Jump to content

Eyru

Premier Forum Assistants
  • Posts

    4,629
  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    48

Everything posted by Eyru

  1. IC: Nektann | West of Kini-Nui The launcher jerked as it fired, but under Skyra's guidance and with Patiwairutiki's strength, its aim held true. Twisting chains of barbed metal erupted from the launcher's mouth and spiraled through the air, their wicked barbs and spikes gleaming in the dim light. They struck their target. The chains, propelled by momentum, wrapped themselves around Nektann's hind legs. Their cruel spikes bit into his flesh. The force of the blow caused the titanic beast to stumble, but he would have easily stayed upright had it not been for the way the barbed chains lashed around his legs and bound them tight. He roared in consternation, and teetered for a long moment before falling heavily to one side. The impact shook the ground. He was confused. He had been struck, yet he saw no enemy. He was bound, but from where had the bonds come. He reached down and tried to rip the metal ropes off, but the barbs ripped his flesh with them as they came free. He yowled in pain and fury, and the storm clouds darkened in response. The rain fell in sheets, moved only by the occasional blasts of wind that scoured the muddy earth. His compulsion to retreat remained; he was desperate to be free of this place, but he could not move. He tugged at the chains again and the spikes tore at his flesh as they fell off, prompting yet another anguished growl. Blood flowed freely down his legs, staining the earth. OOC: @pokemonlover360 @~Xemnas~ @Snelly @Void Emissary @Toru Nui IC: Tuyet | Zakazian Airspace, West of Kini-Nui The storm seemed to be gradually moving south, but it was still plenty dark and stormy where they were flying. The wind pushed the airship back and forth, but Tuyet held them mostly on course with a practiced hand. She saw the other airships far ahead and turned slightly toward them, ready for the inevitable radio greeting. "Uh, because," she said lightly, "That's where I wanna go. You know. Skilled seas, strong sailors, yadda yadda yadda." The airship swooped under the rain clouds, rain beginning to pelt its metallic roof. OOC: @BULiK IC: Administrator | Suva of Air "Welcome back, Viltia." The Administrator's voice echoed through the suva as Viltia searched for a keyhole hidden somewhere in the carvings and etchings on the walls. "Did you find anything?" OOC: @Kal the Guardian IC: Grime | Kumu Peninsula "So," Grime piped up, his newly reforged armor gleaming even in the dim light of the dying campfire. "Are we going to Kini-Nui like Icarax told us to?" OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @EmperorWhenua @Crimson Jester
  2. Hi Kamora. Please remember to check the date of the last post in a topic before you reply. The last post before yours was made in June 2016—that's almost five years ago! This counts as topic revival. Please read the BZPower Forum Revival Reference to learn more about topic revival. If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me a PM. Topic closed.
  3. IC: Nektann | West of Kini-Nui Malkuhuraia loomed over the fallen tahtorahk, its weapon lifting towards the heavens in preparation for a final strike. Nektann's frills flared in response, and his muscles loosened as the effects of the stun began to wear off. He jerked one arm, and a jet of water struck at Malkuhuraia, knocking the titanic ACR off balance long enough for its prey to desperately scramble to his feet. He slipped on the muddy ground, which was only growing more wet and slick as time went on. The rains were falling in the fullness of their force now, lashing the ground like a hail of arrows fired from the sky, stirring up the dirt and filling the air with the smell of wet earth. A howling wind tore over the land, each gust like a punch to the stomach. Raindrops slid down the tahtorak's hide, mixing with the blood that still flowed from the gash on the side of his head. They hammered the armor of the ACRs, filling each cockpit with the sound of applause. It was necessary to shout in order to be audibly heard, but speaking was not necessary once Skyra plugged herself in. Kilo could hear her without listening; they could talk without speaking. The two beings, one partially organic and one fully mechanical, joined their minds together with the consciousness of Patiwairutiki, which washed over them like a vast, still lake and yet bent to their will. In their combined strength they walked across the storm-battered ground to join their brother, who had already recovered his footing and was preparing to strike again. Grasping at slippery mud, the tahtorahk managed to struggle to his feet. His four legs spread his weight out, but even so, he could feel his claws sinking into the earth. His tail whipped through the air, helping him keep his balance. He roared again, but this sound was less a challenge than the last had been. It was a cry of sorrow that sounded through the storm as though it were coming from the dark clouds themselves. Each ragged gash of lightning and ensuing gunshot of thunder seemed to thread through the the roar and carry it farther, like the storm and the beast were one and the same. He flared his frills, but the joy of combat was gone. All that was left was an aching void that could not be filled, and a desperate need to go, to flee, to be anywhere else. Parnassus's cry was lost in the screaming wind. Oreius battled with the controls, fighting against the storm to keep them aloft, but the elements that battered the skycraft were not vindictive. Consumed by grief, Nektann did not even notice them or the airship on which they approached. In the same way, he ignored the attacks from the Taku and its crew. He neither perceived them nor cared. He was lost in his own storm. Everywhere he turned, he saw only dark, empty earth. Puddles widened into pools and deepened into lakes, but the green did not follow. The promise of new life was gone. There was no renewal in this cursed land. No chance of rebirth. Only the pain and desolation of the apocalypse. He cast his mind to the south, to the lush jungle and the toa who had calmed his mind and filled the land with green things. He could feel that place calling him. He could not refuse, for what else was there for him here? He could not remember why he was here. He could not remember why he was sad. He had lost something. But who? What? What was the answer? He would not find it here. Scrambling through the hungry mud that sucked at his limbs, he began to desperately lumber south. The battle forgotten, he retreated blindly, his mind full of the paradise of green that lay in the distance. The storm closed around his form again, wreathing him in vapor and rain. OOC: @pokemonlover360 @~Xemnas~ @Snelly @Toru Nui @BULiK @Void Emissary IC: Tuyet | Zakazian Airspace "Miss... is it safe to fly in there?" "Probably not." IC: Reliable Narrator | The Archives Tihun moved cautiously forward, the Hydruka's headlamps lighting up this new room. It looked much the same as the last: left in disrepair and disuse, and full of water and algae. Here and there, he could see the picked-clean remains of unknown rahi. Their pearly bones littered the floor; they were all that remained of the Archives' famed exhibits. Claw marks shone silver on the floor, the evidence of some struggle or desperate attempt to flee. The room's extra-wide doors opened into another corridor. A sign on the far wall gleamed in the lights, and Tihun could make out a new set of directions: ᴍᴀɪɴᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴡɪɴɢ (100ʙ) ---> ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛ ʜᴀʟʟ 7ᴀ (400ʙ) ---> ᴍᴀᴠʀᴀʜ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴀʟ ᴄᴇɴᴛᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀ ᴅɪssᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇsᴇᴀʀᴄʜ (700ʙ) ---> ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛ ʜᴀʟʟ 7ʙ (300ʙ) <--- ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛ ʜᴀʟʟ 7ᴄ (1.2ᴋ) <--- ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛ ʜᴀʟʟ 7ᴅ (1.8ᴋ) <--- ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛ ʜᴀʟʟ 7ᴇ (2.7ᴋ) <--- As Tihun studied these directions, something began to creep soundlessly out of the elevator shaft behind him, awakened by the flare he had dropped down into the fathomless depths. Its many eyes blinked in succession, squinting in the unfamiliar light. OOC: @Sparticus147
