This is the POV of one of the late-series Earth Alliance pilots. Yes, they do exist. Yes, I'm better at writing the combat stuff than I am writing the life-as-usual stuff... this will hopefully be the only chapter that I have to write this stuff in. I'll update as reviews and time allow. Please tell me what you think.
By Arctic Flame
Strange name for my mobile suit, don't you think? What does it mean, raider? One who raids? One who burns, rapes, pillages, kills?
It's eerily silent as I crush another nameless enemy with my claws. I don't know where I am... what my mission is... other than to destroy the enemy. Kill them.
Somewhere, I've learned that there are people in those suits. People who aren't that different than myself, people with friends, families... why do I kill like I do?
Without it, I can't live. It's the blood that flows through my veins, it's the food that gives my body strength. It takes over my thoughts, filling them with rage and hatred.
Liquid fire courses through me. It's the fire that gives me light, that gives me liberty. It's the fire that gives me strength, the strength I need to do what I do. To kill.
But I wasn't always like this.
glanced upwards. My hat came off my head, a direct result of a gust of
wind. I cursed and slapped it back on before it could blow away. It was
always breezy in my town.
It turned out to be my friend, Allan. He was the kind that had a different girl on his arm every day, without fail. Well, what girl wouldn't like him? He was rich, had good looks, always wore a black leather jacket...
"Hey! How's it going?" I asked, my customary greeting for Allan.
He extended a fist, and I met it with my own. "Not bad, not bad," he said, with a wry smile. He then turned to his lady-friend for the day. "Hey, Jessie, this is my friend Mike."
I smiled at her, and then silently applauded her decision to wear a skirt on this blustery day. Allan had good eyes, indeed. I fixed my collar and flashed my best smile. "Nice to meet you, Jessie," I said, pulling all my conversational skills together. "Are you going home with Allan?"
"Nah, we're going to my house for some fun and games. Do you wanna come too?"
I smiled and shook my head. "No thanks. Have fun, you two. See ya tomorrow, Allan."
He waved and they started to walk off. I sighed and shook my head. Allan, Allan. Incurable womanizer, he was. I sighed wistfully. I've never managed to get a girlfriend, and it seemed like Allan had one at all times.
Well, it was time for me to go home. I packed up my lunch and started walking.
Birds flew overhead as I walked, but I didn't pay too much attention. There, in the distance... was that an Astray? I stopped, and looked. Yes, it was an Astray, probably going to patrol over the ocean. Thankfully, we didn't get combat here. Orb was neutral, and hopefully was going to stay neutral.
The suit flew on, getting smaller and smaller - I watched it until it was a little speck in the distance. Then I kept on walking home.
"In other news today, the Earth Alliance has been defeated in what some people call the battle of Jakin Due. With their outdated Mobius mobile armor, they stood no chance against ZAFT's GINNS..."
The television shut off. There was my mom, holding the remote with one hand and a frying pan with the other.
"It's supper time, Michael."
"Wait. Turn the TV back on. Please?"
"You can read the news later, and your dinner's getting cold. Come on."
I sighed and picked myself up. "Coming..."
It was a short walk to the kitchen, and I sat myself down. Mom was a great cook, and I ate a lot, as usual.
After dinner, I hopped back onto the couch and turned the news back on. There was never much on, except about the war and the energy crisis, all bad news through and through. Soon, the anchor started repeating himself, and I went to sleep.
I was awakened by the birds singing
the next morning. A quick glance at my calendar confirmed that it was
Saturday. Of course, that meant one thing.
It was time to hang out with my friends!
I snuck a quick glance at the clock, and had enough time to grab a bit of cereal before I went out the door. I swear, I must've set a record for fastest morning ever.
Before I knew it, I was at the mall. They were already waiting for me, Allan, Kent, and... Jessie? Wow, she was still with Allan.
"Yo, Mike!" Allan shouted, raising his fist again. I grinned and met his with mine.
"Hey, how's it going?" I asked.
Kent gave me a nod. He was the quiet one, always listening to music or staring off into space. Well, at least girls found him attractive... maybe it was his mysterious nature. Maybe it was his wicked hair-do - soft blue hair, with wickedly gelled bangs that covered one eye completely. Admittedly, we kept him along as a chick magnet.
Remember Jessie? Yeah, for some reason she wasn't disgusted with Allan last night, and decided to remain by him. Maybe his manners got better. Then again, probably not. She wasn't wearing a skirt today, which suited me fine. Her tanktop basically made up for that.
Well, now that introductions were over, it was time for Allan and I to hit the arcade. Jess insisted on going shopping with Kent, so we let them off. It was a short, boring walk there, but at the end was the reward. A new arcade machine, with the high score table still relatively fresh. Soon, we were jamming quarters in like nobody's business.
And this was how we spent the better part of an hour.
"Yes. Suck it, Mike!"
I grunted with disgust and slammed the arcade machine. "Bloody rigged machine..."
The high scores list popped up. Allan placed first, I placed second – not bad, but not good enough. The third-place score was less than half of mine, however. My line of fame was relatively safe.
"Up for a rematch?" Allan said with a smirk, flipping a quarter. He caught it and inserted it into the machine. I smirked back and did the same. Soon, we were at it again.
Missiles and bullets were flying everywhere. I picked up a gun power-up and started to blast enemies away, leaving none for him. My brute power was good, but not pretty. I racked up a third-place score. Allan didn't rank at all.
"Damn rigged machine," he grumbled.
"Come on, between the two of us, we have the top three spots on the high scores list. How about that?" I chuckled and grabbed his shoulder. "Come on, let's go. I'd hate to leave Jess with Kent for too long... who knows what'll happen?"
We had a good laugh over that one.
Kent was probably having more fun staring off into space than having
Jess' company. We were nearly out of the arcade, when a man tapped me
on the shoulder.
"Are you the ones who posted the top scores on Ryvian II?" he asked us. I turned around to see a businessman, probably in the gaming business.
"Yeah," Allan said, cracking a knuckle. "Want our autographs?"
"Sure thing," he said. He produced a business card, and gave us a pen. Allan grabbed it and signed the back of the card. I did the same. "Here you go," I said, giving it to him. "Maybe it'll be worth something later on."
"I'm sure it will," he said with a smile. He nodded at us and was off.
"Weird guy," Allan said. He shrugged and started walking again. I looked back at his figure, slowly getting smaller as he walked away from us. I sighed and ran to catch up to Allan. Strange person, indeed.
Little did I know I just signed our death certificates.
Life sucks, doesn't it?
Life sucks, but you endure – no matter how stacked the deck is, no matter how the coin flips. You struggle through hard times, and you emerge from the dark tunnel, into a world of light.
For all my life, the game has been rigged. The die was weighted. Whenever I came close to winning, it all came crashing down, and the game started again. Well, at least I can see the end.
I can see now.
An enemy pops up in front of me, its rifle blazing. A GINN, isn't it? Hardly a challenge at all. Well, it's in my crosshairs... my finger is on the trigger...
My hammer shoots cleanly through the suit, my metal slicing through his metal, clean through the cockpit. Probably smashing the pilot's body to pieces. A second later, the suit implodes with a satisfying flash of light. In the light of the explosion, another enemy comes. And another.
Why am I smiling? Like a dog before suppertime, waiting eagerly for its meat...
My cannons open up, shooting slugs an inch wide. My aim is perfect, and all my rounds strike home. The two suits exploded, taking their pilots with them. I exhale deeply, and I find myself smiling again, even wider.
What's happened to me?