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[Kal the Guardian]

It all started with the tribe of Earth. One day they were just gone. Snap. Completely vanished. We sent down scouts to find them, but those scouts never returned. We started to get nervous, but what really sent us over the edge is when our island began to sink, letting the ocean claim more and more land each day. When the ground sunk beneath our very weight, we started going crazy. Nothing we did could prevent the inevitable, only delay.

Boats weren’t an option, considering we only had a few decent sized fishing boats and anything we built was either sucked underground or taken by the sea. The very universe fought against us as we tried to figure out what to do. Unfortunately, our only option became painfully obvious: go down.

Gathering what was left, we simply stood still, letting the earth pull us down into whatever doom awaited us. I was the last one, standing atop the highest part of the island, water surrounding me just a few feet away. It was unnerving to see our home gone. And then I too was pulled under, and the Age of Panic started.

Several beings laughed, someone fell out of his chair, and one said, “Where’d you come up with that non-sense? Age of Panic?”

“Hey,” a Zyglak said, “This Toa comes to me searching for someone to hear his story. And I’m like ‘but I’m a Zyglak’ and he says that this place equalizes us all.” The Zyglak swished whatever was in his mug. It was some kind of weird underground fruit extract, but thousands of years spent underground drinking it had made it actually enjoyable. He took a large swig and continued his story.

So we were all separated at first, scared and running madly about the maze of tunnels we found ourselves in. It took us years to find each other and decades more to realize that we needed to go deeper to be safe, as something was definitely picking us off in the maze. We lost half our numbers before we found the passage to the largest cavern we had ever seen. It completely blew away what our Earth Tribe had ever been able to construct. And it was full of our screams.

Whatever horror terrors inhabited that place, I can’t say. Because when someone with an scope mask modification saw the opening farther down in the center of that cavern, I kept my eyes on my feet, lest I be driven insane or forever have immobilizing fear like the being who had found our escape. Needless to say, I made it, but with only a few companions out of our original hundreds. No one was ever quite the same after that day. But hearing your friends get picked apart by monsters too hideous to look at or even begin to describe would do that to anyone.

And then we descended down the spiral staircase we found. Down and down we went, certain that Death would be there to greet us at the bottom, or something worse than just death. It took days, but we arrived, broken and needing energy, only to find out that things were only slightly better than up above.

We found our missing earth tribe; turned to stone holding open massive obsidian double doors easily twenty Toa high. We paid our respects by not disturbing them and entered in to what they had given their lives to open, expecting everything horrible to assault us. Instead we found a cavern of trees, plants, and mushrooms. It was paradise compared to up above. There was fresh water, even wild Rahi, though the Rahi rivaled the horror terrors up above in ferocity. The ceiling was Violet, the walls and floor Orange; and so we called the giant cavern Violet Orange. It was the only thing our strained minds could think of under all the pressure we were enduring.

Eventually, instead of surviving Violet Orange, we began to subjugate it; taking control and making our lives better than just hanging on the edge. This Age of Rebuilding was a long one, and many different beings came through the Obsidian Doors, but none of them were our old companions. With these new members, of all species, we built a mighty village and began to explore more of Violet Orange. It took us almost a full millennium to map out most of Violet Orange and its many side passages and waterways. In that time our village grew into a city, and a government had to be set up to maintain order for all the shell shocked inhabitants.

And so we went with what was most accepted. The Kingdom of Violet Orange was born, and our first king was crowned. It was he who first thought up the games to further unite us, or perhaps tear us apart and make us stronger individuality. The games varied, and the winner was named Trouble, as an honorary title. The biggest game would be survival, where participants were taken to the untamed other end of Violet Orange where the doors of bones stand, reeking of death. The goal was to return to our city, alive, and be the first one to speak a comprehensible sentence. These individual games sometimes lasted years at a time, and that was enough to keep a little amount of sanity and normalcy in the kingdom.

This was our Age of Trouble, where there was little trouble to be had. Then the king decided to join the games midway to achieve the title of Trouble himself. We aren’t sure what happened exactly, but they went to the doors of bones and did not return again. We waited a decade and then another to be sure he wasn't coming back and then we went and elected another king.

This was our Age of Influx, seeing as the most beings we had ever seen made it past the horror terrors and through the Obsidian Doors. Eventually, beings requested a revival of Trouble, which now stood for the games themselves. The king hesitantly said yes, but the doors that reeked of death were avoided and instead less fatal games were played, such as gladiator battles or lightstone heat tag.

On the day that the Trouble was announced and given his title, they attacked. Whatever they were. They were the ones that sunk our island and killed us in the maze. Somehow, they were back and still hated us. I hid the entire war that ensued, as did half our population. As such, I still do not know what they look like.

After half a century of hiding in far outposts of the kingdom, most of us decided to return to the main city, which we had named Underhorror in keeping with our amazing naming skills. It was almost completely destroyed, but the few survivors told us we had won and killed every last attacker. And yet another king was missing, assumed dead.

Needing someone to keep us together, our third king was hesitantly named and reconstruction began. Millennia passed as we re-grew and expanded Underhorror; really becoming the Kingdom of Violet Orange that we called ourselves. But, like most things, Trouble was brought up once again, and the third installation of the games was hosted. Surprisingly, nothing bad happened. The Trouble was named and the king lived.

Beings were appeased and what peace our broken minds had left prospered. It was our Age of Peace. And then 900 years ago the single horror terror appeared and killed half of our kingdom, not touching the buildings and structures. The king survived, but he renounced his title and went to live on the outskirts, like I once had. Everyone gave up hope and basically hid. The more insane began construction on a tower, certain that if they worshipped the horror terror, that is would spare them. I gathered my courage for once in my life and fought the monster, not defeating him, but gaining control of his mind and riding him up into the Cavern of the Unseen, where several other of his buddies tore him apart as soon as I relinquished control.

It took me half a century to return. And by then my mind was well beyond hope, and yet no one knew how my mind hadn’t fragmented completely. I honestly don’t know myself. The fourth king, our current one, Sevorik, was ruling and what I currently call the Age of Now had arrived.

Unlike our past kings, I don’t trust Sevorik. By his own volition, he has announced the fourth installment of Trouble; saying that there have been so many improvements as to say it has evolved from what it once was. He himself is going to enter it, and our third king, Syrifar, has come back to enter as well. This time there are no mental or physical requirements, and now every lunatic wants to be named Trouble. But, well, here’s the thing. I am still in tune with the horror terror that was eaten. His mind remains even if his body was eaten, and he has been reforming.

He is coming for us to acquire his revenge, and no one will listen to me. But that’s what I get for trying to kill anyone who touches me. And the original evil, they are trying to find a way past the horror terrors, fighting them if need be. They must have lost the path the others before them took to come to kill us. They too seek our destruction. A storm is coming, and I’m not even talking about possible alliances the kingdom very well might have with the horror terrors, who continue to keep the original evil out while letting most who come to them to pass if they keep their heads down.

My earth brothers still keep the Obsidian Doors open, but that is not my concern. We obviously didn’t get all the original maps right, and either my sane or insane mind is saying there might be more doors to find. Just a year ago I went to the doors of bones, where no one has gone to in millennia. I do not know what this means, but one door stands ajar, slightly open; wide enough for a Vortixx or thin Toa to enter or exit through.

Heh heh, I do not know what was past the door or whatever it was that probed my mind, but the horror terror I remain connected with was the only thing that kept me alive. And so, on the verge of celebration and games, an underground kingdom that stands amidst the darkness is going to be assaulted from all sides, including that which concerns me most. The inside.

