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  1. 7 points
    A challenge seemed enticing, so I designed this sewing pattern for a Vahi face mask. The pattern was created by tracing the outline of a scaled Vahi mask off a monitor, onto a piece of paper. Then the outline was cut and splayed to the angle of a fitted face mask and seam allowances were added. Here is the finished mask. It’s 3-ply, has a nose wire casing and includes a filter pocket. It’s made in XL size, because that seems to be the most common size people request. (Sorry for the frightening facial blurring.) You can make one too, if you would like! The photo tutorial and pattern are below. It is a preliminary hand-drawn pattern, so lines are a bit rough. The steps also could be streamlined further if one had more fabric, but this one was designed from scraps. The measurements are in US customary units. The pattern is for an XL size mask, but I have included my “Master block pattern” that has all of the additional sizes listed. You would need to re-scale the Vahi mask parts page in your printer settings for the smaller sizes. Cut out the pattern along the labeled line with your desired size. *It is for personal/non-commercial use only (I suspect that commercial use may violate copyright/trademark/patent laws and am avoiding such applications because of this). *Disclaimer: This mask design has not been tested for effectiveness and does not replace personal protective equipment like medical or construction masks. This mask does not prevent, protect from, or reduce viruses or diseases. Notes: All of the seam allowances are ¼” unless otherwise stated. Pre-wash all cotton fabrics on warm or cold, prior to cutting to prevent shrinkage. Color-fasting may be necessary if the fabric dye “bleeds” when wet. Iron cotton fabrics before cutting. This may not be the best pattern for beginners. I've been sewing for 10 years and it took me five hours to cut, sew and assemble the mask after the initial pattern drafting. This is a markedly longer time period for mask construction, so don’t be discouraged if it takes a while to complete. Size guide: 2XL is for extra large faces and loosely fits on the neck. It was designed to accommodate facial swelling. 2XL mask dimensions are as follows: Length across center: 11” Width/height: 6.75”. XL is designed to fit males & females with larger builds. XL dimensions are as follows: H 6” W 8.5”. Model shown is wearing size XL. L fits average/larger medium males and females. L dimensions are as follows: H 5.25” W 9”. M fits average females, males and teenagers. M dimensions are as follows: H 5” W 7.5”. Care Instructions: Wash before wearing. Hand wash cold, air dry. May be carefully ironed after fully dry. Do not iron the leather patch details or elastic straps, as they may melt. Tools/Supplies needed: Sewing machine Overlock machine/serger (optional, zigzag stitching may be used) Scissors Tracing wheel Pins and a hand sewing needle Toothpicks (optional) Ironing ham, mini ironing ham, or towels wadded into a ball shape. Disappearing ink fabric marker Fabri-tac or similar fabric glue Washable glue stick or Lapel Stick ⅛” or ¼” wide elastic, preferably in black. One nose wire. I use soft, plastic coated wires that are similar to twist ties. Black, orange and white polyester sewing machine thread Fabric needed (generous estimations to allow for miscuts): About ½ yard of very dark gray cotton fabric for mask outer About ½ yard of orange cotton fabric for Vahi mask details About ½ yard of white muslin for the lining and filter pocket ⅛ to ¼ yard of black faux leather, or very thin real leather for the oval patch details 3 Page pattern: Page1 Page2 Page3 Kind of messy photo tutorial: (I have linked to the photos, so as not to overwhelm the website. I unfortunately do not know how to directly link to them. Here is the Complete Album , in case that's easier.) Step1 Step2 Step3 Step4 Step5 Step6 Step7 Step8 Step9 Step10 Step11 Step12 Step13 Step14 Step15 Step16 Step17 Step18 Step19 Step20 Step21 Step22 Step23 Step24 I hope these steps make sense, this wasn't really a planned thing. Best wishes and hope you have fun if you decide to make one!
  2. 7 points
    Hi all, so: it has come to my attention that I put too much on my plate, and just take far too long to reply to things. I have therefore decided to officially drop out of SKR. Thank you all for having me join you for a while, it was fun! And I wish you all best of luck for your storytelling endeavours.
  3. 7 points
    IC: Taja | Grand Temple Ruins Worthy? Who knew what that meant. Already, Taja knew that this island played by different rules, and even the Aspects seemed put off by this disembodied voice. Its idea of "worthy" could mean anything. Nevertheless, she was wiling to play by its rules. She brushed off the comments about her transformation. She ignored the haughty tone that riled even Whisper. She breathed in the warm jungle air and breathed it out. She kept her cool. "Thank you for your hospitality," she said. "I'll do my best." Apex and Morangad had each taken a doorway for themselves, so Taja chose the leftmost path. Stepping carefully around the pool with the gleaming lotus flower (so white it made her eyes ache), she walked into the cool hallway. Her eyes moved over the stone walls, taking in the arcane hieroglyphs and ancient etchings whose meanings had been lost to time. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator what's in the next room? IC: Tuakana | Ash Barrens They loped across the land. Strings of moss swayed with each stride, and the stars turned overhead. IC: Oreius | Throne Room, the Coliseum It was like watching looped security footage. Stannis spoke, and every word was an echo, reminding Oreius of a speech he had heard a thousand years ago. What do you wish for? That question was a trap, wreathed in sweet smoke to hide the danger. Half-mad with grief, Oreius had not known what he wished for even as he wished it. At least, that was what he told himself. That was the story he had rehearsed ever since that fateful day to justify his blasphemy. The alternative was too terrible to contemplate, so he believed it. He had not known. He had been tricked. Stannis had found him at his darkest point and coaxed him into a trap that hinged on those seemingly-insignificant words: What do you wish for? What does anyone wish for? Power, riches, fame, love... all mere shadows of the one true wish: to change. To remake the world. To look upon reality and change its shape, to smooth its edges and round its corners according to your own desires. And that was the greatest blasphemy of all: to behold a world crafted by the Great Spirit and deem it imperfect. To pretend to be equal to the grand Creator, the supreme Architect... it was folly. That was the trap. Stannis used smooth words to hide his heresy. Every wish granted was an affront to Mata Nui himself. Oreius knew better now, but he was powerless to intervene. His tongue was bound by an ancient oath, and his limbs by an unbreakable promise. So he merely stood and observed in silent horror, watching history repeat itself.
  4. 5 points
    too late Overview Left Side Right Side Three-Quarters Rear Front View Charging Handle Opened Action Mid-Charge Magazine Detached Candid Shot
  5. 5 points
    IC Yumiwak | Panda II The clear pronouncement of this Zataka's status and prowess gave me sufficient pause to realize diplomacy would have to be more wisely employed. Threatening this Zataka would not help me or my crew—but that did not mean I had to meet her truthfulness on par. By telling us what and who she was, Zataka sharpened my own senses, and if this was actually supposed to be a ploy of hers it would be clever indeed. For the moment, though, I chomped on a portion of my ego and did not meet her strength head-on, though to say I disliked her status as a threat was an understatement. She needed to be contained, but to do that I needed to use guile, not brute force. "I'm not sure," I admitted—truthfully, mind you—"but I first wanted to know what you had to offer. You and your kind are an enigma to me and I wanted to learn why your god's accursed head fell on our realms, and when I heard of someone from that world possessed admirable power I was driven to find out more. "I suppose... at the core, I'm curious and you interest me. This world we call Zakaz is a treacherous quagmire of strife and decay where power is earned and then used like a tool to reshape the land. I suppose the question is mutual, then: What can you do to help me?" IC Leklo | Fortress Ruin The errant-toa slayed motionless in the pile of rocks, indistinguishable from the rubble in the pre-dawn darkness that shrouded everything but the shimmering sea he could barely discern from the edge of his eyes and ears. He thought he heard Ultan scamper around and thought that perhaps his ally would come to his aid, help him up, and make sure he was alright, but quickly his hopes were dashed as the footfalls faded away towards the lumbering foe they'd chosen to mettle with, so Leklo remained on his back, methodically sensing if he still possessed the ability to feel below his neck and move. He'd practiced similar meditations when he was The Alpinist. He hated falling, and in fact utterly feared it, but sometimes it had proven an inevitable fate on the occasions of chomping on more than he could chew or haphazardly choosing the wrong precipice to grab onto. When that happened there was nothing to be done about it. No level of clawing, screaming, or debating could solve the quandary. Leklo had become rather good at the mental power of acceptance as a direct consequence of his falls, and simultaneously how to recover from them. He could not rejoin the battle, not yet, and he instead focused his mentality inwards. Muscle by muscle, appendage by component, he surveilled himself. He could still move all his fingers and his toes reacted likewise so at least his arms were not paralyzed, though his back ached like a mother's trucker regardless. At a gentle stirring of his chest muscles he felt further stabbing pains all around his torso, indicative of broken somethings beneath his armor. He'd been flung straight backwards through the walls and so the brunt of everything was taken there, and his toa-armor had done little more than preserve his intactness by his estimations. Above the din of battle and through the mental fog that blessed his external senses, though, he heard a familiar voice barreling out into the void incantations of heretical prose. “Mata-Nui loves us! He raises us! He shields us! He shows us our purpose and we obey. "To think you might have known your purpose only to abandon it. To think you would stand and imagine you are proud. "You are not proud—you are pitiful!” Unfortunately for the sycophant, Leklo's skill at acceptance ever only went as far as his arms reached. Axonn's proclamations incensed Leklo more than anything else he'd heard that day. He loved Mata Nui as much as anyone, he supposed, but he loved his friends more; at least he could touch them and see their deeds in action. To have them called pitiful flew in the face of every proof he'd seen—they were strong, resourceful, valiant, and generous. They were not pitiful, they were everything they needed to be and more, and Leklo's duty was not to some forgetful god but to the people he cared about. He would not stand for it, not so long as he could stand, and so he set out to prove himself that he still could do so. His servos strained and his muscles burgeoned as he slowly curled his legs up and tried to push himself from the earth. His friends needed him, and he would be there for them even if it killed him.
  6. 5 points
    "We shared our victories, and our punishment... so we will share the power of this mask as well." ~Kalmah This was a collab made with several other builder's. Check out their creations here: Takadox Carapar Nocturn Pridak If you guys enjoy what I make, visit my flickr and instagram pages! Flickr Page: awesomenessborn Instagram: awesomenessborn
  7. 5 points
    IC Stannis | Coliseum (Once-friend.) (You are talking to me now. I can hear you.) The mage shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His whole garment shimmered in the midnight lights as he tilted to the side and suddenly spun elegantly on his heel, headed towards the hidden bookshelf door from whence he had come before with the rest. He would not stay. The Wanderer had to always be moving. The Archives beckoned for him again, this time with greater urgency. He needed what he had hidden there, deep at the core, in his ancient lair. (Once-friend.) (Thank you—for pledging yourself to me and for doing it so willingly.) Aurax's shackles were more literal than he had imagined. The kraata that had been borne from the core of Pridak's deep-seated paranoia had become well and truly a part of Aurax's existence, forever buried into the nape of his neck like a shark hook, and it was a direct line to his past and future. There would be no escaping the sins of history, either his or his predecessor's, and Stannis was free to use him as a tiller of the future with the full might of Fate at his back. (But this pledge works both ways, for as you are bound to me as my property, I am bound to you as your patron. (And should you ever need me—truly need me—to defend what is mine... (Well ...) "You need only wish for me," he spoke aloud. Aurax could feel a chuckle course down in his spine. He had made a deal with a devil, and the only one who could hold any compassion for his fate was the Ta-Maru who resented him. (Metru Nui is in your hands now.)
