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I'm not sure what possessed me to make this, but uh, here we are! Comic 1 Comic 2 Stay tuned to see if it possesses me to draw some more EDIT 2/2/2024: Added another page! Thinking of making this a weekly release, possibly more often if the mood strikes me. --Akaku: Master of Flight

Happy birthday, BZP! Not sure if I should make a topic for this or just add a birthdaygreeting post, but here goes! An art attempt at honoring the site staff! 21 tiny tributes. Each is a mini 3x3" pencil and mechanical pencil drawing on watercolor paper. Sealed with Krylon Workable Fixatif spray. ~62.5 hours (please forgive if faulty figures!) total set drawing time, done from lap desk + tablet reference photos. My utmost apologies for detailing differences, "happy accidents", small dots/blemishes on a few of these that the free version of Pixlr wouldn't allow me to remove, and any current staff I've maybe missed (uncertain as staff page did not list everyone) ! Thanks to each and every one for all the work done to make the site fun! A special thank you to xccj for abounding aid in art inspiration and extensive advice on staff history! Doc with full size scans/more pictures. Original drawings mailed to Black Six. Doc with full resolution scans and more pictures. In order: @Eyru@GSR@Erebus@xccj@Dimensioneer@SPIRIT@Emzee @Ta-metru_defender@Nuju Metru@Nukaya@ChocolateFrogs@Black Six@Binkmeister@InnerRayg @Zatth@dviddy@Takuma Nuva@Sumiki@Tufi Piyufi@Brappy Hour@danny316p

With the end of Premier Memberships, there's still a hope that the community will help support BZPower and keep the site running. We have to pay monthly for our hosting, keep the BZPower domain names, install an SSL certificate to secure the connection between our site and our users, and have an active license for our forum software so we can stay updated. And that's just at a bare minimum. Other things like shipping raffle and contest prizes add more expenses, and none of that even considers the time the staff donates behind the scenes. To hopefully help with all that, we are opening the site up to donations, with a goal you can see here that tracks our expenses for the year to date, plus the fees and taxes that will be removed from any payments. There's no perks for donating, just a sincere thank you from myself and everyone else who still uses and enjoys BZPower. We appreciate any and all support! Even if we don't meet our target, we will still continue to keep the site running for as long as we are able. BZPower means a lot to us all, and we'd love to see it stick around for a long, long time. If you can help, we truly appreciate it!

Feel like this should have been done privately...

Retiring Premier Membership BZPower has had the Premier Membership program for a long time, providing a way for people to help support the site financially while receiving some perks in return. Over the years, with changes to the forum software and the decrease in activity on the site, the allure of those perks has understandably been reduced, making the program much less appealing than it was in the past. Invision, the company that makes BZPower's forum software, announced that in their next major update they will be removing the store aspect of the forums, which is how Premier Memberships are managed. Keeping everything above in mind, this seems like the right time to cease the Premier Membership program. Of course, anyone who purchased a Lifetime membership will retain that title and the remaining perks, but memberships will no longer be for sale as of February 29th, 2024. The forum software does have new ways of doing subscriptions and accepting donations, so we may look into doing a new program in the future. If we do, it will be something that fits with the current activity level of the site and capabilities of the software. We appreciate everyone who has donated to support BZPower over the years! Every little bit has been helpful in keeping us running, and we thank you all!

Floral Fury Built for the "Plants vs. Horror" collab hosted by Bionilug. I know, it's not so much horror, let's say the real horror comes from the point of view of the Matoran in this specific situation. 13/11/2023

Strong, stalwart, and as old as the mountains themselves...

IC: The Ghost (The Tower) For the first time in their conversation, the Ghost looked legitimately confused; the expression was ill-fitting on his face, as if it had been turned to a purpose for which it simply had not been designed. ”Abandon the Spice? Lords, no. You're worthless to me in withdrawal. Worse than worthless, even. No, you will continue your use of Spice.” As he spoke the last sentence, he stood up once again, and walked to the far side of the room. Once there, he opened and closed a drawer; whatever he had taken was small enough to fit in his enclosed hand. “From now on, I am your supplier. I won't have some drug dealer in the outer ring withholding your Spice in exchange for some advantage of your elevated position, nor will I allow some cut substance to rob me of one of the only people in this compound I can trust.” He placed the object in his hand upon the table, but did not sit. It was an odd little device, a blunt metal hook smaller than the palm of Taldrix's hand. “This goes behind your ear. When you wear it, I hear what you hear; when you don't, it's as lifeless as any implant without a source of bio-electricity, barring a meager back-up supply with only one purpose. Observe:” He put two fingers to his wrist, as if to take his pulse, and a tiny blue light began blinking on the device. A subtle vibration ran through it, too, enough to slightly shift its position on the table. “If I need you, and the device is not active, this will let you know. If it is, you will simply hear my voice in your ear, as clearly as if I were standing next to you. When you need Spice, or you're interrogating the Iron Tribe girl, or you find yourself witness to anything else that I should hear, you put it on. Likewise, I will use it to inform you of when, where and how to collect. If you attempt to take advantage of my generosity, I will know, and you will sorely regret it.” Throughout his speech, his smile had been unwavering, but only now did the menace recede from his eyes. “Now that that's dealt with, is there anything that you would like to ask me?” OOC: @Toru Nui IC: Celrys (CelTech workshop, Tajun) “The wreath, yes. It's… how to put it…” He frowned for a moment, then turned to one of the workshop’s many drawers and produced an odd implement. “This, Del, is called a stethoscope. You put the buds in your ears, like so, and you gently press the disc against the left side of the chest, like so.” He demonstrated on himself, then removed the earbuds and offered them to Del. “Would you care to try it?” OOC: @Techn0geist @Snelly IC: Kirbraz (Staff NPC; The Shadiest Spot on Bara Magna) To the delight and dismay of philosophers everywhere, Kirbraz conclusively proved the existence of the soul to both Cacia and Karak as they witnessed his own briefly depart from his body. His first thought, naturally, was that this lurking man who he had never seen before must have been an assassin, sent by Scodonius’ secret friend. He was certainly intimidating enough, but as Kirbraz mopped the nervous sweat from his brow, he realised there were a few holes in that theory. Chiefly, that Cacia seemed only mildly frustrated by the terrifying Glatorian, but also the fact that this man had already been inside the premises when he arrived, and the building’s proprietor had yet – to the best of Kirbraz’s knowledge, at least – to invent a precognitive implant. No, this man knew Skyra Daring; he’d seen her come in, or perhaps even come in with her. This was his ticket. “Y-yes, sir. The driver. Have you, uh, well, I, erm, what I mean to say is, she- is she here? I saw her vehicle parked outside, and I wanted to hire her.” OOC: @Jesse Pinkman IC: Tueris (Staff NPC; Valley of Death) Tueris grunted his assent, falling in at the rear of the procession, the better to keep his eye on all of them. High above, he heard the familiar chatter of the carrion birds – buzzards and vultures, perched upon the edge of the canyon walls. Watching. Waiting. “Seems we have spectators,” he muttered. Nothing to worry about for now; it was only when they began to fly away that there would be trouble. If Tueris and the others were the ripest pickings to be found, it meant there weren't any larger predators feasting nearby. It was funny, how the things the ignorant mistook for omens so often meant the opposite of their fears – all the same, Tueris tried to put little credence altogether in omens. He knew already that this journey could only end one way. OOC: @Burnmad @oncertainty @~Xemnas~ @Toru Nui @Nato G IC: Skrall (Markets, Bone Hunter Stronghold) It had been some years since last he stepped foot within these walls. The Stronghold had changed since then, as it had changed each time he had come here, growing larger and more perverse with every passing day. He had spoken on occasion to the Gatherers, a choice which he was swiftly given cause to regret on every occasion, and gleaned from them the source of their continuing prosperity: Iconox. Not twenty years ago, this thriving settlement was little more than a ramshackle fort; slavery was an even dirtier business back then, carried out exclusively behind closed doors. Even the Skrall had little need of their services, with Roxtus maintained only by a skeleton garrison, just as it had been until this past year. The rest of the south fared little better, their whole fragile economy being as reliant as it was on the trade of exsidian. Cybernetics were key to the performance of all the manual labour on which southern society had been built, and the rarer exsidian became, the more expensive it was to work, to live. As harsh as the Wastelands were now, it chilled Skrall to imagine the awful lengths to which the southerners must have gone to survive back then. It was an Ice Tribe Agori, Metus, who had changed all of that; his discovery of exsidian in the White Quartz Mountains made it plentiful once again, and his open embrace of slave labour made it cheap. Scarcity became saturation, a situation that could have killed the southern economy once again if not for another Agori. Celrys, they called him, though his success sounded to Skrall’s ears more like a matter of luck – a Grand Champion of their annual Tournament was declared, a no-name Glatorian who had been buoyed to success by the artificer’s implants. He was not the only competitor benefiting from the accessibility of exsidian, and Celrys was not the only inventor of combat implants. Just the one who won. It was an arms race from then on, as arena matches became dominated by fancier and fancier devices, all built by the boy with the reputation for building the device that won. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy from then on; it didn't matter how many Glatorian with a CelTech implant were defeated, because CelTech made all the implants, and every competitor had them. No matter who won, they would have commissioned Celrys. After all, not being implanted would have meant being at an immediate disadvantage, and the arena battles weren't for sport alone. What village would want to be represented by a Glatorian without cybernetics? Suddenly, exsidian was as much a prerequisite for arena fighters as it was for manual labourers, and the former were far more likely to seek out upgrade after upgrade to stay ahead of the competition. And as the demand for exsidian went up, so too did the demand for slaves. The demand for Gatherers. That was the messy truth at the heart of it all: though the south nurtured freedom and individuality, its wheels were greased by just as much blood and suffering as those of the Obsidian Legion, if not more. Though he respected the people of the Wastelands in many ways, and perhaps even envied them, one thing was perfectly clear: Order would have to be brought to the chaos of the south, and only the Skrall could do it.

