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  1. Images courtesy of BS01 The Matoran Civil War started out as precisely that - Matoran trying to be civil to each other. However, one should never underestimate the passive-aggressive capacity of a slighted Po-Matoran sculptor, nor the one-upping tenacity of a Ta-Matoran smelter. Unfortunately, they both underestimated one another in these regards, and the whole city paid the price. Prologue: No Legends to Call Our Own There were legends, and there always had been. Tales of powerful and just Toa heroes who rose up to right the wrongs in the world, at the bidding of the Great Spirit himself. Toa heroes who wielded grand elemental powers, and the tales spoke of mystical Kanohi powers, used to beat back darkness threatening the Matoran. Everyone loved hearing these stories. Retellings of how mighty commander Toa led battalions against the fearsome League armies, centuries ago now, were always a crowd favorite. Stories of a small-town Matoran, chosen and transformed into a gallant Toa and overcoming the odds to save the day and his village he loves - those stories were becoming steadily more popular. The Matoran of Metru Nui loved the tales of the Toa because they were far-off and foreign tales, so far removed from anything remotely resembling the Matorans’ experience. These were stories, and they were safe, because that's all they'd ever be. Stories that were meant for a cozy evening in a pub after a long week, stories to give sop to a working Matoran’s dormant dreams of adventure and daring. Metru Nui, the Great City, was indeed great. No darkness dared threaten Mata Nui’s paragon city. The city itself was legendary, and so it needed no legends of its own. It would be bad for productivity. Even when the battles of the League of Six Kingdoms had raged throughout the world, the canny Matoran of Metru Nui had found a way to hold their own, and the threat of conquerors never even shadowed their sea gate. But when a threat had arisen from within the city itself? “I lost everything on those barges, Rofto,” the Ta-Matoran with the hood of his cloak pulled low over his mask confided to his companion. The two of them sat in a pub right outside Ta-Metru’s eastern firepits. The din of conversations around them, mostly other firepits workers, gave the establishment a homey atmosphere. There was a tournament of ‘cills going on in the corner. “That was ages ago.” Rofto tilted his head, asking for an explanation. During the time when the League of Six Kingdoms was expanding, although some would say conquering, the Ta-Matoran Crafter’s Coalition, alongside the Immolator Conglomerate, had worked tirelessly to broker a deal with one of the Barraki, supplying the far-away army with tools and parts for war vehicles and weapons maintenance and repair. It was a very lucrative deal. The Ta-Matoran had taken it upon themselves to see the production, assembly, processing, and shipment of the goods through from start to finish, shipping them out under the name of Ta-Metru. Outside trades were supposed to be under the name of Metru Nui first and foremost, because it usually took multiple Metru to create finished products. But the innovators from the Crafter’s Coalition had seen a chance to step up, and they had taken it, along with handsome war profits, which had in turn, revitalized the entire fire Metru. Ta-Metru was now, without doubt, the most well-off of the six districts of the Great City. Apparently, some of the sculptors over in the stone district didn’t like that. It must have been centuries ago now, the Ta-Matoran crafters had lost two trading barges, sunk in the harbor, only hours before the barges were to take the top notch Ta-Metru trade goods to the Southern Continent. The Fire Brands, Ta-Metru’s own policing force, had quickly identified a group of Po-Matoran assemblers who had sabotaged the barges. “I know the Fire Brands would have my mask for saying this,” Rofto continued in a whisper, “But nobody really believes that the warehouse fires in Po-Metru were an accident.” Not a month after the sinking of the Ta-Metru barges, Po-Metru had lost an entire block of warehouses to some convenient, rampaging fires. “It’s all water under the causeways,” the other Matoran waved a dismissive hand. “The point is, it’s practically been a millennia, and the cursed sculptors still are managing to block our trade regulation modifications in the Turaga’s Councils.” After the entire barge-sinking, warehouse-bombing fiasco between the sculptors and the smelters, Turaga Arrakio, in a rare direct order, summoned the foremost Matoran of both districts, in an attempt to get to the bottom of this dispute. What had ensued, unfortunately, was a filibuster of sorts, a stalling of the centuries. The Po-Matoran Crafter’s Commission, which was always in direct and confusing competition with the Ta-Matoran’s Crafter’s Coalition, started proposing modified trade regulations, trying to pass laws against Ta-Metru specifically. And, of course, the Ta-Matoran would not stand for it. And so, as legal battles kept the Turaga ensnared, Ta-Metru and Po-Metru were left to feud unchecked. Nobody really knew how long this had all been going on, but tensions in the city were high. The ever-increasing number of rampaging Rahi beasts in the city did not help. The sculptors, and everyone who took their side, which was most of Le-Metru by this point, were throwing accusations at the Onu-Matoran, who had allied with the Ta-Matoran against Le-Metru’s transportation monopoly. “Is it true that there are some Ga-Matoran who want to form a deal with us?” Rofto asked, eyes wide. Their water sisters were notoriously diplomatic and neutral, and had condemned the inter-Metru squabbling from the start. “I’ve heard that too." The hooded Matoran nodded, waving away the Matoran approaching to bus their table. “Students, from the School of Synthetic Sciences, looking for research funding.” Rofto sat back, and gave an impressed, quiet whistle. “Wow. If we can get the Schools helping us with the laws and the protodermis processing, that could really seal the deal.” The other Matoran’s eyes lit with his smile. “Exactly. But, Rofto. It’s getting more and more dangerous out there. Did you hear about Buon?” “Buon? From the furnaces? Yeah, tragic,” Rofto said sadly. He didn’t know the late furnace maintenance worker personally, but the loss of a brother was always a travesty. “Yeah,” and the Matoran leaned in, whispering, “The Fire Brands are saying it was a Rahkshi attack.” “A Rahi attack?” Rofto asked, also leaning in, because surely he'd misheard. “No. I thought the same thing when I first heard.” “If the Onu-Matoran are letting Rahkshi exhibits loose, and the city thinks we’re directing them…” Rofto’s eyes widened in fearful realization. “The other Metru would undoubtedly side with the Po-Matoran,” his companion said with an air of finality. “We’d be sunk.” The longer the stone-and-fire conflict went on, the stricter the measures became that the opposition was trying to force on the Ta-Matoran, and now their allies, the Onu-Matoran. “I heard there have even been deaths in Ga-Metru, and Le-Metru,” Rofto fretted. “It’s getting bad.” “The Matoran are scared,” his companion agreed. “From every district.” “We need unity,” Rofto said, after a moment. “I know I’m sick of all the inter-Metru restrictions cropping up after ever Turaga’s Council meeting. I haven’t been able to make it to a test track race in ages. Only the bigshots race in the Coliseum, and everyone knows those matches are as good as fixed, anyways." “You don’t think Turaga Arrakio could make the changes the people want?” “He’s practically senile,” Rofto sighed in frustration, to his companion’s amusement. “We need something to change the tides.” His companion opened his mouth as if to say something, paused, and closed it again, seemingly having arrived at a better judgment. "What?" Rofto pressed. “The Po-Matoran found a Toa stone,” the cloaked Matoran whispered, barely audible. Rofto