ITT:WE ARE THE JOINT AMERICAN-AZTEC FORCES VS THE ARGENTINE-NAZI HORDE

-An eagle warrior, upon seeing the missile, smashes his way out of the windscreen of the cockpit. He doesn't notice the glass shards embedded in his skin, such is his fervour. He rushes towards the missile at high speed-

{For the Hummingbird Lord! For the Aztec Empire!}

-the eagle warrior brings his club to bear against the warhead with massive force. The explosion destroys all trace of either of them, but they are far enough away from the ship that it is not hit. The eagle warriors, realising the aircraft is pilotless, quickly bail out of the transport, which is now on a collision course for the canopy-

edited 2nd Sep '10 3:04:26 PM by MadeOfAxes

-Sparks, after hearing no response from his ground troops picks up the microphone again-

I say again, are you all right down there? Have you encountered any resistance?

-The transport slams into the ground, its wreckage strewn over a wide area. The pursuing fighter drops a single bomb to deny the vehicle to the enemy-

Oh...

-A group of the Freemason soldiers engage in close combat with the cyborgs, proving surprisingly deadly despite their lack of enhancements. One of them has a large radio on their back and picks up Spark's message. He transmits.-

"Broken arrow, broken arrow! We need whatever air assets you can throw at 'em, we're pinned down!"

edited 2nd Sep '10 3:08:15 PM by Flanker66

-Itzacoyotl sets off at high speed into the jungle, heading for the site of the fire-

-The Eagle Warriors soar across the top of the canopy, ducking under it to obscure any potential attacks from the fighters, and burst out at the landing zone, soaring up to take on the ground troops-

I'm on it. Keep at it.

-sparks turns on his chair and runs to a stack of papers. He takes one out and brings it back to his desk and picks up his phone-

Hello, it Sergeant Andrew Sparks requesting immediate air support to our troops below. Send some of the prototypes. Thanks.

-sparks sits down on his chair and takes out an golden amulet from his pocket. He begins to look at it as if he had never seen it before. The Vulture's hangars open up as three massive fighter planes drift out of the Command Center towards the ground, they begin to spray the cyborgs with bullets-

Night!

edited 3rd Sep '10 3:31:08 AM by Meta-ridley

-Itzacoyotl arrives at his destination, not far from the fighting. The rainforest around him is aflame, and the fire is spreading towards the base-

Itzacoyotl: Do these idiots have no respect for the land?

-The High Priest sighs, and begins to chant something under his breath-

Tlaloc, bless us with your rains, so that the your land might flourish.

-he beats his sceptre against the ground and looks skywards-

Tlaloc, bless us with your storms, so that this unholy blaze my be put out.

-the clouds overhead begin to darken and grow-

Tlaloc, bless us with your thunder, so that these interlopers will truly know the wrath of a god.

-There is a thunderclap, and rain begins to fall-

Tlaloc, bless us with your lightning, to strike down these invaders who defy you!

-Far off in the depths of the forest, there is a clattering of bones, teeth, and metal-

What is the region we're currently in?

-those cyborgs engaging in melee combat with the Freemasons prove to be extraordinarily durable, taking punishment that would kill an ordinary man ten times over and fighting on nonetheless. One of the AA cyborgs comes apart as a missile strike it; the other two retract their spinal cannons and step into the underbrush, vanishing from sight-

-one particularly burly cyborg eyes the newcomers with a cold mechanical glare. He crouches down, as though preparing for a long jump, and leaps high into the air as his legs suddenly extend and slam into the earth like pistons. He catapults towards the nearest of the three large fightercraft, landing on the cockpit's windowpane with a heavy thud, and his left hand twists and contorts into the blade of an industrial buzzsaw with a series of sickening squishes and squelches-

¡Toda la gloria al presidente! ¡Toda la gloria al imperio azteca!

-the blade whirrs to screeching life as he begins to cut into the pane-

-the pilot smiles as he pushes some buttons, the craft begins to drop towards the earth-

-Seeing no other option, Thunderchief uses his fighter as a battering ram, hoping to use its momentum and agility to devastating effect against the Eagle Warriors-

C'mere!

-One of the warriors is reduced to paste by the impact. Unfortunately, the entrails go all over the windscreen, effectively blinding Thunderchief's pilot. The others band together to attack one of Sparks' prototypes, using their obsidian swords and clubs to hack into the armour-

-A torrent of rain comes down out of the clouds gathered overhead. The downpour is of such a magnitude that it begins to extinguish the flames-

Eh, I don't like havin' to go IFR, but...

-Thunderchief (or Fred Norman, to give him his proper name) starts monitoring his instruments, using those to provide guidance. Handily enough, the chin turret also has a bullet proof camera that can see in a variety of conditions-

How do y'like me now?

-He continues on his rampage, firing at any Eagle Warriors that are too far away or maneuverable to ram-

IFR stands for Instrument Flight Rules. As you may have guessed, when using IFR the pilot relies solely on internal instruments for navigation, etc. The ones Thunderchief uses are powered by a combination of ley lines and an electrical generator. And before anyone asks "why hasn't his aircraft been trashed by the first impact?", you've got to remember that it's a military machine, and also this is an alternate history, where (theoretically) the Freemasons could have used special enchantments to strengthen the aircraft's airframe, etc.