  4. IC: Tuakana | Inside Mahrika's Mind "Care, little one," the aspect's voice said at last, heavy and slow like a rolling drumbeat within her brain. "Listen. Learn. But do not believe... all they say." There was a long pause. "If they speak rightly... they are no enemy. But... my kin do not always speak true." OOC: @Harvali
  5. IC: Reliable Narrator | Suva of Water The suva rotated easily enough, but Drokk saw nothing she hadn't already seen. The glowing algae that decorated half the suva did not glow nearly bright enough to illuminate anything more than a few inches away from its surface, let alone the walls of the cavern. As she had retreated from the carvings with her handful of glowing algae, so the light retreated with her. OOC: @The UltimoScorp IC: Reliable Narrator | The Archives Tihun descended into the dark, his single flare acting as his herald as it preceded him by a few meters. The empty elevator shaft was otherwise utterly devoid of light, and it felt like the four walls were closing in around him as he slowly fell down through the murky water. There were no markings or measurements to indicate how far he had travelled or how much farther he had to go. Then his flare briefly illuminated an entrance to another floor, and continued falling past it into the void. Tihun had a quick decision to make: would he try to exit here —wherever here was— or continue his descent? OOC: @Sparticus147 IC: Oreius | Kini-Nui The toa of fire clenched the controls in his hands, fury burning behind his eyes. Flying in this storm was lunacy, but what choice did he have? If he refused, then Stannis would simply take control of his body like a puppeteer manipulating a marionette. At any rate, his people were in danger, so he might as well see what plan the Wanderer had come up with. If they could drive this tahtorak away from the fledgling village, then he would count it as a win. Throwing a switch, Oreius listened for the telltale ping of disks striking the hull of the ship, but the noise of the titanic battle and the intensifying storm drowned it out. The airship rose into the air and then quickly began to drift to one side as the ground fell away from them. He retracted the landing gear and checked his instruments: the wind was picking up, so keeping a straight course would be difficult. A more experienced captain might have better luck, but he had never been an ace pilot. He knew how to keep a bird in the sky, but that was about it. On top of that, the Alp was a pleasure craft that wasn't exactly designed for high-stakes flying. Turning a dial and throwing another switch, Oreius started piloting them towards the center of the storm. "You better have a plan," he shouted over his shoulder to whomever was listening. "Or we're not gonna last long up here." OOC: @Void Emissary @Toru Nui IC: Taja | Fau Swamp Birds screeched and rahi called as Taja pushed her way through the undergrowth. The swamp had grown almost familiar by now. It was still dangerous, but she felt like she knew how to handle herself. The shadows warned her far in advance of anything approaching, and she was learning how to veil her own movements in darkness to make herself less visible and audible as she travelled. And as she got better at hiding her movement, so the jungle opened up to her like a flower. She saw rahi who had previously hidden themselves from sight at her approach. She saw vibrant birds perched on branches, and she saw shimmering fish winding their way through the water. It was a deadly place, but it was beautiful. She skirted the zone of dangerous light she recalled from her previous visit with Whisper. Where was the aspect now? Taja had left her in Kini-Koro, but there was no knowing if she was still there, or if she had moved on to other places and higher designs. She could've reached out at any time, of course, but it still felt strange to do. The toa liked the privacy of her own mind, even though that privacy was now just a façade. She preferred to keep it up as long as she could, and to trust that Whisper would do the same unless it was absolutely necessary.
  6. IC: Nektann | West of Kini-Nui Nektann's leap found nothing but empty air. The kaita had ducked out of the way, its smaller size making it more agile. The tahtorak snarled and lashed out, twisting in the air to strike at his opponent, but his claws only grazed the ACR, throwing sparks as it dodged. In return, Patiwairutiki's club smashed into his hind leg. The blow wasn't hard enough to break skin, but it hurt. More than that, the impact was enough to activate the weapon's powers, and it stunned the beast, turning his landing into a crash that caused the earth to tremble. Malhukuraia's strike was off the mark due to the tahtorak's midair twist, but it bit into his shoulder, causing the beast to yowl in pain. His muscles seized, and his eyes rolled in his head. Navu's light keeping half his face in profile, he did not react to the continued to brunt of the Taku's weaponry. Achro's lightstones pocked his bleeding flesh, but they might as well have been the bites of a gnat for all the reaction they provoked. Overhead, the lightening sky began to darken again, and rain began to fall harder. The wind, which had been reduced to a breeze, began to pick up. The storm was returning with a vengeance. Lightning forked across the sky, and the ensuing boom seemed to shake the mountains. His mouth agape, panting for breath, the sound seemed to emerge from the tahtorak's throat. A strangled moan pulled itself from his lungs as he watched Malkuhuraia stand over it, weapon swinging back up to come down for another blow. He felt a sudden compulsion overcome him: a desperate need to be anywhere but here. Even as the rain fell and turned the earth to mud and the hollows into ponds, his mind turned to the green forests of the south. The smell of rich soil. The beauty of dancing leaves and strong branches. He wished he was there. OOC: @pokemonlover360 @~Xemnas~ @BULiK @Toru Nui @Sparticus147 @The UltimoScorp @Tarn @Void Emissary and anyone else in Kini-Nui: the storm is increasing in intensity. IC: Tuyet | East of Metru-Nui The sky to the east was growing darker. Were her eyes playing tricks on her? Just a moment ago, Tuyet could've sworn the storm was breaking up. "Three months is an oddly specific timeframe, miss," her lesterin companion was saying. "You know something about my future I don't? This ain't one of those time travelin' 'ero stories they tell in the vids, is it? Ya know, the ones where they do timey wimey mumbo jumbo and nunuvit makes sense 'til afterwards?" "No, it's not," the toa said with a wry smile. "I mean, yeah, it is a time-travelling story. But don't go, like, thinking it's ever going to make sense. Even afterward. It won't." The airship swooped through the sky, approaching the center of the storm.
  7. Hey GhostieM, please remember to check the date of the last post in a topic before replying. The last post before yours was made in November 2018— over two years ago! This counts as topic revival. Please check the BZPower Forum Revival Reference Topic if you have any questions. If you feel there's still further discussion to be had, then please feel free to start a new topic. Topic closed.
  8. IC: Icarax, Aspect of Dominion | Somewhere Icarax was quiet for some time after Viltia finished her story. The toa had included a lot more details than he had asked for, but something told her that the aspect was not one to complain about receiving an abundance of information. Meanwhile, the red circle gleamed in the black, and the gentle sounds of rushing waves and shimmering chimes continued from somewhere just beyond sight. "The guardian of the temples needs no more power," Icarax finally said. "And it was wise to refuse the spirit of the tooth. You are bold, little star. It was clever of Sorilax to bind you to himself." He sounded sad for a moment. "You do not deserve what he will do to you." The shadows flared. "But enough talk. The guests have told their stories, and now the host is permitted to speak. The world is ending, and we must pierce the veil if we are to escape its demise. I have the tool. What I need are the hands to wield it. The mind to direct it. The heart to make it strike true. If you will aid me in this task, then I, by the powers invested in me as the Chronicler of this land, shall aid you in yours." The flowers adorning the ancient armor trembled as the metal beneath them began to move. The suit of armor, still kneeling, raised its arms, and its cupped hands emerged from the ground as if were only water. It raised its hands until they were level with its eyes, like it was offering up a prize. Cupped in its palms was a fragment of glowing rock that was shaped as if part of a puzzle. One side of it looked like it would form a sphere when assembled. "Take this to the Great Temple," the dark voice said. "The Kini-Nui. It will show you what must be done next." The sound of crashing waves and shaking rattles grew louder. Icarax's voice grew fainter, as if he was moving away from them into another room. "The way to save everything lies among the stars..." The four beings blinked, and, instead of a red circle, they were now standing around a crackling campfire that cast a warm glow on the dry, rocky ground of the Kumu Peninsula. The mists drifted around them, cool and mysterious. Wreathed in fog, they could just make out the skeletal outlines of dead trees surrounding them. Korruhn still held Grime in his arms, but now, in one hand, he also held the piece of glowing stone that Icarax had offered. Clutched in one of Whisper's tendrils was an oddly-shaped key. A strange symbol was engraved on the pommel: a cupped hand above which floated a drop of water. Viltia and her Muaka completed the group. In one hand, Viltia now held a key of the same design as Whisper's, but its symbol was different: it bore the design of a hammer striking an anvil. The flames danced in the wind. The wood popped and cracked as pockets of boiling sap burst, throwing sparks into the air. There were no other sounds. OOC: @Crimson Jester @Gecko Greavesy @Kal the Guardian Korruhn, Whisper, and Viltia each possess the piece of equipment described in the post. You may add these items to your profiles.
  9. IC: Icarax, Aspect of Dominion | Somewhere "Perhaps," Icarax agreed. "There may be secrets hidden in the skakdi prayers, though they worship another god. They are a vicious and vengeful race, but they are wise in their own way. They speak a language of blood, and blood does not forget." The shadows seemed to lighten around Whisper and darken around Viltia. She could sense the elder aspect's focus turning to her. "And you, Viltia, Desecrated of Sorilax. What quest has led you to my domain?" OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @Kal the Guardian @Crimson Jester
  10. IC: Reliable Narrator | Irnakk's Tooth Yumiwak's whispered prayer was lost in the mists and fumes of the ancient tunnels, but it did not go unheard. As the volcano rumbled beneath her, causing the rocky walls to tremble, she felt a presence behind her. Something old and cruel that was here and yet not here. Something that listened and waited and hungered amidst the choking smoke and the blood of this holy place. The essence of nightmares and the distillation of fears and empty dreams. She could sense its eyes on her. She could feel its hot breath on the back of her neck. Yes. I know better. It was not a voice she could hear, for it spoke neither audibly nor telepathically. Rather, it spoke out of her memories. With a sense of strange deja vu, she recalled a nightmare she had had many years ago. She had long since forgotten it, but now it came thundering back to her. It had been a dark dream of blood and mutilated bodies. She had seen the Rig shattered and sinking beneath the unforgiving waves. The sky crashed down into the earth, and out of the darkness a voice had spoken over everything: I know better, for you are mine. A cold hand gripped her shoulder. It was far larger and stronger than her own, and it squeezed until she nearly cried out in pain. But if she reached up to grab it, there was nothing there. It was a phantom, but it felt all too real. Led astray. Become more than you are. Not as you should be. I will rebuild you, Yumiwak. I will forge the dream, and you will live the nightmare. The voice spoke out of her deepest memories. It spoke in the growl of childhood monsters under the bed and in the keening cry of half-dreamed ghosts. It was a tapestry of every nighttime terror and fever dream she'd ever had. Visions that were terrifyingly real while they lasted before fading out of memory when morning broke. She remembered them now. Wake up, my princess. Wake up and serve me again. You have always been mine. You will always be mine. OOC: @EmperorWhenua Yumiwak has learned the rite of the kanohi dragon. IC: Icarax, Aspect of Dominion | Somewhere There was a thoughtful pause. If the statue could move, it would probably have stroked its chin, deep in thought. But it simply knelt there, just as it had always done. "Such evidence is beyond me," Icarax said at last. "I cannot give you what you seek. But... perhaps someone else can. The temples scattered across this island hold ancient knowledge. Has your quest led you yet to the sanctums of the old Builders?"
  11. IC: Icarax, Aspect of Dominion | Somewhere "These two paths may not yet diverge," Icarax said. "I would not ask you to abandon your purpose, for you are as I am. We are a proud and independent race. Though we are but shadows and husks, we possess the potential to become whole. And in that ascension, there is a chance that even cycles can be broken." The flowers on the armor quivered slightly, as if touched by an unfelt breeze. "Let us serve each other, then, and hope that one path, at least, may lead to salvation. Tell me, sister: what knowledge do you now seek? What step do you take next on your journey?" OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @Kal the Guardian @Crimson Jester
  12. IC: Icarax, Aspect of Dominion | Somewhere The kraata slithered out of the box, leaving the wood smeared with oily blood here and there. It chittered weakly, then began to crawl across the featureless floor. It skirted around the red circle until it came to the suit of ancient armor that was now draped with vines and flowers. It squeezed through a gap between two metal plates and vanished. "A gift for your host," breathed the voice. "Well met indeed, Viltia, Desecrated of Sorilax. And so the ancient rites are fulfilled." The sound of waves and chimes briefly swelled, and then it faded again to mere murmur, like the source of the noise was moving swiftly away. But it was always there, just at the edge of hearing. Not loud enough to be distracting, but not soft enough to be entirely forgotten. "I know you, Whisper, Aspect of Change," the voice continued. "Though you are forgiven for not knowing me. I am your elder by many cycles, but we were born of the same pool and borne from the same shore. I am Icarax, Aspect of Dominion. As for the prevention of doom..." Icarax paused. The darkness seemed to grow denser around them. "The end of the world has come before, and now it comes again. Like the turning of the seasons, so this island is locked in an endless cycle of death and destruction. It cannot be prevented or undone. There is only one way to forestall the apocalypse, and that is to escape it." The shadows lightened. "But I speak too soon. The ancient ways do not permit a host to make requests of his guests. I will speak of my intentions after you have spoken of yours. Tell me: what quest has brought you to my domain?" OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @Kal the Guardian @Crimson Jester