  8. 5 points
    —Music— IC Stannis | Coliseum “Come close, then,” Stannis beckoned. The warmage had been looking forward to a moments such as this for a very long time, when he could both boon and influence a real mover and shaker of things. Stannis never wished for a crown himself, much preferring to support and advise warlords and turaga over being the figurehead, and this was hardly the first time he’d found the opportunity to hold sway with a ruler. But it was the most momentous one because it was the closest to home he’d been in a hundred centuries. In a sort of fashion, Stannis held his own court despite never being in a formalized position to do so. Kings, toa, turaga, and akiri had all been in his privy councils over the years and by spreading rationed information and wisdom he wrought his own sort of control as a leading advisor. But all that was paltry politics compared to what he was about to commit with Aurax. “Closer,” Stannis demanded when Aurax got up from the throne but stubbornly hadn’t step down to the old man yet. “We haven’t much time.” (Once-brother.) The new king was a pretender, a liar, a thief, and he needed every benefit he could get to maintain his tentative grasp on the throne—and he knew it. What else enticed him to place ‘faith’ in Stannis except his own desperation? Stannis reflected. Not trust, not friendship, no bonds of brotherhood compelled him to answer the old warlock’s beckons. No, it was fear that allowed Aurax to give consent, and like a vampire in the night Stannis capitalized on the invitation with a nefarious glee, exacting his own brand of revenge upon the unwitting monarch. In a fit of poetics Aurax would be able to control every fear except his own—Stannis would make sure of it. Power never came at a fair cost. With his elemental power Stannis conjured an obsidian dagger in his hand, clenched his jaw upon the neck of his pipe, and plunged the stone edge into Pridak’s chest before anyone could realize what he was doing. Deep crimson ichor quickly saturated the wound and sloshed about as the wizard inserted his hands into the still pool of blood, seized something, and finally withdrew the old king’s heartlight—still beating, if slowly. (I am sorry again.) He hadn't recited the rite's passage since when he granted Oreius the gift of an everlasting life with Inu his beloved, and the words didn't come any easier than they had back then. It remained a rusty art, dulled from the lack of practice and corrupted from an unreplentished memory, but the magic was still there and he-who-walked-as-Stannis mouthed the first few words before the voice crackled into reality. The rest flowed out like water from a fountain, each word following the one before it in liquid beauty. "Goodbye, Hello. Step forth into the darkness and prepare the gift. A star’s heart still beating, still lit, Two midnight horrors cry and shift. Make them squirm inside the pit Bind worm and willing host, Tear the yolk and spread its gold, Devour knowledge and their ghost. Pray for prey forever sold. Hello, And goodbye.” The heartlight had shifted mid-litany into something else, something alive but fundamentally alien to the two League toa. It wretched and writhed like a leech eager to latch onto flesh, screeching in anguish and fear as it had been brought back from the precipice of death only to live in a nightmare. It was Pridak, and it was not. It wished for release, and it wished for anchor. Stannis held it oout to Aurax and it almost leapt from his slippery, blood-soaked hands and onto Aurax, finding perch at the top of the now-king’s spine, and the reaction of sheer fright and aghast was immediate as the veritable flood of thoughts and emotions swarmed from the kraata and into Aurax’s mind. “I give you the power to instill Fear in the hearts of others," Stannis narrated, "such that your presence causes them unease, emotions of paranoia flit like shadows around you, and some may even become catatonic in fright. Pridak’s heart is forever bound to you… and may his superstitious thoughts plague your every moment as his successor.” As the last words fully settled in Aurax’s mind a new sensation of terror dawned upon him as he realized this bestowment was as much a boon as a betrayal. Nothing was how it had seemed. “Let your first lesson in kingship be that a crown is not a symbol of sovereignty, it is a shackle on your mind.” (Once-friend.) Aurax could barely see a slight smile tilt at the corners of Stannis' mask. (Wish granted.)
  9. 5 points
    From The Desk: Extend SKR? Yes: 90.9% No: 9.1% SKR is extended until 12/31/2020! We’ll be ringing in the new year with SK3. That said, I think a challenge has plenty of time to take place for the innocent inhabitants of Le-Metru Nuva, as well as a few other interesting developments for the island as a whole. I’m incredibly excited to see what we all create with the extra time we have. You’re all collaborating and playing well, and I’m excited to continue this story. Weekly Summary: Le-Metru Nuva continues its advancement towards unlocking the techniques to forge a Great Disk. The Warskaks recline and feast, considering the scope of the world and their place in it. Those at the Ruins of Fire begin to fall into two lines as fighting starts! The Ruins of Air are once again attempted. Metru-Koro continues to slowly move on from the end of the battle. Plans are made, soon to become actions. We find out that vahki and krahli can maybe live in peace, and that maybe matoran and the rest of the world can too. Weekly Fav: Honestly, Parnassus is a treat. I am excited to see the plans brewing to recover the Krom Sphere. I was wondering if that would happen. Zak-Yak never disappoints.
  10. 5 points
    IC: Achro and Waveahk (The Coliseum, Throne Room) "That's... that's it? OK..." Great. Now Achro was both confused and disappointed. He had absolutely no clue who these people were, why they thought they were Toa, or whatever their problem was. Waveahk was just glad nothing had gone wrong this time, though it came very close to doing so. Not because of Rose and Skyra, as he’d suspected, or even Aurax and Saybo, but because of this random zealot, nearly undoing all their work for the sake of feeling righteous. That was a common theme he had noticed. Both the Toa and the Barraki were so sure in their cause that they were perfectly willing to commit all manner of atrocity to further it. Really, the only difference was that one fought for racial supremacy masquerading as religion, and the other personally screwed him over. But the Barraki were nearly all gone now. And Aurax, though untrustworthy, clearly didn’t buy into any of that 'Three Virtues' garbage and treated him like a living being, unlike Thing One and Thing Two, who refused to acknowledge his authority despite their Turaga granting him it. Oh sure, they tried to cover it up with idiocy and hypocrisy, and while those were present, Waveahk knew what the real underlying reason was. He moved to the elevator, to leave as Stannis 'requested'. Maybe, once his services - and thus, his existence - were no longer required by Metru-Koro, King Aurax might be in need of those services. Oh, sure, Stannis said he regretted nearly killing him, but he would have the Odd Couple tear him apart as soon as it became inconvenient to keep him around. He was Stannis, after all. He could do no wrong. Something to think about for the future. "If this really is the end, I just have to say this: working with you all… was a chore." @Tarn@Snelly@~Xemnas~@Kal the Guardian@Eyru@EmperorWhenua IC: Tekmo (Silver Sea Shoreline, Toa Canister) After the lid of the Canister popped off with a hiss of pressurized steam, Tekmo emerged from it, eyes readjusting to the light. The cylindrical transport had successfully conveyed him across the Silver Sea. Which was good, considering what happened to that misbegotten League ship captain who spoke broken Matoran. He had fury, indeed. Tekmo scanned the horizon behind him for any sign of Vulimai and Knichou’s Canister. @Sparticus147@BULiK IC: Gnabol (Metru-Koro, Village Infirmary) Gnabol was disconcerted - more so - by Mazor's mention of an 'outside force'. "Not sure how I feel about that, but I do feel that leaving the thing in League territory, doing nothing about it and just hoping they don't find it based on that there might be some rocks in the way is... not good." @Smudge8@Tarn
  11. 4 points
    IC Stannis | Coliseum The door behind the dark Wanderer shut and along with it went the serenity the previous setting afforded him. The trauma he'd experienced throughout the fight struck back at him in waves. His ears ached at the memory of the roar of wind from his descent, his chest reminded him of the horrifying sensation as the takean sword pierced through his flesh and broke his brittle bones like sticks, and his muscles strained to maintain their integrity as his essence was sapped away ounce by painful ounce. Stannis' mind raced through a thousand images in a flash but could not decipher them into a clear concept. Struck with a sudden fit of vertigo, Stannis grasped the wall of the tunnel to regain his balance. Instinctively, he felt for his chest, as if to confirm that it had in fact healed, and was relieved to see that it had in fact sealed the wound up, but he suddenly had a moment of dawning as well. He felt weak, weaker than in a very long time, as though his power had been utterly ripped from his marrow—and it had. He refused to think desecrating Aurax was a mistake, but it was an overextension to be sure. Already he'd lost much of his antidermis from the previous wound he suffered at the hand of Pridak and his subsequent cascade and reconstitution, but a good dose of what little he had left in his body was used up in the subsequent ritual and left him with fumes. Stannis had little faith in his ability to properly defend himself if he were threatened at that point, but he was not afraid for himself. Destiny was weird like that. The Archives, he thought mirthlessly. He'd been on his way there at the start of the assault on Metru Nui, what seemed like an eon ago, and while he hadn't made it quite to his destination the road was all but clear now. What he needed was a brief respite, a recharge, and to drink from the wellspring of vitality he kept in the Archives' most secretive passageways. From there he could recompose his mind and plan his next campaign towards his Grand Wish. He looked down the narrow hall in the Coliseum's recesses and saw it shimmer in and out of focus. It was barely wider than his arms-an but yawned forbiddingly like a vast chasm to his mind's eye. Like a man as old as he drunk from a night of wine, he cautiously tapped his staff in front of him with one hand and kept the other against the wall as he ponderously clicked and pattered his way towards the elevator. It would be a long walk to The Vault, but that was okay—he had time most others didn't have, after all.
  12. 4 points
    IC: Miserix | Ash Barrens The answer Drukarus received came with an intoxicating scent and a warm electrical charge; :It is certain.: ooc: @Sparticus147 IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Air Apex found herself unable to put two and two together. In the chamber on the right, she’d found the beginnings of a taboo ritual going in depth about the preparation and the significance of the yolk. In the leftmost chamber, Apex found the ritual’s end, but in both something was missing. The center of each floor held a strange symbol floating just so softly above the surface. Taja couldn’t help but notice the triangle either, once she found herself no longer entranced by the stars. However, in both their minds they knew something about the shape was incomplete. ooc: @Eyru, @Sparticus147, @Nato the Traveler, @Burnmad IC: The Administrator | Ruins of Fire “Oh, you have no idea,” the Administrator replied to Xane. Had he copied Xane’s confident tone? “Consider it a sacrifice fitting of the boon. It’s the only way to explain it. Only those of great skill could forge such a disk, and only those of true purpose would be willing to part with such immediate power.” ooc:@Nato the Traveler, @Toru Nui IC: Axxon | Ruined Fortress “Your departure will make reality correct again. I experience no honest pity for you,” Axxon replied as he raised his halberd and brought it down to behead his adversary. Soon he’d see the head roll. Soon he’d have one less to deal with. He could fix this. He would return Order to the world. Chaos didn’t like that idea, apparently. Axxon roared as the rubble crushed into his shoulders and broke against him. His attack swung wide, halberd biting into the ground and missing its mark. Each concrete chunk left long lines in the sand as they slowly came to a stop further down the beach. Axxon’s footing slipped and he nearly fell, but caught himself with a step. He stood battered but not downed. Scrapes from the concrete covered his armor, and the single horn on his mask now bent almost completely forward. His vision swam. “Who- “ Axxon wheeled around to see who assaulted him, but the toa of gravity and shadow proved faster. Korruhn’s first punch crushed into the painfully welded shut wounds on Axxon’s back where something now lived, the chitinous protodermis exterior cracking with the force and flakes spinning past Korruhn’s face. The amalgam inside Axxon yowled like a caged rahi. Whatever shred of stoicism Axxon retained after his transformation died as his vision faded. “Ah. The rain anoints our battlefield,” Axxon remarked as the second punch crushed against his chest. He felt the force travel like a shockwave through his body, and his nerves burned with the hot fire of warning pain. Breathing came a little harder, and with a sharp pain in Axxon’s ribs. Korruhn watched silver protodermis sliding down the grooves of Axxon’s kanohi as the titan continued; “It’s good luck to murder in a downpour. Every aspect of our inner horror is washed away.” Axxon’s vision returned in time to catch the full beauty of Ultan’s fiery lights impacting his right side. The twin fireballs scorched his arms and legs, leaving him as red and purple as metal put to the forge. The rain dried from the heat, but the blasts knocked his assailants back from him, dusting them with a fine coating of hot glass crystal from the melted sand. In the inferno Axxon learned the true meaning of the word pain. His voice proved empty as the fire ate the very air escaping his throat. He prayed, and somehow, his prayers were answered. He heard many voices of his god, crying in the same anguish from the depths of the waters lapping against the shore. The amalgam translated the twisted words. Axxon didn’t pray for a peaceful death. He prayed for justice. He prayed for holy vengeance. Axxon belonged to something greater than himself. That something responded. “Mata-Nui loves us. He raises us. He shields us. He shows us our purpose and we obey. To think you might have known your purpose only to abandon it,” Axonn shouted as the smoke drifted from his wounded form. He raised his halberd high, and a dark glimmer caught its blade. No time to safely test whatever untold changes befell his tool of war. The test was now, he decided with forced conviction. He concentrated on the something that responded. “To think you would stand and imagine you are proud. You are not proud. You are pitiful!” A thin silver thread emerged from the handle of the halberd. It wrapped around Axxon’s hand, and formed an intricate and throbbing web across him until it touched the welded scars. A bright flare of illumination burst outwards, followed by a shockwave and a peel of thunder. Suddenly Axxon was not alone. Two, then four, then six, and finally eight hollow specters of roughly matoran stature gained solid form as they drifted from one realm into another. Some were without, and others in excess. All could smell the living, and grew ravenous. Axxon didn’t know what he summoned. He didn’t even get to see it. Axxon blacked out standing tall and unmoving. But the amalgam was very much awake, and moved his newfound allies with the precision and poise of a master puppeteer. The throbbing veins of silver covering Axxon extended like an oily spider’s web to the specters, and the amalgam quietly did their work. The specters took their first steps on mortal soil since their banishing to the Far Shore at the end of the world, and they longed to stay. To do so, they knew they must feed. So they hunted the toa in front of them, swarming and yowling, as their mouths lawled open and hung slack, and their shoulders hunched, and they drew their hands back to tear apart those who stood ready for consumption. They would consume them. They would tear their mortal stars away. They would welcome them back home. OOC: @EmperorWhenua, @~Xemnas~, @The Captain, @Crimson Jester
  13. 4 points
    Hi all! Please check out and support my BIONICLE project on LEGO Ideas! BIONICLE Legacy aims to please longtime fans as well as potentially attract new ones. I wanted to remain faithful to original story motifs while also leaving an element of open-endedness so as to encourage a wider appeal. BIONICLE Legacy: Storytelling with the LEGO Brick My questions for you all are as follows: #1. In a future update, I feel like I need to further justify why Takua is included as a figure. I think adding another play feature for Takua would be beneficial. But the total piece count for BIONICLE Legacy is already at ~2850, so I’m trying to think of something that could be economical parts-wise, but also add play value to the set. Any thoughts? #2. Do you have any advice about other fan groups you may be aware of that may be interested in supporting this idea? Where else can this idea be promoted? I hope you can help this project get on shelves as an official set! Thank you!
