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About Eyru

Year 16
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    Real Canadian Maple Syrup
  • Birthday 07/24/1994

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  1. IC: ??? | Fortress Ruins Darkness. Then light. Axxon opened his eyes. The world was a smear of colour. His eyes struggled to focus. His chest heaved like this was his first breath in a long time. His fingers scrabbled at the dirt. He pushed against the ground. He sat up, breathing hard, and looked around, blinking away his bleariness. His surroundings slowly swam into focus. The blackened ground. The rippling lake. The overcast sky. It was only then that he noticed the pain was gone. The agony that had defied description. The suffering that had pervaded every cell of his body. It was gone, and the absence was like the silence that follows noise. So quiet as to be loud. The relief washed over him like a wave, and his eyes welled up with tears. The curse of the Great Disks was broken. But how? He remembered standing guard over the Forgemaster as he brought the disks into being. Each blow of the hammer had reverberated through his very soul. The disks, he recalled, were beyond anything he had ever seen. He could sense their power from across the room. Nothing could stand against them. So how was he alive? How was he free from the torment of an endless death? His memory was slowly returning—he remembered the thieves at the Forge of the Heartflame. The duel with the Toa of Water. The journey through time itself, and the ensuing battle on the shores of this silver lake. He remembered plunging beneath the waves, and the torture of the ensuing transformation. His body changed, piston and flesh warping into something alien. He had emerged changed, yet the same. Still Axxon, yet something more. And then the Disks... He retched, but there was nothing in his stomach. Even the memory was nauseating. It had felt like he was dying a thousand deaths at once. He had felt the pain of a blade in his stomach; of being consumed by fire; of drowning in saltwater; of being cut in two; of acid eating at his flesh; of insects burrowing under his skin; of a thirst that could not be satisfied; of desperate suffocation; of the frigid vacuum of space; of succumbing to a burning poison in his veins, and a hundred hundred other deaths. One would think the sheer immensity of pain would quickly overwhelm him and send his body into shock, but it was not so. The curse of the Great Disks could not be escaped so easily. Each new death brought with it a new capacity for the perception of pain. There was no cessation, no moment to catch his breath: the agonies overlapped each other with cruel precision. Burning into breaking into bleeding. An infinity of pain that would never cease. He pulled himself from the horrific memory. Strength was quickly returning to his body, and he managed to stagger to his feet. His axe lay on the ground, different than he remembered. As he reached for it, he caught sight of his own hand and realized it was different too. His whole body felt different after his swim in the silver lake. Some foul perversion of protodermis had done this. But, absent the pain, he felt stronger than ever. And that begged the question once more: how? He hefted his axe and turned around, then jumped back in surprise, almost falling back to the ground. A statue stood before him, carved in a curious stance. One hand was raised to the sky, its jagged fingers clawing for something far out of reach. The other reached towards the place he had lain only moments ago, as if imparting a blessing. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was no statue: it was armour. A suit of black armour, so dark that it seemed to absorb the light that fell upon it, making its exact shape difficult to discern. Its cracks and grooves were threaded with mosses and lichens. A glance through the open face of the helmet revealed that the armour was indeed empty. It had not been worn by a being of flesh and blood in some time. In fact, he was surprised it still held together. The closer he looked, the more cracks he saw. It seemed held together by sheer force of will, like even a breath of wind would blow it away. As if on cue, bits of the metal began to flake off and blow away. Little clouds of dust drifted down from its surface. The armour creaked, then suddenly toppled to the ground as its joints gave way. The impact was too much for the ancient metal. It dissolved, the metal mixing with the black sand. In a moment, the old suit of armour was little more than a heap of dust. Axxon blinked in confusion, and then the final memory came rushing back like a bucketful of icy water poured over his head. The Aspect. The promise. The reaching hand. The odd, choking, strangely familiar voice. And the name... Tuakana. At the sound of their name, a presence manifested in the back of his mind. Like a dark storm cloud twisting in an unseen wind. He saw, or thought he saw, a face in the roiling shadows. It had neither eyes nor mouth, but it seemed to smile at him. He felt the smile more than he saw it. The darkness pressed at the back of his eyes, and he felt it slip into his own skin like it was putting on a jacket. He felt himself drifting back into his own brain as the darkness assumed control. It wrapped itself around his bones, and he felt his own lips open without his permission, and his voice spoke but he did not recognize the words. "I am here," his mouth said. Then it grinned, and he felt the cool wind on his teeth. "I am here."