All our minds are damaged, having to walk through the Cavern of the Unseen, full of its horror terrors. Even without looking, it still messes with one’s brain on a subconscious level none of us understand. We are all crazy, and yet no one above knows of all the things we have accomplished and killed. They know nothing of the terrible monsters that lay beneath their feet, were they to dig deep enough. Perhaps they are the demented ones, happily living in their shared delusion.

Besides, are we really crazy if all of us suffer from insanity?

Violet Orange Trouble Evolved 4: Kings and Lunatics

“And that’s when I threw him out,” the Zyglak said, “I mean I know none of us are right in the head, but so many threats on the verge of another glorious installment of Trouble, that’s just plain dumb.”

Everyone laughed, agreeing with him. “I mean, if we were all under threat from them guys up above, Terr would have let us know, wouldn’t you have?” The Zyglak was referring to the only small horror terror. He just showed up one day, broken and bleeding acid. He never attacked and simply hung out in pubs, listening to conversations. No one was able to look at him, so they knew he was there when they couldn’t force themselves to look at a certain spot in the room. He couldn’t communicate lest he drive everyone completely mad, but he managed by somehow giving everyone shivers down their spines. Once for yes; twice for no. They called him Terr just because no one in Violet Orange could really name things that well.

A shiver ran through the group. The Zyglak smiled, “See what I mea-“ He stopped short as a second shiver ran down his spine. His mind raced to interpret this. “Wha?... Are we in serious trouble?” A single shiver.

Everyone in the pub had stopped all other conversations, all staring at the Zyglak. The one who fell off his chair slowly got to his feet and said, “Well, time to spread this as a rumor, seeing as no one will believe us otherwise. Thanks, Terr.”

Silence.

The Zyglak finished his drink to quench his suddenly dry throat and he exited the pub, looking up at the dark and ominous ceiling of violet. He lowered his eyes, staring at the slightly luminescent orange rock beneath his feet. Spotting something white on the ground, he stooped and picked up a flyer for the upcoming games. It read:

4th Installation Of

Trouble!

Now Evolved.

Held from this coming Saturday, Day 207, 5022 UY to Wednesday, Day 1, 5301 UY!

That leaves plenty of time to sign up now!

No requirements have to be met, anyone can join us in all the fun!

The games included in the first hundred years are listed on the back, be sure to sign up for the events you’re strong in!

King Sevorik and Former King Syrifar will be participating as well, and expect to see you there!

This first year you will see how we have-

The Zyglak snorted and stopped reading, quickly flipping the pamphlet over. His eyes scanned the list and he noticed several games he was interested in. There was lightstone heat tag, death ball, gladiator trials…

Blinking, the Zyglak re-read the last one. Survival (With a surprise twist). Survival had basically been outlawed since the Age of Influx almost 1,200 years ago, or so he had been told by that Psionic Toa. Whatever brought it back, it wasn’t good. The Zyglak became even more uneasy. He had been hated up above, but was just like any other being down here, even though everyone had to be crazy for something like that to happen. He didn’t want anything to happen to this kingdom. Maybe he could consult the Priests of Horror; they might know something more about what was going on. But then again, they were insane. And with how everyone else here was, that was saying something.

The Zyglak grunted and he was brought back to the present. The hilt of a knife was sticking out of the side of his stomach, being held by a Matoran with bandages around his whole head. The Zyglak gently pushed the Matoran away, thereby removing the knife. “I’m not a terror, little one,” he said, patting the Matoran on the head and turning him about, “The Obsidian Doors are that way. Go get ‘em.”

The Matoran nodded his thanks and shuffled off. The Zyglak glanced down at his wound and grunted again before beginning to walk again. Something else he had to take care of.

Game Overview and Summary

Welcome to the world of Violet Orange, a cavern deep underground that holds the largest amount of slightly crazed beings this side of Karzanhi. As in keeping with what has become tradition, the forth installment of the Trouble games have been announced, which is weird, considering that after the first king, the people always have to beg the following kings to do so, and this king did it of his own volition. These games span hundreds of years with many beings dying along the way. The goal is to win enough of the games to be given the title of Trouble when the games end, because, if you win, you could very likely be a very big trouble to everyone else.

You, as a player, will be assuming control of one of the many various species that has made it out of the Maze of Caves, through the Cavern of the Unseen, down the Spiral Staircase of Soreness, and through the Obsidian Gates into the Cavern of Violet Orange. This journey alone has consumed more than it has let past, and the horrible monsters there have mentally damaged everyone. A few beings have opted to have a Toa of Psionics wipe their entire set of memories so that they can start anew, but they are in the minority.

What you will be able to do in this RPG would be joining the many games that will be played, rebelling against someone possibly, fighting and dying against the horror terrors, exploring, and so much more! Basically, do what you want and just have some fun.

Supposedly the doors of bones have been opened and there might be even more of these mysterious doors. And now there have been rumors of the original monsters attacking again, those ones who always suck beings down into their maze, where they kill them at their leisure. The mad Priests of Horror have become strangely silent lately, and the King has brought back all guards from fighting the Rahi out in the jungle of Violet Orange’s not fully explored regions, leaving explorers to fend for themselves against the beasts only slightly less dangerous than the original monsters.

Things are shifting and few see what is truly happening.

The end of the world is not here, no, but you can see it from where we stand.

Locations

Violet Orange-

This is a cavern so large that the walls cannot be seen most of the time, and even though it has been explored almost fully, it still retains many secrets. The ceiling is violet in color, and almost seems to swirl ominously at times, although a second glance reveals all remains still. The walls and floor are orange in color and are luminescent, providing enough light to live by, but not enough to rival a lightstone’s glow. Both ceiling and floor are just simply rock, easily mined and used elsewhere. This is how most of Underhorror has been built, considering the jungle trees take millennium to grow.

It originally was mostly jungle, if short, thick canopied trees could be considered a jungle, but now roughly one fifth of it has been converted to city or outposts. Many waterfalls fall from the ceiling or walls and form into several cold rivers that lead to small side tunnels, where the water gets so deep that not even Ga-Toa can swim there. And then the waterfalls; the water is probably being pressed on by some super deep ocean, so it’s like a full pressure hose straight down into lakes, sending up large spray all the time. No one remembers which way is proper north, so the Obsidian Doors are said to be East, since most of Underhorror is close enough for the wall of the cavern to be seen, with the open Obsidian Doors guarded by the petrified Earth-Tribe members easily visible by all.

Underhorror-

This town has grown explosively in the 4, 972 years from when the first Toa and Matoran founded it as a clearing in the trees. As to be expected, it is a hodgepodge of styles, and the layout is completely unplanned and harrowingly difficult to remember fully. Eventually, when it turned into the Kingdom’s capitol (despite the Kingdom never having another city in all of its 3,894 years since it was established), a castle was built in the north. This castle has seen new additions and renovations with each king, and is as confusing to navigate as it the city. It would take someone crazy to remember all the passageways and game rooms.

Located in the southeast is the Tower of Terror, where all the Priests of Horror reside, praying to the horror terrors, either to spare them or kill their friends. They believe the closer they are to the Cavern of the Unseen above, the easier it will be for the horror terrors to hear and heed their prayers.