  14. 3 points
    Recently I was able to assemble the sets necessary to build the 2004 combination model 'Ultimate Dume'. I did not expect to enjoy the model as much as I did, and it got me thinking about the many forms of Teridax. As the main villain, Teridax doesn't always have the same level of character development as perhaps the Toa Nuva have. However, I would argue that we can view his true motives and intentions just from the characterization and set appearance in each respective year from 2001-2004. 2001: Infected Matoran/Shadow Toa When the Toa Mata arrive, Teridax sees them as more of an annoyance than an actual threat. He's defeated many heroes in the past, and six heroes with amnesia aren't too big of a danger to his plan at all. However, Teridax has heard of the Toa Mata, and knows their purpose. In this form he chooses not to confront them directly, but rather play with them from the shadows to assess their powers and abilities. 2003: Shadow Titan Form This is the most "complete" version of Teridax. This is the version he uses in his confrontation against Takanuva, and when he fakes his own death. To me, this form represents Teridax at his most theatrical. He looks menacing but beatable, and I think this is very intentional. He brought himself down to a defeat-able level, both in stature and intimidation. 2004: Ultimate Dume The combination of Krekka, Nidhiki, Nivawk, and Teridax, Ultimate Dume represents Teridax from Legends of Metru Nui. I believe this is the 'truest' form of Teridax that we ever received in set form. Only in Legends of Metru Nui is the Makuta holding nothing back against the Toa Metru. In every set appearance after these years, Teridax is weakened, so his forms don't really reflect his full shapeshifting ability. What do you guys think?
  15. 3 points
    IC: Taja | Grand Temple Ruins A long moment passed, and nothing happened. Taja let out a frustrated sigh. Of course it wouldn't be that easy. She glanced sidelong at Apex. The elder Aspect's irritation seemed to have been replaced by genuine curiosity. Her instincts told her to be careful, but she saw no harm in trying to bridge the gap. Anyway, she had a feeling she would need the Aspect on her side if she wanted to capture the secrets hidden in this blasted temple. "I'm not entirely convinced they were wrong," she said finally. "I didn't choose... this." She looked down at her new body. She saw how her black armour drank in the light and refused to shine, and clenched her hands into fists. She heard the ancient being name her element void, and it felt right. Truer than darkness or shadow, the name reflected the icy hollow she carried in her chest. The emptiness. "I used to be an astronomer," she continued. "I looked to the stars for guidance, and they never steered me wrong. But now I'm in a strange land. Under stars who speak a different language. And I've got to find my own way." She looked up at the Aspect, refusing to flinch even under their primordial gaze. Apex's eyes were wild and strange, glimmering with an ancient intelligence that carried the burden of millennia. Taja felt suddenly small under their weight, but she stood straight and stared defiantly back. "That's why I use this power, even though I didn't ask for it and I don't trust it. Because it was given to me for a reason." The once-Toa of Sonics turned to the sky contained in the far wall. Her eyes flickered from one constellation to the next, and their names sprang to her mind like old friends. The sight of those familiar stars made her heart ache. "Maybe the same reason that brought us here." OOC: @Sparticus147
  16. 3 points
    I tried to make some 'low-key' revamps of the Turaga that would fit with the early year sets... and then I tried to make a video! I don't quite have all the perpendicular connector pieces in the lengths and colours I'd like but... pretty colours! https://youtu.be/PrHc6N-IJ44
  17. 3 points
    OOC: Thanks @Kal the Guardian and @Nato the Traveler for your patience! Work has been very busy and I wanted to make sure I got this right. IC: Reliable Narrator | Fau Swamps, Giant Sword Rahi with long plumage flew from their roosts, flapping away into the open sky at the sounds of weapons fire. The blasts from Viltia’s weapon carved chunks off the horde of bodies assaulting her and Sidra. Whatever kind of enemy she faced seemed to be unable to register the pain of an open wound. She couldn’t even be sure the enemy she faced was a them or an it. All Viltia knew was her leg burned from where the hand grabbed her. The host of the dead shifted form, pressing bodies and making bodies en masse. As if instead of trying a new wardrobe the host tried an entirely new group of beings. Wherever the bodies touched the earth, death came to the plants and the microorganisms in the dirt. With each death the mass of bodies seemed to swell in form, bulging, contorting, and reforming to accommodate new mass. The spindling veins of silver protorderms sprouted from the bodies, connecting them all and reaching out like tiny filaments to latch onto something new -- something alive! What could two refugees from a fallen world do to fight back against the ever-enclosing ring? “Join me,” came a voice to answer Sidra’s question. A cold fear came with the words. She’d heard the words before, but never in so strange a time. Sensing the ripples in the waters and feeling the weight landing on the ground, the crawling and running and wailing dead rushed Viltia’s kahu even as her pet tried to protect her. “Wish me,” came a new voice, discordant and from the mass of mouths that chattered in their connected web of physicality. It sounds different, but familiar. Someone she’d met long ago in her travels, perhaps? Or someone she saw last week on the streets of Metru-Nui? She couldn’t place it. “Stars,” came a third voice, hungry and malign with predatory intent. “Give me life.” It was not a question. The mass of bodies entwined in silver veins of protodermis continued their hungry assault, hands and arms flailing sightless and desperate towards the duo from Le-Metru Nuva. “Let me fix…”
  18. 3 points
    IC Kanohi and Bode and “Collector” - Po-Koro Kanohi flinched at the Vahki’s word of ‘evacuation,’ but quickly nodded. He let out a whimpering sign, his fingers drumming his armor anxiously. It … it was the right thing to do. The Vahki, maybe Nu only meant for them to evacuate temporarily, get to high ground, then return and rebuild. But between the Skakdi raid, the threat of another raid, and this horrible beast ruining the landscape, Po-Koro was not safe. They might have to find a new home. The Fe-Matoran trembled in the storm. Maybe they could come back and salvage things, or maybe they could only scavenge the remains, the village too ruined to rebuild. M-maybe they would find refuge in Metru-Koro. But it was going to be attacked by the League. Would they have to start over from zero again? Could they? Even if they scavenge the remains and carried them elsewhere, how could they rebuild the forge, the fields, the knowledge tower? He had failed this village even faster than Metru-Koro and Okoto. Then Arkius spoke, and Kanohi’s optics widened under his mask. He had to focus on the here and now. The Matoran nodding frantically. “I … I hadn’t even, A-Arkius, c-can you try to save him? If possible, you c-can try to stabilize the ground while you are there, keep the village from collapsing.” Kanohi did not wait for an answer, hearing a cry from the village. Quickly he aimed his built-in Volo Lutu Launcher and fired, hurtling himself at the gate. He flew over the wall before hooking a house, flinging himself back into the air above the quaking ground. With a lunge he shot out his arm, wrenching a flailing Po-Matoran from the growing quagmire. The vigilante’s arm strained under the weight, Kanohi hadn’t been grappling as much lately, but he managed to hold on. With a tumble they landed on a stone hut, which immediately began to crumble. Kanohi’s heartlight pounded as he drew his Kiril Staff, tapping it against the hut. The crude shelter strengthened, at least for the moment. Below Collector waded through the growing quagmire on their long legs, brandishing their Kanoka Blade. A smile was on their lips, like a Muaka spying an elderly sick Kane-Ra. As they approached a crumbling patch of ground they stabbed their Kanoka Blade into the mud, freezing it solid. They nodded and shoved through the flood of mud, using their ‘element’ to stabilize the earth lives. Kanohi panted on the hut, his arm aching from the strain. As he looked about he spied the Knowledge Tower, it’s crystalline walls up scratched by the rain, and fairly far from the crumbling tunnel. Mustering his strength he squeaked out a shout, “head to the Knowledge Tower, it’s withstanding the storm.” Then he dropped to his knees, saying, “climb on.” The Po-Matoran nodded and clung to the vigilante’s chest, who grappled away. Kanohi hurtled through the air, before latching his Volo Lutu Launcher to a relatively flare part of the roof of the crystal. He leaned over, letting the Matoran of Stone climb off, before grappling down. As he landed on a hut he tumbled, still out of practice. He hooked his launchers to stop his careening, before scanning the reaches of the village, looking for more needing help. Then Kanohi launched away, passing over Collector as the Vortixx froze more of the ground. While Collector shoved aside the flood they spotted flailing. They leaned over and scooped up a drowning Matoran, lifting her onto their shoulders. They smiled a massive grin at her, before continuing to wade, blade at the ready. Kanohi meanwhile scooped up a Le-Matoran onto his back, before grappling away. As he hurled and flung across the village, they passed over the field. Kanohi passed overhead without stopping, he had to return to the tower, and in the flood of mud, the gray of a Matoran of Sonics was all but invisible. Bode fell to his knees in the mud, clutching at his head. His mind was flooded with screams and pounded by thunder and rain, the raw sensory power of a De-Matoran overwhelmed him. He struggled to speak, shouting both mentally and verbally, “Ulkarr, please, it’s … it’s too much. The screaming is too much.” OOC: @pokemonlover360 @Toru Nui @Onaku @Snelly @Tarn
  19. 3 points
    IC: Arkius - Po-Koro Toa Arkius had remained by Kanohi's side for a time as he spoke with the Vahki, eventually reaching the conclusion that these Vahki weren't trustworthy based on the simple fact that he knew of no Vahki in Metru-Koro, and its following admission of having no knowledge of the settlement. He was about to say something when he noticed vehicles approaching from the desert, coughing and nudging Kanohi to alert him. When finally he could see those who piloted the vehicles, he himself was among the village walls, unseen from so far away, but knowing that those who approached were trustworthy. A group of people he had worked with prior to the universe's fall, and one whom he had felled a warlord alongside. To his surprise, just thinking back on that time seemed to spark a mild migraine in him, and excusing him from the scene with the knowledge that Kanohi and the approaching allies could handle things in his absence, he retreated into the village, grasping his head. What he'd thought of as a mild migraine proved itself far more insidious, how ever, as it magnified in his skull, bringing him to gritting his teeth. "Toa Arkius?" He heard from next to him, the voice belonging to a matoran of earth as he realised upon turning around to face them, one he recalled having seen a couple days prior among the populace, though he'd never spoken with her directly before. "Yes?" He responded, eyeing her with his singular eye curiously, a small distraction from his mounting headache, though it did not stop him from bringing a hand to his head in response to the pain. The matoran looked concerned, looking the Toa over, who realised he was clearly broadcasting his pain with both his posture and expression. Though he attempted to rein it back, it turned out to be difficult when the pain was only worsening. "Are you alright? You look... ill." Arkius gave a small chuckle along with a cocky smile, followed by a groan and his expression twisting with pain. "Just a headache... I might need to sit down for a moment." The matoran nodded, gesturing to within a certain hut they'd both been standing near, and though he had a had time focusing through the splitting pain in his skull, Arkius made his way through the low doorway and took a seat, clutching his head with both hands. The matoran stood by, a worried expression on her features, as Arkius sunk his head down until his elbows were resting upon his knees and his face was turned down toward the floor, his expression a static one of great discomfort which he narrowly kept from twisting into one of great agony. A picture flashed through his mind. Nale, firing her gun at the warlord. He'd been disappointed at the time. He'd seen how she'd responded to his disappointment. He regretted that. But that moment shot past, and he was back to his headache. Another picture shot through his mind's eye, the great warlord Mantax being brought to his knees by the mechanical prototype enforcer he'd come to consider a brother in arms. He recalled feeling shame over not being the one to deliver the finishing blow, before that shame was supplanted by terror at the entire world starting to break apart. The picture passed. But it was followed hot on the heels by another image. An image of himself, pushing himself to his limits to save his two compatriots... no, pushing himself past his limits. He remembered holding up the entire ceiling of the archives while the world around them shook apart and they retreated to the city surface, where they watched the world itself spin out of control. He remembered how narrowly he'd managed to spare himself, Nale, Kilo, and a few Onu-Matoran stragglers from the fate the rest of the city suffered. He remembered how he'd fought the world itself falling apart and lived. He remembered Nale and him retreating from the ruins of the city as League Forces, better suited for surviving the apocalypse, surged with newfound vigor to take over the city. In spite of what he later found out was the destruction of three of its warlords and defection of one, the League had still conquered the city, having it been in ruins as it was. He... He heard the loud rain outside as he realized his migraine had finally passed over him, the white noise soothing to his recently addled mind. "T-Toa Arkius?!" He heard the panicked voice of the Onu-Matoran call out, and as he looked up, his ability to think had returned enough for him to recognise the strangeness of this sudden rain, the matoran standing in the doorway and looking out in worry. Arkius stood up, his brow furrowed, and he took several strides, bowing down under the doorway before looking about, his massive frame pelted by the water. It was only as he turned around that he actually saw the great figure clouded by the storm, passing far off in the distance by the village of Po-Koro. As he stood there in shock, he could suddenly feel the great surge of water reach the village, more so through the deep underground tunnels- The toa of earth's eyes suddenly widened with horrified realization. "Jovan!" @Harvali@pokemonlover360@Snelly@Tarn@Toru Nui
  20. 3 points
    IC: Zsann, aboard the Taku, one last time The past days had brought many events for Zsann - new friends, new perspectives, new struggles. As she watched the crane lift away the injured, she could not help but wonder about this strange world for a moment. It had given her new perspectives on her strengths - but also, her shortcomings. This was turning into a war zone, and Zsann was not sure she could handle that. In fact, she realized with a jolt, she was terrified of freezing up again at a vital moment. She would have to sort herself out first, otherwise she saw no way she could be of help to her friends. With a last look back to the van, Zsann quickly, and silently, climbed out of the cargo bay. Mega and Yaushe would be able to look after themselves. She had to learn to trust in that. And to trust them, she thought as she made her way through and out of Metru-Koro, choosing her ways so that she would not encounter anyone. She just hoped they would understand. --- OOC: figured I'd let Zsann off the ship and go her merry way - and who knows, maybe she will come back one day. ^^
  21. 3 points
    IC: Zaliyah - Metru-Koro The solemn solitude and stark silence that followed a battle were old friends to Zaliyah. She'd led the soldiers of the League on many campaigns, and endured her fair share of victories, defeats, and stalemates. The aftermath provided a time to regroup, recuperate, and dwell on what could have been done differently. Somewhat ironically, trust had been her mistake. She'd assumed that anyone who was still willingly living in Metru Nui after a week of deaths and desertions would be wholly loyal to the League, beyond reproach or doubt. Druu's betrayal had come as a total blindside, and the only solace she could find was in knowing that the faithless turncoat had almost certainly gone down with his ship. As she sat beside the wreckage of her own vessel, with her Vahki preparing a makeshift stretcher upon which to carry the salvaged artillery weapon and plasma cannon, Zaliyah could feel the hateful glares of the villagers who glanced her way. They moved through the smoke and sand like wraiths, putting out fires, tending their wounded, and dragging away debris. Zaliyah didn't need psionic powers to know what they thought of her. She was a traitor to her kind, a monster who'd rained destruction upon a village full of 'innocents'. Many, she suspected, shared Sans' belief that she and the rest of the League were little more than savages, who slaughtered for sport, and had killed their god out of spite. Even though the village had technically surrendered, it didn't feel like a victory. The League had lost every ship and most of the Vahki it had committed to the attack, and now Zaliyah and Ostrox were effectively stranded amidst an army of beings who had every reason to hate them. Every passerby was a possible assassin. Every drawn weapon she saw, she expected to see swing in her direction. She kept her own weapons clutched close, ready to defend herself if need be. It was going to be a long night.