gaped at him. “You’re kidding.” “No, someone in my firepits heard about it last week. I mean, if you've ever seen the size of those warehouse, it's really not a surprise they've dug one up.” “They can’t really know for sure,” Rofto shook his head, quickly dismissing the gossip. “What’s for sure, nowadays?” his friend shot back. “What if I told you that I do know for sure?” “I’d bet all my ancillaries and cogs I’ve got on me that you can’t prove it,” Rofto chuckled, hefting his widget pouch. Finally, Rofto’s companion pulled back the hood of his cloak, and leaned in urgently once more. “I know, Rofto, because I stole it from them.” “Nuok!” Rofto gasped, nearly falling out of his seat. The whole night, he thought his tablemate was just another weary firepits worker. “Rofto,” Nuok said, adopting a reassuring tone. “You’ve come to my attention, my group’s attention, as a Matoran who has integrity. I’ve spoken with your foreman from your firepits sector, and spoken with some coworkers. I always see you here on storyteller nights. You're clearly a visionary. We’re very impressed with you, and your strength of character.” “You-your group?” Rofto sputtered. Nuok, the overseer of the entire eastern sector of firepits, furnaces, and foundries in Ta-Metru was also one of the most influential voices on the Crafter’s Coalition, and he was rumored that he was the one who singlehandedly contrived and executed the Barraki deal back in the League days. They said he had a secret group of other high-up Ta-Matoran. Some of them, he’d heard, were even invited to the Turaga’s Councils. “Not to get hung up on the details, but yes. I’m here representing some crafters and the like who have grown tired of waiting on diplomacy that will inevitably fail us. We’ve pooled our resources to help … move things along. We are aware of who you are, and what you could do for this city and for your people.” Nuok stood, offering his fist in salute. Rofto clanked the executive Matoran’s fist in return, in a slight daze. “We’ll be in touch.” Review Topic Although this epic is part of a series, I'm hoping I can write it so it also works as a standalone. The review topic has an appendix of world information relevant but not key to the story, as well as links to other stories in the same vein, and some authors' notes, and fun facts! Related Reading:
  2. Prequel: Water's Will IPart I: The Ternion Part II: The Sculptors and the Smelters Review: The Ternion Saga Directory A. Story and Character Information Introduction Table of Contents Timeline References Cast of Characters Short Story Prequel Information Fun Facts and Miscellaneous B. Northern Continent Compendium Known Islands and Continents Northern Continent Maps The League Conquests C. Matoran Civil War Guide Overview Resources Maps Economy Overview Formal Economy Informal Economy Currency Metru Nui News Articles I. Intro ternion - [ˈtɜr ni ən ] noun, a set or group of three, trio, triad The idea for this epic came from a handful of characters who needed a place in the universe. After many long hours digging through BS01 and some old, beloved Bionicle books, they landed in earlier Matoran Universe history, on the cusp of the Matoran Civil War, and in a world that’s recently recovering from the conquests of the League of Six Kingdoms. There’s so, so much history of the original Matoran Universe, I love it. I do apologize if some sections of writing become too technical - I’ve really enjoyed speculating how the aftereffects of war affected the world. It’s been a nice training-wheels exercise in world-building. Also, to note - I haven’t looked into anything G2 related, so as a disclaimer, everything in the epic is strictly G1- based. Here, in this review topic, I’ve compiled some screenshots and maps that may or may not be as relevant to you as they’ve been to me, but nonetheless, I think would be helpful for an extra-curious reader. It’s been a refreshing adventure to dive back in and write this. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I’ve enjoyed writing! II. Table of Contents Prequel Short Story Water's Will - The tale of the last battle of the Hand of Artakha, and what tides changed the course of the world after. Part 1: The Ternion - A stasis capsule from an era past washes up on the shore of a small coastal town, Uahi, in the north-western region of the Northern Continent. A careful Toa of Fire, the sole guardian of the region so recently desolated by the conquests of the League of Six Kingdoms, is called to investigate. This is the story about what he found that day. Salvaged Trust but Verify Abaki The Ternion Year One Raze Sister Hounded The Historian Lawless The Creator Titan Part 2: The Sculptors and the Smelters - The Matoran Civil War started out as precisely that - Matoran trying to be civil to each other. However, one should never underestimate the passive-aggressive capacity of a slighted Po-Matoran sculptor, nor the one-upping tenacity of a Ta-Matoran smelter. Unfortunately, they both underestimated one another in these regards, and the whole city paid the price. III. Timeline References IV. Cast of Characters Ternion Members Erylist - black armor, green highlights, limited stealth-based power set Armonger - six limbs, not counting tail. water breathing, venomous bite, draconic appearance, blue and silver armor, good for camouflage in water. Seja - (like 'Sage-a') six limbs, two of which are metallic raptorial wings with integrated shield technology. dark violet armor. custom Kanohi Suletu Part 1: Matoran Vai - Onu-Matoran historian of Uahi, Kanohi Matatu Ulio - Fe-Matoran leader of Uhai village on the Northern Continent, Kanohi Komau Tirpi - Bo-Matoran fisher, discovers Erylist’s stasis container with Ixie Ixie - Ga-Matoran fisher, discovers Erylist’s stasis container with Tirpi Tengi - Ce-Matoran wrangler from Talozha on the Tren Krom Peninsula, Kanohi Kakama Koer - Po-Matoran trader and vendor from Tren Krom Peninsula, operating out of Stelt recently Part 1: Toa Toa Zoru - Mentioned by name only. Toa of Plasma, Kanohi Volitak. Toa Inokas - Toa of Fire, Kanohi Miru Toa Dustro - (due-stro) Toa of Air, Mask of Laser Vision Toa Hadia - Toa of Psionics Toa Shau - Toa of Sonics Toa Roveka - Toa of Water, Kanohi Arthron Toa Kapias - Toa of Stone, Kanohi Kualsi Toa Baridi - Toa of Earth, Mask of Emulation Toa Meyco - Toa of Iron, temporary Kanohi Kadin Part 1: Other Zimna - a female Vortixx trader Part 1: Canon Characters (cameo appearances, in order of appearance, carefully listed to garner anticipation) Johmak Brutaka Pridak Makuta Icarax Makuta Mutran Dume Hydraxon Helryx Nidhiki Artakha V. Short Story Prequel Info Water's Will - In a time where titans ruled and fought, vying for influence and power in the dawn of the Matoran Universe, one keen Toa of Water sees the need to enact great change, and the opportunity to do so. She takes it. Characters and Appearances VII. Fun Facts & Misc. Fun Facts! (may contain minor spoilers) - The Red Star's revival function will not be a part of this story. Check back here for story updates and expanded reference sections! Thanks for your time, and I hope it was worth your while! Aderia
