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  1. Hello all. A very good friend of mine from a nearby town in Bulgaria, who first found me in this very forum over 11 years ago, has died earlier today in his sleep of what appears to be heart failure. His name was Grigor and his BZP alias was Obsidian. Grigor would've turned 30 this month. He was an avid BIONICLE and Star Wars fan, a talented dentist and an all-around nice guy. Throughout the years, Grigor remained one of my best friends and I felt it necessary to commemorate our friendship right here, in the place that brought us together. I am absolutely heartbroken. May you rest in peace, old friend. I will cherish your memory for as long as I live. To anyone reading this, I hope you have a happy new year and may you never have to endure the shock and cruelty of a friend taken away so unforgivably young.
  2. Upon the blackness of the despairing night, the souls of light pain in a world controlled by evil. The night shines no light, the darkness of the night is eternal now. With unity is at lost, the heroes are fallen. The darkness has risen, but when light is birthed, light shines brighter in the dark. The red clad empath pains and bleeds evermore the night of the darkness risen. His soul glows light blue with patience of a greater day. But in his heart, he glows with orange of valor and change. He walks into the night, baring blades of light, and a world surrounding him. The evil dance of death, and the ticking of clocks around his being. Figures of black gaseous form and red eyes and skulls, the evils of this world around him, his idols come to save him from his darkened time. The loss of friends, and so much aches at his heart. And the light is gone, except from him. Now he is truly alone, or so he feels. The hands of alliance he reaches for, and they reach back. He knows now he is not alone. He begged for help, for himself and his faults. One loss will not destroy him in total, and certainly not forever. The light, his friends come to aid him in a world distraught by darkness. He is not alone, unity of six and evermore is risen for him, and for the world around him, no, the world around them. And they fight into the night, and until the light comes, illuminating the darkness away. His heart is scarred into twilight. He awakens in his bed, a dark storming night, the dream of evil is gone. He lives in a world surrounding him, a broken world. But he has his friends, loss one, gained many. Or rather he counted his blessings, the world around him is brighter, he made it bright. But that is but a dream. He has unity in a world distraught by shadow. He must aid himself, and help himself. With Valor, he can make change, with Patience he can withstand anything, with Kindness he builds bonds, and shows for the strongest and weakest of them. With justice he declares his good will, to change and aid, even to those who hurt him, he is forgiving and understanding. With his will to persevere he will not falter. And with his integrity grand stronger than ever he stands, united. Determined to make a change to his world, with confidence to do so, he can take down one of three paths. Those paths to help, to hurt, or to simply watch. In the darkened night, he fights forevermore, united with Earth, Light, Fire, Ice, and simply good by his side if anything, undefined in the time of which he fights. He has unity, he has friends. And I see this now, I have friends, I am not lost in a world darkened. I pained, I survived, I pained, I healed. He stands alone now, but not alone in heart. As the sun rises, his scarred and bleeding face is revealed by slight by the rising light of the sun, over a red foggy dawn. Numbed on one side, his hair wild and long, but groomed. His face scarred. His soul shining bright, in a world of darkness, the light bares evermore. I have killed my fear, I am united. I am the Light to Illuminate Against the Darkness, in the soul. And a scarred heart, shining twilight. The loss of one is temporary, he feels and hopes. The value of friendship is greater than monetary wealth. Greater than just a commonality, a crucial understanding it is. Now, he stands united, defining his own life. Maybe he is but a dreamer, a child. Perhaps even naive, but he will not die, for his strength is powerful, but his unity is even stronger. To overcome the flow of time, action is greater. I pained, but I have Unity.
  3. It all started so quickly. A few miners came back from the far reaches of our territory in a heated argument, which quickly escalated into an all out brawl. Once someone managed to stop the fight, I realized who they were, some of the last people I would have expected to have an argument. "Are you feeling okay, Daban?" someone called out from the back. "Too much heat for you?" "No, I'm fine," said Daban. "Except...I've stopped dreaming." --<>-- We all laughed it off for a while. Who cares if a few people stop dreaming? Pretty soon though, it wasn't just a few. More Agori began complaining of not being able to dream, and violent attacks became common. Somehow, the lack of dreams was affecting everyone, and the Dreaming Plague, as we had begun to call it, threatened to wipe out our tribe. The few survivors who seemed immune had sealed themselves in the old abandoned mines. It was around this time that I stopped dreaming as well. I tried to dismiss it, but I had seen what happens to those who can't dream. My one true friend among the Iron Tribe, Tasend, was also one of those few immune to the Plague's strange effects, and he stood by me through the days. Somehow, he was able to tolerate my increasing bouts of violence and see past it to the Agori I once was. It's much too late for even my best friend to do anything, but that wouldn't stop Tasend from trying. One day, he sat down next to me, and after we sat for a moment in silence, he suddenly turned to see my blank face, put his hands on my shoulders, and sternly said "Look, I know this is hard for both of us, but you've got to hang on." He seemed near tears, and I started to shed a few myself at his outburst. "I know there isn't anything I could do, but I've been thinking, maybe someone else can do something. I'm going to go for help." If there was anything to jolt me out of my stupor, it was that statement. I knew what happened to those who tried to go into the outside world. The other tribes completely ignored our shipments of iron and had rebuffed our leader's attempts at negotiations. If he went out into that cold, unfeeling world, he would die. "I can't let you," I managed to stammer. "It's all I can do. I'm not going to hide like Sahmad and the others and hope this goes away. Maybe I can talk some sense into the other Agori..." "Listen to yourself, Tasend! You know what's going to happen!" I screamed at him, and he flinched. At the sight, I tried to push my fury down. "Tasend, there will be no talking sense into them. The other Agori are too blinded by their fear to even help us. You can't do anything; they'll just kill you." "It's better than simply watching you die!" All along I had known there was no chance of me surviving, but finally hearing it shouted from my best friend's mouth shocked me to the core. "Fine, go then," I said quietly. He had begun slipping out, but turned around for a moment to open his mouth. "Go!" I shouted, but he stood strong against my verbal onslaught. After giving me a hard, yet pitying, stare, he fled out the doorway. --<>-- The next few days were a blur. With nothing to focus on, I drifted off into unconsciousness more and more often and awoke to surroundings that seemed more wrecked than the last time I had seen them. I had no reason to continue living, with Tasend gone. Still, it seemed my body wouldn't give in until his return, so I waited. Finally, word came in the form of another Agori limping across the desert who seemed to be scarcely alive. Some of the other tribe members caught her as she collapsed from exhaustion. She only had enough breath to whisper the sad tale of Tasend's encounter with the Fire Tribe, our previous trading partners. The paranoid Agori had driven him off into the forest, and he was presumed dead. I was the second one to hear the news, and immediately, Plague or not, I jumped out of bed to find him. He can't be dead. He can't be dead... --<>-- Journal Log, Entry 13 After a long haul across the desert, we found an Iron Agori laying in the sand. His mind was far gone from the Dreaming Plague, but before I could stop her, Kinpol jumped forward to help him, and only succeeded in hearing his last word. Tasend... ----<>---- It's good to be writing again, and actually posting it. I have a short story series in the works that I'm excited for, but in the meantime, here's what I threw together for the latest FFFC, "Trial by Fire." I've been really working on making my characters more realistic, so if you think I did a good job, or if you enjoyed, it would be great if you could leave a comment. Thanks for reading!
  4. Heyo! Man, it's been awhile since I've drawn these two. I figured I'd take a new spin on Hewkii, as I was dissatisfied with how his old design looked. I think this suits better. Hope you guys like it! This is pretty much still a sketch, so it's not meant to be fully finished. Perhaps the lightened designs of the old Hewkii and Macku represent the ghosts of what their relationship once was. A close relationship between a Toa and Matoran in the bionicle universe is still a sensitive topic. Hopefully Hewkii and Macku can break that sensitivity. Being a toa does not mean you're older, but simply taller with elemental power. Despite this, you are still who you are. And Hewkii has never forgotten his feelings for Macku. Even in his current state, Macku will always see him as the Hewkii she adored. BIONICLE © LEGO Drawings © Me.
  5. Taka Nuvia

    Free

    Oh look at this, my name in Short Stories. Woot. xD This was written out of a sudden burst of inspiration, a few weeks ago. It's a very short story, but I hope you can enjoy it nonetheless. Also, thanks to Peach 00 for taking a look at this beforehand and encouraging me to post it. :3 ______________________________________________ Free Keryan hated the cold. He thought it was awful. He didn't like snow, either. It was too white, too cold. He was too white, too. But not cold. In fact, others often told him that he was a rather warm, friendly person, especially for a Ko-matoran. Travellers were often surprised by his openness and interest in the world, and most of them voluntarily told him stories about other parts of the island, what their homeplaces were like. Keryan wished he could go somewhere else, maybe feel the warm sun on his face, see waterfalls and sandy dunes, or walk through a forest. There was only one problem: he had no legs. He'd lost them in an accident, many years ago. The matoran sighed, and shifted his weight a little. A week before, a Ta-matoran, Valon, has visited him. They'd talked for a while, about various things. Valon had promised that he would see whether he could find a solution for Keryan's problem. The Ko-matoran looked out of the window of his hut, his gaze blocked by a raging snowstorm, a cold white wall, shifting, moving, threatening and yet, also beautiful to some. Keryan tilted his head. For a while he had believed that there would be a chance for him to get out of his hut, away from the cold, into a world of colour and sensation... he blinked. Had he just seen a red dot? No, he hadn't imagined it. The red dot came closer. Began to change. Got a shape. I was a matoran. It was Valon! And he was carrying something strange on his back...Keryan tugged at the rope which activated a mechanism to open the door. A gust of wind swept in, carrying snowflakes, and then Valon stumbled in. „Keryan!“, he said, huffing, „I found a solution!“ A grin spread over his face. „We'll get you out of here!“ Keryan enjoyed the sun. He thought it was wonderful. He also loved the colours of the forest surrounding him. The warm green of leaves beneath sunlight, their soft shadows, forming changing patterns on the ground.Valon had done him a great favour. With this device, which looked like a chair with wheels, he could finally explore the island, his new friend always behind him. Now he was free.
  6. Ok, this short (or long ) story needs a little explanation. I do not follow canon very closely, particularly with regards to BIONICLE anatomy. I have them about 60% biological (blood, organs, muscles, even hair) and 40% mechanical. They also have familial relationships, children and females and males in all villages. Sorry to anyone who doesn't like it that way, but I think it makes it more fun. This story is rated PG, because of mild romance between Kongu and Sashaya. Chroniclers' Spirit: Takua and Hahli The young girl picked one last cowrie shell out of the white sand, placed it in her pack, and headed for the surface of the sea. She climbed onto a floating platform formed by a living niipa plant, and shook herself dry. A nineteen-year-old native of Ga-koro, she wore a translucent blue Mask of Water Breathing over her face, and plain, undyed clothes under her armor. Her golden-brown hair was neatly braided and her eyes looked by turns green or blue, or a mix of both. “Hahli!” a sweet, clear voice called. “Oh, Haaaaaahliiii!” The