The community here is small enough as-is. Excluding people from taking part in giveaways if they don't meet some arbitrary post quota will just encourage spam, or drive people away altogether.

IC: Wolf (Atero; Red Star Room) “Awake and ready,” she replied, pulling her helm down over her eyes. Her few belongings were already gathered into a pack and flung over her shoulder. “I gather you would have preferred the floor; you’ll sleep well in the Serrate.” OOC: @Wotz IC: Celrys (His office, Tajun) Celrys, his scope retracted, watched the strange Glatorian leave with a look of unmistakeable sadness in his eyes. There was disappointment there, yes – disappointment that he hadn’t been able to get through to him – but there was also hurt. The pain was an unfamiliar one, here as he was in his custom workshop, where people came to him from all across the known world, where he was respected and, perhaps, even revered. It was the look in the Glatorian’s eyes; it made him think of another Celrys, living another life, years before he would become a household name. One who was forced to grow accustomed to that look, one not just of anger or unease but of disgust. They looked at him like he was an aberration, an affront to nature itself. He felt a kinship with that other version of himself, who had seemed so distant until this moment. It was curious; he had faced criticism before, even hatred. Many considered his work unnerving or unnatural, and some even made their antipathy far more personal. What was it about this that was so different? Offense, he realised. People found his work distasteful, they found him ‘creepy,’ but those were matters of taste, based on his actions and his words. That Glatorian had felt all of those things, and none of them truly mattered to Celrys; what had gotten under his skin was the way in which the man seemed to be offended by his very existence. He didn’t care what the artificer said or did, he wasn’t even listening. It was his presence itself that he objected to, and there was nothing that could be done to change his mind. Without realising it, Celrys had grown used to being larger than life – but in that Glatorian’s presence, he felt so very small. Still, there was no time to dwell; Del was what was important. As if awakening from a trance, he turned his attention back to his actual client, just in time to experience their meltdown. No time to waste. “Cacia, we need some water in here, now.” Celrys was already on his feet, and making his way towards the door through which he had emerged. “Right away, sir.” The voice that responded, though tinny and seemingly emerging from Celrys’ desk, was unmistakeably that of the receptionist. Though he rolled his eyes when she addressed him as ‘sir,’ he said nothing, focused on the door. “Skyra, I need you to help Del up and follow me.” He held out his open palm, and the door slid open once again, revealing the workshop that had seen Skyra’s implants installed, like so many other Glatorian. In contrast to the office, the room was all sterile metal – metal walls, floor, desks, moveable trolleys. Metal implements, too. The only exception was the adjustable chair at the centre of the room; though metal in construction, allowing its position to be adjusted as necessary (even laid back entirely), in place of ‘cushions’ it had a rubbery surface upon which the client was expected to sit. It was not as uncomfortable as it looked, if not by very much. Celrys himself had made his way to one of the metal cabinets, from which a fog emerged as he opened it. OOC: @Morgan Yu @Techn0geist @Snelly IC: Somnii (Bone Hunter Stronghold; Somnii's Cell) And there it was. It had worked. She was so dumbfounded that she couldn’t quite keep the look of surprise off her face, but she quickly regained her composure. “You’ll probably want to write this down.” Somnii took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and then began. “Usually, it takes one to two weeks from the first symptoms until… until death. Some made it to three; one was even pushing four when I left. Didn’t even know it was a disease to start with. People just… stopped dreaming.” She shuddered involuntarily, and had to take a moment before she could continue. “It’s not like what you think. It’s… it’s as if you’re still there, the whole time. Asleep, but fully aware. And I don’t just mean you can’t move; I mean you’re aware, and that’s it. You don’t feel anything, don’t hear anything. Your body is asleep, you’re not physically anywhere. But you can’t think either. Only experience. And there’s nothing to experience but time. Every single second you’re ‘asleep,’ you’re aware. Hours of… nothing. Like being forced to sit and stare at a wall, without even the ability to distract yourself. The hours feel like years. And then you wake up, and it gets worse, because there’s no rest either. You wake up and you’re just as tired as when you fell asleep – more tired, even – and then that exhaustion compounds. It gets harder to think; you’re groggy, your reflexes are slow, your legs are as heavy as lead. You start forgetting things – blackouts, at first, then recent things stop sticking. You forget where you are, what you’re doing. Soon enough, though, it doesn’t matter if you used to know it. You don’t have the energy to find it in your mind anymore. You don’t have the energy to do much of anything anymore. But even that is better than being asleep. “Pretty early on, people start trying to keep themselves awake. Simple stuff at first, caffeine, trying to keep your eyes open, the usual things a miner on a long shift knows to do. But that’s not enough, because you still fall asleep, and you still have to experience that… that void. That's when the dying starts. Some people take their own lives; it can’t be so different, after all. At least when you’re dead, you’re gone. Better to be nothing at all than to be forced to stare forever into oblivion. Sometimes it’s an accident – people try to go to work or go about their lives, but they’re slow. They fall, or they get hurt. Sometimes they hurt themselves on purpose, just trying to stay awake, and they’re too tired to realise they cut too deep. It doesn’t matter, because they’ll soon enough die anyway. “The next stage turns the tiredness and confusion to aggression. People become violent, paranoid, irrational. They lash out, hurt others, get themselves hurt. It only takes another day or two after that before they just stop waking up. After that, some of them die quicker than others. We tried to keep the first few alive, comatose; that was before more people started getting it, and we realised what we were doing was tantamount to torture. Better to be dead than to be trapped in that dreamless sleep. So yes – you’re right not to shake my hand. I wouldn’t wish this sickness on anyone. Not even you.” OOC: @Toru Nui

Hello everyone, friends new and old. I’m slowly putting together a character for this RPG as I dust off these old joints. Once they’re active, it will take a bit of time to get them to a location where they’ll be available to players, but as soon as I do, I hope I can join you all in crafting this wonderful story! Good gaming, and see you around!

IC: Skrall (Markets; the Bone Hunter Stronghold) “She is right.” He had returned without the slightest sound; stealth was easy in this place, so loud and so crowded, and it came naturally to him. “Do not mistake depravity for weakness. Look around: this is a fortress. Multiple walls, a watchtower, only one entrance and one exit – not to mention that the market means no shortage of supplies to outlast a siege. Not only that, but these Gatherers are disparate; this represents only a fraction of their number, and this location is strategically valuable only in that it can withstand an assault. Those grains of sand would slip through our fingers. Meanwhile, this is our nearest source of supplies outside Roxtus, and they have another stronghold along the route, meaning that they could easily raid the caravans carrying supplies to our army, or even attack our flank. It would be a massacre, and if we won, we would have shown our hand to the South, revealing ourselves as invaders and making enemies of their most powerful Tribe in the process by halting the supply of slave labour for the duration of the siege.” He looked back to the market; Agori were hauling supplies to the carts in which the Skrall had arrived, carefully avoiding the spikits. “I have seen to our supplies. Once Atakus is finished with the handover, we will be ready for the long journey to Tajun.” OOC: @ skrall IC: Kirbraz (Staff NPC; The Shadiest Spot on Bara Magna) The Agori shifted nervously, weighing up his options; he had no idea who this man was, and if he was indeed a mercenary, he would have no reason to take Kirbraz’s side. The moment he spoke the name aloud, the Glatorian would know exactly who the highest bidder would be. “Someone wants me… silenced. I know something they don't want known.” OOC: @Jesse Pinkman

IC: Mard & Ahmoa - Training Ground, outskirts of Atero "Oof! Ouch." Ahmoa proclaimed involuntarily as Lorqua brought Lutenus's axe charge to a stop with her shield-bash. "A tad rough, don't you think?" "Pull your blows, last warning! That looked nasty!" Mard barked at the combatants, wondering how bad Lutenus would feel the bruising come morning. But the counterattack had left Lutenus wide-open, and the referee readied himself to call the fight. Seeing how Lorqua had turned the tables so quickly however, he couldn't count out Lutenus doing the same just yet. So uncannily quick to push the attack, the two Agori wondered how that would translate to defensive recovery and offensive response. IC: Del - Celrys's Workshop, Tajun Del returned Karak's brief glance as he left the clinic, trying and failing to decipher what was happening behind the blood-red Glatorian's eyes. <<Analysing scenario.>> The information imparted by Celrys gave Del rare pause. The heat climbing inside their head spiked. <<Unknown quantity aided Del I leave isolation. Unknown quantity, voice, dire— >> Del's process was interrupted only briefly by Skyra Daring's colourful freakout, barely even a tick. << —cted Del I find Celrys. Del I find Celrys.>> <<Nemoni. Nemoni. Nemoni.>> Tick. Tick. Tick. Like a skipping record needle. <<Cannot reconcile. N-N-N-Nemoni not I. Del I. Name Del I. I-I-Identity Del I...>> A fierce sweat broke on their brow. Their mind was running hot now, dangerously hot. It had to throttle back, hard. <<Quarantine w-w-when sick people... p-p-prevent-t-t-t making others sick-k-k-k-k-k...>> "Youuu cooontracted thhhe Ferrummm Plagggue..." Del slurred out in lazy repetition, abandoning their usual precision speaking clip. "Theeey hhhave the Ferrum Plaaague..." The helmet, slipping from their hands, clanged loudly onto the floor. Del looked up to Celrys, to Skyra. Their vision swam, their face clammy and their forehead hot with fever. <<Q-Q-Q-Query.>>> "Del I... sick?" OOC: @Toru Nui @oncertainty @Morgan Yu @a goose @Snelly

IC: NPC (Celrys' Workshop, Tajun) It was a pleasant little stone building, and surprisingly humble, tucked into the shade in one of Tajun's most affluent neighbourhoods. The only thing that gave any indication of its nature was a gold plaque by the door, upon which was embossed: CELTECH Consultations by Appointment Only The text seemed almost to glare at Skyra, its disapproval palpable. Still, the door was answered – not by Celrys, but by a diminutive, beleaguered-looking Water Tribe Agori. She was young, but her face gained a decade at least in the moment she laid eyes on Skyra. It was quite apparent she recognised her. "Miss Daring, the door was not locked. If you and your-" She looked briefly at Del, and then even more briefly – so much as to seem intentionally so – at Karak. "Companions would like to step inside, you can explain your predicament and I'll find out when he's available." IC: Somnii (Bone Hunter Stronghold; Somnii's Cell) Then he wanted her alive. She had suspected as much, but to have it confirmed… She could use that, somehow. She would find a way. "I've got good news for you, then; I've already lasted longer than I expected, but I watched nearly a dozen miners succumb to this plague. It took them all, in the end." Somnii paused, a thought occurring to her. "That's what this is about, right? I heard Crucius say I was being 'kept for observation.' If that's the case, then I think we can help each other." IC: Skrall (The Prison Wagon) Skrall sighed and shook his head. He had little love for the Bone Hunters – they were parasites, without honour or worth, and made allies of the Skrall only out of a desire for further profit. Such venality drove every decision they made; if another tribe made a better offer, they would turn on the Black Legion without hesitation. Still, he supposed, the Skrall would have to take allies where they could find them. The greed of the Hunters at least made them willing to overlook the notions of conquest and racial supremacy that so chafed the rest of the locals, and the old saying about the choices of beggars held true. This was how it had to be – for the Skrall, and for their prisoner. OOC: uhh, let's see here. @Snelly @Morgan YuYuYuYuYuYuYYuYuYuYuYuYuYuYuYuYuYuYuYYuYuYuYuYuYu @Techn0geist @Toru Nui @skrall

Yes, that's the best name I could come up with - names are hard! Coming back from a couple months of soul-searching, I am ready to return to streaming - come join the block party! After almost a decade of doing different types of streams with different names and schedules, I am merging everything into one generic LEGO-themed stream not tied to building sets, playing videogames, days of the week, or a specific platform. That stream is B6's Block Party! Our first stream will be tomorrow, March 20th, at 7 PM Eastern, where we're going to build a LEGO set. What set? You'll have to come and find out! We haven't changed locations, so we'll still be over on the BZPower Twitch channel, with archives posted on our YouTube channel. Moving forward, the plan will be to announce a schedule every Sunday or Monday, with at least a day's notice so people can plan accordingly. We'll be building sets, playing videogames, and maybe other things? I have a lot of bricks that need to be sorted and some sets that need to be taken apart eventually, so maybe you'll see that too at some point (or you won't because it sounds boring and you won't watch). There won't be anymore giveaways like we did with our set builds - believe it or not after almost a decade since we received the first pallets from The LEGO Group, we are actually starting to run low and want to focus our remaining supplies on things like contests and the convention circuit. So yeah, something new and hopefully fresh and fun! At some point I'll probably need to come up with a new logo and maybe some overlays and other graphics - if you want to help, please let me know! Thanks everyone who has ever watched one of our streams and to all our future viewers - we do this for the fun of it and hope you have fun too!

With this MOC, I've finally made at least one revamp or reimagining of all six of the original Toa!

When they were first introduced in 2007, the Barraki brought with them a game-changing new backstory that completely reframed everything we thought we understood about the history of the Bionicle universe. The idea that the Matoran aren’t the chosen people, that the Toa weren’t the original peacekeepers, has always fascinated me, and it was disappointing that future years of the storyline never explored these implications. The fact that these six all-important Prime Species never really played much of a role in the story before or since 2007 is strange as well, so in this thread I wanted to explore some theories about where the Prime Species come from, and what happened to them after the Barraki were imprisoned and their armies were disbanded. From information given in the 2007 storyline, in guidebooks and encyclopaedias, and comments from Greg Farshtey, we have a wealth of information to work with. We know each Barraki was the leader of a different species, and Greg Farshtey has been adamant in the past that none of these species were ones we’d encountered in-story before, meaning none of them are Toa, Skakdi, Vortixx, Steltians, etc. A caveat to that is his statement that connections to the Dark Hunters weren’t discussed, meaning that some of the Dark Hunters of unknown origin could theoretically be members of a Prime Species. The encyclopedia gives a rough rundown of which region each Barraki ruled, though there’s some dispute over this, as Takadox’s entry completely contradicts information given in the other five. BS01 considers the Takadox account to be incorrect, so for the purposes of this thread, and my map above, I’m going with the information in the other five entries. (Note: as Destral can move, Daxia was secret, and we know from The Mutran Chronicles that Artakha and the Southern Islands weren’t conquered, I’ve left those locations unclaimed on my map. We also don’t know for sure if Karzahni was taken over, but given its proximity to Metru Nui, I’m choosing to assume it was). For the purposes of my theories, I’m operating under the assumption that most of the Barraki include their own homelands in their territories. Ehlek probably has the weirdest territory of the bunch, ruling his homeland of Zakaz, but also controlling the western island chain. This arrangement makes a little more sense if we assume he was also responsible for the oceans in general. His species is the only one we know for sure has appeared in-story post-2007, with Federation Of Fear revealing that they became servants of the Order Of Mata Nui. Kalmah was said to have ruled the Northwestern region of the universe. In my map I’ve given him the Northern Continent, but I theorise that he also ruled the island that once neighboured Artakha. The Bionicle World guidebook (written in-universe by the Order Of Mata Nui), states that the inhabitants of Artakha destroyed a larger neighbouring island that was connected to theirs by a land bridge, as part of the measures to hide their island from the rest of the universe after Makuta Kojol’s raid. The guidebook claims this larger island was uninhabited, but given the generally deceitful and villainous nature of the Order, I think this entire account is questionable. We know the Order actively assassinated anyone who knew the location of Artakha, and that Kalmah’s species, ruling the Northwestern part of the universe, would have likely known the location, so I believe that the Order may have committed genocide against the species and sunk their homeland to hide the evidence, explaining why we don’t see this species again in-story. This is further evidenced by a line from Kalmah in The Mutran Chronicles, where he says “As for Artakha, let the old fool putter among his creations,” a strangely personal insult which suggests some degree of first-hand knowledge, given that most other beings we see in-story reverentially regard Artakha as a near-mythical figure. Pridak is one of the biggest mysteries here. All we know about his origins is that he was a servant of the Brotherhood of Makuta who travelled a lot. Upon becoming a Barraki, Pridak is said to have ruled the northeastern part of the universe, with Xia being the only island specifically named. To give him a territory more comparable in size to some of the other Barraki, on my map I’ve given him Stelt, Karzahni, and the unnamed islands to the east. But given what we know of his backstory, I don’t think any of these islands are his original homeland. The best theory I’ve seen - in Click's wonderful Simplifying the Species List thread - is that he might be a member of Tobduk’s species (with his pride/vanity being the emotion he feeds on). This would reframe the Brotherhood’s decision to unleash the Visorak on that island as an act of deliberate revenge against Pridak, and/or an attempt to prevent others of his kind from taking up his banner. Takadox is said to have ruled the eastern part of the universe, which I’ve interpreted as the chain of islands that includes Odina, Nynrah, and Visorak. These islands provide a few possibilities for the origin of his species. Nynrah is said to have a native species of craftsmen, separate from the Fe-Matoran who would later become known as the Nynrah Ghosts. This doesn’t fit what we know of Takadox super well, so I believe a better candidate for his homeland would be Odina. The Bionicle World guidebook states that there was a society native to Odina prior to the Dark Hunters making the island their base of operations, who were killed off/driven out. The Dark Hunters were established after the Barraki were imprisoned, so I feel that this fits the timeline quite well, and explains why Takadox’s race doesn’t appear again in-story. Finally, we have Mantax and Carapar. Mantax is said to have ruled the central part of the empire, while Carapar controlled the south section, and made some attempts to conquer the island chains further south. Given that it’s the only landmass left, I’m assuming that these two shared the Southern Continent, with the Tren Krom river being the border separating their territories. We know the Great Cataclysm did severe damage to this continent, and likely decimated the populations of these species. Given that no other Barraki seem to originate from the same landmass, it’s also possible that the homeland of Carapar’s species is actually one of the southern islands. In this case, us not seeing anything more of his species still makes sense, since the story never really explored those islands.

Dune Surfer Ronin Made as a group project with Petersheikah and DanV. I built the base, Dan the surfboard and Peter the Ronin. 11/03/24

IC: Skrall (Markets; the Bone Hunter Stronghold) Skrall shook his head. “They have attacked our caravans before. It has rarely ended well for them, but they thrive on anonymity; their numbers, lack of a command structure and their disparate clans all prevent blame from being leveled, and they know that our desire for retribution will be tempered by our need for trade. The Roxtus garrison has hesitated to alienate our allies with false accusations.” He paused, then, and looked up at the watchtower on the horizon. “That said, it has been months since the last attack. Perhaps the full force of the Black Legion being so nearby has made them more wary of attracting our ire; Tirveus is known to inspire such fear.” He wanted to believe what he had said; the might of the Skrall should be feared, and Tirveus had a reputation for disproportionate (and misaimed) retribution; he had no qualms about punishing the innocent, just so that a crime would be seen to have been punished. But even he heard in his own voice the absence of conviction, the lack of the certainty which usually came so easily to him. He knew there was another explanation, one that unsettled him greatly: the Bone Hunters had changed. Skrall knew the South better than anyone. He had come with eyes unclouded by propaganda or tradition, and become as much a stranger to his own people as he was to the Southerners; he was a son of the Black Spikes, a true Roxtusian, of neither North nor South. He saw both with a clarity that neither possessed, whether looking inward or outward. It was this enlightened perspective that defined him; his truth was absolute. And he knew that neither the Skrall nor the Southerners were capable of independently changing their ways. They needed people like him, people who were not swayed by petty tradition or nationalistic vanity. Outsiders. It was a fundamental truth of the world that change could not come from within. This truth was absolute. Certainly, aspects of the Bone Hunters – and the South as a whole – could change. But though their Stronghold grew and the champions of the South adorned themselves with greater numbers of cybernetic modifications, the changes were matters of scale. Of growth. Surface details. The Bone Hunters themselves had not changed, could not change, not on any fundamental level. He understood them, understood what motivated them. Survival and profit, and nothing more. If their behaviour had changed, it was in service of survival, or it was in service of profit. “On the other hand, the Skrall being closer at hand has also made us more valuable customers. You may be right; perhaps now they see the value in not alienating us.” Profit. Survival. That was all. There was no truth to the uncanniness he felt. Things were the same as they ever were. OOC: @Burnmad @oncertainty @BULiK @Nato G @Toru Nui @Vezok's Friend

I’ll admit, I don’t have a lot of personal experience with autism, so I can’t speak to your experiences. I’ve struggled with other mental health issues of my own, so I try not to judge people for that sort of thing. From what we’ve seen here, it seems quite clear that you’re struggling with impulsive/obsessive behaviour and other self-control issues. And I agree that intent can easily be misconstrued on the internet. But with all of that said, it’s very hard to take you at your word when you’ve been nothing but disingenuous and deceptive since you got here. By your own admission, you used an AI to write your apology for you. You gave conflicting accounts of the situation you were apologising for, and misrepresented the facts to make yourself seem the victim (despite the person you were harassing having ample evidence to the contrary). You basically tried to trick this site into taking your side in an argument we knew nothing about. And on top of all of that, all of us have now seen you publicly promise multiple times that you would stop your behaviour, only for you to go back on your word within just a few hours. As harsh as it sounds, it would probably be in everyone’s best interests for you to unplug for a while, and avoid the temptation to engage with the internet until you're better able to control yourself. It sounds like you understand that you need help. I implore you to seek it.

Okay so I haven't bothered chiming into this situation because it's none of my business, and it'll stay this way after this post, but likeeee...you're asking people to not publicize this situation and keep it private...while you are also, by making this post, publicizing this, and you have been making the situation very public this whole time. I, and I'm sure many others on this site, would have not been aware of this situation had you not made this a public spectacle. Just pointing that out, a little two cents. Back to silence I goooooo

1) pick a more active venue than BZPower. The unfortunate truth is that this website doesn't get as much traffic as it used to and probably never will again. 2) respectfully, put more effort into your topics. Of the recent ones I have checked out from you, most of them were not things I found very interesting. Your recent question about whether you are allowed to put "Official" in a topic name is a basic yes/no question that I just assumed an administrator would eventually handle for you. [I think the answer is no, BTW, or at least it used to be. I once tried to make something like an "Official Rhotuka Spinner Power" topic some years ago and it got closed.] I don't know anything about the Pringles vlogs you mentioned in another topic. You don't actually mention BIONICLE that much. If you can write/draw or make MOCs, posting those would be the most baseline way of engaging with the BIONICLE community. 3) tying in to point 2, try not to post as many topics. A small number of higher-effort engagements will be better received than a ton of fairly low-effort posts bordering on spam. On a deeper level, though, not just BIONICLE fans but people in general don't like to follow creators who feel like they're trying to get popular. The people who get platforms are the ones with interesting talents or unique perspectives, not people going out of their way to just get popular. Hope you found this helpful.

The sun shines so brightly here. Yet that is not enough for them. The plants are more than alive now. So they hunger for more. -.-. .- .-.. .-.. .. -. —. ....... .. -. ....... .- .-.. .-.. ....... .— . . -.. ....... .— .- -.-. -.- . .-. ... More on Instagram

IC: Tueris (Staff NPC; Valley of Death) “They don't like villages. They'd stay away regardless. Just routine. Instinct. Whatever you want to call it. We won't know what to expect until we get there, only that it won't be good.” He knew the Agori was only trying to hold on to hope, but hope was dangerous out here. Better to expect the worst, and come prepared. OOC: @Nato G and the Iron Canyon Crew IC: Kirbraz (Staff NPC; The Shadiest Spot on Bara Magna) Metal god? Could he have meant Celrys? There was no telling how long she might be in there for. “Uh- say, I don't suppose your services are, ah, for hire? As, you know… as protection. Just until Miss Daring comes back.” OOC: @Jesse Pinkman IC: Celrys (CelTech workshop, Tajun) “No sound, no. Electrical impulses. That is why we need a wreath, rather than a stethoscope.” OOC: @Techn0geist @Snelly IC: The Ghost (The Tower) Wouldn't I like to know… He watched Taldrix with a renewed intensity. “You have a talent for asking the right questions, but the only people who know that are long gone. I have spent my life picking through the rubble, and still I have no more answers than you. Not yet.” Something shifted in his expression, as if he had heard a noise somewhere in the distance. “I promised your compatriots power. Weapons. Their desires are… simple, like that. But there is more than just power waiting out in those canyons. There are answers, to the questions that plague us both.” The Ghost walked slowly to the map table. A square grid depicted, in excruciating detail, the canyons east of the Wastelands, from the Creeps all the way to Ferrum – at least, in the squares that were not blank. The space was strewn with painted tacks and dyed string, deliberate in their placement but without an immediately obvious meaning. A pencil lay close by; the Ghost had been drawing it by hand. He gestured toward the table with an open palm, encouraging her to look. “This is my search for those answers.” OOC: @Toru Nui

Could it be, a birthday on BZP? Why yes, there just happens to be one on this day! Happy birthday, @otter! Art gifted on the behalf of Mushy, who is currently feeling a bit under the weather:

IC: Gayle – Iron Canyon While the two Glatorian jostled for the unenviable duty of taking the lead, Gayle settled in towards the middle of the group’s procession. The decision was motivated as much by common sense as it was self-preservation. She was one of the smaller beings present, and her axe didn’t offer the greatest range. Taking up a defensive position better-suited to someone with longer reach would only put all of their lives at risk. And in the eyes of any prowling predators, she was the smallest and most appetising snack, so having Glatorian on either side of her would certainly improve her chances. She left her axe holstered for now. Though she knew the time it took her to draw her weapon could be the difference between life and death, gripping the weapon for hours on end would lead to tired arms, sweaty hands, and cramped fingers, and that could get her killed just as easily. She angled her gaze upwards as she walked, keeping her focus on the sky and canyon wall above the group. Unexpected attacks from above had ended the lives of many an unprepared traveller, and Gayle had no desire to join them. When she faced death – whether it was today, tomorrow, or a decade from now – she intended to look it in the eyes, and go down swinging. ______________________________________________________________________ IC: Somok – Precipere The party from Vulcanus had become little more than indistinct splotches of colour shifting in the shadows of the floor of the canyon below, but still Somok stood and watched. At his side stood the captain of the guard, Giltu, nervously turning his spear in his hands. “What do we do now?” Giltu asked. “What we’ve always done.” “But if there truly is a plague-” “Then we will ensure it doesn’t reach our village,” Somok said, turning away. “Make certain your guards have eyes on the canyon at all times. Inform me the moment they see any one or thing approaching from the canyon below.” ______________________________________________________________________ IC: Skrall – Bone Hunter Stronghold The stronghold wasn’t at all what he’d expected. He’d spent so much time thinking about the cities of The South that he now realised he hadn’t given any consideration to the first destination on their journey. He’d expected a ramshackle camp, maybe some primitive fortifications, but this was a true, thriving settlement. They had infrastructure, diversity, commerce, and far greater numbers concentrated in this one location than he’d expected. Though they were collectively referred to as Bone Hunters, Skrall had long believed his cousin tribe to be little more than scattered bands of scavengers, undisciplined and drug-addicted. The well-maintained fortifications and organised marketplace he’d just witnessed spoke to something more cooperative and competent... almost civilised. As the carts came to a stop and the group disembarked, Skrall’s first instinct was to let someone else shoulder the responsibility of escorting the prisoner so he could explore the marketplace. But a selfish, sudden realisation changed his mind. As intriguing as the marketplace was, it was clearly something the Bone Hunters had no qualms about letting their visitors see. But the opportunity to get a glimpse behind the scenes and learn more about how this place was run… Atakus was only extending that offer to one volunteer. As small a responsibility as it was, as flippant as Atakus seemed to be about it, it was a position of privilege that Skrall was eager to embrace. Skrall stepped up behind the prisoner and gave him a firm, forceful nudge with the blunt end of his spear, in the direction Atakus was going. “Move.” ______________________________________________________________________ @Vezok's Friend @a goose @oncertainty @Toru Nui @Burnmad @~Xemnas~ @BULiK

