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  1. Bonkle

    Waiting

    The K-Mart in my hometown finally closed down. I don’t live there anymore, so that doesn’t mean a whole lot, except for one little thing: the times when someone asks me where I’m from. Before, I’d tell them my town’s name, and when they inevitably said they’d never heard of it, I would reply with something like, “I wouldn’t expect you to, after all, it’s so small we’ve still got a K-Mart”. And then they’d throw me the laugh I was looking for so we could move on to the “nice” I’d give to whatever place they called home that I’d probably never heard of either. Now, I’ve got to say we had a K-Mart, and that we’re just another nondescript town among thousands across the country that are helping ease the chain into an existence only in the collective consciousness. But, on the bright side, I guess, if the person on the other end of the conversation is local enough, my town is now on their map, if only for the Dutch Bros. that cropped up seemingly out of nowhere, like it’s the one good scene worth slogging through a bad episode of some old TV show for. My town is also the “Cowboy Capital of the World”, a title more nebulous than it seems. With that information alone, one might think I live in at least three different American towns at once, across state lines. As a child I found this moniker, proudly emblazoned on welcome signs posted at either end of town (and in no one’s heart, truly), first enticing, seductive, and then ridiculous. Sure, we have the Cowboy Museum someone set up (which I have never set foot in to this day), and the Rodeo Weekend every year (one part parade, one part rodeo). Lonely train tracks run perpendicular to Main Street (F Street, but it might as well be Main). But these are fleeting, like the hordes of bikers I would watch rush by with my brother and mother, pulled over along 120 outside of town. There are no gunslingers, no abandoned mines full of dynamite and gold, no out-of-control stagecoaches. I remember more clearly the bitter, pathetic taste of a breakfast sandwich from the immortal Burger King, maintaining its keep at the edge of town, forever hypnotizing hungry passersby looking for something familiar, than I do the rodeo parade we were set to see that morning. This was eternally disappointing for a little boy who was, by all rights, in place to be the main character in a spaghetti western. I was the Mysterious Stranger, the Man With No Name. Even before moving, when I could honestly call my town mine, I lived ten minutes outside of it; a quiet little neighborhood nestled among the old trees and brush along the river. My brother was the only other swashbuckler around, and we made good on it. We were, in turn, pirates, Union soldiers, astronauts, and yes, cowboys, among other things. We wrestled in the dirt and mud, walked warily along the banks of the Stanislaus, one eye looking out for the forces of some malignant undead army, the other watching for the all too real threat of mountain lions. We stared at each other from opposite ends of the dust-choked field we called a backyard before our legs couldn’t take the stillness any longer and charged us into battle. A trip into town left us always somewhat unintegrated, like the piano stopping when we passed through batwing doors, an old man halting the gentle rocking of his chair to squint at us from his porch. A woman pulls her children close around her, a fierce glare in her eyes as she slams the door. No hostility, no hatred. Just unacceptance. In fact, there was nothing to be accepted into, though I so desperately wanted there to be. So we kept moving, kicking up the dust ‘round our ankles. It’s been years now since moving, albeit just a half hour away from where I still call home. Inside me roars the Mysterious Stranger, gung-ho gunslinger out to make things right like he never got a chance to before. These days he’s buried somewhere under layers pensive and remorseful, but maybe that’s just part of who he’s supposed to be. Clint Eastwood never talked much. Being on the other side of that town now, in more ways than one, I think it may have been more of a piece of the Old West than I gave it credit for. If you wanted anything you couldn’t find at the general store, that evanescent K-Mart, or at one of the little shops dotting the streets, always with the same face at the counter, you really would have to go to a Big City to find it, although there was no Sears catalog to order from. The deep, waspish roar of new, fast cars surrounded us in the quiet hours at dawn and dusk, but never passed through us. We were quiet, away, apart, traffic comparable to the days of universal horseback travel. The Bank was the most powerful entity, far from the reaches of skyscrapers and massive factories dotted with city slickers. In fact, a lot of the buildings along Main are the same as they were in the nineteenth century. Death, too, was constantly hovering along the periphery of existence, like a wayward cow skull in a stereotypical depiction of the American desert. I don’t know how many times my brother and I marched into raccoon bones and the remains of squirrels along the riverbank as we hunted dinosaurs. I heard about family members recently lost in that house, and stalked through trees with baseball bats, looking for branches to smash because the demons I was dealing with myself had no forms I could fight. Above all, in retrospect, it felt like a town waiting for something to happen to it, waiting for the sweet-talking mustache-twirler with the long