User has no status, yet


User has no bio, yet

Most Recent Posts


Gaia Dryte

It was fast, and it didn’t stop. He didn’t expect to hit it with his first volley, but if it didn’t make him enough of a target to make the ship deviate from its course of action. Then at least it’d grab the attention of his own side. The eyes of anyone, no, everyone gathered. Even as the various lines of communication blew up with the various announcements, panicked or authoritative. Well, he’ll let Sheena deal with that mess. He came out here to do one thing and it was as good a starting spot as any.

This wasn’t a show or an invasion by the boat, or it won’t be in the end. It was fast, and surprisingly deadly.

But it wasn’t the Companion. Really. Compared to having to deal with Sheena... Well. He'd take the weird modern reenactment of forgotten machines any day.

His next shots rattled the plane, striking its frame and ripping gouges in with the grazing of the LEWIN’s shots. A technical hit but nothing that would pierce into the core of the machine or hit the pilot. Plasteel ripped away from being touched and grinded against, sparks flashing against the cockpit before the bullets disappeared into the void.

“Dancing about right? Well, keep it up for as long as you can.” The fact that he didn’t hit it down yet was something that sparked a touch of irritation in him. His fingers ground into the controls tighter, pushing hard enough that his hands felt an ache.

“Come on, I don’t have all day and there’s other stuff going on too.”

His frusturation brought a moment’s peace, his firing diffuse in his aggression. Yet the shower of bullets that surrounded the ship was a tight cover that oppressively restricted it and threatened to rip it apart. Slowly he was collecting himself and getting used to the ship’s flight, adjusting quick enough, he’d definitely be able to shoot it down before it left his operating range.

“Tch, one more?... I’m thinking one more. But that’s all you’re squeezing out of me.”

A fourth rocket fired, followed after by the Terra Fossil in another blast of its thruster. Even as the forces sunk into his body, head barely kept from bobbing around from its anchoring straps, he continued to fire. The surrounding escort of bullets that worked to preclude an attempt from slipping away, the rocket meant as a explosive finish to match the beginning, were, despite the playout figured in his mind no less bloodthirsty than the star projectile.

Giving chase as he was, it’d be a few vital more moments, a few vital more threatening volleys before the plane could leave his sights and range. If it didn’t go down no, he’d definitely do it in those next ones.

@Greengoat @veenknight343
Gaia Dryte

There wasn’t too much of a danger, or that’s some said. But then there were those who still remembered the raid and assault of the Butcher. Whether it was a distraction, or just the opening hand for an audacious second attempt was hard for anyone to tell. But the need to worry for the royal family and yet not show weakness went hand in hand. The Venue, even docked as it was could not simply cower away, nor could it be risked in any manner.


The exposition was all about showing off new things right? Then he’d do it. He’ll come out to play.

The familiar Terra Fossil was a comfort, easier to drive compared to the Redcoat or Tommy in his eyes. But being so dependent and reliant on the boosters for all sorts of movement… Well. It wasn’t like he needed to outrace or corner the the intruder.

“Gaia Dryte, heading out.” Declaring his sorie as the launch-gate opened to the void of space. The hiss of air filled his ears for a few moments as his mask snapped into the suit helmet, integrating with its systems and frame.

“Taking position to fire upon the enemy and halt its aggression.”

He’d show off his own abilities, the Terra’s abilities. As for what it couldn’t do. Well, there was no need to show that off. Starting off with a strong impression, the Terra Fossil burst into action with a surprising blast of speed. The frame around him shook and shuddered from the strain on the reactor and the sudden acceleration from the reactor-plugged thruster roaring to life. He held it until he reached the point he desired. Within orbit of the colony and taking a point that had a line of fire towards the various paths the aggressor could take. A place that also potentially baited the foe into taking him as a target with his relative isolation. A rook castling a king, or that’s how that man, Brache would put it, going off Sheena’s comments about him. Not that he could defend that massive king really.

The Railgun mounted on the Mobile-Tank was ready to fire anytime, and the hands of the Fossil rose up, armed in this case with two LEWINs. There was no need for a whiskey. Not with the speeds that this thing was moving. Hitting it with the Starblazer was already asking for a lot.

“Sheena.” he opened up a private communication line. “Never showed you hunting like it’s down on good old classic earth, huh? Well, they say it goes a bit something like this… So keep your eyes open.”

Being flashy was more like her, so he wondered if she’d make fun of him, berate him, or unironically think what he was about to do cool. As he took his aim he flipped on another communications to the soldiers in the area. "Hey, might wanna get outta the way. Things're gonna light up you know." He offered with a shrug. "More for whoever that is than us if I have anything to say about it. But it'd be nice if you guys didn't get in the way and decided to take the stage as fireworks instead."

A trio of rockets launched out with the warning, blazing through space in a race with the plane heading towards where the unidentified aggressor flew towards. But before they could fly off to the void, avoided they suddenly turned twisted and shook before exploding as the passage of a MAG-shot ripped through them.