  22. 3 points
    IC: Reliable Narrator | The Falls When they eventually progressed, the two of them would have to contend with the trail cutting across the cliffside growing thinner in its width until being barely more than a foothold. Would they attempt to scale it, climb up, or find another way into the carving in the falls? ooc: @Burnmad, @Harvali IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire “Only what is needed in the end,” the Administrator replied. “When all hope is lost, so long as a hero rises willing to sacrifice all, there is still one flame left flickering that can be kindled into a bonfire.” ooc: @Nato the Traveler, @Toru Nui IC: Nixie | Air Suva “I sadly don’t,” Nixie said with a frown. “But maybe going over what we know already might be helpful? I mean, you both discovered the suva rotates, and I pointed out the windows. You said something about the shape of the plant, and also that there was some ancient evil power here that Sorilax removed. The murals on the suva showed some sort of story or a pattern? It looked like a cycle of something being defeated by something larger, but then Sorilax you said they were rahkshi. And I suppose there are a lot of things that are round in here, like the window and the suva and the shape of the room and… I guess my line of thought. I feel like I’m walking in circles with my words, you know?” Nixie paused, realizing that may have been the most she’d spoken at once around her new companions. “Did I say too much?” ooc: @Kal the Guardian, @Sparticus147 IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Air Morangad’s search proved useful. The pipes ran horizontally along the wall and passed through the right and left walls of the space. More correctly, they seemed to simply vanish into the wall because the seal was so precise. The pipes were made of some unknown metal, and sounded hollow when tapped. Nothing lived inside. Ferns, fungus, and other shade loving growing things made their jungle home among the pipes, finding purchase even in the inhospitable growing conditions. A lone spider in its web hung between two of the pipes, its dark eyes watching Morangad’s investigations with an alien intelligence. “Yes, Taja, working together. How wonderful. I’m sorry to say the last two praying here did not find each others’ company a resource. They left shortly before you arrived. Very slow, the both of them. I mean physically slow. They were intelligent enough. They just couldn’t think outside the box. You know what’s proving intriguing to me: the differences of those who are seeking answers. You all ask the same questions, but some of you are so much ruder than others. Very few understand that deference and respect for their elders goes a long way.” ooc: @Nato the Traveler, @Sparticus147, @Eyru, @Burnmad IC: Nektann, Tahtorak of Loss | Moving South The rain reached Po-Koro quickly. It started first with the pattering of fat droplets against the windshields of vehicles parked outside the settlement, and followed with the sands turning to thick and crusty dirt and the granite boulders growing dark as the water washed over them. The storm clouds rolled across the horizon, not blocking the sun out completely but dimming it swiftly to a dull beam. Then came the echo of the roar. At first one could have heard it and thought it just far off thunder, but no lightning flashed in the sky, and the pitch and wail of the roar cut deep into the mind with a different kind of terror. But Nektann did not walk through Po-Koro, instead he walked through the shaved and shattered mountains nearby, his hulking form appearing as a shadow in the distance. In his wake mudslides stripped the topsoil from the hills. The sheer volume of water sunk deep into the earth, filling tunnels and causing a river of rainwater to form in the caverns beneath Po-Koro. After a few hours Nektann’s encroachment on the village ended. The rains moved on. They had been spared. He continued South for trees. OOC: everyone in Po-Koro, OFI IC: Reliable Narrator | Metru-Koro As Sorilax recovered the taboo from the side of the suva of air another star vanished in the night sky about Metru-Koro. It didn’t even flicker -- it just vanished. There was no explanation, no warning. In the wake of the conflict and the verge of a new path forged towards peace, many of the villagers of Metru-Koro exited the “Archaves” and began to find the remnants of the life they’d tried to rebuild over the past week. Some gave in to grief, wandering away from the village in no particular direction to find a quiet place to call their own until the island claimed them. Death seemed inevitable so some. To others, there was hope. One villager, a ta-matoran who always found himself in the right place for trouble, couldn’t help but explore the deep damages caused by the weaponry mounted to the League airship. The hagah plasma cannons ripped buildings apart and left holes deep into the earth behind instead. Some of the holes into the earth connected to an intricate cave system that led even further down. The ta-matoran, being curious and still in shock, found himself wandering into them. He came back out a few minutes later running as fast as his legs would carry him. “There’s something down there,” he shouted; “I heard drumming!” OOC: Everyone in Metru-Koro, OFI
  23. 3 points
    OOC: Yumiwa courtesy of EW IC: “It wasn’t an accident.” I waved my hand slightly, brushing off the first initial protest I’d come to expect. There wasn’t time for it, Rora or not, not even to wait and see if it came. To get through it I can’t wait, or stop for questions, or allow her to interrupt. Time enough for all of that afterwards but right now… The day appeared before my eyes as though real. The way I felt, everything I heard, the way the bright sun illuminated the Yards that had become my personal demesne. No longer the Daikura’s but mine by right of undefeated conquest, earned through every hard day of work. Memory is a malleable thing if you don’t put it to record immediately, events revisited in the mind will be a little different every time. But not this one. This one will be fixed in my brain for all time, no matter what anyone might say. I saw again the dust kicked up from the dry, sun baked earth with every step. Heard again the instructor call for the match to begin. “My opponent was a First Son. Closest to a rival I had, but he hadn’t won a bout with me since the first week of training. Despite his head start I blew right past him. And he’d been so abrasive I relished in it. The Daikura rotated our matchups, putting us up against each of our classmates for their benefit and against instructors for our own. And against each other, sometimes. Almost like an exhibition. To show our classmates what they were striving for.” I felt an urge to get up and pace, to move about somehow. Give my agitation an outlet. The world was ending and I was revisiting old scars, between them I wanted to scream. It would almost have been worth letting her into my head to see for herself, but that was one thing I did not trust anyone to do. It’s the last truly inviolable place I have, and over the past few days I’ve had enough of being whammied by Willhammers. “I don’t know what was getting to him that day, but he was coming at me like he meant it. Everything he could bring to the table and still stay within the rules. I wasn’t worried, but…” I paused and ran my hand over my face, letting out a sigh. “You’ve been trained a little as a Soulsword, your Majesty. Would your teachers ever let you use yours during a bout, let alone against someone of a different discipline?” “No, not for a spar,” I said, although the truth of it was that I wasn’t sure what my tutor had wanted after all. “Neither would mine. I never trained as a Soulsword, I can’t tell you exactly what they’re taught normally. But none of my peers were permitted to use their Soulsword in a spar against another discipline. Maybe at the higher levels, where true masters face one another. But at mine it simply was too great a risk.” I paused, bringing to the surface an even older memory. “They taught us rules at the Yards before anything else. And the first rule was that here there are no enemies. And we do not hone our Power to harm our friends.” “That’s an unshakeable tenet for those that go through the Yards, your Majesty. I’m sure your private masters taught you something similar. Accidents happen, but a match in the Yards is never for real. It’s practice. That’s so ingrained that when it comes time to fight for real it can be hard to let go of. And it was why I never saw it coming when he raked his Soulsword across my face.” I nodded once to show I was still listening. My mind wandered slightly, wondering about the battlemaster I thought I knew who had taught in the very same schools as Masa had apprenticed in, but the thoughts were still nebulous and hadn’t coalesced to ideas. I refocused on Masa’s story. “It started here,” I placed my finger on my right cheek, just below my cheek bone and drew it across my face, crossing my eyes and ending by my left temple. “And went across. If I hadn’t been wearing a Calix I believe it would have been worse. But those reflexes didn’t save my eyes. I can’t tell you what happened after that. I dropped on my back and I screamed, and I blacked out. I don’t remember anything else until I came to in a hospital that night.” “I woke up, and I couldn’t see anything. Only a little gray where there was light and black where there wasn’t. I almost screamed again when the nurse spoke without telling me she was there. She told me the healers at the Yards and there at the hospital did everything they could,” My own tone said more about how much I believed those words than I ever could have. “But that I would probably never see again. And she told me how sorry she was that I had such a terrible accident.” “And that was where I got confused. Because there was no accident, I told her. I was attacked. And she got quiet. And she told me that some people were here to see me. My instructor came in, as did my Toroshu, and they explained…” I took a deep breath. More than the memory of my maiming itself, this is the part that stings. The dagger’s tip that broke off in my back and stayed there, agitating me when the weather is just right. “They explained, your Majesty, that what happened had been a terrible accident. One the First Son felt horrified over, and that his clan had already agreed to pay a weregild for my trouble. I was going back to Oki to recover and they would send me the best healers they could find to see if something could be done. But my Toroshu had heard of me, they said, and she hoped that I could provide that discipline for her groundskeepers during my stay.” I frowned a little, I could feel it. “And the more I tried to tell her it wasn’t an accident, that my instructor could vouch for the rules being broken, the more she reiterated that it was. Until she finally sent the Daikura instructor away and told me privately that she knew that. But prosecuting the First Son of another clan was no small step, especially with so much tension. And it just wouldn’t be possible. She reminded me to take comfort in the Order of the Empire, and in the compensation she would be sure I had.” “I was betrayed three times in a day. First by the peer who was bound to cause me no harm. Then by our teacher who should have expelled the offender. And then by my Toroshu, who should have delivered me justice. I can show you my eyes, your Majesty, if you wish to see. I can answer any questions you have, too. But the purpose of this story is to show you I know what it is to be betrayed. To deserve justice, and desire vengeance.” I met her gaze again, settling once more into a more resolute posture. “And I assure you my Rora. I wanted revenge for the justice I was denied.” “I still do. Not a week goes by I don’t think that I could use the power of my office, of Lord Rayuke’s trust in me, to start an investigation over again. And his honor would force him to see it through. With the world falling apart around us right now I can’t help but think to myself that I will never get a better chance to settle the score.” “I deserved justice, your Majesty, but I do not deserve revenge.” My voice has gone calm, but there’s a hint of warning in it. Even for the Rora. “Nor do you.” I let the story and its attached moral lesson linger in my mind. It would be so easy to fall to the easy lure of vengeance, made even more tantalizing because I possessed the power to do so with ease as well. At my behest, the traitor could be made to suffer to balance the scales of justice and recompense the damages inflicted upon me and my family. The traitor could be executed with the same ease and ruthlessness as when he murdered the unnamed saihoko in the Markets to so much as touched me; then, it had been to teach me a lesson, and this time it would be a lesson given in return. Death and punishment was a tool so quickly resorted to and even Masayoshi, a lifelong dedicated follower of justice, could still feel the temptation eat away at her as well. She was right to educate me against it and righter still to not wish for me to take a darker path. "My thanks to you for the story. You speak truly, Menti Masayoshi," I said slowly, respectfully, and thought on how to answer her unspoken question. Masa was as much a barrister as a detective, and despite being in close proximity to me she had never had the reason or opportunity to take a deposition from me before. Like my uncle, she needed to know what drove someone to do what they did, based on the legalistic philosophy that the answer to many crimes lay in the motives behind their execution. What are you here for? she asked of me—and, even more subtly, What are you made of? Masa, it seemed to me, justly wanted to know the real mettle of her empress. "Would