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Pteronura Brasiliensis

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About Pteronura Brasiliensis

Year 12
  • Rank
    Energy From A Star
  • Birthday 12/13/1996

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    Somewhere, probably.
  • Interests
    Food. Lots and lots of food.

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  1. i'm just here for the oysters and tuna* at this point, the rpg moves when it will *okay and the friends too
  2. IC: I'd been busy in Ihu-Koro, constantly kept running around as one of the few medics or healers available. Thankfully, my mask made quick work of most of the wounds I was treating; I couldn't afford to return anybody back to full health and strength, of course, not with just how many there were that needed healing, but I could set them far enough along the path that they would be able to be active and ambulatory again. Even trying to conserve my own strength as much as possible, though, it was wearing down on me quickly. Using Kanohi didn't have the same drain as using my element or fighting a battle, but maintaining such high focus for so long was rapidly draining what mental energy I had left. While I was walking from one patient to the next, I heard someone else calling for a healer. Everybody here needs a healer, I thought. Uncharitable, overly grumpy, but true nonetheless; it took a few moments for my tired mind to actually recognize the voice. I'd only heard him a short while before, but the image of Dekhaz running off back towards Ko-Koro to rescue Krayn quickly came to mind. I picked up my pace, coming out to where they were; one other Toa was already bent over the unconscious and wounded Toa of Sonics, channeling her energy into him. I picked up to a jog, dropping beside them quickly and inspecting the damage. He was pale—far, far too pale for just the cold to be what was causing it—and one shoulder was completely mangled, dried and frozen flecks of blood still around the wound. Everything else was fairly moderate; cuts and gashes all around, minor frostbite of the extremeties, bruising from the madu that had exploded near him. That all I felt comfortable letting the other Toa handle. I quickly spied the cauterization that had been done within the wound as well. It was messy, such emergency measures often were...but, despite my own disliking of such meatball surgery and battlefield medical practice, it was likely the only reason Krayn had made it back alive. "Focus on the rest of it," I told the other Toa. "This shoulder is probably going to take everything I can give." I raked the wound with one hand, making sure that there was no continuing outward bleeding. Thankfully, he didn't start spurting blood out of the wound; however, given how deep it seemed to be, there might still be some internal bleeding. Just meant I had to work quickly. I laid both of my hands over the wound, my mask quickly flaring with light. It was always odd, both seeing and feeling the process of healing, something that should take many months, happening in moments right in front of me. Flesh growing back and closing together, severed and cauterized blood vessels reconnecting and a pulse beginning to force blood through them again; torn ligaments and tendons snapping back into place, drawing the mending bone with them. Witnessing the shifting of tissues further past the entrance wound, as the inward damage was quickly repaired as well. I had likely poured too much into it. Despite not knowing him very well, or having actually fought alongside him very long, I put more of my energy into repairing his wounds than I had for the others. Perhaps it was because of his efforts to liberate my home, or something to do with his being a guardsman of some sort, like myself; it might also have been, after having seen many of my former allies either die or drift apart, due to my wish not to allow such things to happen again. As things were, by the time I was finished, Krayn's shoulder was nearly the perfectly un-harmed joint it had been before. The glow of my mask died down, my vision blurring for a moment; when I forced my eyes to focus again, I noticed that my hands were shaking. I didn't even want to think about how much else would be. "I think I'm done for the day," I mumbled to nobody. "Too much. That wound was ghastly." OOC: @Krayzikk @25K Now! @Snelly @Silvan Haven @sunflower
  4. IC: I had quickly turned and started to move towards Cyrix, but before even getting close to the man it was obvious that his injuries were bad enough I couldn't do much more than stop the bleeding with the mask. Just as I finished doing that much, Krayn whistled out to us all. Just the news I didn't want to receive; it was time for us to run, with a member of the group who wasn't easily capable of doing such. "I hope they aren't broadheads, too," I replied to him. "That would prove rather problematic for all of us." I put Cyrix's arm around my shoulders, so that I could support his weight. With the two of us in the middle of the group, we'd be as well protected as possible—which would be necessary, with neither of us really being in shape to fight with what we were doing. "If you feel like your leg is giving out too much," I said to him, "Let me know. I'll carry you up over my shoulders like they do in the Ta-Koro guard." I really hoped that wouldn't have to happen. I was probably the smallest Toa in the group, after all.