  3. Last one! Part of this story A student's copy of a term syllabus for class at the Ga-Metru School of Arts and Society. Nokama is one of those professors who doesn't understand that students have other classes to manage besides hers. But on the plus side, she's very faithful to her posted office hours. COMM/SOC 0275: Communication and Conflict Nokama Ds.N Ga-Metru School of Philosophy and Society TEXTS: Ihu, K S. Essential Foundations of Metru Nui: Society and Culture. 4th ed., II, Scholars Nui Society . Nokama, Ds N. Basics of Matoran Communication: A Comprehensive Text. 6th ed., vol. 2, Ga-Metru Scholar's Conglomerate. Taipu, A M. The Great City - Early Centuries. Vol. 2, Archivist Foundation. COURSE PURPOSE, GOAS, AND OBJECTIVES: From this course, students will gain the ability to observe, analyze, describe styles and variations of communication around them, and synthesize their findings into methodical, accurate, and academic language. Students will also develop conflict-resolution skills through studies in interpersonal communication, communication breakdown and decline, and study of peace and negotiation tactics. This course combines theory with practice, encouraging students to see hypothetical or concrete conflicts through to the end, and equips students to document and provide academic commentary on the entire process. At the end of the term, students will understand the following principles of communication and conflict: Basic communication styles Common principles of conflict sources Elementary theory of Negotiation Conflict de-escalation Practical debate formation Compromise principles and documentation Conflict analysis and documentation COURSE REQUIREMENTS & GRADING: Attendance & Participation (10%): While not meant to make or break the student’s grade, attendance and full participation, both in class and in assignments is essential for the course. The professor reserves the right to deduct 2% of the final course grade for each unexcused absence. Case studies (20%): Three to four tablet length requirement, fine-tip chisel only. Students will submit six (6) write-ups in the conflict documentation format of their choice on case studies found in the corresponding section of the selected texts. Outside case studies, which can be found in both the Archives and the Knowledge Towers, are available through the inter-metru academic loan system, but must be pre-approved by the professor. Written exams (45%): The term will have three (3) exams, with dates to be announced. Exams will be culminating, and include 1) multiple choice, 2) extended analogy 3) essay sections. Exam format is subject to change at the professor’s discretion, but she will notify the class no later than three class periods in advance. Practical exams (45%): In the middle and at the end of the term, each student will attend an individual hypothetical conflict scenario provided in conjunction with the theater coalition of the Ga-Metru School of Arts and Society. Students must demonstrate understanding of negotiation and de-escalation principles during this time, and provide a complete write-up analysis of that scenario no later than one (1) week later. Note: Extra credit is for underachievers, and will not be offered under any circumstance. See posted course schedule, which is also subject to change, outside Nokama’s office located at 451 Wisdom Plaza, Suite #221. Note from the Dean: Due to troubling current events in the city, the administration urges professors to show leniency in their attendance policies, provided students can provide sufficient evidence legitimizing their absence. In the event conditions in the city escalate to the point where class must be cancelled, professors are not to penalize students or assign work outside of class, as that would put students in danger. In the unlikely event that conditions cause the schools to shut down, students will be able to re-enroll in any and all of their interrupted classes without charge, and without loss of credit. image courtesy of BS01
  4. The first of a small series of flash fiction to augment my current epic, setting some groundwork for how the Matoran Civil War is going to be portrayed. Not meant to be chronological. Also, a bit of a bother, as these don't merit a short story, don't fit into the review topic, which I'm using as a reference section, and I don't want them interrupting flow in the story topic. So blog it up, right? Fun and totally legit fact: the newspaper in Po-Metru is called The 'Po-'st. Mutant Snipes Take Northern Sculpture Fields by Reporter Kodan First spotted by the northern assemblers two months ago, the swarm of giant Sand Snipes has proven impossible to dislodge from the northern sculpture fields. The sculptures that remain have been assessed by the Committee of Master Carvers and deemed irreparable. “It was horrible. If you thought Sand Snipes were bad before, imagine them fifty times bigger - the size of a Dikapi! And dozens of them! The biggest sculpture - they leveled it in less than an hour!” says carver apprentice Hafu, an eyewitness from the northern assembler’s village. Hafu is lucky to have escaped the fields unharmed, after the swarm moved in from the southwest in the middle of the carvers’ workday. Not every carver working that day can say the same. “In the end, it was either the assemblers or their sculptures,” Hafu tells our reporter sadly. Evacuation of the entire northern assembler's village is currently underway, with hopes of completing the evacuation before the mutant Snipe swarm can turn on it. The unnatural Snipe swarm is suspected to have powers related to fragmentation or disintegration, but they unfortunately leave too little behind to say for sure. The few Archivists who will still cooperate with our reporters have identified Kraata remains among the wreckage, as well. It’s not been an easy two months, but the Carver Committee is working with other assemblers villages to accommodate the displaced northern village and their workload. If you or any Po-Matoran you know has space or resources to accommodate our brothers in need, please contact the Committee or the Garrison immediately. Stipends can be negotiated. Effective immediately, the northern fields are now a completely restricted zone. Once the assembler’s village is evacuated preventatively, it will also become restricted. The Po-Metru Garrison also asks you to report any of the following immediately: suspicious and/or unknown Rahi activity; suspected Ta-Matoran tampering in any establishment, including private residences; shipments with unauthorized receiving and tracking codes, even and especially internal shipments. The Garrison Matoran also continue to ask you to keep a lookout for any of the Matoran listed below, or report any news on their possible whereabouts. Mata Nui be with us all. image courtesy of BS01
  5. Aderia

    Dear Sanso

    Popular Le-Matoran advice columnist, Sanso, replies to a concerned citizen. Dear Sanso Dear Sanso, Even though I’m an quick-running Ussal messenger with a High-Flyer level commute badge, I’ve heard whisper-talk that soon the Smelters will close all borders to their affiliated metrus, bar-none. What’s the point of having earned a High-Flyer badge if I can’t get into Ga-Metru to see the beautiful [name redacted] again? Any advice-help? Sincerely, Pining from the Ussal Pens Dear Pining, Never-worry. Even if the whisper-talk is true, it will be tough-hard for the firespitters to orchestrate a complete border-bar. With our sneak-smart control over the communication waves and transmissions of our entire city-home, they won’t be able to enforce a moratorium on transmetru travel. We have so many option-plans to mess them up - from imposing radio silence to sending fake message-casts. You and your golden Ga-Matoran have nothing to doubt-fear. And besides, even if something happens, what’s a little travel ban to a high-flyer like you? Be ever-daring! Great Spirit’s Blessings! Sanso part of this epic Image courtesy of BS01
  6. A subjective glimpse into happenings in the Silent Metru as the Civil War escalates. (see more here) Image courtesy of BS01. Kopeke sighed and placed the stone tablet with young Ehrye’s untidy scrawl onto the ‘reject’ stack on his desk. The excitable Ko-Matoran wrote almost as well as a Le-Matoran airship assembly worker who worked too long with the lighter-than-air gas that filled zeppelin buoyancy chambers. But Mata Nui bless Ehrye’s persistent heart. This was the fifth article he’d submitted this month. Normally, Kopeke’s editors wouldn’t have passed on a submission this unprofessional and speculative on to his desk, but he suspected that they pitied poor Ehrye. Kopeke pushed aside worry that his editors were going soft on him, and began scanning the next tablet. Still Kopeke's mind was half-stuck on a semblance of a good point Ehrye had made. Perhaps he'd pass the submission on to the tabloids.
  7. Image courtesy of BS01. and here. Ties in to this epic, here.
  8. In Remembrance - an Obituary by Aft Great Furnace maintenance worker, Buon, was welcomed through the Gates of Artakha on the fourth of this month. If there was any Ta-Matoran who earned a rest in paradise, it was Buon. He was known throughout the district for his unsinkable spirit and dependable work ethic. Many a Matoran, from any district, were privileged to call him a close friend and brother. Buon also was working on a degree from the Ga-Metru School of Synthetic Sciences, studying Protodermis Engineering and Processes in Protodermis Refinery. Outside the classroom and workplace, Buon also boasted a large collection of model airships, some of his own design, which is a little-known fact about this late, beloved brother. A shrine for Buon will be constructed in the Ta-Metru entryway to the Coliseum at the end of this week. Investigators hope to find more information regarding the mysterious and tragic circumstances surrounding Buon’s death available for friends and co-workers by that time. At this time, authorities assert that there is no reason to suspect Sculptor activity or agenda, and ask for self-restraint when speculating. In these trying, uncertain times, Buon would have been the first to encourage his brothers and sisters to stand strong and stand together, looking to the Great Spirit for guidance. Let us remember him honorably. part of this image courtesy of BS01
  9. a chance meeting His feet dragged as he picked his way over the rubble and twisted metal of the street. He kept his club in his right hand but the arm was weak; blood flowed from a wound near the shoulder. He gasped in pain as he dropped down into a crater. There were more and more of these things every day. The distant rumbling of artillery made sure of that. He glanced over his shoulder and shook his head. “Forward...” he muttered, remembering the last cry of his commander. He ate a round from a plasma cannon shortly after that. He didn't know how far he had run since then. The Po-Matoran were knocking aside the entire advance; how many divisions were getting chewed up as he stood there? How many Matoran were dying in this pathetic war? He couldn't say. He didn't want to think about it. He turned away from the sounds of death and war and limped along the deserted road. He found an empty school to sleep in for the night. Desks made a good barricade for the door. This used to be a city-wide known school. Turned out some of the best thinkers of all Ga-Metru. Guilt pained him as he looked over the classroom. Many of the students put down their notes and picked up weapons. March, march little soldier, off to war over petty matters. Was it worth it? He flopped onto the ground. He didn't know. He had fought before. To protect an innocent Rahi from some trouble-makers. To insure his co-workers got a fair shake. He fought for what was right. He rolled over, drawing in a sharp breath. His shoulder throbbed in pain. Now he was wounded and running from a fight. Was it right to run? Was the fight right? He closed his eyes. He didn't know. He would think that over in the morning. His rest didn't last that long. A clattering woke him in the night. He rolled over and hopped to his feet; the burning in shoulder didn't make it an easy or quiet task. He transferred his club to his left hand. “Who's there?” he whispered. He hoped the shaking in his voice wasn't noticeable. “I'm a non-combatant.” a voice hissed back from the far side of the classroom. He snorted. That trick had be used far too many times to overwhelm scouts and pickets. “And I'm Mata Nui.” he retorted. The voice went silent and he could hear breathing. He raised his club, about to rush the being when it started talking again. “I'm a Ga-Matoran. This is my school. My name is-” He hissed at her. “No names.” “Why?” “I don't want to know the names of the people I might have to kill.” He replied, voice shaking. The Ga-Matoran grew silent. He tapped his club against the ground. “Why are you here, and not at the Temple like the rest of your people?” He almost laughed as that came out. There were enough Ga-Matoran sinking ships and marching in armies. “I...I came to get my notes. I didn't want them to get destroyed.” He laughed in the darkness. “You came to a war to get some slabs of stone? Are you nuts?” “This war is nuts.” He paused. She was right. It was nuts. And it was the Po-Matorans' fault. He coughed in the silence. “There isn't much left here, teacher.” Shuffling came from the other corner of the room, followed by the creaking of a drawer. “Just enough left. Do you have a light?” He shook his head then smiled to himself. She couldn't see that in the dark. “No. It's too dangerous.” She sighed in disgust. “I need to find the right-” “You want to find the right notes. We need to stay alive. There is a difference.” He could almost feel her gaze fall on him; he shivered a little. “Some of us are looking to this war ending.” she retorted. He opened his mouth to argue, but shut it. He was just thinking about that earlier in the day. Or was it yesterday? He didn't even know the time of the day. He hooked his club back on his belt. She didn't seem dangerous to him. Just a teacher, trying to survive, like the rest of the Metru. “How can we get back to the Temple?” he asked quietly. There was a clatter of objects against the floor. His felt his heart jump from the sound, but he calmed down quickly. “What?” came the reply, a shaky voice. “The Temple. How do we get back there?” Feet scooted against the floor. “You're a soldier. The Temple is for non-combatants.” He sighed. “There's no point to this war. I'm done fighting.” “....I can't trust you.” “I'm done.” His voice was firm, absolute. “I am done. This war has done nothing, started over nothing. Trade rights? The price of pots and tools? Laughable.” He sighed deeply. “I'm done. I don't want to pick up the pieces of my friends anymore, and I don't want to make the other guy do it either.” He listened, waiting for a response, but none came. A sudden crash made him dive to the ground, club pulled and ready, but nothing followed. He listened for a few more minutes. “Hello?” Nothing. She ran. She ran and left him there. He swore silently, swore at her, the war, and the entire city. He adjusted his position on the floor and felt himself begin to cry. He fell asleep shortly after. – He dipped the mask back into the fire, frowning as he did it. The left-hand side of the mask wasn't matching up properly with the right, and that just wouldn't do. He let the magma flow over the mask slightly, and- “No, no, no!” he shouted, pulling his tongs back quickly. What remained of the mask was just enough to make a spoon if he wanted. He swore and tossed the tongs to the ground. “Fifth one today!” he yelled at the forge in front of him. He turned on his heel and ran into a pair of pillars. “Oof!” he grunted, falling to the ground. He blinked and glanced up at a pair of golden and red legs, attached to the powerful form of a Toa. He was holding a stone in his hand, and as he bent down, he said- – He jumped awake and glanced around the school. Still alive. Still in Ga-Metru. He took several deep breaths and climbed to his feet. “Freaky dream.” he muttered. He shook his head and yawned. Wouldn't be the last of them either; he'd been having dreams like that for....years now. He checked his shoulder. “Huh.” A bandage was wrapped around the wound. “She..musta...” He nodded slowly. Somebody did it. There was still good out here. As he bent over to pick up his club, he noticed a note on the floor near it: directions to the Great Temple. He smiled. He wanted out of this war, and maybe, someday, he would be out. Someday it would end. But not today. Not today. Today though, he would dream, and hope, for the future. He slid his club into his belt, hopped out a broken window, and began picking his way towards the Great Temple. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Author's Note: This is my first, and possibly not the last, of my Bionicle related writings. Set during the Matoran Civil War, a Mask Maker and a Teacher encounter each other on the streets of Ga-Metru, and hope is kindled in both. I admit, when I first had the idea to write this, I almost laughed it off. Write a story based on a toy? Are you serious? But I took the task on, and it has been highly enjoyable. Details regarding finer workings of the Matoran themselves and the surrounding war might be wrong, but the central plot is fiction. The inspiration for the characters is certainly up to the reader to decide, but it isn't a well kept secret for the more knowledgeable followers of this toyline's lore. Thank you for reading, and please comment below any comments or criticism. A tree cannot grow if it is not watered and trimmed, and a writer is the same.
