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Gaia Dryte
The Venue

He was awaken, technically anyway. The way he zoned out, watching the video on his screen only in name. He was in practiced dozed off in the ways that mattered. The approach of the other man in turn took a few moments for him to realize. “Ah.” he whispered to himself. Really if he was back home…. There was always the need to be ready to move and snap to action when the stars descended or one of the roaming weapons came by. Maybe he was getting too comfortable, too easily forgiving the new kinds of fatigue that he was weighed down by.

Pushing himself up with a yawn he looked around with a bobbing head and narrowed eyes. "Yeah... what is it?" His finger tapped his tablet to put a pause to the video of the concert, pausing it on a frame of the princess. “Who are you anyway? I doubt you were sent by Sheena, and I don’t remember anything else being lined up for my day. Is it something about the expo or something?”

For transparency's sake an addition to Gaia's inventory added after the approval of the sheet also approved by Crosswire.

Terra-use Gas Mask (Custom): Face of Old-Man
The face of a Terran, the mask worn to face a harsh world. The solace from, and symbol that proves the dangers of the dead world. Black as carbon, the metal and plaisteel that forms the mask is painted and dyed by the years of ash and traces of soot. Two cylinders, filled with multiple layers of filters and mechanisms. Designed to be durable, with redundancy and reliability built in, it is well equipped for the daunting task of guarding a person throughout their life without ideally, too much maintenance.

An artificial lung-system helps pump air in, and waste and exhaust out. The smooth workings and constant flow allows for a more regular and easy breathing with the ability to compensate for any fluctuations in the wearer or a greater need for oxygen through ensuring an ample amount of breathable air.

Two cylinders protrude outward, containing the most of the mechanisms. The left contains the bulk of the breath-systems, while the right is dedicated primarily to an advanced heating system that was only improved by access to, and incorporation of Verogel. The well-quarantined heating system recycles and resupplies the carbon utilized as one of the filters. A contained for the most part self-sufficient system. The mask is powered by a battery that rarely needs replacing, and its filters are for the most part able to keep going for not just hours like most, but even months.

The exhaust that leaks out of the mask is dark, wispy strands of black smoke. Leaving the breaths of the wearer to look like that of a smoking demonic beast.

It has been adjusted so as to be able to be incorporated with a normal suit so he can wear it during piloting as well.

In times of need for whatever reason the heating system can be utilized through removal of the cylinder and a specialized exhaust as a release of extreme temperatures. Enough to more than set most things to fire, as the heat that almost completely burns and reforms the carbon with minimal waste is charged for a “blast”



It was bullshit, complete bullshit! Why was it like this? Why did he have to go through something like this? This wasn’t what they were meant to be doing, not what he was told and promised of his time here.

Training, in gravity space? On a planet? What sort of fight was that really? Who’d even care about something like that. They ruled Mars, they ruled Venus and the Moon. Anywhere worth being was a place that would be lucky to have their boots touching upon. Anywhere in Zern was a place that wasn’t going to have pirates. If anything they were lucky that they could be in space to begin with. But in space no Turncoat was going to stand up to the empire.

His feelings on the princess were mixed. She was a pretty enough face, although that was to be expected of any royal member really. But her attitude grated on him a bit.

William Allen did not particularly dislike his time in the Order of the Olympian Snow Beetles… until now.

The magnetically charged shot from a refurbished whiskey ripped through his arm, tearing through the joint and leaving his system to blare in warnings as though an outlet for the machine’s pain.

“From that distance?!”

“Will’s been hit, fire back, fire back!”

“You’re wasting your shots. Get up closer!”

There were four of them. No, three now. Before the engagement happened they were simply waiting for any enemies and doing what they were assigned to do. A terrible drag, and a waste of time really.

The opening salvo that came from a forest was a combination of a Whiskey shot and and a wire-missile cut before the oversized MAG-shot ripped through his arm so it wouldn’t cause any deviation to the set course of the missile.


