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[Bane of No Isles]

IC. Bad Company.

The Bad Company. The name was almost clownish. Bad. Company. Company designated by how bad they were. She had sort of laughed at it when she had first heard it, but now there was a pit in her stomache when she was reminded how truly bad they were. She had never met the Turaga, because after all, how could she have? They never dabbled their toes in Xa-Koro. But she had heard stories. Stories of how, even in their old age, they were heroes to the Matoran, and to the arriving Toa. However, she had no love for them. They were about as elitist as you could get. It would be an honor to destroy the ones who had probably instigated Xa-Koro and its horrors.

"I just got this job. I don't plan on losing it the first day," Liacada answered grimly, sighing.

She stood back and crossed her arms, looking at the ground. Surely someone had to agree with her. Surely they wouldn't all be Turaga-loving heroes. She looked into the eyes of the rest of the Bad Company, and hoped they could still be a team. Without this new shot, this new chance at life, she would keep on drifting. If there was one thing she had learned by living on a stationary rock in the ocean full of druggies and killers, it was that drifters didn't survive.

Edited by Relapse, Dec 19 2012 - 11:18 PM.

[Visaru]

IC- Laki - Near Xa-Koronan Arks

 

Away from the group of mercenaries, Laki sat on a rock. He tossed a small shard of stone he had found into the air, watching it spin. It was pretty. Its patterns were unpredictable. The two ends of the stone turned and twisted opposite one another, and patterns in the rock flipped in and out of view. The rock’s airborne gyrations were mesmerizing to the forlorn matoran. 

 

He watched it rise into the air again and again, the sun shining through the eyeholes in his mask as he raised his head slightly to watch the thing. 

 

He had taken notice of the brightness and heat of the uncomfortable desert, but found himself unable to care. Le-Koro was home, and he belonged there. This dark dream couldn’t change that. He just needed to let himself get taken along for the ride, and eventually home would find him.

 

Laki’s mind wasn’t focusing on that- no, he was entirely pulled in by the small sliver of rock. That was all he thought about, that was what filled his brain- the movements of the rock. 

[Norik The Blood Elf]

IC: Feran
[color=ff8c00]Feran nodded. Xa-Koro destroyed, this was going to mess things up. Xa Koroans would blame the mainlanders, mainlanders would shoot those who threatened them, now that the Islets had sunk, and the perpetrators would take advantage of the chaos.
"So where do we come in?" He repeated Baranx's question.

Edited by Norik Astartes, Dec 20 2012 - 04:43 AM.

[JL v2]

IC: Flay

 

"That," She said, "Is not for us to decide. For all we know, it could just be a natural phenomenon that caused the sinking of the islets."

[ZHX]

IC: Lasinia

 

Lasinia merely watched the waters silently, a rather surprising thing for the usually energetic Toa of Lightning. The news of the destruction of the Islets had affected her greatly, especially seeing that she had learnt her tinkering skills there.

 

"When I find those responsible," she said quietly. "I won't let them die easily. I want to watch them squirm. I want to hear their screams. I want to BASK IN THEIR SUFFERING."

[Ghosthands]

IC (Lohkar)

 

"Know what ya mean, love," Lohkar replied from the helm.  "We won't let Xa-Koro be forgotten.  An' I swear to you, we're gonna find 'em an' beat 'em ta Karzahni.  Trouble is, we have ta find 'em first..."

 

With Gunner's wind in the sleek Lesterin ship's sails, the Infernavika made swift progress, already passing the Leva Peninsula.  Lohkar carefully turned their course southwards, and soon the greenery of Ga-Wahi was visible in the distance.

Edited by Illusive Ghosthands, Dec 20 2012 - 04:52 PM.

[Floridian Citrus]

IC: Liikyra

 

"Shut up."

 

Her mood hadn't improved much in the past few hours.  Or since the sand-storm.  Or actually at all.  It probably started when Kughii had "saved" her the first time.  Yeah, Liikyra didn't want to think about that.  At all.  Ever.  Burning it from memory was probably the best thing to do.  If the vortixx wanted to live after the Toa could move again.

 

Unfortunately, there wan't much she could do at the moment.  Besides send more death glares that weren't feeling as effective as when she first thrown them at him.  Liikyra gave a defeated sigh, and glanced around at her surroundings.  She was stuck with him, whether she liked it or not.  And he was taking her through the desert, the least she could do is try to be greatfull.  It was harder than it sounded.   Her ribs still hurt, but it was more of a dull ache rather than a sharp spike.  For now, just as long as she didn't move that much.

 

Why had she saved Kughii again?

 

Oh right, she was a Toa.

 

Lovely.

[Half a Cup of EW]

OOC Caerus from Onu-Wahi

 

 

IC (Caerus)

 

An Ussal cart trundled along the rocky road that stretched through the vast desert, carrying only two occupants. One was its Onu-Matoran driver; the other was a sweating poet.

 

Caerus was being reminded why he didn't often journey out of Onu-Koro. Half of the island wasn't just uncomfortable, but downright inhospitable. Who in their right mind would live under a glacier, in the shadow of an active volcano, or in the middle of a sun-scorched desert? He thought longingly of the cool caves of Onu-Koro; his dry mouth salivated at the thought of sipping a cold, refreshing beverage while writing a poem dedicated to the joy of living underground.

 

Sweat dripped off his face as the Matoran took a drink of lukewarm water, and inwardly cursed the wretched heat.

 

So it is obvious that cart pulled into Po-Koro at last with no small amount of joy on Caerus' part. After paying the driver, he immediately made his way to the nearest tavern, where he ordered a cold mug of beer and a small meal (the heat took away his appetite).