There are many other buildings as well, but none as famous as Maze Craze, the pub which first invented the only underground ale. Frusian Cider. Although no one calls the trees where the fruit comes from Frusians, the name has apparently stuck. There’s also the fact that everyone is so crazy that no one has figured out if the drink is actually alcoholic or not yet.

As of right now, there are no other buildings or structures to take note of in Underhorror.

Outskirts-

There are a lot of outposts to help explorers and to keep track of participants in the first two Trouble games of survival, although half of them are just left for ruin, possibly after a Rahi attack or simply because an inhabitant snapped and killed everyone. Beings at these outposts are either kicked out of society, hiding from society, exploring, farming, hunting, or have had their minds reset. But you will never find any of these types of beings living together; only at separate outposts from one another.

The Outskirts are mostly in the center of Violet Orange, but can crop up anywhere. Ranging from a small hut to a small village to a fort, they don’t have a set form. The worst ones are the ones with Rahi living inside. The smart Rahi.

The Doors-

There are two known set of doors that cannot be opened by any means that has been tried. No one knows how the Onu-Tribe opened the Obsidian Doors, but they obviously gave their lives to do so. The Obsidian Doors remain open, held by the now completely stoic earth tribe, but the Bone Doors have remained closed since they were first discovered. The Obsidian Doors seem just to be giant, but the doors of bones, or the Bone Doors (which no one calls them), absolutely reek of death and hideous things. No one knows what is behind the Bone Doors, but rumors say that they have cracked open.

No one knows if there are any more doors to be found, and unless things change drastically, no one will find out for awhile.

Maze of Caves-

A series of caves and passageways meant to never let anyone return to the surface. This is where the original evil resides (which should have gotten some sort of obvious name by now, after 5,000 years) and feasts on all prey that doesn’t make it out. To make it out, one must head down instead of up, which is definitely harder than it sounds. Even then, the monsters sometime guard the exit, ensuring death.

Cavern of the Unseen-

This large cavern is, surprisingly, smaller than Violet Orange. It is filled to the brim with horror terrors, horrible monsters that will drive anyone mad who even looks at them or hears them speak. Few survive the long walk in a straight line to the entrance of the staircase in the middle of the cavern. Once past, only three beings have ever returned. Two died instantly. Only the sheer size of the horror terrors prevents them from descending the staircase, but occasionally, one is destroyed and has to reform, starting with a smaller body as it re-grows. Apparently, they can’t tunnel, either up, down, or sideways.

If you want to live, do not go back here.

Spiral Staircase of Soreness-

The staircase has no railings and spirals down for a few days of walking. The central opening is 17 Toa wide, with the stairs being 3 Toa wide. And yes, they had to lay down Toa to measure it and now use Toa as the form of measurement instead of Bio. There are no side passages and except for being obscenely long, this spiral staircase seems normal enough.

Factions

Crazy-

You are crazy. Basically, you inhabit Underhorror and the surrounding Outskirts. You either want to win the title of Trouble, or are rooting for someone to do so. Who knows, maybe it’s a good time to start a fight with anyone. Do anything you want.

Purged-

Your memories have been cleansed and you are now normal once again, even if you can’t remember who you are. Normally you live alone or with other Purged at an Outpost. You try to avoid everyone as much as possible. Or you take advantage of how everyone is insane and live in the city.

King’s Guard-

You guard the king, the city, the kingdom. And you get signed up to fight Rahi if you do something too crazy. You are free to join in the games, and can roam the castle with more accessibility than the average public.

Priests of Horror-

You live in the Tower of Terror, praying to the horror gods that they might spare you, or nab you an extra Frusian Cider at Maze Craze. Normally you only talk with each other, but sometimes you like to preach to the wandering masses. As a sign of devotion to the terror gods, you feel compelled to join in Trouble, or maybe just pray some more.

Make Your Own-

Four different players all with at least one character each working together becomes a Faction. Five different players with at least two players having two characters each working together becomes a Guild, and beings notice you. Probably in a bad way. Matoran also tend to flock to you at this point.

Rules

BZP Rules apply, all of them.

No god-modding (e.g. controlling someone else's character, having your character do something impossible). And if someone god-modes against you, don't do it back, tell the Staff.

This is a Text-Based RPG, so to join in you post what is basically a miniature story for what is currently happening to your character.

Please, try to use good grammar. It helps everyone out.

Use IC for In-Character and OOC for Out-Of-Character.
For example:
IC: The Toa glanced at his friend as he scanned the perimeter, looking for enemies.

OOC: Hey Lewa34Dude, want to join us?

Posts must be at least three complete sentences.

Don't extensively control other people's characters without their permission.

Don't injure another character without permission.

Comedy is accepted, but keep it realistic. No random pie flinging contests.

Don't glory hog or continuously degrade someone else's character.

All characters are incapable of performing Nova Blasts.

All major discoveries or story twists must go through me first.

And most important of all, HAVE FUN! And pick fights with random people, everyone loves a good fight.

Game Master

I am the Game Master of this RPG. And as such, I control the story and NPCs. I make sure fights stay fair. I approve profiles. I assign Co-GMs and the like. And I deal out punishment and hand out rewards.

Punishments will be given after the rules are broken, like any good GM would do.

-First, I will tell you in a PM or in the discussion topic what you did wrong and ask you to stop.

-Secondly, if you continue to/or break a different rule, I will injure your character.

-Third strike, and you have one of your characters killed.

-Final Punishment is being banned from the RPG for as long as needed to fix behavior issues of any kind. A week at the least.

Now for the good part: Rewards.

Rewards will be handed out to players that are especially helpful in one way or another. These rewards include but are not limited to: More characters; a new power; a new mask; an upgraded weapon; misc.; etc.

Hopefully there will be no punishments, but plenty of rewards. (Which no one ever gets, ever, but we still tend to put it in our RPGs anyway)

Thanks

To everyone who I have ever RPed with, I thank you. I thank Parugi, Toa of Dancing, Tafu, TPtI, and Levacius in particular for all being awesome. Short and simple: I thank you all.

Edited by Kal the Guardian, Oct 01 2012 - 11:28 AM.

[The Giant Space Butterfly]

IC: The Almighty Lord Kassermoon Strongsteel von Awesome the Great IV [Underhorror]

Lord Kassermoon waited calmly waited for his business partner to arrive. She was several hours late, which was most unlike her. Ah well, there was not much else to do in this place, so he might as well just wait.

OOC: Open for interaction.

Edited by Bordakh Unit 227, Sep 30 2012 - 06:34 PM.

[Kal the Guardian]

GM / Opening IC:

Sevorik the Vortixx sat on his throne of stone. It was crafted out of what most everything was made out of, the orange rock that Violet Orange was known for. Violet slits of stone gilding gave the throne a sense of majesty, as if it were more than just a chair. If one stared too long, the violet seemed to start moving, but after a blink, all would remain still; the violet stone dark among the glowing orange. The throne was several sizes too big for Sevorik, but he did not notice, nor would he care if he did. This was because he had more on his mind today than fussing around with some insignificant chair.

He had proclaimed the fourth instillation of Trouble to be in effect. The games were coming just around the corner. Each game yielded the potential for death, and he had signed up for each one; yet that was not what was worrying him. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he had added survival as a game again. That never should have happened. And yet it had, and now he had to live with the consequences.

Whatever should happen, and as long as his subjects remained true to him in their ideals, he vowed to protect them from all harm. Playing survival was just asking for disaster to strike… again. Sevorik’s brow furrowed as he looked down the long throne room, columns of statues leading to two large doors that didn’t even come close to the Obsidian Doors. Something was there at the back of his mind, nudging him, warning him of something, or maybe just messing with him.