  5. IC - Ikilwa - New Atero: Before Ikilwa was able to offer his own name in return, his eyes were drawn upwards. The airship that had been floating calmly now seemed much less calm, and even from the ground quite a bit of movement was noticeable around it. As Temujin spoke up, Ikilwa nodded. "Nothing good," he rumbled in reply. He forced his eyes back down, and started walking again, a hand on Temujin's back making sure he would continue as well. "Name's Ikilwa." He fell silent again for a few steps, before speaking up once more. "We should check that out after we deliver your news."
  6. IC—Ikilwa—New Atero: "Makes more damage," Ikilwa grunted. "Pull it out and stuff comes with it." He continued walking along, ignoring the pat on the back. If the man didn't at least sound fairly lucid, he'd have been a bit more worried about his mental state. He still felt that the man's brain seemed a bit sun-fried, but whose didn't on this blasted planet? He'd still watch him just in case. First, though, they had to figure out what to call each other. "Name?" he asked after a moment.
  7. IC—Ikilwa—New Atero: This man has spent too many days alone in the desert. That thought, however, Ikilwa kept to himself. Instead, he nodded along as the Glatorian spoke. Ikilwa was certainly well-acquainted with how annoying a spear could be to pull out of a body it'd been shoved too far through. Especially if it was a barbed spear. "Push it through next time," he advised. "Easier than pulling it out." At least he didn't actually seem to be a bounty hunter. He still seemed...off, though. Especially giving a random stranger the invitation to join him and calling them friend. I should at least make sure he doesn't hurt himself or anybody else. Ikilwa nodded once in reply to the Glatorian's question. "Let's go."
  8. IC - Ikilwa - New Atero Outskirts: Ikilwa glanced over at the man who landed next to him, waiting for the engines to wind down before speaking. Of course, by that point, the man had opened up the cargo hatch on his own vehicle, and a somewhat familiar odor wafted out. Even as accustomed to it as he was, Ikilwa couldn't keep from wrinkling his nose once it hit his nostrils. He closed the hatch on his own transportation, hiding the large club that was nestled within, before fixing his gaze on the Glatorian rummaging around a short distance away. "What stinks?" he asked, growling the words out around his twisted facial muscles. Thus far, all he could get a glimpse of was some sort of coat, though certainly quite dirty. Ikilwa's eyes narrowed beneath his helmet. Bounty hunters. Can't stand their slime.
  9. IC - Ikilwa - New Atero Outskirts: "What do you mean you won't go snap his arm for me? He owes me money, and I'm paying you to teach him to pay it back a little faster." "I'm not some gutter trash bruiser. Do it yourself or find somebody else." "Oh, sure, the mercenary with a code of honour. How's a Skrall like you expect to find work with an attitude like that, eh?" Ikilwa glanced back at the Vortixx's sneering face. Even some of the more unsavoury of the Matoran universe had quickly picked up on the general distaste everybody held for Skrall, and they would use it as much as possible. Everybody had to be better than somebody else. "I don't recall asking for your insults," he replied flatly. When the Vortixx moved to speak again, Ikilwa's gauntleted fist came down on the table between them... Promptly crashing right through it, sending splinters raining to the floor. "Nor," he continued, "Am I impressed by your arrogance or your attempts to elevate yourself over me. Find someone else to be your thug. And save your blustered threats," he commanded, his glare silencing the Vortixx instantly. "If you do send whoever you hire after me next, I'll be happy to educate them—and yourself—on just how poor of a decision that will have been." The large warrior turned on his heel, leaving the hut quickly and returning to the open space outside. In years past, the words of the Vortixx would have left him seething with rage. His temper had long since cooled, however; millenia worth of insults would harden anybody. So he continued placidly along until reaching the area where he'd left his Rockoh, fumbling around in the small cargo hatches on it. There wasn't much left in there by way of rations, and even less in terms of money. If he couldn't find some more work soon then things might get difficult; still, he'd always managed to pull through in the past. The present wouldn't prove any different.
