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  1. ACTUAL FIRST POST http://www.bzpower.com/board/topic/22798-bionicle-mafia-xxxi-extra-american/?p=1080541 (credit to Nik the Three for the banner) Once upon a time, there was a Matoran named Nuck Chorris. He was merely seconds away from completing his masterwork. He had placed a bun made of wheat on the table. He then spread ketchup on that bun, piling on that a meat patty, onions, and cabbage. He then placed another bun atop that. On that lay lettuce, and tomato… and another patty. He then took out a glowing object of pure gloriousness… bacon. He placed the bacon atop the foodstuff pile, and quickly smothered it with the final bun. He then took out his patented frilly toothpick… and gingerly inserted it through the thing. He had finally created his masterwork… The 1/2 pound deluxe bacon cheeseburger. Suddenly, a magic portal erupted from beneath it, transforming Nuck into Chuck… Chuck Norris. A sudden rush of patriotism flowed throughout him, and he quickly got to work transfiguring Ta-Metru to a new land, a shining land of hope… America. America blossomed, much to the confusion of its neighbors and inhabitants. Soon, only the most patriotic of citizens were allowed to stay. These happy few made America great. However, opposition soon rose. From the very cheeseburger that had created America, a new evil arose… Communazism. This evil imbedded itself within the souls of some great Americans, perverting their once great values with socialism… creating the Mafia of Filthy Communazis. Rules: 1. Basic Mafia rules. If you're new to Mafia, or you just need a refresher, just ask. 2. Vote switches are handed out very gingerly, so if you genuinely made a mistake, I'll allow a switch. 3. Night rounds last about 24 hours, and day rounds about 24. However, votes a little late will still be counted. 4. If you are not American, it’s okay. Unless you’re Canadian. (just kidding y’all are pretty neat) 5. And don't reveal your role until after you've been eliminated. Revealing your role prematurely is asking me to boot you from the game. American Roles: Roles assisting the safety of the village. Win by eliminating all Communazis. Average Americans: Those with an unquenchable desire to be average. Basically just normal villagers. Murican Medic: Someone using their powers of patriotism to heal and protect the Americans from death by anti-Americanness. Magnum P.I.: The legendary detective who can discover the role of anyone a night. His epic Hawaiian shirts and mustache will help him evade death but once. Chuck Norris: Has the ability to save all of America. His vote counts double, unless he elects to discover the role of someone. Mafia of Filthy Communazis: Those running the murders. Win by eliminating all neutral/village roles. Vladimir Hitler: The leader of the Filthy Communazis. Can immobilize anyone for one night, or use his special single-use power of overruling the vote of the rest of the mafia. His identity is unknown to the rest of the Mafia. Communazis: The members of the Mafia. They select a villager to kill each night. There are 6. Neutral Roles: Those who are not Village-aligned, yet not Mafia. Win by eliminating all Mafia. Frenchman: If targeted by the Mafia, survives and joins the mafia by surrendering. Canadian: Is just there. Can pick one person to protect and will die in place of their protected if their friend is targeted. PLAYER LIST: 1. JAG18, the returning conqueror 2. Luroka, the guy who un-American-ly changed his name 3. Quisoves Potoo, the bald eagle's fiercest rival 4. Voxumo, the former leader of Okoto 5. Phantom Terror, the person who shamefully has a shameful Mega Bloks avatar 6. Nik The Three, the guy who is now famous for creating this splendiferous banner 7. Ghidora, the guy who would say something against this but won't 8. Rahkshi Guurahk, fellow band nerd/patriot 9. B0ss Mandacus, the bunny 10. jed1ndy, the guy who almost made the banner but then didn't 11. Pulse, the Filthy Un-American who will probably be playing an American due to the fickleness of the RNG 12. TimeLord, the British person who is not American enough 13. Unit, the guy with an unnecessarily long name 14. MavesIgnikari, the 6-post-man 15. FF, the sneky theeph 16. Ta-metru_defender, the enthusiast 17. Toa Smoke Monster, the special one
  2. It has finally been revealed (and I totally haven't been creeping threads by Hapori just waiting to find out what it would be :v). The 2016 spinny is none other than... The Mask of Control! Very good choice IMO given the significance of the mask for this year's story. I like the orange tint it seems to have to it, too. Whether it was deliberate or not, it gives me a vibe of how he looked in the first animation. So, what do you guys think of it? What would you have liked to see instead?
  3. *Obligatory "hey you're not dead!" goes here* As of about a month ago in June, I celebrated my ten-year anniversary on BZPower. Ten years is a really long time! Longer than I've done just about anything else, really. Probably something to be celebrated in some fashion. At least I get a sweet Tohu spinny. Granted, for the last four years especially, I haven't exactly done much at all on BZP other than be alive, occasionally lurk, and also post a MOC now and then because college intruded frequently. But! I have in fact graduated college, also as of this past June. This means I have time for BZP, with which I can ... lurk more actively, I suppose? I also made a thing for the latest BBCC which was destroyed horribly in the first polls (tears shed) viewable here, and have been working on some other MOCings and the things which accompany them, such as digging up the lamps used for the lightbox from their nearly-final resting places among the mountains of refuse of a distant deserted house room. Which is all well and good that I have time for it now, since in roughly a month I'll be off to graduate school! Entirely across the country actually, in Maryland to be specific, which I've heard for a third of a year or so turns into frigid wastes as a part of the things I'm told are called seasons, experienced by people who live in places other than Southern California, where the depths of winter produce weather merely in the 70s. And so, as Ballom continues to git hisself edycated, I will be hundreds (thousands?) of miles away from those troves of pieces used for the MOCenings, which means I'll probably in what I think AFOLs call a dark age. The grim times of no building. Alack, alack. On the plus side, I think in years after this one I will be able to attend BrickFairs in Virginia, since my school is barely outside DC, and Chantilly is only a little further off. So I will be able to meet BZPower peoples and hang out with y'all, at least sometimes. And, of course, I'll continue to lurk around here, maybe even posting now and again (-gasp-), and otherwise hanging around this corner of the Internet for hopefully many more years to come! Can we get a toasting glass in here or something?
  4. Neapolitan ice cream's pretty okay, with its flavours in their own little sections and everything. But something like, say, chocolate chip swirl, with everything all mixed up together? Now that's fantastic. A strange analogy for a BZPower overhaul, maybe, but bear with me. Next paragraph. Starting now, BZPower's various subforums no longer have specific staff members assigned to run them. Instead, all Forum Assistant and Forum Leaders care for all the forums. This means that any member of the forum staff can move, close, or otherwise keep any forum on the site running nice and smooth. We'll still have specific Forum Leaders in charge of a given forum's rules, but other than that, it's a big blue free-for-all. If you've got any questions, please don't hesitate to ask!