  10. Author's note: just a quick something i thought up and wanted to write. i figured the red star must have been functional at this point, right? what would that have been like, since i'm sure it was being used a lot... I got logged out while typing this, so was only able to post this much. I'll either finish it later, or add it as another post. Currently having problems while editing on mobile, so that's fun too. Anyway... Here's what I managed to save. Is there a way to save draft posts manually? For a while now, the city of Metru Nui had been at war. It had started as something petty between po-matoran and ta-matoran, but the other districts eventually got drawn into the conflict, and the fighting started to get more serious. today, that's why there was a ko-matoran sitting at the top of a knowledge tower in a sniper's nest with some new kind of launcher the city's matoran had recently been employing to great lethal effect, rumored to have been built on Xia. there was a small scope on top of a long cylinder, with a trigger mechanism at one end. when the trigger was pulled, a small explosive charge launched a tiny metal fragment out of the other end of the cylinder at a very high speed. The ko-matoran willed the mechanical lens in his akaku to activate, sliding down in place over the right eyehole in his mask. it softly wirred as he inspected the landscape. if his intel was correct, the canal below him was about to allow a small squad of ga-matoran to sneak into the metru, and break into the knowledge tower he was in to steal or destroy some rather valuable documents detailing plans on ko-matoran war strategy. as the sniper on his team, it was his job to take them out as they arrived in the canal, before they could do anything to the researchers in the tower on the floors below him. nobody thought they'd be dumb enough to openly row in on a boat, but just as a precaution, all shipments to the area had been put on hold for the day. Snow began to gently drift down from the grey skies above. the ko-matoran still sat in wait, peering out the open window. every once in a while, he'd check his weaponry, making sure everything was ready, even though he knew it was. a couple times, he almost reached for his radio to ask their leader if they were sure this was the tower the ga-matoran were after, but realized the noise could give away his position to anyone who might be watching - a relatively new tool, the radio he was using was not refined, and made a loud cackle whenever someone on the other end started talking, so it would have to stay off for now. As the appointed time limit came and went, every ripple in the water made the ko-matoran jump. the gentle breeze moving between the towers made far more ripples than he could pay attention to, but some were larger than others, and drew his attention quickly, and increased his heart rate, which, he noted, was not good for someone who needed to be a good shot. There. That last one wasn't just a wind-created ripple, he was sure of it this time. once more employing the lens on his akaku, he zoomed in, and saw that, indeed, a small and discreet periscope had just surfaced in the canal, peering left, then right. with his heart pounding, he willed his mask's lens to move out of the way, and instead lined up his eye with the scope on his weapon. a blue mask came out of the water, and the matoran wearing it followed. as the ga-matoran silently climbed out of the canal, three others surfaced and followed. at the top of the tower, the ko-matoran made a mental note that their latest source of intel on ga-metru was one for one so far. still watching through his weapon's scope, he slipped his first finger over the safety switch, and disabled it. the ga-matoran who had climbed out of the canal first turned away from his teammates and began moving towards the tower, signaling for the others to follow. the ko-matoran had a perfect shot, but once one was down, the others would be harder to hit, and he'd likely be compromised. he exhaled all of his breath. it was a risk he'd have to take, since there wasn't anyone else on this mission with him today. maybe we ice matoran should reconsider working alone, he thought. his finger began to squeeze the trigger... moments earlier... A ga-matoran and her three ga-matoran teammates swam through the icy canals of ko-metru. over their kanohi masks, they had a breathing apparatus that would allow them to stay under water without surfacing for air. besides that, they did not have much else with them, for they were on a stealth mission - they aimed to steal valuable information on enemy positions, and more gear would just be noisy and slow them down, particularly in the typically quiet district of ko-metru. when they reached the designated spot, their leader swam towards the surface of the canal, and pulled out a periscope to scout the area. the ga-matoran watched his head breach the surface, and then his signal for the rest to follow. the ga-matoran waited for her turn as the second of her team swam her way to the surface and climbed out, then she followed. as her head breached the surface, she felt the frigid air blow across her mask's eye and mouth holes, and the back of her head, chilling her. she climbed out of the canal, and turned to help her last teammate, who slipped a little as he climbed out. their leader nodded to them, turned and motioned for them to follow him to the knowledge tower he was pointing at. CRACK. The loud report of the rifle echoed a thousand times through the icy ko-metru air. up above, the ko-matoran took a breath, and reached to chamber another round in his weapon before realigning his eye with the scope. on the ground, it seemed like the next half second took an hour, and the following seconds ages. the ga-matoran saw her leader stiffen and jump backwards, then twist and collapse, supine on the ground before his team. the first thing they noticed was that his eyes and heartlight were dark. then their attention was drawn to the spiderweb of cracks on his mask, all drawing their origin back to a large hole where he'd been hit. blood began to seep from behind the mask and the back of his head, staining the many snowflakes that had begun to accumulate on the street. his second-in-command gestured sharply for the team to retreat, and they obeyed without questioning her order, although the ga-matoran couldn't help but steal a look back at their fallen leader. her teammate that she had helped out of the canal dove back in, quickly resurfaced, and raised a smaller projectile weapon, aiming where he thought the attack had come from, covering for his two remaining teammates. High in the tower, the ko-matoran took aim at the woman who was obviously the first man's lieutenant, and fired again. his first shot had been a bull's eye, but with his targets now on the move, his second shot missed, and barely clipped the arm of the other woman on the team. the last ga-matoran still standing, a man who had been carrying most of their minimal gear, was already back in the canal, and was returning fire, giving time for the lieutenant to go back for their fallen commander. as the matoran in the canal fired wildly, the ko-matoran was forced to pull back for a moment as a stray shot came too close for comfort, even though it was obvious his opponent had no idea where he was. Two of the ga-matoran were now back in the canal, and the last was on her way. the ko-matoran fired again, forcing her to drop the fallen first matoran as the ko-matoran missed and hit her hand. the ga-matoran tripped, and fell into the water. the ko-matoran leaned out the window just a little more to get a better shot - this was his last chance to hit another one of them before they got away, he was sure of it. his shoulder brushed up against something, but he payed no attention to it - he had to make this shot! unfortunately, that something started to fall out the window, and too late, he realized het'd made a fatal error - his radio! if that fell, then his position would be compromised, and beyond that, anyone who took the fallen item might be able to spy on ko-matoran communications. he took his hand off the barrel of his weapon to swipe at the falling object, and... He caught it. just barely. inching himself back to safety inside the tower, he held the radio in one hand, and his weapon in his other. however, with only one hand to support the weapon, it was too heavy, and began to sag forward, and the stand he had it propped up on to steady it popped out from underneath it. the sudden motion pulled him forward, and with both hands full, he desperately grabbed at the window sill to no avail. he slipped from his perch, and watched the ground suddenly rush closer, with the wind whistling in his ears. *** The body of the slain ga-matoran laid alone on the ground in streets of ko-metru. the snow was falling harder now, and the other three still living matoran had fled, under attack with no obvious source, and unable to defend themselves. were it not for the body and bloodstains, the scene would be peaceful, beautiful. as if to remind an onlooker that this scene was not in face peaceful nor beautiful, a second matoran, this one of ice, suddenly came falling from the sky and crashed to his death on the pavement next to the first matoran. his armor was cracked all over, and his blue eyes and heartlight flickered briefly for a second before going dark. his hands slackened, and the rifle and radio he was holding softly clattered as they laid on the pavement. *** the ko-matoran woke up, or at least he was pretty sure he did. there were bright lights, bright enough to make it hard to see. he was laying on a slab, and someone or something, maybe many someones or somethings, were poking, pulling, and prodding at him. before he could figure out much more of what was going on around him, he fell painfully back asleep.
