Gundam IBO

Please tell me that Azee was in on the hit.

The bullets just scraped her face, went through her lung, and tore up her intestines. She'll be alright.

fuck you, now I need to leave Sup Forums till the season is over, cause you fags can't spoiler.

Welcome to Sup Forums, newfag.

She joined her papa, mama and all those sisters killed in the last episode. She's happy now.

I guess ein caught up to her from that season 1 finale

Nah, it was the fact that she was about to make Akihiro feel happiness. That isn't allowed.

...

Superb work, trips!

my sides

...

What would be the most satisfying end to Jasley and Iok? They have doled out suffering in spades but having them die without any retribution would be boring for Tekkadan.

>McGillis and Tekkadan beat them to a pulp but don't kill them
>Jasley and Iok beg for help and are quickly disowned
>Akihiro kills them both personally

WELCOME TO GUNDAM

>rubber bullets

Iok will be the only Seven Star survivor of the new calamity war, because he gets lost on the way to the battle, and will become president of Earth . Tekkadan will be acknowledged as heroes of Mars and both sides will have to tolerate each other.

Iok, I imagined something like, that the rest of the Turbines crew, is gonna gangrape him with razorwired dildos.
Jasley, well he will feel the rage of Akahiro...

lol this was unexpected

Now expect Sopranos or Boardwalk Empire style of payback

this is what happens when you let douches badmouth your anniki

you gotta shut that shit down fast

>Lafter died in her funeral attire

How could she be the only one and why didn't she just dodge?

you know, reaction time isn't that fast...

If someone was pointing a gun at you, you need to cover.

Well it wouldn't make sense if they shot someone with no tekkadan connection

yes, but how often does that happen in a city area, so, she haven't seen the gun coming anyway...

>First shot is in the head and he never lowers his gun and keeps shooting after she falls down
>She is somehow hit in the gut

wtf

Refraction, user.

Orga is at the funeral, while Akihiro and the rest of tekkadan are shooting the shit out of those who planned all this

azee's scream was haunting
those few ah's as she realized what just happened were heartbreaking

when is atra gonna fug mikazuki?

SOON

>Do you want to make a baby
>Or shot traitors in the head?
>I think some company is overdue
>I've started talking to
>Barbatos on the hangar

She sounds like constipating.

If this was a better show...

Orga, in sombre suit and sunglasses, speaks with a solemn McMurdo. He accepts the older man's condolences quietly and with thanks. Jasley's men lurk in the trees and in the funeral party, ready to take both off at once. They have not considered that they are watched in turn...

Across town, Jasley and friends are celebrating their victory. Today Turbines, tomorrow the old man. And after that? Who knows? Who cares! Pinch faces watch them through binoculars, speak quietly into ear mics with soft voices, double check weapons with nimble fingers worn by work and not age. The watchers wait. The signal hasn't yet come. The word isn't yet given

The man who killed Lafter is going to see his girlfriend. He knocks on the door of her apartment. He's brought flowers and she's gotten herself ready for him. He's finally gotten enough together to get them out of here. They embrace. Akihiro waits in the stairwell, waits for the door to close, waits for his fists to unclench and for his nails to leave the meat of his palm. His fingers itch for the grip of the pistol under his armpit.

Orga knows what's waiting just outside of his vision, in the trees, behind the sunglasses and bulging jackets and faces he doesn't recognise. He idly wonders why McMurdo's men haven't come to the fore. The old man's probably giving him a chance to do this off his own bat. Prove himself worthy of his dear departed brother's esteem. Typical. He wonders what's taking Akihiro so long. The whole thing starts at Akihiro's word, or it should. He starts to sigh, catches himself. He'd hate to have to intervene.

1/?

2/?


The door doesn't take much forcing. The room's cheap and small and dull, just like the people in it. Flowers slump in the kitchentte's tiny sink. Akihiro doesn't feel very much as he sights along the barrel, takes first pressure. The woman doesn't look like anyone he knows and as what's left of her face sags in surprise he traverses left and up. He takes second pressure, looks into the mans eyes. He waits just long enough for his target to realise what hot spray has filled one ear and spattered one cheek.

Not too long.

Maybe he sees something he knows in those eyes. Loss, about to explode over a dull tongue. Anger. A need to hurt and hurt. He doesn't know and he doesn't care and by the time his trigger finger stops spasming and the gun stops bucking the mag's empty and the man's face is so much wet meat on the wall and bed and floor and wouldn't you know it's exactly like the shop and the bears and L-

-his stomach's empty. Too much drink left in him. Not any more. Shoes are a mess. Phone. One press of a key to bring the number up. One word to let the rest unfold, like a cheap flower in the sink of a maisonette under canned sunlight. He croaks out the words. He listens, hears. One more press to end the call. He goes back to throwing up. Through a vicious smile.

Orga's expression is hard as the young man at his shoulder leans down and over and whispers curtly. He's shorter, all badly cut hair and elbows and long legs and cheap suit. Gimcrack kiddy playing the big man. The sheathes and holsters and the eyes, the flat and wary eyes, are real. The dry voice is real. It says, the word is given. The word is real. The preacher's spending words by the dozen, warm words, words with which to enfold those who have lost and who are lost. It's a little rote. Orga's heard it and seen it all too many times before.

He knows how this next bit goes.

3/?

Cold brittle children go to do their part.

The papers don't say much. Several guests in a local gentleman's club, shot dead in a senseless act of gang violence. Motive unknown, possibly robbery. Rings, wallets, credit chips and watches, all gone. Who's to say, in this town of all places?

They don't mention that it wasn't just the loud flashy men in the champagne room. Wait staff, girls, the party of business men at the bar, the kitchen staff in the back, a tramp in the alley. A real spree. Or thoroughness. Maybe the former made to happen because of the needs of the latter.

They don't mention who died, not exactly. They don't mention Jasley or his hangers on, much less that he met his end under the guns of children. They certainly don't mention that what was left of his hands were curled around a cheap burner from a kiosk on the main way.

Perhaps he heard a familiar voice. If he did, no one else could know what was said in that brief call, except those who spoke. What was said, if anything way said at all, is surely lost to history. Certainly, before they both left Orga was seen to turn from McMurdo, to take out his phone. To hold it to his ear for only the briefest moment, perhaps to speak- though no one can say. To pocket it, turn back, walk away to the waiting car with his patron.

Bird song on the still air, and no more words.

4 u

Shit I'll take it anyway.

>>mfw tearful acceptance speech