Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'matoran'.



More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Announcements & Administration
    • Reference Desk
    • BZPower Q&A
    • BZPower.com News Discussion
  • LEGO Discussion
    • Bionicle Discussion
    • Bionicle Storyline & Theories
    • Ninjago Discussion
    • Hero Factory Discussion
    • LEGO Discussion
  • Creative Outlet
    • LEGO-Based Creations
    • Library
    • Artwork
    • Games & More
  • BZPower Discussion
    • General Discussion
    • Convention & Event Planning
    • BioniLUG Discussion
    • Buy/Sell/Trade
  • Affiliates
    • BS01/HS01
  • Non-LEGO Forums
    • Completely Off Topic
    • Off Topic Culture

Calendars

  • Community Calendar
  • BioniLUG Calendar

Blogs

  • blogs_blog_1
  • blogs_blog_2
  • blogs_blog_3
  • blogs_blog_4
  • blogs_blog_5
  • blogs_blog_6
  • What You Want Is Now
  • blogs_blog_8
  • blogs_blog_9
  • blogs_blog_10
  • blogs_blog_11
  • blogs_blog_12
  • blogs_blog_13
  • blogs_blog_14
  • blogs_blog_15
  • blogs_blog_1841
  • blogs_blog_1842
  • blogs_blog_1843
  • blogs_blog_17
  • blogs_blog_18
  • blogs_blog_19
  • blogs_blog_20
  • blogs_blog_21
  • blogs_blog_22
  • blogs_blog_23
  • blogs_blog_529
  • Akano's Blog
  • blogs_blog_25
  • blogs_blog_26
  • blogs_blog_27
  • blogs_blog_28
  • blogs_blog_29
  • Wind's Weblog
  • blogs_blog_553
  • blogs_blog_31
  • blogs_blog_503
  • blogs_blog_32
  • blogs_blog_621
  • blogs_blog_33
  • blogs_blog_34
  • blogs_blog_35
  • blogs_blog_36
  • blogs_blog_37
  • blogs_blog_38
  • blogs_blog_1590
  • blogs_blog_568
  • blogs_blog_39
  • blogs_blog_40
  • blogs_blog_41
  • blogs_blog_42
  • blogs_blog_43
  • blogs_blog_44
  • Star Blogging across the universe
  • blogs_blog_46
  • blogs_blog_47
  • blogs_blog_48
  • blogs_blog_49
  • blogs_blog_576
  • blogs_blog_1407
  • blogs_blog_135
  • blogs_blog_50
  • blogs_blog_1019
  • Mount Coronet
  • blogs_blog_80
  • blogs_blog_51
  • blogs_blog_52
  • blogs_blog_53
  • blogs_blog_54
  • blogs_blog_55
  • blogs_blog_504
  • blogs_blog_515
  • blogs_blog_56
  • blogs_blog_626
  • blogs_blog_57
  • blogs_blog_138
  • blogs_blog_58
  • blogs_blog_59
  • blogs_blog_60
  • why is this blog so wide
  • blogs_blog_62
  • blogs_blog_72
  • J.A.F. Team
  • blogs_blog_64
  • blogs_blog_65
  • blogs_blog_66
  • Bloghaku
  • blogs_blog_68
  • blogs_blog_69
  • blogs_blog_70
  • blogs_blog_71
  • blogs_blog_73
  • blogs_blog_876
  • blogs_blog_74
  • blogs_blog_75
  • blogs_blog_76
  • blogs_blog_518
  • blogs_blog_84
  • blogs_blog_78
  • blogs_blog_79
  • blogs_blog_81
  • blogs_blog_82
  • blogs_blog_83
  • blogs_blog_85
  • blogs_blog_86
  • blogs_blog_1397
  • blogs_blog_96
  • blogs_blog_499
  • blogs_blog_87
  • blogs_blog_88
  • blogs_blog_89
  • blogs_blog_91
  • blogs_blog_92
  • blogs_blog_578
  • blogs_blog_579
  • blogs_blog_93
  • blogs_blog_94
  • blogs_blog_95
  • blogs_blog_97
  • blogs_blog_497
  • blogs_blog_98
  • blogs_blog_113
  • blogs_blog_99
  • blogs_blog_103
  • blogs_blog_100
  • blogs_blog_101
  • blogs_blog_102
  • blogs_blog_104
  • blogs_blog_105
  • blogs_blog_106
  • blogs_blog_107
  • blogs_blog_108
  • blogs_blog_109
  • blogs_blog_545
  • blogs_blog_110
  • blogs_blog_111
  • blogs_blog_112
  • blogs_blog_115
  • blogs_blog_114
  • blogs_blog_116
  • blogs_blog_117
  • blogs_blog_118
  • blogs_blog_119
  • blogs_blog_120
  • blogs_blog_121
  • blogs_blog_122
  • blogs_blog_123
  • blogs_blog_124
  • blogs_blog_125
  • blogs_blog_126
  • blogs_blog_127
  • blogs_blog_128
  • Blogs Blags Blogs 42
  • blogs_blog_1604
  • blogs_blog_130
  • blogs_blog_131
  • blogs_blog_597
  • blogs_blog_620
  • blogs_blog_132
  • blogs_blog_1445
  • blogs_blog_133
  • blogs_blog_134
  • blogs_blog_136
  • blogs_blog_137
  • blogs_blog_139
  • blogs_blog_140
  • blogs_blog_141
  • blogs_blog_142
  • blogs_blog_143
  • blogs_blog_144
  • blogs_blog_145
  • blogs_blog_146
  • blogs_blog_147
  • blogs_blog_153
  • blogs_blog_148
  • blogs_blog_149
  • blogs_blog_150
  • blogs_blog_617
  • blogs_blog_151
  • blogs_blog_152
  • blogs_blog_154
  • blogs_blog_612
  • blogs_blog_155
  • blogs_blog_156
  • blogs_blog_157
  • blogs_blog_233
  • blogs_blog_158
  • blogs_blog_1585
  • blogs_blog_272
  • blogs_blog_159
  • blogs_blog_160
  • blogs_blog_161
  • blogs_blog_162
  • blogs_blog_163
  • blogs_blog_164
  • blogs_blog_165
  • blogs_blog_166
  • blogs_blog_167
  • blogs_blog_168
  • blogs_blog_169
  • blogs_blog_170
  • blogs_blog_171
  • blogs_blog_172
  • blogs_blog_173
  • blogs_blog_174
  • blogs_blog_175
  • blogs_blog_176
  • blogs_blog_177
  • blogs_blog_178
  • blogs_blog_179
  • blogs_blog_180
  • blogs_blog_181
  • blogs_blog_182
  • blogs_blog_183
  • blogs_blog_184
  • blogs_blog_185
  • blogs_blog_186
  • blogs_blog_1794
  • blogs_blog_188
  • blogs_blog_189
  • blogs_blog_190
  • blogs_blog_389
  • blogs_blog_191
  • blogs_blog_192
  • blogs_blog_193
  • blogs_blog_194
  • blogs_blog_195
  • blogs_blog_196
  • blogs_blog_197
  • blogs_blog_198
  • blogs_blog_199
  • blogs_blog_200
  • blogs_blog_201
  • blogs_blog_202
  • blogs_blog_203
  • blogs_blog_204
  • blogs_blog_205
  • blogs_blog_206
  • blogs_blog_207
  • blogs_blog_208
  • blogs_blog_209
  • blogs_blog_210
  • blogs_blog_211
  • blogs_blog_212
  • blogs_blog_213
  • blogs_blog_214
  • blogs_blog_215
  • blogs_blog_216
  • blogs_blog_217
  • blogs_blog_218
  • blogs_blog_219
  • blogs_blog_220
  • blogs_blog_221
  • blogs_blog_222
  • The Minimalist
  • blogs_blog_1605
  • blogs_blog_224
  • blogs_blog_225
  • blogs_blog_226
  • blogs_blog_227
  • blogs_blog_228
  • blogs_blog_229
  • blogs_blog_230
  • blogs_blog_231
  • blogs_blog_232
  • blogs_blog_234
  • blogs_blog_235
  • blogs_blog_236
  • blogs_blog_237
  • blogs_blog_238
  • blogs_blog_239
  • blogs_blog_240
  • blogs_blog_241
  • blogs_blog_242
  • blogs_blog_243
  • blogs_blog_244
  • blogs_blog_245
  • blogs_blog_246
  • blogs_blog_247
  • blogs_blog_248
  • blogs_blog_249
  • Tales of Arizona Blue
  • blogs_blog_251
  • blogs_blog_252
  • blogs_blog_253
  • blogs_blog_254
  • blogs_blog_255
  • blogs_blog_256
  • blogs_blog_257
  • blogs_blog_258
  • blogs_blog_259
  • blogs_blog_260
  • blogs_blog_261
  • blogs_blog_262
  • Blog. BLOG! BLOOOOOOG!!!!!!!!!!!!
  • blogs_blog_264
  • blogs_blog_265
  • blogs_blog_266
  • blogs_blog_267
  • blogs_blog_268
  • blogs_blog_269
  • blogs_blog_270
  • blogs_blog_271
  • blogs_blog_273
  • blogs_blog_274
  • blogs_blog_878
  • blogs_blog_275
  • blogs_blog_276
  • blogs_blog_277
  • blogs_blog_278
  • blogs_blog_279
  • blogs_blog_280
  • blogs_blog_281
  • blogs_blog_282
  • blogs_blog_283
  • blogs_blog_284
  • blogs_blog_285
  • blogs_blog_286
  • blogs_blog_287
  • blogs_blog_288
  • blogs_blog_637
  • blogs_blog_289
  • blogs_blog_290
  • blogs_blog_291
  • blogs_blog_292
  • blogs_blog_293
  • blogs_blog_325
  • blogs_blog_1844
  • blogs_blog_1464
  • blogs_blog_294
  • blogs_blog_295
  • blogs_blog_296
  • blogs_blog_297
  • blogs_blog_298
  • blogs_blog_299
  • blogs_blog_300
  • blogs_blog_1501
  • blogs_blog_317
  • blogs_blog_302
  • blogs_blog_303
  • blogs_blog_304
  • blogs_blog_305
  • blogs_blog_306
  • blogs_blog_307
  • The Serpent's Den
  • blogs_blog_853
  • blogs_blog_309
  • blogs_blog_310
  • blogs_blog_311
  • blogs_blog_986
  • blogs_blog_611
  • blogs_blog_562
  • blogs_blog_312
  • blogs_blog_313
  • blogs_blog_314
  • blogs_blog_315
  • blogs_blog_319
  • blogs_blog_316
  • blogs_blog_318
  • blogs_blog_320
  • blogs_blog_321
  • blogs_blog_322
  • blogs_blog_323
  • blogs_blog_358
  • blogs_blog_324
  • blogs_blog_326
  • blogs_blog_327
  • blogs_blog_328
  • blogs_blog_329
  • blogs_blog_330
  • blogs_blog_331
  • blogs_blog_332
  • blogs_blog_333
  • blogs_blog_334
  • blogs_blog_335
  • blogs_blog_336
  • blogs_blog_337
  • blogs_blog_613
  • blogs_blog_338
  • blogs_blog_339
  • blogs_blog_340
  • blogs_blog_533
  • blogs_blog_341
  • blogs_blog_342
  • blogs_blog_343
  • blogs_blog_344
  • blogs_blog_345
  • blogs_blog_346
  • blogs_blog_347
  • blogs_blog_348
  • blogs_blog_349
  • blogs_blog_352
  • blogs_blog_351
  • blogs_blog_353
  • blogs_blog_354
  • blogs_blog_355
  • blogs_blog_356
  • blogs_blog_357
  • blogs_blog_359
  • blogs_blog_360
  • Kathisma Library
  • blogs_blog_362
  • blogs_blog_1436
  • blogs_blog_363
  • blogs_blog_364
  • blogs_blog_365
  • blogs_blog_366
  • blogs_blog_367
  • blogs_blog_368
  • blogs_blog_369
  • blogs_blog_370
  • blogs_blog_371
  • blogs_blog_372
  • blogs_blog_373
  • blogs_blog_374
  • blogs_blog_375
  • blogs_blog_376
  • blogs_blog_377
  • blogs_blog_378
  • blogs_blog_379
  • blogs_blog_380
  • blogs_blog_381
  • blogs_blog_382
  • blogs_blog_384
  • blogs_blog_385
  • blogs_blog_386
  • blogs_blog_387
  • blogs_blog_388
  • blogs_blog_390
  • blogs_blog_391
  • blogs_blog_651
  • blogs_blog_392
  • blogs_blog_393
  • blogs_blog_394
  • blogs_blog_395
  • blogs_blog_396
  • blogs_blog_397
  • blogs_blog_398
  • blogs_blog_399
  • blogs_blog_400
  • blogs_blog_401
  • blogs_blog_402
  • blogs_blog_403
  • blogs_blog_412
  • blogs_blog_404
  • blogs_blog_405
  • blogs_blog_406
  • blogs_blog_407
  • blogs_blog_408
  • blogs_blog_950
  • blogs_blog_409
  • blogs_blog_410
  • blogs_blog_411
  • blogs_blog_413
  • blogs_blog_414
  • blogs_blog_415
  • blogs_blog_416
  • blogs_blog_417
  • blogs_blog_418
  • blogs_blog_419
  • blogs_blog_420
  • blogs_blog_421
  • blogs_blog_422
  • blogs_blog_423
  • blogs_blog_424
  • blogs_blog_425
  • blogs_blog_426
  • blogs_blog_427
  • blogs_blog_428
  • blogs_blog_429
  • blogs_blog_662
  • blogs_blog_430
  • blogs_blog_431
  • blogs_blog_432
  • blogs_blog_433
  • blogs_blog_434
  • blogs_blog_472
  • blogs_blog_435
  • blogs_blog_436
  • blogs_blog_437
  • blogs_blog_438
  • blogs_blog_439
  • blogs_blog_440
  • Disty's old surgery
  • blogs_blog_442
  • blogs_blog_443
  • blogs_blog_565
  • blogs_blog_556
  • Moon in the Water
  • blogs_blog_629
  • blogs_blog_444
  • blogs_blog_445
  • blogs_blog_446
  • blogs_blog_447
  • V1P2's Blog
  • blogs_blog_449
  • blogs_blog_450
  • blogs_blog_451
  • blogs_blog_452
  • blogs_blog_453
  • blogs_blog_580
  • blogs_blog_454
  • blogs_blog_455
  • blogs_blog_456
  • blogs_blog_457
  • blogs_blog_458
  • blogs_blog_459
  • blogs_blog_460
  • blogs_blog_461
  • blogs_blog_462
  • blogs_blog_463
  • blogs_blog_464
  • blogs_blog_465
  • blogs_blog_466
  • blogs_blog_467
  • blogs_blog_468
  • blogs_blog_469
  • blogs_blog_470
  • blogs_blog_471
  • blogs_blog_473
  • blogs_blog_474
  • blogs_blog_475
  • blogs_blog_476
  • blogs_blog_477
  • blogs_blog_478
  • blogs_blog_479
  • blogs_blog_480
  • blogs_blog_1105
  • blogs_blog_1013
  • blogs_blog_481
  • blogs_blog_482
  • blogs_blog_483
  • blogs_blog_484
  • blogs_blog_486
  • blogs_blog_485
  • blogs_blog_487
  • blogs_blog_488
  • blogs_blog_489
  • blogs_blog_490
  • blogs_blog_491
  • blogs_blog_1032
  • blogs_blog_492
  • blogs_blog_493
  • blogs_blog_494
  • blogs_blog_495
  • blogs_blog_496
  • blogs_blog_498
  • blogs_blog_501
  • blogs_blog_500
  • I'm Me
  • blogs_blog_1888
  • blogs_blog_505
  • blogs_blog_506
  • blogs_blog_507
  • blogs_blog_508
  • blogs_blog_509
  • blogs_blog_510
  • blogs_blog_514
  • blogs_blog_511
  • blogs_blog_512
  • blogs_blog_513
  • blogs_blog_516
  • blogs_blog_517
  • blogs_blog_558
  • blogs_blog_520
  • blogs_blog_522
  • blogs_blog_521
  • blogs_blog_523
  • blogs_blog_524
  • blogs_blog_525
  • blogs_blog_526
  • garbage water alien chill sesh
  • blogs_blog_528
  • Blogarithm
  • blogs_blog_531
  • blogs_blog_532
  • blogs_blog_606
  • The Blog Below
  • blogs_blog_535
  • blogs_blog_536
  • blogs_blog_537
  • blogs_blog_538
  • blogs_blog_539
  • blogs_blog_540
  • blogs_blog_541
  • blogs_blog_559
  • blogs_blog_542
  • blogs_blog_543
  • blogs_blog_544
  • blogs_blog_546
  • blogs_blog_547
  • blogs_blog_548
  • blogs_blog_552
  • blogs_blog_549
  • blogs_blog_551
  • blogs_blog_550
  • blogs_blog_554
  • blogs_blog_555
  • blogs_blog_560
  • blogs_blog_561
  • blogs_blog_563
  • blogs_blog_564
  • blogs_blog_566
  • blogs_blog_567
  • blogs_blog_569
  • blogs_blog_570
  • blogs_blog_571
  • blogs_blog_572
  • blogs_blog_573
  • blogs_blog_574
  • blogs_blog_575
  • blogs_blog_577
  • SeiclonatorZ (the blog about nothing)
  • blogs_blog_581
  • blogs_blog_1036
  • blogs_blog_1023
  • blogs_blog_582
  • blogs_blog_583
  • blogs_blog_590
  • blogs_blog_584
  • blogs_blog_585
  • blogs_blog_586
  • blogs_blog_587
  • blogs_blog_588
  • the transgender adventure
  • blogs_blog_592
  • blogs_blog_593
  • blogs_blog_596
  • blogs_blog_862
  • blogs_blog_594
  • blogs_blog_595
  • blogs_blog_598
  • blogs_blog_603
  • blogs_blog_599
  • blogs_blog_600
  • blogs_blog_601
  • blogs_blog_602
  • blogs_blog_875
  • blogs_blog_604
  • blogs_blog_605
  • blogs_blog_607
  • blogs_blog_608
  • blogs_blog_609
  • blogs_blog_610
  • blogs_blog_614
  • blogs_blog_615
  • blogs_blog_616
  • blogs_blog_630
  • blogs_blog_618
  • blogs_blog_619
  • blogs_blog_622
  • blogs_blog_623
  • blogs_blog_624
  • blogs_blog_1435
  • blogs_blog_1058
  • blogs_blog_625
  • blogs_blog_627
  • blogs_blog_1793
  • blogs_blog_631
  • blogs_blog_632
  • blogs_blog_635
  • blogs_blog_636
  • blogs_blog_638
  • The Observatory
  • blogs_blog_1391
  • blogs_blog_640
  • blogs_blog_641
  • The Phylog 3.0
  • blogs_blog_643
  • blogs_blog_644
  • blogs_blog_645
  • blogs_blog_646
  • blogs_blog_647
  • blogs_blog_648
  • blogs_blog_649
  • blogs_blog_650
  • blogs_blog_652
  • blogs_blog_653
  • blogs_blog_654
  • blogs_blog_655
  • blogs_blog_1207
  • blogs_blog_656
  • blogs_blog_657
  • blogs_blog_658
  • blogs_blog_659
  • blogs_blog_660
  • blogs_blog_661
  • blogs_blog_663
  • blogs_blog_664
  • blogs_blog_665
  • blogs_blog_666
  • blogs_blog_667
  • blogs_blog_668
  • blogs_blog_669
  • blogs_blog_670
  • blogs_blog_671
  • blogs_blog_672
  • blogs_blog_673
  • blogs_blog_674
  • blogs_blog_675
  • blogs_blog_676
  • blogs_blog_677
  • blogs_blog_678
  • blogs_blog_679
  • blogs_blog_680
  • blogs_blog_681
  • blogs_blog_682
  • blogs_blog_683
  • blogs_blog_684
  • blogs_blog_685
  • blogs_blog_700
  • blogs_blog_686
  • blogs_blog_687
  • blogs_blog_688
  • blogs_blog_689
  • blogs_blog_690
  • blogs_blog_691
  • blogs_blog_692
  • blogs_blog_693
  • blogs_blog_694
  • blogs_blog_695
  • blogs_blog_696
  • blogs_blog_697
  • blogs_blog_698
  • blogs_blog_699
  • blogs_blog_701
  • blogs_blog_702
  • blogs_blog_703
  • blogs_blog_704
  • blogs_blog_705
  • blogs_blog_706
  • blogs_blog_707
  • blogs_blog_708
  • blogs_blog_709
  • blogs_blog_710
  • blogs_blog_711
  • blogs_blog_712
  • blogs_blog_713
  • blogs_blog_714
  • blogs_blog_715
  • blogs_blog_716
  • blogs_blog_717
  • blogs_blog_718
  • blogs_blog_719
  • blogs_blog_720
  • blogs_blog_721
  • blogs_blog_734
  • blogs_blog_722
  • blogs_blog_723
  • blogs_blog_724
  • blogs_blog_725
  • blogs_blog_726
  • blogs_blog_727
  • blogs_blog_728
  • blogs_blog_729
  • blogs_blog_730
  • blogs_blog_731
  • in a hole in the ground, there lived a blog
  • blogs_blog_733
  • blogs_blog_735
  • blogs_blog_736
  • blogs_blog_737
  • blogs_blog_738
  • blogs_blog_739
  • blogs_blog_740
  • blogs_blog_741
  • blogs_blog_742
  • blogs_blog_743
  • blogs_blog_744
  • blogs_blog_745
  • blogs_blog_746
  • blogs_blog_747
  • blogs_blog_748
  • blogs_blog_749
  • blogs_blog_1182
  • blogs_blog_750
  • blogs_blog_751
  • blogs_blog_752
  • blogs_blog_753
  • blogs_blog_754
  • blogs_blog_755
  • blogs_blog_756
  • blogs_blog_757
  • blogs_blog_758
  • blogs_blog_759
  • blogs_blog_760
  • blogs_blog_761
  • blogs_blog_762
  • blogs_blog_763
  • blogs_blog_764
  • blogs_blog_1532
  • blogs_blog_765
  • blogs_blog_766
  • blogs_blog_767
  • blogs_blog_768
  • blogs_blog_841
  • blogs_blog_769
  • blogs_blog_770
  • blogs_blog_771
  • blogs_blog_772
  • blogs_blog_773
  • blogs_blog_774
  • blogs_blog_775
  • blogs_blog_921
  • blogs_blog_776
  • blogs_blog_777
  • blogs_blog_778
  • blogs_blog_779
  • blogs_blog_780
  • blogs_blog_781
  • blogs_blog_782