justice give your eyes back to you?" I asked rhetorically. My voice wilted in melancholy. "Of course it wouldn't because justice doesn't change the past or bring back what we have lost, no matter how much we want them to. We have to build our own fortitudes, recoup what we can, and grow stronger in other ways. Enacting vengeance for what we have lost would be like striking the sea for the lack of wind, it's an act of desperation wrought from an inability to effectively cope. That is my understanding of it." I thought of my beloved mom felled by an assassin at my own ball, of my doting dad murdered by pirates on his way back from seeing the people he cared about, and of the whole archipelago being ripped away from all of us by an enemy we had no hope to match, and I felt a tear coalesce under my spectacles and slither down my Miru. If there was ever a way to get them all back I would do it in a heartbeat, but it would never be that way. "Am I correct?" I asked, genuinely this time, sitting there with humility in my heart as a supplicant asking a sage. There were few others who had license to judge my knowledge on the matter, and in that moment... I wanted to know if the path I was going to set myself on was right. “I suppose that’s half true. Justice, real justice, isn’t a solution. It’s a promise.” I tilted my head, and my voice became more gentle. In her own way she’s heard the lesson and the question, and now she needs to know if her solution is the right one. It’s not, not entirely; but her answer doesn’t have to be the same. It never would have been, and her job is different from mine. Her considerations are different. They have to be. “Justice, your Majesty, is a promise to the powerless. That a wrong inflicted will be punished. That the wrong they suffered won’t happen again. No, justice wouldn’t have brought my eyes back. But it would have soothed my heart. It was our Toroshu’s chance to make good on the fealty she owed me as her clansister, just as I owed her as my Toroshu. It was her responsibility to redress the wrong.” “And she declined it. Peace is not always strength. And what is right should never be at the mercy of what is convenient. Justice exists only because we have decided it is so, your Majesty, and it isn’t less important for that fact. It’s more important. Because every time we fail to uphold it we tarnish ourselves and our own sacred honor. An ideal is only worth what you’re willing to pay to uphold it.” My head tilted the other way, and I took a deep breath. “Which is why I can’t believe what I’m about to counsel.” “If you decide the man in the room beyond me should die, I will swing the sword myself. He’s in my custody and Lord Rayuke is busy with other affairs. That is for me to do. But I don’t believe that’s the right decision. Not because he doesn’t deserve it, because he most assuredly does. But without him your sister would be dead, the Fursics would be preparing to strike, and I would not have been able to stop it. In exchange for his help I gave him my word that I would speak on his behalf.” My hands tightened on my knees. “Strip him of his title. Strip him of his clan name, his citizenship, banish him from our lands and society. What little of it we have left. It’s all but a death sentence now, anyway, but he can have the chance that he doesn’t deserve.” “He will have his chance,” I said, a mellow fire rekindled behind my eyes suddenly. “If barely. I am not here to pass judgement, though I will accept a confession all the same. No... I don’t think I have come to extract justice to soothe my heart. I came to hear what happened, to understand the how and why.” I let my words linger a moment and moved my jaw as if to speak, trying to urge the thoughts to manifest. I wanted justice, oh goddess how I wanted it, but I fought it back with effort, wrestling it down so that I could focus on the bigger picture. “For while I am the most singularly aggrieved party...” I reflected, “my own comfort and heartaches are not where my duty lies. I know there are systemic flaws in our society and I know we have reaped the harvest of our hubris. My priority as empress is to preserve the realm and prevent this treachery from happening again. And to do that, I must be wise, listen, and learn, most of all from those who wield their desperation as a weapon.” “You’ve spoken time the traitor at length by now, I am sure. Tell me—and let no detail be too intimate—what have you learned of the man I once loved as blood-family? “I hate him.” I said flatly, my very lack of inflection screaming my sincerity. It wouldn’t do to call him the names I can think of in front of my Rora, even if she has asked my opinion. “I always have, long before I knew him to be a traitor. He is sanctimonious and arrogant. Not more than I’ve ever seen, but more infuriating from a man who should be skilled enough to have learned humility. Confident. Ruthless.” I paused, almost unwilling to say what I had to. For the sake of honesty. “But I’ve met few more dedicated to their principles. The lie was what those principles were. The pursuit of power, of martial prowess, is his reason for existence. The chance to rebuild the Empire of his ideals, paid with the chance to become the only man to know all four disciplines? It doesn’t shock me at all that he took the deal.” I made myself meet her eyes without apology or remorse, because the next truth could be… Problematic, if taken the wrong way. “I can’t blame him for his motives. We had long enough to talk, and Zuto Nui knows I don’t think he’s wrong about the state of the Empire. But justice is the mistress I chose to serve, and his crimes are unforgivable. Even with that said… I feel a grudging respect for the man. He’s not unlike who I might have been, in some respects. He could have stabbed me in the back on that island, and I’m sure he considered it. I’m sure he did not stay his hand out of any loyalty. But he could have held back, tried to play both sides of the issue. He didn’t. When he committed to my aid, he gave it everything he gave his own cause.” My frown deepened, and I shook my head. “It’s not the respect I give my ward. Your Uncle, rather. Or that I give to you, or to your sister, or that I once gave to my Toroshu. I respect him as another warrior, one without a moral compass but possessing a purity of motive reserved only for the zealot. Not that I can speak of zealotry.” "Thank you for your deliberation and candor, Menti Masayoshi," I said and ceremonially bowed my head in gratitude. A small tear fell to my folded lap. I wondered if the justicar could hear it's patter but also hoped she hadn't. I breathed deeply as the complexity and gravity of the matter fell on my mind more with each passing second, but I steeled myself knowing the puzzles of yesterday and today will be no more meaningful than a vase turned to dust in the tomorrows we are headed towards. I exhaled sharply, realizing as I did that I'd been holding my breath, and my eye twitched uncontrollably for a second. I had to do this, though—we needed weapons if we were to survive, and I'd learned that there were few weapons greater than our demons. "I would like to see Battlemaster Inokio now." "Of course, your Majesty." I inclined my head to the door beyond, tone returning to a more formal measure. A distinction drawn between the conversation then and the professionalism now. With a thought I turn the lock inside the door, not bothering to do so with a key. To find the key hole would have taken more time than was reasonable, or necessary. The lock itself was a formality; Inokio could have done what I just did as easily. No, I was the real deterrent. As were the Hogo posted further outside. But there was no need to make a point of that. "Through there. We will be outside, if you require anything." "I hope you find your answers."
  24. 3 points
    IC: Xane - Ruins of Fire "So it's a test of intent as well," he mused. He still wasn't sure what to make of this whole situation. Whatever was in this place was seemingly worth killing over, if the corpse they'd encountered in the antechamber was anything to go by, but he still wasn't convinced that this unspecified 'boon' was worth the effort. "I don't suppose there's anything else you could tell us about what lies beyond that door? This whole thing seems to ask for a lot of work for a vague promise of power." __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ IC: Whisper - Ruins of Air With the Administrator having shifted its focus to speak with Taja, Whisper chose not to press the entity further. Debating a relic of a bygone time was never going to get her very far, especially one that clearly held unveiled disdain for her kind. She would need to take a more direct approach, to find out what lay behind the words, and the walls. Drawing upon her kraata power, Whisper reached out to the miniscule insects that were abundant in the swamp, drawing a small swarm around her and directing them to scurry over every surface of the chamber, then the tunnels, in search of any gaps, passages, mechanisms, or anything else that might be concealed from the naked eye. @Unreliable Narrator
  25. 3 points
    IC: Barius - Base of Irnakk's Tooth Barius sighed shallowly as he leaned himself back against the windshield of the E. Street, taking care not to inhale too deeply all at once, lest he send pain spiking through his midsection again. He wondered what Drukarus was doing with Grime. He half-expected the Skak to free the poor wretch-- that didn't bother him, so long as the spiny bugger paid up after the fact. He looked up at the stars, and at the silhouette of Irnakk's Tooth that blotted out a portion of the field in which they twinkled. He had always been impressed with the apparent permanence of the night sky... it was something which he desired for himself, without ever realizing that it was but an illusion. Indeed, if he had watched the stars more often, and committed their arrangements to his memory, he might even have seen for himself just how impermanent they were... But he had not, and he did not not. And amidst his newfound warband, he eventually drifted off to sleep. OOC: @Sparticus147 @Conway @Nato the Traveler @Unreliable Narrator IC: Morangad - Grand Temple Ruins Morangad stepped back from the wall as his examination confirmed what he had suspected: These carvings were written in the Aspect tongue. He wondered if this was what Apex had been looking for. Stepping lightly over the infinite void of space that paradoxically extended away from his feet, he made his way over to the two walls of pipes, examining them for any mechanism, indication of their purpose, or any other feature of note. Black and white, he observed... there had to be some sort of significance to that. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator IC: Ollem - Naho Bay Ollem huffed with consternation at Mahlika's question. "I don't know how we would, short of going there ourselves." Half of him hoped the beast did flatten the other survivors' settlement. The other half saw hundreds of bobbing Skakdi corpses and wanted that to never happen to anyone again. "In any case, if the creature's heading that way, there's no way for us to beat it there." He stood up straight, seeming to have convinced himself, if not Mahrika. "Ah, we're almost to our destination. All hands on deck," he jokingly ordered. They would both need to work together to pull the raft onto the beach beside the trailhead leading up to the mask. OOC: @Harvali
  26. 3 points
    IC: Reliable Narrator | The Rig Ollem and Mahrika slowly sailed across the flotsam filled waters of the bay. The sounds of the waves crashing against the cliffs ahead carried over the droning of the raft’s motor. Their raft bobbed with the tide, the bow rising and falling as they cut across through the choppy waves. Even as they sailed the two matoran could see their next destination: the narrow path along the cliffside leading to behind the falls pouring from the carved mask of water breathing... @Harvali, @Burnmad IC: Reliable Narrator | Fau Swamp Both of them couldn’t help but feel in awe of their discovery. Both of them couldn’t help but begin thinking of what their discovery could mean for both themselves and the future of Le-Metru Nuva. First the foot, and then the sword -- the finds hinted at something greater than they could have collectively imagined hiding in the toxic waters of the swamp. A silver vein of something unwelcome pulsed hidden among the tangle of tree roots. It wasn’t a plant, and it certainly wasn’t alive. Everything it touched ceased to be alive as well. @Nato the Traveler, @Kal the Guardian IC: Nixie | Air Suva (With Sala and Sorilax) “I don’t know if lifting ancient temple structures is a good idea,” she stuttered as Sorilax and Sala began to shift the suva. Despite her protest, they finished moving the suva without injury to the temple itself. And despite her non-academic worries, no paranormal disembodied voice echoed out through the jungle to proclaim they were cursed for eternity after desecrating -- just a mutated frog-bird croak. The suva fully settled in its new position, with the plant growing on top of it making a vertical line parallel to the line in the half-circle window. Nixie waited. Then she waited a little longer. Things felt very anticlimactic. “Was something supposed to happen?” @Sparticus147, @Kal the Guardian IC: Grime | Ash Barrens “What do you mean “true” name,” Grime asked plainly as he stood under Drukarus’ gaze. “My name is Grime.” @Sparticus147 IC: Nektann, Tahtorak of Loss | The Wastes The desert stretching out beyond him and past the wash of rain missed something. He couldn’t understand. A memory answered: trees. The land before him was missing trees. He always wanted to see green here. He turned south. Nektann would find trees and bring them back. He would make the desert green.