As he thought about it more, he froze. He sat motionless, his mind raging with questions. He didn’t even blink as the doors on the other side of the room opened and a brightly dressed Toa slipped through. She wore several brightly colored sashes and wore a Top Hat of dark green that was tilted precariously upon her head. Her body was a mash up of colors; green, orange, and purple. In her hands she held a large try with a lid on top.

She carelessly carried the tray with one hand, almost spilling its contents several times as she walked up to Sevorik. When she finally reached him, she curtsied, which looked totally ridiculous, and set the tray on a small table beside the throne. Sevorik remained motionless, which was a problem of his that had developed recently within the last few millennia. The Toa lifted up the lid to reveal a teapot and a cup and saucer along with a few small sandwiches. She finally looked to Sevorik and raised one eyebrow.

She giggled and slugged him in the jaw. Sevorik suddenly breathed deep and looked around wildly as the Toa massaged her wrist. Sevorik rubbed his jaw and said, “Villy,” in greeting.

Villy inclined her head and tipped her Top Hat, “My King. How would we like our tea today?” She grabbed the teapot and inspected its contents, swirling the liquid inside as if testing it.

“Same as normal, Tea Cup lady,” Sevorik said, massaging his temples, “Two dips of a Stone Rat’s tail and a cup of sugar.”

Villy went to work, pulling something long and nasty looking from inside one of her sashes. She dipped it inside the teapot twice and put it away. She grabbed her Top Hat and flipped it upside down. Reaching inside, she gingerly picked out a cup full of sugar, which she poured into the teapot. Throwing the Top Hat back onto her head, she stirred the contents of the teapot and sticking a finger in to taste it, poured it into the waiting cup. She picked up cup and saucer and handed it to Sevorik, who gingerly accepted it and took a sip.

He sighed and his body relaxed. There was nothing like morning tea to calm you down, except maybe for afternoon tea.

Villy bowed and gave a mock salute, “See you at lunch.” As Sevorik grabbed a sandwich, Villy made her way out of the throne room.

Villy the Toa beamed, Sevorik had seemed happier this morning. It was probably her quick and prompt service. Navigating three hallways and two doors, Villy found the GTG pad and stepped onto it. This one was rather small and had actually been installed for her personally. That was something to be proud of, if she cared. Rather, she focused on how long it was taking. She had pushed the right button, she was sure of it. Orange for incoming, Violet being reserved for official business and emergencies.

Villy would have pressed the Violet button, but apparently her services weren’t official business or emergencies, seeing as she couldn’t even find the Violet button on the stand before her. It supposedly only appeared to those who had reason and just cause to push it. Villy began to smile again as she felt her stomach start to shift. A second later, she was teleported to GTG headquarters. She stepped off the large all purpose receiving pad and joined a line that had formed long again, was always moving, but never disappeared.

Once again, Villy admired her surroundings. This building was all open, several stories high with the girding showing, and larger than the throne room. It was made of protodermis and dusty beyond belief. Large machines sat hulking in corners of the room, their lights barely making it past the layers of dust. Cables ran along the ground and hung suspended from the rafters and open girding. Villy’s eyes followed along the length of one of the cables. It ran from the floor to the ceiling and back again before it joined with several others and ultimately hooked into a large shell that encompassed a Rahkshi that seemed old beyond belief. But that was just his armor, so Villy couldn’t be certain of his age.

The shell made him look like some deformed turtle, with a shell much too large for his body. This shell hummed with energy, and it was the only thing not dusty in the room. Villy suddenly realized she had reached the Rahkshi. “Villy’s Tea Cup Terrace,” she said. She had gotten her own pad installed at her place when the castle had had its pad installed for her. It had cost her a lot, but it had been worth it.

The Rahkshi slowly closed his eyes and Villy was gone from the pad that she was standing on.

Garret the Swervarian Rahkshi sat cross legged, fulfilling the job he had created for himself, teleporting everyone to the GTG pads he had wired across Underhorror. He had created Garret’s Teleportation Grid for the Royal Guards after the attack by the original monsters, and eventually he provided travel across the large city for almost everyone who didn’t want to figure out the pattern of the city or walk for days to go from one side of Underhorror to the other.

The pads were set up at places wherever they could be paid for or where most beings traveled to on a daily basis, like Maze Craze, the castle, or the Tower of Terror. The pads were all wired with cables to the shell on his back, which was no easy feat to accomplish. The shell allowed him to teleport beings who touched the pads instead of having to physically touch them himself, the only downside was having to have a pad to teleport beings to.

He went through many thousands of beings on a daily basis, at least those who had his decade pass. If they didn’t, the orange button that let him know they were ready to teleport wouldn’t even show up on the stand that stood by each GTG pad. A few clever crazies had somehow gotten past the system, but they had mostly been taken care of.

Even with all the work he did, Garret didn’t care. He was filthy rich, even if he did nothing with the money. One day he would retire and build his own castle. But until then, he kept up at his job. Looking back down at the protodermis map that faintly glowed before him, Garret looked over all the pads he had set up. The lit dots on the map signified which ones were under repair, were being built, needed service, or had broken beyond repair. It was also the most up to date map ever made for Underhorror, not that one could make any sense of it anyway, with how many GTG indicator dots were placed on it.

Garret felt a large twitch and his left arm spazzed out, signifying someone pressing a violet button. Mentally following the cable the twitch originated from, Garret traced it on his map. A single dot was held in the air beside the map by a small cable. It was from an outpost, and the only pad he had installed out there was for…

Garret quickly teleported whoever was standing on that pad and looked over to the large receiving pad in his warehouse. The being in question was a Toa, small and stooped. He looked sad and dejected, as if he had nothing to live for. But then, the Toa stood straight, and a glint grew in his eyes. He seemed to stretch taller than he was, dwarfing everyone else in the room, who all backed away. Suddenly he exuded confidence and sanity. His eyes looked like they had seen hundreds of battles and his firm jaw showed that he had set his course and would not be deviating.

Striding through the waiting line as others let him past, the Toa walked up to Garret and looked him in the eye with such intensity, that Garret had to look away. Garret bowed as best he could in his shell, which was just inclining his head, “Lord Syrifar.”

Syrifar the Toa, Trouble and Former King, nodded to Garret and said, “It’s good to be back, old friend. If you would be so kind as to teleport me to Maze Craze. After nine hundred years, I could use a good Frusian Cider.”

Garret nodded and Syrifar felt his stomach flip flop as he suddenly was standing in a wooden room. Actually, if he remembered correctly, it was just wood paneling over stone, since, even with the forest and Toa of the Green, wood was still a scarce thing to build structures out of. Syrifar walked forward and pushed open a uniquely wooden door. The sounds of Maze Craze filled the air and Syrifar took it all in. He was glad to be back.

His lightstone chirped at his side and he looked down in confusion. Someone else said something about a crazy weatherman and everyone laughed. Then someone began to speak through all the lighstones in the room. Syrifar was perplexed, yes, he knew that lightstones down here were different and could act as radios with only one station if they were tuned properly, but someone would need a huge lightstone to broadcast a signal everywhere, as it seemed this weatherman was doing.

The Weatherman’s voice filled the room, “How we doing today, citizens? Who’s ready for this morning’s weather?”