  2. IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum Any other being might be surprised by their boss asking if they had a spare brain of their species lying around. "Bring me a spare Matoran skull" has a rather macabre ring to it. But the Vahki showed neither surprise nor offense. It just bowed its head slightly in acknowledgment, gears whirring. "As you wish, Barraki Aurax." With that, it left the room. The doors slid silently shut, leaving Aurax and Saybo to their machinations. OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Kal the Guardian IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Outskirts "I see," the Toa replied. She wondered what the Aspect would find. The secret they had uncovered in the ruined jungle temple was a dark and unsettling knowledge, something she never could have predicted they would discover. What other arcane mysteries were hidden across the island? Taja found herself half-wishing to stay by Whisper's side. She knew her duty was to her people, but the call of adventure was tugging at her like it never had before. "The Islets," she said. "How long has it since you've been there? Been... home?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler
  3. IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Taja considered Whisper's reply for awhile. The idea of having someone else living inside your body—moving your hands and feet, blinking with your eyes, speaking with your mouth... the thought was truly horrifying. She couldn't imagine ever letting anyone do that to her, and she couldn't see anyone else consenting either. It seemed Whisper's only viable goal was to find a way to make her current body live. To change her very being from antidermis into flesh and blood. That was impossible, according to the Aspect, but who knew? There were other temples and ruins, apparently. Other secrets still waiting in the corners of the island. Perhaps one would help the aspect on her journey towards life. The texture of the swamp slowly changed as they walked. The ground grew drier underfoot. The whirring of insects and the shrieking of Rahi grew fainter as the two travelers moved out of the lush marsh. The trees became shorter and thinner. The plant life was smaller and hardier, growing out of soil that was becoming less dirt and more sand. The air itself was less humid, and for the first time in days, Taja could breathe deeply without tasting dirt and water on her tongue. They were close to the desert. Closer to home. "So, what's our next step, then?" she asked. "After we help fortify my village and share the power we found... where will you go?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler
  4. Topic closed due to topic revival. (just kidding)
  5. IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Oreius bit back a retort to Ostrox's cynical quips. He didn't need to stand here and listen to this. If the others had decided to let the Leaguers go, then he would recognize their decision. And the sooner they left, the better. "Go, then," he said to Nale and Iradra. "I'll stay here and help rebuild. Good luck." He moved to exit the hospital, then looked back at Zaliyah one last time. He seemed about to say something, then shook his head. He pulled the door open, flooding the room with afternoon sunlight, and left. OOC: @everyone
  6. IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Shadow puppetry sounded creepy as all Karzahni. It was unfortunate that Taja only had Whisper's word that she wasn't going to try it, but what other choice did she have? The pair continued walking, then Taja spoke. "You said your wish is to be alive, right? So... why not just find some Rahi or something to possess through your..." she grimaced. "...shadow puppetry? Is it not the same?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler
  7. IC: Taja | Fau Swamp That was frustratingly logical. Dealing with Whisper sometimes felt like working with a Vahki. Take everything literally. Be helpful, but in the most obtuse way. "That's... fair," Taja said after a moment's thought. "But... please don't do it again. Unless absolutely necessary." She sidestepped a curtain of hanging vines. "Is there anything else you can do? Any other secrets you've been keeping?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler
  8. IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Hospital "If His influence affected you until only yesterday," Oreius said thoughtfully. "Then perhaps He still lives..." If the beings spoke true, then Pridak had somehow sold the sphere to Mata Nui Himself. It was a weird and blasphemous idea. Mata Nui didn't exist in any corporeal form. He was the Great Spirit, present in all things. He had no need for a body, for the universe itself was an expression of His form. it was like saying Pridak sold the Krom Sphere to the grass, the ocean, or the sky. The Toa of Fire was distracted by an odd sensation that passed briefly over his body. He felt... not stronger, strictly speaking, but tougher. It was hard to explain, and he didn't feel like explaining it anyway, so he shrugged it off and returned to the conversation. "Regardless of the truth of your story, it doesn't matter anymore. That universe is dead. If those gathered have decided to release you back to the League, then so be it." He glanced at Zaliyah. "I only ask that you do what you can to maintain this peace." OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Sparticus147 @Conway @Onaku @Tarn IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Taja was quiet for some time. She was beginning to feel the strain of manipulating the darkness. Her reservoir of elemental energy was dwindling, and she supposed it would be wise to save some in case she needed it. So she allowed the shadows around her to settle back into their natural shapes. "I see," she said at last. "It's just... every time I think I can trust someone, they show me something different." She looked sidelong at the Aspect. "You couldn't have told me before? Why keep it a secret?" OOC: @Nato the Traveler