  5. Hordaki

    Fifteen

    Happy early birthday, BZP. Here's to fifteen more. Also those with blogs should use their time wisely, as there's a free premier storm brewing...
  6. Edelgard

    OBLIVION: Review

    For forty years, Spherus-Magna has lived in relative peace following an event known as the 'Reformation'. However, darkness always rises - and four Matoran find themselves hired to stop its shadow from spreading across the planet forevermore. Gathered together by a Mad Great Being, they find themselves in a deadly race to find the Mask of Life... all the while hunting down a mysterious and deadly foe before they succeed in their dark plan to end the newly reformed world. CHAPTERS "THE MAD GREAT BEING" "MEET THE TEAM" "KEEP YOUR FRIENDS CLOSE..." "AND YOUR ENEMIES CLOSER" "SHARE YOUR STORY" (From the Files of a Stranger) "IT'S ALL A GAME" "SPINE EATER" "BY THE FIRESIDE" MEET THE TEAM ARAINA - "The Mad Great Being" BRONZE - "The Living Mask" SIRIEN - "The Snarker" SMOKE MONSTER - "The Mask Maker" MARAKO - "The Mayor" SVENTOLA - "The Agori" OTHER CHARACTERS - Voltex - Xaeraz - RG - Dina - The Artisan - Makua - Kuan - Dallior - Dai - Phrase - - VELIKA - - Iaredios Paerkenon - Driken - Lord of Ice Picks - Pilgrim Shadow - Jalicax - Aerixx - Maltik - - Shadow Ignited - Well, everything appears to be in order! What do you think so far? My apologies about the lack of, well, really anybody except for Araina and Voltex in the prologue; the latter plays next to no role later in the story, but his freeing of the so-called "Mad Great Being" is what ultimately sets the events of this story in motion. Chapter 1 will release on January 16th.
  7. A BZPOWER STORY PROLOGUE: “THE MAD GREAT BEING” ---Sixteen Years Ago--- ---24 AR [After Reformation]--- He crept through the trees, keeping a wary eye on the slowly setting sun as it drifted down the sky. It would not do to be caught in the dark of night without shelter; he could already feel the creatures of the night beginning to stir; they would soon wake up. In the fading light, he could make out an ancient building, crumbling and covered with vines. A quick mental signal enhanced his visual perception, clearing the image and brightening it so that he could make out more of what was clearly some sort of ancient fortress. The sandy-brown stones were out of place amongst the layered greens of the jungle, and would have been better suited in a desert. As he approached the fortress, he was able to make out ancient carvings, from a dialect so old even his translator systems could not determine their origins. This fortress was from a time long since past. As he came close enough to reach out and touch the building, he stopped, turned, and then began to walk around it, circling it once to examine all four of the massive walls. Even in his decrepit state, the various systems in his body allowed him to accomplish the task within a few short minutes; a task that would have taken most others hours. Nonetheless, by the time he was finished, the sun was almost gone, and like clockwork, the jungle behind him was coming to life. His only shelter for the night would be inside the fortress itself. Returning to the side of the fortress where he had discovered what once was an ornate entrance, he confidently stepped inside, somewhat surprised to find the halls within lit by torches. He had not seen any evidence of anyone other than himself being outside, and yet the torches, if his scanners were to be trusted, had been blazing for less than an hour. This information did not trouble him; he had dealt with far more dangerous - far more sinister - things than this. It would take more than mysterious torches to bother him. So he continued on, working his way through the labyrinth-like halls towards the center of the fortress, where he felt a strange compulsion to be, as though someone were calling him. He would have considered that strange, except that whoever was summoning him had made second-guessing the decision impossible. When he found himself entering a room with a solitary jail cell and a massive stone slab slid into place, blocking the way he had come - and inconveniently, the only exit - he did indeed find it strange. Despite this, it was not half as strange as the being sitting cross-legged upon the floor of the cell. They were tall - taller even than him - with emerald green armor, and they wore an ornate helmet. Their head was bowed, and their eyes shut. He took a tentative step towards them, only to freeze in place when they raised a single hand, palm facing him. “...hello?” he asked. His voice was ragged from disuse, mechanical against his will. The being frowned, opening their eyes and tilting their head up to look at him. Then their eyes widened slightly and they nodded, as though he had somehow answered an unspoken question. “Interesting,” they murmured. Their voice was like a thousand lines of silk, all sliding across each other. “A Matoran, when I first created you. Now a robot, long past your time.” He frowned. “You… know who I am?” They nodded, but tilted their head to the side, re-examining him. “Curious… you are not him. So I did create you, but somewhere else. You are not from here. You’ve come a long way.” “Look,” he started, stepping forward, clenching his fists. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re gonna start answering some questions right now. Who are you? Why are you here? How do you know me?” The being was silent for a long moment before asking, “where is your staff?” The question threw him off and he involuntarily stepped back into his original position, his frown deepening as he realized that his staff was no longer in his hands. He twisted, intending to go look for it, but found himself rooted in place; his legs would no longer move. He wrestled with them for several seconds before giving up the task and turning back towards the mysterious being, his eyes narrowing into a glare at the sight of his staff hovering at their side. “Once, long ago, I helped to create you, or rather, another me did.” The being said, seeming to speak as much to themselves as they were to him. “You were a Matoran of Gravity; my first contribution to the Matoran race. I named you.” “I don’t go by that name anymore,” he snapped, scowling. “It’s meaningless to me - the name of a murderer, and so much worse.” The being laughed - a rich, intoxicating sound, addicting in its pure and unadulterated pleasure. “No, no, you are mistaken. You bear the name now, as you should; you have gone by it for many years now, although nowhere near as long as I would have preferred. You go by Voltex, yes? That is what I called you.” His scowl turned back into a frown and he shook his head, unable to understand. “I… I don’t….” “I touched the Mask of Life, and it cursed me,” the being told him, their eyes shining. “Everything I touch comes to life. Isn’t that interesting? But it was a curse, for I made a mistake, and oh, the other Great Beings, they never tolerated mistakes.” “You’re insane,” he decided. “You have to be.” “If assuming that will help you to keep your own insanity then certainly,” the being replied, their voice full of mirth. “The ‘Mad Great Being’ they called me, until they locked me in here and forgot about me forever. What a quaint little title. I admire it; perhaps I am insane. I would not know; you are the first I have spoken to in many millennia.” He wanted to move, wanted to leave. His head was beginning to spin. The Mad Great Being appeared to both know this and take immense pleasure in the