coattails and black top hat to arrive and talk about buying land while secretly planning a devious exploitation. The quiet, smooth rhythms of life there seemed to beg for disruption on the grounds of their existence alone. And yet, as long as I lived there, nothing happened. And now, gazing again at that place I love, I feel my worst fear has come to pass. Throughout my life, painful and tumultuous as it has been at times, two riders have always been alongside me, their consistent presence providing order to my disarray: home, and change. My only hope was that they would never meet, and they have. Sure, there’s the Aaron’s that was a T-Mobile that was a Rent-A-Center that was a Blockbuster, maybe not in that order, maybe it’s something else right now that I don’t even know about. And it seems like the gas stations change hands on a weekly basis. But other than that, there was a persistent stillness to existence there, like things were untouchable. There were no big scandals, no horrific murder cases. Half the town wasn’t plowed away to put in condos. And as ridiculous as it sounds, the K-Mart closing was a sign for me. It, more than anything, was a symbol of constancy, the idyllic nature of life. There it always was, with the handful of employees I could recognize on sight because my father had made friends with them years before, with that one last pair of Nerf guns that had been gathering dust on the shelf for years (acquiring them would obviously bring the ongoing war between my brother and I to an entirely new level of brutality). Even when I was younger I figured out K-Marts were already a rarity, just by how infrequently I saw them around the state and country. It made town feel like a rarity too, like there was something just waiting to be grabbed by the horns. And though I was never truly part of that community I admired so much, I clung to that, even after leaving. But things are mortal there now, and I’ve had to accept that I’ve fallen away from a lot of things, from my brother, from all the half-forgotten friends I promised not to forget, to the core pieces of myself that have degraded with years of sorrow and loneliness. Sometimes I still imagine a cloudless summer day where Main is clear of cars because everyone is inside because of the intense heat or out having fun somewhere, maybe Knight’s Ferry. I am staring down a man in all black, spurs clicking as we come closer to each other but not too close. The leather holster, real, not like the spongy plastic one that held the cap gun I broke over a decade ago and still have somewhere, slaps against my thigh, heavy with the shiny revolver it carries. I squint despite the wide brim of the cowboy hat I keep in my closet that still barely fits. After a lifetime of reaching and grasping for purpose and for something to overcome, I’ve found it in the dark figure before me. But no one notices the things like that about our town, or worse, no one believes they could even be possible. Somewhere along the line in our little lives we forgot adventure and learned complacency, let things come over us instead of looking out for things to overcome. I love that town, but more than the town itself I love my memory of it and what I always wanted it to be, what it maybe still could be. I am willing to die on this hill, but no one cares enough to come and kill me on it. Maybe I’m no longer just the Man With No Name, with a gun on my hip and the right thing in my heart, caring for the town he never learns fully or opens to completely. Maybe I’m a little more tired, a little more grizzled, grayer around the edges; (in part) the man rocking on the porch, watching, trying to keep things out with my eyes, waiting for the right bad thing to let in.
  2. I. The cardinal rule of trickery is this: attempting two deceptions at once typically results in the failure of both. This old sentiment flutters across the back of my mind as I spot the Jaga, and my grip on the hammer loosens as those words from the captain finish their flight through my skull. This would not be so hard after all. The scorpion is crouched amongst the rocks at the foot of the mesa. Were I not looking for it, I never would have picked out its dull, sun-bleached carapace and beady little eyes from the sand and boulders surrounding it. But I am aware of its first deception, and so its second means nothing. And it knows I am coming. It is hard to contain some deep, blunt sense of rancor or perverse excitement, maybe some of both, as I trudge through the sand. But I heed the captain’s words again, different ones this time. This is to be a clean job. Minimally brutal. He has come to me and made these provisions because he had no other choice, because my “minimally brutal” exceeds the worst his others could muster. And their worst is not enough for this. The Jaga is remarkably still as I begin to pick my way through the stones. I suppose its stillness would be what it has mastered. It will do little else. Before long I am nearly upon it, and it must finally drop its self-pretense that maybe I actually do not see it. The creature springs to life, lunging at me with a pincer. It is poorly aimed and if I didn’t know better I might think the Jaga did not mean to hit me at all. Nevertheless I stumble back, finding a foothold on a rock wedged into the sand. I bring the hammer about as the thing swipes with its other pincer; the hammer connects with it and sends the scorpion tumbling to the side. By the time it finds its footing down where the desert levels out, I am already nearly on it again, taking a swing for the armor