  9. IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Oreius raised an eyebrow and waited for Ostrox to continue.
  10. IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum The Vahki beeped agreeably as it nodded in assent, then turned to lead Aurax out of the room, half-eaten croissant still in hand. If the new Barraki followed, the Vahki would lead them down the corridor to the elevator. The floors rushed by as they descended, but they stopped after only a few moments. They emerged to see a lobby staffed by another Vahki, this one blue and orange with a white Huna hanging from its neck. The two robotic beings exchanged a silent communication, then the new one turned to Aurax. "Your personal items are stored on this level, Barraki Aurax," it said mechanically, eyes unblinking. "This way, please." As they walked away from the elevator, the other Vahki took its comrade's place guarding the lobby. They turned a corner to see a large door, easily big enough for an ACR to fit through. The blue-and-orange Vahki beeped twice as it mentally communicated with the door's security system (ordinary beings would have to settle for the keypad on the side of the door), and then the door slid sideways into the wall, allowing the group to enter. Fluorescent ceiling lights snapped on as they walked into the room, illuminating a large warehouse-like space. Every surface was smooth, polished steel. Aurax's ACR stood in one corner, alongside the remains of Pridak's. The walls were hung with various weapons and pieces of armour. A long metal table divided the room, with drawers underneath it full of tools to repair equipment. There were no windows. "This was Barraki Pridak's private equipment chamber," the Vahki whirred. "It is now yours. A cargo elevator can be accessed there—" it pointed to one wall. "—and if you need anything, you can use this communication pad." It indicated a small keypad with a built-in microphone and speaker sitting on the edge of the table. "Will that be all, Barraki Aurax?" OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Kal the Guardian IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Hospital the Toa of Fire looked around for affirmation or condemnation. Is this what everyone wanted? To just let the two League soldiers leave as they wished? He took a deep breath, recognizing that it wasn't his decision anymore. "If you're leaving for Metru-Nui," he said slowly, wondering if someone else would chime in. "Then we should discuss what you'll do when you get there. Will you support Aurax's new reign?" Despite their differences, there was an unspoken and unknown similarity between Oreius and Zaliyah: neither of them trusted the newly crowned king. But were either of them willing to risk this new, unstable peace he had created? OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku @Tarn @Conway @Sparticus147
  11. IC: Tuakana | Fortress Ruins They took his hand. The poor boy's hand. And for the second time that day they emptied themselves into another. They poured their spirit through their fingers. From palm to palm. Metal to metal. Empty iron to gear and sinew, piston and flesh. Axxon became aware of an encroaching darkness like a storm on the horizon. It approached, faster than wind, and swallowed him whole. Their essence sped through his veins and into his brain. Their thoughts mingled with his. Who was Axxon? Who was this titan from another time, wielder of truth and bringer of death? Who was Tuakana? Who was this being without a body, void and hunger given form and breath? He was they, and they he. Separate, yet one. His memories were theirs, and theirs his. Together, they each realized that they had once known each other. In another time, they had spoken. They were opposites. Lies and truth. Life and death. Dark and light. But just as each day turns into night and again into day, so all things spin in a cycle that brings the past and future together. Time cannot be denied. It is a wheel ever-turning upon itself, bearing the weight of the universe, and they were brought irresistibly together. It was their doom. Even the Ark could not escape the cycle, so, of course, these mere beings could not. Even their agency was planned out for them. Their free will was written on scrolls by beings beyond time. They opened his eyes and saw the blackened sand. The silver sea. They raised a vast hand and stared in wonder. They whimpered in pain. They were two, and yet they were one. And Tuakana felt his pain, and wept. The agony of a thousand deaths ran in Axxon's blood. His titanic form shook under the weight of his own destruction. The Great Disks were merciless. Even in their sparing, there was no mercy. It was better to die than to live like this. The titan had accepted the Aspect's offer because of this pain, and now the Aspect understood. Their consciousness billowed like dark clouds, and reversed course. Back into their body. Their eyeless sight again. They mourned the loss of their oneness, but they would regain it soon. Axxon wept on the ground, begging for peace or death, whichever came faster. They would grant his wish. They always kept their word. They raised a hand, long fingers outstretched. It would be swift. The tip of each black finger was stark against the sky. Long and sharp as knives. The hand fell like lightning. Axxon gurgled. It was over. They stood for a long moment on the shore of the silver sea. Then they reached into their spirit. They summoned the deep magic from the corners of their essence. The Taboo rose from somewhere out of mind. It hung in their mind's eye like a dark fruit. Theirs to pluck. Theirs to consume. The forbidden knowledge rushed through them like lightning. They placed one cold hand on Axxon's heartlight. The other reached up towards the sky. Far beyond the island, even beyond the floating corpse of a universe, an expanse of stars glittered in the black. Like fireflies on a summer's night. Like lightstones embedded in a cave wall. Like eyes glimmering in the dark. Then one of them went out.