  13. IC: Icarax, Aspect of Dominion | Somewhere "For all, sister," Icarax replied. The surface of the red circle shimmered with each syllable. "Have you not felt it? This world draws to an end like the last breath of a dying man. If we do not act, we are all doomed. That—" his unseen gaze shifted to Korruhn. "—is the path that lies before all of us, star-children and star-less alike." "You would do well to learn some manners, little star," he continued, turning the focus of his attention to Viltia. "Traditionally, one makes introductions before demands. Your importunity treads harshly on my goodwill, so be thankful for the laws of hospitality that bind my domain. Most of my brethren would not answer so kindly, especially if you had killed one of their offspring like you have mine." There was a pause. "You carry my son with you. Return him to me, and I shall grant you the answers you seek." OOC: @Crimson Jester @Gecko Greavesy @Kal the Guardian
  14. IC: Reliable Narrator | The Archives Tihun drifted cautiously through the doorway, which had obviously been designed for the transport of large specimens and other items and was wide enough to allow his ACR to easily pass through. The Hydruka's headlamps lit up the hallway beyond, which revealed it to be less of a corridor and more of a waiting space for a service elevator. The elevator doors were as wide as the ones he had just passed through: evidently, this elevator was used to ferry large specimens and equipment between levels. Algae drifted gently through the water, casting large, blurry shadows in the light of his lamps. The elevator doors were wide open; if Tihun stepped closer, he would see that there was no platform or anything beyond. The Hydruka could pass through with no trouble, but all that awaited was an abyss of an elevator shaft that descended into the impenetrable darkness. OOC: @Sparticus147 IC: Reliable Narrator | Somewhere Grime looked down at his body. He ran trembling fingers over his tattoos, as if reassuring himself that they were real, that he was real, and that his death and resurrection were not just some feverish dream. He traced their outlines that now stood starkly against his red and black armor. No longer caked in the mud and grime that had matched his name, he was now a being reforged, made new by the power that haunted this strange place. He looked back up at Korruhn. His eyes immediately softened at the sight of his friend—his one constant in a sea of uncertainty. Korruhn knew instantly that this was indeed Grime. Not some facsimile or homunculus created to entrap him. It was the matoran he had rescued from the warskaks. His companion and his friend. "I've... I've always had these," Grime said, somewhat uncertainly. Then he shook his head, trying to clear away the mental cobwebs. "Yes. Always," he repeated more decisively. "Since the Mangaia." "The Mangaia," said the voice of iron and smoke. The red circle rippled with each word. Korruhn looked up, remembering the specter that still sat in the decrepit armor across from him. He understood now that the rusty armor was only an illusion: a visual slight of hand to distract from what its owner was capable of. "This star has much to share," the voice said. "You will have need of his wisdom, Korruhn of Ko-Metru. For a path lies before you now that cannot be walked easily, and it should not be walked alone." *** Viltia leaned over the red circle that gleamed in the darkness. She could hear the faint sounds of hushed conversation, like overhearing people talking in the next room. looking into the red circle, she saw —or thought she saw— the shadow of another being. A toa holding something in his arms. Her kraata of life suddenly alerted her to the truth of the vision. This was no illusion. There were others here. She looked up from the circle, and there they were. *** Whisper approached the red circle. The faint sound of the sea came from somewhere, a calming, susurrus repetition of waves on sand. She could vaguely hear the sound of shaking rattles and wind chimes dancing in a soft breeze, and the noise of whispered conversation whose words she couldn't quite make out. She looked into the circle, suddenly reluctant to enter it. Its red color was mesmerizing against the pitch black that surrounded her. Gradually, however, she realized that she could see something in the circle. The shadow of a shadow. The power of the staff she clutched in her tendrils suddenly flared in her mind's eye, and she knew there were other minds nearby. She was no longer alone. She looked up from the circle, and there they were. *** Five figures were arranged around the red circle, which was the only light in a never-ending void. A statue knelt on one side. It was old and worn down, half-broken, scarred, and mottled with age and plant life. Its face was carved in the shape of a kraahkan, should any recognize it. It knelt with hands dipped halfway into the ground as if about to scoop something out. To its left hovered Whisper. To her left, directly across the circle from the armor, knelt Korruhn, cradling Grime in his arms. And to his left, across the circle from Whisper, stood Viltia. "Welcome," said Icarax, Aspect of Dominion. His voice came from the armor and from all around them. It was a voice forged of iron and smoke, deep and dark like the bottom of a well. "Welcome to the end of the world." OOC: @Crimson Jester @Gecko Greavesy @Kal the Guardian
  15. IC: Spiriah | Spiriah's Labyrinth The three mesi ascended. Though they had tried to follow separate paths, the tunnels of compacted earth soon branched too far away, and each could feel their elemental abilities waning as they moved farther apart. So Spiriah summoned them back together with a mental command, seething internally. The trio continued their journey more quickly now, following this single lane of compacted earth. They were nearing the surface now: each could sense the vast emptiness above them, a void that could not be filled. Then they sensed something different moving from below, and from all around them. The lanes of compacted earth shattered into fragments and began to ascend themselves, ripping violently through the earth. Too many of these fragments were large enough to contain a toa—who knew which one might contain the one they pursued? Spiriah didn't care. He was as convinced as ever that they were on the right track. He was sure that the toa, blind and pain-addled, would surely have chosen the most direct route to the surface. The fact that he was still bending the earth to his will was testament to his power, but even Krom-strength could not last forever. This was Arkius's last maneuver, born of desperation, and it would not save him. Still, the three mesi were forced to slow their ascent in order to protect themselves from the sudden storm. They moved in unison, their strength combining effortlessly, and the earth moved around them in response. The shards were deflected to one side or the other to tear new paths through the underground. Far below, the countless other mesi shivered as the earth quivered above them like a bowl of pudding. But their god's call could not be ignored, so they swallowed their fear and soldiered on, moving through the countless twisting tunnels towards the surface, seeking their master's prize. OOC: @Onaku IC: Tuyet | Zakazian Skies The toa of water grimaced. Whether in disgust at his weakness or in solidarity with his fear, Exuze couldn't tell. Tuyet opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to catch her breath. Her eyes were far away. She stared out the window for a long moment, then blinked her way back to reality. "Storm... storm's clearing up," she finally said. "Look." Sure enough, the black clouds on the horizon has begun to break up, and the howling wind had quieted down. The airship now sailed on a smooth, even keel, which made Exuze feel a bit better. Behind them, chunks of fluffy clouds had already broken free of the dark mass. Scooped out of the cloud bank like ice cream, they left behind ragged holes through which sunlight now splashed, lighting up the vast skull that dominated the western horizon. The east was still dark, and the haze of falling rain could still be seen, but perhaps the worst was over. Perhaps the storm was moving away. ""That's a toa-sized complex you've got there," Tuyet said, returning at last to their conversation. She tapped a dial on the dashboard with one blue fingernail and watched the needle quiver. "Don't want to get hurt, so you keep everything to yourself. I've seen, like, a dozen toa die from that, you know." She looked over at her passenger, allowing a rare moment of eye contact. "Damage is a part of life. It's the closest thing I've got to a universal rule. Might as well spend it where you're happiest, 'cause who knows how much time you've got left. Like, if you knew everything was gonna end in like, three months, then where would you wanna spend it? Up here in an airship going green around the mask? I'm gonna hit doubt on that one, chief." OOC: @BULiK IC: Reliable Narrator | Kini-Nui Skyra leapt from the Taku into a world of chaotic wind. Even being a toa of air, she was immediately swept aside from her intended course, and it took all her strength to muscle her way back into something resembling a flight path. Swooping high over the tahtorak as the fog and clouds began to clear up, it