 

After recuperating for awhile, the poet found himself in much better spirits. Sipping at his second glass of alcohol, he watched as the setting sun dipped down towards the horizon, turning the desert sands to gold.

 

It was almost time.

 

 

 

 

IC (Jin)

 

Oh, karz.

 

My shocked mind really couldn't produce a thought more eloquent than that.

 

Yeah, I was shocked. Sure, I'd just watched an island of innocent people drown the other day, and before that I'd spent my life running suicide missions that just so happened to end with me sticking a knife down someone's gullet and not the other way around.

 

But what Bry was suggesting here was worse, in a way.

 

For one thing, these Turaga, from what I'd heard (never met any of 'em personally), were your run-of-the-mill nice guys. Kind, wise, and old, and every Matoran with half a brain would spout on for a solid five minutes about how cool their particular leader was. Not that I really cared what they thought, but it just went to show that these people were basically good at heart. Innocent. Didn't do bad stuff.

 

And I was being asked to straight-up murder one of them in cold blood.

 

What was the point? This obviously wasn't Bry's idea (he looked more uncomfortable with it than I felt), so that left Aurelia. I guessed this fit in with her grand scheme, which also included sinking Xa and sending an army on a suicide mission to Le-Koro. No clue what her big plan was, but I had a feeling it wasn't pretty. Reduce the island to chaos and ashes? Most likely.

 

Did I really want to be a part of this? Not gonna lie: after Kumu, I'd had a hard time getting my head back together. Forget about the business with Dor (still didn't know what had been going on last night, and didn't really want to know either); my mind had been running in circles ever since we'd stood by as a doomed island full of innocent people sank to the bottom of the sea. I still couldn't fully believe that I'd done that. I'd not only watched and done nothing, but I'd helped.

 

I'd made my choice then; however much it killed me now, there wasn't anything I could do about it. You can't go back and fix the past. But here was another choice. I could change what happened before it happened.

 

I blinked. That was a weird thought. Obviously I was thinking too hard about this.

 

Let's start with the basics: Aurelia was willing to pay me a pretty penny for the work I'd already done. I could take the money, hightail it out of there, and escape with what little self-respect I had left.

 

Wait... when was this an issue of self-respect?

 

I was the greatest mercenary in the world. I wasn't a small-time girl; no, I'd broken into the big leagues. When Brykon needed a harbour of ships scuttled, he put me, Jin, on the job. When a ship needed someone in charge, that person just so happened to be Jin, Vortixx extraordinaire. Now I was being offered another job, one that not just anybody could do.

 

No... Brykon was offering this job because we were the best of the best. You wouldn't task some dumb Skakdi to kill the Turaga; no, you sent the best. This was the kind of mission that people became famous for.

 

I mentally shook myself. No! How could I accept a mission that entailed killing innocents for money? Had I really sunk so far? Bry was telling me to go and cut some elder's throat, someone who'd done nothing against me or anyone else on the island as far as I knew.

 

But, I argued against myself. Don't you do that already?

 

That was my job. I accepted targets for money, and I murdered them. No way to put it more bluntly than that. None of my targets (well, except for that Skakdi who tried to make out... ew) had ever done me wrong, but I'd done them off just the same. I'd lied, cheated, connived, stole, and murdered for money. For reputation. And, yes, even just for the thrill of the hunt. This was just another assignment. It would be a challenge, but hey, that's why I was getting this mission, and not some nitwit with a big sword.

 

Really, was it any different? This was just another gang leader picking off a guy he had a grudge against. I didn't know why Aurelia needed the Turaga dead, but it was my job to do, not to know. To karz with knowing. All that mattered was that I got the job done and got paid. Thats the way it had always been. That's all I needed.

 

Nobody owed me anything, and I wouldn't be caught dead owing anything to anyone else. That was why I was going to take this assignment, and do it, and do it right.

 

I nodded. “I'm in. Which one am I going for?”

Edited by Eyru Bieber, Dec 21 2012 - 03:37 AM.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: Three Turaga down, Brykon thought. Three more to go.

 

The colonel had to be careful in his selection. If he sent someone or a pair to kill a Turaga and they decided to leave, then that would present a huge liability. He had to see to it that as many Turaga were murdered at once, if not all of them. If one was left standing, news of the huge disaster would spread like wildfire and alert the villages with living turagas. Those villages would then either put their elders in greater protection or, worse, hide them and make it impossible to kill them.

 

But Jin's agreement to see through this ordeal elated the stoic tobacco chomper. Ever since Dorian returned from the Mark Bearers Brykon wished to replace him as deputy. Aurelia's pressing to elevate the former Bearer to commander of Bad Company only served to make Brykon more urged to find a suitable replacement, and in Jin he had found just the right combination of ability and intelligence to do the job. He had given her tasks, including the sabotage of the ships at pier, and she had done it admirably and efficiently. He had given her command while he was away and she kept the entire team from getting green. And it seemed that even Aurelia had taken that brevet appointment at face value, giving her the orders for Brykon instead of Dorian. Things looked okay.

 

As for Dorian, well... Brykon had done everything he wanted to do for the once-prideful and scornful young toa. He had taught him all that he could. It was up to Dorian now to make himself a true man; no amount of punching and mask-shattering can do that alone. He had been shaped, now he had to let himself out of the house and be weathered. But Brykon couldn't dismiss him outright. This opportunity would allow the Fe-Toa to grow by himself and find his own purpose. His departure was inevitable. He always was a better freelancer than a company man, anyway.