  • blogs_blog_1592
  • blogs_blog_1284
  • blogs_blog_783
  • blogs_blog_784
  • blogs_blog_785
  • blogs_blog_786
  • blogs_blog_787
  • blogs_blog_1485
  • blogs_blog_788
  • blogs_blog_789
  • blogs_blog_790
  • blogs_blog_791
  • blogs_blog_792
  • blogs_blog_793
  • blogs_blog_794
  • blogs_blog_795
  • blogs_blog_796
  • blogs_blog_797
  • blogs_blog_798
  • blogs_blog_799
  • blogs_blog_800
  • blogs_blog_1682
  • blogs_blog_801
  • blogs_blog_802
  • blogs_blog_803
  • blogs_blog_804
  • blogs_blog_805
  • blogs_blog_806
  • blogs_blog_807
  • blogs_blog_808
  • blogs_blog_809
  • blogs_blog_810
  • blogs_blog_811
  • blogs_blog_812
  • blogs_blog_813
  • blogs_blog_814
  • blogs_blog_815
  • blogs_blog_816
  • blogs_blog_817
  • blogs_blog_851
  • blogs_blog_818
  • blogs_blog_819
  • blogs_blog_820
  • blogs_blog_821
  • blogs_blog_822
  • blogs_blog_823
  • blogs_blog_824
  • blogs_blog_825
  • blogs_blog_826
  • blogs_blog_827
  • blogs_blog_828
  • blogs_blog_829
  • blogs_blog_830
  • blogs_blog_831
  • blogs_blog_832
  • blogs_blog_833
  • blogs_blog_834
  • blogs_blog_835
  • blogs_blog_836
  • blogs_blog_837
  • blogs_blog_838
  • blogs_blog_839
  • blogs_blog_840
  • blogs_blog_842
  • blogs_blog_843
  • blogs_blog_844
  • blogs_blog_845
  • blogs_blog_1559
  • blogs_blog_846
  • blogs_blog_847
  • blogs_blog_848
  • blogs_blog_849
  • blogs_blog_850
  • blogs_blog_852
  • blogs_blog_863
  • blogs_blog_854
  • blogs_blog_855
  • blogs_blog_856
  • blogs_blog_857
  • blogs_blog_1713
  • blogs_blog_858
  • blogs_blog_859
  • blogs_blog_860
  • blogs_blog_861
  • blogs_blog_864
  • blogs_blog_865
  • blogs_blog_866
  • blogs_blog_867
  • blogs_blog_868
  • blogs_blog_869
  • blogs_blog_870
  • blogs_blog_886
  • blogs_blog_871
  • blogs_blog_1408
  • blogs_blog_874
  • blogs_blog_872
  • blogs_blog_873
  • blogs_blog_877
  • blogs_blog_879
  • blogs_blog_880
  • blogs_blog_881
  • blogs_blog_882
  • blogs_blog_883
  • blogs_blog_884
  • blogs_blog_885
  • blogs_blog_887
  • blogs_blog_888
  • blogs_blog_889
  • blogs_blog_890
  • blogs_blog_891
  • blogs_blog_892
  • blogs_blog_893
  • blogs_blog_894
  • blogs_blog_895
  • blogs_blog_896
  • blogs_blog_897
  • blogs_blog_898
  • blogs_blog_899
  • blogs_blog_900
  • blogs_blog_901
  • blogs_blog_902
  • blogs_blog_903
  • blogs_blog_904
  • blogs_blog_905
  • blogs_blog_906
  • blogs_blog_907
  • blogs_blog_908
  • blogs_blog_909
  • blogs_blog_910
  • blogs_blog_911
  • blogs_blog_912
  • blogs_blog_913
  • blogs_blog_914
  • blogs_blog_915
  • blogs_blog_916
  • blogs_blog_917
  • blogs_blog_918
  • blogs_blog_919
  • blogs_blog_920
  • blogs_blog_922
  • blogs_blog_923
  • blogs_blog_924
  • blogs_blog_925
  • blogs_blog_926
  • blogs_blog_927
  • blogs_blog_928
  • blogs_blog_929
  • blogs_blog_930
  • blogs_blog_931
  • blogs_blog_932
  • blogs_blog_933
  • blogs_blog_934
  • blogs_blog_935
  • blogs_blog_936
  • blogs_blog_937
  • blogs_blog_938
  • blogs_blog_939
  • blogs_blog_940
  • blogs_blog_941
  • blogs_blog_942
  • blogs_blog_943
  • blogs_blog_944
  • blogs_blog_945
  • blogs_blog_946
  • blogs_blog_947
  • blogs_blog_948
  • blogs_blog_949
  • blogs_blog_966
  • blogs_blog_951
  • blogs_blog_952
  • blogs_blog_953
  • blogs_blog_954
  • blogs_blog_955
  • blogs_blog_956
  • blogs_blog_957
  • blogs_blog_958
  • blogs_blog_959
  • blogs_blog_960
  • blogs_blog_961
  • blogs_blog_962
  • blogs_blog_963
  • blogs_blog_964
  • blogs_blog_965
  • blogs_blog_967
  • blogs_blog_968
  • blogs_blog_969
  • blogs_blog_970
  • blogs_blog_971
  • blogs_blog_972
  • blogs_blog_973
  • blogs_blog_974
  • blogs_blog_975
  • blogs_blog_976
  • blogs_blog_977
  • blogs_blog_978
  • blogs_blog_979
  • blogs_blog_980
  • blogs_blog_981
  • blogs_blog_982
  • blogs_blog_983
  • blogs_blog_984
  • blogs_blog_985
  • blogs_blog_987
  • blogs_blog_988
  • blogs_blog_989
  • blogs_blog_990
  • blogs_blog_991
  • blogs_blog_992
  • blogs_blog_993
  • blogs_blog_994
  • blogs_blog_995
  • blogs_blog_996
  • Dr. Gerlicky's Miracle Diet
  • blogs_blog_998
  • blogs_blog_999
  • blogs_blog_1000
  • blogs_blog_1001
  • blogs_blog_1002
  • blogs_blog_1003
  • blogs_blog_1004
  • blogs_blog_1005
  • blogs_blog_1560
  • blogs_blog_1006
  • blogs_blog_1007
  • blogs_blog_1008
  • blogs_blog_1009
  • blogs_blog_1010
  • blogs_blog_1011
  • blogs_blog_1012
  • blogs_blog_1016
  • blogs_blog_1014
  • blogs_blog_1015
  • blogs_blog_1022
  • blogs_blog_1017
  • blogs_blog_1390
  • blogs_blog_1020
  • blogs_blog_1018
  • blogs_blog_1021
  • blogs_blog_1024
  • blogs_blog_1025
  • blogs_blog_1026
  • blogs_blog_1027
  • blogs_blog_1028
  • blogs_blog_1029
  • blogs_blog_1030
  • blogs_blog_1031
  • blogs_blog_1033
  • blogs_blog_1034
  • blogs_blog_1035
  • blogs_blog_1039
  • blogs_blog_1037
  • blogs_blog_1038
  • blogs_blog_1040
  • blogs_blog_1041
  • blogs_blog_1042
  • blogs_blog_1043
  • blogs_blog_1044
  • blogs_blog_1045
  • blogs_blog_1418
  • blogs_blog_1046
  • You're attacked by a Repair Nektann
  • blogs_blog_1048
  • blogs_blog_1845
  • blogs_blog_1846
  • blogs_blog_1050
  • blogs_blog_1051
  • blogs_blog_1052
  • blogs_blog_1053
  • blogs_blog_1054
  • blogs_blog_1055
  • blogs_blog_1056
  • blogs_blog_1057
  • blogs_blog_1059
  • blogs_blog_1060
  • blogs_blog_1061
  • blogs_blog_1063
  • blogs_blog_1062
  • blogs_blog_1064
  • blogs_blog_1065
