**
Prologue 3- Duo's Story
***Three Months after the end of the Maremeia war.***
It had been a quiet few weeks at the scrap yard. A few sales here and there, the odd repair job, but nothing worth noting. This neighbourhood seemed boring after two years rebuilding and servicing specialist elite mobile suits. Duo wasn't complaining. He preferred peace to war, or course, it was just going to take longer than he'd bargained for to completely adjust. Hilde was helping. A lot. She was just as passionate about his career as he was, and she helped him run the business like only she could. They'd managed to pay back Howard for his original funding to get the place started, and now were in business on their own. After seeing so many young men go off to war, become terrorists and the like, the people didn't even bat an eye at two teenagers starting a business together. They just thought it was somewhat… cute. Duo blamed that judgement on Hilde. Her and her lilac pullovers! And that beret… He snapped out of his reminiscing and quickly finished off the final touches on the estate car's overhaul. Withdrawing from the bonnet, sweating and oil splattered, he snatched up the grey ragged towel from the desk chair in the corner and wiped his face. The umber coppery mirror displayed an autumnal and continuously grease smeared 16 year old, fast approaching his June birthday. Duo frowned.
"This stuff's never coming off," he moaned, flicking the towel over the mirror and loping out of the garage. He absentmindedly rubbed his stomach. He couldn't tell if he was imagining the painful bruise anymore; every time he touched the flesh directly in front of his solar plexus he could still feel the thudding pain of the old bruise. He frowned. Lousy Japanese… Duo couldn't help but smile. That had been a blast, despite the gastronomic agony. He secretly prayed Heero had got a bruise out of that one, but he sincerely doubted it. Superman didn't bruise easily, unlike Duo the fragile little peach. His gig was stealth, i.e avoiding flying fists. Unfortunately, Heero forget the "and I'll hit you back" part of the "Hit me" comment. Duo looked out across the yard. A huge pile of twisting iron, reaching towards a golden terrestrial sunset filled his vision, and he slowly climbed in, calf muscles stretching and tightening with every semi-vertical step. Upon reaching the summit, Duo's cobalt gaze was flooded with yellow ochre as the setting sun shafted its golden rays through the city. He sighed. He heard a little movement below him and looked down. Hilde had turned to look up at him, smiling, her face glimmering in the streams of glow. Duo sat down beside her, leaning back against an old catalytic converter exhaust system. Hilde leant her head against Duo's shoulder. Words weren't necessary. He could feel how she felt with every glance and gesture she made unto him. In the waning light, Duo Maxwell gently kissed his girlfriend and vowed that they would never be parted.
"Hilde!" Duo screamed. The world was television- lights flickering and blurry, sound false and accentuated. A huge mobile suit plundered on through main street, broadcasting it's loud message.
"WINNER CORP HAS BETRAYED YOU! THEIR SHODDY ALL PROFIT WORK HAS CAUSED THIS DISASTER! THE NEA IN PARTNERSHIP WITH HIWATARI CORP, ABAROV ENTERPRISES, AFRICAN STAR ENTERPRISES AND YAMUE CORP WILL TAKE REVENGE ON THE SCUM RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS CATASTROPHE! JOIN..."
Duo wasn't listening. Off main street in the smaller business district several tower blocks had collapsed. Duo's mind was a blur. All he saw was the world come tumbling down around him and watching Hilde vanish in a pile of falling rubble.
"Hold on! I'm coming!" Duo cried, burrowing through the twisted metal and dusty concrete. Heaving without concern for his body, Duo tore the rubble apart.
"Duo! Stop it!" Called Sandy from across the street. "You'll hurt yourself!" Duo's teeth were gritted. In the background, the young informative voice blasted out its message.
"This is all a fraud," Duo hissed almost silently as he body groaned and hefted the rubble away, "a dumb way for some megalomaniac to take revenge on the richest corporation in the earth sphere. Okay guys, jokes over. You've made your point. Now put the building back up and bring back Hilde!" Suddenly there was a flash of white skin among the dust. Duo felt the lump that was weighting down his stomach leap into his throat.
"Hilde!" He screamed, burrowing faster, more crazily than before. Cooling blood oozed and congealed over the ragged blocks. Duo could feel his chest heaving with distress and fatigue. He didn't feel being dragged away by his local friends. He couldn't hear anything but the beating of his heart and he couldn't see anything but the blood and the still hand across the broken slab. As he was pulled away, his cracking voice whined and called out, and his hands still weakly scrabbled as if to dig away the image in his mind. He didn't feel the sedative needle from the ambulance, nor did he see the recovery crews digging out his girlfriend's mutilated corpse. All he saw was the blood and the hand. All he heard was his heartbeat in his ears as he glazed eyes slowly closed, and a little black velvet box dropped with a clatter out of half furled hands.