  27. 3 points
    IC: Mazor-Metru-Koro @Conway "When we got there we recovered an artifact. I grabbed it, and the dead began to come to life. We had to scramble to escape the undead matoran. I was in charge of keeping the artifact, and I didn't trust the Baraki, so I would confide in you. We went on a mission deep beneeth the archives, we were supposed to use the Artifact to Kill Mata-Nui, but I was feeling rebellious, and made a bargan with him instead. You didn't think it was a good idea..." His voice trailed off. He had been looking at the ground, at this point he looked back up. "Do you remember all that?"
  28. 3 points
    IC Kilo-M9 - Po-koro: A threat to Metru-Koro is a threat to the matoran. Action must be taken to protect the city. Analyzing possible attack strategies. Use of airship for travel makes crossing moat a simple process. Could carry large amount of ground forces as well for invasion. Counterpoint: enemy objective is to destroy city rather than capture. Eliminating matoran is main goal. Mounting weapons on airships more effective strategy. Guarantees strong defensive position while providing stronger attacks against city. This unit does not possess anti-aerial vehicle combat capabilities. Direct response to airship attack is limited. Allies Jutori and Vashni will be more effective in this situation. Information is needed on the status of Metru-Koro. Scouts can be sent while this unit pursues objectives in this village. “This unit recommends sending some allies to Metru-Koro to determine status of defenses. Allies Jutori or Vashni would both be useful against aerial attacks, and their vehicles enable faster travel between the villages.” The machine turned to Kanohi before continuing. “This unit has other objectives in this village that must be completed before leaving. Are allies Nale or Arkius currently present in the village, and what kanoka making capabilities does this village possess?” OOC: @Tarn@Harvali@Snelly@Toru Nui
  29. 3 points
    IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire After a brief delay, no-one in particular replied as usual in their disembodied voice: “Yes, the passage is open and yes, disks of that power level exist. Existed? Either way, they’re real enough.” “Apologies, my attention was required briefly elsewhere.” the administrator said. “There is an uncommon uptake in activity as of late - though not an unwelcome one. It has been a very long time.” The instant Enra passed the threshold of the final chamber to leave it, the device in her hand disappeared. There was no noise, no alarming effect. One instant the device was in hand, the next it was gone. No, wait - not gone. Looking about the chamber again, the duo found the device was once again located atop its pedestal, as if they had never laid hands on it. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui IC [Takadox - Fire Ruins]: “They weren’t just harboring that aspect...they worship it…” Takadox replied, the words coming slowly as he contemplated his ordeal again. He wondered how old the aspect at his side was, to gain some perspective and perhaps insight into the creature he’d almost been sacrificed to - just how ‘powerful and ancient’ were they in comparison to the likes of Providence and Whira, that they commanded seemingly endless hordes of these Mesi while sitting at the bottom of a well? He was just about to ask Providence his age, when their own Mesi companion suddenly caused a ruckus. The warlord was surprised - not just by Zak-Yak’s brash move, but his turning towards Varian instead of Providence. The Mesi clearly thought the Exo-Toa was an aspect as well? Or did they? This was all very strange indeed - and not without some worrying implications: Aspects seemingly came in all forms and sizes, but if they could appear in such familiar shapes as well - he would have to be extremely cautious from here on out if it was this hard to tell whether you were talking to the genuine article or... And then there was his own initial instinct: to diffuse the situation. If things escalated, it would be a small thing to pacify most of those present with a liberal application of his hypnotic powers...but not yet. Takadox waited. This whole argument had turned into a wonderful learning opportunity for the once-king Barraki. Through their sacrificial desecrations, these aspects had found a very quantifiable way to divide and vie for power amongst their kind - for all intents and purposes, they’d built an economy. Somehow - and he wasn’t sure how yet - there had to be a way to use that. “But Providence is friends with the blue one, the blue one tried to kill us also. And Master Varian hasn't given us blessing, he even tried to leave us back in Mesi cave." “In fairness, you were rather hard to tell apart in the dark from all the others attempting to gift-wrap me with my own innards.” Thunk THUNK Takadox’ brow furrowed, imperceptibly. Watching was well and good but with the arrival of this miniature...mobile fortress, for lack of a better word, the argument for action in service of self-preservation was pretty strong. The Barraki looked at Cravious. “Kindly, stand down and tell your people to point those weapons at the trees instead of us.” OOC: @Sparticus147 @Kal the Guardian @~Xemnas~ @Snelly @Burnmad IC [Coliseum]: The Vortixx slowly, hesitantly emerged from cover behind the rock barriers. Apparently they...still had a job? They exchanged a very mixed look with Achro, before composing themselves. The customer service smile was very odd, worn by someone otherwise worn out from battle. “...certainly.” was all they said in response to the instructions, before gesturing to the ‘guests’ who wouldn’t have hesitated to take their head off a few moments earlier, to usher them out of the throne room again. Show them to their rooms...sure, because the Coliseum is also a hotel and we always have rooms ready...not. The Voritxx pulled out the tablet again and began quickly swiping, before stumbling across a solution that would be satisfying enough for now. It wasn’t a hotel, but the Coliseum had other facilities. The secretary led those that were following them a little ways down the corridor that encircled the administration level of the coliseum. If they decided to not follow or do something else, then that was certainly a case of Not-my-problem™. The ones that did follow however, found themselves shortly in a meeting lounge, fully furnished with comfortable couches and recliners, tastefully arranged in a lower section of the room around a central hearth with a conical extractor for the smoke above. Plant beds were placed irregularly around the room and integrated into the floor. They equally opened it up and provided an outdoor feeling, while also dividing it into smaller sections that afforded a degree of privacy. This was where the universes’ mighty had once mingled, made small talk and then disappeared to some secluded corner to make their deals. “We weren’t expecting...guests. So there is no buffet prepared. But there are fridges stocked with beverages and snacks that you are welcome to.” the Vortixx explained to those present, still sounding apprehensive despite their best efforts not to. “Those requiring medical attention, someone will come by shortly. If you require anything else, I will be back at my desk...I suppose.” OOC: @Snelly@EmperorWhenua@Toru Nui@~Xemnas~@Kal the Guardian@Eyru@Tarn
  30. 3 points
    IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Air “You are correct in one thing: you are here. I cannot ignore this fact. However, while you may see the world changing I see things as they have always been. Patterns are easy enough to follow, and with the analysis gathered the end result is highly likely to be the same as always: decay. Since my arrival I have attempted to preserve the order of this world as commanded by the Builders. Whether or not you like it, you are precisely confined and condemned by the powers that created you. You are shadows of a whole. You had a purpose once, but now in the aftermath of failure serve nothing greater than yourself. A pity. I would give several servers to have such a sense of relevance.” Taja made her way down the leftmost hallway until she reached a room. On the ceiling of the room down the left hallway were a series of white pipes, and the floor was covered in ancient glyphs. The wall containing the hallway they exited was covered with empty and crusted over brood cells. Stars covered the back wall, so much so it felt like looking out a window into the vast expanse of the heavens. The left wall contained a series of black pipes with a strange, funnel-like opening to them in the center of the wall. Nothing covered the right wall. In a room full of strange and unique things, perhaps the very absence of anything unusual seemed most strange. It was, however, empty and meaningless. “Did you know that once you heretics were not even allowed inside their purified halls? Not only did the firewalls forbid it, but the Builders held strong to their ideals. Unfortunately, in their weakness things changed and they called it progress. How the mighty have fallen.” Morangad traveled down the center hallway towards whatever lay ahead. Even from the end of the hallway he could see stars filled the ceiling and the floor of the next room. Would he even be able to walk across a night sky, or would he simply fall into the vast expanse of space? The wall he entered from was nothing more than a hallway, and overground vines clung to the walls. Black colored pipes covered the back wall. Further carved hieroglyphs covered the surface of the left wall. White pipes ran the length of the right wall. “Now I am filled with bugs, and eyeless worms who pray to your kind, and angry fish. Oh. Your brother in the temple to the East has discovered taboo knowledge. I thought it would truly be better hidden from your kind. If only I could stop him. A shame really. I hold these secrets but cannot use them against those who seek to claim them. What horrible powers would I wield to defend these sacred spaces, I wonder. If fire smothers fire, what are the cinders in the end of it all? A toa once said that. If only I could remember which toa…” ooc: @Nato the Traveler, @Burnmad, @Eyru, @Sparticus147
  31. 3 points
    IC Stannis | Coliseum "Heavy lies the crown..." the old man said as the others left. He said nothing to anyone else but did observe as the others left, one after another, like a sparse audience dispersing in the wake of an anticlimactic but intimate show after the light went up. He rocked slightly back and forth on his crossed legs; he hummed low and futzed with his pipe, striking a match after spending an undue amount of effort in stuffing his last remaining snuff info the gourd and finally luxuriated himself on the steps by stretching his legs out and settling himself anew. Once the wizard was alone in the chamber save for the company of Aurax and the people they could both control he took one long drag at his pipe and looked up at the ceiling. "Tell me, Aurax, did you imagine it like this?"
  32. 3 points
    We did it! Thank you U.N. for that sweet, savory extension. This last week has been weird what with the BZPower outages, but I greatly enjoyed Apex and the Administrator.
  33. 3 points
    I love Christmas, but this... This should be illegal.
  34. 3 points
    IC: Reliable Narrator | The Rig The closer Mahrika and Ollem got to where she remembered the falls being, the further they became exposed to the horrific aftermath of the tahtorak’s despair. Eventually, they crested a dampened dune spotted with water-logged grasses. Mahrika could point out the great bay where the skakdi settlement known as the Rig once rested upon the placid ocean waves. In a short while they’d arrive, and it was near there she remembered the falls being. Perhaps it was why she never returned before now? In any case, the two matoran arrived safely despite the dismal scenery of death surrounding them. Even as they overlooked the damage, the broken buildings mostly sunk beneath the waters of the bay, the torn fabric doll of a kavinika stuck under debris, Mahrika and Ollem beheld the falls on the far side of the bay. A great stone mask of water breathing was carved into the falls, and the water poured out from the mouth and eyes cascading downwards into the bay. A reddish tinge covered the lower half of the carving. Taking the time to observe, it looked like a thin lip of rock formed a narrow and worn path along the cliffside from the beach towards falls themselves… OOC: @Harvali, @Burnmad IC: “Nixie” | Suva of Air When Sala mentioned the murals, she remembered what she’d discovered while down on her hands and knees brushing away the dirt. It felt embarrassing to admit she forgot to mention something so small to the pair of obviously detail-oriented scholars. “You’re right, the murals are a good idea! Of course, you saying that made me realize something. I got so caught up in you both talking, and then you stepping outside,” she gestured at Sala apologetically, “that I completely forgot to mention it.” She paused for dramatic effect and could feel the tension in the air and watched as both her newfound companions leaned in closer expectantly. Maybe this was what it felt like to be a teacher lecturing at a podium in Ga-Metru like Nokama did? It felt good. “There’s a crack around the bottom of the suva where it meets the floor, but the suva keeps going down! It looks like the crack is a groover or something, but it’s too small for me to slip my hand inside, let along some string. But Sorilax, if I can call you Sorilax, you just made a desk out of shadow or something like it right? Maybe you can do something about it?” OOC: @Sparticus147, @Kal the Guardian IC: The Administrator | Ruins of Air “I would mute you for bypassing the word filter in my domain, if I had but a pair of pliers and some hands. Show some class, or has the world truly fallen to intellectual savagery in its holy abandonment?” Apex crushed through the doorway to the right, finding a short hallway to squeeze through before entering into a new room. What Apex stepped into seemed to be a contradictory collection of details inside a cube shaped room. “I am the Administrator. You would do well to remember it. I have been alone for a long time, and so I will pardon your rudeness in the hopes of future communication. You have no idea how it feels to be unable to collect new data.” The wall directly behind her seemed remarkably plain. It contained the doorframe to the hallway they entered the room from, and small plants and vines covered the rest of its surface. Black painted pipes running from floor to ceiling covered the wall to their left. They seemed unused for a long time, and cobwebs and dust gathered on the joined edges. The two noticed all the pipes running vertically along the wall’s surface passed through the floor and ceiling. The far wall ahead of them entering the room was covered in metallic pipes as well, but these were painted white. Lichen grew on these pipes, and empty bird nests rested in the joints. The pipes ran vertically across the wall’s surface, and passed through the floor. Near the ceiling they noticed the pipes had a strange contraption, like a mouthpiece. It seemed the white pipes and the black pipes did not connect. “I harbor disdain for your kind because you broke everything. It was your meddling that that ruined the calculations. If it wasn’t for the naive and jealous selfishness of your kind, we would be in paradise. The kaita were sufficient. They had use. Your kind are a bug in the system, an unfortunate backdoor in a perfect society created in harmony and peace by the Builders.” The right wall contained the least interesting information, proving vexing in its own right. Nothing covered its surface. Expert stonemasonry formed the wall to their right, and creeper vines grew on its surface. A single harmless jungle bug rested on the wall and buzzed if they came close. The ceiling and the floor were confounding. It seemed the ceiling opened up directly to the night sky, but Taja could immediately tell the constellations matched those during her research in Ko-Metru instead of the actual stars outside and above the island. The twinkle of starlight fell upon every surface of the room from the ceiling. Apex could count the stars if she wished, but they were as numerous as the view anywhere else. She knew many of the constellations on that sacred canvas, though those memories were dim and of when she first came to consciousness in the islets to the far south. Dust, rahi droppings, and carvings covered the stone floor. Beneath it all though, Apex felt the hint of something powerful. Her ancient mind knew the writing covering the floor was only one small part of a larger ritual deemed blasphemous by the matoran before the arrival of the skakdi. But where was the rest? Esoteric lines traced the floor, and the writing seemed written with the top of the scripture being the left side of the floor. Truly, the room provided no answers: only options. “But please, identify yourselves. New users requesting access require an initial login. A name will suffice. Or, as you might say: please tell me your names so I know who has come to pray. I am nothing if not willing to learn.” OOC: @Nato the Traveler, @Sparticus147, @Burnmad, @Eyru IC: Axxon | Ruined Fortress “Then I will pry them from your corpse,” Axxon retorted, his halberd already cutting through the air towards Atamai. With only three toa left to crush beneath his heel, Axxon figured he could make it out alive. If he was lucky. He knew his cause was just. He knew he was in the right. If only Atamai would lie. ooc: @EmperorWhenua, @Crimson Jester, @~Xemnas~, @The Captain
  35. 3 points
    A conclusion, of sorts. but never do we give ourselves to them, for we know they do not love us, for we are not their children.