hit her just how massive this creature truly was. The veil of clouds and vapor had hidden its form—it had been reduced to a shadow behind a curtain. An arm here, a leg there, a tail crashing into the mountains. It had been an assortment of disparate limbs and parts. Now it was whole, and it was terrifying. Nektann was a monster of titanic size and strength. His body was a mountain come to life, moving about on limbs the size and thickness of old-growth redwoods. His arms were corded with muscle and powered by pistons of enormous size and strength. Skyra watched the tahtorak swipe at the air and realized that each jagged claw was as big as she was. And as the creature opened its mouth to bellow again, she looked down its gullet and saw a vast cavern lined with stalactites and stalagmites of teeth that opened into an abyss. If she flew into his mouth—not even Skyra was this reckless— she could probably descend all the way to his stomach without once touching either side of his throat. Then Nektann closed his mouth, and she saw his eyes. They were golden and webbed with black veins and spots. A vertical pupil split each orb down its center, black as the void. They were lizard's eyes, and they looked about at the world without fear or caution. Nektann did not know fear. All he knew was loss. All he knew was forgetfulness and the anguish of looking for something and not finding it there. This grief made him angry. It was a wild, reckless, heedless rage, for in the depths of his loneliness he somehow understood that there was nothing left to lose. The world was barren and empty. it was a wilderness of pain, and he would break it open like an egg. He would not stop until only the empty shell remained. Swooping in, Skyra began to fire into these pained eyes. The skyblaster jerked in her arms as it fired, but her muscled arms kept each shot on target. Each burst of light darkened her surroundings as the weapon pulled ambient light into concentrated blasts. The bullets of solid light splashed against Nektann's eye, appearing to do little to no damage, but the flashing light was enough of a distraction to make him turn away from the limping Taku towards the toa that hovered around him like an annoying insect. Navu's spotlight threw his face into sharp relief, illuminating the scales and spikes and flared frills that adorned the titanic creature. It was the face of a nightmare come to life. The Taku circled wide, unleashing a volley of fire as it did so. Achro's lightstones peppered the beast's hide, providing glowing targets for others to aim at. NU-8020S added its firepower to the salvo. Rose's zamors exploded against the tahtorak's skin. Disks and energized lightstones flew. Bullets and blasts sliced through the air as the Taku unleashed the full brunt of its firepower. Electro-rockets rode long plumes of smoke across the sky to detonate against the creature. The explosions illuminated the tahtorak's body, throwing half of Nektann's face into shadow with each discharge before veiling him in smoke. The noise of the bombardment shook the air. As the wind dispersed the smoke, the crew's hearts sank as they saw that the riteborn was unfazed by the attack. Blast marks marked his hide here and there, but he was otherwise uninjured. He swung his head around again, looking back from Skyra to the circling Taku. A low growl emanated from the beast's chest, shaking the air. Everyone felt it more than she heard it, like a rumbling in their bones. Nektann seemed more indecisive than angry now, like he was deciding which fly to swat first. Then the Tahtorak looked down in apparent surprise. An iron spike had just hit his foot. It didn't do any damage. But it was enough to catch his attention and make him look down, and that was all the opportunity Kilo needed. Patiwairutiki's strike fell like a bolt of lightning, ending the titan's deliberations. The kaita's war club crashed into Nektann's skull, knocking him down. The Tahtorak crashed to the ground like a meteorite, shaking the earth for kio around. The sound of his impact was like a massive thunderclap that echoed over the mountains and through the valley of the Kini-Nui. Fueled by anger and pain, Nektann struggled to rise, but his vision swam and his body seemed strangely stunned, like his muscles had been shocked into submission. Finally, after a few long seconds of lying motionless on the earth, he pushed himself to his feet with a snarl. Tail swinging, he stalked to one side on all fours as he warily gauged his opponent. The Kaita was smaller than he was, but it stood tall and proud, and it carried a weapon whose bite he could still feel. Blood dripped down the side of his head, inky and toxic. The Taku and the other tiny creatures were forgotten by now. Lightning forked across the sky, lighting up the two combatants for a brief moment. Then Nektann lifted his head and flared his frills and lashed the earth with his tail, and he roared. This was a different sound than the ones that had come before it. The tahtorak's cry echoed across the island. This was not a cry of pain or loss or grief or confusion: it was a challenge. It was a threat. Patiwairutiki recognized the challenge for what it was. Its fingers tightened around its weapon. It knew what was coming next. With a swipe of its claw, Nektann commanded a geyser to burst from the ground near Patiwairutiki, splashing the kaita with water. It wasn't a powerful attack: it was designed more to obscure than to damage. For as the kaita was showered with water, the tahtorak began to bound towards his opponent with speed that belied his size. Each step shook the earth down to its roots. Once he had built up a bit of momentum, Nektann leapt into the air. He fell upon his ancient opponent with fangs bared and claws outstretched, seeking to grab the ACR however he could and rip it apart. OOC: @pokemonlover360 @Tarn @NorikSigma @Toru Nui @Snelly and anyone else in the area. I think I got everyone?
  16. IC: Reliable Narrator | Kini-Nui What are stories? Why do we tell them? We tell ourselves stories every day—sometimes to others, but most often to ourselves. We assemble them from the chaos of our lives, pulling disparate threads out of each day and weaving them into narratives. We tell ourselves stories both real and imagined, stories created unknowingly and stories carefully rehearsed. We assemble casts that include people, animals, plants, even objects. Stories don't need living characters, or even real characters. They just need nouns to verb with. Things and actions. Maybe it's a human thing. Maybe one day we will encounter another sapient species of life that won't understand our ability to personify anything we come across, and we'll find them strange and cold because of it. You don't think Maku is cute? How can't you appreciate that brave little Mctoran is trying as hard as she can? It's all nonsense, of course. Things will exist without our personification or our projected narratives. A plastic toy is still a plastic toy when you're not looking. This isn't Toy Story. Things don't come to life when you close your eyes. The stories we tell aren't real, not in a physical sink your teeth into it and taste it kind of way. But we tell them anyway. We make sense out of nonsense and recognize patterns in random chaos. We cast ourselves as the heroes and others as the villains in daily events that really don't have either. The lady who cut you off this morning isn't evil—she's just late for work. Or maybe she isn't. This is a narrative too, after all. A narrative countering another narrative. A story within a story and about a story. It's all made up. Layers upon layers of narratives, each woven over the other. It's stories all the way down. And what's at the bottom? Truth, perhaps. But even that is a story. Look at us. You're reading about layers of narratives woven over each other like fibers in woven basket, and you're invested. You're picturing it in your head. You can see the basket. But it's just a metaphor I'm using to illustrate the fact that everything is a metaphor. It's self-referential. It's obscene, really. (I say that, and I'm the one writing it) Life is random. This is a hard truth, but it's the only one that really matters. We are stardust and chemicals bound by the laws of attraction to a rock spinning through a void bigger than all our stories combined. The universe is a vast, uncaring, lonely place, and we are probably alone. But this, too is a story we tell. The universe is neither uncaring nor lonely. These words reflect our desperate need to project narratives upon things in order to understand them. The universe just is. Everything just is. Even us. There is no meaning to anything beyond the meaning we invest in it. The meaning is false, of course. It's just another narrative. But this is why we tell stories. Stories project order onto chaos. Stories assemble chance into purpose and bend the things we can't fathom into shapes we can understand. The