He could have sworn he felt the heat from the explosion wash over him.

Their LEWIN’s fired until dry. The blinking indicator of his own gun being out of ammo was ignored. He couldn’t see it, he couldn’t see anything. All he saw was the turncoat closing in, another shot heated up. His friends ran from another missile following while their vulcans showered it in a storm of bullets that eventually caused its premature explosion.

Another shot blasted out and slammed into one of his allies. It was just two now.

An H-viper round shot towards the direction of the Turncoat, but it missed, the faster machine seeming to understand the path that the round would take. Combined with the panicked shot it was a wild threat, dangerous but easy enough to deal with if one had the right head and calmness.

Eventually his haze cleared and he realized his mistake with the gun. The LEWIN fell to the ground as his one handed mech grabbed at its Nanocarbon Saber. He wouldn’t let another shot happen. He charged forth, chasing after the closing in Turncoat. “Don’t hit me, Lloyd!”

He didn’t know if it was due to looking down at him from being damaged, but the Turncoat didn’t bother to run away and instead moved to meet him. He felt the haze boil over again, this time with rage erupting in his heart. “Why you little!”

The Turncoat was faster, his weapon was better, he was better armored. But… their clash of blows was slow. This was one thing he remembered just fine from his training. But he felt his frustration and rage boil over more and more as the Turncoat stood after each blow. He was clumsy, he had no skill at arms like this. If it was a fencing match there was no contest. This machine was too slow… this arm didn’t spring to life with the blade like his ability deserved. He watched the blows of the enemy, saw where he could strike and only found himself gripping his controls tighter and tighter as he couldn’t actualize his vision.

Damn the damage, damn this piece of shit!

Faster, faster. He compensated for the damage, he adjusted his approach to try and deal with the flaws. He was cornering this damn pirate. His breath flowed, his eyes zipped from his controls and systems to the visual feed without stop.

But then he made an error. A different way to use the controls that he hoped would bring the saber reversed in his grip and brought back in a scything cut to rip through the Turncoat instead brought a confused locking of his Tommy’s hand.


As the bayonet filled his eyes he heard the crash of metal as it pierced into his tommy.

All went dark.

Then he “woke up”

The simulation was over. But they won. Apparently Lloyd managed to nail the Turncoat with a round after noticing that he lost the duel.

The calls for cheers that they stuck it to that “Loner-Fucker” that echoed in his comms were surprisingly quiet to his ears. The appearance of a simulation mission turning out to be what was considered an unfair and rigged match up against a single enemy machine was something that ended up a bemoaned and hated thing amongst the order whenever it did happen. So in cases like this where they took it down the squad would be “heroes” for a day and be treated for drinks. Really an excuse for another party, honestly.

“Sloppy.. It was so sloppy.”

That was what rankled him. If his machine wasn’t damaged before they fought with blades. If his machine didn’t hold him back..

But he felt it. He felt something. Even as a sudden wave of exhaustion struck him as though compensation for “dying” in the simulation, he felt a bit of something. What was that?

He felt like going for it again.

Maybe tonight he’d actually go to the simulations on his own time and work on some stuff.

Gaia Dryte
The Venue

He shuddered. Death, like what came for those who he shot at. Like the pirates that he blasted down. That was what he felt thanks to the machine. His hands shivered, his nerves steeped in ice. That nasty feeling that struck his body from time to time. Maybe in the future they could fix that, they could fix him. But should they? He always saw it as a warning, that something bad would happen. It was ridiculous some people said, but he chose to believe it was something like that.

His breathing took twenty seconds to get back to normal. Just before he would overwhelm the abilities of his mask’s flow of air. He was rattled, he had to admit. The first time it happened he had to tear it off, had to spent a few minutes collecting himself.

Weak constitution, Sheena commented sometimes. That went beyond just the physical, maybe.