knowledge. “I had rivals, you see. Enemies. Some of them thought me foolish, as though I were some little child. Thought that they could turn my own creations against me, modify them for their own purposes without my knowing…” here, their gaze locked with his own, and if his robotic body could have felt chills, Voltex would have shuddered. “They changed you. Tried to wipe away your programming and replace it with their own, with a portion of themselves, and very nearly succeeded, yes. But I am very clever, for here you are; for unknown to them, you were always still in there, simply waiting to be let back out. Their plans were their own undoing, for they played right into mine.” He shook his head. “I don’t understand where you’re going with this. What is this supposed to mean?” The Mad Great Being shrugged. “Alone out of the Great Beings, I have always had the gift and curse of foresight. I have foreseen it all, and here, in this universe, you are my salvation. For only a Great Being can tear down the bars of my cell and the walls of this fortress. Only at the hands of a Great Being can I become free… and you have a part of one locked away inside of you.” The Mad Great Being shook their head, studying him more closely. “No, that is not correct… ooh, he is clever indeed. You have… two? Really?” “Two of what?” Voltex asked, eyes narrowed. “White One.” He sighed. “You’re something else, aren’t you?” “Well, I am a Great Being,” they replied, their voice light and cheerful, “and besides, as you so succinctly put it, I am insane. Although if we’re both honest with ourselves - and I do believe we should be - you are as well. We both know you should be dead, not locked away inside a Maxilos unit! Gone and turned yourself into even more of an artificial intelligence than you were before!” “Before?” he asked, at this point completely lost. “Well, yes. You Matoran were all mostly mechanical. And besides, you can’t just make souls and personalities. You were just highly specialized AIs - and you, specifically, have managed to break your programming rather spectacularly. But then, if I had been called something as silly as ‘White One’, maybe I would to. Velika was always so awful with naming things…” the Mad Great Being trailed off, lost in their ramblings. Voltex had just opened his mouth to speak when they suddenly turned back to him. “How long has it been? Since the Reformation?” “...about twenty-four years,” he answered. “Interesting,” they murmured, looking away once again. He coughed. “You… said something about a Great Being inside of me?” They shrugged, waving the issue away. “Oh, yes, Velika. That nutter. Really, if any of the Great Beings deserved to be called ‘mad’, it’d be him, not me. He managed to override your coding by essentially inserting a small portion of his own soul into you. Made you stop being Voltex and start being him. And then when you broke through, came here and stopped the other you, and the other you found a way to transfer his thoughts into you as memories to preserve himself, because both of you are too clever for your own goods. Unfortunate, isn’t it darling? You’re a ticking time bomb.” “Thanks,” he muttered. “I’m really feeling your appreciation.” The near-blinding grin he received in response suggested that the Great Being seated in the cell with his staff had long since lost the ability to perceive sarcasm. “Thank you! I do appreciate you! That’s why I brought you here, of course. Because you’re you, and that means you’re lugging him around too. Or, you know, a part of him. It works!” “What works?!” he cried. “Why did you call me here?!” “To let me out, of course,” the Mad Great Being said, sounding confused. “Did I not explain it already? You have a bit of Velika inside of you. Just grab the bars, picture whichever version of those different White Ones inside of you that you want, and they’ll be deleted in exchange for freeing me!” “That sounds… overly complicated,” he muttered. The Mad Great Being shrugged cheerfully. “I don’t make the rules, dear.” Resisting the urge to groan, Voltex took a deep breath before slowly nodding. “Okay. So I grab the bars, lose some memories that were never mine to begin with, this whole place comes down, you get freed, and I get to walk away?” “Yep!” “Awesome. The answer is no.” “Great! Let’s just - wait, no?” “No.” The Mad Great Being frowned, seeming perplexed by his refusal. “No, you see, you have to say yes. Because I foresaw myself being freed. So… it’s happening. You can’t stop it.” Voltex shrugged, trying to ignore the gears that fell loose and clattered to a floor as a result of the action. “I think I can. Even if you won’t let me move, I’ll just stay here as long as it takes. I can induce a permanent sleep-state in myself, you know. One of the perks of this body, despite its state. Maybe somebody else will come along and free you, but it won’t be me.” “I specifically saw you freeing me. Robot body and everything,” the Mad Great Being replied, sounding frustrated before beginning to mutter to themselves. “Hmmph. What did I do wrong? Did I miss something? What if… no, no, that wouldn’t work. But then… no. Maybe…? Oh! Yes! I will give you a reward!” “A reward,” Voltex replied. “Yes!” the Mad Great Being exclaimed, holding out for what appeared to be some sort of data stick. “Free me and you get this! A map to all of the other Great Beings still on Spherus-Magna!” “Why would I want that?” he asked. “Because I know one, he was always friendlier than the rest,” the being said, sounding excited. “Never wanted me locked up, liked you all a lot. His name was Angonce. He can fit you with a fancy new upgraded body and everything! Better than that piece of junk you’re stuck inside right now, at least.” “I-” “Come on, we both know you can’t refuse it! You were practically programmed to survive before you became a robot! Now it’s like… you just have to! Right? You can’t refuse something that’ll help you survive!” “...you seem to know a lot more about me than I know about myself,” Voltex replied, more wary than before. The Mad Great Being tapped their head. “Foresight, remember? You’ll discover it for yourself and share the information someday. And then you’ll die.” “And then I’ll - wait, what? Why would you tell me that?!” “Because you deserve to know!” the Mad Great Being responded, still annoyingly cheerful. “So, are you going to bust me out of here or what? Quickly, too. It’s almost nap time!” “Nap… what? I don’t even… I don’t even understand.” “You don’t need to! Just break the bars! Forget one of those White One fellows and break me out, darling.” He shook his head. “I still don’t trust you.” “Oh, you don’t need to trust me; you just need to free me! Come on now, dear Tex. I might as well be your mother, of a sort. Would you really leave your own mother to rot inside of a jail cell for all of eternity?” “...I don’t even know what a mother is,” he muttered, shaking his head before snapping, “and don’t call me Tex! What a stupid nickname! My real name isn’t that long.” “Oh please, you know you love it,” the Mad Great Being replied, waving their hand dismissively. “As for what a mother is, well, I can give you the answer to that along with the map to the other Great Beings! How does that sound, Tex?” “Stop calling me Tex and you have a deal,” Voltex replied, scowling. “You have got to be the single most irritating person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting.” The Mad Great Being clapped their hands together, giggling gleefully. “Excellent! Very well then, darling Voltex! Grab