teenager smiled to herself, recognizing her cousin’s voice. Then, she heard another familiar voice and her smile vanished. Kongu had come, too. Suppressing a sigh, she reluctantly walked towards the sound. “There you are!” Sashaya, her cousin, cried. Her face was shining with happiness, a look that all but broke Hahli’s heart. “We quicksped to bring you some fresh fruit, now that Kal darktime is pastgone.” Kongu added, holding an enormous basket loaded with the produce of Le-koro, “And Sashaya has some talenews for you, and mother.” “What news?” Hahli asked, understanding only the general idea of Kongu’s treespeak. Sashaya smiled, a little shyly. “I’d like to tell you and mom at the same time. Where is she?” “In the hut, working, I think.” Hahli indicated the family home. “Then quickspeed!” Kongu laughed. “It’s such happygood, I can’t patientwait much longer!” The village flaxmaker, Amaya, appeared at the door of her hut, hearing her daughter’s voice. “Sashaya?” “Hi, mom.” The pretty young woman hurried over to give her parent a hug. “And Kongu, welcome back.” Amaya added, looking past Sashaya to her son-in-law. “It’s been a while.” “Well, with the Kal-bugs on the looserun, I wanted to safekeep my lovely bride.” Kongu explained, giving Amaya a hug as well. “As well you should.” the older woman smiled. “Oh, mom, I have to tell you,” Sashaya burst in impatiently. “I’m going to have a baby!” Tears started to Amaya’s eyes. “I guess my little baby isn’t so little anymore. I’m so happy for you, sweetie.” “That’s great, Sashaya.” Hahli added, genuine joy in her face. “Isn’t it?” Kongu nodded. “I’m gonna be the happyproudest dad on the whole island.” Amaya wiped her happy tears away. “Well, come inside, and we’ll talk about it, and have some tea. Hahli, will you get some oysters, please?” “Sure, Aunt Amaya.” She gave her cousin a quick, gentle hug, then ran off, determined that Sashaya would have everything she wanted while she was here. * * * Hahli sat on the edge of a platform, dangling her legs in the sea. It was eight... no, nine months, since her cousin had married Kongu, the Captain of the Le-koro Gukko Force. Nine long months. They had met when Kongu had been delivering messages for the Turaga during the Siege of the Tren Krom Pass, and Sashaya instantly fell head-over-heels in love. Hahli, however, had remained shy and silent, disliking Kongu’s noisy, boisterous, though good-natured manners. In less than three months, the two were happily married, just a few short weeks after the Toa’s arrival. When Sashaya moved to Le-koro with her husband, visits had been few and far between, since the Bohrok swarms and the Bohrok-Kal had threatened the island soon after Makuta’s death. But the Toa had just defeated the Kal, and peace had at last come to stay on an island that had been at war for far too long. A single tear trickled down Hahli’s cheek. The pain of Sashaya leaving her had not healed. He had so many girls he could’ve picked, she thought unhappily, but I only had Sashaya. It’s not fair. “It’s hard for you, isn’t it, sweetheart?” Amaya asked gently, sitting down next to her niece. “Very.” Hahli glanced at her aunt. “Why did this have to happen? Why couldn’t Sashaya and I stayed with you forever? Or why couldn’t we have been boys?” “Well, I for one prefer that you are you, not a boy.” the Komau-clad woman smiled. “and for another, Sashaya is happy as Kongu’s wife. Do you really not want her to have that? If you could, would you have kept her here?” Hahli sighed. “No.” “Your turn may come too, little ruki fish.” Amaya said after a moment. “When you find that you are willing to leave everything behind to be with someone. Sashaya knew her moment, and now she’s going to have her own family. Just like the tides, you can only stay on the beach for so long. Someday, you have to go out into the open sea.” “But what if my turn doesn’t come?” Hahli protested, kicking at the water. “Will I just have to be lonely and hurt forever?” Amaya frowned, concerned. “No. First of all, you’ve been like a second daughter to me since you were little. I’ll always be here for you, as long as I live. And second, you choose whether or not Sashaya's happiness makes you feel hurt. It can only hurt you as long as you, in your secret heart, say to yourself, ‘I won’t forgive her for leaving me’.” Hahli started. “I’m