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  1. In the time before time, long before the fall of the Mask Makers and the coming of the Toa, the mythical island of Okoto was beset by a foe the island would rue for millennia. Fate – or destiny – would have it that the events of a distant past would shape an uncertain future. Like so many other great legends, this one begins on a beach. - Of Druids and Shadow Poaruu was spending his afternoon with the one task he found no enjoyment in – fishing. As a cook, it was a necessary part of his duty to the village, but one he despised nonetheless. “How could anyone find this to be relaxing?” – He thought. He’s hardly collected enough fish for the evening’s feast, which was to mark the Rite of Initiation for the new elder. Nothing as fancy as the Rite of Empowerment of a new Protector for the whole region, but a marked day still. Poaruu was snapped out of his worries about running out of time by a sight he hasn’t seen in months. A gargantuan body burst from the water, far out at sea. He recognized it instantly: Akida, primal aspect of Water. She often swam around the whole island, popping up off the shores of each region. However today, instead of a majestic flip, the body of the great whale slapped back into the water unnaturally. Then he heard it – cries of agony. Wading into the water as far as he dared, he noted something strange about the creature, but couldn’t pin it down. The waves were carrying her ashore. His mind raced. “We need the Druid!” – He thought and turned to run into the village. By the time he got back, the aspect was already washed up. Now, he could see what seemed so peculiar from afar, and up close, it was terrifying. Jagged weapons, the likes of which he has never seen, jutted from the body of the mighty beast. The rustle of leaves – there were no trees in the region of Stone – indicated help has arrived. For a moment, seemingly out of nowhere, a handful of plants sprouted nearby and a tall figure arose. He towered far above Poaruu, clad in brown robes. Strong legs carried the barked body licked with a touch of green here and there. But the most notable feature of the newcomer were his antlers, glorious and intimidating. “Druid Umarak, you are here!” – He called out. The druid rushed to Akida, and began stroking her face. “Quickly, remove those foul things!” – He commanded Poaruu, pointing at the foreign weapons. Akida was heaving, but other noises escaped her mouth as well. After Poaruu, with much difficulty, took out the pair of what now turned out to be spears, Umarak moved to the wounds and held out his hands. His palms began to glow green, and the wounds began to seal right before Poaruu’s eyes. Soon, Akida was breathing easier. “Who could have done this?” – The cook asked, but the druid hushed him. Seemingly Umarak was listening to Akida. “Of course, the Druid is the only one who understands the great Aspects”. Finally, Umarak turned to Poaruu with much concern in his eyes. “I must meet the protectors at once.” – He said. “What is wrong?” – The cook asked. Umarak’s response filled him with a new kind of fear – the fear of the uncertain. “Those who did this came from beyond the sea.” Soon, the Druid had gathered the protectors and brought them to Poaruu’s village. With the help of his magics, Umarak could bring the leaders of Okotoan society with him across great distances with great haste, and all were assembled by eve. “Are you sure of what the aspect said to you?” – Taito, surprisingly hot-headed for one hailing from the region of Ice, demanded of him at the onset of the council. “You are not one to question my words, nor that of the Aspect.” – His response was stern. “I have healed her wounds by then, pain could not have compelled her.” The protectors were uneasy, faced with an issue no literature nor legend has prepared them for. “How is this even possible? How could something come from beyond the sea?” – The protector of Fire pleaded. “Never have we sailed beyond eyesight of Okoto. It may be so that other islands exist as well.” – The protector of Water added. “Druid, what did Akida tell you of these attackers?” – Ihan, protector of the Jungle turned to Umarak. “Only things that could trouble us further. They sail upon ships of metal, rougher and harder than with what the Mask Makers work. They are as tall as I. Beyond this, she merely repeated a single word I do not recognize: Kulta.” – He said. “Kulta? A name perhaps?” – Ihan asked back. “If so, it will go down in history as a hated one. The meeting was interrupted by the sound of a guard’s horn, after which a winded villager burst into the