the bars, and shatter them with your robotic might! Forget one of those ugly White Ones inside of your head! Free me!” With a great deal of reluctance, Voltex did just that. The dilapidated Maxilos unit he was inhabiting sputtered and sparked, his footsteps clanking upon the stone floor as he approached the jail cell and grabbed onto the bars, forcing down the feeling of trepidation that he felt. He shut his eyes and concentrated on the memories that did not belong to him - and just as quickly as he had pictured them they began to vanish, as the bars to the cell shimmered out of existence until he was clutching thin air. He opened his eyes, barely managing to keep his balance as he nearly toppled over. The Mad Great Being chuckled, pressing his staff back into his hands as he stared at them, dumbfounded. “Here you are, darling,” they said, handing him the data stick. “A map to the Great Beings, starting with Angonce, as well as a dictionary and a few other miscellaneous pieces of information. Should it ever be necessary, I do hope that they will help you to integrate with the cultures of the locals with more success than the rest of the Matoran are having.” “I… okay,” he muttered, his gaze falling to the stick in his hand. “Um… cool. So now what?” “You need to get going into the jungle, I expect,” the Great Being responded, patting him on the shoulder lightly. “It’s almost nap time for you, darling. You’ll understand what I mean when the time comes! As for me… I do believe I shall travel the world!” They laughed at the confused expression on the face of the Maxilos unit as she walked away. Upon reaching the now-open exit, they briefly turned back to face him. “Good luck Tex, darling,” they said, giving him a small smile. “Do try to take care of yourself.” Speechless, Voltex was only able to nod; it was only after the Mad Great Being had vanished that he realized they had continued to call him ‘Tex’, causing him to curse with frustration. ---Present Day--- ---40 AR [After Reformation]--- The tall, lithe being shifted her weight from one foot to the other, pulling the hood of her dirty brown cloak up so that it hid the ornate helmet that she wore; what little of her emerald green armor could be seen gleamed in the sunlight. She rested one black gloved hand upon the pommel of her sword, the other shielding her eyes from the sun as she took in the sight of the city before her. Sixteen years of wandering had led her back to civilization at last. At her side, a small bronze Matoran of Fire was jittery, hopping from one foot to the other, the Kanohi Kakama on his face practically vibrating with excitement. “New Atero,” he whispered, his excitement flowing out of his mouth alongside his voice. “Is this really it, Lady Araina?” The gloved hand that had been shielding her eyes was lowered to rest upon the excitable Ta-Matoran’s head, gently freezing him in place; she laughed lightly when he glanced up at her, his expression worried; at the sound, his face shifted back into its excited expression. “Yes it is, my dear Bronze,” she replied. “This is where we shall find the rest of our team.” TO BE CONTINUED! In CHAPTER ONE, we will officially meet the rest of the team - as well as getting some interesting backstory for Bronze! And perhaps a few other appearances as well? REVIEW TOPIC
  8. I had a dream... ...that turned into an idea...that turned into a poll. Because dreams are better with polls. And also because dreams becoming reality is awesome...except when it's not. Whatever. Go VOOOOOOOOOOTE! (also this is not related to my contest why would you think that)
  9. Lyichir

    Ten Years

    Hard to believe it's been ten years since I first joined this little ol' website back in the heady days of 2006. Both myself and the site have come a long way since then. Here's to ten more!
  10. The Story STARRING: Zox Tomana, as himself | Toa Smoke Monster, as himself | Driesen, Captain Tronameg, and White One by Lucina | Letagi, as himself | Portalfig, as himself | Unit, as himself | Xyron by xccj | Pahrak #0579 | and Ghidora. ALSO STARRING: Sanskrit | Vakama | Mazeka | Botar's Replacement Other characters may appear in passing, but the above characters are guaranteed an appearance. Chapters will be posted weekly until I finish writing the story. After that point, they will be posted every 48 hours. Please let me know how the character representations work out for you. And the usual comments, criticism, and everything else welcome.
  11. Chapter 1 Sanskrit found herself in the middle of a battle. The night sky flashed with lightning up above, as she dueled Angonce with a sword, the two blades cutting and slashing in the rain. The road was slippery and… “Sanskrit! Wake up please.” An alarm sounded, in her ears and in her mind, forcing her to sit up groggily. Her eyes registered the regal form of Zox Tomana standing by the door, holding a lamp in his hand that cast an eerie glow over the bookcase on the far wall. Annoyed, she made a gesture and the room brightened, electric lights and computer screens springing to life. Intruders…second floor core breach… “Sanskrit, please,” Zox said firmly. “Heremus is badly injured, up to the point that I need your help.” My help. Heremus? No, please not Heremus. She dismissed the computer screen and activated its security with a wave of her hand, hoping that would be good enough. She hugged her legs as her death sense ability flared to life, searching for the presence of the death force. Immediately she gasped. A death near, recent, close. Not Heremus, but one of his guards, named Salvertak. The rawness indicated violence, but not the sharp piercing glint of a stabbing. This was blunt, a hit with an object, an object not intended for the purpose of killing. The killer… “Sanskrit.” Zox Tomana said. Sanskrit held up her hand. The killer was not a Great Being like her or Zox. The death force around him was swirling and edgy, covering him like one of the beings from the Matoran Universe. That force was hungry, unsatisfied, unlike the calm peace that surrounded her and Zox Tomana. This being had killed before, and if he did not get what he wanted, he would again. She found her hands on the keyboard, typing in a rush, putting all that in. Unit would want to know about it for his investigation. Her hands came off the keyboard. Heremus… The force of death lurked next to him, but Heremus was pushing it away. “Heremus will live,” Sanskrit said. Zox Tomana sighed. “That wasn’t why I came.” Sanskrit turned to Zox Tomana and tilted her head, refusing to give the older and wiser Great Being the satisfaction of her having to inquire of the real reason of Zox Tomana’s arrival. The two Great Beings sat in silence for several seconds, neither willing to speak. Zox is a healer. He’s here because Heremus is injured, and...”You think my Kanohi may be of use.” “I want a safety net, just in case,” Zox looked nervously out the door. While the healer in front of her was not so prone to pride like some of the other Great Beings, it was clear that he wished to inspire confidence in his ability to heal, not that he made a habit of relying on an eccentric young Great Being. However, having the Great Beings’ leader die on his watch would be far worse. Sanskrit gritted her teeth as the last traces of grogginess faded. “I would much rather be helping Unit,” she said, rocking back and forth on her knees and making her chair creak. Zox winced. “And if Heremus dies and you did nothing to stop it?” “My power can only keep him alive for a few minutes. And