not mad at her! I’m mad at Kongu!” “Are you? Really?” Amaya answered, standing up. “I’ll see you at suppertime.” Hahli angrily splashed the water with her feet. I’m not mad at Sashaya. I’m can’t be. * * * Over the next few days, Hahli turned the conversation over in her mind. At last, she had to admit, it was Sashaya she was angry with. Angry for leaving her alone... angry for finding a new best friend so quickly... and angry for simply being happy, while she was sad. And that’s not fair of me, Hahli told herself. Why should I be upset, if I really care about her? If I want what’s best for her, not for me, I should be happy she and Kongu ever found each other. On the island of Mata-Nui, marriages between villages were rare, because of the dangers of traveling. Or at least, they had been rare, until the Toa had come. There were six of them - Tahu, Lewa, Gali, Onua, Pohatu, and Kopaka. The Turaga said that they had been sent by the Great Spirit Mata Nui himself, for whom the island was named. They had arrived with no knowledge of the past, or each other; only their names, and questions. Ga-koro’s protector, Gali, was the only female Toa, and the matoran of her village had loved her from the start. She was kind and gentle, ready to help with even their smallest problems. She made a point of learning her people’s names and families, which made her seem not so much a great heroine as a friend. One of the few Toa who pitied even Makuta’s slaves, she still did not hesitate to risk her life to stop them. Makuta. Hahli thought, shuddering. If the Toa hadn’t come, we might all be his slaves now. The Great Spirit’s own brother, Makuta was as evil as Mata Nui was good. When Mata Nui had guided the matoran to the island and given it to them for their home, Makuta’s jealousy finally came to light. He betrayed his brother, throwing him into a deep slumber from which only the Toa could awaken him. He had then plagued the island with his Rahi - wild creatures under his control, because of the infected masks they wore. For nearly a thousand years, they had attacked the villages and killed matoran, keeping communication between villages risky and travel downright deadly. But that dark time was over; the Toa had defeated him. Killed him, really; who could live, after being blasted into a thousand fragments? And now, we get to celebrate another victory, Hahli smiled. And I’ll finally get to see the other Toa, and talk to Sashaya's friends from Le-koro. And maybe the Chronicler will tell some of the stories of the Kal. “Hahli! Snap out of it!” a young man laughed. She shook herself and turned to her friend. “Sorry, Pelagia. I was just... remembering.” “Well, can you remember while we load the boats?” he grinned. “This stuff won’t get to Kini-Nui on it’s own, ya know!” “Right.” she smiled, tossing another sack into the hold. In honor of the Toa’s latest deeds, the Turaga had declared a celebration would be held at Kini-Nui, the great memorial to Mata-Nui in the very center of the island. All the villages would come for the two days of games, food and parties. The Ga-matoran planned to sail from their floating village in the Naho Bay, up the Kaligi River to the lush valley of Kini-Nui. All the matoran were busily packing a few last supplies into the boats, and she was supposed to be helping, not reminiscing. As soon as the last bags were thrown onboard, the Ga-matoran all leaped easily into their canoes. The long boats made of Wakiki palm wood had tall masts in the center, covered by flaxen sails, but the wind would not serve their course today, so all those who could took an oar. “Pull out!” came the command from the helmsman in the back of the canoe. Accordingly, the rows of canoes pulled away from the docks and began sweeping into the open water. While the wind might not be suitable for the larger craft, it worked well for Hahli and a few other young matoran who were on sailboards - small, light wooden surfboards with swingable sails attached - darting in and out of the bigger boats, and riding the waves. In the lead boat, Toa Gali sat talking to Turaga Nokama, the leader of Ga-koro. Without warning, the Toa used her Mask of Levitation to rise up out of the boat, then dove into the water, easily keeping pace with the canoes, and returning a few splashes from her more daring villagers. Using her elemental