  12. IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro The Toa of Fire opened his mouth to angrily respond when he felt something wriggle against the base of his neck. A chill went down his spine. The hospital's battle-scarred interior seemed to recede, and he was once again on that blood-stained beach underneath a cruel sky. What good had war ever done? Had it brought back even a single life? No—Metru-Nui was still littered with the bodies of men and women he had not been able to save. He had spent his strength against the League and emerged empty-handed. Pridak had spent his strength against the Matoran and emerged with even less. The sum of all their efforts was pain and loss. As much as he wished to rain vengeance down upon the usurpers and cleanse the island with righteous fire, he knew it would not change the past. His whole life had been spent on a fruitless mission to change what he had done. To atone for his weakness. But no amount of League blood would wash him clean of sin. His transgression was bolted to his bones and married to his flesh. It could not be changed. Not by Pridak's death, nor by Aurax's. And not by the death of these two League soldiers. Would it satisfy justice? Perhaps. But maybe the soldier was right, and there was no justice to be found in war. Perhaps there was no purpose or reason that further bloodshed could uncover. Maybe there had been something more for him before the end of the universe. But his god had fallen, and his purpose had been exposed as false. Now there was only the chaos of wasted life and spilled blood in his wake, and nothing to show for it. Metru Nui was lost. The universe was lost. Everything he had ever loved or fought for was lost, except for this little village and the people struggling to survive here. If he had to abandon justice to save them, then was that not a nobler sacrifice than spending their lives on his ideals? He didn't really know, and that uncertainty chilled him to his core. For the first time in a long time, he was uncertain about his place in the universe. The rock he had stood so surely upon was washing out from under his feet, exposed as sand. How could he fight for his beliefs when he wasn't entirely sure what he believed in anymore? Too many questions, and not enough answers. When he raised his head and looked Zaliyah in the eyes, she saw that the spark of anger had gone out. The Toa's ancient eyes were softer, and when he spoke, the fire had gone out of his voice. "Yes," he said hoarsely. "We both lost. We lost everything." OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku @Tarn @Conway @Sparticus147
  13. IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Hospital Nale led the small group into the damaged hospital. Roughly half of the building had been blown apart during the League attack, but the remains were serviceable. The main doors opened into a lobby of sorts. It wasn't particularly large, but it was big enough for their group. Oreius looked around the beings in the room. He guessed that the two Leaguers had surrendered shortly after the attack, using their status as prisoners of war as a loophole to avoid being killed. It just went to show which side was honourable in this war. One side was willing to drop bombs on innocents, while the other was willing to spare even murderers if they surrendered. The Matoran, despite the fact that Pridak had tried to carry out a genocide of their people, were still willing to seek justice instead of revenge. That nobility gave him hope. These League soldiers didn't deserve mercy, but it had been given to them anyway. "So," he began, looking at Zaliyah and Ostrox. "We need to decide what to do with you two. You have carried out crimes against our people. That you still live is more kindness than you deserve." He looked at the others. "But I don't speak for Metru-Koro. If another mode of justice can been agreed upon, then so be it." OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Tarn @Onaku @Conway @Sparticus147
  14. IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro Oreius nodded at Nale's suggestion, and the newly arrived quartermaster didn't seem opposed. So they began to make their way to the abandoned hospital, doing their best to leave the curious crowd behind. OOC: @anyone who wants to come to the hospital and join the "peace talks."
  15. IC: Reliable Narrator | The Coliseum Aurax's tablet dinged as a reply came in: Yes, Barraki Aurax. According to our diagnostics, Ga-Metru is the least damaged section of the city. We will begin repairs immediately. Another ding: Construction on the pump will begin as soon as possible. It may take some time to construct a system capable of withstanding the corrosive effects of the corrupted protodermis. We will keep you updated. A third: We have sent a unit to fulfill your request. A handful of minutes passed. Outside the room, Saybo saw a Vahki trundling down the hall towards him, pushing a cart. Atop the cart sat two trays, each bearing a fresh croissant, a ramekin of bula berry jam, and a mug of gently steaming coffee. The Vahki, a red-and-green unit with a silver Ruru strung around its neck, paused in front of the door and addressed Saybo. "One of these breakfasts is for you, Barraki Saybo," it beeped. "The other is for Barraki Aurax. We request entry." OOC: @Kal the Guardian @~Xemnas~ IC: Oreius | Metru-Koro The Toa of Fire was getting sick of explaining the situation over and over again, but he supposed that was what he deserved for holding this meeting in the middle of the village instead of in private. People were getting antsy, and he could hear people whispering at Zaliyah's outburst. This wasn't the place for all this. Things could get out of control all too easily. "We move inside," Oreius said in response to Nale's question. "Out of this crowd. Somewhere we can sit down and work this out." He looked at Bronk, whose bearing and uniform suggested he was some kind of military man. "I'll explain in a moment. Is there anywhere private we can take these two—" he indicated Zaliyah and Ostrox. "—before they get mobbed?" Not that he would mind seeing them dead. But if it happened like this, people were going to get hurt. OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Toru Nui @Onaku @Conway @Sparticus147 IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Taja accepted Whisper's statement as encouragement, and continued practicing as they walked. There was still a long way to go.
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