OOC: Anyway, after the longest wind-up known to man... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67HND-L9k-A IC: Outside the Hideout Safina's kick struck as the beast wheeled to get out of the way, a howl of discomfort coming--retracted, the creature's natural musculature tensed and prevented a devastating wound. Pushed beyond any sense of self preservation, the Muaka's reddened eyes refocused on Safina as it continued to press, seeking to use its proximity to finally slash at her with rending claws. A sickening crunch came from the darkness to her left as something impacted flesh and protosteel, one of the previously fleeing Matoran hurtling out of the darkness with a freshly broken chestplate and scraping across the ground with a cry. Evidently the Rahkshi wasn't just playing spectator to their fight. IC/NPC: Rahkshi, inside the hideout The clang of the staff on Kehuri's shield was far quieter than it should have been--and the THWACK of pain that came from his back hurt far more than it seemed like it should have. While the shield prevented the immediate impact, the staff almost seemed to phase through the metal only to once again become frighteningly tangible. The worst of the force was abated, but it was still going to leave a nasty bruise. Somehow, that seemed better than paralysis, and didn't interrupt his motion. The Rahkshi chittered, swatting at the lightstone a moment before swinging again--this time for Rall, as the Ta-Matoran took to Kehuri's back. The second Rahkshi to come from the shadows side-stepped the shambling of the corpse, though it had to take a much quicker step back from Skrihen's sword, a rasping sound coming from the creature as it batted the Tryna reanimated Toa back, looking toward Skrihen a moment and its eyes starting to fiercely glow, a mindripping fear starting to burn into the Bo-Toa. Even so, it seemed more focused on keeping the ironclad dead man at bay--and seemingly, the Bo-Toa distracted. From behind Skrihen, a raging torrent of plasma ripped through the air from one of the Rahkshi near the door. Unfortunately for Zueya, the other Rahkshi of the pair seemed to be expecting the head-on charge--and left the undead and the Bo-Toa to its companion, bringing its staff across with bonecrushing force to knock her charge to the side. The Rahkshi jumped to the side, Plagia's lightning orb grazing it as it hissed and started to focus on her. The ground started to shift and stumble beneath her feet, a dull torpor of fog sweeping into her mind and jumbling everything. IC/NPC: The Lieutenant: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2L4r0Aelvg "I'll buy you an apology dinner if we survive this, Dartakh," The clone said, the one carrying the shield tossing it to the ceiling. "But we don't die gloriously. Dying gloriously implies we didn't use all our options." From his unseen position elsewhere, the Lieutenant aimed the rifle in his hands at the mirror like surface of the ice shield, hanging in the air. Alka Torin had fought at the Rama Hive. He'd been in Pala-Koro when it was attacked. He'd faced Rahkshi, servants of Makuta, and true Shadow Toa alike. He'd seen the full array that the powers of darkness had at their disposal, and in response Mata Nui had given the side of light... Six Toa. Powerful ones, sure, and each was a person for whom he had nothing but gratitude. But there were only six, against a sea of Rahkshi. And there was no Toa of Light to counteract the darkness. To bemoan that, however, would be counter to his spirit--and that of the village he had chosen to protect when Pala-Koro fell. Be grateful for help, but expect none. Expecting your faith to heal your wounds, to help you stand... ******. Mata Nui helps those who helps themselves. When you bleed, you put on a bandage. When you fall, you get up. When you face darkness... The Lieutenant pulled the Kaitahu Ra's trigger and a blazing torrent blasted out of the muzzle of the weapon, scalding the darkness, the afterimage burning across retinas. The Rahkshi closest to the door staggered a moment, shaking its head and shrieking in animal fury as the light pinged off the surface of the shield and into its eyes. The mental pressure on Plagia immediately ceased. "Move. It won't be blind for long and that won't work as well ever again." When you face darkness... You make your own light.

Mata Nui Online Game Improvement Mod or MNOGIM MNOG is a well-made flash game that, thanks to its use of vector graphics, still looks great even two decades later. However, it does suffer from a few bugs, as well as from the compression once needed to send the non-vector graphics over dial-up internet. My goal with this project is to improve the experience of playing MNOG to be the best it can be. Those at the BioMedia Project have provided versions of MNOG on their website that play at the appropriate 18 fps and save your progress as you play. I have used their original 2001 auto-saving version as a base. High-Quality JPEG Replacement MNOG makes use of many highly-compressed JPEG images. I have re-created nearly every image at the same resolution, but much higher quality. A few images didn’t have an obvious method for re-creation, such as the Ta-Wahi beach sand, so instead I either upscaled with various methods or cleaned up the jpeg artifacts to the best of my ability. Bug Fixes I have fixed a few bugs in the game, such as Maku teleporting to Po-Wahi, incorrectly overlapping layers, and typos. General Changes I have made a number of changes to improve the gameplay: The Telescope wouldn’t update because it looked for 2001 dates, now it updates as you progress through the game; Maku won’t arrive on the beach until you have visited Vakama; A guard will stop you from using the Ta-Onu Highway until after Ga-Koro; Added black bars to the sides of the screen to prevent widescreens from viewing non-playable area; Book of Chronicles can now scroll from bottom to top and vice-versa; Stopped the Ta-Koro gate from instantly slamming down in front of you when you click it; Disabled ability to cross lava when bridge is down & lowered bridge sprites; Villagers no longer tell you that Nokama has a mission for you until you have the chisel; You can now update Maku on Huki’s status; Added check so that Kapura will not be wandering the woods while also in your company. Color Consistency I've modified several Matoran colors, such as changing Matoran eye colors to be consistent with how they are shown in later animations, and a few instances of incorrectly colored parts. Clone Replacement I've changed the appearance of several otherwise identical Matoran to be a little more unique. Eventually I plan for almost all Matoran to have their own unique colors/appearance. Full list of All-In-One changes can be found here. How To Install You’ll first need to install MNOG (Original 2001 Version) from BioMedia Project. You can download the mod as an All-In-One or you can grab separate sections. Install these separate sections in this order as desired: Bug Fixes High-Quality JPEG Replacement General Changes + High-Quality JPEG Replacement Color Consistency + General Changes + High-Quality JPEG Replacement Clone Replacement + Color Consistency + General Changes + High-Quality JPEG Replacement For the All-In-One: Unzip 'MNOGIM All In One.zip' and copy the ‘Mata Nui Online Game’ folder to the same folder that holds your ‘Mata Nui Online Game.exe’ file. Overwrite all files it asks to overwrite. You are now ready to go. For Bug Fixes: Unzip the .zip file and copy the ‘Mata Nui Online Game’ folder to the same folder that holds you ‘Mata Nui Online Game.exe’ file. Overwrite all files it asks to overwrite. For High-Quality JPEG Replacement: Same as for Bug Fixes. For General Changes + High-Quality JPEG Replacement: Install High-Quality JPEG Replacement and then General Changes the same way as Bug Fixes. For Color Consistency + General Changes + High-Quality JPEG Replacement: Install High-Quality JPEG Replacement and then General Changes and then Color Consistency the same way as Bug Fixes. For Clone Replacement + Color Consistency + General Changes + High-Quality JPEG Replacement: Install High-Quality JPEG Replacement and then General Changes and then Color Consistency and then Clone Replacement the same way as Bug Fixes.

A revamp of the OG Toa of Ice inspired by the new, very constraction-y Dreamzzz joint element.