 

But at the same time, there was the chance that Dorian would see the job through and return anyway. Brykon couldn't say he understood his psyche totally. By pairing the two potential deputies, though, he would find out who would be the more famed returnee. "Jin, you and Dorian will kill Turaga Vakama." The purpose was not just because of the dynamic between the two and the potential for conflict, but also a purely practical application: Dorian had worked in Ta-Koro before and knew the alleys well enough.

 

"Liacada, I want you to kill Whenua in Onu-Koro." She was already professing loyalty. She could work well enough alone, just like she did in the slums of Xa-Koro all the years past. The darkness of the earth city would create a familiar atmosphere she could exploit to her advantage, too.

 

"Illicia, you and Sev are to assassinate Onewa in Po-Koro." Illicia was loyal enough to the money she got, and while Brykon could sense she had a thing for Dorian, she could be manipulated into believing that by carrying her task out she could still be with Dorian when he came back. Though Brykon wasn't sure about the reality, it was a neat trick he could pull. As for Sev... The Vortixx seemed elusive and Brykon never really did figure out his motives well enough. He was the gamble; if he didn't do the job, Brykon hoped to something Illicia pulled through,

 

"Grokk, you can kill the lady. Nokama of Ga-Koro is yours." Grokk was in it for the money and gadgets. So long as Brykon and his bosses delivered there was little to question his loyalty. "Do know that we have allies in Ga-Koro in the form of the 'Arete.' Be sure to use them to your advantage. You're a smart man," he said, keeping a straight face.

 

That left two Turaga. Matau would already be on high guard thanks to the army that attacked Le-Koro already, but thankfully there was a silent killer from a distance already in the company: "Marfoir, you are to kill Turaga Matau in the high-flying singy-songy town-village of Le-Koro," he said, purposely butchering the dialect. "I am sure your rifle will work wonders there. I know it will," he smiled, referring to his past experiences with the weapon.

 

"I will kill Turaga Nuju in Ko-Koro. These murders are to occur by the second nightfall from now at as close as you can reasonably muster to midnight. When your jobs are finished, assemble in the Tiro Canyon. I will be there with your payments. And people..." he paused, thinking of his words before saying them. "If you don't come back, I wish nothing but the best from the blackest of my heart. It was good to work with each of you. Now take your money and go. There is work to be done."

[ZHX]

IC: [Treize]

 

"Ga-Koro to Batman, Ga-Koro to Batman. Do you copy?"

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Marfoir:

 

Marfoir nodded, catching the payment and tossing it back-he wouldn't have much use for it, after all-the news of his asignment quickly received. Now, it was time for another test of his skills. And this time, his rifle was his rifle. Nobody else got to touch it. That reminded him...

 

He pulled his rifle out of its case, checking the scope. In the use that it had received from Brykon and Liacada, it had been put slightly out of alignment. That was easly fixed, though, simply requiring a screwdriver to make the slight adjustment. The rifle needed reloaded, something that Brykon had decided to neglect. Silly Toa.

 

Again, he was somewhat annoyed at how his rifle had been taken from him-and neglected in care-but he could fix it back up. And then he'd use it to kill the Turaga.

 

"I'll be back in a day or so," he told the group, before he picked up a waterskin and began to skim the coastline. First he'd stop back in Ga-Koro, pick up a few supplies, and after that, onward to Le-Koro. Why wasn't he taking a boat? Simple. He wanted to seem like one of the new, brainless Vortixx to come to the island.

Edited by The Otter, Dec 21 2012 - 07:02 PM.

[Bane of No Isles]

IC. Bad Company.

She had once heard of Whenua, the Turaga of earth. The Turaga of Onu-Koro, one of the Koros most like the Kumu Islets. He was old and kind, but strong and wise. A hero to the Matoran he led. Beyond that, a father to them as well. Now, it was her job to find the flame that burned so deep underground, and subsequently extinguish it without a second thought.

She had said she could do it, and truly she could. Just as well as Jin, or Brykon, or any of the others. But should she? Should she kill one of the last island-wide heroes? Was it even morally acceptable to anyone? Yes, she was being paid, but payment even begin to justify selling one's soul? Could killing the Turaga ever be forgiven? She realized the answer to that question was very simple:

No.

And still, she took her money and departed from the group. Off to Po-Koro first, to learn the way to Onu-Koro, and finally to learn the way to Whenua's hut to assassinate him. She had felt a chill, a frightened feeling when Xa-Koro was going to be destroyed, but now she felt resigned. She knew what she was going to do now, and she couldn't stop herself.

[Mr. Peanuts]

OOC:

IC (Lohkar/Hahkes)

 

Lohkar tossed Tellus a copy of the Mata Nui Daily.

 

"It's all in there," he said grimly.  "An' not just Xa-Koro.  The entire Islets.  Swallowed up by the ocean.  People reckon it's Makuta's doin', but even for 'im, that's pretty destructive.  They're saying the death toll was pretty much one 'undred percent..."

 

"Gone?" said a voice from behind Lohkar.  He turned to see his fellow Lesterin, staring at Lohkar with a frown.  "How can Xa-Koro be gone?"

 

"I don't know, mate..." Lohkar replied, his voice apologetic.  "I'm sorry about the Black Spot..."

 

"Gah, who cares about one inn, even if it was my pride and joy?  Think about all those people, Lohkar...so many people, just gone.  Not all good, not all innocent, but they were all people...and they're all gone..."

 

Lohkar put a hand on Hahkes' shoulder.

 

"I understand," he said.  "Artahka knows, I understand.  An' I promise ya, mate, I'll find out who did this an' we'll avenge 'em."

 

He turned away, leaping up the steps to the helm.

 

"An' we're not goin' ta do that by just sittin' here!" he said.  "Weigh anchor!  Prepare ta set sail!  Gunner - some wind in the sails, if ya please."