just behind its head. It scuttles backwards, my hammer digging into the sand. Then the stinger comes at me and I am barely able to jerk to the left, wrenching my weapon from the ground as Ido. The beast lashes furiously with the stinger, and it almost seems there are many Jaga bearing down on me. It is pushing me back towards the rocks, and inevitably the wall of the mesa. I allow it. It doesn’t mind giving me the high ground in this situation. The stinger can follow me up. But soon enough, I see an opportunity it does not. I brace myself against the boulder my feet are planted on, gripping the hammer so the flat top of the head faces out like a shield. As the Jaga stops, coiling for a strike, I leap from the rock. A satisfying crunch breaks out as I land, my hammer having pinned the tail and stinger to the flat slab of stone embedded in the sand that I’d waited for the Jaga to pass over. It squirms and writhes and chitters, and I know I can’t hold it for long. But both of us know all I have to do is lift my foot and bring it down on the hammer to clip its tail in half. How badly I want to. But the Jaga relents, and gives up on its first deception. There is a glow beneath me, brighter than the desert sun above me, and then there is Corvec Ma, Toa of Stone, lying on the ground in front of me. Before he can even so much as blink, my hammer meets his face and sends his Mahiki skipping away across several stones. * * * I sit now in Captain Davik’s office, periodically looking between the captain himself, who sits at his desk, and Corvec, who sits behind bars. The room is silent. Davik holds the Great Mahiki in his hands, eyeing it wearily, almost fondly. Above all he is a tired man, tired of trying to run Rar-Kor in the absence of true leadership, tired of the almost daily updates to the lists of missing Matoran from around the region, tired of having to specify the parameters of “minimal brutality”. He was not pleased to see me drag in the Toa’s unconscious body, tossing the dented Kanohi on his desk. Somehow the captain has forgotten. Somehow he cannot see that this was minimal. Corvec is crosslegged on the floor of the cell Davik had installed in the office to make interrogations easier. I see in his eyes the easy smile of a man who has it all figured out, but if pressed could not explain what “it all” was. The powerless copper Komau he wears for the time being is the only thing out of place. His bleached, sandy armor might as well make him another crumbling wall in this town. Or a Jaga after all. If he is on the verge of collapse like such a wall, his posture suggests a cool acceptance of it, which angers me. Why should he escape his own mess? His eyes meet mine and I pour all the hatred and malice I can into my stare, if I hadn’t already. His gaze does not falter. Mine does. The captain sets the Mahiki on his desk carefully, somberly, like it’s a tablet reporting an incoming Westing assault on Rar-Kor. He has finally chosen his words. Standing from his stool, he comes around the desk, standing between me and the cell. “Toa Corvec,” he offers with a modest bow. I nearly gag. But I do not disrespect the captain. This is a necessary evil. Corvec’s eyes now meet Davik’s, but he offers no other acknowledgement to the honorific address. The captain clears his throat. “I would have you know of my sorrow for your loss, -for our loss- for your comrades gave to Kor services we can never repay.” He stumbles in his mouth. “That is not to say you yourself are without a long list of great deeds,” he adds quickly. It’s been almost two years since Corvec did any deed, great or otherwise. “Secondly, I would like to apologize personally for the way my deputy-” “Just tell me what you want.” There is a great distance to his voice I did not expect, like he is here but his voice comes down on the wind from the mesa where I found him. The captain seems at once more tense and relaxed. “Alright,” he says, his old voice coming out more evenly now. “I’ll be upfront with you. We have a problem, the whole region does, really and it requires skills that only you possess.” “So what?” Davik’s jaw clenches behind his Huna and, in a rare moment of serendipity, he is thinking exactly what I am. ‘So what is that you are a Toa, and you swore an oath to protect this region until you’ve fulfilled your destiny, whatever that may be’. But these are not the words that leave his mouth. Instead, he sighs quietly and says, “Does the name ‘Gorloh’ mean anything to you?” We both know that yes, it does, and so are not surprised to see Corvec lean forward and then stand, the ease fading from his eyes. “What about him?” “We have reason to believe he is behind a recent string of murders and disappearances around Kor. I understand he is a delicate topic for you, which is why we were wary of simply approaching you to ask.” “Delicate topic for me. That why you sent her out to smash my head in?” “You attacked me first, you miserable rust-” “Halak, please!” The captain raises his hand to silence me, although he does not speak too harshly. He is surprised I lasted as long as I did without interjecting. “...minding my own business out in the wastes and she drags me in here…” “Toa Corvec, I understand your frustrations. I really do. We were perfectly willing to continue to leave you alone indefinitely-” I let the captain speak for me here, incorrect as he may be, “-but we heard from a Matoran in Jok-Kor who claims to be an old acquaintance of yours. He said the situation is becoming so dire that the only solution he could come up with was to have us try and