floors would be easy. A quick change of clothes and he would blend in with the rest of the faceless executives. The executives took a break for lunch about 20 minutes after his infiltration. He would hijack one of their empty computers.

5...

Accessing the computer was automated. The computer expert of his resistance group, the Silent Eagles, had been working on a drilling program. The program is downloaded onto the host, from which it begins to dismantle the system's security programs. Allowing the user free access to the computer's naked innards. Network connections are just as easily hacked and soon he finds the files he's looking for. Schematics, diagrams, even virtual test data.

4...

The missile is an interesting weapon. Laser guided over extended range, launchable from a standard battle armor missile pack. The missile omits a signal as it flies that hides it from radar and other tracking systems. An interesting weapon, but nothing devastating. Nothing special. Time to get out.

3...

He exited the office dressed once again in his janitor's uniform. The executive lunch break had just ended, and Darien slipped by unnoticed, then he remembered what he forgot. The drilling program needed to run a rebuild in order to hide his presence. He closed his eyes for a moment, knowing the silent alarm would soon be tripped. He could make a run for it now, and blow any cover he had left, or he could risk it, and slowly make his way out, where all the buiding's security would wait for him.

2...

He ran.

1...

What else can be said? Even he panics sometimes. He made it past the door just as the security force was building the line. He busrt out the door, guards at the door grabbed him from behind and pulled him away from the building, hoping to have the arrest done out of sight. Darien was obviously disappointed. Then it came to him. It was instinct, something was gonna happen. Something...big.

0

It started like a low rumble behind him. He thinks the security force felt it two. It happened fast. They felt it, and less than a second later, the building is erupting, like a volcano in a ball of fire. The sound of strained metal screeched for an echoing moment before it snapped, concrete walls are shattered by the intense oscillation before the supports disintegrate. Darien and his captors were sent sprawling to the floor as crumbling pieces of stone and dry wall fall around them like small meteors crashing to earth. The wind was knocked out of him, but it had all happened before he was bound. And once again, he ran.


There were twelve other explosions like that one Darien saw. One at each of DyneMechanics' executive buildings. Thirteen more explosions eliminated factories. The only known remaining DM facilities were storage buildings where battlesuits were held before shipment to the customer. But of course, DM was not stupid enough to leave all its assets out in the open...

Moments later, all regular broadcast channels were cut, the signal pirated to send a message to the nation. A single man, dressed in military fatigues. A man of some rank apparantly. He spoke.

The time for change has come. The Red Falcons have started it, and you will all bear witness to it. When David slew the Giant, he was recognized as a hero. So too, shall we. We are the patriots. We are the ones who take the fight to our enemy to end the silent tyranny and free us. Free all of us. At this moment, two stars of assault mechs are approaching each of DM's known storage facilities. We will capture their technology with the weapons they built their dirty empire upon and we will use it against them. The Red Dawn has come, and when that sun rises, the lines will be drawn and our great nation will embark on a new age. A free age. And we shall lead it.

Then static...




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