  • blogs_blog_1066
  • The Fikou Web
  • blogs_blog_1068
  • blogs_blog_1069
  • blogs_blog_1099
  • blogs_blog_1070
  • blogs_blog_1071
  • blogs_blog_1072
  • blogs_blog_1075
  • blogs_blog_1073
  • blogs_blog_1074
  • blogs_blog_1079
  • blogs_blog_1089
  • blogs_blog_1078
  • blogs_blog_1076
  • blogs_blog_1077
  • blogs_blog_1080
  • blogs_blog_1081
  • blogs_blog_1084
  • blogs_blog_1082
  • blogs_blog_1083
  • blogs_blog_1085
  • blogs_blog_1086
  • blogs_blog_1087
  • blogs_blog_1088
  • blogs_blog_1090
  • blogs_blog_1091
  • blogs_blog_1686
  • blogs_blog_1681
  • blogs_blog_1092
  • blogs_blog_1356
  • blogs_blog_1093
  • blogs_blog_1094
  • blogs_blog_1362
  • Icecrown Citadel
  • blogs_blog_1096
  • Obligatory Volcano Lair
  • blogs_blog_1098
  • blogs_blog_1100
  • blogs_blog_1298
  • blogs_blog_1101
  • blogs_blog_1102
  • blogs_blog_1103
  • blogs_blog_1104
  • blogs_blog_1106
  • blogs_blog_1107
  • blogs_blog_1108
  • blogs_blog_1109
  • blogs_blog_1110
  • blogs_blog_1111
  • blogs_blog_1112
  • blogs_blog_1113
  • blogs_blog_1114
  • blogs_blog_1115
  • blogs_blog_1116
  • blogs_blog_1117
  • blogs_blog_1118
  • blogs_blog_1119
  • blogs_blog_1120
  • blogs_blog_1121
  • blogs_blog_1122
  • blogs_blog_1123
  • blogs_blog_1124
  • blogs_blog_1125
  • blogs_blog_1126
  • blogs_blog_1127
  • blogs_blog_1128
  • blogs_blog_1129
  • blogs_blog_1130
  • blogs_blog_1132
  • blogs_blog_1131
  • blogs_blog_1133
  • blogs_blog_1134
  • blogs_blog_1135
  • blogs_blog_1136
  • blogs_blog_1137
  • blogs_blog_1138
  • blogs_blog_1139
  • blogs_blog_1140
  • blogs_blog_1388
  • blogs_blog_1695
  • blogs_blog_1141
  • blogs_blog_1142
  • blogs_blog_1143
  • blogs_blog_1144
  • blogs_blog_1145
  • blogs_blog_1146
  • Zahaki's Lair
  • blogs_blog_1148
  • blogs_blog_1149
  • blogs_blog_1150
  • blogs_blog_1151
  • blogs_blog_1152
  • blogs_blog_1212
  • blogs_blog_1153
  • blogs_blog_1154
  • blogs_blog_1155
  • blogs_blog_1156
  • blogs_blog_1642
  • blogs_blog_1285
  • blogs_blog_1157
  • blogs_blog_1158
  • blogs_blog_1194
  • blogs_blog_1159
  • blogs_blog_1160
  • blogs_blog_1161
  • blogs_blog_1162
  • blogs_blog_1163
  • blogs_blog_1164
  • oh god blog titles
  • blogs_blog_1165
  • blogs_blog_1166
  • blogs_blog_1167
  • blogs_blog_1168
  • blogs_blog_1169
  • blogs_blog_1170
  • blogs_blog_1171
  • blogs_blog_1172
  • blogs_blog_1174
  • blogs_blog_1175
  • blogs_blog_1176
  • blogs_blog_1177
  • blogs_blog_1178
  • blogs_blog_1179
  • blogs_blog_1180
  • Marvin's Marvelous Mechanical Museum
  • blogs_blog_1183
  • blogs_blog_1184
  • blogs_blog_1185
  • blogs_blog_1186
  • blogs_blog_1187
  • blogs_blog_1188
  • blogs_blog_1189
  • blogs_blog_1190
  • blogs_blog_1191
  • blogs_blog_1192
  • blogs_blog_1193
  • blogs_blog_1195
  • blogs_blog_1196
  • blogs_blog_1197
  • blogs_blog_1198
  • blogs_blog_1199
  • blogs_blog_1200
  • blogs_blog_1201
  • blogs_blog_1202
  • blogs_blog_1203
  • blogs_blog_1317
  • blogs_blog_1204
  • blogs_blog_1205
  • blogs_blog_1206
  • Keratu's Blog
  • blogs_blog_1209
  • blogs_blog_1210
  • blogs_blog_1211
  • blogs_blog_1213
  • blogs_blog_1214
  • blogs_blog_1215
  • blogs_blog_1216
  • blogs_blog_1217
  • blogs_blog_1218
  • blogs_blog_1219
  • blogs_blog_1220
  • blogs_blog_1221
  • blogs_blog_1222
  • blogs_blog_1223
  • blogs_blog_1224
  • blogs_blog_1225
  • blogs_blog_1226
  • blogs_blog_1227
  • blogs_blog_1228
  • blogs_blog_1229
  • blogs_blog_1230
  • blogs_blog_1231
  • blogs_blog_1232
  • blogs_blog_1345
  • blogs_blog_1307
  • blogs_blog_1233
  • blogs_blog_1234
  • blogs_blog_1238
  • blogs_blog_1235
  • blogs_blog_1236
  • blogs_blog_1237
  • blogs_blog_1474
  • blogs_blog_1239
  • blogs_blog_1240
  • blogs_blog_1305
  • blogs_blog_1241
  • blogs_blog_1242
  • blogs_blog_1364
  • blogs_blog_1243
  • blogs_blog_1244
  • blogs_blog_1245
  • blogs_blog_1246
  • blogs_blog_1247
  • blogs_blog_1250
  • blogs_blog_1248
  • blogs_blog_1249
  • blogs_blog_1254
  • blogs_blog_1251
  • blogs_blog_1252
  • blogs_blog_1253
  • blogs_blog_1255
  • blogs_blog_1256
  • blogs_blog_1257
  • blogs_blog_1258
  • blogs_blog_1259
  • blogs_blog_1613
  • blogs_blog_1260
  • blogs_blog_1300
  • blogs_blog_1261
  • blogs_blog_1262
  • blogs_blog_1263
  • blogs_blog_1264
  • blogs_blog_1265
  • blogs_blog_1266
  • blogs_blog_1267
  • blogs_blog_1268
  • blogs_blog_1269
  • blogs_blog_1270
  • blogs_blog_1271
  • blogs_blog_1272
  • blogs_blog_1273
  • blogs_blog_1274
  • blogs_blog_1275
  • blogs_blog_1276
  • blogs_blog_1351
  • blogs_blog_1277
  • blogs_blog_1278
  • blogs_blog_1279
  • blogs_blog_1280
  • blogs_blog_1281
  • blogs_blog_1282
  • blogs_blog_1283
  • blogs_blog_1308
  • blogs_blog_1286
  • ArtBLOGed
  • blogs_blog_1288
  • blogs_blog_1289
  • blogs_blog_1290
  • blogs_blog_1291
  • blogs_blog_1297
  • blogs_blog_1292
  • blogs_blog_1293
  • blogs_blog_1294
  • blogs_blog_1368
  • blogs_blog_1295
  • blogs_blog_1628
  • blogs_blog_1296
  • blogs_blog_1299
  • blogs_blog_1301
  • blogs_blog_1302
  • blogs_blog_1303
  • blogs_blog_1304
  • blogs_blog_1306
  • blogs_blog_1309
  • blogs_blog_1310
  • blogs_blog_1311
  • blogs_blog_1312
  • blogs_blog_1422
  • blogs_blog_1313
  • blogs_blog_1314
  • blogs_blog_1315
  • blogs_blog_1316
  • blogs_blog_1318
  • blogs_blog_1319
  • blogs_blog_1320
  • blogs_blog_1321
  • blogs_blog_1322
  • blogs_blog_1323