It was an idea put forth by Sheena to try and get some better training and experience. Although she didn’t say if it was for the Beetles or for him. He was sneaking in as another “Player” pilot in the simulations as a “Pirate”. As much as he felt a certain level of disgust having to pretend to be one. There was complaining at first, a lot of aggression and irritation as a suddenly lone, overtuned pirate took out squads and humiliated them. But the data was shown to be fair, that it was all a rather standard Turncoat, barely different from a run of the mill Redcoat’s specs.

It was all just due to experience honestly. He’d fought, he’d killed. They haven’t. But it kept getting harder. At first he could just have a fight and take them down. But what became a more and more even fight as they got used to it, even as they complained. Was something he couldn’t match. They could be good, they could definitely take him down, and they have. Even if they didn’t notice it they were getting used to this quicker than him. So he had to switch it up, fight “unfairly.” Was it just their training? Or was it the difference between a Earth-born human and a Martian Noble? Their blood, no, genes were different. Not just in treatment but in breeding. Or so he read and learned.

There were a lot of things to get used to and figure out still. The divide that went beyond those who were enemies, those who were from the sky and those who were friends. The life up here was... indirect, complicated in ways that he knew he simply didn't understand, and in ways that he didn't even realize existed. But at least what he does didn't change too much. Work on things, try to make something nice and try to shoot pirates. Simple was okay sometimes too.

Soon at this rate they’d be moving to one on one duels just to keep it fair, or have him fight among simulated data units. What it came down to was that they were getting better, getting used to it. He’d been in some fights, he’d killed. But that only took him so far above them.

He left the chamber, smokey haze oozing out of his mask, leaving a wispy trail of dark soot in his wake. Not bothering to take it off as he lurched through the hall with numb legs and a aching chest.

Sloppy. He was a good shot, he could handle a few tricks, but when it came to close combat he was sloppy. So maybe he’d try learning that sometime. Even if the Fossil wasn’t built for that. But that was a time for later.

The Expo was coming soon. Something that was on the buzz, something that Sheena told him about. Thanks to her some of his stuff was going to be there. He considered a while what he’d bring, especially considering what he heard of the goals for it.

His magnetized fragment collector, the animal and intruder scaring siren. He tried a few other things but his attempts to introduce them into smaller markets, or present them as products never panned out well.

This was his chance then.

But for now…. He left for his room while sending a quick message to his Patron.

“Hey, Sheena. They’re done. Three down, taken down after a melee engagement by a H-Viper. Anyway you there? We should talk about the expo some more.”

If it was his luck she’d get back to him only hours later however.

So it was ok if he’d take some time off being at ready right? Dropping onto a couch, luxurious enough to be called a bed one could kill for on Venus or Mars, he could only shrug as his tablet opened up to a feed of one of the Princess Asallia’s past concerts. Made sense. Everything was about her coming to Venus recently after all.

But he never really listened to her before. He was introduced to some music, but he never was taken to a concert or anything. Maybe he should ask Sheena sometime.


Bathed in the lights from his screen as the princess’s show played, he drifted away. It’s pretty tiring to die, isn’t it?

I'd be interested in participating.

Hibiya Park Field Gouged Landscape , Chiyoda Ward

“Wah wah wah!” His spinning was worse than usual thanks to the prodigious strength of Rider. “You really pack a punch! Are you really a human?” he cried out as he watched the two take to the skies.

“Ah… but, that’s not really jousting is it?” The disappointment was minor, but still something that filled his words as he watched Rider prepare his next onslaught. “Well, if that’s how it is it’ll still be a fight. I’ll take it as my win then! So how about the next course? The night just started after all.”

As the arrows rained down he flew as well. His leap took him through the air, shining like a star as he made to meet Rider. But even with his sense, even with his speed, the lack of manuveribility was rather difficult. His twisting spear thrust at Rider whenever he got close, and otherwise batted and crushed arrow after arrow as he forced a straight on battle. His armor and own arms contesting the volleys of Rider.