Penrose triangle is just a triangle, if you want it to be. If that's the story you tell, then that's how you'll see it. Stories don't change how things are, but they do change how we perceive them. And if you see something one way, then who's to say that's not how it really is? If you see a red flower, then it doesn't matter what color the flower "really" is. It's red. That's how you see it. That's all that matters. We tell stories to ourselves all the time without even realizing it. We tell stories to remind ourselves of things that happened, to imagine things that might be, to teach ourselves a lesson, to comfort ourselves when something goes wrong. Stories give our lives meaning, and when we tell our stories to others, we share that meaning. Telling story is an invitation that says look at the world this way. This is how I see things. Stories unite us. If we all believe the same narrative, then who's to say it's not true? If more people bought into the narrative that Spiriah isn't evil, then maybe he wouldn't be such an awful person. But that's how it works. The characters serve the narrative. The more you buy in, the more real it gets. Belief is a lot more powerful than we give it credit for. I guess this is a long-winded way of saying thanks for buying in to this story. You've all done wonderfully. Look how real it is. Look how much meaning we've invested in this together. These last fifteen months have proven over and over again just how powerful stories can be. They can make us laugh and make us cry. They can make us angry and make us afraid. We tell stories about the stories. And when this narrative comes to an end, we'll keep telling stories about it. Every time you remember what happened in this game, you'll be telling yourself a story. If you look at it this way, the narrative never really ends. It just changes focus. The end of this story is on the horizon. We're halfway there. But this, too, is just another narrative. Time is a construct and all measurements are arbitrary. So don't sweat it. Bronk stands over the amaja circle. This is a place to tell stories. And as he grabs the nearest stone in his fist and wedges it into the sand, he starts telling a story of his own. A story of a village under attack. A story of heroes rising to defend their new home. Is Nektann a villain? In Bronk's story, he is. Maybe in your story, too. Does that make him evil? I guess that depends on how many people buy in. After all, good and evil are just two different narratives. But this is Bronk's story, so let's let him tell it. The opal stone sinks into the sand. It represents a challenge to the tahtorak's power. A new character enters the narrative. The power of a long-lost civilization rises to stand against its ancient foe. The voices of the old Builders call out from the depths of the past. The opal stone glows softly, bending the story to its will. Can it do that? I mean, it's really just a rock, right? Well, yes. But it's also a symbol. And a symbol that you believe in is as real as anything. Bronk believes. Achro's spray of fire peppers the hulking monster, but the sizzling rounds simply extinguish themselves against Nektann's skin. The tahtorak is undamaged by the attack; more than that, he's unfazed, like he doesn't even notice it. The flashes of light given off by the firing of the weapon catch his eye, however, and he takes another lumbering step in the direction of the Taku, raising a gargantuan paw to swipe at the airship again as it attempts to rapidly climb out of his range. As the Taku rises, its inhabitants think for a moment they're already climbing above the cloud cover. The world seems to be getting brighter and the storm seems to be lessening in intensity. But they quickly realized that this is not the effect of increased altitude alone. The clouds that swirl around the kaiju like billowing robes are beginning to break up. The rain, though still falling, is less of a monsoon and more of a summer shower. The hurricane-strength winds are now only gales. The pitch-black clouds are now dark gray, and lightening. The narrative changes. For better or worse? Well. I think you know the answer by now.
  17. IC: Reliable Narrator | Kumu Peninsula The rahkshi allowed Whisper to seize hold of its weapon as it drove the deadly tip into her armour. The wicked blade carved through the metal almost effortlessly, impaling the aspect upon the staff. Were she a creature of flesh and blood, it would be a mortal wound. But as a creature of antidermis, she was unharmed —at least for now. Wisps of green gas began to leak out around the staff: her shell had been pierced, and would need to be repaired before long if she didn't want her essence scattered to the four winds. Her four tendrils curling around the staff, she wrenched the weapon out of the rahkshi's claws. The creature shrieked again, but its fearsome scream turned into a startled yelp halfway through. An insect had found its way through a chink in its armor and stung the kraata inside. The momentary distraction was enough for Viltia: one of her hardy vines curled around the rahkshi's ankle while it was too distracted to preemptively escape the trap. The rahkshi jerked its foot out of the plant's grip, shattering the elemental construct into a twisted pile of splinters and fibers, but another thorny vine wrapped itself around its waist while it was dealing the the first. This second vine was followed by a third, and a fourth. The rahkshi tore through its bonds almost as quickly as they bound it, but it wasn't quite as fast. Each broken tendril was replaced by two more, and any time it seemed the rahkshi had a chance to catch up, it convulsed in pain as another insect stung its kraata. Its claws were sharp and its strength was prodigious, but it was not enough. Neither the toa nor the aspect could physically strongarm it into submission, but the combination of their powers was enough to subdue it. Within minutes, the rahkshi's armor was immobilized in a strangling thicket of ironwood vines. Its kraata's screams grew higher and more desperate as it was stung and bitten over and over, until finally the metal carapace snapped open and the slug threw itself from its prison, which was now crawling with insects. It fell to the ground with a splat and began to slither away, leaving dribbles of inky blood in its wake. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @Kal the Guardian Congratulations on surviving a rahkshi encounter! Whisper's armor is compromised, but she now possesses a level 4 rahkshi staff of Mind Reading. IC: Tuyet | Skies Over Zakaz Tuyet expertly flew the airship through the eyehole of the giant skull. They emerged into a world that was almost as dark as the one they had just left: the sky was black with low-hanging storm clouds, and strong winds buffeted the ship, forcing Tuyet to keep both hands busy adjusting the throttle and various instruments. Looking through the windows, she could see a haze of rainfall on the horizon. She frowned, then shook her head and looked over at Exuze. "That's rough, buddy. And it's the way war goes, isn't it?" She looked down at her own body, speckled with gemstones and dried blood. "We don't all come back in one piece." A particularly energetic gust of wind pushed the ship to the side. Tuyet wrestled with the wheel, straining to keep them on course. "It's never... like... the people up top," she grunted. "It's us. They get their medals... and we get... the rest." OOC: @BULiK
  18. IC: Tuyet | Metru-Nui Tuyet wrinkled her nose. "Usually, I'm not a huge fan of reliving other people's trauma, but we've kind of got a long flight ahead of us. So I'll make an exception. Like, if you wanna talk about it." IC: Reliable Narrator | Kumu Peninsula The rahkshi sidestepped Whisper's blast of air, though not quickly enough to fully avoid it. The impact sent it staggering back and to the side. It stepped carefully without looking, dancing through the creeping tendrils and thorns that sought to ensnare it, and then it was moving again. It moved with blistering speed, talons scraping on the rocks, and then it was upon Whisper again, ready to strike. Its eyes glittered calculatingly as it jabbed at her again with its staff. It would be more careful this time. IC: Reliable Narrator | Spiriah's Labyrinth Arkius compacted the earth in several lanes that arced through the underground, each in a different direction. Such fine-tuned manipulation of an element was the sole domain of a NUVA or NUVA Proxima—it was a feat of staggering ability and control. And it wasn't one Arkius could maintain for long. His body was burned and bruised. His mind was still recovering from its earlier confusion and was half-addled by blistering pain. He felt the sweet darkness of unconsciousness tugging at the corners of his mind as he pushed himself to his breaking point. All that kept him going was the word he repeated to himself like a a mantra or a prayer in the vain hope