hut. “Protectors! Druid! Ships are approaching, hundreds! They are not of any region we know!” – He spat between gasps. Poaruu was so preoccupied with the events earlier that day that he could barely focus on his cooking. Umarak’s words haunted him, and he couldn’t but shake the curiosity as to what went on behind the closed doors of the emergency council. “I should be in there. I saw her!” – He thought, annoyed. Commotion outside tore him from his thoughts. As he stepped outside, he was almost knocked over by a trio of guards rushing towards the shore. “It can’t be Skull Spiders, the annual culling was not a fortnight ago… and they’re running to the shore!” – He started after them. Nearing the beach, he opted to scale one of the village walls for a better vantage point, and the vista that played out before him was unlike anything he ever saw. Countless ships were moments away from making landfall, and all the guards were lined up on the beach. The Druid and the Protectors were among them. Soon, the first ship – large, sporting black sails and an oversized ram on its stem. Off the railings jumped a large, albeit spindly figure. Its hardened leathery skin was covered by rough armor, its face obscured by a mask most frightening, crowned with two horns jutting forward. He walked towards the assembled guards, followed by many similar beings – among them devilish creatures led on chains, not unlike the scorpions of Poaruu’s home region. Umarak started ahead to meet the leader of the invaders head on. “Who are you to encroach upon our peaceful lands, to hurt one of our revered aspects?” – He shouted. The being walked uncomfortably close to the Druid, staring him in the eye. “Kulta.” – He said, as if to mock Umarak. “And what is it you are here for?” – The druid did not flinch. “Conquest.” Next, everything happened too fast. Before Poaruu knew what happened, the horde of invaders charged the guards. Umarak grappled with Kulta before disappearing in a puff of leaves and spiriting away the gathered protectors as well. The attackers tore through the guards within moments, and smoke had already filled the night sky. He rushed to street level, around him screams and shouting. He tried running in the opposite direction, but the invaders were already spread out in the village. The stench of death had begun to spread, and turning a corner Poaruu was met with a sight so gruesome as to prompt him to turn around. Against his better judgement, instinct drove him to the shore where he found Akida not half a day ago. Only the imprint of the glorious being was left in the sand. He waded into the waves once more, not knowing what to do, when a head popped up above the surface nearby. It was smaller – about half the size of what it was before – but could not be mistaken: Akida was here. She emitted a series of chirping sounds and sped towards Poaruu. Passing him and turning back, she swam up right next to him and offered a flipper. He understood. Grabbing it, he glanced back at his village one last time, and she began to swim. --- “I, Umarak, Druid of Okoto, am about to do something I swore to forever avoid. Five years ago, the warlord Kulta and his horde of Titans invaded the region of Stone. Since then, they have managed to poison our revered Aspects, causing them to weaken to a state my powers cannot heal. Alone, they are no longer powerful. In my possession is an ancient Mask of Power that I had hoped to keep locked away for eternity, but it seems that in our darkest hour, sin is our only salvation.”– The Final Testament of the Druid Poaruu was keeping watch on the battlements of the City of the Mask Makers. The city was the last bastion of Okotoan resistance save for a few small pockets scattered in the remote regions of the island. He had managed to survive five years of bloodshed. It was five years ago that he cooked his last true meal, and ever since, he was forced to fight. All of the protectors have perished with no clear line of succession. The only battles which do not end in defeat are those where the Druid is present, however the Titans attack on many fronts. Umarak has organised the few survivors into a half-decent army, but they are far outmatched and outnumbered by the trained murderers they face. Even after all this time, they learned very little of them – they know now that their world, a globe, is home to several islands. Kulta and his horde have been traveling from island to island, fighting the locals each time. His people have fashioned armor from the bones of their victims as a fear tactic, even using the corpses of Skull Spiders as masks. Umarak had recently returned to the City, warning the