It was easy enough to follow the rockets he fired himself after all.

“Consider it a warning shot.” he spoke out to no one in particular.

The explosions were enough to pelt the plane with some heat, but hardly enough for some damage. If anything it was as meaningful as a flare in frightening its pilot. But it was enough of a grazing touch to get their attention.

What do you do now?
@Golden Spiral
Gaia Dryte

Really, this was all a pain. At this point he had enough to think on being sleepy as he was. But even beyond that fatigue the thoughts that slowly bubbled up as the overwhelming adrenaline and situation of the simulation faded away all concerned one thing. The Expo. There was time to digest it but...

The Venue's Recent Past

“So the expo right? I was thinking the magnet-collector, and maybe the sirens. Maybe even a incinerator. Waste is hard to manage right? Collecting scraps, improving filters. If the closed space of a colony had those issues… Well, it’s like treating one of the compounds back home. It isn’t like it’s an open environment there right? I think I can do something then. The outside is danger, inside has its own circulation. A closed space, a system." He found himself babbling a bit. Antsy, maybe a bit nervous. It wasn't anything to do with the royal figure with him.

He offered a smile “Some of it’s theoretical, assuming it’d work in space or in colonies. But I could show how some of it works on Earth. Maybe it’d be good to be tested on the moons first? But the idea can be presented, their attention grabbed. The details don’t matter as much until then right? We can fill those in, I can.” He rose to his feet and leaned in, curving forth and suddenly was in her face, palms pressed onto the table.

“This is it right? The chance, what I’ve been studying for. Of course even if we don’t make big waves now there’ll be more later but..”

His palm ground into a blueprint sheet. Slightly clammy, cold. Sticking to him like a half-discarded skin. In a year his knowledge matured into something that could be explained, that could be put down in paper. Concrete visions taken form that could be shared, thought-out constructed approaches and plans that went beyond simply doing as he figured.

This wasn’t just tinkering, putting together something that was needed at the time or forcing a machine of war together. Convincing others, making them understand, share in what he said could be. But then why did it feel off? What were his doubts.

“Can this stuff. Or well, can a reputation and money really change the direction of peoples hearts and their lives? Or..."

It was left unsaid.

Was the talents of the princess of war the only real path?

He came up here to destroy the pirates, to take revenge on those who came down and brought further turmoil to his home. Really, what was his year of effort for then? He’d made the Terra Fossil, he learned of Mobile Suits, and he fought and was being grilled. That was fine, but what as all the rest? What was… He pushed forth with a finger he could barely feel a page that detailed his ideas for a safety feature utilizing magnetic interference.

Did he simply get engrossed in it all, being overwhelmed by the luxuries and wealth of resources of the Empire and life in it? Did he see what could be wanted it to be better? Or maybe he wanted to think of himself as something more than just another killer.

“Hey, why was I brought up. Why am I really here?..." It wasn't a matter of just asking about her own motives in taking him under her wing. It was a quiet request for direction. The young man asking to be told in a moment of weakness what he was. "I... Forget that." Gaia shook his head before retreating to slump back in his own chair.

"Sheena. What's Venus about?"


Gaia Dryte
The Venue

“Documents?... oh, right, that.” Truth be told he rarely needed to use it. Whether it were the pages with official seals, or something as simple as his card. The times he was off on a errand alone that required it were far and few. Identity. It wasn’t that much different in space, and yet it was all so much more complicated. People coming from everywhere, anywhere, in constant swarms. It was hard to just say who you were.

Maybe it was because of Sheena, or because he was an earthling walking around,

With a bit of searching through a few usual places, he eventually picked out the bundle of information-dense documents. From the weave of materials and electronics, to the specific mark that worked as a seal of approval. At times he picked at some similar ingredients to see if he could figure out anything for the expo, but all in all it was rather in order. Save for the actual handing over as he took a moments hesitation born from a simple uncertainty that led itself to contemplation rather than worry or panic. An extended card was withdrawn before he held it up to be shown off while in his hand.

“This is it, right?”

Gaia Dryte. The name of the Terran that came to Zern, lifted up by the princess after a daring and dramatic battle.

Or that’s what some said. The name wasn’t his, or it used to not be. Placed on him as a newly placed title and name, it was something easier to sell to the public. Being called it for pretty much a year made it something that came to him naturally. What was a name then? It was simple down there. It was what you were called. But sometimes he got odd looks when he called people by their names.


“Who’re you anyway?” he asked in return. “As for superior.. I suppose it’s what most people would know. I’m with Sheena.”

In a way he was like an attachment, but that was fine for him. As notable as a missile pod or not, he had plenty filling his life and head just following around. Walking a path in Mars was plenty hard.

“Lead the way.” So he’ll just follow the rails set for him.


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.
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet