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IC: Mantax | Onu-Metru, Archives Seeing Arkius’ intent in removing his exterior armor and casting aside his axe, Mantax pursed his lips and stood up out of his strong spear stance. He called an attending kikanalo rider to take his spear, and two riders dismounted and doffed his armor. While they worked he kept his gaze locked on Arkius, his eyes showing deadly intent. When they finished he stood in the same plainness as Arkius, two warriors bent on crushing each other with their bare fists before assembled witnesses. Mantax lowered his head, took a wide stance, and raised his hands in front of himself. His boots slid across the floor of the Archives, no longer polished and smooth after Arkius’ use of his earth powers to churn the ground. He took a step forward, then another, finally another placing the two warriors within fighting reach. Feeling the tempo on his side, Mantax struck first with a blazing fast rush toward just below Arkius’ center of gravity. IC: Takadox | Po-Metru “She might not but I do,” Takadox said as his kualsi gleamed with recent use. Apparently the barraki left the restaurant in a hurry to collect his favorite spy, because he still carried a napkin to clean the butter off his chin. “But I know you’ll just shout pineapple. No point in wasting them now. Leonn, this is the last time I’m picking you up for lunch. You get your own ride from now on.” He stood only a head or so taller than Leonn, his hunched spine would have made him much taller if he could stand straight. On his back were a pair of single edged broadswords in a single scabbard. Little blue pennants fluttered from their pommels. Takadox stared at Rose and Skyra, his red and hypnotic eyes seeming to spin as they caught a glance without meaning to in his sudden appearance amongst them. “And you… Would you kindly take yourselves to a wedding chapel off island? Somewhere… Remote, and with a tropical view. Tut tut, move along. You don’t have all day ladies.” IC: Dume | Cortex Memories “Well, where to start,” Dume sighed, placing his glass down on a small coaster that appeared with a little wave of his hand. “Place looks like a paradise, but it’s all going down the hole you know? Nothing’s like it used to be. The Brotherhood’s been holed up in the southern fortress slinging spells at the giant leaking bubble in the sky since it showed up. Nothing gets rid of it. Then there’s rumors going around of doomsday. In general, pretty bleak. Matoran don’t want masks anymore, they want a way off this island. An escape, you know? That's why I'm out here. I've been thinking about what to do, trying to get my creative juices flowing. But it hasn't worked. I don't think I wore my thinking mask." Dume chuckled at the joke, then an idea glimmered in his eyes. "Say, you wouldn’t happen to have any room where you come from on this Metru-Nui would you? Where’d you say it was exactly?”

IC: Taja | Aboard the Airship Taja did her best to swallow her frustration and follow Sans' advice. She stretched her hand out, fingertips quivering slightly as she concentrated. "Imagine your entire body is composed of sound." She closed her eyes. She thought back to the moment of her transformation, when Dume shouted her into a Toa. His shout had resonated through her bones; her every cell had seemed to vibrate at a single frequency, like she might shimmer out of existence at any moment. She imagined she could feel it again. She imagined that her body was made of sound, a wavelength stretched and coiled into a person. When Sans spoke, her entire being rippled in response, absorbing the vibrations of his words into herself. "Your entire body is sound..." Each word was composed of vibrations, each syllable a frequency she could pinpoint on a scale. Opening her ears beyond the Turaga's words, Taja listened to the sounds of the ship. Leklo's heart thumped with excitement and fear, each low bu-bump reverberating through the air and echoing through her own body like the sound of a drum. The engines hummed a low D-sharp; the ting of a disk striking the hull rang a high, clear A. The wind outside whistled around them, singing up and down the scale like it was showing off. And beyond... sounds too faint to understand, but she knew they were there because the air carried their vibrations long after the sound had lost all meaning, and they, too, rippled through her body, her every atom vibrating in response like a still pond rippling long after the thrown stone has come to rest on the sandy bed. "...now reach out and shift your body to extend beyond your physical form." She realized now, in a blurry, roundabout way, that receiving sound was only one side of the coin. Just as the reverberations of the air could set her whole body vibrating, so could she reach out and send her own vibrations into the world. The power had been there all along: even as a Matoran, she could shout or sing or whisper sound into being and these were all lesser manifestations of the power that she felt deep within herself, resonating like the taut skin of a snare drum. Now, as a Toa, she didn't need to move her mouth to bring sound into the world. She had only to allow her body to resonate at the frequency of her own elemental energy. It sprang forward eagerly, travelling through her veins like liquid fire and out from her fingertips into the air, which now seemed as easy as anything, as simple as moving her own fingers, like the air itself was an extension of her own body, carrying whatever vibrations she wished to their destination. She directed the path of the sound. Target: box. She carefully decided on the frequency—a B of some kind, high enough to hear but low enough to be pleasant—and a low note sounded through the airship's cabin as the air rippled, moved by an unseen force, and struck the box, knocking it over. Her heartbeat thundering in her ears, Taja raised her hand and looked at in wonder, as if seeing it for the first time. I— I'm a Toa.

IC Stannis | Airship B, the Virgil, above Le-Metru The Wanderer had hoped for things to be different. Too late, he realized he shouldn't have deluded himself, and that his incredible caution had rewarded him with little else than heartbreak and disappointment. Maybe the annoying Dark Hunter was right, maybe he had truly failed. It all felt for naught. Even his zealous defense of Turaga Dume proved to be fruitless as the elder proved to be corrupted and yet still perished. Stannis hoped for Dume to come clean and be faithful to Mata Nui, and Stannis considered the turaga essential to maintain cohesion to Matoran civilization and military structure. None could demand as much respect and command as much charisma as Dume, and his fiery determination and sunset speeches were as much a part of every matoran household as mealtimes and work functions. Even Zataka failed to measure up to his standing, choosing to introduce herself to the city as an angry dictator to be feared rather than a brilliant statesman to be adored. With Dume gone, Stannis feared the civilization he knew and loved would splinter even further and succumb to its own follies. He always understood that the real enemies were found within, a manifestation of distancing from the Three Virtues that allowed Shadow to slip in and fill the gaps—a villager hiring the Dark Hunters to take some vengeance against a neighbor; fearful turaga surrendering their populaces to the march of the Six Kings ostensibly to save them; a wayward toa murdering a brother in a fit of rage; a bureaucrat choosing self-service over public work. But sometimes it came in the form of obsession with something darker, a madness that drove people to do worse than ignorantly surrender their faith but instead deluded the person to commit atrocities in the name of a power other than the Great Spirit; Karzahni preying upon matoran sent to be helped; the Barraki splintering in the name of themselves to conquer the world. And now, Stannis lamented, he could add Dume's subversion to Destiny. How far the paragons fall from their pedestals, indeed. And so he cried then, stoically but truly. Stannis mourned the loss of more than a formerly great leader of the Matoran people—he mourned for the people as a whole. He would fight because that was his mission, but he had no delusions of victory at that point. Only his sheer determination to move ever forwards as his Wandering led him to war kept his vigor up, but that did not mean he had any optimism—after all, positivity was not a Virtue. Stannis sighed, clearing his eyes anew, and looked around at his companions before addressing them. "Le-Metru is likely already fallen. When I looked at the city map I saw little resistance to Ehlek and I feel he has the district well in hand by now, so retaking it will not be easy. And yet, we must try, and hope others come in time as well. As for me," he said forlornly, sounding as ancient as he was, "I will give all I have to ensure success. I have faith, friends. I pray you do as well." He seemed fragile, thus, but it did not reveal weakness. He was old yet spry, withered but still determined, damaged but entirely whole, and Stannis was brittle but had never been stronger. His was the fragility experience and suffering exacted, like the winds and rains of season after season effected upon the granite of a monolith. Like such an ancient statue, Stannis would weather this next storm just like any other before it... ... or he would topple down at long last and find his rest on the ground trying. IC Leklo | Huhu, Ko-Metru airspace "Basically the same thing... but with plasma, it's more precise. You aren't vibrating, you're rippling, if that makes sense. Like if you shake your feet on a shag carpet before poking your buddy, huhuhuhu. Imagine your body is almost like a pool of water. As you reach out, your rippling arm should not merely extend, but pierce the air and world itself as you directly approach your target. Your element has a flow to it, and also precision. Pierce the crate, Leklo. You can do this. And both you you, don't worry, you won't do any damage to the ship that isn't insured, huhuhuhu!" "..." "..." "..." "..." "What's a 'shag carpet?'"

IC Leklo | The Huhu He shot Sans a dubious glance, wondering if the old turaga was as much of an innocent wisecracker as he led on or if Sans in actuality was a dirty bird with a dungeon full of rugs meant for shagging on. But despite Leklo's dark curiosity he set the matter aside and vowed never to bring the matter up with Sans again, only daring to give one last double-take before focusing on studying his powers as advised. Leklo extended his arm again at a crate and concentrated, but... nothing. He echoed Sans' encouragements in his mind again, yet failed to connect them to his circumstance. He was not water, he was not even ice anymore—plasma was not familiar enough to him. Oh! what he would give to become a Toa of Ice instead, to have an element he knew and understood with the precision of a machinist. Korruhn had gravity, but he imagined that was an easy one to feel—it was everywhere, affecting all things, comparatively simple to grasp and control. Then, realizing he had lowered his arm inadvertently and raised it again with a heavy sigh. What was plasma, anyway? How did it manifest, truly? Leklo was not sure. He could feel the power welling up within his body, but there was nothing like it anywhere else, just an otherworldly sensation in his bones that did not compare to anything else. It flowed but was not liquid, and it burned but was not fire, paradoxes Leklo could not quite grasp. And yet it was there. Precision was part of the Alpinist's way of life he followed with near abandon, and he would climb towers and mountains exercising only the greatest level of exactness with his crampons and axes upon the myriad surfaces he encountered. The elemental energy he felt was powerful, begging to be released with vigor to overwhelm senses all over and decimate the enemies of Metru Nui with purifying immolation. Urging only a teaspoon of it forth from his fingers seemed unfathomable in the moment. "I am afraid, Sans," he muttered. He meant it both as a fear of failing to be of use against the Barraki hordes and of rocketing the insurance rate with an accident. He put his hand down again. "I can't." Defeated in the moment, he turned away and sat down against the bulwark, opting instead to pull out one of his swords to examine it. "But I know precision, and I will use it with this."

IC: Takadox | Po-Metru "Oh, that's too bad. I was just trying to give the people what they wanted. A happy ending is always preferable." Takadox said with a sneer toward his right. There was no one there. Just us, dear reader. He looked back at Rose and Skyra. "Besides, I don't like others touching my things."

What style of music do you think fits Bionicle best? 2000s style techno? Orchestral? Tribal? Rap? Not sure what you'd call it, but like, rock?... (think gravity hurts, cryoshell stuff). Personally I prefer techno, especially MNOG's music and the Power Pack. By the way, does MNOG's music composer have any of the old tracks in high quality still? What a tragic loss it'd be if he didn't. Come to think of it, most Bionicle media has surprisingly good music.

IC: Reliable Narrator | Coliseum Office “Water.” Said the vahki who then walked off to find a bottle of water. It came back a little later holding a bottle with a sealed cap. “Water for the prisoner. The prisoner’s water. The water especially for the prisoner. Thank you for waiting. We are still waiting for an available cell.” IC: Tuyet | Dume’s Mirror Sidra stepped out the shadows with the use of her mask and found the air much colder in the space she now stood. She could see her breath floating away from her in white puffs. Light came from cracks in the ceiling far above, letting in sunset’s last rays, and from dangling lightstones in small mesh braziers. Bits of snow lay on the ground near the corners of the cave, swept aside by the many matoran workers she saw staring at her in terror as she appeared. Sidra appeared in a natural cavern approximately 100 meters in length and 50 meters in width with stone walls, granite floors, and a small island in the middle created by two flowing streams. Sidra joined Tuyet on the island by the machine and the large rolling mirror the toa of water leaned against facing away from the Dark Hunter. Dragged equipment and dropped crates left scratch marks and flakes of stone across the surface of the black granite floor. Metal scaffolding bridges spanned the streams, and more scaffolding made its way up the walls approximately 20 meters to a series of metal catwalks near the ceiling where the lighting, air ducts, and other utilities were housed. Red and yellow painted generators on the far walls past the river moat rumbled as they produced power and coughed out exhaust funneled through yellow bending tubes toward the ceiling. The machine itself seen from the mirror rested on the island in the middle of the cavern workshop. It rose about 9 meters from the base of its standing pedestal on the floor to the top of its portal-like ring. The six slots for kanoka disks spaced equally along the ring of the machine were empty. Crates of parts and several power tools covered most of the workshop’s floor space. Multiple strands of cords in various colors were taped to the floor or rose like puppet strings off the machine to the catwalks above. The machine looked nearly complete. Matoran with orange armor and orange masks scuttled about the cavern, all holding odd tools and different pieces of equipment. As Sidra appeared they all dropped their immediate tasks and shouted with fear, pointing and jumping up and down. They spoke in a weird manner, mostly high pitched sounds and blown raspberries. Tuyet’s head swiveled quickly as Sidra disappeared, turning to look behind her in time to watch Sidra’s electro-chute blade cut into the power cords of the machine. Sparks flew into the air, a surge of electrical energy burst from the cords into the swords. “Nope, done playing,” Tuyet said smartly as she gestured outwards with her right hand in Sidra’s direction. The right river rose and followed her command, flowing across the granite floor to wash Sidra away and drag her under into the rushing current. Her left hand spun counter clockwise, and the left river rose from its banks and became a wall of swirling water around the machine. The small, screaming, and orange matoran began throwing oil cans, pebbles, and screws at the Dark Hunter. One of them dropped a long two by four plank from the catwalk. IC: Reliable Narrator | Le-metru During the war with the league the population of Metru-Nui swelled to almost twice its usual. Bloated with immigrants, the city found a way to still press on with industry, education, and opportunity. Le-metru took a large bulk of the new citizens, with its cheap rents in the older and until then abandoned lower buildings atop which the new towers were constructed. A vast majority of jobs in transit, shipping, and packaging were available in Le-Metru. Those running from the reaches of the League could find some semblance of their former life in Le-Metru. After Barraki Ehlek and his soldiers -- Zaliyah, Morah, etc. -- destroyed the chute system’s regional power station and drove out or put down any resistance, the population in Le-Metru plummeted to only a tenth: of the nearly 400,000 residents only 4,000 remained in their apartments. Ehlek’s orders to prepare for an aerial attack led to them commandeering several airships, filling them with explosives, and floating them around the border of the metru. Bumping the ships would cause a chain reaction, destroying anything in the sky. The soldiers with boots on the ground in Ehlek’s army were predominantly his own people: green skinned, smaller than a toa but bigger than a matoran, armed with electricity in their skin and lightstone rifles from Xia. They patrolled the streets near Ehlek’s impromptu base of operations: the tallest skyscraper. It wasn’t as tall as the Coliseum, but he wanted to get a chance to see what living high up felt like.

IC: Mazor-The Cortex Mazor nodded, and looked at the cube. "Here goes nothing," He reached out to hand the cube to Mata Nui.

To borrow an image:

IC: Sans, Airship Tutelage "Impressive, Korruhn! You'll fare well, no doubt! You other two, don't fret. I had the opposite problem when I first became a Toa- I couldn't stop leaking, huhuhuhu!" Sans approached Taja, and held her arm out straight as an arrow. "It's a bit difficult to put into words, yet I still try, for love of chatter if for no other reason, huhuhuhu. Imagine your entire body is composed of sound. Which, in a way, it is. Your whole body, vibrating, pulsing; the crate over there can be touched by you standing over here. Using your powers is just extending your body. In this case, you're extending your arm. You want to reach out and vibrate the air between you and the crate, then feel the crate itself. Your entire body is sound, now reach out and shift your body to extend beyond your physical form." Sans let go of Taja's arm, and saw Leklo extending his own arm before Sans could touch him. "Basically the same thing... but with plasma, it's more precise. You aren't vibrating, you're rippling, if that makes sense. Like if you shake your feet on a shag carpet before poking your buddy, huhuhuhu. Imagine your body is almost like a pool of water. As you reach out, your rippling arm should not merely extend, but pierce the air and world itself as you directly approach your target. Your element has a flow to it, and also precision. Pierce the crate, Leklo. You can do this. And both you you, don't worry, you won't do any damage to the ship that isn't insured, huhuhuhu!" OOC: @Eyru @EmperorWhenua it may not be the best post, but this was very fun to write

IC: Leonn - Po-Metru The boomerang pinged off the shield, but Leonn just managed to clumsily duck under the punch, growling in utter frustration. "Look, I am not of any use to you. The more time you expend trying to subdue me, the longer my boss and the other warlords in your city have to ransack Metru-Nui completely. And I promise you, you do not have a fraction of the time required to crack me open for whatever information you need." He tried to explain, amber eyes flicking between the two.

IC Korruhn & Leklo | Airship A, the Huhu "I want each of you to practice using your element. You'll find it easier to make large blasts, which is fine when we're surrounded by Pridak's forces, but control must be maintained all the same. Each of you, pick a crate, and try your best to blast it with a controlled force. Please don't blow through the hull; while crashing this airship into a knowledge tower would certainly work wonders for stalling Pridak's advance, the clean-up afterwords- and since we will be winning this fight, there will be a clean-up- would be super tedious, and I enjoy making messes more than cleaning them, huhuhuhu. So each of you, focus, take a moment to feel the well of elemental energy building inside you, extend your arms, imagine how it feels to extend your essence towards the target, and unleash a small, controlled blast at the crate of your choosing. Any practice is good practice, huhuhuhu." Leklo was hoisted on to his feet by Korruhn with near effortlessness, listing him as easily as if he were a stick. At first Leklo was amazed by his friend's impressive newfound strength but then Korruhn's gravelly chuckle gave away his secret. "Does that count as practice?" he asked Sans, the dispassionate form of his stoic mask betrayed by the warmth of his voice. "Neat trick," Leklo said, noting the lack of gravity he had until Korruhn put him down. "Maybe with your powers you might have a chance in a climbing race." It was good for him to still be with the former Cartographer. Their bond was brief in tenure yet it had grown stronger than either could have expected. And the feeling was clearly mutual—Korruhn seemed truly glad to share the battle to come with the former Alpinist, like two loners with very peculiar interests who finally met someone else with the same fandom and hobby, and so they naturally latched out of yearning and need for that connection. Besides, Leklo thought, who better to go with into uncharted land than a cartographer? Huhu. "Come on, let's do as the old man says," Korruhn said, pointed his hand at a crate, then clenched his fist. The crate quickly crumpled like a house of cards, sucked into itself until it was nothing but a metal ball. Power, like anger and righteousness, flowed easily through Korruhn, perhaps as a symptom of whatever it was that troubled his dark arm; the Pa-Toa did not know. In contrast, Leklo struggled. He likewise aimed his hand at a crate... but nothing came forth. He could feel something stirring in him, like some deep well of water begging to be drilled, but he did not know how to tap into it. It was there, he knew that without needing a witcher, but the how evaded him. He clenched his fist as well, tightened his jaw, tried to force his power out like a stubborn ****, all while soothing himself to not unleashing an eruption. Control, control, control. But the thrill of it! he lamented. The energies that dwelled in him that begged to be used, the power he knew he had that could be used for such good! Leklo both wanted to prove that he could manifest them, and also did not. He sighed, frustrated, and dropped his hand to his side. A small comfort to his soul was Taja's similar experience. "How do we do it?" Leklo asked, of Sans mostly but also of Korruhn. A trickle of doubt was in his voice as Leklo suddenly seemed unsure of how he was going to be able to save anything at that rate.

As a kid who was obsessed with pirates, I've always loved the LEGO Pirates line. In fact, I remember when I first came across the Barracuda as a kid. It was awe-inspiring. I purchased some of the later Pirates sets over the following years, but none of them seemed quite as awesome. I wrote it off as childhood nostalgia—after all, nothing is as cool as it was when you were a kid, right? That's what I thought, but now I'm not so sure. This set really captures that same sense of wonder, especially with all the little details and play-ability. It looks incredible, and I love all the little touches that hearken back to those old Pirate sets of the 90s. I'm really tempted to splurge on it, even at that hefty price tag. There's no amount of money you can pay to recapture your childhood, but looking at this set kinda makes me feel like I'm six years old again.

IC: Sidra - Dume's Mirror There was a lot to process about this situation. Where was she? Who were all of these strange Su-Matoran? What was Tuyet's plan? Which side would the other Toa take if they came through the portal to join the fray? There was no time to consider those questions. Sidra's focus was on only two things. Water. Electricity. Sidra didn't need to be a physicist to understand that uncomfortable things would occur when Tuyet's attacks met the machinery, particularly the power cables Sidra had just severed. She sheathed her sword and bounded upwards as the water swept in from right and left, clinging to the machine and trying to claw her way atop it. The Toa would be far less likely to fire on her if they wanted the device intact. Fragments of scrap and debris pinged off her armour, grazing and bruising her flesh, but she continued her attempt to climb. She had no love for the League. She didn't condone the cruelties they'd committed or the chaos they'd caused. But for better or worse, the path her life had taken had been shaped by the actions of the Barraki, particularly Takadox. Her life was far from perfect, and she was still not certain that she was truly where she was meant to be in this world, but her life was her own. No one had the right to take that away from her. Change was the way of the world. To break from nature, to turn back the clock, undoing the success and mistakes and sacrifices of thousands just to restore a failing, flawed world order... that was egotistical and unhinged. If she could stop it, she would. Someone has to. IC: Zaliyah - Skyscraper. The Hordika stood upon one of the balconies of the skyscraper, beyond the room where Ehlek had made his own for the occupation. A spare lightstone rifle and a Vorzakh staff were propped against the railing beside her. Impatience gnawed at her psyche, The Id straining in its cage, eager to be set free. Not yet. Soon... At least, she hoped it would be soon. The defences were set, the troops stood ready. Everything was in place to repel whatever paltry attempt the remaining heroes of Metru Nui made to reclaim this region. With Pridak to the West and Kalmah to the East, Zaliyah was confident no attacks would be coming from those directions. So her gaze was focused North, towards the Coliseum, towards the shining, towering heart of the so-called City of Legends. When the attack came, it would surely come from there.

IC Kilo-M9 - Archives: Rules on duels unclear. Total number of enemy forces makes upfront battle unlikely to succeed. Witnesses are needed to observe duels. Multiple witnesses exist for both sides. Solution: Have multiple simultaneous duels. Method is efficient. “Acknowledged,” the machine responded. “Multiple witnesses present.” The steel sentinel turned to point at one of the goons not carrying the spear. “This unit challenges this one to a duel.” OOC: @Unreliable Narrator Kilo is throwing down the gauntlet.

IC: Skyra Daring - Po-Metru - Skyra flipped them the bird. @Tarn@Dane@Unreliable Narrator

By the time I come it, so it does end...

IC [Zataka, Coliseum - Dume’s Office]: It’s always ‘the Matoran’ with your kind - there are others in this world and they want a future too. Zataka studied Tuyet carefully, trying to get a read on her. She was a new player on the field. She seemed to share Dume’s plan, but her attitude was more...ruthless. The warlord could respect that. But she might be trying to achieve the same goal for different reasons. And she needed to know those to figure where they stood in relation to each other - ally, or enemy? “Yes I am staying here.” she replied, then continued: “And we are going to talk about this, unless you have a better reason than ‘the Barraki are waging war’ - there’s other forces at work here and I get the feeling we have not had a straight answer as to why yet. The old fool died before he could give one, but now we have you…” Glancing around the room, Zataka noticed Knichou stashing away the last great disk, and how tense Sidra was again. The dark hunter had apparently found personal motivation beyond payment for her job. The titan looked the legendary Toa back in the eyes: “So, you’ll have to come up with a better explanation than ‘no we’re doing this’, because - ” Twenty-one, twenty-two… The dark hunter ported in behind Tuyet, sword raised to destroy the machine. “- that.”

IC: Skyra Daring - Po-Metru - Skyra sighed, she couldn't bring herself to hate Leonn despite well...everything. "You know I'd almost like you if we weren't on different sides." @Tarn@Dane

It's a real shame too. I corresponded with Gordon Klimes (MNOG animation director) a couple years ago about it and apparently there was a huge server crash on top of office moves, so many digital files from that era were lost. The back-up CDs did not do a very good job backing things up as advertised either. A similar instance happend with Cyan, the company that made the MYST games (which inspired MNOG coincidentally). Cyan had put all their old computers in storage believing that the game files would be preserved. When they took them out of storage years later, most/all of the files had been corrupted or lost. I always preferred the Techno-Funk-Rock-Tribal-Club hybrid of the early years. Paul Hardcastle used a lot of samples between the Powerpack tracks and his own music. I found this one of his a couple years ago on his 2009 album Zer01 (a re-release/mix of his 1985 album Zero One). I believe it may have been cut from the Powerpack, since the lyrics are "Bionicle. Energy. Obey the force. The legend is born. Energy overload. The Bionicle has begun." There's also the track Bionicle Age, that Peri found a couple years ago as well. Peri elaborates on the source here A couple months ago I also found the stock music CD that had music from the Bionicle The Game trailer and the Technic ad on the mini promotional CDs. It's got a similar style to the early music. The album name is Youthquake ATMOS-CD 133. "Up For It" is composed by Billy Conrad & Sam Keaton. "Mental Focus" is composed by Steve Everitt. When the LOMN alpha was found and I listened to the soundtrack for the first time I was ecstatic. I had spent years longing for this game, never thinking it would be found, let alone any music being available. David Q Madden is credited as composing the music for the game. I particularly like the music of Onu-Wahi, Lewa's boss music and Tahu's surf music. It's all very early 2000s with tribal beats. Dave Madden's YouTube and Soundcloud pages 17 Up For It.wav 18 Mental Focus.wav

IC: Leonn - Po-Metru He sighed, exasperated. He'd hoped it was something simple, like a boat off the island. They were right. Takadox respected his requests most of the time but influencing his 'big picture' stuff was way out of line. And, in any case, he didn't want to dissuade his employer from his annex of Ga-Metru, he'd helped it happen after all. So, what could he do? He sighed again, head throbbing as he put his hands up in a very reluctant surrender, looking up at the larger Ta-Toa. "No handcuffs. They chafe the wrists, and I'm fairly sure you don't have any, in any case." He murmured, defeated. OOC: @Tarn @Snelly

IC: Oreius | The Great Temple Sko looked at the Ta-Toa. "I fight for the sake of all. I can't abandon my-" He was interrupted as Tekmo's mass of writhing vines hit him and entangled the Light being. As they grappled him, he could feel himself getting lifted off his feet. Sko began charging light energy in his fists, focusing a beam of light between them. "Your masters are slaughtering innocents," the Toa of Fire replied. "And you are guilty by association. Matoran blood is on your hands." Conjuring a fireball in his off hand, Oreius prepared to strike. "If you do not surrender now, then your blood will be on mine."

IC: Reliable Narrator What Sans did not know, and could not know, was that the airships of the vahki's insurance policy did not include elemental attacks from friendly toa under the umbrella of damages covered. In fact, the insurance agency assured Sans later in a rather heated phone call, not even the secondary insurance agency's policies covered the damages done by lesser gods. IC: Tuyet | Coliseum Office “Not dead, very much alive again, been busy. Thanks for checking in,” Tuyet replied sarcastically at Zataka and Atamai’s initial shocked responses. Then Sidra made her attack. Tuyet’s eyes drifted from moment to moment in the scuffle, took in the tirades from both sides, and listened to Knichou’s plan. She didn’t move from her relaxed leaning position inside the mirror. After Knichou revealed his thinking she finally chimed in again. “Oh yeah no we’re using the Great Disk of Time and we're using this machine the instant you fix it. I’m not letting our chance to make this world a better place for the matoran slip through our fingers. I don’t really care about the consequences to the me standing here. Not now. You get those disks fused firespitter and you all come here right this instant. You too, Ghosty. Well, maybe not you Hunter. You seem a little against this and I'm not really up for fighting right now. As for you, your highness, I take it you’re staying in the office?” She asked Zataka. She tapped the glass of the mirror on the other side and the reflection rippled as the portal between both sides of the mirror opened. As far as the Metru-Nui matoran were concerned that particular trick was new.

I sort of lean to the earlier sounds in a way. I know the lead track of the Power Pack was Paul Hardcastle's Killing Machines from his album "Extreme Global Hardcore" which was renamed to The Bionicle Music for the Power Pack release. That one is a banger, and it shows up a lot in MNOG and other early media up until 2004's Vahki Animations: https://music.instantlicensing.com/audio/killing-machines-1090149 As for the MNOG stuff, a lot of the original files Justin Lutcher composed are assumed lost. There are a few fans though who have recreated or reinterpreted those songs in modern high quality that are worth checking out: Of course I got to mention Nathan Furst and his orchestral works for the films. The fact he went back and re-recorded his music for a proper release on YouTube years after the fact is insane. That is some dedication. Most of my musical tastes are rock, but for some reason I never really got it to stick with Bionicle. Yes I can't listen to Move Along without thinking of the Toa Inika... but it still felt like an odd fit for the franchise. I never got that much into Cryoshell either. I sort of stopped following Bionicle as a kid in 2007 just as Cryoshell started playing for Lego, so I missed that train completely. EDIT: I guess what I feel about rock with Bionicle... is its not really a musical style that feels native to the story. Like its a sort of addition us humans made to the narration that the Matoran themselves wouldn't have picked. The weird techno-tribal fusion stuff from 2001 just sounds to me like the music the Matoran themselves would make, being a weird amalgamation of cyborgs living on a tribal island themselves. The orchestral stuff slides in as well, if only in the same way a Williams score fits Star Wars. No, at the end of Star Wars Luke doesn't sit down to listen to some Williams tracks; its not what people in Star Wars would actually listen to (Cantina Band and The Imperial March besides). But the Williams tracks convey the story's mood and tone to us in the audience. In the same way Furst's music seems to be telling the story along with the films. Where as something like Move Along is "this is a cool popular rock song lets run it with our toy commercial." Its a nice pairing, but All American Rejects are neither native to the Matoran world, nor does their song actively try and convey the story to the audience. Its only association with Bionicle is as a cool tune used in a cool commercial. Edit 2: Really getting off topic here, but an example of Williams music being adapted to sound "in-universe" to Star Wars is Michael Giachinno's scores for the Star Tours ride at Disneyland. It tries to take the film score's melodies, and turn it into some hammy travel company commercial tune. Its hilarious to think the epic scores from Star Wars only exist in the Star Wars universe as background noise in cheesy travel videos.

IC: Skorm (Ga-Metru) Orm growled as Ardoku turned the clash into a thrust, which hit the Shadow being in the shoulder. He stifled a scream, but truthfully, it barely hurt at the moment, the thrill of combat was so intense. As the Su-Toa sunk his blade into his shoulder, Orm smiled. With his right arm he thrust an armblade at a joint in Ardoku's chest armor, while his left went for a draw cut along the wrist of his opponent's sword arm. Sko looked at the Ta-Toa. "I fight for the sake of all. I can't abandon my-" He was interrupted as Tekmo's mass of writhing vines hit him and entangled the Light being. As they grappled him, he could feel himself getting lifted off his feet. Sko began charging light energy in his fists, focusing a beam of light between them.

IC: Taja | Airship to Ko-Metru The newly minted Toa of Sonics looked doubtful at Turaga Sans's suggestion. Was it really a good idea to tell three rookie Toa to just start blasting when they were hundreds of bio in the air? The hull of the airship, which had appeared sturdy and reliable only moments before, suddenly seemed paper-thin, like a sneeze would tear it open and send them all hurtling to their doom. Taja frowned and tucked away these morbid thoughts. The Turaga was right: they needed at least some practice before they threw themselves into open battle. And knowing the consequences of a misfire made it all the more necessary to learn control now. Extending a hand, she closed her eyes and looked inside for the well of elemental energy that Sans had described. The only problem was, she didn't really know what she was looking for. Was it supposed to feel like a warmth? A buzzing like an electrical line? What did energy feel like? Her body felt the same as it had before, just bigger, stronger, and more unwieldy. She didn't feel any new "essence." She was the same Taja she'd always been. She clenched her fists and resisted the urge to kick something. She was already nervous, and this failure to locate her own elemental power wasn't helping. She hated feeling helpless. They were minutes away from confronting Pridak's forces and she couldn't even muster a shout. What was going to happen when they touched down and all she had was a fancy disk launcher and two big feet to trip over? Some help she would be. She had to keep trying. Her power had to be there somewhere. If she just tried hard enough, surely she'd find it. ...right?

I hope our guesses for the date are correct! I’m excited to see what he’s got in store for us!

In a close up fight, Makuta has his Rahkshi powers to overwhelm almost anyone in Star Wars. But from a distance, he would easily be zapped by a Death Star, Holdo Maneuver, Legend's Galaxy Gun, etc... Star Wars has a multitude of super weapons that would just blast Makuta from afar. My guess is Makuta would lay low for a bit. He's what, about three or four meters tall in his titan form? He'd probably look just like an advanced binary load lifter, and he could hide as a droid; disguised in the world until he learned enough to know if he could make his move. If he needed to fight, his powers would allow him to obliterate any foe... but he'd probably want to keep a low profile and not draw attention to his abilities. Without energized protodermis, I don't know if Terry could build any Rahkshi to raise an army, but his ability to take over machine bodies could help him hide in droids and convert them to his plans. He would live for thousands of generations past the human lifespan, allowing him to observe and plot much longer than even ideologies such as the Jedi and the Sith could be around. Remember by the point we see Makuta in the main Bionicle story, he is already older than almost the entire history of Star Wars even in the Legends continuity. As long as Makuta doesn't choose to live on a place like Aldderran, Hosnian Prime or Kajimi... he'll be fine.

IC: Dume | Cortex Memories "Metru-Nui? No. You looking for it? Or you saying that's where you're from?" Dume leaned back, letting himself rest on the wooden boards of the cabana floor. He stared up at the bamboo wind chime tied to the rafters in the ceiling. They played a sort of haunting melody. "Sounds like a nice place. Good strong name. Nui, so I take it it's an island?" @Toru Nui

IC: Vahki | Coliseum Office "Dry or rocks," the vahki Zecrillia knew as S8 responded to Waveahk's request.

"Closer To The Truth" by Cryoshell