defenders that Kulta was preparing for a final assault to complete his “glorious victory”. “There has been enough killing.” – He said. “I will permit this no longer.” The defenders were on edge ever since, not understanding. “If he could put an end to this, why hasn’t he before?” – Many asked. Ever since, he had cradled an odd object, obscured by cloth. Poaruu sensed a slight shake. It began to grow stronger and rhythmic. “They’re here.” – He thought with dread. From between the ridges of the mountains high flowed, like a sick river, the horde. Their marching shook the earth, chanting smuggled fear into hearts thought to be steeled. They were near the walls when Umarak opened the Gate of the Anvil and strode out alone. “If you come to offer surrender, you waste your breath, Druid.” – Kulta spat the last word mockingly. “We come only for death.” – He finished. “If it is death that you invoke, death is what you shall receive!” – Umarak shouted. He removed the cloth and held high in the air a Mask of Power, much unlike the Mask of Healing he wore now. It was uniform black, seemingly swallowing all light, and yet jagged with sinister features. “The Mask of Death. The forbidden mask.” – He thought. “I wish I needn’t bear this burden.” – He removed his own and replaced it with the black mask. He immediately felt weak and nauseated, his muscles gave way and he collapsed. Kulta began to laugh a terrifying laugh, and his soldiers joined in. But soon the cackle had gone on too long, and the other Titans fell silent in confusion. Kulta continued his hysterical cacophony, then staggered. His laugh faltered, and almost immediately was replaced by a shrill scream. Before the eyes of Poaruu and the other defenders, their most hated enemy fell to his knees as his flesh burned away seemingly on its own. Soon, the confused Titans followed suit, their screams tearing up the sky itself as they were seared away where they stood. Nought but their bones remained moments later, collapsed in distorted positions. Umarak didn’t rise for many minutes. His body was smoking slightly, and his armor hissed as rain began to fall upon it. He rose to a seated position and remained like that even longer. When he opened his eyes, he was startled even though he knew the price of using the mask. Red spike sprouted from his arms, the his bark-like skin charred to black, green flesh turned sickly. He looked down into the puddle that had accumulated before him – the mask had cracked from the strain of being used on so many opponents. Dark power leaked from its surface, clouding the vision of the Druid – former Druid. “Even if the vows are broken and the mask used, it may only happen once. After death is unleashed, there remains only… shadow.” – He recited the teachings. Soon, the behavioral changes will manifest, then he will be drawn to the dark corners of the world. The gates of the city were opened, and the defenders slowly walked out. Among them was the elder they had all sworn to protect – the old Mask Maker. Umarak approached the procession in spite of the now fearful looks he received. “What have you done, Druid?” – The Mask Maker’s voice was also tainted by fear. “I know the weight of my actions and accept them. I will retreat into exile. The people of Okoto must persevere without a Druid.” – He said. “I am old, Umarak – what will we do come another crisis? The line of the Protectors has been broken, I am near the dusk of my life and even you leave us now?” – He pleaded. “Any who were strong enough to survive this war are worthy of the title of protector. As for your successor… look to the region of Ice. I discovered the heir of the Anvil long ago, he is safe. Ekimu is his name, you must search for him and bring him to the city.” – Umarak replied. “What of the aspects?” – The elder persisted. “They are diminished and in hiding until… until the coming of the six.” – The Druid hushed his voice. The Mask Maker had no more questions, so Umarak looked at the gathered Okotoans one last time, then left. Poaruu was among those who saw him disappear into the woods. “Where is he going?” – He asked aloud. “Into shadow…” – The Mask Maker replied solemnly. --- Strong claws gripped the trunk of the tree surely. An armored arm kept the body upright, half-hanging while the other shielded eyes from the hated glare of the sun. He dropped to the ground, and headed to the river. Passing by a tree with marks left by smaller claws, he walked down to the stream. The sand had been disturbed recently. Something drank here. “Ah, yes…” A nibbled fruit lay nearby. He strode over, picked it up and lifted it to his face. The hunter had caught a scent.