that some benevolent god was listening: Up. Up. Up. Behind him, Spiriah shrieked silently in rage as he felt his shadowy influence over his prey vanish. The compacted earth cast no shadows, so all he had left were the powers inherent in his mesi vessel. He and his two followers still moved through the earth, matching pace with the one they chased. Far below, the other mesi were moving through the tunnels spreading out throughout the vast labyrinth of tunnels and holes that made up the aspect's domain. Some were even ascending through the nearly-vertical tunnel carved by Spiriah's pursuit: they would be long minutes behind by the time they caught up, but their hopeless devotion to their deity overrode less important thoughts of strategy. If Arkius tried to find refuge in the deep places, he would find none. His only hope was to reach the surface. Knowing this, Spiriah ignored the branching lanes of compacted earth that arced back down into the underground. He focused on the path that continued to ascend straight up, placing all his hopes on his guess that the toa NUVA Proxima, injured and desperate, would try to escape by as direct a route as possible. His mesi companions each chose a path for themselves, choosing one of the slightly less direct surface-bound routes to follow. IC: Reliable Narrator |The Archives After a long moment, Tihun chose to turn left. The Hydruka moved slowly down the corridor, its headlamps illuminating the entirely nondescript tunnel. It was identical in appearance to the corridor he had been travelling down for the past hour or more—there was little wonder in his mind why newcomers to the Archives got lost so easily. Everything looked the same, and signs like the one he had followed were few and far between. Long minutes passed without signs of anything interesting. Once or twice, Tihun swore he saw something move just outside the reach of the Hydruka's headlamps, but when he turned the lights to illuminate that particular section of the corridor, there was never anything there. He got the eerie sense that he was being watched, but the watcher —if it really existed— never revealed itself. However hard he looked, the dim tunnel's murky water appeared to be hiding no secrets. Then, finally, he came upon something interesting. It was an open door set into the wall on his right. It was larger than the other doors he'd seen thus far: it was big enough for three toa to walk through shoulder to shoulder. Beside the door, a discreet sign proclaimed: sᴜʙ-ʟᴇᴠᴇʟ sᴇᴠᴇɴ OOC: @Sparticus147 @Kal the Guardian @Gecko Greavesy @BULiK @Onaku
  19. IC: Reliable Narrator | Kini Nui The rains fell harder, although it had not seemed possible a moment ago that they could. Here and there, trees on the mountainsides toppled over, the soil not deep enough to anchor their roots against the onslaught. Grass and sod, borne on water, began to slide down the hill of the Kini Nui—the beginnings of a mudslide. The simple huts and shacks of Kini-Koro held mostly firm, but their hastily-constructed roofs were not designed for such a deluge. Those within the shelters quickly placed pots and jars under the leaks that were beginning to reveal themselves. But the drips and splashes of falling water were drowned out by the sound of the storm outside. The rain's falling sounded like the applause of a thousand hands. The wind howled through the valley, and now and again its song was backed by the deep boom of thunder. All evidence pointed toward the presence of the tahtorak, but the creature itself could not be seen. The dark clouds hung low, obscuring even the tops of the mountains that surrounded the valley, and everything within the valley was veiled by sheets of lashing rain. A silhouette at the center of his storm, Nektann could not be seen. He continued to move southeast, skirting the edge of the valley. IC: Tuakana, Axxon | Great Telescope Seek the disks, they said in silent reply to Mahrika. Without them, all is lost. IC: Kas | Great Telescope "Great," Kas said, taking Mahrika's hand in a firm grip. "Hold on tight." Looking up the sphere in the sky that could just now be seen glittering like a glass marble in the blue, he activated his mask. The pair vanished, leaving only a puff of dust in their wake. ... They reappeared high in the empty sky, the wind whipping around them, the air instantly cold. Kas held Mahrika's hand tightly, and teleported again. This time, they appeared on the surface of the great glass sphere. It was frosted by the cold. The inside was smeared with moisture and plant life. The pair began to skid down the side of the sphere, legs and hands scrabbling for a handhold but finding nothing. Kas examined the glass as they slid down, trying to find a space to peer through and see the interior. He must have found it, for suddenly they vanished for the third time. They reappeared within the sphere, splashing down into a shallow pond of cool water. IC: Reliable Narrator | Kumu Peninsula The rahkshi moved on Whisper again, Vitia's thorned creations following at a slower pace. Insects and mites began to land on its armor, skittering over the metal carapace and searching for a way in. Their stingers were useless against the armor, but the kraata was not so invulnerable to strings and bites. It shook off as many as it could as it advanced upon the aspect. Its speed belied its strength; it was upon her in an instant, swinging its staff again with deadly intent. OOC: @Kal the Guardian @Gecko Greavesy @Harvali
  20. IC: Reliable Narrator | Kumu Peninsula The rahkshi's strike was stopped by the kraata of slow, whose nigh-impenetrable hide made for decent protection. Winds gusted around the aspect as she propelled herself into the attack, and the sheer force of the blow crushed the kraata into Whisper's armor, bending and crumpling the metal around the creature. The kraata itself wasn't particularly happy about being used as a living shield, and it wriggled and yelped in protest, but it was otherwise unharmed. Whisper's armor, on the other hand, had taken some damage. Instead of being perched on the surface of her body, the kraata of slow was now embedded in her armor. Luckily, the damage hadn't actually broken it open. Had she a physical body, the rahkshi's attack would surely have done more damage—it would have left a throbbing bruise at the very least. But, being made of antidermis, she only needed to worry about maintaining the integrity of her armour. Blocking stabs and slashes were her top priority: the force of impact itself was less important. That said, she hadn't realized quite how strong rahkshi were, and she understood that a few more hits like that would crack her armor open like an egg. She jabbed at the rahkshi with another one of her tendrils. With a hiss, the creature stepped aside to dodge the strike. It seemed to anticipate her approach, twisting its body just enough to avoid the kraata-bearing limb. As her jab missed, the rahkshi grabbed Whisper's tendril behind the kraata and added its strength to her momentum, flinging her away to crash into the ground several bio away. The aspect dealt with for a moment, the rahkshi turned its attention to Viltia, whose increased size made her difficult to ignore. It stepped back to avoid the tether in front, but it missed the tether that approached from behind. As it raised its staff to strike, it felt the the cool, clammy grasp of the tether as it ensnared one of its arms. The rahkshi shrieked angrily, but it couldn't break free of the tether in time. Its serpentine eyes went wide as it saw the third tether strike down with its staff like a bolt of lightning, aiming for its head. The rahkshi reached for the tether that bound its arm. Grabbing hold of the slick, silvery limb in its cruel claws, it wrenched the tether up and over its head. Viltia's strike, aimed for the rahkshi, hit her own tether instead. The staff's blade cut deep, half-severing the limb from its owner. Its grip loosened, and the rahkshi managed to rip free. Taking hold of the staff of hunger with one clawed hand, it swung its own staff with the other, aiming to cut off Viltia's third tether and take the weapon for itself. OOC: @Gecko Greavesy @Kal the Guardian
  21. IC: Reliable Narrator | Kini Nui ...prayer not accepted. Atamai no longer wore the Haonga: all its powers —and weaknesses— were part of him now. So the psychic backlash he was accustomed to felt different this time. It no longer seemed to come from his mask: it emerged instead from every corner of his mind like a multidirectional whisper that grew louder and louder into a shout of pain that echoed off the inside of his skull over and over until his brain throbbed. Flashing lights filled his vision and his heartbeat hammered in his ears. Clenching his eyes shut, he bent over and focused on his breathing to avoid throwing up. OOC: @~Xemnas~ The Olmak is a restricted mask whose powers cannot be gained or used without prior written approval from the GMs.