He crashed to the ground, and turned to leap again. Again and again chasing after Rider, as though he were trying to strike down the moon in the sky.

But even if this target moved around more than the moon, it was a lot closer too. Again and again, chasing down the end he sought, the goal that honed his mind and magic energy. The tactic of Lancer was oh so simple in this case, but more and more he made the adjustments needed to chase closer and closer.

The damage dealt was that to the battlefield, gouges ripped into it from his passing and the meteor-shower like arrows of Rider. The wounds of the park a testament to their strength, both in their blows, and in their defense from how neither suffered from these exchanges.

“I hope that power isn’t in just one arm. I think your archery’s been hurt a bit from earlier!”

This was the one!...

Again Lancer took to the skies, flying up as a javelin towards the horse and Rider. Dozens of passes left the park burning, and the air crackling with energy as well. But all of them were fruitless, Lancer sure to be worn down by the two weights of his own self and Rider’s archery at this rate.

But this time their paths intersected, this time Lancer’s eyes met that of Riders.

“I wanted to have a jousting match, but you’re fun either way.”

Ah, it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t close enough. But even then he could strike, the tip of his weapon sweeping forth in a slash at Rider.

Striking the horse? Such a thing never occurred to him, or rather wasn’t his plan in the first place. The man upon a horse, Rider. If he was to truly measure himself against it then he would have to face him with the protection of his horse. He’d have to apologize to his master later. But this wasn’t a battle to win… not yet.

Besides, that strength… Well, he could probably survive an exchange of charges without restraints. But if that Rider had more like that, or even something beyond that? Then a charge that sought not to battle but to seek victory would likely cause a clash that would leave one in ruin, maybe both.

So let’s fly, just a bit longer, you and I.

Hibiya Park Field, Chiyoda Ward

"Hmm, don't think so.” The jest was responded to with a smile as he braced himself.

“Rider huh? All the better.” The connection was made as he waited for Rider to climb his mount. “I’m a horseman myself at times. So why don’t we make this a bit more formal? Take this, my human jousting techniques!”

He erupted. Magical energy flooded and coarsed out of Lancer, coating him and wreathing it with its volume. The charge was less a man and more a beast of legend as the aura whirred and spun. The rotation of his energy focused the aura as a drill pointing forward, harnessing that otherwise indiscriminately burned away and churned the earth underneath him in his passing.

It was no explosion like that of his king, but a continuous flow from world to man.

If the horse was a beast that matched the abilities of man in its intellect, then he was a man who matched the stature of a monster with his spear. Shining like a phantasm, Lancer charged past, side by side, his large spear aimed at the Rider as he passed the horse. The drill-like blow aimed for his chest, aiming to gouge into him and rip through as he passed.

The energy was his true spear and shield both, and with the speed of the already swift servant class augmented by the coating from his spear, his sudden rush blazed forth as a surprise. His passing burned at the flank and hooves of Karushka.

Here was the hard part.

An ability that could be called the cornerstone of his fighting style, and a taste of what his trump card had to offer. Yet the biggest problem was that…

It was hard to stop! But if something like that was too much for him. Then he could hardly be called a hero. His instinct and experience, along with his rush-forward gungho attitude were what made this ridiculous fighting style possible in the first place… and also let him think of it to begin with.

Lancer slammed his feet into the ground after their exchange of blows, dirt and grass melting away from the mana-coating, his footing crumbling from the force and energy. His hand swiped through the ground to turn him about, Lancer swiveling to face his foe again as he prepared for another charge

Well he showed his trick, but the initial surprise was only the start of the battle.

“Rider, your horse is a nice horse. But it’s unfortunate. I’m the best horse around!”
@Dosthou @Reflection @Cu Chulainn

The first show of his master's magic huh? As basic as he called it, something like that, navigation through looking at the world around them was important even to him. Whether it was as an adventurer, a hunting young boy, or a knight waging war direction and guidance was important. Even if he didn't quite have the head, but rather the heart for such things initially. -Righto! With this they could definitely fight.