OOC: Taking the liberty of pushing things along to get Green Boi moving again. IC (Korero) [Ga-Koro] Having gathered from Cael and Praggos that Leah had expressed an intention to speak with the Dasaka Empress, Korero gave the group his earnest (if hurried) thanks and sped off at barely less than a run in the direction of the Ga-Koro docks. With the Hiko he could've been there in the blink of an eye, of course, but from what he'd heard the Dasaka were particularly on-edge after some sort of hijacking attempt the previous day (he hadn't stuck around to hear the details, being far more concerned about Leah's condition). Materialising at the docks without warning, expedient though it might be, seemed unwise. Fifteen minutes of pushing through crowds later, Korero was coming to regret that decision. But eventually the throngs began to thin, and soon the masts of the Dasakan flagship were towering overhead. Korero was immediately struck by the strange construction and sheer bulk of the vessel: it radiated an aura of solidity and power, despite being built from what almost looked like glass. Intentional or not, the presence of such a warship looming over the Ga-Koro dockland made an emphatic statement: these people might be refugees, but they were far from powerless... He sensed eyes on him: the mistrustful glare of nearby Dasaka guards, no doubt suspicious of an unfamiliar Toa emerging from the crowds to stare at the ship carrying their leader. He turned to them and raised a hand in bashful greeting, suddenly unsure of himself in the presence of these soldiers from a far-flung land. Korero might have had the power of a Toa Mata running through his veins, but he still couldn't always shake the instinctive shyness of a misfit Ko-Matoran. "Uh, hello. I'm, uh, Korero Maru. I'm looking for my Sister — Toa Leah. I was told she might be here...?" OOC: @Vezok's Friend @EmperorWhenua

I don't know why these images are sideways

IC/ Skrall/ Stronghold imminent Skrall glanced toward their destination as well, but only briefly. She’d seen it before, and Atakus had it well in focus. So instead she began to scan the landscape off to their right. “Eyes up. Check where you look.” She said, to encourage the others to do the same and keep all other angles covered. The tops of the larger dunes made for good cover. Good for bone hunter scouts. Also good for an ambush. Maybe it was Ex-Skrall’s story fresh in the back of her mind that had her particularly weary of the possibility. Relaxing now would be a mistake. She had mulled it over as the others spoke. He said ‘slashed’. By blade or by claw? The respective wounds would look different, even at a glance. Either way, slashed meant close range. Which in turn meant someone - or several someones - had managed to get close enough to a group of Skrall without being spotted and were skilled enough to dispatch them all. There were many in the wastes that could fight well enough to survive, but to do this? She definitely ruled out Vorox. They might be formidable ambush predators - but they couldn’t have killed them all without a trace and gotten away without incurring losses. There was simply no way. Was it possible then that there were Glatorian capable of this level of stealth and brutal efficiency? Or had it been someone - something else? If there had been more time, maybe she could have determined as much by questioning their cargo. But with the hunter’s fortress ahead, time had run out. From here on out, they would need to stay alert and not take chances on the road. Regardless, it all led to the lesson her other companions’ stories amounted to: ignorance rarely went unpunished - and hubris was lethal. Skrall superiority was not an immutable truth of the universe. It didn’t take the ‘witchcraft’ of the sisters to realize as much. Just as they had to maintain and hone their bodies to fight, they would have to hone their minds and add to their knowledge to stay ahead down south. OOC: @skrall @BULiK @a goose

Name: Akrianos Tribe: Unknown Species: Glatorian Gender: Male Appearance: Tall and lean. Akrianos wears old, unpainted silver armour; long dulled and marred by the elements, and covered by a sun-bleached and sand-stained surcoat of black and white, which appears to have once been something of great esteem. His helmet if of the same material and colour as his armour; handcrafted in a simple shape, but with many hand-carved details of unknown origin, and banded with a cross-shaped and rivet studded strip of metal, with holes for his pale yellow eyes in the horizontal band, and vertical vents near his mouth. Akrianos carried a massive sword and a morning star, but both have been seized by his captors. Cybernetics: Sword Link: With the sword in hand, Akrianos can use his cybernetics in his arm to activate a function on his sword which electro-mechanically converts it to a large tower shield. Stimulant Pump: Over the years, Akrianos has continually tweaked this cybernetic, providing him with an on-demand cocktail of various stimulants, granting him enhanced strength, speed and endurance in combat for brief periods. The stimulants aren't regenerative though, and are limited to four uses before needing to be topped up at the nearest location with traders. Personality & Traits: Akrianos is calculating, driven, and adaptable; capable of striking out solo or working with allies, as the situation suits. He prefers diplomacy when possible, but remains alert, prepared, and calm, even in the most insufferable situations. A cybernetic craftsman and ronin by trade, Akrianos spends most of his time exploring Spherus Magna, stopping in cities for work both as a warrior and to upgrade cybernetics of the lucky few. Weaknesses: Akrianos refuses to give up, to a fault. His tendency to wander off the beaten path can wind him up in trouble, as well. Background: A warrior and craftsman of no renown, Akrianos makes his living as a wandering mercenary and cybernetic repairman across Spherus Magna. His age is unkown, although he looks as though he's seen many battles, and even more miles. Although the few who know him see his wandering as aimless, Akrianos has dedicated his life to a search, which he keeps to himself. On his latest journey between Roxtus and Atero, however, he encountered Bone Hunters, and has spent the past several months in servitude at their Stronghold, awaiting the right moment to escape.

I don’t think BZP will ever be significantly more active at this point. Tis a tiny community and a prime place for contented lurkers, longtime lasting members and few new active friends who occasionally hop in. It also probably will not be a place of popularity for anybody, given its forum format instead of follower-focus like social media. It’s why it so appeals to me and my happy-hermit-unhealthy levels of real world reclusivity. Anyway, hope you find enjoyment about the site and welcome aboard!

BZPower is not the place to air private disputes. Vahkiti has made it very clear he does not want to talk to you, so I encourage you to stop. If you continue to bring this up in topics on BZPower, we will consider restricting your posting privileges. If you want to stay here and talk about Bionicle, you're welcome to do so, but please keep it at that. Thread closed.

IC/ Skrall/ Bonehunter Stronghold/ Markets/ The bone hunters had no army, no regiments. Not even a glatorian presence to speak of (as far as she knew). Yet they survived in the wastes. That alone warranted caution. She wondered how long the prisoner would last - and banished the thought as fast as Tirveus had banished him. He had been skrall - and skrall didn’t break easy. Focusing back on the task at hand, she also looked to the wagons. The amount of supplies being loaded gave her a pretty good idea of the length of the remaining trip ahead - If everything went well. She sidled up to skrall and asked: “What are the odds they will honor the deal? Like you said: They know exactly which routes we can take.” It wouldn’t be smart to draw the ire of the legion - but they were greedy enough to deal in people. They might well be greedy enough to accept the trade and then try to reclaim the supplies down the road. Caravans disappeared all the time. And bone hunters knew the difference between an ambush and an animal attack. She wouldn’t put it past them to attack and then make it appear like the work of Vorox. OOC: @a goose@BULiK@Nato G@oncertainty@Burnmad@Mel@Toru Nui

Yeah, sorry to say this but you're kind of barking up the wrong tree. The bionicle community mostly consists of people who were kids during its' original run between 2001-2011 (counting the extra story arcs). Most of us bond over that shared memory of the old days of bionicle back when it was on store shelves. Most people here will be coming from the perspective of a nostalgic rather than someone who has gained an interest long after the fact. You're more than free to continue reading up on this stuff and indulging in a love of an old franchise (I know I used to do that) but I would really suggest looking elsewhere for a sense of belonging.

IC: Gayle - Iron Canyon Like Tueris, Gayle didn't view the presence of the carrion creatures as an omen. It was a sad, simple fact of life out here in the wilds: death was the only constant. The only things that could survive were the predators who took life and the scavengers who squabbled over the scraps. "I suppose there's some comfort to be found in that," she said quietly. "If they're here waiting for us to die, it means there's not a giant pile of bodies in Ferrum for them to feast on." Unless, of course, the village had already been completely picked clean... @Burnmad @oncertainty @~Xemnas~ @Toru Nui @a goose

IC: Tueris (Staff NPC; Valley of Death) Tueris glanced around with his one good eye, making sure that the whole party had reached the elevator; the medic, of course, was the last to arrive, but that was to be expected. He nodded to the lift operator, a sturdy Agori approaching middle-age, who began the apparently quite gruelling process of turning the iron wheel that put the various pulleys and gears into motion. If it was this difficult to send a group of this size down into the canyon, he felt a pang of relief knowing the operator would not have to worry about lifting their whole group up again. The wooden platform shuddered beneath their feet; the party was on the move. OOC: @Nato G @Burnmad @~Xemnas~ @oncertainty @Toru Nui IC: The Ghost (The Tower) The Ghost's eyebrow quirked upwards as she mentioned his biological differences, but he said nothing. Still, as Taldrix continued to speak, his eyes lit up; when she finished, he released a soft chuckle. "Oh, you really are something, aren't you?" He grinned as he spoke, but the glint in his eyes had turned sinister, the compliment undercut by… what? Anger? Condescension? Both? "Crucius undersold you, my dear. You're more right than you know – that said, you needn't worry about identifying the source or the means of transmission. Those, at least, I already know. Still, you did miss one crucial detail: this has happened before." The grin had soured into a sneer, though his voice remained warm, almost encouraging. "We've already seen one tribe laid low by some mystery malady that robbed them of their minds, after all, and you've proven yourself smart enough to join the dots." OOC: @Toru Nui

IC: "You know, thought I'd see what I caught." For a second Krayn throught he would have to reevaluate the Toa's intelligence. What in Nui's name was he waiting for? He was about to shout when the idea seemed to register, and the swimmer grabbed the hook and gave two distinct tugs. "Grapple's going to do most of the work," he answered, double-checking his foot's purchase beneath the cleat before he triggered the reel-in. He wasn't concerned about the weight, the only challenge was that he was supposed to be the object remaining stationary. He would have liked to brace on the railing with his left, but... His arm didn't hang uselessly at his side, but it did remain purposeless. It wouldn't help. "Just make sure I don't go over instead. Lunatic weighs more than I do right now, I think." @otter @Razgriz