  2. Well, almost immediately after I bought Kopaka and the Protector of Earth at the start of the year, I began making Mocs of them. I didn't have too many parts, so they were fairly simple. Later on in march when I got Gali and Tahu, an idea struck me. What if I made Mocs of Gen 1 characters? I made a large Visorak with a spinner, Gen 1 Toa besides the Mata/Nuva, a failed attempt at a Bohrok and eventually a Rahkshi. Unfortunately, all of my photos were saved on my school computer which was wiped at the end of the year. However, I now have nearly all of the Bionicle 2015 sets, expect for a two of the protectors, the four skull villains and Lewa. With the parts, I rebuilt Rahkshi better than before, and with my expanded parts selection, I was able to make four Rahkshi. I hope you enjoy the bios and Mocs. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On our island of Okoto, strange creatures displaying higher intelligence and abilities than most wild beast have been spotted recently. I have devoted my time to studying them since their arrival. They are reptilian in appearance, with spikes on their backs and an armor-like shell. They appear to have some powers, but not on the same level of our heroic Toa. These beasts call themselves "Rahkshi" and appear peaceful, but their presence combined with their power seems to suggest otherwise. Hailing from a faraway island, the Rahskhi are a species hundreds of millennia old. Through time, they have evolved and changed and developed into a species far different from their original form. I managed to befriend one of them, a large red and black male who goes by the name of Xurahk. He is a Rahkshi scholar and has gladly shared his repertoire of history and information with me. It is only fair that I share this information with the readers of this report, as it will be a boost to your appreciation of the subject. Long ago, the Rahkshi were created by a mysterious brotherhood as soldiers and guards. Each Rahkshi had a special power, such as insect control, quick healing or disintegration. The Rahkshi were adept at using these powers in conjunction with the strength and size to achieve whatever goal the brotherhood bestowed upon them. One member of the brotherhood eventually took control forcefully and brought darkness to their whole universe. He went about killing the group's dissenters, but a small band of them used an artifact to travel to our world. They began a new life with their Rahkshi, but eventually died off leaving the Rahkshi in control of the island they had landed on. The Rahkshi began to change physically and mentally soon afterward, or so the story goes. Their strange anatomy became more organic and more alive. They became capable of reproduction, and started a civilization of their own. As time went on, some things were lost to them. Their powers were weakened, and the large build that had been so common was now a rarity. But in spite of these losses, they gained something much better in return- a mind capable of logic and reason like our own. They progressed forward making advances we Okotans have yet to dream of. At the peak of Okotan civilization, our ancestors lived in harmony and made many wonders we have yet to replicate. As we all know, Makuta betrayed Ekimu and the island fell into chaos. The Rahkshi had no such incident. They continued to progress but began to wonder what lay beyond the ocean surrounding their home. Only recently did any Rahkshi have the bravery to attempt to cross it, and they discovered our homeland during their adventures. Most of the islanders are very suspicious of them, but they agreed to let the Rahkshi be here as long as they gave us knowledge and technology. With the Toa on their suicide mission to awaken Ekimu, we feared that we might be in need of assistance once more. I have met four Rahkshi personally so far. In the few weeks they have been here, I have learned so many new things. Laws of motion, why things fall down, the weather and more have all been revealed to me. This newfound knowledge is priceless, but I hope that by introducing these four to you I can help build our relations for a prosperous future. 1. Lu'wrahk Lu'whrak is a female Rahkshi of Disintegration. She is fairly friendly but fierce nonetheless. Lu'whrak lives life without worry, knowing that if she gets herself in danger she can easily find her way out. An honorable fighter in combat and a kind friend in peace, she is one of the more amiable Rahkshi on the island. Pose Pose 2 Back Standing 2. Hapurahk Hapurahk has gotten the short end of the stick his whole life. He was born with a misshapen back and with a missing eye. Thanks to the amazing technology of their homeland, he was given a mechanical eye but his back still retained its strange shape. His colors- white and gold- corresponded to no known Rahkshi power, but he eventually found that he had the power of Weather Control. Sadly, he has less control over his power than one of the level 1 Rahkshi of ancient times. Hapurahk has an indomitable will and a desire to make things better for himself or others through any means. He is an extremely skilled warrior with his swords and has yet to lose a match. Winning matches give him hope that maybe someday he will turn his life around for good. He hopes to do just that on Okoto. Pose Side Back Standing 3. Zohrahk Even among the Rahkshi of our time, who are considered small compared to their past forms, Zohrahk is very short. She is a little bit taller than the Protectors, and much more fearsome. Her spines are small and curved, but what makes here truly unique are the horn-like protrusions on her head. She refuses to divulge whether they are natural or just something she wears for intimidation. A master of stealth, she is the most aggressive of the four Rahkshi I have met. She is an expert at dealing extreme amounts of attacks in a short period of time. Her double-ended staff is similar to the ones used by the old Rahkshi. I have seen her use the staff to vault into the air and unleash rapid attacks on her opponents. Most of the other Rahkshi dislike her for her aggressiveness, but she can be friendly at times. Pose Side Back Standing 4. Xurahk The final Rahkshi I list here, Xurahk appears imposing at first, but he is actually a renowned and kindly scholar. His size is rare among modern Rahkshi, and is comparable to that of the old ones. He carries a large axe and shield for defense, but does not engage in combat. He only fights if he needs to and spends most of his time reading, learning and discovering. Xurahk is the most friendly to me, and I consider him a friend. He has taught me much of the science and history of his species, and I have done the same in return. Our meeting has been peaceful and beneficial to all, as it usually is when two scholars meet. Pose Back Standing I hope this guide been informative and helpful to all. May this knowledge be passed down for generations to come. Finally, I present you with a picture that should have been much easier to take- I gathered all four of these Rahkshi together and used their "camera" to "photograph" them. Yes, this is the same device I used to "photograph" their individual pictures. Thank you very much for reading this guide, and leave comments and criticism for my improvement as a scholar. Together!