"...By the way master, is it ok if we invi-actually no. That’s something else for another time! As far as women go I'm not sure if they're always so forceful as you say, but anyone grabs at what they want or find important, right?” a glance he was giving the women that he had been chatting with in the moments he strayed from his master cut off as he sharpened his posture. The glass he had in hand swiftly found itself drained and left as he made his way to the overlooking view that judged the city.

“Mhm. That’s why we’re here even, isn’t it? But speaking of… it’s time to fight isn’t it? You won’t be disappointed. Have you ever seen a knight before?” He looked over the city as if trying to follow the gaze of the stars with his own eyes, being up high as they were. After a while satisfied that he knew where they were going to go through consulting the magus he turned around.

“Well, Lan-Lan would probably say this is more fitting of something to say to a woman but..” With a grin he tugged Brahelius off the edge and threw himself fell off as well. A magus could float down, a servant could handle such a fall. But to meet the earth wasn’t his plan.

“Hoi. Let’s get closer to the stars ah?” Twisting in the air, Lancer placed his feet against the side of the building they were just upon, and with a widening expression on his face, pushed off. Grabbing Brahelius he took his master with him as the two shot out, following the path of the stars to their battle as they soared through the sky. Sneaking away from the party. The light of the night was abandoned for the sparks in the dark between blade and blade.

Hibiya Park Field,
Chiyoda Ward

“Oh? A firework? All the better.”

Striding forth into the sight of the the enemy came Lancer. His more modern clothes provided by his master replaced by the hefy and yet well-conforming armor on his frame. A large spear in hand, the servant walked with a cheerful and light step towards what would likely be his first battle. “Yo, yo. I’m the Knight of the Spear, Lancer. Which one are you?”

Tokyo: Ebisu -> All over the City -> Ginza Skylounge

So this was his respite, his moment of peace before battle. Living in a home that in of itself was both pride, status and torment. What a strange life his master had. His home was so different from the glen he left.

Well, he always had a choice even if he was discouraged. To walk a path that others discouraged, to walk a path that others wished for you to walk. To fulfill expectation and to defy it both were things he knew of.

“Mhm, that’s right isn’t it? There’s so much here. That’s how I felt when I arrived at the kingdom. There was just so much! And so many things I’d never seen either. Food, buildings, swords, armor, people. The world is so much bigger than I knew. Even if a castle is smaller than a forest. Even if a village is dwarfed by the plains. The weight and fun of human lives is just as big as any wildland.”

“...Speaking of weight think we can drink enough to match what we’ve had gram for gram?”

Their next hours were a blur of excess. But what was wrong with that? In the wilds the animals gorged themselves in times of plenty, preparing for the time of scarcity. This man, his master was someone who lived in a winter all his life.

“It’s very pretty.”

They ended up perhaps fittingly in a rooftop bar, one of the Tokyo sky lounges in Ginza. High above the ground, yet that height was something to simply admire the stars closer.

“Your dress that is, but you’re even prettier. Where did you get that ring by the way? It’s really nice, I’d like one like that too!”

And as it turned out the appetite of the man’s servant seemed to come with a lighthearted reaching out for people as well. The way he spoke to the women about was not that of a predatory beast, but rather a casual interest. Certainly it was an engagement caused by his pursuing initiative. But as masculine as the experience was it felt more a matter of simply that he was engaging in a core part of the “experience” in such merrymaking.

To flirt, and to engage with women was simply part of having fun. Along with wherever such a thing led to. The wholesome demeanor and attitude of Lancer clashed partially with the casual skirt-chasing,

“Hey master, I forgot to ask. Are you married? Because if not… Aha, maybe we’ll find out which warms up your heart better. A hotpot or a someone!”
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