  • blogs_blog_1324
  • blogs_blog_1325
  • blogs_blog_1326
  • blogs_blog_1327
  • blogs_blog_1328
  • blogs_blog_1329
  • blogs_blog_1330
  • blogs_blog_1331
  • blogs_blog_1384
  • blogs_blog_1332
  • blogs_blog_1333
  • blogs_blog_1334
  • blogs_blog_1335
  • blogs_blog_1336
  • blogs_blog_1337
  • blogs_blog_1353
  • blogs_blog_1338
  • blogs_blog_1339
  • blogs_blog_1340
  • blogs_blog_1341
  • blogs_blog_1355
  • blogs_blog_1342
  • blogs_blog_1343
  • blogs_blog_1344
  • blogs_blog_1348
  • blogs_blog_1346
  • blogs_blog_1347
  • blogs_blog_1349
  • blogs_blog_1350
  • blogs_blog_1352
  • blogs_blog_1354
  • blogs_blog_1358
  • blogs_blog_1357
  • blogs_blog_1359
  • blogs_blog_1360
  • blogs_blog_1361
  • blogs_blog_1363
  • blogs_blog_1365
  • blogs_blog_1367
  • blogs_blog_1366
  • blogs_blog_1369
  • blogs_blog_1370
  • blogs_blog_1371
  • blogs_blog_1374
  • blogs_blog_1372
  • blogs_blog_1373
  • blogs_blog_1375
  • blogs_blog_1376
  • blogs_blog_1377
  • blogs_blog_1378
  • blogs_blog_1379
  • blogs_blog_1380
  • blogs_blog_1381
  • blogs_blog_1386
  • blogs_blog_1382
  • blogs_blog_1383
  • blogs_blog_1385
  • blogs_blog_1387
  • blogs_blog_1389
  • blogs_blog_1392
  • blogs_blog_1393
  • blogs_blog_1394
  • blogs_blog_1395
  • blogs_blog_1396
  • Koth Blog
  • blogs_blog_1399
  • blogs_blog_1400
  • blogs_blog_1404
  • blogs_blog_1401
  • blogs_blog_1402
  • blogs_blog_1403
  • blogs_blog_1405
  • blogs_blog_1406
  • blogs_blog_1413
  • blogs_blog_1409
  • blogs_blog_1410
  • blogs_blog_1411
  • blogs_blog_1412
  • blogs_blog_1414
  • blogs_blog_1415
  • blogs_blog_1416
  • blogs_blog_1417
  • blogs_blog_1419
  • blogs_blog_1420
  • The Lair 1421
  • blogs_blog_1423
  • blogs_blog_1424
  • blogs_blog_1425
  • blogs_blog_1428
  • blogs_blog_1426
  • blogs_blog_1427
  • blogs_blog_1429
  • blogs_blog_1430
  • blogs_blog_1442
  • Mishaps and Bubblewrap
  • blogs_blog_1432
  • blogs_blog_1433
  • blogs_blog_1434
  • blogs_blog_1437
  • blogs_blog_1438
  • blogs_blog_1510
  • blogs_blog_1439
  • blogs_blog_1440
  • blogs_blog_1905
  • blogs_blog_1718
  • blogs_blog_1441
  • blogs_blog_1443
  • blogs_blog_1446
  • blogs_blog_1447
  • blogs_blog_1448
  • blogs_blog_1449
  • blogs_blog_1450
  • blogs_blog_1451
  • blogs_blog_1452
  • blogs_blog_1453
  • blogs_blog_1454
  • blogs_blog_1455
  • blogs_blog_1456
  • blogs_blog_1457
  • blogs_blog_1458
  • blogs_blog_1459
  • blogs_blog_1460
  • blogs_blog_1461
  • blogs_blog_1462
  • blogs_blog_1463
  • blogs_blog_1612
  • blogs_blog_1465
  • blogs_blog_1466
  • blogs_blog_1467
  • blogs_blog_1468
  • blogs_blog_1619
  • blogs_blog_1469
  • blogs_blog_1470
  • blogs_blog_1471
  • blogs_blog_1472
  • blogs_blog_1473
  • blogs_blog_1475
  • blogs_blog_1476
  • blogs_blog_1477
  • blogs_blog_1478
  • blogs_blog_1479
  • blogs_blog_1480
  • blogs_blog_1481
  • blogs_blog_1482
  • blogs_blog_1483
  • blogs_blog_1484
  • blogs_blog_1486
  • blogs_blog_1487
  • blogs_blog_1488
  • blogs_blog_1489
  • blogs_blog_1490
  • blogs_blog_1491
  • blogs_blog_1492
  • blogs_blog_1493
  • blogs_blog_1496
  • blogs_blog_1494
  • The Blog which may or may not exist.
  • blogs_blog_1670
  • blogs_blog_1497
  • blogs_blog_1903
  • blogs_blog_1498
  • blogs_blog_1499
  • blogs_blog_1500
  • blogs_blog_1502
  • blogs_blog_1503
  • blogs_blog_1504
  • blogs_blog_1505
  • blogs_blog_1506
  • blogs_blog_1507
  • blogs_blog_1508
  • blogs_blog_1509
  • blogs_blog_1511
  • blogs_blog_1512
  • blogs_blog_1513
  • blogs_blog_1514
  • blogs_blog_1515
  • blogs_blog_1516
  • blogs_blog_1517
  • blogs_blog_1518
  • blogs_blog_1519
  • blogs_blog_1815
  • blogs_blog_1520
  • blogs_blog_1521
  • blogs_blog_1522
  • blogs_blog_1523
  • blogs_blog_1524
  • blogs_blog_1525
  • blogs_blog_1526
  • blogs_blog_1527
  • blogs_blog_1528
  • blogs_blog_1529
  • blogs_blog_1530
  • blogs_blog_1531
  • blogs_blog_1533
  • blogs_blog_1534
  • blogs_blog_1535
  • blogs_blog_1536
  • blogs_blog_1537
  • blogs_blog_1538
  • blogs_blog_1539
  • blogs_blog_1540
  • blogs_blog_1546
  • blogs_blog_1541
  • blogs_blog_1542
  • blogs_blog_1543
  • blogs_blog_1544
  • blogs_blog_1553
  • blogs_blog_1545
  • blogs_blog_1547
  • blogs_blog_1548
  • blogs_blog_1549
  • blogs_blog_1550
  • blogs_blog_1551
  • blogs_blog_1552
  • blogs_blog_1554
  • blogs_blog_1555
  • blogs_blog_1556
  • blogs_blog_1557
  • blogs_blog_1558
  • blogs_blog_1570
  • blogs_blog_1563
  • blogs_blog_1561
  • blogs_blog_1562
  • blogs_blog_1564
  • blogs_blog_1565
  • blogs_blog_1566
  • blogs_blog_1567
  • blogs_blog_1568
  • blogs_blog_1569
  • blogs_blog_1571
  • blogs_blog_1572
  • blogs_blog_1573
  • blogs_blog_1581
  • blogs_blog_1574
  • blogs_blog_1575
  • blogs_blog_1576
  • blogs_blog_1582
  • blogs_blog_1577
  • blogs_blog_1578
  • blogs_blog_1583
  • blogs_blog_1580
  • blogs_blog_1579
  • blogs_blog_1586
  • blogs_blog_1584
  • blogs_blog_1587
  • blogs_blog_1588
  • blogs_blog_1589
  • blogs_blog_1591
  • JMSOG's Strange Blog
  • blogs_blog_1596
  • blogs_blog_1594
  • blogs_blog_1595
  • blogs_blog_1864
  • blogs_blog_1597
  • blogs_blog_1598
  • blogs_blog_1599
  • Space
  • blogs_blog_1601
  • blogs_blog_1603
  • blogs_blog_1602
  • A Blog in Oblivion
  • blogs_blog_1606
  • blogs_blog_1607
  • blogs_blog_1634
  • blogs_blog_1608
  • blogs_blog_1708
  • blogs_blog_1609
  • blogs_blog_1610
  • blogs_blog_1611
  • blogs_blog_1614