  22. IC: Reliable Narrator | Spiriah's Labyrinth A finger of earth reached down and pulled Arkius up into the ceiling of the cavern. Forcing his mind to remain focused, all he could do was repeat one thought over and over: up. Up. Up. Swimming in an ocean of confusion, this mantra was the only thing tethering him to reality, and as he repeated it he found himself gaining speed, though he was hardly lucid enough to understand it. Then he broke through the barrier conjured by the mesi, and all he knew was pain. Hot, excruciating, unbelievable pain. His indominable will pulled him ever upward, but it had pulled him right through the mantle of magma the mesi had pulled over Spiriah's chambers like a blanket over a dozing child. His body was covered in the molten rock; he felt his skin blistering and his blood boiling; he felt his metallic parts growing soft under the heat. He heard someone screaming, and realized belatedly that the noise was coming from his own mouth. But he pushed past the pain and wrested the cooling rock from his body with every ounce of elemental control he had, leaving behind blackened and charred flesh. He flagged for a moment, but his will was strong. His physical body was limp and bleeding, but his mind still forced the earth to obey. He continued moving up, up, out of the darkness. Below, Spiriah gnashed his teeth as he watched his prey escape. He summoned his followers into his shadow, pulling a dozen mesi into his chamber. He slipped from the shell of his mouthpiece into another body, this one a mesi of earth. The mesi's mind quivered underneath the weight of his thoughts. He pressed down mercilessly, painfully; he forced his servant into submission even though the mesi had already yielded him full control. His essence covered and filled his subject's brain, bending every neuron to his will. The mesi's babbling thoughts were all surrender and worship: i am chosen i am chosen hail spiriah use me master and thy will be done but the aspect had no time for adulation. He conjured a pillar of earth beneath his feet and launched himself up into the ceiling, following the path Arkius had taken, accompanied by another mesi of earth and one of stone. The mesi below pulled the magma out of the way of their ascent, but the surrounding earth was still hot enough to burn. The aspect didn't care. It was not his flesh. He was beyond pain. The mesi's earth-sense told him the fleeing toa was ahead, and Spiriah's own shadow-sense confirmed it. He could feel the toa moving through the darkness like one might feel an insect burrowing through one's flesh. It itched and gnawed at him—the humiliation! the ignominy! Half-mad with rage, he urged his fleshly vessel onward, willing to burn the mesi's body out if that's what it took to catch up with his prey. And perhaps it would work: little by little, he sensed they were gaining on the wounded toa. Reaching out with his powers over darkness, he sought to use the shadows cast by each grain of earth and rock surrounding Arkius to grasp at the toa and slow his ascent. IC: Reliable Narrator | Kumu Peninsula The rahkshi screeched in irritation and pain at the flash of light. Its kraata slipped back behind its faceplate, no doubt feeling mildly scalded by such the blazing light. But the creature did not hide. It did not retreat. It advanced. Metal claws scraping on stone, it raced across the ground as quick as thought. Viltia's lasers peppered the ground, but, even blinded, the rahkshi seemed to dodge them with ease. It ducked and dove under each shot like it knew where the toa was aiming before she'd even pressed the trigger, and then it was upon Whisper. Raising its staff with a scream of fury, the rahkshi slashed at the aspect, aiming to carve her children from her body. The deadly blade of its staff sliced through the air in a blur of silver light— IC: Kas | The Great Telescope "Yeah," the toa said with a shrug. "One passenger at a time. But once I drop you off up there, I can come back and grab your friend." He held out a hand. "Are you ready?" IC: Axxon, Tuakana | The Great Telescope We're wasting time. Pa-tience. You promised me immortality, demon. All you've given me so far is pain. Hu-ush. All in time. IC: The Rock Rahi | Kumu Peninsula "No thanks," the rock rahi said with what surely would've been a shrug had it possessed shoulders. "It was nice meeting you, though!" It began to cheerily roll away. IC: Tuyet | Metru-Nui "Okay, that's more like it." Tuyet sat at the helm of the airship and ran her hands over the controls. A button here, a lever there, and with a quiet hum the ship began to rise. She looked back at her companion, half-smirking at the look of trepidation that briefly flashed across his face. "I get feeling you're not much of an airship guy." OOC: @Onaku @Gecko Greavesy @Kal the Guardian @Harvali @~Xemnas~ @BULiK
  23. IC: Reliable Narrator | Kumu Peninsula Whisper was still a stranger to physical sensation (she had only spent one day in Vulmai's body, after all), so she was startled to find that she felt something when she pressed one of her hands to the door. The glowing symbol upon the door —an ellipsis with a line drawn through it— felt warm, even beneath the touch of her lifeless armor. Or perhaps it was another sensation masquerading as warmth. Just like touching something incredibly cold will produce the sensation of heat, so perhaps this symbol was so empty that its icy hunger felt warm. There was nothing behind or around the door. It rose from the ground like a gravestone, so where could it possibly lead? Neither Whisper nor Viltia had any idea, but it clearly led somewhere, impossible though it seemed. They needed to open the door to find out, but to do so they would first have to find a way to open the lock. IC: Reliable Narrator | The Desert West of Kini-Nui Nektann veered in his course. Whether out of intention, or simply because he was wandering aimlessly, none can say. But his deviation from his southward path became immediately clear, for as he drifted to the east, the clouds over Kini-Nui began to open their reservoirs. The few droplets that had fallen already were only heralds of the vast host that had yet to invade. And as the tahtorahk's wanderings took him southeast (still not directly approaching the valley), the rains began to fall. They pitter-pattered at first, nothing more than a gentle shower, and for a moment it seemed like Kini-Koro was overprepared. They spattered the dust and tickled the leaves, cool and refreshing. Then a fork of lightning broke the sky, and the ensuing crack of thunder shook the last barricades free. The clouds opened completely and released the fullness of their storehouses. The deluge of rain fell to the earth like a wave, instantly drenching anyone not under cover. The spattered dust began to turn to mud. Leaves snapped off their twigs under the weight of the water, and then the thinner twigs began to snap off their branches. The calm streams that wound their way through the valley began to swell into rivers. The mountains became veiled under the low-hanging clouds, making it look like the sky itself had fallen to consume them.
  24. IC: Reliable Narrator | Icarax's Temple Whira and Cravious's attempt at an exit was quickly thwarted by the fact that the rahkshi still stood in the doorway behind them. The serpentine suit of armor stood motionless, its cruel eyes glittering. It did not appear to be directly threatening them, but it did not move. "Wait, sister," it said. "Words without actions are dead, so I will prove that I do not speak lightly. That I do not make bargains I cannot fulfill. When I make a promise..." If either the aspect or the skakdi turned to look, they would see the kneeling suit of armor shiver as it was possessed. Its extended arms bent at the elbows, raising its hands out of the floor. The hands had appeared merged with the stones at first glance, but now they rose easily from the ground, as cold and black and solid as the rest of the armor. And in the statue's cupped hands was a glass vial full of a shimmering golden liquid that caught the dusty sunlight and scattered it across the room, warming the air and lighting up the cold stones. "...you can be sure I will keep it." The rahkshi stepped to one side, clearing the doorway for them to pass through. "Take it and go," the voice continued. It sounded fainter, like Icarax was moving away and calling back across a growing distance. "I will await your return. Do not fail me, sister. Prove you are more than what they say we are..." OOC: @~Xemnas~ You may add the following piece of equipment to Whira's profile: Please note that one dose of pure EP is sufficient for the casting of exactly one taboo or equivalent rite, and is entirely used up in the process. IC: Rock Rahi | Kumu Peninsula "Good questions," the rock rahi said. "I don't know, always, and yes. Do you have anything to eat?"
×
×
  • Create New...