Totally agree with this. Much of the recent price hike is attributable to a handful of predatory scalpers. Set You Up/Yo_Yo_Flamingo and Bionicle Universe are the main culprits but there are others. Set You Up currently has a light gold Avohkii prototype listed for $5000, no doubt the same one that just sold on eBay for $3000. I suspect that sellers like him buy their own stock using duplicate accounts to establish a sales record, making people believe that certain items are worth a fortune, but I don't have proof of this. I get most frustrated when items that really aren't that rare become prohibitively expensive, like the pearl gold Kraahkan. There must be tens of thousands of them out there, if not more, and they are pretty much always available for sale. If I can buy multiples of an item with a few clicks, it's not rare. It extends way outside of Bionicle. There are currently 41 Cloud City Boba Fett minifigs on BrickLink and around a dozen more on eBay. Clearly not a rare figure, and yet the Lego Star Wars AFOL community has unanimously decided that it's worth thousands. Just a few years ago they sold for a couple hundred - still a lot for a mass-produced plastic minifig, but attainable for most collectors who want one. And as for the "demand is greater than supply" argument - if that were true, then every time one of these pieces gets listed, it would sell immediately. The demand for Cloud City Boba Fett minifigs is very obviously not greater than the supply. Pearl gold Kraahkan listings on BrickLink stay up for months. The perception of rarity in these cases has somehow been artificially created. Contrast this with something like an SSKK, which actually is rare and justifiably valuable. I really hope the bubble bursts soon. I won't have any empathy for the predators who are out thousands of dollars. As much as I like the idea that my collection is valuable, I like the idea of being able to buy all the rare pieces I want even more.

IC: Raika Raika barely remembered making it back to camp. Their world was one of red haze and muffled voices. Bones aching, they dragged themself beneath some chaparral scrub and were immediately, finally, unconscious. They had anticipated horrid, lucid nightmares like the last couple days. But instead, they found their nostrils filling with the salt tang of sea air. Looking around, they realized they were in a room with walls of polished glass. Turning around, they saw a large ridged lens rotating in a pool of silver around what appeared to be a truly massive lightstone. They blinked, and looked out the curved window again. The scene was off, like a bad memory, but the coast was familiar enough. It was the Lighthouse. The trapdoor down was exactly where they had remembered it, the staircase glowed with a light slightly more purple than the lightstones had cast in reality. As they descended, the smell of cooked fish and boiling spiced seaweed broth met their nose. Their stomach growled loudly as they slipped out the bottom of the stairwell. They triggered their Volitak and slipped beneath perception so that the old lighthouse keeper wouldn't see them- A woman, one who had never been at the lighthouse in real life, stood at the stove. Her willowy figure was covered by a traveling jacket dripping with dew. As Raika stared, they heard a voice enter their mind. .:Come on out, little ghost. You're not fooling anyone.:. Raika started at the voice. As the figure turned, their suspicions were suddenly confirmed. The figure wore indigo and gold armor over a curvy frame. Their chest was large enough, Raika noted with mixed emotions, to well fill out the breastplate she wore. The Volitak, separated from the armor by a thick, tattered red scarf, was just as polished as the one Raika themself wore. The eyes beneath glowed intensely as she set down two bowls of hot pot on the table. Raika dropped the cloak. It was silly to try and hide from the Wraith, after all. They ate their soup in silence. Raika lamented that they could smell the soup far more acutely than taste it here. They looked across the table at the woman opposite. Voices in your head. The writings Raika had learned their talents from had warned about the potential side effects of dissociation. It was a crucial part of making oneself unknowable. You had to shift the very concept of yourself into a different plane of comprehension. But to make it work, a …bit of yourself… had to stay behind. An anchor. Sometimes that part might start to feel like a whole separate person. You just had to ignore the voices. But… Take any sentient being. Place them alone, perhaps more alone than anybody had ever been. Able to see, but never interact. A ghost. You take any companionship you get in a time like that. Raika broke the silence. .:This is new.:. The Wraith looked up. .:Perhaps. We did have quite the shock the other day.:. Raika stared at the mushroom and hotroot floating amongst the green seaweed in their broth. .:The barrier that Mitsuri mentioned…:. .:...was me, yes.:. The Wraith shifted in their seat to look more directly at Raika. It was like being pinned to their chair. .:I think we'll need to discuss… boundaries… if you're letting others in now.:. There was a longer pause. .:So what happens now?:. Raika asked. .:A good question.:. The Wraith stood, and walked over. .:You've lost the will to defend yourself. I… haven't. And the thing with these new friends? Unless you want to lose them, you'll need to be able to fight for them when the time comes.:. Raika felt their heart racing. .:I… I can't. Not after-:. .:You slew a monster breaking women's minds to make them her toys. Yes, one of them was blamed, but by all accounts she got the equivalent of a slap on the wrist and was told to not let the sun set on her there. She's probably better off now, even.:. Raika felt tears flowing in tiny rivers down their cheeks. The Wraith paused. She looked uncertain, but hesitantly reached a hand out and caressed the side of Raika's kanohi. .:If it's too much… you don't have to do it alone. I can take over for a while.:. Raika shook their head violently. The Wraith almost snatchhed her hand back, looking… hurt? Guilt flooded Raika. .:N-n-no. I… I just… they're my friends. I can't…:. The Wraith relaxed. .:You can't abandon them.:. Raika looked up, tears beaded on the inside of their kanohi. They reached out a cloth-wrapped hand. .:Together?:. The tall warrior's eyes softened. They reached out their own bare arm. .:Together.:. Sunlight cut through the leaves of the shrub Raika was beneath. Shaking their head, they slowly rose to their feet. Every part of their body was stiff, but the horrible deathlike ache had gone from them. It had to have been more than twelve hours. The ship was a hive of activity. Dashi and Datsue alike worked tirelessly helping to construct a fleet of seaworthy vessels. Raika's eyes gleamed behind their mask. The memories of the lighthouse had warmed old memories long buried. Boat repair. A night when Ryuji had been so achingly exhausted he had left his little skiff half-finished while he slept. Come morning, it had been fully repaired, tarred and caulked. He had smiled and thanked the ghost he believed haunted his home. From behind the corner of the keeper's hut, a fifteen-year old Raika had beamed with hidden pride at their work. At the Oki coastline, many attributed the things they felt or saw to heat and exhaustion. A ringti who needed to pause for breath looked up to see the pitch filling she had been laboring over had been melted in and screed smooth as glass. Boards were cut, rope caulk shoved deep, barnacles scraped off and holes filled with wooden plugs. Those collapsing from exhaustion felt as if there was somebody holding them up, but could not place the face. One figure, his green eyes matching a faint glow beneath the shoulders of his robe, thought for a moment he had seen a pair of magenta eyes looking straight at him. He remembered an old legend his grandmother had once told him. Spirits who wandered unseen across the mountains her ancestors had called home. "Raika," he breathed, and the eyes had suddenly never been. He shook his head, unsure where the thought had come from. OOC: Timeskip time! Take us as far as you need @Keeper of Kraata, @The UltimoScorp, @ARROW404, @Click

IC Yumiwa | Ga-Koro, the Yukanna "Then it would be an honor to be your toaship's ambassador." Assuming that I retained continued consent from our mental link a moment before, I deposited a series of images in the toa's mind: A map of the archipelago; the view of the Sado skyline at dusk from Zuto Nui's temple; a detailed chart of Mount Koshiki's terrain; a view of kanohi dragons; and a faded secondhand image of the gate Rayuke had opened taken from his mind's eye. "That's the Archipelago—our homeland. Fifty-nine islands all in all, each diverse and unique as the hues of sunset. Some are ecological paradises of field and herb, others are urban metropolises of quartz made edifice, and all others are in-between. For the urban, we have Sado—our empire's capital, as much a city as it is a jewel-adorned coronet, and my home where I grew up and ruled from. Thousands of Dasaka, Dashi to Datsue, dwelled and worked in the midochondric core of the Empire. "This 'lock,' as you refer to it, is on Mount Koshiki on Odaiba, the largest island and most volcanically active of them all. The dragons my culture holds affinity for dwell there, but there was apparently much more to see. My uncle and a retinue of mystically-transported matoran of your villages opened that lock, and unveiled the gate. Upon its unlocking, this last image you see is Rayuke's very memory of it... and of the entity that emerged from it. Our Zataka—or, your Makuta." The mental slidehow ended with that scene of the gateway and the dark, gorgeous deific entity that emerged from it. "By now, however, all that you have seen has since changed."

