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silo

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About silo

Year 05
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    Flying Force!
  • Birthday July 26

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  1. IC: Kathok Hann / Outcrop Bar, New Atero Kathok raises his eyebrow and turns to face her fully. But although he's confident of his immense charisma and charm, he's surprised by how easy that was. However, now he's stuck: he didn't actually have a location in mind, and can't even logically identify why he wants to go somewhere else, in the knowledge that the new somewhere will induce exactly the same feeling of hollow restlessness. As soon as he begins to think on the subject, a part of his brain automatically skates away from it, subconsciously dreading its existential implications. "Which way are you going?" he asks, trying to appear idle.
  2. IC: Kathok Hann / Outcrop Bar, New Atero Kathok feels as if he's missing some subtext. "I used to have a ship." he says suddenly and wistfully. "Jetrax - the best make, if you ask me. Fastest ship you've seen; sleek as a bird on the wing. The 'green zamor', people called it. Lots of people called it that. Other people just called it the...mirage." Kathok has momentarily forgotten that he's supposed to be a travelling salesman. "Pair of lance lasers, hull mounted: I could take the wings off a rama at fifty paces. Beautiful. It..." Kathok has to think for a solid five seconds before he remembers the Sunmaker's fate. "...got too broken down to be usable. Too many scraps with those pirates I mentioned." Kathok drums his pointed fingertips on the bar, back in a contemplative mood. "Now I'm stuck with a jetpack. How boring. Stuck as a solitary dot in the sky. And I can't get anywhere in a hurry, nobody wants to give me a lift." Literal use of the word lift. "Shame, really."
  3. IC: Kathok Hann / Outcrop Bar, New Atero Zyglak? Never heard of them. "Ah, yes. An unscrupulous people if ever I've met one. Fewer wits than weapons; fewer morals than wits." Kathok is proud of that phrase. "So, you're just passing through then? Don't tell me you live here." Kathok gestures out the window to the grey street beyond. "I don't know what to think of the architecture."
  4. IC: Kathok Hann / Outcrop Bar, New Atero "Pirates? Awful." Kathok replies laconically. After a pause: "I've had a few run-ins myself. Outran an black-hulled axalara off the straights of the Tempest. Peppered me full of holes, but I gave him the slip. The Great Spirits are wise: my luck has held so far." Kathok is vaguely unsure as to whether or not he's being ironic with that last part. "Still," Kathok continues grandiosely, "the supply lines must be maintained." Then, realising with uncharacteristic immediacy that conversation usually has at least two participants, asks: "What were yours like?" The bartender arrives with Viann's drink; Kathok thinks about ranting that it's too weak, but holds off for a moment as he waits for her reply.
  5. IC: Kathok Hann / Outcrop Bar, New Atero Kathok's eyes widen, then narrow, as he stares at Viann. Seconds pass. Then he just shakes his head and chuckles, mostly to himself for once. He turns back to the bar, regarding Viann sidelong for a few moments more. Deserting: that'd been an option? In the murky library of Kathok's recollections, the conflict appears all-consuming. But, like an internal game of whispers, that impression might result from its frequent retelling: each tale taller than the last. Kathok calls the hapless agori over again. "Get my friend here something stronger than cola." Then, turning back to the grey skakdi: "Unusual. But you look like you've been in a few scraps." (That word again: something about scraps producing scrap?) "No offence meant, of course."
  6. IC: Kathok Hann / Outcrop Bar, New Atero "I'm no mercenary," jabs Kathok with mock indignation. "I'm a travelling salesman by trade. Kathok Karaihe. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Kathok contemplates the possibility that he sounds too earnest, but extends the hand of greeting nonetheless. "But I was referring to skakdi." With an almost conspiratorial tone, Kathok leans in again and says: "So...where were you in the War?" The classic skakdi icebreaker - something everyone can talk about. Kathok supposes that skakdi have been created since the Zakazian War ended; since the universe ended, in fact. But most wouldn't consider them true skakdi at all.
  7. IC: Kathok Hann / Outcrop Bar, New Atero Eventually, someone sits within a two metre radius of the languishing Kathok. Another skakdi, grey armoured. Kathok leans over with less precision than anticipated. "Not many of us in this part of town." he remarks ambiguously. OOC: Interacting with Viann.