  11. I was on the Matoran Civil War page on BS01, and I noticed something about the sides. Po-Metru, Le-Metru, and Ko-Metru aligned together, while Ta-Metru, Onu-Metru, and Ga-Metru formed the other alliance. Going forward another 80,000 years or so, the Toa Metru emerge. From the outset, Onewa and Matau strongly disliked Vakama, while Nokama strongly favored him. Whenua leaned slightly towards Vakama, while Nuju leaned slightly away from him. This is exactly how the Matoran Civil War turned out, and this points to island-wide racism between the Metru, because these disagreements between the Toa started as soon as they met, which points to them being predisposed to these opinions. Thoughts on this? Other instances of this sort?
  12. Rise of the Rahkshi "You don't hurt 'em if you don't hit 'em."- Lieutenant General Lewis B. "Chesty" Puller, USMC Hafu looked down on the assembled Ta-Matoran from a rooftop. Their movement into Po-Metru had gone unchecked for days now. The mostly barren district, dotted with a few carver’s homes and sculptures, provided little in the way of natural barriers to keep out invaders or provide cover for the defenders. As a result, the 1st Po-Metru Squadron had been pushed back time after time and was in danger of being marched right into the sea.The fiery tempers of Ta-Matoran that started this civil war also made them very effective at prosecuting it. Their warriors were unafraid of collateral damage, Kanoka disks, and pretty much anything the Po-Matoran could throw at them. If there was one thing they feared, it was their commander Riami.Riami was a powerful trader before this whole mess started and was known for his hardline negotiating style and refusal to quit until his goals were met. This translated into warfare with considerable effectiveness. An old proverb went “the Great Spirit is in the heartstone of every Matoran”. That considered, Riami seemed to be on a mission to slay the Great Spirit himself judging by how many Matoran had fallen to his brutal, elite unit. Their merciless fighting style led to the nickname “Rahkshi” by both their allies and opponents.And now it was up to Hafu and his scouts to hold them off.Hafu had received word from the chain of command that their new Le-Matoran allies were cooking up a surprise for the Rahkshi. As a mere sergeant it wasn’t his place to know what this plan was, just that it was up to him to keep the Ta-Matoran occupied long enough to spring it.“Well, just me and my favorite Ta-Matoran marauders,” Hafu mumbled to himself. “I don’t care what rank Ahkmou is, he’ll get a piece of my mind after this.”Hafu grimaced as one of the wandering Ta-Matoran raiders kicked a statue over. He worked hard on that! His first reaction was to shout obscenities as he would have before the war, but then he remembered the assembled army below him. Not a good idea, Hafu.There was a tap on his shoulder that made Hafu jump up as if stung. “Mata Nui, Onewa! Announce yourself next time,” whispered Hafu. “I’m sure the Rahkshi would love that,” replied Onewa. “I have word from Ahkmou. Our spy reports that the Riami’s men plan on a rendezvous at the Archives, where they can meet up with Nuparu’s men. We don’t want them to get there. The last thing they need is that blasted Nuparu working on their weapons.” Hafu frowned. While Po-Metru was very much the manufacturing core of Metru Nui, the Onu-Matoran were mostly responsible for the design of the products produced there, including weapons. Allowing the Rahkshi to break through would practically hand them the district.“Alright, I think we should act now,” said Hafu, handing Onewa a Kanoka disk. “You run over to that other rooftop and shoot that guy in the face with this disk.” “What? What kind of plan is that?” said Onewa, flabbergasted. “Shoot that guy in the face? What guy? What disk is this anyway?” “Read the code genius, and I assumed you would realize Riami is the guy we want,” replied Hafu tersely. “Oh yeah great idea, let’s shoot a disk at the leader of a murderous band of Ta-Matoran and then walk away clean. Another Hafu original.” Their argument was interrupted by the edge of their rooftop being turned into some sort of topiary.“You Po-Matoran really need to learn some discretion,” yelled a Ta-Matoran from below. Hafu peered over the remains of the wall and saw about sixty Kanoka disk launchers pointed at him. “Oh yeah Onewa, my plan was awful. I like the “get everyone’s attention” tactic you’ve just employed, they’ll be teaching it in Ko-Metru –“ The rooftop froze. “Never mind, we can discuss this later,” said Hafu.Hafu and Onewa scampered across the rooftop, ducking all manner of Kanoka disks being lobbed at them. “You know, here’s a new plan,” panted Onewa. “We keep running around until they run out of Kanoka disks.” “I think a better plan would be to just trust my plan,” hissed Hafu. “If they run out of disks they take out their swords, and they may not have any fancy Kanoka powers but stabbing still seems pretty severe.” “Such a critic!” yelled Onewa, and threw the disk Hafu handed him into the crowd of Ta-Matoran. About forty-five of them vanished.“Wow, good deal,” said Hafu. “Glad I grabbed that high powered teleporting disk before the war broke out and the Ta-Matoran monopolized the darn things.” “I agree, this is probably one of the better results of a teleportation disk I’ve ever gotten,” said a voice behind Hafu. Hafu turned and saw Riami along with about ten other Ta-Matoran, now behind them on the rooftop. “Well that went poorly,” said Onewa.“Do you really think that we would so willingly let our Kanoka stockpile vanish?” smirked Riami. “Deceit is a funny thing, stone rat. Every Kanoka produced for export in the last three months has been mislabeled. That level eight disk was more like a level two. I’m surprised I moved as far as I did, although I can’t complain about the strategic value of ending up right behind your opponent.”Hafu grinned and held up a disk marked 421. Riami was visibly shocked. “I take it this isn’t a low powered disk?” smirked Hafu. “Wha-where did you get that?!” demanded Riami, and put a foot on Hafu’s chest, drawing his sword. “You don’t think we’re aware of your little plot? Reverse order is a terrible, terrible way to disguise something,” chided Hafu. “And judging by the look on your face I’d say this is the Great Kanoka Disk of Ko-Metru. Not something you should try to vandalize.”Riami looked like he was about to explode with anger, but his blade held fast out of fear of exploding with the most powerful freezing effect on Metru-Nui. “How do you know of the great disks, carver? That is considered a maskmaker’s secret,” growled Riami. “I personally dabble in maskmaking. It’s one of my favorite hobbies along with Akilini, Muaka wrestling, and helping Ta-Matoran with their anger issues,” joked Hafu. “Hafu, why would you view it as wise to annoy this guy?” sighed Onewa. “Well, we have the most powerful freezing disk on Metru Nui right now. If anyone tries anything, we’re all popsicles. Now I love me, but in terms of strategic value I think two carvers is a small price to pay for stopping the pride of the Ta-Matoran military,” explained Hafu.Onewa was startled. Hafu never spoke so selflessly before. His sole aim in the war had always seemed to be his own hide. Onewa remembered groaning when Hafu was promoted to sergeant and thought of entire units of Po-Matoran fleeing across the desert. What had changed? “I thought about it when I saw your man kick over that statue. I can run, I can hide, but not before you destroy everything I ever worked for and loved. I guess I’ve decided to make a stand.”The Ta-Matoran who hadn’t been teleported to the rooftop watched, transfixed by the exchange up above. One of them drew a fire staff.