ask you for help. That’s why we sought you out.” “What’s his name?” “Ratuk. He keeps me informed on happenings in Jok-Kor. Roads are dangerous these days; it;s not worth going anywhere on foot if it can be helped.” A second name from his past seems to make this more tangible to Corvec. His eyes grow distant, like his voice, and it seems to me for the first time in two years he’s giving something serious thought. “Alright. I’ll go to Jok-Kor and check things out. But not for you, and certainly not because she treated me so nicely. Because of… the guy,” he says with a nod, like he’s speaking to himself as much as he is to us. “And I have a few conditions.” I roll my eyes but manage to keep my mouth shut. Davik waits expectantly. “I want out of this cell before I leave for anywhere. I want my mask back. And I would like to track down my blades. I’ll need them.” “How do we know you won’t just run off?” I let out before I can stop myself. The captain glares but says nothing. Corvec meets my gaze again. “Because I want him dead more than you ever could.” * * * The copper Komau of victory is back in the drawers of the captain’s desk. The cell is empty, the Mahiki gone. I watch Corvec from the doorway of the enforcement office as he sits on the village’s border wall, facing the sunset. He is doing what we have watched him do for the last two years. Corvec litters the wind with the ghosts of ghosts, with faces and voices that exist only in memory, memory of a time when he was someone always, not someone sometimes and sometimes a thing. The Mahiki will glow all night as he lives in his own private world where he can pretend he isn’t a nearly-useless failure of a being. The captain and I exchange a terse smile as he passes by on his way out of the office. We have not broken any rules; we are operating with just one deception. Review Topic
  3. So, the anxiously anticipated LEGO House is officially open to the public today in Billund. Back in mid-2015, Faber jumped on his personal blog that he uses to discuss anything of relevance to himslef and posted an entry that pretty specifically implicated that there will be a decent amount of late 1990's and early 2000's G1 memorabilia and concepts on display there. From the original post: "The phonecall confirmed that Bionicle will have a prominent place in that history since it was the "The toy that saved LEGO" (quote from J∅rgen Vig Knudstorp) and suddenly all my Turaga beach crates full of old sketches gets interest." As it is, I think that we saw a brief glimpse of a display featuring the Toa Mata back in 2016; is anyone aware of what else is down there? Heck, does anyone know a fellow who's going? -Azani
  4. What do you guys think of this website? It was made to capture more of G1 in it's early, mysterious stage. Stay tuned for a new content update on the site at the start of September! http://www.wildshores.co
  5. ...then why do most of the masks on Okoto look the same?
  6. Hey BZP. This is my second epic, Voyage. It's a follow-up to my first work, Independence. I definitely recommend reading that one first for a better understanding of the story and characters. Anyways, guess I'll get us started.... Voyage - Chapter One One morning at 5:00 AM, a Matoran powered on. This was a notable occurrence; this Matoran was supposed to be dead. He found himself lying on the floor of a room he didn't recognize. It was very large. The circular room's walls stretched off farther than he could see, and the ceiling was a dark blur, impossibly far up. There were torches and small, uncontrolled fires all about the room, but he still couldn't see much. He pulled himself to his feet, his whole body aching. Nearby was another Matoran, lying on the ground. He approached cautiously, and then peered at his reflection in the shiny mask. Dragon was a mess. His Miru was faded and dented in on the sides, where his interrogators had held him in place. His neck area also seemed severely damaged. He noticed that both of his arms were badly hurt; he couldn't tell what was supposed to be showing and what wasn't. Dragon limped away from the body, and began looking around the room. It was full of machinery. Furnaces, conveyor belts, power converters. And everywhere there were bodies. Many Matoran, but mostly the robots. The Matoran had obvious signs of damage, such as blaster marks or missing heads. But the robots all seemed rather.... clean. Like they had just dropped dead. As he thought about this, he tried to recall how he had gotten here. He tapped the back of his head, and realized that his brainstalk was much higher up than in should have been. His mind flooded with thoughts. He couldn't think. But in that moment, when everything in his mind shattered, all of his logic and emotions, gone, one thing became crystal clear - he would kill everyone he saw. All of them. Dragon took his first step down the spiral of insanity and let out a disturbed laugh. He looked curiously at his own arms, and then started towards the bodies... * * * Irrie sat in the dark, staring at the computer monitors in front of him. Eight whole months had passed since he had sent Ghidarus through the portal. The city had bounced back quickly, and was in full swing. But despite the fact that the city thought of Irrie as a leader, he'd been hiding out in Ghidarus' old tower, working at the tyrant's computer systems. He'd already cracked several of the easier security programs, giving the Matoran access to a huge base of information that the supervisors had erased from the public records. The door behind him swung open, and Tokytot