  8. IC: Kathok / Outcrop Bar, New Atero "Hey, hey," Kathok beckons, trying to regain the bartender's attention - a tired, dusty agori with a level stare. "Look, you know me. You've known me a long time. How long have I been coming here?" Three or four times, in the space of perhaps twice as many years, Kathok reflects as he feigns being drunker than he is. "I'm saying it was a good scrap! Shoulda seen it." Kathok dimly makes the connection between the word 'scrap' and his dilapidated surroundings, but can't think of anything useful to do with it. Meanwhile, the agori edges away, nodding solemnly. Kathok returns to his isolation, resentfully thinking that the bartender's job is to be entertained by him, and entertain him in turn - the New Aterolese are too serious. Lately, the world has offered nothing but a beige malaise, broken only by occasional violence or joy, which too soon fades into half-remembered limbo. Kathok wonders whether he's losing his grip on objective reality. OOC: Kathok Hann open in New Atero
  9. Name: Kathok Hann Species: Skakdi Gender: Male Powers: Crystal vision: sees clearly through heat haze; able to find people and objects on the ground far below with relative ease. Elemental plasma in conjunction with another skakdi. Gear: Protosteel claws on hands and feet; spring-loaded and extensible to 18cm. Sharp enough to be used in a knife fight, or for climbing. Rhotuka launcher: produces rhotuka hot enough to sear flesh. Grappling hook launcher: can launch hooks that can punch through thin vehicle armour at short range, or more usually get lodged in some part of a vehicle’s frame at mid range. Has limited aiming capability, and only about 5 hooks. Kit for repairing vehicle + food, water, money. Personal Aircraft: Redshift Allegiance/Role: Freelancer, pirate, occasional sanctioned bounty hunter Appearance: Lightly armoured with dust-encrusted scrap, Kathok is a lean, wiry skakdi with a spring in his step and a glittering grin. His natural armour is almost fluorescent red, shot through with streaks of scathing purple, blue, orange - sticking out like a poisonous frog - with narrow, turquoise eyes. Personality: An arrogant, compulsive liar who takes pride in a well-told story, a well-written piece of wit, or a well-placed shot. Fancying himself as a philosopher, it’s never the wrong time to receive his life advice - despite being far too young to appear sage. Any code of conduct is thrown out when a chase is available, at which point he adopts an almost nihilistic self-abandon; he’s somewhat of an adrenaline junkie. Bio: Drafted into the Zakazian War soon after his creation, it would not be long before Kathok witnessed an even more extensive cataclysm: the destruction of the Matoran Universe itself. This, and the disarray that followed, were the tools that shaped an impressionable young warrior into a being with a conviction that the world was built on a foundation of sand - in more than the literal sense. Name: Redshift Model: Modified jetpack Weaponry: None Customisation: Using an extra thruster, Redshift is able to carry the heavier being. This ability is drawn from Kathok’s elemental reserves, so while activated he is not able to fire his rhotuka launcher. Redshift has the ability to raise its speed to double the normal cruising speed for 10 seconds before ‘recharging’ for around forty seconds. Nevertheless, Kathok’s weight limits its use to around a day continuously before refuelling. Appearance: Like a large chrome backpack. What appears to be a skull is attached behind his head, facing out: it’s what Kathok claims is a defeated foe, but was in fact found abandoned in the deep desert.
  10. IC: Snake - Kaam "All we can do is follow the path, as I say." I reply quickly. I'm aware that time may be growing thin for our companions. IC: Torch - Cauldron I shiver and cough as we pass under the drowning waterfall, hammer-like (striking against us) - an unsubtle thing. Gasping for air, I appear on the other side and scan my surroundings, intent on the goal, eyes on the prize(s), and focused. I shake myself off. I point to a corner of the cavern, where damp (presumably spray-soaked) crates lie: a few of them, all variations on mud-and-sand in colour, and made of ruined wood, rust-caked nails and riddled with debris. "They (to me) look like they've been here...well, a while." I think vocally. "But they might still hold something worthwhile." Something worth their while and ours.
  11. IC: Snake - Kaam I follow the others, weapons bared in case of a surprise attack. As we enter the clearing, my pulse quickens - Fang's movement only exacerbates this as I worry that every pace away from the group increases the risk of a swooping attack which will pluck one of my allies into the forest's shadows. I force myself to focus, regimenting my thoughts into militaristic order: I walk over to the mound-like structures. I'd heard the others call our attackers 'toa', a descriptor I'd only ever seen applied to diagrams in thin-leaved, heavy-bound books before now. Of course we learnt about the toa on a few occasions, and their elemental affinities are well-documented. But someone manipulating ice, the green or radiant matter wouldn't have been able to buckle the earth like this. There must have been a fourth toa, an Onu-Toa. I think back to the disappearance desperately, remembering the swirling snow I'd assumed had carried away our attackers and friends. Then I remember the mutated earth where the toa had been standing. Then it dawns on me, and the words spill out of my mouth in rapid succession. "They are underground!" I hiss, "Their earth manipulator has pulled them underground under the cover of that blizzard, and this disturbance must be as a result of...a tunnel, yes!" Eyes wide, I gesture to the mound: "If we can trace its path from above, it'll lead us to them. Or...we could even go in the tunnel but...well, I'm not sure if that's the best idea when they have an earth manipulator."