 

With the crew heaving on the ropes and the First Mate providing his elemental thrust, the Inferavika picked up speed, shooting out of the cave entrance like a bat out of Karzahni.  The sleek ship sliced through the waves, with Lohkar's determined hands on the wheel.  Lohkar didn't know what he was looking for, but he knew where he was going to look next: the nearest village to what used to be the Kumu Islets: Le-Koro.

 

IC: Near Lohkar was a presence. Robed in shadow, comprised of darkness, its body was as immaterial as the wind that rustled its fabric. Its figure was that of an umbra listlessly drifting. It was immortal, yet without identity. It had lived thousands of years without a name and would live thousands more without that or any bit of identity. It was the Cloak and the Cloak was it. There was no more to be said.

 

But the Cloak had intelligence. Its shadow held a machine of a mind that relentlessly worked to scythe down improbabilities and promote the plausible, thinking, calculating as it threw dice again and again to determine which were loaded and which were to be tossed. It did not feel. It thought, and from thought the Cloak drew incontrovertible power. Its sapience was godlike in alien perspective and utterly detached from the trappings of sensation. 

 

The Cloak perceived the heavy words of its 'captain' with this intelligence. In that sapience, something paused. One of many mental paths to solutions closed permanently. Another opened, followed by dozens more. Its gears turned to rewrite hardware and author a new plan. The Cloak had discarded and drew another hand, another die tossed and another die to roll.

 

It did not feel. It thought, and from thought Zmija Lys'Fagas drew incontrovertible power. 

 

There was no more to be said.

Edited by Norman Efiks, Dec 21 2012 - 04:49 PM.

[Norik The Blood Elf]

IC: Feran
"Okay, so now we're rested and all, where do we recruit the newest Team member?" Feran asked.

[JL v2]

IC: Feran
"Okay, so now we're rested and all, where do we recruit the newest Team member?" Feran asked.

OOc: Turaga assassination in two days time? Lets go, guys!

On a completely unrelated note, final final call for my Living mask plot. Even though you can join later.

IC: Flay turned to Feran, a somewhat annoyed look in her eyes. "I fear my recruitment schedule will not be fast enough. There are conspiracies in the air, and the sooner we act, the better off we all are. The last person will have to wait; we have to go, very soon."

A boat. That was the quickest way to Ta-Koro. But would it be fast enough? She still needed further orders on what to do with the team. As the leader of this team, she answered to the Guard.

Home. Time to go home. Where the water was scarce and the air was full of ash and dust.

Where the flames of revolution would ignite.

Edited by JL v2, Dec 22 2012 - 06:36 AM.

[Wotsiznaim]

IC: Illicia

 

Not being a native of the island and having barely a qualm about killing innocents, Illicia was hardly as shaken as many of the other members of Bad Company were. Watching an entire islet be swallowed by the ocean had disturbed her somewhat, but killing some old guy wasn't quite the same.

 

What she was infinitely more concerned about was being paired with Sev. Since she had first laid eyes on him she had been certain he was going to be an issue, and more than a little untrustworthy. It didn't help in the slightest that he was another Vortixx; she, especially, knew full well not to trust another Vortixx, especially one as troublesome as Sev. He could drop out at any moment, or stab her in the back, or turncoat or-

 

No. Best to keep focused on the mission rather than cloud the mind with worries and doubts about old Sev. Best to keep an eye on him though. Two eyes.

 

She snapped her fingers in front of him and gestured in the rough direction of Po-Koro. "Let's go," she turned to the others, who were now beginning to depart as well. "See you all on the other side."

 

As she turned away to leave, her eyes rested on Brykon for a second or two. She could see the knowledge in his eyes of her motivations, and the mutual concerns about Sev. And then she was gone, marching off into the desert sands a few steps behind her teammate. They had a Turaga to kill.

[Ghosthands]

IC (Lohkar)

 

Lohkar took a sideways glance...well...sideways, at the disembodied cloak beside him.

 

"Erm..." he cleared his throat.  "I'm not sure we've been introduced..."

[ZHX]

IC: Lasinia

 

"That's Mr. Explodey Guy's friend."

[Norik The Blood Elf]

IC: Feran
"Okay, so now we're rested and all, where do we recruit the newest Team member?" Feran asked.

OOc: Turaga assassination in two days time? Lets go, guys!

On a completely unrelated note, final final call for my Living mask plot. Even though you can join later.

IC: Flay turned to Feran, a somewhat annoyed look in her eyes. "I fear my recruitment schedule will not be fast enough. There are conspiracies in the air, and the sooner we act, the better off we all are. The last person will have to wait; we have to go, very soon."

A boat. That was the quickest way to Ta-Koro. But would it be fast enough? She still needed further orders on what to do with the team. As the leader of this team, she answered to the Guard.

Home. Time to go home. Where the water was scarce and the air was full of ash and dust.

Where the flames of revolution would ignite.

/END QUOTE//////
OOC: Revolution?
IC: Feran
Feran noticed Flay's annoyed look.
Oh no, I made a mistake with my words, he thought.
"Alright, ma'amm."

[Ghosthands]

IC (Lohkar)

 

"Doomslayer's friend?" Lohkar replied, eyebrows raised.  He turned back to Zmija, holding out his hand.  "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

 

Lohkar's usual disarming grin curved his features.

[Mr. Peanuts]

IC: The Cloak uncoiled an arm and raised it. One gloved hand emerged from the dark. It wrapped its slight fingers around the Lesterin's once, shaking the larger appendage slightly before retreating.

[Ghosthands]

IC (Lohkar)

 

"Aherm..." Lohkar continued, a slightly bemused expression on his face.  His mouth moved as though he was half-way through forming several words, but cancelled each one before release.