Draxion the Swervarian Rahkshi, known as the Weatherman to everyone, sat before a large array of lightstones all aligned to poor light into each other and up and out of the room. They were specially tuned to allow Draxion to reach most of Underhorror, or, at least, to the lightstones tuned for radio usage.

“It looks light clear skies today, with a small flash flood at noon. Don’t worry though, it’s only going to happen at the Colored Glass Shack. How Hreik manages to make that place reek so bad is beyond me! Twenty minutes of a torrential downpour and then our local Blow-dryers will come in to get rid of all remaining moisture, since we all know how much mold is not appreciated here. I mean, wow, that last infestation was horrible.

“Anyway, the rest of the day will be clear, and then I’ll release the Fog of Night for another peaceful sleep. This is the Weatherman, signing off!” Draxion sat back in his chair, proud of himself. He reached out and twisted a single lightstone out of alignment. The rest dimmed dramatically, effectively turning them off.

Draxion chuckled to himself, maybe he should send some unannounced rain to the Tower of Terror and that pesky Slater. Wow, that guy irked Draxion.

Slater the Toa sat at the top of the Tower of Terror, praying to the gods he knew would one day set him free. He prayed for his sanity and survival. He also prayed for some Frusian Cider, since he wasn’t allowed back at Maze Craze. His devious eyes scanned the city below him as he glared out his tinted window. Hreik had done fine work on it, and it was tinted a lovely blood red.

Thinking of Hreik reminded Slater of someone who had annoyed him yesterday. Snapping his fingers, which produced a much louder sound than it was supposed to, Slater waited. Soon after, another priest could be heard running up stone steps and knocking on the protodermis door. Slater told him to enter and immediately asked, “You know the Hot Rat stand on 479^th Street?” The priest nodded and Slater continued, “He gave me too much berry jam yesterday on my hot rat. Have Shadouk send someone to kill him.” The priest nodded and hastily left the room. The priest tripped on the stairs in his speed, and he began to tumble down a long spiral staircase.

As the priest fell and bumped along, Slater thought of Shadouk; that Rahkshi was trouble, and might need to be taken care of soon.

Shadouk the Swervarian Rahkshi, known to most as the leader of the Bounty Hunters of Underhorror, or BHU for short, was busy fighting his sworn enemy. She was a shapeshifting Rahi by the name of Krag, and at the moment was giving Shadouk a run for his money.

Lady Krag the Rahi was a shapeshifter that copied the powers of those she turned into. She was the perfect predator, and no one could touch her. That was why she started her own body guard business, and it was going well, or it would be if Shadouk would stop trying to kill her customers. As she fought him, her mind couldn’t help but drift to her past, and to Janxz, a Swervarian Rahkshi that had fought alongside her many times before he ran off to the forest to fight and capture the Rahi there. Maybe he had given up on Rahi and finally went to Sirel, the Purged who led, to be cleansed of all the scarring memories.

Sirel the Toa led an Outpost of purged along with Desoria, the Turage in robotic armor that helped her. She was a guide to those who were lost, and a keeper of the peace among those who had forgotten all.

The location has been described, odds and ends explained. Most of the major characters have been introduced. The stage has been set, and forceful and violent change is on the way. Let the story begin.

[Magnus Greel]

IC: Tower of Terror - Underhorror

Murmuring emanated from the surrounding rooms, reaching the ears of Hexxon, who had seated himself comfortably on a cushion, pale yellow eyes closed. He paid the silent prayers of his fellows and the passing sounds of the tumbling priest no heed, focused entirely on his own.

"May you all be kind to us another day, Great Gods of Terror," Hexxon whispered, the words hardly spoken with honor, but certainly with hope. "Let us all live and see the glow of Violet Orange's vast skies again tomarrow. Have mercy on us all. But mostly on me."

IC: Underhorror

Reptak sat hunched against an alleyway's wall, crazed eyes scanning a flyer clutched tightly in his clawed hands. He read the paper as best he could, for its white color had been tarnished by flith that obscured some of the wording. By the time he finished and his demented yet brilliant mind had processed the information, there was only one thought bouncing around in his head.

So, the games have begun again. I'd have to be crazy not to join in this time and earn that title and glory for myself, and... He stopped for a moment, as if realizing something important. Oh, yeah! I'm crazy as it is!

The Skakdi let out a burst of dark cackling, crumpling up the announcement in both hands before tossing it away. His laugh was loud and short, ending quickly as his entire body collapsed into a pile of greenish, crystalline dust that surged into cracks present in the stone ground, before vanishing completely from the area.

OOC: Open for interaction.

[The Lorax]

IC (Karorahk, Outskirts): Karorahk slowly moved through the untamed wilds of Violet Orange, its heavy footfalls leaving deep impressions in the soft soil. It had been a long time since it had met any intelligent beings out here in the wilderness, save for rahi.

OOC: Open for interaction.

[ZHX]

IC: Zaphos - Underhorror

Zaphos sat on a chair.

OOC: Open for interaction.

[Jedi Knight Krazy]

IC: Paktii - Underhorror

The Matoran walked into the room. "Well, it looks like you've made yourself at home." he said.

Paktii smiled. "Yes, I think I'll definitely take it!" He had been borrowing this space from the Matoran, who somehow owned a lot of buildings around Underhorror, and now Paktii planned to buy it with whatever he could find of value in his pack from the scarring trip to Violet Orange. It was, he figured, time to move on from those horrors and start a new life - and what better way to start a new life than buying a house? Buying a laboratory.

The Matoran nodded. "Great. All you have to do is sign this and it's yours." Ugh. Paper.

Paktii obliged, taking the scroll from the Matoran and carefully printing his name, letter by letter. When he was finished, he scribbled over his name, adding flourish. Finally, he scribbled so hard that he ripped a hole through the scroll where his name was supposed to be. That was his signature. Paktii handed the deed back to the Matoran.

The Matoran looked at it doubtfully, but eventually nodded. "And the payment?"

Paktii handed over a small bag full of everything that he wanted to trade - a pickaxe, a few broken masks, an arm formerly belonging to a Fe-Matoran (he was glad to be rid of that, to be honest), and a rock. (it was, after all, a pretty good-looking rock)
The only things he had left from his previous life were his slug launcher, his hammer, and the inert smooth object that had once been his Toa Stone. Not his Toa Stone, to be precise - his brother's. His dead brother's. Well, he had meant to be alive, of course. A dead Toa wasn't very useful - and could a dead Matoran even become a dead Toa? He would have to experiment on that. Never mind, he didn't like experimenting on dead beings. It was his brother's Toa Stone, and he had stolen it. Sort of. He caught himself before his mind started to ramble again. The point was, he needed to keep it - he didn't want to forget the cost of his new life by using it to pay for his new life.

Paktii's Mask of Intuition worked on overdrive trying to make sense of that train of thought - but it eventually succeeded. Because of the mask, everything made sense to Paktii - even things that weren't supposed to make sense.

"Hey," he said to the Matoran suddenly, "would you mind helping me with an experiment?"

"Ok," the landowner said nervously, looking through the contents of the bag and wishing he had remembered to negotiate the price before the deal was done.

"I've always wondered, how do you study a horror terror, if you can't look at a horror terror?" Paktii continued.

"Uh... you don't... because you'll go more crazy than you already are," said the Matoran.

"No!" said Paktii. "Never let fear limit science!" He calmed down. "Anyways, I've outfitted my robot with a makeshift quantum lock. Whenever it's being observed, it freezes in place and can't move."

"How is that like a horror terror? Why not just make it invisible?" asked the Matoran.