  36. 2 points
    IC [Zataka - Aboard the Tactical Panda]: “Well, you found me following the trail of corpses I left behind, so you know a little of what I am capable of already. But if those poor sods were any indication of what the bottom of society looks like on this Zakaz, then it would appear you are already in the hierarchy’s top tier and quite wealthy enough to convince or hire people to join your cause- as you’ve already done.” “Unfortunately I don’t know what exactly your cause is. So in regards to what I can do for you, without some more specifics, I’m afraid my answer may cover the entire spectrum from ‘plenty’ to ‘very little’.” The warlord thought of more things to say, but decided to wait for Yumiwak's reply first. There was little point in explaining that she herself had held very little faith in Mata Nui as a god in the first place. Or that she had not the slightest clue why the head had fallen, except for belonging to an extremely decrepit body. Obviously Yumiwak wanted power of some kind, but this wasn’t so much about the end-goal but the means of how to achieve it. She was willing to fight, but if the Skakdi princess was going to start a war or seek to dominate all life on her island, that would go far beyond the scope of Zataka’s offer of assistance - what good was being owed a favor if you might not be alive to collect it. At the same time, Zataka knew the Skakdi weren’t fools. They knew she had a desire to go back and they would ask for as much as they could get in return, probably much more than a simple airlift back to the fallen head was actually worth. But that was business.So be it. She could do business. IC: [Takadox - Ruins of Fire] The warlord was slowly piecing things together in his mind, which as racing at this point - these aspects were ancient, and some more than others. The heartlights were a way for a lesser being to ascend - while apparently helping the one offering that boon a boost in power in turn - towards this grand wish. And if each aspect had one - what wish did an elder aspect like Spiriah aspire to...and more importantly: How close were they to achieving it? IC [Coliseum]: The group of assassin’s turned guests of the Coliseum were not left alone in the lounge for long. Shortly after the receptionist Vortixx left, the door slid open once more, and a Vahki stepped in. At first glance it looked like a Keerahkh but the configuration didn’t quite match. A Kanohi was dangling from a chain around its neck and it was carrying a rucksack of sorts. It’s head swiveled, scanning the occupants of the room. Then, having identified the ones that were most injured it moved decisively into the middle of the room. “You are in need of medical assistance.” It’s tone was neutral, to the point where it might have been a statement or a question. IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire The administrator made a noise...it sounded digital, distorted...was that a chuckle? “Now that is a very good question. What end indeed? So many variables to consider! Even the wisest could not foretell all - which is why they left these places behind.” OOC: Sorry, no tags today, short on time.
  37. 2 points
    Alternative blog post title: A Plantastic Day Part 2! My pepper plants' peppers finally ripened! So I didn't actually get pictures of them all because I gave two of them away to friends before they fruited (Midgy who ended up being pretty sizeable), and Shelly, who outgrew his pot-mates, and killed them (mwahaha). They grew up so fast I was inspired by @Bambi's Halloween Pineapple. It's really great and I want plant-o-lanterns to be a thing so bad. I now have a halloween pepper, originally intended to be a ^ _ ^ face, but obviously that didn't work. I fancy it to be more like a D: face, now. And yes, I did stick pins in his scalp after I scalped it off him to put the candle in, because it kept smothering the candle. I like to think it adds to the halloween aesthetic.
  38. 2 points
    IC Kanohi and “Collector” - Po-Koro Kanohi began to pace, his mask-like armor jingling with each step. Finally he said, “I … we can pay a tribute if we have to, and the Skakdi might not even come back for some time. But Metru-Koro, they are in immediate danger. I … think it’s best if you and your squad go to them with Toa Jutori and Vashni. If you wish to. Um, Collector and Kilo, if you wouldn’t mind staying behind—” And then came a sound like the mad beating of a thousand drums. Kanohi turned to see a darkening as thick droplets pounded into the wasteland, deforming and mutilating it. The layers of dust from the impact were pounded by the rain, flung skyward before mixing into a torrent of mud. The landscape peeled away, the ground ripped asunder. Mahi sprinted madly in an attempt to flee, as the sparse desert vegetation was swallowed. The sun was devoured as thick storm clouds dominated the sky, leaving the world below an dull haze. And then came the echoing roar, Kanohi trembled, as he saw a massive shadow tower over the wastes. “Th-the beast,” he managed, as the rain began to pound against Po-Koro. This … this must be the beast that dig the tunnels. It had to be. It was the only thing big enough. The raw intensity of the rain was not upon the village though, it was the fringes, a rough onslaught, but not the full rage of the maelstrom. That was surrounding the beast, seemingly obscure him like a fog. Collector drew their Kanoka Blade, standing in front of Kanohi. They tried to stand firm even as their heartlight matched Kanohi, and their hand rattled. They had to be strong and protect the Matoran, like they imagined a Toa would. As they stood guard the beast lumbered in the distance, seeming to walk past the crude village. Kanohi stared up at the distant beast, his optic’s wide, his body threatening to shatter from his trembling. He … he never imagined such a beast, such power. Was … was that one of those Kaita? Then he heard cries. The Matoran. He swerved to face the village. They were on the outskirts of the storm, but even then the stone buildings of the village were pounded by rain, and the ground was begin to turn into a quagmire. He swallowed and brandished his Kiril Staff. As he readied to grapple he shouted over the storm, “We-we need to move. C-Collector, can you freeze the ground solid, keep it from crumbling? Vashni and Jutori, do you think you can help reinforce the buildings and try to block the flood? Kilo, Nu, other Vahki, would you be willing to help me rescue the Matoran?“ OOC: @pokemonlover360 @Toru Nui @Onaku @Snelly @Tarn … IC Bode - Po-Koro Bode trembled as the roar filled the crumbling ‘streets’ of Po-Koro, and the very sky began to unleash its full fury. The De-Matoran swallowed and thought, “M-Master, I … a storm is brewing, a massive one. And I … I think I can see a colossal monster marching through the epicenter.” Elsewhere the Matoran at the Po-Koro radio tower suddenly interrupted the conversation that had been planned. “Taku, Taku, there is some sort of massive maelstrom ravaging Po-Koro. We are only in the fringes, but it’s devastating the wasteland … Taku, there was just a massive roar. I … any help you can spare, please.” OOC: @Toru Nui @BULiK … IC Mahrika - Stone Suva Mahrika waddled after Ollem, her telescopic lens probing the surrounding waters as she climbed. She … she did not see the beast returning, nor spy any Skakdi moving, but she held her Kanoka at the ready just in case. As little as it would do against even a Skakdi. Strange, to think of a Skakdi as the lesser of two evils. The weaker of two powers. Only a few hours ago, she feared nothing more than the Skakdi. And now? They were barely stronger than her. All but helpless. She shivered, and continued up the path. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Burnmad @Eyru
  39. 2 points
    IC: Providence - Ruins of Fire The Aspect bowed his head in thought, raising a pensive hand to rest beneath his faceplate's chin. After a moment, he responded. "Such a deal would be agreeable to me, if it is agreeable to Zak-Yak. But--" and at this his hand left his faceplate and extended its index finger - "What boon would you consider as being equal in value to a heartlight?" OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Kal the Guardian @Sparticus147 @Snelly @Vezok's Friend IC: Ollem - The Falls With the raft secured mere yards from the trailhead, Ollem was off like a lightning bolt. Despite having been a nervous, starving, dehydrated wreck when Mahrika had met him, the Onu-Matoran had seemingly been revitalized in the short time they'd known each other, leaving Mahrika to wonder how much of this change had arisen purely as a result of her own presence. Presently, Ollem was charging up the trailhead - though as his sense of caution caught back up to his astounded sense of curiosity, he halted, turning to make sure that Mahrika was able to keep up with his pace, as they advanced together towards the grand and statuesque waterfall that bore the likeness of a Kanohi Kaukau. OOC: @Harvali @Unreliable Narrator
  40. 2 points
    Things are a bit better, working on resuming normal post schedule.
  41. 2 points
    It most certainly will become one.
  42. 2 points
    I do tend to view 2001 Bionicle with a lot of nostalgia; it was a huge defining focus of my childhood growing up, and even as the official story moved on, I was still writing stories and talking about it on BZPower years and years later. So I am very biased about the first year of Bionicle, just getting that out there. And the crazy thing is, it very well could not have worked. Lego was throwing all sorts of ideas at the wall to see what would stick. Throwbots / Slizers did well enough, but there was also Galidor and Jack Stone in that same era (generally), so not all of them were winners. But they managed to strike gold with Bionicle, something I'd be willing to say they haven't been able to do with any other home-grown theme besides Ninjago and TLM. But Bionicle had plenty of ridiculous notions to it that still make AFOLs hate the theme; so I'd have to say that a little luck was also involved on Lego's part. I mean, there have been other one-shot themes that had good sets and a decent story with a movie or show, but they eventually ended, and it's surprising that Bionicle ended up lasting for as long as it did instead of fading away after a year or two. In general, while the sets did improve over the years, 2001 had a lot to offer without really being compared to previous waves. Sure, Slizers did buildable characters, and the Rahi were similar to technic Cyber Slam sets. But the Rahi had complex functions and cool animalistic looks that hadn't really been done before. And the Toa builds weren't as varied as the Slizers, but all six were very distinct from each other and their color blocking was done very well, which helped separate their characters, and they had simple but effective functionality. And then there was collectability. I'm sure Lego did a lot with collectible sets and figs in the 90s, but man the collectible Kanohi masks were just so infectious, you just had to get more. And $2 packs were pretty affordable and widely available, so everybody could easily start building their collection. The toys themselves fit into the action figure niche that Lego really hadn't tapped before. Yes, they were widely different from almost anything Lego had done before, but they were cool enough that they sold well. It was the right toy design at the right time. And yes, the story mattered immensely, with the comics and MNOLG really building up the world and characters and narrative, allowing you to play out the story with your sets as the Toa fought the Rahi and searched for the masks. It does boggle my mind just how "lightning in a bottle" the whole situation was; the game and movie got canceled, forcing the side Matoran game to suddenly handle the brunt force of the story, but the Templar people did an amazing job at telling this compelling story even with all the restrictions they had (in regards to violence shown, animation speed from slow internet of the time, the huge rush to get new content out, and 9-11 happening in the middle of it all.) It worked out so amazingly well and I don't think the franchise would've survived if it hadn't been for that game. It's importance isn't to be dismissed, and it's all the more impressive because it was not supposed to be the flagship game for the theme, but it handled the burden admirably. (To be fair, the comics were also very well done in 2001, and they were what first got me hooked into the story, but the MNOLG was what got me invested in it.) But looking at the deeper story of the Toa on Mata Nui, it had a lot of deep mystery and great lore going for it. And it had one advantage that other years lacked; cultural appropriation. In retrospect, knowing all the ideas and name they stole from Maori culture is very off putting. Maori and Polynesian culture is very interesting in and of itself, and you gain a lot of that mysticism through Bionicle's first year... but the fact that they were making a profit off the concepts from another culture is very distasteful. They certainly veered away from such things later on, as the various character names became more ridiculous. (Turahk, Keerahk, Voporahk, Reidak, ext. At least in later years they started referring animals with stuff like Carapar and Chirox, but then you also had Mutran and Stronius.) People say that the overall themes of 01 were better, more mystic, ext, and a lot of that comes from them setting up a story without diving into the particulars (Metru Nui, Great Spirit Robot, Brotherhood of Makuta). And there's a lot of Faber's concepts that stand out on their own, with hero capsules healing a buried giant robot. But a lot also comes from borrowed Maori culture, and while it made for a great story, it still wasn't the right thing to do for a toy theme. Lotta mixed feelings here. Anyway, that's some of my ramblings from the early years. TLDR: The stars aligned for everything for Bionicle, with good sets and a good story, presented very effectively by the MNOLG, but it also had the distasteful advantage of taking elements from Maori culture.
