Post by Kale on Dec 7, 2009 6:47:50 GMT -5
“Wooooooooooooooooooooweeeee—“ Donny said, putting hands to hips and letting out a shrill whistle. “Got ya good there, didn’t he boss?”
The 433rd Basterds stood on the shore of a densely forested island, Hugo and Donny’s Doms keeping watch over the laid-out metal corpse of their commander’s unit. Resting on its stomach, the mobile suit was half-buried in the sand, unmoved from where it had washed up about three hours earlier. Waves crashed against its bruised and dented titanium. One shoulder plate had a jagged, melted crack down the middle; the opposite forearm was missing. There was a small white hilt sticking out of the Dom S’s asshole, buried about three-quarters of the way in.
“Sure did, Don-nay. That Feddie pilot went straight for my behind the second we were alone.” Aldo stood in between the “thighs” of his machine, his sweat-beaded expression a mixture of confusion and amusement. “I have to say, I am a mixture of confusion and amusement. The Earther is a bewildering foe."
Miles away, the intermittent sounds of gunfire could still be heard at Manila. Despite the fact that battle was breaking, the thunder of explosions and the occasional burst of light marred an otherwise peaceful twilight. Cerulean skies were filled with the faint diamond dust of stars and colonies, and all three men –Aldo next to his Dom, Hugo and Donny perched on the outer hatches of their cockpits – took pause to enjoy the unhindered view of space; “home.”
Aldo wondered how the Basterds were doing back at Granada.
Donny took out a picture of Jr. from his breast pocket.
Hugo bowed his head in the direction of Side 5.
They remained as if in vigil for several minutes, before…
“The Federation is settling down for the evening.” Hugo was the first to break his gaze, having little left up there to linger upon. “We need to rendezvous with the Morrigan. Marina is expecting us.”
“Aww…” Donny cried out. “But I think I can almost see Mahal from here.”
“You can’t see Side 3 from Earth, dumbass.“
“Fuck you Lethe!” It was accompanied by a smile – no hard feelings. “Just ‘cause nobody loves you doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for the rest of us.”
“And just because your wife birthed my bastard right as we fell onto this rock…”
Donny glanced at the photo in his hand, frowning. “Y’know, he does look a little bit like you. All bald and with half a penis.”
Aldo coughed, cutting the two off. “Sergeants, how ‘bout we act like professionals for a moment or two longer? Zeon are still dyin' back there.”
As if to punctuate the statement, a particularly loud explosion rumbled over the nearby treetops. It was enough to send a cooling breeze through Aldo’s hair. It felt good.
“Let’s pack up, fellas. That baby girl is in for a long night, Schutzstaffel or no; and her daddy ain’t gonna be there to check for monsters under the waves.”
The 433rd Basterds stood on the shore of a densely forested island, Hugo and Donny’s Doms keeping watch over the laid-out metal corpse of their commander’s unit. Resting on its stomach, the mobile suit was half-buried in the sand, unmoved from where it had washed up about three hours earlier. Waves crashed against its bruised and dented titanium. One shoulder plate had a jagged, melted crack down the middle; the opposite forearm was missing. There was a small white hilt sticking out of the Dom S’s asshole, buried about three-quarters of the way in.
“Sure did, Don-nay. That Feddie pilot went straight for my behind the second we were alone.” Aldo stood in between the “thighs” of his machine, his sweat-beaded expression a mixture of confusion and amusement. “I have to say, I am a mixture of confusion and amusement. The Earther is a bewildering foe."
Miles away, the intermittent sounds of gunfire could still be heard at Manila. Despite the fact that battle was breaking, the thunder of explosions and the occasional burst of light marred an otherwise peaceful twilight. Cerulean skies were filled with the faint diamond dust of stars and colonies, and all three men –Aldo next to his Dom, Hugo and Donny perched on the outer hatches of their cockpits – took pause to enjoy the unhindered view of space; “home.”
Aldo wondered how the Basterds were doing back at Granada.
Donny took out a picture of Jr. from his breast pocket.
Hugo bowed his head in the direction of Side 5.
They remained as if in vigil for several minutes, before…
“The Federation is settling down for the evening.” Hugo was the first to break his gaze, having little left up there to linger upon. “We need to rendezvous with the Morrigan. Marina is expecting us.”
“Aww…” Donny cried out. “But I think I can almost see Mahal from here.”
“You can’t see Side 3 from Earth, dumbass.“
“Fuck you Lethe!” It was accompanied by a smile – no hard feelings. “Just ‘cause nobody loves you doesn’t mean you have to ruin it for the rest of us.”
“And just because your wife birthed my bastard right as we fell onto this rock…”
Donny glanced at the photo in his hand, frowning. “Y’know, he does look a little bit like you. All bald and with half a penis.”
Aldo coughed, cutting the two off. “Sergeants, how ‘bout we act like professionals for a moment or two longer? Zeon are still dyin' back there.”
As if to punctuate the statement, a particularly loud explosion rumbled over the nearby treetops. It was enough to send a cooling breeze through Aldo’s hair. It felt good.
“Let’s pack up, fellas. That baby girl is in for a long night, Schutzstaffel or no; and her daddy ain’t gonna be there to check for monsters under the waves.”