  12. IC: Torch - Cauldron Yes, I'd failed to think (in much depth) about this particular obstacle, an obstacle of dampening, soaking and extinguishing water - not to mention the aspect of low temperature and quite painful force, and the addition of slippery rocks to top off the overall unpleasant experience. But, having spent time and effort to get here, I'm not about to give up on our well-defined journey-purpose: I'm full of purpose, almost too full, and it can (I seem to think) overcome a stupid, petty obstacle like this. "We have to go through, I'm thinking." I conclude. "Come on." I say quickly, and walk up to the water, brushing my hand against it and letting the icy liquid-ice run down my arm as I wince. I look over to my companion, and I'm pretty sure I've never done this or a thing like this in any past of mine. "Let's walk in at the same time." I grimace - strength in numbers.
  13. IC: Snake - Kaam And for once I'd been so ready to die. Shame. I climb back to my feet, dusting off the remains of the latest icy assault. Every time-proven instinct is telling me to run as far from this place as possible, but I've seemingly become pretty well practiced at ignoring my instincts recently. I think of something useful to say - after all, all I managed to do in that fight was barely hold some enemies off. I decide not to beat myself up about it, just making a mental note to get better at assessing situations. If we get out of this alive, that is. "Agreed - and they certainly weren't Makuta, they can't have gone too far." I pause for a second. "But we can't split up to look for them, they'll pick us off one by one if they don't just outrun us." This is usually the place where someone makes a useful suggestion, but instead I continue: "If we follow the path of frozen ground-" - I gesture down to the remnants of the swirling snowstorm - "- we'll at least be able to find the Ice manipulator...and it looks like he was the one controlling their escape, and Kat and Cao's capture."
  14. IC: Snake - Kaam I gasp as I feel the unnatural chill fall over me. I go to turn, but I'm locked in place - I can feel searing cold clutch me, and I can feel an icy hand strangle me. I try to let out a hiss of fear, but it's asphyxiated. In desperate panic, I shift a metre forwards, but the hurried teleportation throws me to the ground. My entire body feels like its skin has been ripped off along with the layer of frost - it stings like karz. I whirl around to get a face full of fine, cutting crystals as the ice that had covered me is pulled in by my vacuum and then sprayed out by the shock wave. I draw my swords defiantly, staring down my indistinct enemy and readying myself to fight - yes, actually fight head on - despite my numb, aching muscles, my dusty burns and cuts, and my all-over frostbite treatment. I know deep down that I probably don't stand a chance, but I feel mysteriously accepting of the fact. So it's honestly lucky that Jayar comes to my rescue. IC: Torch - Cauldron I land on the relatively well-kept ground, a dappled and genuinely interesting stone (and stone is, in my (rather limited) experience, generally not too interesting...). The Cauldron is a place I've visited a few times in the recent past and once before that, but mostly just to watch and climb around and such - the scenery here is impressive to say the very least, and the people are interesting too. I hope it doesn't sound strange, but I do quite like watching how other people do things, especially their faces, and how they move around too. And I know that there might be other people here too, other rahkshi (students), but this is quite a different journey to those aimless wanderings of the past, I think to myself, because - I realise - this time I have a well-defined purpose. That well-defined purpose is to gather supplies for my new friend's (or perhaps our) shrine, and I feel more excited about doing something than I have for a long length of time, which I suppose is good (except that it's frankly a strange feeling, and I feel slightly against having to do something, but then again I think I like the thing we're doing, and anyway it's something I've agreed to do: disconcerting). I lean on a boulder and point to the gushing waterfall metres away. I look around to just make absolutely sure that there is no-one watching from behind one of the rocky outcrops - I'm not stupid (I don't think), and we don't want to attract the wrong kind of attention. "There should be supplies and things behind the water, so hopefully we'll find the things we need because they might have been put there by the rahkshi students or the matoran who I think used to live on the rest of the island." I look over to my companion, and I actually feel quite positive about this, and I feel quite (singularly) focused on this goal. I push myself to my feet, suddenly feeling almost rushed: "Should we go in now?"
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