walked in. "We have a meeting to-" "You go ahead. With Ghidora." Tokytot stood at the door for a few moments, and then left. * * * Tokytot walked down the street, towards inner Po-Metru. He had been caught up with all sorts of important meetings and decisions that he hadn't had a chance to really appreciate how much the city had changed. After discovering the horrors of the city's power system, electricity had been entirely phased out. Doors and stairs were all manual, and torches lit street corners. The exception was the computer system, which the supervisors had made solar powered from the beginning in case of a power shortage. The walls barricading Ko-Metru and Ga-Metru from the rest of the city had been destroyed. Both districts were seemingly empty. Ghidora and Tokytot speculated that these districts were the ones selected to power the city. Still, no one had thoroughly checked these districts, mostly because of time constraints. Soon, he found Ghidora again. The two had remained close friends after their adventures in the wild. As they walked, discussion turned to Irrie. "I'm worried about him," Toky said. "He's been very.... numb lately. He's become careless, almost misanthropic. I think his fight with Ghidarus messed with him." "I wouldn't worry about Irrie. He knows what he's doing." The two were almost to their trade conference, when they heard a metallic clang. It seemed to have come from a sewer drain. No one else was around. They looked at each other, and then walked a little faster. * * * Irrie had been trying at this same firewall for hours. He'd based his attacks on previous successful hacks, but nothing seemed to work. Eventually, he'd given up and left it to chance. A computer program was trying random things. Suddenly, he got in. As the beep sounded, he rushed over from another monitor. After so many letdowns, Irrie expected nothing. But the screen actually showed what he wanted to see. Travel logs. Trade routes. Visits from foreign ambassadors. Anything and everything about other civilizations. And how to get to them. He let out a small cheer, grabbed his satchel, and bolted for the door. REVIEW TOPIC
  7. The Poster So, what can we learn from this, my fellow bonkle fans? I think I should call bonkle fans 'bonklons'. So, anyway, with that out of the way, what can we learn from this poster, bonklons? Well: Ekimu and Umarak are now massive, separated by a volcano that doesn't know how volcanoes are supposed to work. It would appear that Ekimu and Umarak are now in 40-million feet tall robots, and we are seeing their heads here, as they intensely stare at each other - which is totally not an overdone thing. Upon looking closer, it is clear that Ekimu, at least, does not have a neck. His giant, transparent blue mask is just floating there, perhaps an ominous foreshadowing of his inevitable betrayal. Never trust ominous floating things. Umarak appears to have a mostly certainly odd case of having a jaw below his chin. That, or it's a beard. The ground appears to be cracking open, with the right side shrouded in an ominous green mist. Just like Metru Nui in 2005! Except without the spiders. I hate spiders, especially giant ones. Thankfully there are no Skull Spiders this time. Merely beasts. The beasts appear to be appearing from somewhere, but it is hard to discern exactly where, so let us just say that Umarak's giant head with its giant beard is spawning them. The volcano appears to be not understand how volcanoes work, and instead of erupting like a normal volcano, it's sending a beam of something up at the sky, perhaps in an attempt to mediate between Ekimu and Umarak. Whatever the case, it still needs to go back to Volcano School. Mysteriously, Kopaka appears to be jumping impossibly high and a bit too early, so it looks like Kopaka is about to fall to his death. Tahu is doing something equally stupid, by standing on the highest bit of rock he can see, presumably believing that a bird half his size will enable him to fly when strapped to his back. He's in for a surprise. Onua appears to be doing the sensible thing and not take an unnecessary jump over a ravine, by taking the longer, safe, and obvious way around. Well done, Onua. Mysteriously, Lewa, Gali, and Pohatu are absent. Perhaps they have been whisked away to Irrelevant-Land, much as Nex and Stringer (of the Hero Factory That Didn't Produce Much Heroes Beyond The Nine But Then Seven Main Ones) once were.
  8. ON A DAY... THERRE WAS AN EVIL MAFIA HOUNDiNG DEFENCELESS INNOCENT VILLAGERS BUT THEN THE VILLAGERS SURPRISED THE MAFIA WITH A PLAN OF THEIR OWN: A PLAN SO CUNNING THEY BECAME SO COOL THEY ALMOSTCEASED TO EXIST BUT, INSTEAD... THE EVIL ANTI-VILLAGE FROM AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE HAS APPEARED TO DESTROY THE VILLAGE BUT THEY ALSO BROUGHT THE GOOD ANTI-MAFIA FROM THEIR OWN UNIVERSE AND ALSO THE SKULL SKELETONS FROM BONKLE 2015... WHO ARE HERE TO STEAL THE VILLAGE'S COOLNESS YET THERE ARE EVEN MORE CONTENDERS... LIKE A ROCK AND A COMPLETELY USELESS MEDICTECTIVE ALSO THEY CREATE TOA EVERY DAY THEY ALSO DIE IF THEIR COOLNESS REACHES ZERO THIS DAY IS... BONKLE MAFIYEAH 10^44354x67/5654(63566*6456): THE AGE OF THE REVENGE OF THE RISE OF THE COOLNESS OF THE VILLAGE AND THE INVASION OF THE EVIL PEOPLES FROM OTHER UNIVERSES (TAOTROTROFTCOTVATIOTEPFOU for short) THE TWISTED TWISTERY TWIST: THE TWISTS ARE... EVERYONE HAS TWO ROLES!! A REGULAR UNIVERSE VERSION AND ALTERNATE UNIVERSE VERSION WHICH WILL SWITCH BETWEEN ODD-NUMBERED ROUNDS AND EVEN-NUMBERED ROUNDS. IN ADDITION TO THAT EVERYONE HAS A COOLNESS