  3. A Tale from the Halkenverse <STORY TOPIC> Greetings there, fellow members of BZP! You may know me from the RPG Front as "That guy who makes his characters pull off stupid stunts that may get them killed", but I'm fairly certain you know me better as Dr. Medic. Now, This here Epic in particular is the backstory to Fission, one of my Bionifight Infinite characters. This is a story about how he became the Toa of Nuclear power he is today. Updates will come periodically, or occasionally, depending on how motivated I feel on certain days. So anyway, the first chapter is a kind of "Cold opening", one that doesn't explicitly tell us about the characters or intentions, but sets the tone for the story, and establishes a setting. Much more will be revealed in the next part, where things get interesting... Comments, Criticism, Compliments, etc. are welcome! This story is purely non-canon. Any resemblance to any canon characters is purely a coincidence The Halkenverse was created by Xaeraz, expanded upon by Click, Nato, Ehksidian, and many others Bionicle Gen.1 © the LEGO company, 2001-2010
  4. Specter Knight

    Nuclear

    A Tale from the Halkenverse <REVIEW TOPIC> The constant black haze shrouding Metru Nui at night is an Ideal place for crime. As if the city wasn’t any brighter than it was during the day, the choking darkness was only briefly relieved by the dim gas lamps and headlights on passing air-bikes. Most Matoran would shut themselves in their hovels at this hour, but those who worked late had no choice but to trudge home in the dark. And even so, they did so warily, constantly tense, as all sorts of thieves and murderers were active at this hour. Mere seconds to midnight, an alarm rang out on a local jeweller’s on one of the many coastal boulevards of Ga-Metru. Someone had broken in, and was scooping up all the precious jewels on display as easily as dust on the floor. When the Patrol Vahki arrived, the thief was already gone. The Commander barked orders, telling the rest of the squadron to search the streets. As they headed off, none of them saw the thief climb upwards on the rough edges of the wall above, heading far above the dimly lit streets. This thief was a Co-Matoran, A Matoran of smoke, and like their Suburban counterparts, The Le-Matoran, they are agile, nimble, and good at climbing. Away from prying eyes, the Thief began to make its escape. And he would’ve succeeded, if it weren’t for a Toa watching silently from the shadows. As soon as the thief climbed to one of the murky rooftops, someone leapt down from nearby, landing hard on the roof behind him. Despite the near darkness, the thief could see a faint silhouette, and an orange heart-light in the midst of the dense smog. On instinct, the thief ran, but the mysterious Toa was fast approaching. For every ledge the Matoran would climb, the Toa would effortlessly leap up. This continued until the Matoran was cornered at the edge of a tenement block. Knowing he could no longer run, the thief knew it was time to defend himself. He pulled out a portable Zamor pellet launcher, much to the Toa’s surprise. Knowing the type of thief he was battling, he might’ve got it off the black market. He fired a neon green blast at the silhouette, but his opponent was ready. The shell bounced harmlessly off the golden shield the Toa had deployed, and not only that, he had also brought and unsheathed a sword, which glowed a bright orange, as if it was composed of pure flame. In the dim glow, the Toa’s features could be seen more clearly, if that were possible. His armour was varying shades of red and orange, covering a heroic, muscular build. His mask