"Because you can't look at the robot - at least not when it's moving. And by that, you can study what it does when you're not looking. You can't do that with invisibility."

It didn't make any sense to the Matoran. It wouldn't have made any sense to Paktii if it weren't for the mask.

"Here's the robot," said Paktii, setting it on the ground. "Now look away."

The Matoran turned his head, and so did Paktii.

"Now look at it," said Paktii.

"I don't see it," complained the Matoran.

Paktii turned around. The robot was perched comfortably on top of the Matoran's head. "Look up," he suggested.

The Matoran looked up. The robot fell off of his head with a chitter of protest. "I still don't see it."

"Turn around, look down," Paktii instructed patiently.

As the Matoran did so, his legs blocked the robot from his view. Paktii swore and ran to get a better look, but the robot was gone.

"Blast it, where did it go?"

The Matoran shrugged.

"Oh well, it'll turn up. If you happen to see it again, shout for me and keep looking at it. And whatever you do, don't blink. Don't even blink." Paktii chuckled, not because he understood the reference, but because his mask said it was funny.

...

Paktii walked outside into the streets of Underhorror, trying to think of how he could locate his missing robot that you couldn't look at... and wondering what that had to do with horters anyways.

OOC: Open for interaction. Horters = horror terrors to Paktii.

Edited by Jedi Knight Krazy, Oct 01 2012 - 09:51 AM.

[Zakar0%]

IC: 'Ta' (Underhorror)
The simple-minded Vortixx was amused. Some strange robotic thing had jumped from a window, and landed right in front of him. Though, in all the time he had been watching, it hadn't moved. Not an inch. He sneezed, reflexively closing his eyes as he did.
'Ta' started, then began to laugh. The funny machine-thing had disappeared! Still chuckling to himself, he headed off to find some food, flame-filled club held protectively on his shoulder. Even as he passed Paktii in the street, the robot clung to the tip of his club.
Zakaro

[Constructman: Black Knight]

IC: Elkaren (Castle)
Just a regular day in the life for the toa of light. Standing at a gate all day, hopefully getting bored out of your mind; if you weren't so lucky, then you would get a bit of excitement in your day but at the cost of your health. Still, he had something tolook forward to in life: Going to Maze Craze after work to hang out with his buddies. He contemplated the repetitiveness of his life as he patrolled the gate.

[Jedi Knight Krazy]

IC: Paktii - Underhorror

Paktii looked up as a shadow passed over him - it was a Vortixx. Blasted things were so tall. He had thought the same thing about Toa when he was a Matoran. Now he was a Toa. What would a Matoran think about a Vortixx?

Paktii hit his mask to stop that train of thought in its tracks. Heh. Train of thought. Tracks. It's funny because trains go on -- he hit his mask again.

Paktii looked again at the Vortixx and noticed something clinging onto its club - it was his robot! He should give it a name. Actually, he had given it a name at some point, but forgot it when he went through the Cavern of the Unseen and lost most of his sanity. Understandable.

"WILSON!!!" he shouted after the robot, running after it, the club it was clinging onto, and the Vortixx clinging onto the club (who was called, unbeknownst to Paktii, 'Ta'.)

Come to think of it, he was pretty sure that Wilson wasn't the robot's name.

Paktii lost sight of the robot when he tripped over a random Frostelus sitting in a chair in the middle of the street. (Whose name, unbeknownst to Paktii, was Zaphos)

OOC: Still open for interaction... I guess this is going to become Wilson the Weeping Robot?

Also, is anybody out in the Outposts? I'm going to be starting a new character out there pretty soon.

Edited by Jedi Knight Krazy, Oct 01 2012 - 04:42 PM.

[ZHX]

IC: Zaphos

"Hello there random tripping being," said Zaphos, looking down at the other being. "Please state why you tripped over me before I eat you."

He was of course, serious, because he was rather hungry, and he wondered if Paktii would be tasty to eat. Eating the other being however, would require the other being to have wronged him in some way, and eating someone because of an accident wasn't very nice and stuff and all that jazz.

Edited by It's a Gundam!, Oct 01 2012 - 06:22 PM.

[Constructman: Black Knight]

IC: Elkaren (Underhorror)
The toa of light continued to patrol the castle. Nothing had happened, and he was there to make sure nothing did.

OOC: Open for interaction

[Zakar0%]

IC: 'Ta' (Underhorror)
'Ta' heard someone call out to one another.
"WILSON!!!"
He attempted to ponder that before deciding that thinking hurt to much and that it was funny. So he laughed. As he did so, the club came forward and he stopped, enthralled by the flames dwelling within.
"So... Flamey..."
Unbeknownst to the Vortixx, the robot was hiding on the other side of the club, just out of sight.
Zakaro

[Dreadheart]

IC:

He woke up to smell of sour Frusian Cider, and the sounds of talking.

He wished that those sensations were new to him, but to say so would be a lie. He woke up to those things everyday.

The streets of the city of Underhorror were not known for their cleanliness, mainly due to the fact that no one could be bothered to clean up after themselves. Maybe they were too crazy to bother, maybe they just didn’t care. Maybe they were afraid the horror terrors would find them if they cared about hygiene. Whatever the reason, Grayvern woke up each day with his armour caked in filth.

The Toa in black hauled himself into a sitting position, leaning against a building for support. His whole body ached from sleeping on hard stone, and his nostrils burned from the acrid smell of bad Cider in the air. He rubbed his temples, trying to find some solace in this chaotic world. None ever came, but the motion was deeply engrained in his muscles.

Slowly, Grayvern got to his feet, wincing at the ache in his muscles, before plunging his hand into a small slit in his armour, drawing out a faded slip of paper. On it, written in the same quasi-legible scrawl as on all documents in Violet Orange, was an advertisement for the fourth installment of Trouble.

The Toa of Water hadn’t participated in the last three, always believing himself unworthy to fight for honour and glory. However, this year, after all the time he had spent in self-hate and penance, perhaps he could rise above that, to compete the title of Trouble.

Slipping the paper back into his armour, he began walking down the streets of Underhorror, a grim smile on his face.

“Time for some trouble...” he muttered under his breath.

A few paces away from his resting spot, he spotted two figures, a Toa laying in a heap on the ground (Paktii) with a massive Frostelus leaning over him (Zaphos).

“Hello there random tripping being,” Grayvern heard the Frostelus say, “Please state why you tripped over me before I eat you.”

Grayvern quickly sidestepped in-between the two beings, blocking any possible attempts at eating anything by anyone, “Now, my friend, let’s not be hasty here. I’m sure there’s a way we can work this out.”

-Void

[Constructman: Black Knight]

OOC: Not getting interaction so I have contracted Daedra syndrome

IC: Elkaren
The end of his shift, he was ready to go home. He left the castle and started walking over to Maze Craze. Before he could do so, however, he noticed a toa lying in a heap on the ground and a frostetelus standing over him.
What's going on?" he asked.

[Jedi Knight Krazy]

IC: Paktii - Underhorror

Paktii scrambled to his feet and looked at the Frostelus. He actually hadn't even seen a Frostelus before, but they seemed polite enough, if this one was indicative of the rest of his species, which he probably wasn't, because everyone down here was... WHACK! (That was the sound of Paktii hitting his mask... it's a very common sound. When Paktii is nearby. Obviously, when he's not nearby, you won't be able to hear him hitting his mask, but he probably still will be, unless he's asleep, in which case WHACK!)