he isn’t dying.” “But if I don’t heal him, he soon will be.” “Then do it.” “It’s not that simple,” Zox said. “I have to do a procedure that could endanger his life more. He could tip over the edge. I need you to hold back that edge.” “Alright, Healer Tomana. I hope this goes quickly. I really want to talk to Unit.” * * * Vakama was sitting by the Sacred Fire in his room in New Atero when a white and menacing figure broke down the door with a large crash. The Turaga of Fire immediately activated his mask of concealment and jumped down to the floor as a burst of light fired over his head. He scrambled around the fire to the other side of the room, hoping to stay out of view, only for a burst of light by the door to reveal his shadow slanting across the walls. He barely managed to get out of the way before a laser split the space where his head had been just minutes before. “Give it up, old man,” the voice hissed. “The Matoran and Toa will always be under my rule.” “Never.” Vakama said, moving around the room. “We deserve a new place, a new start, away from tyrants like you.” “You know who said that to me last?” the Av-Matoran said. “A stupid Matoran named Voltex, right before I-“ He was interrupted by a vicious punch to the jawline, followed shortly by a kick in the stomach. Mazeka grabbed White One’s laser rifle and pointed it at his jaw, only for a burst of light to nearly blind him. This caused Mazeka to fire the rifle, punching a neat hole in the Av-Matoran’s armor before he countered with a laser of his own. The shockwave of the two bolts hitting echoed in the narrow corridor, causing a whole bunch of Matoran to wake up and come to the scene. But by then, the tyrant assassin had activated a teleportation device and was gone. Mazeka shivered as he accepted Toa Smoke Monster’s hand up, and heard someone in the distance mumble something about pancakes. Vakama shook his head. “We must embrace the three virtues – unity, duty, and destiny. First, unity, which means that we must all be together, not fighting among ourselves. Duty – we must not harm each other – that is not our duty to the Great Spirit. Destiny – we must embrace the destinies of ourselves, but most importantly, we must accept the destinies of others.” “Yes, Turaga,” chorused all of the Matoran in the corridor. “Good,” Vakama grumbled. “At least someone listens to me around here.” Review Topic
  12. So! Now that we are a week and a day into 2016, I wanted to ask a question of you all: What are you looking forward to see/do (or hoping to see/do) on BZPower this year? I'm personally looking forward to seeing how Soran's new CYOA Comic The Road to Home turns out.
  13. I wrote this short story as my secret santa gift to Dina Saruyama; in it, a Matoran character (named after but not necessarily based upon her, except the love for dinosaurs) runs into a strange robot in the jungle of Bota-Magna. The robot is in a state of disrepair, and the two discuss the holidays and a few other things. --- BY THE FIRESIDE It’s the holidays again. Just like every year. She’ll be spending them alone. Just like every year. Everyone spends the rest of the year as normal, perfectly content to be alone, perfectly content to be horrible to each other, perfectly content to pretend as if they haven’t already started walking back down the exact same path that they had managed to stray from. But then it’s two weeks before the Reformation anniversary, and suddenly it’s not okay to be alone, it’s not okay to be horrible to each other, it’s not okay to pretend as if they haven’t already started walking back down the exact same path that they had managed to stray from, even though they’re supposedly celebrating the fact that they strayed at all. Forgetting that they should have found new path to walk along instead. It doesn’t matter to her very much anyway; she’s become something of a non-presence ever since the reformation. Well, since before the Reformation if she’s honest with herself, but at least back then everybody was too busy fighting one war after another to even care about who was who. Nowadays with the peace and society long ago back to normal in the twenty-five years it has been, there’s plenty of room and plenty of time for people like her to become outcasts. She hasn’t done anything wrong per se. But her views don’t align neatly with the mindless, shambling horde that most of the former Great Spirit Robot inhabitants have become. On most matters, she disagrees even more with the planet’s natives. Despite Mata-Nui’s best efforts and final wishes, the divide between Spherus-Magnans and her own kind is clear, and it grows by the day. They might be in a time of peace, but it is a messy one. Flimsy, and liable to snap at any moment. She can feel another war looming on the horizon, despite any and all attempts to pretend as if it isn’t so. It’s part of why, when the holidays come, she does not celebrate with everyone else. For them, it is designed to be a time of joy, a time of companionship. They partake in what they claim to be ‘remembering’, but it would be more accurately labelled as ‘forgetting’, what with their grand tales of triumph, and the few quiet moments during the wars in which they felt happy. For her, it is a time of frustration and loneliness. She remembers, more than anyone, what it was like before the Reformation. She can share tales of loss and devastation. Her quiet moments during the wars involve sitting by the side of friends as they died. So when the holidays roll around and the rest of the society jumps up to party with smiles and laughter, she instead withdraws into herself, travelling alone. She tried remaining in the city for the first few years, but found it to be immensely challenging. It is far easier to take on the holidays alone. Every year, she journeys to the Bota-Magna forests and sets up camp in the trees, and studies. She studies the fauna, she studies the insects, she studies the animals, and she studies everything else. Her focus this year (and every year before, and it will be every year to follow) is the dinosaurs. They are gargantuan, many of them the largest land creatures that Spherus-Magna has to offer. Some of them feed only on plants; others only on meat; others still on metal. She hates the metal eaters. They aren’t natural; no living organic creature has ever or will ever require metal to sustain itself unless tampered with. And make no mistake, the dinosaurs she studies – all of them, every single one of them – has been tampered with. It took place long, long ago, millennia upon millennia before the reformation, back before even the shattering, when the once-mythical Great Beings still roamed the planet, experimenting everything they knew and creating everything they saw. The Great Beings modified the dinosaurs. She has not found a single dinosaur across her years of studying them that does not have armored plating growing on top of its skin. Certain dinosaurs have other enhancements, although all of the additions are rather obsolete compared to the Great Beings’ later work. She is thankful for this small blessing; it will make it easier for her to remove the so-called enhancements and return the dinosaurs to their natural state. Still, one small blessing does not stop her from hating the beings that were so self-absorbed and narcissistic to believe themselves as ‘great’. Shaking her head to clear it, she returns to her work, and her studies. --- For two full days, she has fleshed out her studies, venturing further and further into the Bota-Magna forest. She