 

He turned to Lasinia.

 

"Doesn't talk much, does he...she..." Lohkar swung round to look at Zmija again, "...it?"

[Nuju Metru]

IC:

As Brykon doled out the jobs to the rest of Baa-Company ('cuz they're acting like sheep, geddit?), I picked at a piece of desert wood I'd found lying around. I plucked a sharp splinter from it, and stuck it between my teeth to use as a toothpick. I used my tongue to move it from one gap to the next, plucking out what was left of my lunch. I have a huge amount of oral dexterity, if you didn't know. It's a point of pride for me. 

 

It'd been far too long since I'd had a good ol' fashioned assassination on my desk. And the kill was a highly important person, too - all the better. It was refreshing to finally have something worth doing, I can tell you that much - ever since Island Apocalypse Boom III, we had really just been doing a lot of traveling.

 

While I'd entertained myself playing road games like "I spy" with Dorian (including on the boat: "I spy with my little eye, something big, something blue, something sparkly-" "Is it the sea?" "No, Dor-dor, it's that whale popping out of the water." "What whale?" "That whale." "I don't see a whale," whereupon I had pulled my dangling hand out of the water; it held the sopping scarf, which I proceeded to swoosh about with whale noises), those had gotten old pretty quickly. Say what you like about me - how handsome I am, how smart and clever, how strong, how quick, how charming, how huggable, whatever - but know that I get bored easily. It does me good to have something to do. Also to get money. So I had many reasons to accept Bry's assignment.

 

 "Will do, bossman," I grinned, giving a too-sharp salute as Brykon continued dishing out assignments. I juggled the splinter in my mouth thoughtfully; I had gotten the best one, of course... what's not to love about going to kill somebody in what is essentially a giant swimming pool filled with the most attractive Toa on the island. I'd have a good time on this job.

 

"So long, suckers," I sang as I skipped away towards Po-Koro. From there I would charter (steal) a boat and hire (coerce) a crew, then request (shoot somebody and make demands) that we voyage to Ga-Koro. This would be a lot of fun. I spat out my splinter in the sand, and it landed like an itsy bitsy flagpole. Too enamored of this metaphor to leave it be, I stuck a nearby piece of ripped napkin, karz knows how that got here, on the splinter, making it a real flag. "Grokkland," I proclaimed proudly to myself. Then I carried on my way.

[Floridian Citrus]

IC: Puroruk

 

Dusk.  Sunlight streamed through the crystalline window, the red tinted golden light diffused by the crystal scratched by hundreds of sandstorms.  It played across ridges and cuts within a polished stone, casting blue shadows over the opposite end of the piece.  A large form suddenly rushed past it, its footsteps echoling across the hallway, breaking the light streaming onto the piece of work.  A dark cloak billowed in the being's wake, concealing all but the feet of the carver's burly form.  A fedora was pulled low over his head, obscuring his features almost entirely.

 

He was, for all the world, just a traveler.  Hidden within the cloak was a dagger, with a blade of bronze protosteel and a hilt of both metal and stone.  Puroruk didn't just make sculptures, as it seemed.  However, his hammer was nowhere to be seen.  With a rush of air, the door closed tightly behind him, and the Po-Matoran started off towards his destination, a small piece of parchment slipped within his cloak.  It was almost time.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: Aurelia's golden carriage arrived and stood in silence awaiting a second passenger. After a moment, a matoran with earmuffs, a satchel and an ice box emerged from a street and climbed in. The carriage zoomed off immediately afterwards.

 

Ambages and Aurelia sat in silence next to each other until Po-Koro was out of view and only sand and bastions of rock could be seen around. A thick cloud of dust trailed behind them, but they were not interested in being overly clandestine. Still, Ambages produced a paper and pencil from his bag and laid it on his lap before scribbling. The things we do to not be heard. He handed it to his companion.

 

Aurelia refused to take it, instead merely smiling thinly and nodding.

 

Lothar? the architect wrote, concerning the fellow -- former? -- Peer doctor.

 

The Onu-Matoran nodded again but accepted the pad this time. Brykon used his ship to leave. No confirmation, but that man sees everything through.

 

Now it was Ambages' turn to nod and smile. He had an intense like of Brykon and his brutal efficiency, and while he was sometimes brash and apt to do things his own way, he still proved to be a very capable toa to have on their side. For being a master bad egg in a bad egg basket he was working out swimmingly. I have found a replacement for Huascar, this name being that of the Peer tasked with overseeing the destruction of Pala-Koro, which purposely was to destroy him as well. A carver who knows well how to create and destroy.

 

Aurelia waved for the pad with some energy. And I have chosen a replacement for Lothar, she wrote. A poet who -knows-.

 

Ambages wrote, Caerus?

 

Aurelia: Puroruk?

 

They smiled and nodded at each other as if commending one another for being on the same level of wit and deciphering the others' riddle. They sat stoically for a while until a new thread appeared in the man's head. Good job in Xa. News spread quickly. Le-Koro was attacked on time and the villages are up at arms and alert.

 

Aurelia gave a very broad and sinister smile as she wrote down, BC is on the next task already. The villages won't have a clue what hit them. Tomorrow at midnight. Ambages nodded with satisfaction, but he knew it wasn't over until it was done. While he knew Brykon would see the job done, he still was apprehensive about any plan's success, thus was his cautious nature that also produced that ad hoc meeting with secretive communication.

 

The carriage was near the Quarry by then and stopped at the outer entrance to empty its occupants before carrying on into the sunset. Aurelia and Ambages were the first ones to arrive, of course, and entered the quarry with confidence. Before the carriage left, though, Ambages took a moment to open the ice box and remove an icicle from it which he carried in his hand.