IC: Karak - Celtech My head swims as I try to get my head together - none of this should be my concern, so why allow it to trouble me? I lean myself against the wall in the hallway, breathing in the workshop's filtered and tampered air. The company of the Southerners has outstayed its welcome. I feel much more suited to my own. But as my eyes scan over to the exit by the front desk, a man - one of the shorter Agori - locks my gaze in place. I do not hear what he says to the woman out front but his face strikes one of the wind chimes in my flow of memory. Had he been one of the many in the ocean of people arriving in the village? The prospect seems unlikely. None of them had seemed to have caught my eye. I watch him from the hallway. If Del is attracting prying eyes again, I would certainly be better parting ways with my companions in the office. OOC: @Toru Nui @a goose

IC: Vali It had been some time since the warrior had roamed the Madrigal’s dimly lit corridors, freely or not, as her time aboard the vessel over the past week had been spent alternating between the human warship’s bridge and its distinctly non-human main battery. As the resident weapons expert on loan from the Swords of Sanghelios to assist the humans with this experimental merger of technology she was kept more than busy troubleshooting systems and getting the Madrigal into what could be called a fighting shape. While as crude and primitive as the human’s adapted plasma technology was, there was a certain unmistakable… thrill to the challenge of working with the odd mirror of her own people’s technology. Roughing it, as she had heard one of the techs say while they thought she was out of earshot. While she still found the human technology to be without grace and lacking the true touch of an artisan-engineer that gave every piece a unique edge, there was no denying the effectiveness of the direct practicality. That, and it allowed her to ease herself into the decidedly strange military which she found herself surrounded by. Much like their technology, the humans' military structure was… mechanically rigid. They moved about their vessel like so many busy ants, each with a specified task and position that seemed scarcely deviated from. It was an odd contrast to the otherwise familiar way in which she had observed they addressed one another, even among those of wildly differing ranks. Even from her short time aboard, it was apparent how this type of hierarchical organization was honed to a fine edge, and all it took was a competent leader to wield it effectively… Or an incompetent one to shatter it against an enemy. Perhaps this is why the human's victories during the war seemed as extraordinary as their defeats. These, of course, were past musing which the warrior know to her people as Vali Sakuai, and any manner of other amusing names by the humans when they thought her out of earshot, had kept herself busy with during the long hours of simply waiting for their quarry to show. With nothing of particular note happening, and her time otherwise occupied with troubleshooting and simulating systems on board, perhaps she could be forgiven for her admittedly hasty request to take a more active role in the impending operation. Of course, she was well within her right to do so, as her one stipulation to being assigned to the Madrigal was that she be given the same status on missions as any of the Spartan warriors which she knew were to be stationed on the vessel as well. Even so, she had not had time to acquaint herself with said Spartans before her insistent request was made to the captain. Though perhaps that was simply on her mind as her path towards the hangar brought her towards two of the aftermost mentioned Spartans, neither of whom she had encountered before. Still unfamiliar with the rather strange rank which the Spartans fell under, Vali elected to simply stop at the junction and wait for them to pass. @Krayzikk @Vezok's Friend

IC: Karak - Tajun Outskirts She keeps on - I do too. The shade and moist air, even as slight a change as they are, cool my thorny temperament. The sprawling streets under the rocks align themselves akin to a granite jungle. I take heed not to become comfortable - to feel familiar in this alien land will lead to my early doom. I wait for her to perch her beast, so I may do the same. OOC: @Snelly@Techn0geist

IC: Skrall - Caravan "And yet, what they do have is not insignificant," Skrall added. "In my experience they are more dangerous than the larger predators, in their way. Evidently, if they were the first to draw Skrall blood in the South. They are well-suited to this—" he gestured all about the chariot. "—an environment in which we are still all too inexperienced." OOC: @Burnmad @Nato G IC: Lorqua - Training Ground Lorqua, watching Lutenus' reaction carefully, saw the Thornax coming. However, she was off-balance from the throw, and his aim was true. She lunged to one side, and stuck her shield into the path of the oncoming fruit. It bounced off the yellow-painted pelte, the shield giving a deep thrum in response to the impact. Not a critical blow, but it knocked her onto her side. Dust flew up from the field as she skidded a short way across the ground. She grunted, spit, and started to scramble to her feet. OOC: @Toru Nui @Techn0geist

IC: Skrall - On the Road Skrall, to this point, had been silent-- straining his ears to listen to the conversation in both carts at the same time. Taking it all in, drinking in the words of his various traveling companions, trying to get a bead on their perspectives, their weaknesses, and their merits. At the same time, his eyes scanned the horizon, as much to spot any lurking denizens thereof, as to appear like he was not eavesdropping. The results came as a surprise. Well, partially-- that the three male youths were hopeless greenhorns was no surprise. But, there was an unexpected level of nuance to their childish ignorance. Magnet Hands was a thinker; open-minded. If he took care to keep his skull from being similarly opened, that quality might serve him well, when he had gained the experience to know what things were worth thinking about. The other Skrall in their cart struck him as more of a watcher and a follower, someone who took in a great deal of information about the world around him, but struggled to operate without direction. Quite easy to influence, if handled properly, Skrall thought. In the other cart, it was clear that the third youth was trying desperately to be properly Skrall-like. That made him quite predictable, but not necessarily dependable. The female, Skrall could not get a read on. She had said too little, and revealed of herself even less. This was one thing which was not surprising-- of course the female, feared and reviled by all who knew what she was, would not be forthcoming with details about herself. Un-Skrall was not worthy of consideration; even if he managed to earn Skrall's respect, orders were orders, and the traitor would soon be left behind them with the Bone Hunter slavers. Still, the claims he had made were of great interest, and Skrall wondered with a detached curiosity how much of them had been truthful. The scout was the most intriguing of all Skrall's companions. Skrall had initially written him off as a foolish outcast, an ill-fitting link in the Skrallic chain. Now Skrall wondered if the scout was not, perhaps, the wisest of them all-- other than Skrall himself, of course. The scout's story stuck in Skrall's mind even more than un-Skrall's had; the implications it had for Skrall, and what it said of the merits of the Southerners they had come to conquer. There was no doubt in Skrall's mind that the scout had glimpsed one of the myriad faces of Truth-- the ever-shifting crumb of knowledge that few ever saw more of than a mere outline. The question was, had he survived the encounter fully intact? That was a question that would have to be answered through further observation. Presently, it occurred to Skrall that he had been silent for quite a long time while the two youths with whom he was sharing his wagon had been conversing. He thought it prudent to join their conversation, for the sake of group cohesion. They seemed to be talking about Tajun, and one had just asked why all of the Southerners did not live there. "Not enough resources for everyone to live in one place," he said, without tearing his eyes away from the desert sands. "They do as the Skrall did in the North; control sources of not just water, but also food and raw materials. The only difference is that instead of all being Skrall, the villages which control those things in the South are all different. Instead of the leaders taking the fullness of the land's bounty and rationing it out as needed, they distribute it randomly, through a foolish process called economy." OOC: @Nato G @oncertainty

IC: Skrall (The Prison Wagon) "We were a party of six; our leader died first. We initially believed that he was simply going mad – he became confused, unsure of who and where we were, then turned paranoid. We were considering killing him in his sleep – mutiny was a crime, but in this case, it could also be a mercy. He spared us the trouble by never waking up. "We thought he'd been cursed by the people of a nearby village. We took the man we thought responsible as a prisoner; when we returned to Roxtus, he would come with us to answer for his crimes. But then he started talking." Skrall's face betrayed a cold fury, passionless and raw. "Sunstroke. He diagnosed it easily, the moment we mentioned our leader's lack of sweat – as the only named one among us, he had insisted it was due to his mental and physical superiority, the same reasoning by which he refused to rest in the heat of the day or take shelter from the sun. He was Skrall; such weakness was beneath him. "Oh, we didn't believe the prisoner at first, thought it more tricks – after all, what reason did he have to tell the truth? But we favoured the shade and travelled by night from then on, and none of us met our leader's fate. But it wasn't long before the rest of us fell ill, clearly the doing of our bound companion. We were suffering fatigue, dizziness, nausea; one of our number succumbed to delirium and wandered into the desert, convinced he had seen an oasis on the horizon. We found his dessicated body lying in the sand three days later, picked clean by carrion. We were growing weaker by the day, and after another of us died in his sleep, I stated the obvious: we weren't cursed. The prisoner showed the same symptoms as us, and had identified the cause days earlier – much of our water had evaporated in the heat, and with no way of recovering what had been lost, we were rationing it. And we were rationing it too tightly." He heaved a pained sigh, clearly still troubled by the recollection of what came next. "The prisoner had suggestions – cutting into cacti, turning over rocks. Superstition and nonsense. We were Skrall, we knew how to fend for ourselves; we dug down and used the groundwater. Not two days had passed before all three of us who remained were struck down with fever and agony of the stomach; what water we drank, we passed immediately, now saturated with blood. One more scout took his own life rather than endure the pain. We two who remained knew that we were dying, and my comrade blamed the prisoner. Even I could not deny that he was the only one who was not suffering as we did, but rather than kill him as my comrade bade me, I asked him why." Skrall produced a flask of water and took a swig, savouring it. His mouth felt dry from the memories alone. His eyes, which had turned to the middle distance during his tale, fixed themselves again on the fool Skrall. "Tell me, Skrall. Tell me why I lived, and my comrades did not." OOC: @skrall but primarily @Toru Nui

IC: Skrall - Chariot Chats "Our cargo," he said absently, glancing away from his spear to regard the group in the other chariot, "Probably asking what he did wrong so they can avoid making the same mistake." It was a guess, but a logical one. What else was there to ask the soon-to-be-slave about? @oncertainty