walks among the dinosaurs – the more peaceful plant-eaters, at least – and they are unbothered by her scent, by now familiar with it after all of these years. As she does each year, she ventures forth where she has not ever gone before, slowly crossing the great expanse of trees, taking notes and studying her new surroundings, leaving markers so that she will not lose her way (although if she did, she would not be worried). The afternoon is slowly fading away into evening as the sun sets and the sky is swathed in shades of pink and orange when she makes a new discovery. One of the dinosaurs pokes at a heap of metal with one leg before huffing and stomping away; curiosity gets the better of her and, rather than follow the dinosaur, she instead slips through the trees towards the heap of metal. When she is finally standing over it, she realizes that it is not merely some pile of junk, but rather a humanoid robot; albeit it in great disrepair. It is clad in armor of gunmetal gray, highlighted by bright red. Its mask is the vibrant red, although the eyes are dark and lifeless, and there is a scar running through its left eye. As her eyes trail across the rest of the robot, she takes in the damage. Its left arm hangs loosely, there is a small crater in its chest, and armor is clearly missing from every other limb. The shredded pieces of what she can only guess to be some sort of projectile launcher are embedded in its right shoulder, the attachment for the missing launcher sparking ever few seconds. Wires are visible all over the body, and rust eats at the edges of every armor piece. She recognizes this robotic body; the name flickers in the back of her mind. Maxilos. Yes, that is its name. She remembers tyrants using many of them as personal guards when they ruled in the Coliseum of Metru-Nui, and later the Order of Mata-Nui using legions of the mindless robots to enforce their own rule across the universe before the Destiny War. She remembers fighting against them, destroying them. She remembers being assigned to re-program them during the Destiny War, and succeeding; how the robots had helped to tip the scales in favor of those fighting for freedom, and how they had held the last lines of defence so that they could emerge victorious during the Reformation War. She also remembers every single one of them later being melted down, having been declared unreliable. So what is one doing all the way out here, fifty-seven years later? --- She drags what is left of the robot to her campsite and sits it up against a tree across the campfire from her tent. She leaves it be as she builds up the fire, adding logs to keep the flames going as night falls and the air grows chilly. She has just finished building a very rough spit to cook her evening meal and sat down to rest when the robot shudders, activating on its own and turning to look at her, bright blue eyes gleaming in the night. In a flash, she has her disk launcher loaded with a fragmentation disk and aimed directly at the Maxilos unit; it does not react. The fire crackles. They stare at each other for a full minute before the robot’s mouth opens and it speaks, its mechanical voice sounding far more human – and far more tired – than it should. “Where are we?” She glares at it suspiciously, but answers its question nonetheless, her voice sharp and cutting. “Bota-Magna.” The Maxilos unit slowly nods, turning to gaze into the fire, sighing (she ignores this; it must be her imagination, for robots do not sigh). After a long moment, it speaks again. “…what year is it?” She ignores how weak and tired it sounds, but once again gives it the answer it is looking for. “Twenty-five years since the Reformation.” It nods again. “Good… at least I know that system is functioning,” it says, sounding, for all intents and purposes, like a Matoran itself. “You may lower your weapon… rest assured that I will not harm you. Even if I wished to do so, well, I think my current state speaks for itself.” She lowers the disk launcher, but keeps a wary eye on the Maxilos unit as she does so. “You don’t sound like a Maxilos unit.” “I should hope not,” the robot replies, chuckling softly. “I thought they were all melted down,” she continues. The robot glances up at her before responding, “they were; all of the others have been gone for… what did you say? Twenty-five years, give or take. I am the only one left.” “You’re autonomous. You shouldn’t be.” “You’re right,” the robot says, nodding along before looking at her expectantly. “What might that mean?” “Either you’ve somehow become self-aware, or you’re not a Maxilos.” The robot chuckles again. “Believe it or not, both are correct. This Maxilos unit did become self-aware; about fifty-seven years ago for you, thanks to the influence of a Ba-Matoran named Quisoves. Of course, its AI is long gone now; the body remains, but the AI reached its natural point of decay nearly two centuries ago.” “Two centuries ago? I thought you said it became self-aware only fifty-seven years ago.” “Fifty-seven years for you,” the robot corrects. “For me, that date was nearly four hundred years ago, give or take. It becomes hard to keep track of time when you travel through dimensions as I have.” “You’re not making any sense,” she says, scowling. “I do not expect you to understand,” the robot says, sounding regretful. “But to finish answering the question you have not asked… yes, I am not a Maxilos. Once, I was a Matoran rather like you; a Ba-Matoran, actually, although not the one that made this unit self-aware. I was dying, but… well, I am rather smart. I found a way to insert my ‘soul’, so to speak, inside this machine instead; and in here I have remained, ever since.” “You cheated death.” “Yes.” “Was it worth it?” The robot shrugs. “Is anything worth it? The moment you begin living, each step you take is one step closer to dying. At the end of the day, one begins to wonder whether there is a point to anything at all.” “You’re avoiding the question,” she notes. “I am,” the Maxilos replies, tilting its head in acknowledgement. “Perhaps it was worth it. Who knows? The mission I took part in may have failed if I had not transferred my soul into this machine. So maybe it was worth it, in a way. But to me… I would wager that it was not worth it, no. Most days that I am awake and aware, I find myself regretting more than accepting.” “Why did you do it?” she asks. “Why not just allow yourself to pass on?” “I was afraid,” the robot says, so quietly that she struggles to hear it. “Afraid of death, of the blankness and the void that would follow. I may regret many things, but if there is one thing I do know, it is how to survive. How to avoid death, to forestall it and delay it. I still fear it, to be truthful with you; but I have come to accept that I cannot flee from it for much longer.” Silence falls between them for several minutes as she ponders the robot’s words and the robot stares blankly into the fire. She wraps some dough around a bit of meat and sticks it onto the spit, slowly turning it over the flames. The edges slowly begin to darken as it cooks; she sprinkles a few spices over top of it, and the smell wafts into the air. Once it is finished, she grabs a pair of tongs and pries her meal off of the spit, touching it to her palm and absorbing all of the nutrients until all that remains is a husk. She shakes the tongs and the husk vanishes into dust that blows away with the breeze. Setting two more logs upon the fire, she turns her gaze upon the robot again to find it watching her with something