RATING. EVERYONE STARTS WITH A COOLNESS RATING OF 5, OUT OF 10. COOLNESS RATING RISES IF YOU LYNCH THE RIGHT PERSON AS PART OF THE VILLAGE OR IF YOU KILL THE RIGHT PERSON AND GET AWAY WITH IT AS MAFIA. IT FALLS IF YOU LYNCH THE WRONG PERSON OR IF A MAFIOSO GETS KILLED AS MAFIOSO. IF YOUR COOLNESS RATING REACHES ZERO... YOU DIE FROM BEING UNCOOL. COOLNESS RATINGS ARE DIFFERENT IN THE ODD-NUMBERED UNIVERSE AND IN THE EVEN-NUMBERED UNIVERSE, SO KEEP THAT IN MIND! ANOTHER TWIST IS THAT IF YOU DIE YOU MIGHT BECOME A ZOMBIE. ZOMBIES SIPHON THE COOLNESS FROM SOMEONE AND SPREAD THEIR ROLE BY KILLING OTHERS, AND ZOMBIENESS PERSISTS BETWEEN UNIVERSE. THERE'S EVEN ANOTHER TWIST: IN BOTH THE EVEN AND THE ODD UNIVERSES YOU GET TO MAKE WISHES. TWO ROLES, EKIMU AND MAKUTA, IN THE ODD AND EVEN UNIVERSES RESPECTIVELY, GRANT THESE WISHES. THESE WISHES MAY BE KILLING SOMEONE, SAVING SOMEONE, OR COOKING THEM FOR FOOD. EKIMU AND MAKUTA CAN ONLY ACT UPON WISHES AND CANNOT CHOOSE ENTIRELY OF THEIR OWN VOLITION, BUT THEY CAN CHOOSE BETWEEN WISHES. ALSO, ANOTHER TWIST IS THAT IF YOU DON'T DIE, YOU LIVE. THERE'S ALSO THE TWIST THAT IS NOT YET REVEALED BUT YOU'LL KNOW IT WHEN IT HAPPENS AND WHEN YOU SEE IT. ROLES: VILLAGE ROLES: x19 MATORAN: THESE MATORAN ARE COMPLETELY USELESS OTHER THAN FOR VOTING. x5 ANTI-MAFIA: FROM THE OTHER UNIVERSE, THESE FIVE ARE ACTIVE EVERY EVEN-NUMBERED NIGHT AND KILL SOMEONE ON THE OTHER SIDE FOR NO WELL EXPLAINED REASON OTHER THAN 'WE DON'T LIKE THEM'. x1 MEDICTECTIVE: AN UNHOLY FUSION BETWEEN A MEDIC AND A DETECTIVE. THEY ARE SO INCOMPETENT THAT THEY ACTUALLY SELECT ALL BUT TWO OF THE CURRENTLY LIVING PLAYERS TO SAVE. THE REMAINING UNCHOSEN TWO DIE OF MEDICAL INCOMPETENCE. IF THEY CHOOSE TO INVESTIGATE, THEY GET THE WRONG ROLE ENTIRELY. x1 ROCK - THIS IS A ROCK. IT CAN'T VOTE BUT IT CAN CRUSH PEOPLE WHO WALK UNDER IT. x3 TOA (ELECTED) - THEY CHOOSE THREE PEOPLE TO BECOME TOA EACH DAY. THIS DOESN'T HELP AS TOA ARE KNOWN TO INEXPLICABLY FLY OFF AND LEAVE NOTHING BEHIND. THEY MAY BE CONFUSING TOA WITH FLYING THINGS. MAFIA ROLES: x19 ANTI-MATORAN: THESE MATORAN ARE FRIGHTENINGLY COMPETENT AND ALWAYS VOTE FOR THE CORRECT PERSON. EVEN I'M SCARED OF THEM. x5 MAFIA: THESE DESPICABLE DUO OF DUOS PLUS ONE MORE ARE KNOWN TO KILL THE VILLAGE ONE BY ONE BECAUSE THE VILLAGE IS COLOURED ORANGE AND THEY DON'T LIKE ORANGE. x1 ANTI-MEDICTECTIVE: ALSO AN UNHOLY FUSION, ONLY THIS ONE IS WILLINGLY DOING MALPRACTICE. x1 ROCK: THIS ROCK IS EXACTLY LIKE THE OTHER ROCK, ONLY EVIL. x3 SHADOW TOA (ELECTED) - THEY CHOOSE THREE PEOPLE TO BECOME TOA EACH DAY. THIS HELPS IMMENSELY AS SHADOW TOA ARE KNOWN TO UTTERLY CRUSH VILLAGES. NEUTRAL ROLES: x1 SKULL GRINDER: SKULL GRINDER IS HERE TO STEAL YOUR COOLNESS BY KILLING YOU. WATCH OUT. SKULL GRINDER WILL ALSO STEAL AND CORRUPT YOUR WISHES. x1 SKULL BASHER: SKULL BASHER IS HERE TO STEAL YOUR COOLNESS BY KILLING TWO OF YOU. WATCH OUT. x1 SKULL SLICER: SKULL SLICER IS HERE TO STEAL YOUR COOLNESS BY CORRUPTING YOUR VOTE. x1 SKULL WARRIOR: SKULL WARRIOR IS HERE TO STEAL YOUR COOLNESS BY SIPHONING YOUR COOLNESS DAY BY DAY UNTIL YOU DIE. x1 SKULL SCORPIO: SKULL SCORPIO IS HERE TO STEAL YOUR COOLNESS BY BEING COMPLETELY USELESS. x1 EKIMU: EKIMU IS HERE TO GRANT WISHES YOU MAKE ON ODD-NUMBERED DAYS. EKIMU ALSO WANTS TO KILL MAKUTA. x1 MAKUTA: MAKUTA IS HERE TO GRANT WISHES YOU MAKE ON EVEN-NUMBERED DAYS. MAKUTA ALSO WANTS TO KILL EKIMU. (?)x ZOMBIE: IF YOU DIE YOU MIGHT BECOME A ZOMBIE. THEN YOU TARGET SOMEONE, STEALING THEIR COOLNESS UNTIL THEY DIE, AND IF YOU WERE THE LAST TO SIPHON THEIR COOLNESS, THEN THEY ALSO BECOME A ZOMBIE. x1 SECRET ROLE: THIS SECRET ROLE IS SO SECRET IT DOESN'T ACTUALLY EXIST. RULES: NO SIGNING UP IF YOUR COOLNESS IS LESS THAN 5DO NOT BREAK THE RULESSCREENSHOTS ARE ALLOWED AS LONG AS THEY ARE .GIFS AND CONTAIN COOLNESSVOTE SWITCHES ARE ALLOWED AS LONG AS YOU BRING A LITERAL SWITCHROUNDS WILL LAST FOR 1.43 MONTHS.THE ONLY CLUE IS THE ONE YOU FIND DEEP IN YOUR HEART. IF YOUR HEART TELLS YOU THAT PLAYER 546 IS GUILTY THEN THEY'RE GUILTY.SUSPECT LISTS ARE CONTINUOUSLY GROWING AND YOU CAN ADD WHOEVER YOU LIKE.READ THE RULES OR YOU WILL BE UNCOOLDON'T STOP EXISTINGRULES ARE MADE TO BE BROKEN - PLEASE BREAK THE RULES PLAYER LIST (COOLNESS MUST BE GREATER THAN 4 TO SIGN UP. IF YOUR UNSURE OF YOUR COOLNESS, GET A FAN AND USE THEM TO COOL YOU DOWN. PLEASE PROVIDE PROOF OF YOUR COOLNESS WITH THE APPROPRIATE AMOUNT OF COOLNESS - 5 COOLNESS IS REPRESENTED LIKE THIS: B-) . THIS IS HOW YOU KNOW YOU'RE NOT COOL: ) 1. KIMIKO KUSANAGI, COOLNESS RATING: INVISIBLE/5 2. TOATIMELORD, COOLNESS RATING: 15/5 3. TAKA NUVIA, COOLNESS RATING: SKULLS/5 COOL. SHADOW UNDERSCORE, COOLNESS RATING: COOL/5 5. 6. 7. GODKARMACHINE O INARY, COOLNESS RATING: 7/5 8. FISHERS64, COOLNESS RATING: SHOTGUN POINTED AT MY FACE/5 9. a. b. WINDRIDER, COOLNESS RATING: NONEXISTENT CHARACTER FOR A VALUE THIS HIGH/5 c. d. e. f. TOAD, COOLNESS RATING: THROUGH THE ROOF/5 10. GHIDORA, COOLNESS RATING: PRAISEWORTHY/5 11. SHADOWHAWK, COOLNESS RATING: SHADOW/5 12. 13. DESTINED BLADE, COOLNESS RATING: DESTINED 13/5 14. 15. 16. 17. JIF SHADOW CREAMY, COOLNESS RATING: MONEY/5 18. 19. LUCINATO, COOLNESS RATING: HYBRID OF TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE/5 1a. LENORE, COOLNESS RATING: POETRY/5 1b. 1c. DARKSTALKER KAATHE, COOLNESS RATING: ARMS 1d. 1e. 1f. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. SHADOW RAHKSHI GUURAHK, COOLNESS RATING: RAHKSHI/5 25. 26. 27. TWILIGHTVEZON, COOLNESS RATING: 27/5 28. 29. 2a. 2b. 2c. 2d. 2e. 2f. 30, SHADOW FF, COOLNESS RATING: ALREADY PROVIDED/5 31, 32,
  9. Bonkle