was mainly concealed by a large breathing apparatus, with pronounced eyepieces. Panicking, the Thief let off two more shots at the Toa of Fire, but to no avail, as he approached rapidly, deflecting the pellets with his shielf, before using his sword to knock the thief’s pellet launcher out of his hand and into the streets far below. Before the thief could respond, the Toa sheathed his sword and charged right into the thief in one swift movement, knocking them both off the edge of the building. As wind rushed past them, the Toa secured his grip on the Thief, and behind his breathing apparatus, his mask began to glow slightly. As soon as they hit the streets below, a sphere of energy enveloped them, softening their landing. The force exerted on them was rather intense, but at least they were still alive. The Vahki arrived on the scene relatively quickly, and found the thief right next to his bag of pilfered jewels. He was arrested on the spot, but in the commotion, nobody noticed the mysterious Toa slink away into the night. Well, almost nobody. Unknown to him, a small floating camera drone had been recording his every movement, amplified with night-vision filters. From a discreetly parked air-vehicle, two Matoran watched the footage over and over, analysing his techniques. “He’s got initiative, daring, ruthless efficiency…” one of them muttered. “Do you perhaps think-“ The other one, sitting right beside him, cut him off. “I am certain, Vorris. This is exactly the one we need…” This story is purely non-canon. Any resemblance to any canon characters is purely a coincidence The Halkenverse was created by Xaeraz, expanded upon by Click, Nato, Ehksidian, and many others Bionicle Gen.1 © the LEGO company, 2001-2010
  5. I would like to preface this story by saying it is based BEFORE Deriksha arrived in Ko-Wahi in BZPRPG. That being said, please enjoy this story and feel free to express your opinion on it in the review topic Chapter 1: Ngaru Nui "Come on, just one go!" "Fine tree swinger. This had better not be another prank." The hulk of a Toa proceeded to stand on the big branch with the smaller Toa. "Now whatchu gotta do is straight-stand on the branch and slowly walk towards the steep bit." The Toa of Earth did so and quickly began sliding down the branch at a rapid speed. "YOU NEVER TOLD ME ABOUT THIS PARRTT!!!" The Black armoured Toa slid off the end of the branch, catapulting into a big tree. "Bwahahahahaha! Good try Ikinu! Maybe next time you could try landing on your feet! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!" "Why you little-" Ikinu then attempted to grab Deriksha. "Hey! Put me down, Earthbrain!" "Give me one reason why!" "Because I'm your Toa-Brother!" Ikinu put down the squirming Toa of Air and gave him a light punch on the shoulder. "What are we supposed to be doing anyway?" Deriksha asked. "We were supposed to find Kreeku, he's gone missing." Deriksha's face went serious. "What happened?" "Nobody is sure. Last time he was seen was in Po-Ngaru." "We should probably get quick-moving then." The two walked through Le-Ngaru, Deriksha cutting through the vines with his axe. "So, how is the mining going?" Deriksha asked. "It's going good, the Onu-Matoran are hardy folks indeed." Ikinu said. Deriksha nodded. He had been trapped in a mine before, and he knew how strong those Matoran were. "What about the music playing? How has that been going?" Deriksha grinned. There was nothing he loved more than coming home to his people making beautiful music. "It's been going good Ikinu. Very good indeed." The Toa eventually got out of Le-Ngaru and began their journey through the desert of Po-Ngaru.