powers, she summoned a current to help the rowers. Hahli glanced around. Everyone was laughing and happy, talking and singing. Peace, at long last, reigned in her home. * * * She tied her sailboard down and stretched her arms. Four straight hours of sailing was something she enjoyed with her whole heart. But the sight before her was more than enough to make her glad that it was over. In front of the huge stone temple was a large clearing, covered in grass as soft as the finest feathers. A stream ran off the nearby slopes of Mount Ihu, flowing through the temple, and down through the field before joining the river on its journey to the sea. Huge trees surrounded the meadow, giving shade and fruit. Several dozen tents were already set up on the other side of the field; from the pale blue snowflakes embroidered on the white cloth, Hahli knew them to belong to the Ko-matoran, the people of ice. The Ga-matoran moored their boats and scrambled up the bank of the river, which was somewhat steep. Some passed bundles of food and supplies to those on shore, and others began setting up their own camp. A few of the Ko-matoran came over, and after brief greetings, began helping the blue-armored matoran of Ga-koro unpack. As they began setting up bamboo poles for tents and huts, the sound of briskly marching feet was heard from the south. A spurt of flames above the trees confirmed that the Ta-matoran had arrived, and Toa Tahu was with them. Hahli glanced over at the line of red, yellow and fire-orange villagers emerging from the trees. Even at this distance, she easily spotted the blue-masked Chronicler walking in the front. Takua never seemed to quite fit into any of the six villages. He was always accepted, yes, even welcomed, but somehow always different. His blue mask was like the Ga-matoran, but his red body, arm and leg armor matched the fire village. Mentally, he took parts from all six of the elements: he was playful and impulsive, like the Le-matoran; the same wistful curiosity as the water-villagers; direct and friendly, like the Po-matoran; a truth-seeker, like the Onu-matoran; fearless as any Ta-matoran, and thoughtful, like the people of ice. Of course, he also carried some of the faults of the villagers, too: he was somewhat lazy and talkative, a little too blunt sometimes, and perhaps too curious for his own good. But he was most noted for his ability to tell stories. Even the most stoic of the Ko-matoran seemed bewitched by his vivid tales, and he never tired of telling them. Even now, he was probably telling a story, as the Ta-matoran all set up their tents in picture-perfect rows, under the supervision of Jala, the Right Hand of Turaga Vakama, and Captain of the Ta-koro Guard. The Le-matoran arrived later in the morning, flying in on their huge gukko birds and playfully pelting each other and the camp below with over-ripe fruit. The Onu-matoran came marching out of their tunnels near midday, humming a low song of the mines. Just in time for the last meal of the day, Pohatu, Toa Nuva of Stone, sped into the clearing, carrying two Po-matoran on his shoulders. The rest of the Po-koro caravan trotted behind him on maha; the goat-like animals bleated loudly and seemed to think that the party was all in their honor. Hahli and Sashaya, who had never been apart since the Le-matoran had landed, finished cooking the food they would share with everyone, and went to try some of the dishes from the other villages. Some seemed quite odd, and others, downright disgusting. “Yuck!” Hahli whispered, spitting a mushroom into the safety of a bush. “Tastes a a sea sponge rolled in dirt.” “Here, try this. No way mangoes taste like dirty sponges.” Sashaya laughed, placing one on her cousin’s wooden plate. “And don’t try any of the Ta-matoran food. I found out the hard way they like things really spicy.” “This isn’t bad.” Hahli commented, indicating a juicy piece of meat on her plate. “What is it?” “I think it’s volo deer.” She tried a tiny bite and made a face. “Ugh; definitely volo.” “You don’t like it?” a merry voice asked from behind them. Both girls jumped in surprise and turned to see Kongu and Takua, grins on their faces. “I don’t like to think about cute deer getting killed.” Sashaya replied, a little loftily. “I’ll gladly eat your share for you.” Takua laughed. “So you must be--” “My wife, Sashaya. My