    Minor Annoyances #3

    Today's topic: Star Wars: The Clone Wars and Generator Rex were cancelled. It happened a while ago, but the wound cuts deep.
  10. So, guess who's been watching too much JoJo recently? ^^^^Click for full image^^^^ Trick question: There's no such thing as 'too much JoJo'. Anyways, have this thing I did on a whim and didn't spend as much time as I should've on. Because. (For the record, Kopaka's Stand is [Alnoe Platinum].)
  11. Hello everybody, it's Bonkle and I'm trying out my first comedy type thingy. So how this works is you submit your Bionicle-related character and give them an adventure to go on, and then I write a short, humorous story. For example, Petewa asked me to write about his Po-Toa character travelling to other dimensions with a TARDIS, so I decided to have his character visit other LEGO universes. Anyone is welcome to have one written, but I'll only do one per member, unless you and someone else can agree on a "team" story. Writing Process: 1. Turn on music 2. Realize I can't focus with music playing 3. Turn off music 4. Struggle 5. The writing flows 6. Ugh, now I've got to type it in 7. ???? 8. Success! Table of Contents: Petewa: This post Irrie: This post Dragon Kovika Olita Short Comedies: Petewa Starring: Petewa, Dragon, Shadow, and Dane "I still don't think it's a good idea," Dragon hissed. He and Petewa were heading down to the conference room for breakfast with the rest of the Kanohi Force. "Relax, it'll be fine, as long as Shadow doesn't find out." "Whatever. But don't say I didn't warn you." The pair entered the room, the sounds of clinking silverware and chatter everywhere. Petewa casually glanced at Shadow as he helped himself to a whole plate of bagels. The Av-Matoran did not appear to be particularly interested in him. After they were all done eating, Petewa accidentally bumped into Shadow. A few papers fell from his trenchcoat. As he and Shadow bent down to pick them up, Petewa noticed what one index card said: STOP PETEWA. Suddenly, he bolted for the door, with Shadow in hot pursuit. Dragon disappointedly said aloud, "Smh." Dane quickly came over and high-fived him. Meanwhile, in the halls, Shadow was gaining a lead. Using his Kakama, he had nearly caught up with Petewa. As the Po-Toa disappeared around a corner, Shadow went left, down the stairwell to the garage. However, Petewa had stashed his vehicle in a closet off to the right. He snickered as he powered up the TARDIS and set coordinates for a random LEGO dimension. Down in the garage, Shadow heard the hum of the TARDIS and realized his mistake. Even as he dashed up the stairs, he knew it was too late. "PEEEEETEEEEEWAAAA!" Back in the TARDIS, Petewa was relaxed. Shadow worried too much. How harmful was pranking a few people in other LEGO dimensions? He grabbed a few water balloons as the Police Box reached its first destination. He stepped out into a world of fun and color. Petewa was utterly disgusted. A bipedal squirrel walked up to him, a stream of sparkles coming from its tail. "Hello, new friend! Welcome to FABU-" "Nope." Petewa quickly got back in the TARDIS and hit the random button again. This time, he landed on a bridge and narrowly dodged some laser fire as he got out. He realized where he was: Sentai Mountain! With a cry of, "Notice me Sentai!" he hit the nearest battle machine with a water balloon. The blue-haired pilot just stared at him for a second before rattling something off in Japanese. Several other mechs arrived and then things got really weird. The background became monochrome, with white lines streaking upwards. There were a bunch of crazy sound effects as we got close-ups of the weapons before all the mechs blasted Petewa. He was knocked back into the TARDIS, and he quickly hit the home button. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Short Comedies: Irrie Starring: Irrie and Ghidora Irrie woke up, already at maximum Frenchness. He got out of bed, singing La Marseillaise entirely in "hon hon's" He had something important to do today: he was searching for the fabled Almighty Baguette, a piece of bread created from raw gold and magic, located at the top of the highest peak in the land. Grabbing his Kaukau and Jo staff, he hopped into the MoustacheMobile and drove off towards the mountains. Finding the tallest mountain was no challenge, but climbing it was. Irrie had to leave behind the MoustacheMobile and continue up the slope on foot. Using his Jo staff as a walking stick, he was able to make decent progress. However, he soon encountered another climber! Could it be someone else trying to get the baguette? As Irrie got closer, he saw that his challenger was a mime! He knocked him away with his Jo staff, sending the mime crashing down the mountain. Suddenly, the mime made some hand gestures and a platform appeared under him, breaking his fall. He made more gestures and the platform soared back up to Irrie's level. The mime smashed the platform into Irrie's head before trapping him in a mime box. Then he continued sprinting up the mountain. Irrie was trapped, there was no escape. Ghidora casually walked by and dropped a Taco Bell chalupa on the box. "Think outside the bun," he said. What could he mean by that?" Irrie thought. "Think outsi..... Think outside the box!" he shouted out. Of course! He had French powers; all he had to do was mimic opening a box. He escaped from his prison and charged up the mountain, sending snow everywhere. Irrie quickly caught up to the mime, who put his hands on his face in shock. Irrie summoned a wall in front of the mime as they ran. The mime hit the wall head on and exploded into dust. Irrie finished the climb up to the peak and found the Almighty Baguette, but it was on the other side of a lava lake! As he approached, a booming voice said, "True or false. France is the world's most visited country." "True," Irrie said. A stone step appeared over the lava and the voice asked another question. After correctly answering ten, there was a full bridge across the lava. Irrie excitedly ran over the bridge and nabbed the Almighty Baguette. He held it over his head and cried, "Hon hon" for all of BZ-Nui to hear.
  12. Trijhak

    Skull Scorpio

    Skull Scorpio has a hidden power so great we should all fire it You see, Skull Grinder grinds things. Skull Basher bashes things. Skull Slicer slices things, and by the way it makes a great chef. Skull Warrior... wars... things and is a great war... warrior. Notice how they all do what the second word of their name suggests. Skull Scorpio... shoots Scorpions. It shoots scorpions out of its tail, out of its claws, and out of its face. Because it's Skull Scorpio. Scorpions... have stingers. And claws. Don't forget the claws. These stingers... can kill. So the next time you see a Skull Scorpio, you better respect it, you understand? It can kill you with scorpions.
  13. Trijhak

    Skull Warrior

    Skull Warrior came in the mail today. Gear function doesn't work that well with the bow (well DUH). The new armour add-on piece honestly doesn't look that good in the way it attaches. It looks kind of awkward compared to the piston piece and the round/square HF add-on pieces, it doesn't really try to cover up the area where it attaches. Still, it's by far the largest shell add-on piece we have yet and looks good as long as you don't look at it from the side. Believe it or not, but shells can fit, albeit very loosely, on the bone piece, as long as it's on the side where you can see the 'slit' in the bones, the hole. Not the side where you can't see the 'slit', as it's thinner. Transparent Blue and Transparent Orange go together better than you'd think, contrasting very well with each other. The new torso shell's upper part is a bit disappointing, as it looks awkward without the 'breastplate' add-on thanks to the awkwardly tiny 'ribs' at the very top that are obscured by the aforementioned 'breastplate' add-on. The new blade piece is thinner than you'd might expect, both from the side and from the front. Skull Warrior does have some problems standing, thanks to the weight the bow/gearbox add, which is sort of negated by the claws on the feet, but not quite. Unlike the spear, the bow doesn't really have a place where it can be mounted on the back. Unless the bow's meant to go where the bow is, but I have no idea how the bow'd connect without looking awkward.
  14. Trijhak

    Skull Commercial

    I think the Skull Bonkle commercial had a hidden story to it, so I decided to give you my interpretation of it. --- SKULL SKELETONS: Do you think we should hep the big skeleton thing that just revived us? SKULL SKELETONS: No, not really. SKULL SKELETONS TURN TO DUST AS SKULL GRINDER IS DEFEATED BY TAHU WITH ONE BLOW IN SKULL GRINDER'S WEAK SPOT FOR 999,999,999 DAMAGE! MEANWHILE TOA: Should we help Tahu? TOA: Nah, we hate him. He's full of himself, let's watch him get defeated and get his comeuppance. TAHU DEFEATS SKULL GRINDER WITH ONE BLOW IN SKULL GRINDER'S WEAK SPOT FOR 999,999,999 DAMAGE! TOA: ... TAHU: I am the best Toa in all of existence! Now, I demand you all paint yourselves red and swear total allegiance to me because I'm awesome. We awaken Ekimu this day! MUCH LATER SKULL SCORPIO shows up to the scene of the battle - more accurately, the aftermath. SKULL SCORPIO: *curses loudly in skeleton language* SKULL SCORPIO crumbles to dust, since it has only just realised the Skull Skeletons lost the crucial battle against the Toa who seek to awaken the evil spirit of Ekimu. AND SO, OKOTO SLOWLY SANK INTO THE SEA AS PER EKIMU'S WISHES, REVEALING THE GIANT ROBOT THAT SLEPT UNDERNEATH. THE GIANT DEATH ROBOT, THAT SOUGHT TO DESTROY THE PLANET. GOOD JOB, TOA 'HEROES'.
  15. Ghidora131

    BMCC?