  10. Changed it to a Midak Skyblaster instead. although if we want to liken it to real life, your goal is always to avoid the missiles with your plane, because you can't take a hit from them, but anyways
  11. Character: Name: Ikilwa Species: Skrall Gender: Male Powers: Greater strength and agility than average Skrall and Glatorian, due to being one of the "special forces"/elite warrior class of Skrall. Gear: Heavy armour (spikes long since ground off), simple thornax launcher, Skrall saw-blade shield, basic longsword. Hidden within his craft he has also stowed away his old thorned club as a backup weapon. Personal Aircraft: The Baterra Allegiance/Role: Unaligned Appearance: Other than having ground the spikes off his armour many years ago, Ikilwa looks nearly the same as any other of the elite warrior Skrall. Stocky and muscular, with a body crossed by a patchwork of scars; thanks to the events of other Skrall in years past, he is generally considered a somewhat fearsome sight. Personality: Ikilwa is extremely quiet and reticent in general, communicating with others mostly in the form of gestures and grunts. While this plays into his general character fairly well, he is still quiet with those he considers friends. This is due also to the fact that he has a very noticeable Rock Tribe accent trying to speak either Matoran or Agori; in his mind, the accent makes him sound dull and untrustworthy, and being very stubborn and prideful, he prefers to be silent rather than sound unintelligent or deceitful. One of the few exceptions is when he's so profoundly annoyed with a person that he just doesn't care what he sounds like around them, in which case he's far more likely to speak than normal. Combined with his stubbornness and pride, Ikilwa has a highly developed opinion on what he considers honourable conduct. A veteran of the Core War for the Rock Tribe, he earned his name during that time; however, his name was later stricken from Skrall records. During the time after the Shattering, Ikilwa felt that the Skrall were conducting themselves dishonourably, and he chose to abandon them and strike out on his own rather than sully himself by continuing to associate with them. As such, he generally gets along with Agori and their allies better than with other Skrall...though given how poorly he gets along with both groups, that isn't saying much. Bio: A former member of the Rock Tribe and a veteran of the Core War, Ikilwa was a member of the Skrall special forces, and earned his name through the many daring raids he undertook on behalf of the tribe or their sometimes-allies. More individualistic than other Skrall were, he quickly began to develop his own opinions that differed from those of the leader class; this led to strain when the main part of the tribe was ready to leave the female Skrall behind on their migration south, an action that Ikilwa felt was extremely dishonourable, despite the strained relations the two genders of the species had with each other. Begrudgingly, however, he followed Tuma's commands, heading to Roxtus with the others. However, what occurred afterwards—enslaving Agori and Glatorian, mistreating the Vorox and Zesk, and the plans for the conquest of the other tribes—were too much for Ikilwa to stand. He left the tribe, making his way to the others out in Bara Magna. While never hired on as a Glatorian, he did eventually manage to find work as a mercenary, generally being hired to guard caravans. During this time, he ground the spikes off of his armour, finding them detrimental in combat and not intimidating enough to be worth keeping. For the most part, this work as a mercenary is what he still engages in, though due to how relations are between the Skrall and the other races on the planet, work can get hard to find. Aircraft: Name: The Baterra Model: Rockoh Weaponry: Blaster cannon, auto-tracking retractable Midak Skyblaster. Customisation: Swivelling mount for the Midak Skyblaster, able to retract within the body of the craft, as well as a computerized tracking system that hooks into the "smart cockpit" function of the craft to enable it to track and engage enemies independent of the pilot's control. Appearance: Other than a small coating of protective paint (barely more than grey primer), the craft looks no different than average, owing to it's pilot's utilitarian sensibilities.
  12. Too true. When we all started RPing together here the majority of us were in the 14-16 age range. Now I'm turning twenty-two in under two months and don't have a clue where the time went. Other than how the last three-and-a-half years of it got swallowed up by that insatiable beast known as college, anyways. Also, wow it's weird going back to when we were all younger and reading and seeing how a thread would fill up five pages all in a single day. Even with all the free time I don't know how we ever managed that.