sister, Hahli.” Kongu finished. “Sashaya, at longlast, you get to seemeet my brotherfriend, Takua.” The Ta-matoran bowed playfully. “You see, Takua was supposed to be childborn a Le-matoran, but he got swapmixed with someone else. Stopended up in Ta-koro, poor guy.” Kongu joked. He handed his wife an orange, knowing it to be her favorite fruit. She rewarded him with a smile that would have melted a takea shark’s heart, if such a thing were possible. Hahli felt her heart sink again. No, no, she told herself. I promised I would learn to be happy for her. To mask her feelings, she forced herself to do something entirely out of character: she turned to Takua and began a conversation. “I heard your story about the trap the Toa made for the Tahnok-Kal. It was really great.” Takua smiled. “Thanks, but I can’t really take any credit for it. First of all, the Toa did all the work, and second, I don’t write the stories; they write themselves.” “Huh?” Hahli frowned. “Well, I mean...” he bit his lip, thinking. “I’ve tried explaining it to other people, but they don’t get it. Do you understand what I mean when I say that words aren’t just words? People don’t always have to talk for words to be there; they just are... they exist, and always will.” She looked down shyly. “I kinda get it.” He shook his head impatiently. “Words, written and spoken, are what set matoran apart from rahi. They communicate in grunts and growls and squeaks, and they only have instinct. But we have emotion and logic, and the words to express them. But we didn’t create words; we were given them by Mata Nui. They exist outside of us. Get it?” Hahli considered. “Yeah; it's like they have a life of their own?” "Exactly." Takua smiled. “Words are a tool and a weapon, just as much as swords and spears are. But words cut more deeply, and heal better than anything else can. They’re metaphysical.” He saw the confusion on her face and added, “They’re not something you can touch, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” “Yes.” Her Kaukau now wore a smile, too. “I think I get it. But it sounds kind of silly when I say it.” He laughed. “Just because no one else understands it? That doesn't make it silly; it’s just what is. Catch my drift?” “I think I do.” She cocked her head to one side thoughtfully. “Then maybe you’re a storyteller, too.” he commented, glancing around at all the assembled matoran. Some had already finished eating and were back to playing games and sports. Several couples had begun a lively dance, to the tune of a band of matoran from all six villages. “Hey, do you like dancing?” he asked suddenly. Taken by surprise, she answered honestly. “Yeah.” “Then come on.” He took her hand and led her into the cleared lawn. “I asked Nixie to save one for me, but she’s so tired from all the nights she’s been stargazing recently, she’s just going to go to sleep early. Pity; she’ll miss the fireworks.” A moment later, to her own astonishment, Takua pulled her into the line of dancers. As an added surprise, she remembered the lessons her aunt had given her and managed to perform the right steps. As they whirled around with the other matoran, she gathered her courage and spoke. “So, you like Nixie?” Takua’s blue mask flushed red. “Um, well, it’s kinda... ok, yeah, I like her. Just don’t tell Kongu. I’ll never live it down.” Hahli laughed. “She’s really nice. I wish you luck.” “Thanks.” He was silent for a moment. “You know, if I told most of the girls in Ta-koro I liked someone else while I was dancing with them, they wouldn’t take it so well. How come you do?” She frowned. “Why would I be upset? I like Nixie, and you’re a hero. I think you’d be great together.” He laughed. “Ok, we’re going to be pals.” Hahli focused her energies on the dance, feeling the movements and trying to remember all the steps. It’s like a river, she remembered her aunt saying. There are strong currents and soft eddies, but they always keep flowing towards the same place. A dance is just another stream to be traveled. Keeping that in mind, she found she was actually having fun. Takua was such an easy, friendly person, that it seemed impossible to be shy around him. When the dance ended, she was breathless, but happy. “Thanks, Chronicler. That was fun.” He grinned. “Hey, if we’re going to be friends, you have to call me Takua. And thanks for