 

The quarry was empty by that hour; the last of the hewers had left an hour before the sunset to make it back to their huts. All that remained in the quarry was a token guard to keep the rahi and thieves out. The man emerged from a crevice and stood up to the two travelers. "Halt!" he declared.

 

Ambages didn't bother with a reply and strode calmly to the guard before quickly thrusting the icicle under his jaw and into his brain. The guard's eyes blinked out with his heartlight as suddenly as he had come to stop the wealthy travelers from exploring the quarry. It would be morning before his body would be found, and by then the meeting would have been long over. The icicle would have melted by then, too, refusing even a wearer of a Kanohi of Psychometry knowledge of what truly occurred. The fit De-matoran hauled the body to the crevice he had come from and stood him up, so to appear like he was on the job. What a good lad.

 

The pathway cleared, the two matoran stepped over to Onua's head and waited for the others to arrive. Aurelia gave him a look and Ambages nodded. He tore the pages they had written on from his notebook and crumple them up before stuffing them into his mouth. He uncorked a bottle of vinegar and sipped a gulp before swishing it in his mouth and spitting it out. All that remained was a glob of fiber. Papyrus was such a useful paper sometimes.

 

Ambages produced a key from his satchel and inserted it into the slot in the carved gate. It parted and allowed them entrance.

[ZHX]

IC: Lasinia

 

"She."

[Ghosthands]

IC (Lohkar)

 

"Thanks."

[Dreadheart]

OOC: I'm back! Sorry about the hold-up, Cadias.

 

IC: Gunner - Infernavika

 

The 'Vika rolled across the waters towards Le-Wahi, carving a through the relentless waves like butter. The ship rocked gently despite that, though, shifting balance ever-so-slightly with every new tide. The subtle motion triggered a memory, from my first days as a pirate with Lohkar, when the ever-present movement had nearly left in a constant state of nausea. Now, it was like second nature. It was comforting, even for someone as hardened as me.

 

Mata Nui knew we all needed a little comforting right now.

 

Mata Nui, the Kumu islets...

 

Finished with pushing wind into the sails, I walked across the decks slowly, my eyes catching glimpses of each of the crew members, looking for their reactions. Anger, sadness, shock... they were emotions which invariably showed up in these circumstances, and this was no exception.

 

However, if anyone were to look at me, they would spend all night searching for such responses. I was the odd man out. Even after learning that Xa-Koro was gone, with everyone who once lived there dead, I felt... nothing. I didn't cry, or collapse, or curse the gods for sacrificing so many lives for nothing. Karz, I didn't make any sort of Gunner-ish comment. I just walked, with a horribly empty feeling inside my soul. It was an old wound, which I had thought healed. 

 

Cautiously, I placed a hand on Lohkar's back, my gaze locked on the ground.

 

"I'm sorry captain," I murmured, barely loud enough to be heard.

 

-Void

Edited by Emissary to the Void, Dec 22 2012 - 09:03 PM.

[Floridian Citrus]

IC: Puroruk

 

Under the blanketing darkness of night, Puroruk slipped out of the Koro.  The guards at the gate were easy enough to bypass, especially for one who had lived in the village of Stone for as long as the carver.  In his time here, he had taken upon himself to learn the ins and outs of his home, incase he would ever need the information.  Now seemed like one of those times.  Soon he was out under the setting suns, the vast expance of Po-Wahi surrounding him completely.  Like a sea of sand.

 

But the Po-Matoran didn't have time to admire the beauty of it, and quickly made straight for the quarry... In a round about manner.  Puroruk didn't like to be followed, but enjoyed being sure no one was following him.  He looped back onto his path more than once, covering his tracks.  Eventually, he made it to the quarry.  There was not s guard to be seen at the moment, which was curious.   It didn't matter.  Even if there was, Puroruk was too much a renouned carver for the guard to block his late enterance to the quarry.

 

There, just up ahead one could make out the shapes of a Great Pakari, the awesome Mask of Strength worn by the Toa Mata of Earth; Onua.  Puroruk made his way over, his armored feeet crunching on the hard-packed sand.  Once he got closer, his yellow eyes could make out the gate blocking the enterance... Or rather, the lack of one.  Not that surprised, the carver stepped inside, and prepared himself for this "meeting" of sorts.

 

IC: Aelynn

 

The Toa of Iron giggled again, and slipped under Auron's arm.  She then proceeded to walk the Ta-Toa out of the bar.  It was a lot harder than it sounded, given the amount of drinks she had had.  But she made it the inn, eventually.  After that, it didn't take long for her to set Auron down on his bed, before making her way over to her own room.

Edited by Gravity, Dec 23 2012 - 01:48 AM.

[Half a Cup of EW]

IC (Caerus)

 

His meal finished, Caerus left the restaurant, finding himself walking about Po-Koro in the late afternoon.

 

Two things were pertinent at the moment: escaping the Koro, and making his way to the Quarry. He had come to the Koro to rest and also to draw anyone who might be following him here; if he had gone straight for the Quarry, someone could have tracked him and laid his plans bare. This was not acceptable for a man who dealt in secrets.

 

His plan first entailed a visit to a clothing shop, from which he purchased a long coat, which he rolled up in a bundle and carried under his arm He then visited the taxi driver he had hired earlier in the day, and persuaded the burly Onu-Matoran to give him a ride to the Ga-Koro ferry. The Matoran didn't want to leave with the sun slowly sinking, but Caerus enticed him with the promise of paying double fair.