Prologue 3- Duo's Story
***Three Months after the end of the Maremeia war.***
It had been a quiet few weeks at the scrap yard. A few sales here and there, the odd repair job, but nothing worth noting. This neighbourhood seemed boring after two years rebuilding and servicing specialist elite mobile suits. Duo wasn't complaining. He preferred peace to war, or course, it was just going to take longer than he'd bargained for to completely adjust. Hilde was helping. A lot. She was just as passionate about his career as he was, and she helped him run the business like only she could. They'd managed to pay back Howard for his original funding to get the place started, and now were in business on their own. After seeing so many young men go off to war, become terrorists and the like, the people didn't even bat an eye at two teenagers starting a business together. They just thought it was somewhat… cute. Duo blamed that judgement on Hilde. Her and her lilac pullovers! And that beret… He snapped out of his reminiscing and quickly finished off the final touches on the estate car's overhaul. Withdrawing from the bonnet, sweating and oil splattered, he snatched up the grey ragged towel from the desk chair in the corner and wiped his face. The umber coppery mirror displayed an autumnal and continuously grease smeared 16 year old, fast approaching his June birthday. Duo frowned.
"This stuff's never coming off," he moaned, flicking the towel over the mirror and loping out of the garage. He absentmindedly rubbed his stomach. He couldn't tell if he was imagining the painful bruise anymore; every time he touched the flesh directly in front of his solar plexus he could still feel the thudding pain of the old bruise. He frowned. Lousy Japanese… Duo couldn't help but smile. That had been a blast, despite the gastronomic agony. He secretly prayed Heero had got a bruise out of that one, but he sincerely doubted it. Superman didn't bruise easily, unlike Duo the fragile little peach. His gig was stealth, i.e avoiding flying fists. Unfortunately, Heero forget the "and I'll hit you back" part of the "Hit me" comment. Duo looked out across the yard. A huge pile of twisting iron, reaching towards a golden terrestrial sunset filled his vision, and he slowly climbed in, calf muscles stretching and tightening with every semi-vertical step. Upon reaching the summit, Duo's cobalt gaze was flooded with yellow ochre as the setting sun shafted its golden rays through the city. He sighed. He heard a little movement below him and looked down. Hilde had turned to look up at him, smiling, her face glimmering in the streams of glow. Duo sat down beside her, leaning back against an old catalytic converter exhaust system. Hilde leant her head against Duo's shoulder. Words weren't necessary. He could feel how she felt with every glance and gesture she made unto him. In the waning light, Duo Maxwell gently kissed his girlfriend and vowed that they would never be parted.
"Hilde!" Duo screamed. The world was television- lights flickering and blurry, sound false and accentuated. A huge mobile suit plundered on through main street, broadcasting it's loud message.
"WINNER CORP HAS BETRAYED YOU! THEIR SHODDY ALL PROFIT WORK HAS CAUSED THIS DISASTER! THE NEA IN PARTNERSHIP WITH HIWATARI CORP, ABAROV ENTERPRISES, AFRICAN STAR ENTERPRISES AND YAMUE CORP WILL TAKE REVENGE ON THE SCUM RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS CATASTROPHE! JOIN..."
Duo wasn't listening. Off main street in the smaller business district several tower blocks had collapsed. Duo's mind was a blur. All he saw was the world come tumbling down around him and watching Hilde vanish in a pile of falling rubble.
"Hold on! I'm coming!" Duo cried, burrowing through the twisted metal and dusty concrete. Heaving without concern for his body, Duo tore the rubble apart.
"Duo! Stop it!" Called Sandy from across the street. "You'll hurt yourself!" Duo's teeth were gritted. In the background, the young informative voice blasted out its message.
"This is all a fraud," Duo hissed almost silently as he body groaned and hefted the rubble away, "a dumb way for some megalomaniac to take revenge on the richest corporation in the earth sphere. Okay guys, jokes over. You've made your point. Now put the building back up and bring back Hilde!" Suddenly there was a flash of white skin among the dust. Duo felt the lump that was weighting down his stomach leap into his throat.
"Hilde!" He screamed, burrowing faster, more crazily than before. Cooling blood oozed and congealed over the ragged blocks. Duo could feel his chest heaving with distress and fatigue. He didn't feel being dragged away by his local friends. He couldn't hear anything but the beating of his heart and he couldn't see anything but the blood and the still hand across the broken slab. As he was pulled away, his cracking voice whined and called out, and his hands still weakly scrabbled as if to dig away the image in his mind. He didn't feel the sedative needle from the ambulance, nor did he see the recovery crews digging out his girlfriend's mutilated corpse. All he saw was the blood and the hand. All he heard was his heartbeat in his ears as he glazed eyes slowly closed, and a little black velvet box dropped with a clatter out of half furled hands.