-the cyborg's expression does not change, and he continues to saw into the window pane; in another five seconds, he will have cut a hole big enough to fit his arm through-

Sorry Meta-Ridley for assuming control of your character, but they otherwise would have done nothing.

-Panic rising in his mind, the pilot fires any guns that would have a chance of hitting the cyborg at his current location-

"Oh god..."

-from inside the prototype the cyborg can hear clanking and whirs, three seconds later sheets of metal on the craft start to slide and split. The craft smashes into the ground with a bang, and after the dust settles there is a 20ft tall iron colossus, holding the cyborg in a armored claw, squeezing the life out of it. The speakers on the colossus ring out, the pilots voice being heard-

{No chance, Nazi scum!}

-the other aircrafts engines fire up and it glides away from the eagle warriors, firing bullets and missiles at them-

No worries Flanker, but I've replied now. :)

edited 3rd Sep '10 10:24:16 AM by Meta-ridley

-Prospero Augustine watches the transformation and appearance of the large mech with a displeased smile. He begins typing on his old-fashioned typewriter interface; in the forest, the cyborgs pull back while maintaining fire, quickly vanishing into the foliage. Then the comandante pulls the microphone to his mouth and begins to speak-

Amigos, the Americans have brought in a heavy weapons platform. Begin thawing El chupacabra, and ready Lift Seven-Five-Nine in Sector Five-Alpha.

¡Sí sir, comandante Augustine! ¡Viven de largo el imperio azteca y el Tercer Reich!

-deep below the jungle, a vat of a frozen substance is moved by forklifts and conveyers into a launch chute of some sort. Technicians wearing the colours of Nazi Germany and Fascist Argentina quickly begin heating the substance via flamethrowers, and the gel begins to twitch...-

-the colossus transforms back into a gunship and drifts upwards, attempting to blast the eagle warriors with gun-fire. Meanwhile on the Vulture Sparks picks up his microphone-

Ground forces, this is Sparks again. Has the situation improved?

"The enemy's retreated, we're trying to secure the area and set up some base of fire elements... we've taken casualties, though. Can you spare med-evac?"

-It is evident from the soldier's voice that he's been through a lot recently, and he breathes heavily from exhertion-

-The Eagle Warriors press on, although many of them have been mown down by the prototype's fire. The one who do reach the collossus/aircraft slice their way in as if it was made of paper rather than steel, and emerge inside the machine-

-the contents of the vat have almost completely thawed out; the gellike substance burbles and groans as the technicians stick enormous paddles covered in blinking lights into its mass, and begin to stir and sculpt it into a semi-humanoid shape. Running lights turn on up the length of the shaft; in the jungle above, a forty-foot square section of the ground splits open in four triangular pieces and recedes into the earth-

El chupacabra has awakened and launch chute Seven-Five-Nine is clear, comandante. Your orders?

-Augustine stares at the mech on his bank of monitors and smiles-

Launch.

Si, comandante Augustine.

-the contents of the vat are dumped onto the platform just as it begins to rocket skyward, propelling the gel humanoid up to the surface in a matter of seconds-

-The thunderstorm continues, and spidery lightning comes down, striking down several of the Freemason soldiers-

-The eagle warriors set upon the first things (wires, pistons, fuel tanks, personnel) that they encounter once they have breached the colossi's armour-

-the pilot grins as the eagle warriors enter the room-

Dodge This!!

-the pilot hits a button, inside of the aircraft whir as parts turn and twist, metal begins jutting out of the walls and flying about madly. The pilot performs some perfect dodge maneuvers, narrowly dodging the metal and jumping over gaps-

-sparks speaks softly into the mic-

Don't worry. You'll have some evac in a few minutes. We've got some supplies on the Vulture.

-the sides of the Vulture open up again and two dropships fly out, gliding towards the ground troops-

-the gelatinous humanoid turns to look at the inbound dropships, a pair of small dimples forming on its head to serve as eyes. Then its face splits open, revealing a mouth full of metal and teeth, and it unleashes an oddly-muffled, ear-splitting roar that reverberates throughout the jungle. It slowly begins to lumber towards them, its every movement accompanied by a squelch, and suddenly its mouth inverts, protruding outwards from its face like the proboscis of some colossal and obscene butterfly to stab at the nearer of the two transports-

-in his command center, Augustine smiles-

Excellent...El chupacabra is performing far better than I had hoped it would.

edited 3rd Sep '10 12:45:39 PM by SullenFrog

-The man moves purposefully through pathways invisible to all but him, using branches and vines to move faster than any could on the ground.-

Wait... Can you...

-He pauses, the wind sounding like an ancient voice, then shrugs and heads off again.-

"Activities at Delta Tango Three. Looks like they've sent a blob of Jell-O."

From a small lookout post hidden in the jungle, a man observes the situation with a pair of titanium-coloured binoculars, the lenses faintly glowing blue.

"Looks like we'll have to intervene."