 

The cart and its two occupants soon exited the village of stone, the guards curious as to why they were leaving so late, but not particularly alarmed. It was just a rich, eccentric Matoran businessman doing whatever he liked. If he didn't make it to the docks before sundown, he would have to spend the night on the shore, and too bad for him.

 

The cart had barely pulled out of sight of the village when Caerus murdered the driver. Pulling the iron dagger from beneath his coat, he slipped the razor blade through the back of the Onu-Matoran's neck, severing jugular and trachea in one motion. The Matoran squirmed and choked for a few moments before keeling over on his seat, dead.

 

Caerus wiped the blade on the spare coat he had brought, then pulled the coat on and took the reins. Despite his hiring a taxi earlier in the day, Caerus was a competent Ussal driver, and could manage well enough with or without a cart. A flick of the leather straps, and he was off, the Ussal trotting smartly down the road.

 

Before long, he came to a crossroads. Instead of turning left towards Ga-Wahi, as he had said he would do, he turned right, taking the road that led back towards Onu-Koro, but not before splitting off into another trail that led to the Po-Wahi Quarry.

 

Halfway along the road, Caerus paused for a half hour to pull his driver's corpse a ways into the dunes before taking back the money he'd paid (and whatever else was in the Onu-Matoran's purse). He didn't bother with burying the dead body; no one would see it for a good twelve hours, and by then the stench of rotting flesh would have attracted the scavengers of the desert, many of which Caerus could name alphabetically.

 

Eventually, the Ba-Matoran's vehicle rolled up to the entrance to the Quarry, carrying only one passenger, who was now clad in a dusty brown trenchcoat. Caerus didn't have to worry about his disguise after all, however: the guards were nowhere to be seen. The Quarry was open for entry by anyone.

 

The poet dismounted his cart once inside the canyon, and began walking towards the statue of Onua's Pakari. The setting sun lit up the cliffs, but cast the Quarry itself in shadow. The air was cool, and the sky a light blue, save for streaks of pink and red that set the west afire.

[Ghosthands]

IC (Lohkar)

 

Lohkar turned to Gunner, his irrepressible demeanour draining away just as quickly as it had appeared.

 

"Don't be, mate," he said.  "We've all lost things today."

 

He placed an unusually compassionate hand on Gunner's shoulder.

 

"You all right, Gunner?" he asked quietly.  "You seem a bit...quieter than usual.  News hit ya hard?"

[Dallas Winston]

IC: Dorian (Po-Wahi)

 

I pushed myself off my perch and moved towards Jin and Brykon, who watched me somewhat warily; the Vortixx obviously still wasn't sure what to expect from me after I did my little slide down the banister of the stairway to heaven, and to be honest, I wasn't sure, either. I'd spent the night examining my new tattoo lazily while pretending to play I Spy with Grokk - it started with the typical scarf joke, you know, "I spy with my little eye the stupidest, most worthless little golden appendage on this entire boat!" followed by a quick "Your eyeballs?" and then the customary "You can't see your eyeballs, Doregano!" and then the whole "You know you're really terrible at being the Nicknamer after you name me after a spice"and then the whole "Yeah, because everyone thinks you're hot except the people who actually know better!" and then--

 

Well...you guys get the picture.

 

Killing a Turaga shouldn't bother me, I know. To be honest, it really doesn't. It's the sentiment behind it; it's one thing to ignore a God, to deliberately spite him, but another thing to kill him entirely. When you lay waste to heaven, God isn't the only thing you kill; similarly, killing a Turaga was much more symbolic than just breaking an old man's neck - heck, I did that once on Naming Day when Great Granddaddy Shaddix gave me toe socks; who gives a kid toe socks and expects to live, I mean, really?

 

Besides, it was his time to go. The whole thing about you being what you eat, well, that's kinda true. Great Granddaddy had the same proportions and hue of a giant prune, and honestly, I thought I did him a favo--

 

Anyway.

 

I gave no physical reaction to my assignment to kill Turaga Vakama, not a twitch, not a tell, but instead I walked up straight to Brykon, face inches away from his. I hadn't said a word for hours, and I think that in Brykon's eyes, something glinted there that told me to go. Leave, and don't come back. Whether this was to protect me from the Four Peers, or to just get rid of me before he killed me, I don't know, but there was a heavy air around the staredown that no one who was still around interrupted, for fear of what may happen. Would the timeline explode? Would I explode? Would Grokk shut up?

 

No one wanted to risk any of these apocalyptic events, so there was silence, until Brykon finally put out a hand, and I took it, shaking it not with bored apathy, or scorn, or even a "teehee you're old d00d" nonchalance. There was respect in my grip, and admiration. 

 

The last father I had, I stabbed him in the throat. 

 

"Take care," I said quietly, and in the depths of those words there was a coded message for Brykon: I'll do this for you, but that's it. I won't be there at the Canyon, and you're not going to find me afterwards. Do us both a favor. Don't bother.

 

"You too, Dorian."

 

Was he proud of me? Disappointed? I wasn't sure. I would never be sure; such was life with Brykon. The succinct replies and tips he always laid out like Easter eggs were mine to decode, and I would spend years decoding them. Maybe that was the point of this last year. To find myself. I could see Brykon staring at the tattoo on the back of my hand from the bottoms of his eyes, those deep blue wells that looked more and more like mine every time I looked at them, and then the handshake broke mutually and I turned my back on my father for the final time.

 

Jin smiled slightly at me, and I replied with a coy smirk - Yes, Virginia, I'm sober again and I promise I won't attack you anymore - as we made our way to Ta-Koro. None of the remaining members of Bad Company could see it, maybe not even Jin if she wasn't paying attention, but I could feel it: the tattoo began to coil up and expand, moving its tendrils from my elbow up around my bicep, swirling around my perfect muscles, and breaking off at my shoulder blade. A circle marked the tattoo's full stop, with several long, thin, unhealthy looking lines poking out around and swirling. 