  • blogs_blog_1881
  • blogs_blog_1615
  • blogs_blog_1662
  • blogs_blog_1616
  • blogs_blog_1617
  • blogs_blog_1618
  • blogs_blog_1620
  • blogs_blog_1621
  • blogs_blog_1622
  • blogs_blog_1623
  • blogs_blog_1624
  • blogs_blog_1625
  • blogs_blog_1626
  • blogs_blog_1627
  • blogs_blog_1630
  • blogs_blog_1631
  • blogs_blog_1632
  • blogs_blog_1633
  • blogs_blog_1635
  • blogs_blog_1636
  • blogs_blog_1637
  • blogs_blog_1638
  • blogs_blog_1639
  • blogs_blog_1640
  • blogs_blog_1641
  • Garreg Mach
  • blogs_blog_1904
  • blogs_blog_1643
  • blogs_blog_1645
  • blogs_blog_1646
  • blogs_blog_1651
  • blogs_blog_1647
  • blogs_blog_1648
  • blogs_blog_1649
  • Unspoken Words
  • blogs_blog_1907
  • blogs_blog_1871
  • blogs_blog_1652
  • blogs_blog_1653
  • blogs_blog_1654
  • blogs_blog_1655
  • blogs_blog_1656
  • blogs_blog_1657
  • blogs_blog_1658
  • blogs_blog_1659
  • blogs_blog_1660
  • blogs_blog_1667
  • blogs_blog_1661
  • blogs_blog_1663
  • blogs_blog_1664
  • blogs_blog_1665
  • blogs_blog_1668
  • blogs_blog_1666
  • blogs_blog_1669
  • blogs_blog_1671
  • blogs_blog_1672
  • blogs_blog_1673
  • blogs_blog_1674
  • blogs_blog_1675
  • blogs_blog_1676
  • blogs_blog_1677
  • blogs_blog_1678
  • blogs_blog_1679
  • blogs_blog_1680
  • blogs_blog_1683
  • blogs_blog_1684
  • blogs_blog_1685
  • blogs_blog_1687
  • blogs_blog_1688
  • blogs_blog_1689
  • blogs_blog_1690
  • blogs_blog_1691
  • blogs_blog_1692
  • Onaku's Blog Thingie
  • blogs_blog_1694
  • blogs_blog_1696
  • blogs_blog_1706
  • Between the Bookends
  • blogs_blog_1698
  • blogs_blog_1699
  • blogs_blog_1700
  • blogs_blog_1701
  • blogs_blog_1702
  • blogs_blog_1866
  • blogs_blog_1703
  • blogs_blog_1704
  • blogs_blog_1705
  • blogs_blog_1707
  • blogs_blog_1709
  • blogs_blog_1710
  • blogs_blog_1711
  • blogs_blog_1712
  • blogs_blog_1714
  • blogs_blog_1715
  • blogs_blog_1716
  • blogs_blog_1717
  • blogs_blog_1720
  • blogs_blog_1719
  • blogs_blog_1721
  • blogs_blog_1722
  • blogs_blog_1725
  • blogs_blog_1726
  • blogs_blog_1727
  • blogs_blog_1728
  • blogs_blog_1729
  • blogs_blog_1730
  • blogs_blog_1731
  • blogs_blog_1732
  • blogs_blog_1733
  • blogs_blog_1734
  • blogs_blog_1735
  • blogs_blog_1736
  • blogs_blog_1737
  • blogs_blog_1738
  • blogs_blog_1739
  • blogs_blog_1740
  • blogs_blog_1768
  • blogs_blog_1741
  • blogs_blog_1742
  • blogs_blog_1743
  • blogs_blog_1744
  • blogs_blog_1749
  • blogs_blog_1745
  • blogs_blog_1746
  • blogs_blog_1747
  • blogs_blog_1748
  • blogs_blog_1750
  • blogs_blog_1751
  • blogs_blog_1752
  • blog ehks
  • blogs_blog_1798
  • blogs_blog_1755
  • blogs_blog_1756
  • blogs_blog_1757
  • blogs_blog_1765
  • blogs_blog_1758
  • blogs_blog_1759
  • blogs_blog_1760
  • blogs_blog_1761
  • blogs_blog_1762
  • blogs_blog_1763
  • blogs_blog_1764
  • blogs_blog_1767
  • blogs_blog_1766
  • blogs_blog_1772
  • blogs_blog_1769
  • blogs_blog_1770
  • blogs_blog_1771
  • blogs_blog_1773
  • blogs_blog_1774
  • blogs_blog_1775
  • blogs_blog_1776
  • blogs_blog_1777
  • Generic Blog Name
  • blogs_blog_1779
  • blogs_blog_1780
  • blogs_blog_1781
  • blogs_blog_1782
  • blogs_blog_1783
  • blogs_blog_1784
  • blogs_blog_1785
  • blogs_blog_1786
  • blogs_blog_1787
  • blogs_blog_1788
  • blogs_blog_1789
  • blogs_blog_1790
  • blogs_blog_1791
  • blogs_blog_1792
  • blogs_blog_1795
  • blogs_blog_1796
  • blogs_blog_1797
  • blogs_blog_1799
  • blogs_blog_1800
  • blogs_blog_1801
  • blogs_blog_1802
  • Blog Name Here
  • blogs_blog_1804
  • blogs_blog_1805
  • blogs_blog_1806
  • blogs_blog_1807
  • blogs_blog_1808
  • blogs_blog_1809
  • blogs_blog_1810
  • blogs_blog_1811
  • blogs_blog_1812
  • blogs_blog_1813
  • blogs_blog_1814
  • blogs_blog_1816
  • blogs_blog_1817
  • blogs_blog_1818
  • blogs_blog_1819
  • blogs_blog_1820
  • blogs_blog_1821
  • blogs_blog_1822
  • blogs_blog_1823
  • blogs_blog_1824
  • blogs_blog_1825
  • blogs_blog_1826
  • blogs_blog_1827
  • blogs_blog_1828
  • blogs_blog_1834
  • blogs_blog_1829
  • blogs_blog_1830
  • blogs_blog_1831
  • blogs_blog_1832
  • blogs_blog_1833
  • blogs_blog_1859
  • blogs_blog_1835
  • blogs_blog_1836
  • blogs_blog_1837
  • blogs_blog_1838
  • blogs_blog_1839
  • blogs_blog_1847
  • blogs_blog_1840
  • blogs_blog_1848
  • blogs_blog_1849
  • blogs_blog_1850
  • blogs_blog_1851
  • blogs_blog_1852
  • blogs_blog_1870
  • Valendale's Reflections
  • blogs_blog_1854
  • blogs_blog_1855
  • blogs_blog_1856
  • blogs_blog_1857
  • blogs_blog_1858
  • blogs_blog_1860
  • Kranan's Floating Isle
  • blogs_blog_1862
  • blogs_blog_1863
  • blogs_blog_1865
  • blogs_blog_1867
  • Time to put on a show...
  • blogs_blog_1869
  • blogs_blog_1886
  • blogs_blog_1872
  • blogs_blog_1873
  • blogs_blog_1874
  • blogs_blog_1875
  • blogs_blog_1876
  • blogs_blog_1877
  • blogs_blog_1878
  • blogs_blog_1899
  • blogs_blog_1879
  • blogs_blog_1880
  • blogs_blog_1893
  • blogs_blog_1882
  • blogs_blog_1887
  • blogs_blog_1883
  • blogs_blog_1884
  • blogs_blog_1885
  • blogs_blog_1889
  • blogs_blog_1898
  • blogs_blog_1890
  • Inverted Moon
  • blogs_blog_1892
  • blogs_blog_1894
  • blogs_blog_1895
  • blogs_blog_1896
  • blogs_blog_1897
  • blogs_blog_1900
  • blogs_blog_1901
  • Blognle
  • it's summer and we're running out of ice
  • blogs_blog_1908
  • blogs_blog_1909
  • blogs_blog_1910
  • blogs_blog_1911