akin to curiosity in its eyes. “What?” she asks. “I was simply wondering why you might be all the way out in the forests of Bota-Magna at this time of year, all alone,” it replies. “It is the holidays, is it not? The anniversary of the Reformation?” She cannot stop the frown from appearing on her face. “It is.” “You do not celebrate it like everyone else?” The frown turns into a scowl. “Do you?” The Maxilos unit shakes it head, looking away into the darkness outside of the campsite. “No. I remember what the Reformation War was like, and the Destiny War, and even the Uprising War before that, as well as my experiences travelling outside of this universe. The celebrations… they merely remind me that society is once again blind to its faults. They refuse to see, acknowledge, or accept that they have set themselves back upon the same path that led to those wars in the first place.” She nods mutely, some of the robot’s words ringing ominously in her ears. “Besides all of that,” the robot continues, sagging slightly, “my friends and I were too weary to play much of a role in those latter two wars. We played our part in the Uprising War, but nobody remembers that.” I do, she thinks, but she does not share it out loud. “Who are you?” she asks instead, hoping to turn the conversation away from the wars. “Someone far beyond their years,” the robot replies, waving the question away. “Who are you?” “Someone alone,” she answers, “who recognizes the faults of society and is powerless to help it.” The Maxilos unit nods as if in understanding; perhaps, she reasons, it does. “So you avoid the celebrations. What do you do instead?” “I study the dinosaurs,” she says, her mood growing bitter again. “I want to fix them.” “Fix them?” “The Great Beings ruined them. They’re unnatural now; armor plating where they should have feathers, some feeding on machines and energy instead of meat and plantlife,” she snaps. “I want to fix them someday, turn them back to how they should be.” The robot nods again. “Your quest is admirable.” She cannot help but gaze at the robot with disbelief; the robot chuckles. “It is true,” it says. “You have clearly dedicated yourself to what many would call a hopeless and insurmountable task. You seek to return something to how it should be, rather than obliviously leave it be, and I respect that. In fact… if you would allow me to, I believe I might be able to help you.” “I… don’t understand,” she replies, shaking her head. “You… agree with me? Most people don’t.” “I am not most people,” the robot responds, sighing forlornly. “More than most, I understand what it means - what it is like - to be alone. I know that it is freeing. I know that it is also a burden, one not often willingly undertaken.” “Perhaps I want to be alone,” she says. The fire pops and crackles. “Do you?” the robot asks. “It is the holidays, after all. A time meant for gathering with friends and others close to you. You spend them alone every single year, or so it would seem. Is it because you want to, or because you have to?” The silence stretches for a long moment before she finally answers, “a little bit of both.” “If it helps… I do have information - and some leads - that might help to speed up the pace of your project. Allow for progress you might not otherwise make,” the robot continues, holding out its hand. “Look at this.” She watches as a blue hologram flickers into view, hovering a few inches above the robot’s palm. It is a sphere, one she recognizes as Spherus-Magna. A red dot blinks somewhere in the northern hemisphere of the planet; as she watches, the hologram zooms in towards the marked location. “During my travels, I came across a Great Being, one who was turned insane after coming into contact with the Mask of Life,” the robot says, its voice barely a whisper. “He was imprisoned, and wished to escape his bonds; I helped him to do so, and in return he offered me this. A map of the entire planet, one that would help me to track down others.” “Others?” “Other Great Beings,” the Maxilos unit clarified. “He claimed that most had fled the planet long ago, or simply died; but there is one who grew to hate what they had become and what they had done. A Great Being that might be sympathetic to your cause, and be… persuaded to help you.” “I will not deal with Great Beings,” she snaps. “And how exactly do you plan to return the dinosaurs of Bota-Magna to their proper, natural state without them?” She frowns. “I haven’t gotten that far yet. I’ll find a way.” “I’m saying that you don’t need to, not necessarily,” the robot replies. “If we can find this Great Being, and he agrees to help us, your task might be completed sooner than you had imagined. But I am sure that, should you decide against accepting his help, he would value that decision.” She scowls at the fire. “And maybe I simply don’t want to fix the problem. Each year, it gives me something to do, an excuse to escape the celebrations of a war that would be better off forgotten entirely rather than half-remembered. If I solve the problem, what am I supposed to do then?” “Find another problem, of course,” the robot says quietly. “It is what I do. It’s what all of my friends do as well, or so I hear. There are many projects of the Great Beings active on this planet, some more harmful than they are good; they could keep you busy for many years.” The fire crackles. She closes her eyes and sighs. “Fine. Let’s find this Great Being. But I reserve the right to refuse any help he offers… as well as the right to kick him for every wrong he has done to this planet.” “Of course.” “One more thing, then, before I retire for the evening,” she says. “If I am going to be travelling with you, I want to know your name.” The Maxilos unit turns its gaze to her. The hologram in its palm flickers away; somehow, its bright blue eyes look lost and alone. “You can call me Tex.” She holds out her hand; the robot shakes it. “Well, Tex, it is nice to meet you. You can call me Dina.” If it was possible for a Maxilos unit to smile, the robot was now doing just that. “It is nice to meet you as well, Dina. I look forward to the adventure that awaits us.” The robot sits back against the tree, closing its eyes. It becomes still and silent, shifting into some sort of sleep mode. She remains by the fireside, gazing into the flickering flames. The crackling of the fire is calming, and soothing; she waits until it has burned out and the night is dark and silent before retiring to her tent. She sleeps soundly for the first time in years, and it is good. End.
  14. Black Six

    BZPower Company

    No, BZPower is not getting incorporated. Halo 5: Guardians is releasing next week, and today 343 Industries announced their clan feature for the game and started to allow people to make and join them. BZPower, the Halo 5 company. I'm pretty excited for this game, although I'm sure I won't be able to play as much as I'd like. Still though, I think it might be fun to play with BZPower members. If you're planning on picking up Halo 5, feel free to join the group!
  15. So, there's this book called Lego: A Love Story, and apparently on page 53, my BZP user account is referenced. How do I know this? Because its literally the tenth result if you google "bzpower zarkan." Has anyone read this book, and if so, can someone tell me why exactly a random lego book ended up referencing me without my knowledge.
  16. That way I can't be accused of breaking my word. =P But in any case, Reborn has begun! I should have the next chapter up by next weekend, if not sooner.