  6. Dawn is rapidly crawling forward, and I’ve finally grown weary of letting my eyes bore into the pixelated grey ceiling that reflects the inner skies of my thoughts, stormy and cold and no end in sight to the sheer grid of mistrust and shrouded beliefs.I know the night’s wearing thin because I can turn my head to the right and watch the sundial on my coffee table, all mahogany and high-class and mocking in its obstinacy, tick slowly forward, pushing the shadow of my doubts and lusts away from eyesight and into the room.I know that the sundial really isn’t ticking, but I can hear something going at an almost break-neck pace, and it takes me a second to realize that it’s not the movement of a small Rahi on the floor – this house, just like all the others owned in my name, is immaculate, and any pest that gets in would be rapidly exterminated – or the sound of any sort of wind chimes or any natural sound.No, this is the most unnatural sound of all, the one sound that cannot truly be explained or pushed away rationally, even after days or weeks or eons of thought; it’s the sound that blares during every special moment in your life, whether good or not-so-good, and it’s a sound that, when it finally dims and fades away, carries us along for the ride as we have carried it: a heartbeat.There’s a lot we don’t quite know about the psyche of people in general. We don’t know why certain Toa are inherently good and pure, and why in certain offshoots of our race there are Toa that are such a stark antithesis to the cookie-cutter, one-for-all-all-for-one heroes that the universe has come to know and adore that they sometimes aren’t even gifted with the title that the heroes bear; they just float, nameless, as much a shadow as the slowly-shrinking dark area on the sundial.We don’t know why people feel empathy, or sympathy, or any of the chemical reactions inside a person’s head that give them such a profound sense of right and wrong, good and evil, love and hate, that they all conform to those standards and then band together because of them, forming relationships and love affairs and families because of them.One of the quirkier, less philosophical things that I’ve always been fascinated with is the palette of colors that I see when listening to music. Pianos are a bright, vibrant blue, like the shining, almost transparent tears in a new father’s eyes as he gazes on his son for the first time, while the heavy, rhythmic pumps of a snare drum or a gong resemble punches, thrown into the serenity of the music with a blinding and pulverizing force that leaves nothing in its wake but bruised bodies and rent hearts. When I hear my heartbeat, strong and quiet and beating at an increasingly rapid rate, I see nothing but a flash of green, crisp and lush like a summer leaf that kisses your forehead as you walk underneath a tree, and, even though I know this will sound ridiculously weird, I see the color - and the girl - that I fell in love with.Almost as if the flash actually rocketed through the air around my heartbeat, like an explosion bursting in the sky, like the hearts of lovers as they lean in for a trembling first kiss, the bursting of the emotional levee that a stoic keep barricaded above the rising floodwaters of his negativity, his quelled depression, the room brightens visibly and the sundial stops pushing forward because there’s no shadow left to push; the dawn finally pushes its way through the closed curtains and I open my eyes slowly but surely. I hadn’t even realized I’d closed them, and I enter a repeat pattern of deep inhale exhale inhale exhale to help me focus my breathing. I’m meeting her for breakfast now, this morning, and I feel like at this moment, as I crawl out of bed and move out the window in that classic pose that every girl who loves romantic guys that love romantic poetry know and adore: all I need is a rope made of handkerchiefs as I leap from the third story and slide down the side of the wall into the Ko-Wahi snow. It’s cold outside, as it always is here in the area of Mata Nui enshrouded in permanent blizzard , but all I can think about is the previous night. ***** All I can think about is how we had played a couple melancholy, longing songs together before sitting on the bed, eating ice cream together and telling jokes and reading books and cuddling and doing all that kooky stuff that best friends do together, and all I can think about is how slowly, surely, after two decades of tension and longing and a fair sprinkling of indecision just to top things off, I asked her if she’d ever wanted something more out of a guy.“Well…” she had started, biting her lip and looking as contemplative as could be in that frail sort of cold logical way she had that I could never look at without smiling, “you know, Dorian, we as people live inside ourselves, whether we want to or whether we’re forced to. People keep secrets, people store white lies and thoughts and feelings inside themselves, let them ferment like wine. And then, when we finally dismantle that big emotional bomb inside ourselves, finally let these things out, we build ourselves another one and keep it stored. It’s a never ending arsenal. Maybe what I want…is someone who can help me disarm.”We were quiet, then, two starcrossed lovers, comets with tails and dreams and talents and fears on a path through the sky, dust in our wake; we were so close together and yet we were zooming past each other’s realm of comprehension with nary a warning flare or a siren’s call to scream out, Hey. Stop me. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.Yeah, Kynaera. I know what you mean.The reply did nothing to sate what I really wanted to say, did not tame the words inside of me gushing to come out like a carbonated love poem, and all the adjectives strung together in all the compliments in all the world couldn’t describe everything that I wished I could tell her at that moment, but I was nothing in her wake, and I couldn’t help but utter the most simple and inane responses imaginable.I was nothing in her wake, a drizzle compared to a monsoon, a gust to a tornado, and where in the wake of her toned, athletic form, her bright green eyes, her beautiful smile that could make the sun’s grin, so devious, so laced with a benign sort of trickery, turn to ash and blow away in the passing grips of the bands of her storm.She smiled sadly, as if she knew what was welling up inside my chest and my lungs, pulmonary amor liquefied and drowning my unworthy organs, and she set down her book onto the table by the sundial, already being forced back from its final stand by the creeping darkness moving clockwise across its surface. I whispered something irrelevant, inconsequential, a passing nuance of a remark on how it was getting late and if she wanted, I could walk her back home because the streets could get really dangerous at this point in the evening. Or morning; I wasn’t quite sure what time it was. All I knew was darkness, both emotional and physical; the exception was when I heard music, saw color, saw her.Without warning, she leaned in and kissed me softly, and all my metaphors and adjectives that I use to describe my thoughts and feelings went out the window with the last rays of sunlight as I leaned back and just enjoyed the ride. Green, green, a vibrant green glowed inside my eyelids, playing a springtime matinee of a pure, grassy color as my heart pumped faster, faster, so fast that it must surely burst; no man could be this happy without consequence, it was hubris, it was the worst kind of wrath incurrent to be this happy while others suffered and wilted like dying flowers in winter’s maw.Finally, we pulled away, like magnets that had finally grown tired of being attached, and she whispered quietly that she had to go, she had to get back to her family tonight, but she wanted to see me for breakfast in the morning so we could see how things go from here. My heartbeat answered for me, my dry tongue having failed me long ago, in the form of a recurring tattoo that must have purely been pushing through my skin. Briefly, it occurred to me that perhaps my heart could jump out of my skin, a skydiver without a parachute on the way to its final home on the well-furbished floors. ***** It didn’t, of course, because as my feet touch down onto solid ground and snow, I start to make my way towards the coffee shop and try to quell the green flashes that bombard my vision like artillery fire as I search every avenue, every inch of ground for a trace that she wasn’t too far ahead of me; perhaps I could surprise her, perhaps I could reach her from behind and hug her and spin her around and ask her right now the question that had been burning in my head for so long, a firework waiting to be lit in the recesses of my hopes and dreams.Kynaera. Will you let me be the one to help you disarm?As I toss around several variations of this question – most of them a lot less corny than the one I had initially poised – I finally take a right turn off the main square of Ko-Koro and find the café she’s talking about. She’s sitting there, alone, sipping pensively at a coffee that shouldn’t be hot but somehow manages to retain its heat in the presence of the athletic, graceful, slightly stiff but godlike Toa of Gravity that is holding it in her hand. She looks up and sees me, and my heart immediately shoots upwards into my throat.Ignition. We have liftoff. That’s one small step for man, one giant…My mental preparations for whatever this conversation may entail cut off as we move forward and embrace quietly, and as we sit down, I signal for a coffee lightheartedly; I have all the caffeine I need right here, and as I stare into her eyes, my heartbeat, the laughs and conversations of the crowd, and the whistling of wind against icicles on the roof above us all condense and combine into one giant kaleidoscope of colors – green and blue and a weird shade of grey - and sounds – laughter and love and peace and sounds I’d never heard before, save inside the most imaginative corridors of my eardrums.I love you.As soon as the words leave my mouth, all color, all sound, all pretense of normality and setting disappear and slide to black as I slip out of the chair. She laughs at first, quietly, but slowly I can hear the sound reaching a crescendo and fade away, and I realize that somewhere, somehow, even though it was the worst possible thing I could have done, I’d fainted.Well…maybe we can do dinner. ***** Yeah, it's another BZPRPG fanfic: this one is a character study/examination of my character Dorian and his best friend/maybe more Kynaera/Pride, back from before their descent into moral ambiguity. All credit for Kynaera goes to my compadre Legolover-361, and all critique you leave me is, again, always appreciated.Much love!-Teezy
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