“Well, it’s been real Riami. You do have some anger issues to work out, so I think we should all chill out for a bit.” On that note, Hafu froze the entire rooftop.The dozen or so remaining Ta-Matoran were shocked. The majority of their chain of command was frozen on a rooftop, and there they sat almost leaderless. “Well what are you waiting for?” said the Matoran with the fire staff. “Let’s go thaw them out!” The Matoran raised his fire staff high and fired off the symbol of unity, duty, and destiny into the air. “Sergeant Vakama, with all due respect, what does that accomplish for us?” asked Nuhrii, looking up at his sergeant with a bemused expression. “This,” grinned Vakama, and a airship sped across the sky dropping several Le-Matoran in its wake. The company of Matoran levitated above the ground momentarily, and then spread out to surround the remainder of Riami’s troops.“Traitor!” gasped Nuhrii. “Am I?” asked Vakama. “I had a dream the other night; a dream of death. I’m sure you all have, but this was far darker. It was the death of the Great Spirit. If we are all part of Mata Nui, then why would we kill each other? This has to stop before everything ends.” “I knew it,” said Jaller, standing off to the side. “I say we kill him!” There were general yells of agreement from the surrounded Ta-Matoran. “Did you not hear anything I just said?” yelled Vakama. “You will kill Mata Nui, and for what? Border disputes? The price of protodermis?” “Shut your traitorous mouth!” said Kapura, drawing his sword. “Look at what you’ve become. They call you Rahkshi. Is that what you are, a beast? A monster?”“Hey, um, firespitters,” interrupted Matau, leader of the 1st Airborne Le-Matoran Squadron. “Before you kill old futurewatcher here, I’d just like to remind you that we have you surrounded. Just something to considerthink.” “You don’t think we can fight our way out? We’re Rahkshi! The most feared force on the –“ The Le-Matoran opened fire with a wide variety of disk powers. The boasts stopped, as did most other movement.“Well that should cease his bragsaying,” said Matau with a sense of finality. “You alright firespitter?” Vakama got up and pushed his way out of the circle of frozen and otherwise altered Ta-Matoran. “I think I got hit with a regeneration disk, so I feel great. By the way? Not the best disk to shoot at your opponents,” Vakama replied. Matau chuckled. “Oh firespitter. You truly are a joy to work with.” “Likewise,” said Vakama. “Maybe we’ll see each other again someday.” “Believe me, I’ll make a point of it,” said Matau and raised his hand to signal for his unit to fall in behind him. A small stasis bubble descended from the airship and picked up the Le-Matoran, returning them to the skies.Vakama now stood alone in what seemed like a vast field of icy sculptures. The Rahkshi would thaw, no doubt, but they had prevented what seemed to be inevitable defeat. Perhaps these Po-Matoran could return to their homes soon. Perhaps a settlement could be reached.But first, his friends had to be taken care of.Vakama climbed the steps of the half frozen carver’s hut and reached the roof. Taking out his fire staff, he thawed out Onewa and Hafu.“Thanks Vakama. Knew you’d come through,” said Onewa gratefully. He then turned and punched Hafu square in the jaw. “Ow! What was that for?” gasped Hafu. “For that obnoxiously corny line! Up until that point I hoped you would have been remembered in tales as a hero, but if the legends include the whole ‘chill out’ pun I think I’ll be sick.” “Yeah, you need to work on that a little. Now let’s get out of here, these guys won’t be frozen forever.” Vakama, Onewa, and Hafu turned away from the battlefield and walked off.---The trio of Matoran left just in time, as Riami was among the first to thaw. “Men! Rally around me! We will seek vengeance for this humiliation!” he yelled. Few Ta-Matoran joined him. He drew his sword. “You fight with me, or against me! Pick a side!” “Do you think the Great Spirit’s really dying?” asked Jaller, concerned. “Be concerned about your own death if you trouble me with such thoughts,” Riami replied. “Rally! We will make these stone rats pay!” “I don’t think the Great Spirit would take kindly to being killed,” said Jaller. “Have you considered that there may be some divine intervention coming our way if this continues?” “Nonsense. You make as much sense as those moronic seers on the Knowledge Towers. Fall in! We own Po-Metru tonight!”There was a horrific hiss from the direction of the Archives, and all of the remaining Rahkshi turned to see a massive horde of actual Rahkshi descending upon them. “Well, it was nice knowing you,” said Jaller, and moved in the opposite direction of the incoming horde along with a majority of Riami’s unit.Riami stood alone against the horde. “Come on, you ugly beasts! Face me! Face Riami, the true Rahkshi!” A large being appeared, grabbing Riami and disappearing.---The next thing Riami knew, he was walking with a strange giant with giant golden fangs. “I appreciate this whole ‘massacre’ thing you had going on,” said the being. “What – who are you?” gasped Riami, confused as to where he was. “I am Botar,” the being replied. “And you have given me quite the mess to clean up.”The lumbering Botar stopped short of a large imposing gate guarded by a silver giant. “Hello Hydraxon,” said Botar. “We’ve got another one.” “Great news, great news,” nodded Hydraxon. “Soon this entire ordeal will be over. Any news on the big man upstairs?” “Kind of a casual way to refer to the Great Spirit, but the news is not good. They’re dispatching a Toa team as we speak.” Riami, bold up until now, was horrified. What had he done?“And the Brotherhood?” “Oh you know Teridax,” spat Botar. “Has all the finesse of a Tahtorahk on ice. There’s roughly six hundred Rahkshi just ravaging Metru Nui right now. Because, you know, the best way to stop Matoran from killing each other is to kill them all.”“That’s a shame. At least we stopped this so-called ‘Rahkshi’,” mocked Hydraxon. Riami shook with terror. “How’s it going? That whole ‘fearless monster’ thing working out for you?” asked Hydraxon. Riami stammered but before he could answer Hydraxon aimed a sharp punch at his ribs. “You are not fearless it seems,” smirked Hydraxon. “But you are a monster. Have fun in there. Maybe you’ll make some new friends!” The jailer chuckled as he threw Riami roughly into The Pit.---As Vakama, Onewa, and Hafu continued their long foot journey back to the Po-Matoran headquarters, they found their way blocked by Jaller and a few other remnants of Riami’s Rahkshi.“Still? Have you not learned?” cried Vakama, exasperated. “No, I believe I have,” said Jaller. “Unity, duty, and destiny. It’s more important than I thought. It’s not some battle cry or anthem, it’s a way of life. Maybe I got so caught up in unity with my district that I forgot unity with my brothers.” “Agreed,” said Nuhrii. “When Riami stood there in front of that horde of Rahkshi I saw a madman. He truly is an affront to Mata Nui and I hope he gets his just desserts.”“Glad we’re in agreement then,” said Vakama. “So can we stop trying to kill each other?” Nuhrii laughed. “Of course…brother.”Hafu had to admit he was glad with how all this turned out. These ‘Rahkshi’, for all their faults, were some decent people in the end. He was glad to see them rise above the mob mentality of their leader and become something greater: Matoran, not beasts. “So Onewa,” began Hafu. “Yes, oh great one, your plan worked to perfection,” finished Onewa, rolling his eyes. “No, no. Nothing of the sort. I’d imagine that now that this whole thing is over they’ll probably get Akilini going again. Want to try out for the district team?” Onewa chuckled. “Akilini sounds like a great way to resolve our issues. Nobody gets hurt and everybody has a good time. How refreshing, actually.”“We just have to wait for those darn Rahkshi from the archives to stop their pillaging. Who thought that was a good idea, in all honesty?” frowned Hafu. “Actually,” said Onewa. “I’d prefer it if we didn’t mention Rahkshi for a while.”__________________________Well guys, there's my SSC8 entry. I'd never entered one of these before so I figured I'd give it a shot. Let me know what you think!