being so nice while stepping on my feet.”Before she could even blush, a horn sounded, signaling the beginning of a kohlii game somewhere in the field. As the call ceased, a voice could be heard yelling, “Taaaaaakuuuuuaaaa!” “Oops.” The Ta-matoran smacked his forehead. “I was supposed to play in one of the matches!” “The field isn’t far; maybe you can still make it.” she suggested. “I’d better, or Jala will throw me into the Mangai.” he groaned. “Come on!” They ran across the green swath to the stone kohlii field Toa Pohatu had made. Since these games were just for fun, and not the serious tournament, amateurs and veterans alike teamed up and competed. Although there was still some betting done, even on these small games, the atmosphere was much less intense than the Great Games, which were played every six years. At least, every six until the last seventy years, Hahli thought. When the rahi attacks became really intense, the tournaments were canceled. This is the first year they’ll be played since before I was born. While the games may not have been serious, the Ta-matoran standing at the south entrance with his arms crossed certainly was. “We’re up next. I figured you’d be late, so I gave you a few minutes to get here.” Takua rolled his eyes. “Thanks for yelling my name all over the camp, like I’m a lost maha.” The other Ta-matoran frowned. “You act like one, so it’s appropriate.” He noticed Hahli and nodded to her politely. “I don’t think we’ve met.” Hahli flushed and hoped desperately her mask wouldn’t show it. She had instantly recognized him as the great Captain Jala himself, the hero of countless battles all across the island. Her mouth felt dry and her tongue wouldn’t obey her brain. She managed a slight curtsy. “Hahli, meet my bossy friend, Jala.” Takua grinned. “Jala, my non-bossy-actually-nice friend, Hahli.” Jala tapped his fingers impatiently. “Nice to meet you, Miss Hahli. Takua, let’s go; we have to be ready when the match starts.” “You act like it’s a Naming Day ceremony.” Takua grumbled. “Hahli, you wanna wait in the stands until after the game? Me and a couple friends are gonna climb to the top of the temple to watch the fireworks. Kongu said he and Sashaya were coming, too.” She smiled. “I’d like that. Thanks.” Jala was practically dragging the Chronicler away, but he managed to tap his fist against hers in the Toa’s gesture of unity and comradeship. I wonder how he does that, she thought. It's almost like Takua... Understands me. * * * Another rocket flew into the air, giving off a high scream as it burst into a million stars, which floated gently back to the ground. Hahli felt her muscles tense as the bang went off and the sparkles rained over the field. “It’s so beautiful.” Sashaya murmured, sitting in between her cousin and her husband. “I’ve never seen fireworks before.” “That makes two of us.” Kongu nodded. “The firespitters must be too hardworking to craftmake them often.” “Yeah.” Takua laughed, giving Kongu a friendly punch in the arm. “I was surprised they even knew how to make something just for fun.” “Oh, grow up, will you?” Jaller shook his head. Takua grinned. “So not happening, dude.” The Captain rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the new wave of rockets that were rising through the air. “I wish I knew how they make them.” Hahli whispered to Sashaya. “Then I’d make them for all our birthdays.” The young woman laughed. “I’ll be happy if you just bring me some fresh oysters for my birthday. All the fruit and plants the Le-matoran eat are delicious, but once in a while, I just want fish again.” “You’re not happy in Le-koro?” Kongu asked, faking sorrow. Sashaya only laughed again and kissed him. “You know better.” Takua whistled sharply. “Too much romance on the field! One-point penalty!” Hahli laughed. Takua was right - somehow, they were already friends.
  7. Seriously? I was expecting a thread like this to exist already. Well, looks like I beat everyone to it. So, I'm sure there are several people here who like the show, me included. So this will be the place to discuss it. Favourite episodes, characters, stuff like that. And uhh... I guess that's it. Begin discussion. As for me, my favourite episodes so far are the first two episodes of Season 2... my favourite Character is Luna.
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