Before he could say anything, a dark-armored Toa (Grayvern) stepped in front of him. "Now, my friend," he said to the Frostelus. "Let's not be hast here. I'm sure there's a way we can work this out."

"I'm Paktii," said Paktii. Anything else would be a lie. He continued with the part of his story that were less obvious.
"I was chasing my robot, which appears to have either been kidnapped by, or has run away with, that Vortixx over there."

Paktii looked over where he had last seen the Vortixx ('Ta') to make sure that he was still there, and partially to confirm that he had ever existed in the first place. He was there, only a few yards from where Paktii had last seen them, staring into his flaming club and laughing. He still couldn't see Wilson or whatever the robot was called, but there were more pressing matters, including the Toa of Light (Elkaren) that walked up and asked "What's going on?"

Paktii repeated the first part of his story. "One thing about the robot," he added. "He can't move if you're looking at it, but if you look away, or even blink" - he chuckled despite not knowing why that was funny - "it'll start running away. It's not really a threat, I just want it back."

"Uh... I don't really know what to call you guys, and my internal dialogue is getting stale naming you guys by species," he said to the Frostelus, Toa of Light, and other Toa. "Plus I think that's kind of rude. What are your names? I'm Paktii by the way. I think I might have already said that. To some of you at least. You keep popping up."

"Oh, and can you help me get my robot back?"

Edited by Jedi Knight Krazy, Oct 01 2012 - 06:53 PM.

[Constructman: Black Knight]

IC: Elkaren
"Robot? What's a robot?" Elkaren wasn't a tech savvy guy, so he had no idea what they were talking about. "But the name's Elkaren. Guard. What faction are you?"

[ZHX]

IC: Zaphos

"Don't worry," said the Frostelus cheerfully. "I'm not going to eat the guy unless he tripped over me on purpose. Besides, you gotta respect the rights of a being like me to eat other sentient creatures. That's how we roll you know?"

Zaphos was completely ignoring the rights of other sentient beings to not be eaten.

"Anyway, seeing that I doubt you wanted to trip over me on purpose, you're not getting eaten! I'm Zaphos if you want to know."

Edited by It's a Gundam!, Oct 01 2012 - 06:56 PM.

[Hurricane iBrow]

IC: Vertak, Alleyway, Underhorror:

The Matoran leaned against the wall, blending in with the darkness so perfectly that several odd Toa and Matoran had already staggered by without noticing him. Although, to be honest, Vertak wasn't 100% certain they would care if they did notice. Or maybe they were just gone. Or maybe... if didn't matter.

What did matter was that his head was splitting after the previous night, and as such he could quite remember where he was supposed to be. The King... it definitely had something to do with the King. Maybe the castle too, but at the moment Vertak honestly didn't care to attempt to find his way back there. He glanced at a particularly filthy piece of garbage that had been annoying him for several hours and snorted, giving up and turning to walk away. He stumbled into the wall on the other side of the alley to start off, but after that he was fine, despite some dizziness.

Amongst other random tidbits of memory floating within his disorganized brain at the moment, Vertak thought about the upcoming Trouble Tournament for all of five seconds before he was distracted by the scene he witnessed in the street. He stumbled over, ignoring what appeared as though it may be a hostile situation, and stood a few feet away, staring at the Frostelus and his three pals silently. Vertak's mind flashed to his sword, but then his headache intensified briefly and he forgot about the thought.

"What odd fellows." Vertak said to himself. "Chasing a robot that doesn't move but at the same time does move, while also attempting to eat each other? Even I can't do that many things at once."

Vertak grinned to himself for a few seconds before realizing that he looked stupid and stopping to pretend as if nothing had occured. However, it did not occur to him that perhaps his standing there watching was a tad bit strange.

[Constructman: Black Knight]

IC: Elkaren
Elkaren had noticed that he was ignoring the rights of other sentient creatures to not be eaten. "Wha?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure Mata Nui cow tastes better than toa?" In reality, he had no way to know which was tastier; he wasn't a cannibal after all; he was just trying to divert this guy from being cannibalistic. Then he noticed a matoran just standing there. "Can I help you sir?" he asked.

Edited by Constructman, Oct 01 2012 - 06:58 PM.

[Zakar0%]

IC: 'Ta' (Underhorror)
The Vortixx known as 'Ta' noticed none of what was going on, and instead sat down. He was still staring into the fire, and would probably continue to do so until distracted by something like food. Or a bigger fire.
"Fire..." he mumbled, eyes still staring into the flame's flickering depths.
Zakaro

[Hurricane iBrow]

OOC: Just gonna forcefully enter myself into this...

IC: Vertak, Underhorror Street:

"Wait just a minute..." Vertak interrupted. "I've had Mata-Nui cow, and it was horrible. You really shouldn't lie to people like that."

He fell silent for a moment, pondering the words spoken before speaking again.

"What is Mata-Nui cow, anyway?"

Edited by Voltex, Oct 01 2012 - 07:00 PM.

[Constructman: Black Knight]

OOC: Doesn't it taste like beef?
IC: Elkaren
Elkaren's mask glowed. His Rode would discern the truth (cue ominous music). But then it faded, with no answer being given from the mask. The Rode wasn't good at solving problems of opinion like these. "I dunno," he said. "I tried it and it tasted like... beef. Maybe it's a subjective thing?"

Edited by Constructman, Oct 01 2012 - 07:02 PM.

[Magnus Greel]

IC: Underhorror

"My, my."

The amused voice came from across the way of the assembled beings. In the shadows of an alleyway, the outline of a figure, most likely a Skakdi, could be seen leaning casually against a wall. The only distinct features were a pair of red, almost circular eyes, which darted back and forth from the claws of and outstretched arm.

"Isn't it a little early for a party?" Reptak asked no one in particular in the group, while examining his dirty nails for grime.

Edited by Magnus Greel, Oct 01 2012 - 08:22 PM.

[ZHX]

IC: Zaphos

"It's a cow. Of course its meat is classified as beef!"

Zaphos had no idea why there was a giant crowd of beings now, and he wondered if eating them would be possible. Of course, he probably wouldn't be able to, seeing that they didn't do anything to wrong him.

Yet.

[Dreadheart]

IC:

Grayvern glanced around at the sudden gathering of beings around them, slightly confused at the odd occurrence.

"You can call me Grayvern," he said, rotating around to see the assembled group, "However, if you are wondering, Mata-Nui cow tastes much better than Toa, in almost every way."

-Void

[Hurricane iBrow]

IC: Vertak, Underhorror Street:

Vertak shrugged, then casually grabbed at his hand and stiffened as another wave of dizziness washed over him.

"Got it... I'll make sure to try it sometime." he grunted. "In the meantime, here's an idea for you all: the creepy Skakdi over there can stop being so creepy, the hungry Frostelus can pick a different Toa to eat that I'm not watching be eaten, and someone else can give me directions to the castle. Assuming any of you still know where the castle is or aren't insane or aren't in the exact same condition as me."

[Constructman: Black Knight]

IC: Elkaren
"I know where the castle is. I work there." It was going in the opposite direction from Maze Craze, but hey; he was a guard, and guards help people. "I can show you the way if you like."

[Hurricane iBrow]

IC: Vertak, Underhorror Street:

Through the haze of what Vertak guessed was the combination of a super-hangover and his mind slowly eroding, Vertak squinted at Elkaren and focused on what he had said.

"You're a Guard?" he asked. "So'm I... do I know you? Name is Vertak. I'm a little... out of comission at the moment."