  13. IC: Fortunately for Fyura, I was feeling a bit more permissible on that day than normal when it came to uppity subordinates trying to tell me what to do. Unfortunately for Fyura, I was also perfectly content to allow her to take point. Body shields were always useful, after all, and I wasn't against using such, especially when it came to the Maru. "As you wish," I replied to her, starting to follow her through the hallway. It was time to leave Stannis and Eisen to their battle of wills, Toa versus Toa, and I had faith in Eisen's ability to hold his own against an overly-moralistic being such as Stannis. But as I walked towards where the other Maru were sure to be, I had to admit that I held no such faith as regarded the others in our alliance. Fyura, Lantz, and the others; all opportunistic and self-serving, much like the rest of us who had initially surrounded Echelon. But they lacked the tempering aspects the rest of us possessed. Their vision was lacking, their understanding of the pragmatism of the alliance was hindered by their lack of ability to look beyond themselves, and few among them possessed enough intelligence to recognize where they stood in the hierarchy, both in terms of experience and in terms of power. I fully believed that if it weren't for the sheer numerical advantage we held in this place, this engagement would turn into a route as all of those who had initially been drawn here ran to save their own hides rather than exhibiting true honour and bravery in battle. That was, I felt, one of the few advantages that the Maru and their allies held over us; their devotion to their duty gave them the mental and moral strength to hold out far past the point that any of ours might have given up and ran, and such had often proven to be a deciding factor in various battles. Meanwhile, watching Fyura move on ahead of me, I was fully convinced that the only thing present to make her stay and fight if things should take a small turn for the worse would be me blocking the way behind her. IC: "I see what you meant," I replied to Krayn, after I heard him say that he and I would be covering everybody's retreat. I had never been much of a fighter, even during my time in the Sanctum Guard, but at least I could hold my own well enough not to be particularly afraid from what he'd just said, only displeased. I could last long enough to get us all out. I jumped up on the roof after him, just to try and get a better vantage of everything that was happening. Including the pair that was yelling up at Skyra. And Skyra, who had the amazing tactical sense to completely ruin what it was we were doing. For the life of me, I could not understand how it was that Skyra Daring was as well-liked as she was in the Gukko Force while Krayn had been snubbed and mistreated. Assuming her current actions reflected on her overall career, I found it entirely amazing that she was even still alive. I stuck my hands within the snow on the roof of the hut we were on, sucking it dry of energy. Soon enough, it all started to crumble and disappear entirely, sublimating into the atmosphere as I used it to replenish my own reserves of energy. I knew I was going to need it. "Well, Krayn, if it turns out that your former coworker just killed us, I want you to know that it's been an interesting hour, and I hope you have an enjoyable afterlife."
  14. IC: I stepped forward, cupping my hands around Krayn's ears. "I wish I could say this wouldn't hurt," I started off, visualizing the process of the repair in my mind, "But I would be lying, and you've been on the working end of one of these masks before, so I'm sure you'll know it'll probably itch and sting." My mask started to glow, energies pulsing from it, through my hands, and into Krayn's auditory canals, probing for the ruptured and torn eardrums that they knew would be awaiting. In a few moments, the work was done - regrowing and connecting the tissue, having it stretch across the auditory canal just right, avoiding any improper connections of the soft tissue that would permanently impair Krayn's hearing - and I lifted my hands, my mask going dimming back to normal. One hand rather quickly dropped to his upper arm, holding him up. I'd rather not have him fall flat on the ground (who knew what sharp and annoying implements and trash were waiting to cut up the unwary clutz who fell into the piles of snow and ice) and necessitate I do any more work on him. "Krayn, I think I already established that I don't consider 'winging it' to constitute a proper plan." My own ears were ringing slightly from the noise, and I hadn't even been in the direct brunt of it - of course, I'd had my fair share of hearing damage from Dorian's antics and others during my time with the Mark Bearers, so they almost always rang, anyways. "Though I'm glad to know it at least sounds like you have a plan for escape. Somewhat." I set my free hand on the hilt of my sword, ready to quickly draw it if needed. And then I heard Skyra say something else. Oh dear. "Well, Krayn, try not to die. I can't fix that yet."
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