  13. Welcome to my ripped off mashed up story! Please note that respective characters, phrases, locations and all other related nouns are the properties of their respective owners. This story is rated PG, and contains mild, Bionicle related violence. I will be updating the story once a day (Oct. 15-21, 2011) for the first six days (as those chapters have already been written) and then about once a week afterwords. Please read and review and enjoy the story! Fire Versus Ice The Whisper Canyon Chronicles A Combination Fan Fiction By Ignacis Chapter One Why Are We Here? Metru Nui was no stranger to civil war. It had been a few years after the Great Matoran civil war, but tensions were still high among the Matoran of the Great City. So when Makuta Teridax, their new leader, told the Ta-Matoran of the Ko-Matoran’s plot to gain back lost territory during the war near their mines in Onu-Metru, it was only a matter of time before new sides were drawn, and the Matoran were back on the front lines. Now they were divided into the two main elements of fire and ice. This stemmed from the two original groups that started the war, but not all of the Matoran were ready for another full scale, intercity conflict. Some stayed neutral, while others became arms for hire. Still more betrayed their Metru’s to fight for whom they thought were the true victims in the situation. But of all the stories, the battles, and all the platoons in the two Matoran armies, one set of warring factions in particular became the most intriguing, and influential in all the war. Their battle was for a simple canyon, which contained only two bases. The Fire army of Ta, Po and Onu-Metru built one, and another was constructed for the Ice army of Ko, Le and Ga-Metru. This site would become known as the Canyon of Unending Whispers. The conflict would go down in history as the Whisper Canyon Chronicles. These are those soldiers’ stories. * * * It was four months after the start of the Second Matoran Civil War. Jala was standing guard on top of the local Fire Army’s base with his partner Nuhrii. Jala wore yellow armor, with a replica of a great Hau on his face. Nuhrii was maroon color from his feet to his Noble Ruru replica Kanohi. The air was dry, the sun was scorching, and above all, Jala was stuck with Nuhrii, who was about biggest suck up in the entire war. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Nuhrii spoke to him.“Hey,” he said, turning to face Jala.“Yeah?” he replied.“You ever wonder why we’re here?”“That’s one of life’s great mysterious, isn’t it? Why are we here? I mean, are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is there really a Great Spirit and Great Beings, watching everything, you know? With a plan for us and stuff? I don't know brother, but it keeps me up at night.”“What? I mean why are we out here? In this canyon?“Oh! Uh…yeah…” said Jala, trying to sound like he knew what Nuhrii had been talking about all along.“And what was all that stuff about Mata Nui?”“Ah, nothing.”“Do you want to talk about it?”“No.”“You sure?”“Yeah.”“Seriously though, why are we here? As far as I can tell, this is just a semi-boxed in canyon in the middle of Po-Metru with only two ways in or out, and that’s behind our bases. And the only reason we have Fire base here, is because they have an Ice base there, and the only reason they have a Ice base there, is because we have an Fire base here.”“That’s because we’re fighting each other, Akilini-Head,” said Jala. He was starting to get annoyed already.“But still, if we were to pull out today, and they were to come in here and take our base, they would have two bases in the middle of a semi-boxed in canyon. Whooptidoo.”“What’s up with that any way? I signed up to fight some wild Rahi and crazy Po-Matoran, but next thing I know, Makuta Teridax comes in a kills everything and everyone, and I am stuck here fighting a bunch of blue, green and white guys over some stupid plot of land. Talk about a waste of resources. I mean, we should be finding new and dangerous forms of Rahi and fight them.”“You’re right. That’s why they should put us in charge,” said Nuhrii. * * * It was a hot, summer's day in Po-Metru and the Ice Army was spying on the Fire army. The Ice Army had set up their base first, but by the next day, the Fire army was there, with a fully operation base and a platoon of soldiers ready to fight them. Because they were under direct orders not to attack unless attacked, the Ice army spent most of their days scouting. A light blue, Great Pakari replica wearing Matoran named Takua, (who had transferred over to being a Ko-Matoran because he felt sympathetic with the them and had even undergone reconstruction to become various shades of light blue, to match the Ice army's general color scheme) was scouting with a Le-Matoran named Kongu, who wore a teal Kanohi Great Miru replica. The two had perched themselves on the ledge and Takua was using his upgraded disk launcher to spy on them while Kongu acted as a look out.“What are they doing?’ he asked suddenly.“What?” asked Takua in disbelief of what he was hearing.“I said, ‘What are they doing now?’”“Mata Nui curse you! I am getting so sick of answering that question!”“Hey you got the sniper launcher! I can't see Rahi droppings! Don't sit and yell at me because I am not going to sit up here and clean my Kanohi all day!”“Okay look; they are just standing there and talking, okay? That’s all they’re doing. That’s all they ever do is just stand there and talk. That’s what they were doing last week. That’s what they were doing when you asked me five minutes ago. So five minutes from now, when you ask me, ‘What are they doing?’ my answer is going to be they are still just talking and they are still just standing there.”Kongu paused and look around for signs of incoming enemies, but seeing nothing return to their conversation. “Well what are they talking about?”“You know what? I hate you.” Returning to his view through his disk launchers scope, he could see something different now. A third Matoran, this one in all red and wearing a specially designed Kanohi approached them. Well what do you know? Thing may finally get interesting around here after all.
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