 

Well, ain't that some irony. A crown of thorns.

 

-Tyler

Edited by Tyler Durden, Dec 23 2012 - 08:09 AM.

[ZHX]

IC: [Treize]

 

"So," said Treize, prodding the Mystix in front of her. "What are your plans now?"

[Varren Rehn]

IC: Halnos:

 

"I'm... Not sure..."

[Dreadheart]

IC:

 

I looked back up, my gaze boring into Lohkar's eyes with an almost frightening intensity. A sad smile flashed across my face, the only sign of whatever lingering shreds of humanity were still remaining in my soul.

 

"No, captain... But, I do know what it's like to lose a home."

 

-Void

[Ilyusha Blokfase]

IC-Marfoir:

 

Open the bolt, catch the projectile that flies up. Check capacity-nothing. They'd nearly wasted all of his ammo. Still, he had extra. Pulling out a clip of ammunition from his pack, Marfoir centred it just above the magazine, and a quick depression of the rounds with his them placed them back into the weapons magazine, stripping them from the clip they were on, which he carefuly replaced where it had been, before taking the unused projectile from before, placing it into a pocket of its own. He'd save it for the Turaga.

 

The other rounds were to take out any guards he might have running around.

 

Marfoir stood back up, his weapon back in its case, the assembly hanging from his shoulder by a strap. A few minutes more and he walked into the marshy area that was Ga-Wahi, to pick up some more supplies and information before he would move on to Le-Koro.

 

OOC: Marfoir to Ga-Wahi.

[Kughii]

IC: Liikyra

 

"Shut up."

 

Her mood hadn't improved much in the past few hours.  Or since the sand-storm.  Or actually at all.  It probably started when Kughii had "saved" her the first time.  Yeah, Liikyra didn't want to think about that.  At all.  Ever.  Burning it from memory was probably the best thing to do.  If the vortixx wanted to live after the Toa could move again.

 

Unfortunately, there wan't much she could do at the moment.  Besides send more death glares that weren't feeling as effective as when she first thrown them at him.  Liikyra gave a defeated sigh, and glanced around at her surroundings.  She was stuck with him, whether she liked it or not.  And he was taking her through the desert, the least she could do is try to be greatfull.  It was harder than it sounded.   Her ribs still hurt, but it was more of a dull ache rather than a sharp spike.  For now, just as long as she didn't move that much.

 

Why had she saved Kughii again?

 

Oh right, she was a Toa.

 

Lovely.

 

IC: Kughii

 

A long silence enveloped the two travelers, punctuated  by the metronome of Kughii's heavy footfalls, the sands rushing away to let him sink calf deep into the desert.  I can't wait to hit the tar-pits.  At least then the safe terrain is dried mud, not this stuff that I can't get a grip on.  With a grunt, he pushed forwards, pulling his way through the dunes.  

 

Evening rippled across the sky, twilight's gleam of brilliant orange and purple careening off the mountains to the South.  With a firm affirmation Kughii dropped the reins, heaved a chuckle and stated, "Sleeping here."  Grabbing his blade Kughii stalked off, leaving Liikyra alone in the tan world.  Looking upwards, she watched with growing concern as the sky darkened.  Kughii hadn't returned.

 

Stars rippled through the sky in belts, pipes, and ash-bears.  The moon glowed brilliant in its waxing crescent.  Sleep began to take the wounded toa.

 

"Yo."

 

Her eyes flipped open.  How long had she been out?  A fire crackled nearby, its heat warming the left side of her face.  Kughii's face swam in the sky above.  "I got some herbs boiled to stave infection.  Found a couple sand-snipes too.  So, I got a meal."

Edited by Riaril, Dec 23 2012 - 05:43 PM.

[ZHX]

IC: [Treize]

 

"Join my crew."

[JL v2]

IC: Flay

 

Night was closing in. The heat of the desert was quickly turning into frosty winds, reshaping the sand all around the desert. Cold air streaked, following nature-restricted paths across the canyon, which Flay and the team trekked across. The sun hadn't fell past the horizon yet, and far off into the distance, the Ta-Toa could see the red light reflected off from the shining sea. As they were trekking westwards, her back - and those of the matoran, who were once again packed up thanks to the Po-Koro Guard.

 

As she walked on the path, Flay closed her eyes. Fear had once again caught up with her overconfident, cocky attitude. How could they, a rag-tag team of matoran under the jurisdiction of the Ta-Koro Guard, face off against groups of Toa focused on blowing stuff up? There was only really one way to do it....

 

In her palm, the fires of imagination raged. Flames spread out from her arm, a stream of heat, just like the original Toa of Fire, Tahu, who had been an idol to the Guard. 

 

Her eyes snapped back open, and her mind snapped back to reality. They were nearing the pier; A boat awaited them there, ready to take them to the closest pier to Ta-Koro.

[Geardirector]

IC: Baranx

 

The salty fragrance in the air and the chill winds were particularly harsh to a Po-Wahi native like Baranx.

 

As he sloshed through puddles of water that had formed from the rain, he took the time to contemplate something that'd been a personal pet peeve of his: the group needed a name.

 

Now, he was not one for being dramatic or shocking, but he still felt the group missed something without a name.

 

He mentally sorted through the members, trying to figure out what they were.

 

They were a group of Matoran, all with the ability to defend themselves, and they had been recruited by the Ta-Koro guard to capture renegade Toa.

 

Not the best basis for a name...

Edited by Geardirector, Dec 24 2012 - 04:48 PM.