A lot out of comission, if the state of his head was anything to go by, but Vertak was sure Elkaren didn't need to know that.

[Constructman: Black Knight]

IC: Elkaren
"Elkaren," he simply said in reply. "And yeah, you don't look that great."

[Hurricane iBrow]

IC: Vertak, Underhorror Street:

"Hey now, I look fine!" Vertak protested.

Then he decided that perhaps the guard had a point and maybe he did look terrible. He wasn't exactly sure how long he'd sat in that garbage infested alleyway, but he was fairly certain he'd woken up there... okay, fifty percent. Maybe ten.

So he had no idea, but he did think he maybe smelled a little bad.

"Alright, maybe I'm looking a little worse for wear." he admitted, flicking a bit of something he never wanted to think about again off of him arm towards the rest of the group.

His armor, although Vertak did not know it, also just had the general look of one that had spent three nights AWOL in the streets of Underhorror - if Vertak were in the fit enough state of mind to remember that information, he'd also remember that it was mostly because after 5000+ years he still couldn't remember the layout of the city.

[Constructman: Black Knight]

IC: Elkaren
"So do you need a guide to the castle or not?" Elkaren asked. This other guard, if he was a guard, was certainly not the type of guard the guard school teachers had told him to be.

[Hurricane iBrow]

IC: Vertak, Underhorror Street:

"Yes please." Vertak said. "Once there I will find my room and find my stuff and be better. I will come out a new Matoran!"

He paused, beaming for several seconds before shrugging.

"Or at least, a less filthy and... what was I going to say... something Matoran."

[Constructman: Black Knight]

IC: Elkaren
Elkaren started walking towards the castle... And away from Maze Craze. If he had any complaints about this, he kept them to himself.

[Jedi Knight Krazy]

IC: Paktii - Underhorror

Paktii stood back as the conversation shifted from his robot problem to cows. "Where's the beef!?" he exclaimed, his patience finally exhausted. "If there's no beef, stop talking about beef. You're making me hungry. And you won't like me when I'm hungry. Get it... it's... ah, never mind." He glanced at the Frostelus Zaphos, whom he imagined he would not like if it was hungry.

Meanwhile, Elkaren and Vertak walked off towards the castle. Apparently they had gotten bored after standing around talking about the comparative taste of cows and Toa for a whole... he checked his timepiece - 5 minutes.

"I'm gonna go talk to that Vortixx over there, see if I can't get Wilson back." said Paktii.

He walked over to the Vortixx that he didn't know was named 'Ta'. Paktii cleared his throat. "Excuse me... did you... ah, have you seen a small robot around here? Answers to Wilson? Actually, it doesn't, I named it after it ran away. Um, in case you don't know what a robot is, it's a metal thing that moves. Except this one doesn't move if you're looking at it. But if you have seen it, please do continue to look at it because I would really rather it not run away again. Because it will if you're not looking at it."

Paktii stopped to catch his breath.

IC: Gwdkwowhi - Outskirts

Gwdkwowhi watched as a small piece of paper blew across the orange expanses; it was an unusually windy day in Violet Orange. It seemed to be coming from Underhorror. Calmly, he jogged to its position and stepped on it to stop it from blowing any further. Activating his mask, he grew a third leg to stand on as he changed the foot that was on the paper into a claw and brought it to his hands. He brought his foot down, removed the third leg, and sat down on a rock to read. To an observer, this casual shapeshifting would seem wasteful. To Gwdkwowhi, it was his life. All he could do was change.

The flyer announced the return of Trouble. Gwdkwowhi had only heard of Trouble from travellers in the Outskirts - a competition for all of Violet Orange to prove their worth. There was no other news, no information about a missing Toa of Plasma, no biography that would hint at the identity of Uthermi, his past self. He started to crumple up the paper and throw it back towards the disgusted city from which it came, but stopped himself.

Trouble was a competition to prove one's worth - one's abilities - one's adaptability. Gwdkwowhi had no identity, no limits, no past experience that would tie him to specific way of doing things. He could compete in Trouble.

He shifted his head's form around slightly in an attempt to make his brain work better. Competing in Trouble? Only a crazy person would do that - especially this time around, with the deadly games listed in the flyer. And there would plenty of crazy beings around, he certainly didn't need to be anything like them.

But... what was the point in not joining? He had wandered around the Outskirts for 300 years, learning nothing about Uthermi. Why not make a new life for himself - with a reputation not as a loner, but a victor?

He wasn't sure he liked where this train of thought was heading. He wished he could talk to somebody about it - preferably someone sane, but he couldn't be too picky. He scanned the landscape for someone nearby. To his surprise, he saw a humanoid, Rahkshi-like creature (Karorahk) wandering around a few hundred yards away. He stood up and walked toward the creature, curiosity overwhelming his desire to think about Trouble.

"Hello. Can you speak?" Gwdkwowhi asked.

You had to ask around these parts.

OOC: Open for other interaction.

[Zeal]

IC: Sable

The unusually windy day in Violet Orange reminded him why he never came here. Flecks of sand were flying from his body every which way, as he struggled to maintain his form.

Being made of sand does have its downsides.

He then remembered that he wasn't going the right way back to Underhorror. He dispersed his body, becoming a miniature sandstorm. Not the strangest sight anyone had ever seen, but it was getting up there. Once behind shelter, he reformed himself, and looked around cautiously. You had to keep an eye out for trouble in these parts. A word on a poster caught his eye.

TROUBLE.

I'll be darned, he thought to himself, as he snaked his way over to the poster. A new competition for Trouble. The chance he'd been looking for, to rise from thief to king. He twisted his head behind him, and spied a collection of beings. He waltzed his way over to them, looking rather smug.

OOC: Open for interaction. The collection of beings could be anyone.

Edited by Clockwork Kineticist, Oct 02 2012 - 03:53 AM.

[The Lorax]

IC (Karorahk, Outskirts): Karorahk turned to see a being clad in bright orange armour coming towards him, and speaking. This was an unusual occurrence for him - not the approaching part, but the speaking bit. He didn't hear many beings speak to him in a language that was not rahi. Captured by his curiosity, he returned the favour.
"I am able to speak" he replied. "Are you?"

[Hurricane iBrow]

IC: Vertak, Underhorror:

Vertak followed the other guard, humming to himself softly and tapping his armor as they walked along to distract himself, else he'd probably stay where he was and just wish pain did not exist in the world... and he was fairly certain that he'd been through this situation twice in the past two days already, so it wasn't like it was going to be a new experience or anything.

[Jedi Knight Krazy]

IC: Gwdkwowhi, Outskirts

"Yes." said Gwdkwowhi irritably. "Yes, I can speak, which you might have guessed from the fact that I was the first one to speak in this conversation."

He sighed and calmed himself. It was just going to be one of those days.

"My name's Gwdkwowhi." He smiled slightly as he remembered the panic in the eyes of every being he'd ever told his name - not fear of him, but of pronounciation. "You can call me Gwd. What are you doing out here?"

Edited by Jedi Knight Krazy, Oct 02 2012 - 09:04 AM.

[The Lorax]

IC (Karorahk, Outskirts): "Pardon me" Karorahk apologised. "I wanted to be sure. Greetings, Gwidkwowhi the Speaker. I am Karorahk, and... what was it you asked? Oh yes" he smiled at having caught himself "What am I doing? I am introducing myself to Gwidkwowhi the Speaker, and wondering what he will speak about next".