  17. Hello! I wasn't sure if this belongs here, or in the bug/feedback tracker forum, so I figured I put it here, and worst comes to worst it just gets moved. Anyways, it all started with me looking for a entry from an oooold bbc contest that I couldn't find anywhere, which prompted me to look for the history topic later on. Surprised to find one was non existent, I did some research and found that nobody had remade the topic yet, partly because of the missing entries between November 2008 (the latest web archive of the topic) and October 2011 (the oldest BBC contest that can still be found on the forum), and also because it appears that those who were going to try and put it back up simply couldn't find the time to reconstruct it all, with the last mention of it I could find somewhere around a year ago. That all being said, I have done some extensive searching on the interwebs, and found a decent amount of information about the lost BBC entries, which you can see here: Dropbox Link (because Brickshelf wont let me upload .txt's) its far from complete, but at least its something, and I'm sure it could be added upon if any of the staff or something have good knowledge of the missing past, or access to old files on their drives of deleted topics, or something like that. Anyways, Here comes my question, finally! Would it be useful to BZPower if I took the information I gathered, along with the existing older and newer still-archived information to make a properly formatted and such history post of all the past BBC entries, which I could then send to an Admin or someone to have made effectively into the new BBC history topic? I personally think its important for BZP to preserve its history, even with so much of it lost in the past, and I'm hoping by doing this I can help keep some of the old days in view of those just joining/still here in the present (And hopefully I didn't miss something along the way, and there actually is a new topic hiding somewhere/I missed a recent post where someone else is planning to reconstruct it/theres a spot somewhere that isn't posted, but has all the BBC information already ready to be; apologies if any of this is the case!) --Akaku: Master of Flight
  18. Earlier I replied to a post in S&T about Bionicle G1 and G2 being connected, despite Lego saying it's a reboot. That point has been refuted a thousand times, but it got me thinking about the big problem with those sorts of theories in the first place. In science, one of the essential qualities that a theory can have is that it's falsifiable. What that means is that the theory is constructed in such a way that it can be proven demonstrably false by new evidence. Falsifiability is an essential part of science, and a big part of what separates it from pseudoscience, religion, and superstition. Obviously Bionicle fan theories are a great deal different from scientific theories. But I can't help but think that falsifiability should still be somewhat of a priority. If nothing (not even direct and explicit contradictory statements) can disprove your theory, than how is it even worth discussing? As an example, I can "theorize" that Matoran in G1 can reproduce like humans. Sure, Greg has stated the exact opposite numerous times. But he could have just been lying. Unless you're willing to accept evidence at face value, you can literally claim ANYTHING about the Bionicle story or characters and never be proven wrong. Vakama never betrayed the Toa Hordika because Web of Shadows wasn't canon! Mata Nui wasn't actually a giant robot, because the events of 2008 through 2010 never actually happened! All these theories and more are valid if there is no longer a single standard of evidence that can be taken as authoritative. P.S.: I don't want this to seem like I'm condemning headcanon. Just because the official story happens one way doesn't mean you're not allowed to reinterpret it, or pick and choose the parts you like! But for a fandom to function, there has to be some shared frame of reference that defines how a story or franchise is experienced. Headcanons won't necessarily make sense to someone who hasn't experienced the actual story and characters and doesn't understand where the headcanon diverges from that. That's the importance of canon—it defines and categorizes the official story as it was initially presented, so as to foster a shared understanding of the story among the fandom at large.
  19. A few days ago I had my nine-year anniversary on BZP. One more and that's an entire decade on this site. Another year after that and I'll have been on BZP half my life. Wow, isn't that one scary? Crazy to think that it's been so long. But it's been a fun journey with all you folks! Here's to many more years, eh? Anyway, hopefully this summer I'll have some free time to MOC, since I haven't really built anything since New Year's. I still have those unused parts draft pieces, as well as a birthday present BrickLink order, so there's definitely going to be fun stuff to toy around with. We'll have to see. Otherwise, I've been playing a lot of Monster Hunter 4 Ultimate since I got my copy a few months ago. If anyone has the game and wants to hunt sometime let me know so we can set up a hunting party! ~B~
  20. Do they notice the irony? (Yes, I just complained about people who complain about people who complain about people who complain. So complain about me. ) Seriously, if someone complains to start out with, why can't they stomach a little complaining about them? If it's okay for one, it's okay for the other. (Yes, I posted a random blog entry. I'm busy. Dogsitting three dogs and working heavily on the FCG entry. Two of the dogs hiiiigh energy. )
  21. P~M

    "MOC Boot Camp"

    I just had the silly idea of some sort of "MOC Boot Camp" where a bunch of talented (and well-known) builders get together and come up with a sort of training program for prospective MOCers, or just anyone who wants to get better at Bionicle building. It could be in the format of a video series, or a picture-and-text post, or whatever, really. Bloggers, what do you think? Has anything like this been done before? Does anyone want to participate?
  22. Hey everybody. Sorry it's been a while since I last blogged! But we're less than halfway through February and already there's been more than enough news in the last week and a half to fill a blog entry. On Saturday, January 31st I was invited by Black Six to become a BZPower News Reporter. I jumped at the opportunity. I already report news to BZPower rather frequently, and this was an opportunity to both do that in an official capacity and help other people get the news THEY find on the front page. The news was announced two days ago. I'm still learning the ropes, but hopefully soon I can be posting news articles. But in the meantime, something has come up that might make me even busier. You see, just a day earlier, I learned that the LEGO Group had liked an application I had put in for a design position in their girls' category and wanted a Skype interview with me that coming Monday. The interview was a great experience. I got to speak with Rosario Costa, the design director for the LEGO Group's entire girls' category. It was an honor for me to even be able to speak with a designer so influential, and I felt like the interview went well. I was told I'd hear back within the next week about whether I would be moving on to the next stage of the recruitment process. In the meantime, I finished inking my Gali drawing from December and got set up to receive BZPower news e–mails. Yesterday I got another e–mail from LEGO recruitment. It was an invitation to an all-expense-paid trip to attend a recruitment workshop in Billund! The workshop will be on the 23rd and 24th of this month. The e–mail also included a design assignment to work on over the next two weeks (the LEGO Group will be shipping me bricks to use). I recognize, if I get this job, I will have to give up my recently acquired BZPower news position. But even if I do well in this workshop, I have no idea how long it might be before I hear whether I got the job, let alone before I start work. In the meantime, I hope I will be able to help the news team report on LEGO news, including the impending release of the Elves theme which I've been eagerly anticipating. Working as a LEGO designer has long been a dream of mine, and even if I don't get the job I'm thrilled to have made it this far, and that confidence will help motivate me to apply for other LEGO job openings in the future. And the workshop experience should also give me a taste of just what it will take for me to achieve this lifelong dream.
  23. I ask this because for a while I've been considering getting Premier Membership, but I'm not too sure if it is worth the money of $40.50 US (BZP's life). I'd like to hear your thoughts and experience if you've got or have had Premier Membership at one stage, so I may decide whether I should get it or not. EDIT/UPDATE: I got Lifetime Premier Membership. I finally decided.
  24. Well, after 30 minutes of Wonder Trade I managed to trade away 24 of my nicknamed Binacle. But as I did so I began to notice that none of the people I traded seemed to be BZPers. So instead of trading away the whole box, I decided to get rid of the last ones a bit differently. I have six #Binacle2015 left, with one destiny—to be traded DIRECTLY to BZP members who are interested in them! For those who don't have me on their Friend List, my Friend Code is 0817-4310-5392. If you're interested in one of my Binacle (or just want to add me to your Friend List for the heck of it), either post your Friend Code here or PM it to me and we can set up a time to trade!
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