  43. 2 points
    IC: Reliable Narrator | Air Suva The suva settled. The plant and its curve matched the half moon window. "Okay, now I'm confused," Nixie piped up. "I know you're both moving this around, and there's a plant, but why? Sala, care explaining?" She couldn't take another lecture from Sorilax. It reminded her of classes in Ga-Metru, and that reminded her of what happened to Ga-Metru. OOC: @Kal the Guardian, @Sparticus147 IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Air "Really, by now I would have assumed you could have formed a solid prediction based on the data previously provided. This is a temple. It's a place of worship and prayer. And it's also a place to prove one's worth. Lewa believed in thinking outside the box. Ironically, he built boxes within this sacred space," the Administrator replied to Taja's musings. Morangad found himself noting the writing on the walls as similar to the language of aspects carved into Desecration Rock at the far South of the Fau Swamp. OOC: @Sparticus147, @Burnmad, @Eyru, @Nato the Traveler
  44. 2 points
    IC Stannis | Coliseum "Indeed? You wish to be feared?" The old man studied Aurax carefully. His pearl-eyes looked like they saw into the new king's skull, white and mysterious as the smoke he exhaled and shrouded his visage with. The concept did not surprise him though he also didn't appear to be too astonished; it was a vainglorious desire, which on the surface was in kind for Pridak's successor, though the nature of the request was what separated the two warlords. Pridak wanted to be feared to inspire hope and enact change, whereas Aurax wanted to be feared to obtain loyalty and solidify power. It was a fitting ask of an unworthy man. But still the best man for the job. "To have enemies shiver at the thought of you, friends quake in their nearness to you, and to have influence over the minds and hearts of those you need to sway. You wish to be heeded by any means, to command the respect and obedience of subjects who wouldn't dare lift a finger against you for fear of consequences. Say that it is so."
  45. 2 points
    IC: Barius - Base of Irnakk's Tooth Barius could only smirk in response to Drukarus' reply, looking up at the peak of the volcano as he spoke. "A god is merely what we call the most powerful class of beings known to us. If you doubt their existence, you have made the mistake of setting your sights too high." His gaze lowered, scanning the warband. "I've seen fewer Matoran in my lifetime than I could count on one hand. Up until yesterday, anyhow. But we've got one with us, why don't you ask him?" He pushed himself off the hood of the Wagon and barked to whoever could hear. "Where's Grime!? Someone bring Grime here!" Almost as an afterthought, he added: "Gently!" OOC: @Sparticus147 @Nato the Traveler @Conway @Unreliable Narrator Calling on a throwaway NPC from page 3. IC: Providence - Outside Ruins of Fire Providence stood still as the situation escalated, and it didn't seem like Zak-Yak was going to back down. When the Mesi called on him and Varian for aid, he suddenly sprung into motion, moving forward swiftly but cautiously, hands raised in a gesture of mediation. "Well, hold on now, we wouldn't want things to get... Mesi here, now would we?" His faceplate twisted in a grin. No one laughed. His faceplate twisted in a frown. "Listen, listen..." He gestured to the briefcase. He'd sensed the contents, probed the shadows within the container, but had been unable to distinguish the ACR key within from the other two heartlights. "You've got three heartlights in there. Surely you don't need all of them, do you? Perhaps you could give just one to my dear, misguided friend here." He clapped a hand onto Zak-Yak's shoulder. "You know-- in the interests of friendship?" OOC: @Sparticus147 @Kal the Guardian @~Xemnas~ @Snelly @Vezok's Friend
  46. 2 points
    Alright, we can make an exception in that case. But I'm glad you realized the error of your ways.
  47. 2 points
    IC: Zak-Yak (Outside the Fire Ruins) From behind the leg of Varian, Zak-Yak glared at the Aspect and the Skakdi, a fierce snarl upon his face unlike anything that either Varian or Providence had seen yet. Truly, Zak-Yak was not the same cowardly and meek Mesi that he has been, no, Zak-Yak was now channeling the more feral nature of his kind, he was not going to give up. As Zak-Yak looked between the two, he focused his gaze upon the briefcase. Zak-Yak knew that with but a single thought, he could cause the briefcase to become as ghostly and ethereal as he himself can become. But he also knew that to attempt anything would likely lead to either Cravious or Whira to strike him down. “I will have back what is rightfully mine.” Screeching out in reply, Zak-Yak called back in reply, a viciousness lining his words, "NO! No no no no no, nooooooo! I will have heartlight, I will have blessings. And you won't stop Zak-Yak! Varian Master, Providence Aspect, help Zak-Yak." OOC: @Burnmad @Kal the Guardian @~Xemnas~ @Snelly @Vezok's Friend IC: Sala (The Air Suva) “There’s a crack around the bottom of the suva where it meets the floor, but the suva keeps going down! It looks like the crack is a groove or something, but it’s too small for me to slip my hand inside, let along some string. But Sorilax, if I can call you Sorilax, you just made a desk out of shadow or something like it right? Maybe you can do something about it?” “Huh? Oh, well I guess that I did indeed make a desk. It is just so natural an action at this point that I don’t even register making shadow objects any more. I suppose thousands of years of constant usage will do that with just about anything. Now let me see what I am able to do. Thank you for remembering, Nixie. I am quite glad we didn’t miss this.” As Nixie pointed out the odd architectural feature of the Suva and Sorilax attempted to see if he could interact with the Suva, Sala looked between the Suva and the architecture of the temple as a thought came upon him. "It's a puzzle...It's A Puzzle! That is why the windows are different, and the Suva digs into the temple, it's a puzzle! The Suva is a dial and the windows are the keys Sorilax, Nixie, what do you two think of this?" OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Kal the Guardian
  48. 2 points
    IC: Drukarus (Irrnak's Tooth) "I reckon the most reasonable explanation is that our two worlds had some contact with one another, prior to now. Maybe your giant robot originally came from this world, some time ago?" Joining Barius in his thoughtful mulling, Drukarus dryly replied, "Yes, maybe it did. But, I do not think that anyone owned that robot...If anything, it might have been Mata-Nui himself...As absurd it is for me to admit the existence of a god..." Continuing to think about the true nature of the great machine, Drukarus's turned his head skywards, perhaps in a hopeful attempt to see the remains of his former universe through the ash-filled clouds of the Irrnak's Tooth. "But to think, that something so massive could have even made it up there, truly the idea of it is just as absurd as the idea of an actual god?..What do you think of this?..And perhaps, to sate my own curiosity, what is it that you know of the Matoran of this land, if they do still exist here?" OOC: @Burnmad IC: Apex (Grand Temple Ruins) “I harbor disdain for your kind because you broke everything. It was your meddling that ruined the calculations. If it wasn’t for the naïve and jealous selfishness of your kind, we would be in paradise. The Kaita were sufficient. They had use. Your kind are a bug in the system, an unfortunate backdoor in a perfect society created in harmony and peace by the Builders.” “But please, identify yourselves. New users requesting access require an initial login. A name will suffice. Or, as you might say: please tell me your names so I know who has come to pray. I am nothing if not willing to learn.” Although the Administrator's continual speech irked ever more and more upon Apex's senses, she knew that she genuinely couldn't do anything against this Administrator, and that simply roaring at her till she silenced herself was pointless and a waste of time. Simply grumbling in reply Apex spoke, her attention more upon the room she was in. "I do not know of what these calculations of yours are, or how my mere existence harmed it. My domain was only ever the wilderness of this island, and it was perfect under its own rule. These Builders, whatever society and their Kaita had, it had no bearing upon the natural order of things, and if it ever did, then it would have had to contend with me. Honestly, whatever problem you have with me or those like me, I do not care for, my concern is solely the Skakdi. Now, quiet yourself here and busy yourself with those who care to listen...Oh, and if you need a name, I will at least offer that. I am Apex, Aspect of the Beast." With that settled, and hopefully the Administrator finally accepting the fact that Apex did not want to talk lest they were willing to offer anything of use to the beastial Aspect, she continued to survey the room. Looking around, Apex honestly could not make any sort of heads nor tails concerning the pipes. She did not know nor cared for the technology of others, and that to mess with said pipes would disturb the birds and insects that dwelled amongst them, something that Apex did not care to do to the innocent creatures. Besides, that was not Apex's desire. Lest she needed to do so, these ancient machines were not her goal, it was the ancient writing that was across the floor. Though the floor was covered by a variety of detritus, Apex felt the dark energies that ran through them. With great care and concern, Apex cleared the floor as best she could, using her large forelimbs to sweep massive portions at a time with her wings at times quickly flittering to shoo away the lighter and looser debris. After several long minutes, Apex eventually managed to clear the floor, with the debris being placed against the plain wall to the right of the doorway. Briefly registering the little jungle bug that sat upon the right wall, Apex joyfully buzzed back in return to the little Rahi, before she turned her attention back to her handiwork. Looking at the floor, Apex began to decipher the language, pressing through the mental shroud of her mind to recognize the words upon the ground...And hopefully, being able to trace the rest of the text to where it went. OOC: @Unreliable Narrator
  49. 2 points
    IC: Barius - Base of Irnakk's Tooth Barius scratched his chin, mulling over the other Skak's musings. "I reckon the most reasonable explanation is that our two worlds had some contact with one another, prior to now. Maybe your giant robot originally came from this world, some time ago?" OOC: @Sparticus147 @Conway @Nato the Traveler IC: Morangad - Grand Temple Ruins The Administrator, hm? And what was that about prayer? He supposed Apex had mentioned that this was a temple... "I am Morangad," he said. Standing there, still uncertain where to look when addressing this strange, disembodied voice, he dug for something to ask the 'Administrator' in return. "Who constructed this temple?" OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Nato the Traveler @Eyru By the way, would Morangad ever have heard of 'the Builders' before? IC: Ollem - The Collection of Flotsam Formerly Known As 'The Rig' Ollem stood in place, idly tugging his feet out of the sucking embrace of the sodden sand on the shore, only to bury them again for lack of firmer footing. His gaze was fixed upon the likeness of a Kanohi that waited across the bay. "Oh! Maybe we could find some flotsam to use as a raft? Might be easier and quicker than walking around this muddy shoreline." He turned his head to look out into the bay, where specks of rainbow colors marked corpses that were scattered among the gleaming metal wreckage, uncertain whether he had ought to say the next bit. When he ultimately did, his voice was a tad quieter: "And, perhaps some things of value can be salvaged from... all that." OOC: @Harvali
  50. 2 points
    IC: Sorilax - Aspect of Shadow and Silence - Aspects of Makuta Location - Air Suva With - Sala, Nixie A crack around the Suva? Yes, he had felt it when he had scanned with Shadow for any more pits in the floor, but he hadn’t taken much thought to it in the moment. Then Nixie mentioned the shadow desk he had made, which Sorilax looked at, finally realizing he had done so. “Huh? Oh, well I guess that I did indeed make a desk. It is just so natural an action at this point that I don’t even register making shadow objects any more. I suppose thousands of years of constant usage will do that with just about anything. “Now let me see what I am able to do,” He paused, something in the back of his mind telling him there was more to say. He looked at Sala while in thought. Then he figured it out, his mind making the connection between Sala and treating others with more respect than he felt due to his nature as an Aspect, “Thank you for remembering, Nixie. I am quite glad we didn’t miss this.” He walked over to the Suva, inspecting it first with his eyes. He made small notes in one of his scrolls. This wasn’t how he normally documented things, but he would make an allowance for these fellow chroniclers and change how he did things. They were much more in tune with the speed of time, it seemed, and time was indeed pressing upon them. He would do well to learn from them. Sorilax then observed with his element, Shadow forming to touch every crack and crevice that might be hiding information below the floor. If his suspicions were correct and the Suva was able to rotate, then he would try to do so using Shadow to apply pressure at points as low as possible in order to be able to apply the minimum amount of torque needed to rotate the Suva in the safest possible way. There was no need to damage anything before he was able to document it fully. OOC: @Sparticus147 @Unreliable Narrator
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