    Hello. Would it be possible for me and a few other members of high building capability to create a Bionicle MOC Critics Club? It would function similar to the other Critics clubs, requiring permission to review any such MOCs before reviewing them. I don't have any other members ready to help, I just thought I'd see if it was even possible before I tried.
  16. Trijhak

    The Ancient City

    There's something I'd like to know: why did the villagers of Okoto leave the city in the first place? Was it cursed? Was it reimbursed (with death)? Was the city the worst? Of cities to be abandoned, was it the first? Also, it's in the shape of the BIONICLE symbol. You know the one, the one that was on the bottom of G1 canisters. There's chasms between the five parts, with the tomb-forge of Ekimu being on the central pillar-dot and the residences of Ekimu and Makuta on the outer two pillar-dots, and everything else is on the two outlying parts. Connected by bridge. As a bonus, the city shapeshifts. Because the city... is alive! No, it's just really weird.
  17. Trijhak

    An Opportunity

    There should be a Mindstorms + BIONICLE 'cross-over' set. It'd have to be large, but imagine if we could have Toa that move of their own (programmed) volition. LEGO could also use this to take over the world.
  18. As we have come to the conclusion that the Skulls do not in fact have adrenaline modes, I'll make some up myself: Skull Warrior's adrenaline mode is riding its bow like a surfboard Skull Slicer's adrenaline mode is putting a 6-stud length axle between its arms to allow it to soar majestically like a Potoo to enable it to chase after Lewa Skull Scorpio turns its stinger into two separate wings, becoming a Skull Hornet instead of a scorpion and thus terrifying us all Skull Basher remains the same except for the bashing function being applied to the legs, allowing it to mock Pohatu with a kick function and remind him of his old days as a G1 Mata/Nuva Skull Grinder does nothing and consumes the mask of creation but because it's a skeleton it falls right through the nonexistent digestive system of Skull Grinder (SKELETONS DON'T HAVE ORGANS (BOTH THE BODY KIND AND THE MUSICAL KIND)) Ekimu's hammer turns into a unicycle, foreshadowing the Clown Invasion of Okoto in 2016. As a bonus, this happened in G1. Can someone remind me when this happened? I sure don't remember it.
  19. What if The LEGO Movie sets were so successful we get a The LEGO Movie Movie? We would then get The LEGO Movie Movie sets. Why were Mata Nui and Makuta the main protagonist and main antagonist of 2010 respectively, yet neither got a set that year? We totally should have seen more 'special' canister sets in the later years, like the Hagah. I constantly imagine the early Toa Mata having their gear functions turned to the beat of some random music that only exists in my head. I found two drilldozer drills the other day and decided they'd make good hands, because who doesn't want drill hands? I saw a skull spider the other day. Horrible creatures. Skull Driller now exists. It has drills for hands. Why did the Hero Factory heroes have first names in 2010 that were then promptly never used again, except in 2011 when Fire Lord was like 'I KNOW YOU PREEESSSTOOONNN, I LOVED YOU; or something like that? If the Protector Gunthings have six slots for six studs, does that mean they evolve into Cordak Blasters given enough time? The clowns are coming for Okoto... and then for you. The Lord of Skull Spiders is actually a mutilated and twisted Toa, hence why it is not actually a true spider (it has six legs instead of eight). It is a mockery of both true spiders and those who would dare call themselves heroes. It guards the Ancient City out of spite for its former life. The Hero Factory and the planet or comet or whatever it was on got nuked by Von Nebula who is now called Von Nukula. He had the last laugh except for the part where the HF's higher staff and alpha team escaped to the other side of Okoto's planet and to set up a new Hero Factory, just as corrupt and evil as the previous one. Pohatu and the Protector of Stone are radioactive. This is why they are partly transparent neon green. Being around them slowly kills you. There are 'mindless' Okotoan villagers wandering around in the more rural, extreme, and deep zones of Okoto. They are mindless as a Skull Spider has taken control over them so long their mind has been erased away, leaving nothing but a mindless - and incredibly hostile - villager, that is if a skull spider is not on their face. If there is a Skull Spider on their face, then the Skull Spider's controlling the villager very easily. Due to the lack of a mind, the Skull Spiders have increased capabilities when taking control of these villagers. There is a Red Star above Okoto. There is also a Blue Star, a Green Star, a Brown Star, a Black Star and a White Star. It is rumoured that when Okoto has overcome all the trials it puts upon its inhabitants and defenders, that these stars will combine into one massive star, but not before being preceded by the most devastating events in Okoto's history. Due to this, some villagers of Okoto find it in their best interest to oppose the Toa reaching the Ancient City and awakening Ekimu or whatever they have to do there, and will go to any length to do so. The Inika masks were teleported up to the Red Star when the Inika became Mahri, thus preserving their lives, They now bicker endlessly. They crash landed on Okoto tomorrow, about five hours ago. Okoto does not lie on top of a giant robot's face. Speaking of that, it would be very weird if every time we went to sleep, a giant island sprouted up on top of our heads and then broke apart when we got up.Even more so if our blood cells spread out onto it... wow. Mata Nui... was BLEEDING all 2001-2003. Having an island rest on top of your face can't help. Makuta desired to eat the Toa's masks but was stopped by Ekimu, who teamed up with Mata Nui and also Oheropoafgelo, who is from generation 3 of BONKLE, the clown generation. They are the Clown of Earth.
  20. Everyone's favorite Le-Matoran! Also included a human version because I can't draw canon barnacles, plus I've never really found Matoran humanizations that I've liked. They're not short enough.
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