Product Groups

  • Premier Membership
  • BioniLUG
  • BrickFair Events
    • BrickFair Party Campaign (In-Person)
    • BrickFair Party Campaign (Online)
  • Parts Drafts
  • Merchandise

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


Twitter


Instagram


Facebook


Discord


YouTube


Flickr


Skype


Website URL


LEGO.com Account


AIM


Location


Interests


Previous Username

Found 210 results

  1. So for the first few months of 2020 I have been posting a bunch of my short stories on BZPower, most of them connected to versions of my vigilante Fe-Matoran character “Kanohi.” Because if you are going to make a Bionicle superhero, there are worse names than “Mask.” The story concept was a Matoran who would protect his fellows, guided by visions like Vakama had in LoMN. Because I freaking love the idea of that glitch. He would never become a a Toa, if fact his Destiny would be to always be a Matoran, never to transform. Since then I have explored a version of Kanohi over in the RPG topic, one who is a bit more of a mess than the one in these short stories. He’s a lovable mess though. He still can be a bit of a mess here, but in these stories he’s been a vigilante for at least a few centuries, he’s a bit more confident and a lot more experienced. Either way he continues to grapple around on Volo Lutu Launchers, helping the Matoran he can. Point is, I figured I should make a little library for these short stories, in case anyone is interested in reading the adventures of Kanohi, outside of the Six Kingdoms RPGs. They are all fairly short, no epics so far, and if I do make an epic I don’t think it would involve Kanohi much, and instead would be about a version of the Toa Inika. Spoilers for one of my continuities though. Anyway, please enjoy these short stories about a Matoran vigilante trying to protect his people. Kanohi: Core The Core Universe Of Villagers, Outcasts, and Heroes: The short story that started it all, this takes place in the island of Mata-Nui, during the events of the Mask of Light movie. This short story is removed from most of that movie’s plot, just him rescuing some refugees from Ta-Koro from a Rahi. This story is canon to both the Core Universe, the Kingdom, and an alternate universe based off the vision Karzahni showed Jaller in the book Dark Destiny. Kanohi: Fear In the book Dark Destiny, Jaller witnessed a vision of a world where he did not sacrifice himself for Takua. The Chronicler was killed, the Toa Nuva were overwhelmed, and the island of Mata-Nui fell into everlasting shadow. Of course, this vision does not make sense in canon, as Teridax would not be content to rule a mere island, nor kill the Toa Nuva. So instead of adhering strictly to the vision, I used it as a springboard for a world without a Toa of Light. It is a dark age, Ta-Koro and Onu-Koro destroyed, the Turaga imprisoned, a horde of Rahkshi enforce their Master’s law, all while six false Toa encourage the Matoran to submit to the Makuta. Of Villagers, Outcasts, and Heroes: also canon to this reality. The Company of Cowards: In this short story thirty seven Matoran flee for the south, guided by visions Kanohi has had of another island. Among the voyagers are the Chronicler’s Company, Nuparu, and Hewkii, all hoping to find asylum from the Makuta, and hopefully allies to free Mata-Nui. A Village Against the Rahkshi: Things have changed drastically for the Matoran, both the refugees of Mata-Nui and the hardy folk of Voya-Nui. With the Chronicler’s Company gone to fulfill two desperate destinies, the remaining Matoran find themselves under attack as six Rahkshi land on their island, searching for the escaped refugees. The Matoran of Mata-Nui only know fear from the Rahkshi, but the Voya-Nui Matoran have not been beaten yet. Kanohi joins them with his Volo Lutu Launchers in defending their village from the Rahkshi, but he strangely requests the Matoran capture and not kill the Rahkshi’s Kraata. What has he foreseen? Kanohi: Kingdom The Universe of the Kingdom of the Great Spirit, the universe Takanuva visited on his journey to reach Karda-Nui. Of Villagers, Outcasts, and Heroes: also canon to this reality. A Restless Freak in Paradise: A short story about a version of Kanohi in the Kingdom Of the Great Spirit, years after Takanuva visited it, but before the people all migrated off Aqua-Magna. In this era of peace, where the Toa no longer protect the Matoran what use is a near powerless vigilante? Other Stories Interview with a Supervillain: Ultra Agents came out during my “Dark Age” but a few years ago I discovered their sets, and was enamored by their villains. Struck by how LEGO often makes their own villains, but rarely their own original superheroes, and the fact that “Tox” was a hero of sorts in the Ninjago show, I wrote this story about a former villainess running into an old adversary. It’s a little preachy, I was less subtle back then, also was in a mood, but if you want a story about a vigilante and a former ultra agent being more than a little gay, here you go.
  2. So I got laid off because of the coronavirus, and I have a cold. I hope it’s a cold. It’s not my best week, and a lot of folks have it worse. So as a distraction, I wrote a new Kanohi story. This is actually a sequel to my last short story, The Company of Cowards, which takes place in a universe inspired by the vision Karzahni showed Jaller in Dark Destiny. Both stories are also sequels to my original Kanohi Short Story; Of Villagers, Outcasts, and Heroes, though that one can fit into a couple universes like the Kingdom and the Core Reality. Point is, here is a new story about a grappling vigilante Fe-Matoran, with him back in the lead role. Please enjoy, at the least it’s a bit of a distraction. A Village Against the Rahkshi … Kanohi wiped the large wooden mask, a powerless mask carved in the shape of a noble Ruru. He hooked it atop his head, covering him a strange tribal appearance. He breathed steady, hands shaking. He … he had put on a brave face for the other Matoran, but here, the fear came out. He was not a Po-Matoran. He was a Fe-Matoran. And Vakama would have known that. His visions of an underground world under attack by monstrous spiders and Rahkshi, those were real, but Vakama had lied and said those visions were not so literal. There was so much Vakama had never told him. So much he still would not know if not for Axonn. So much of what he knew over the past millennia was just … lies. He understood the need for secrecy, he might have left Mata-Nui to help the underground Matoran, many would have. And despite Vakama’s mentoring, Kanohi was an outcast, a vigilante who did not belong to any one Koro but helped all Matoran. If people far away had needed him more, he would have left Mata-Nui with regret but resolve. But even though he understood by the Turaga had lied, it stung like a hundred Nui-Kopen. And it still wasn’t right. Necessary maybe, but not right. Kanohi held out his orange and black arms. Like the rest of his body they were plated with wooden masks, but sticking out of his firearms right before his wrists were small launchers. Between the technology of Voya-Nui weaponry, and the inventiveness of Nuparu, the Fe-Matoran had been able to get upgraded again. He how had two Volo Lutu Launchers; one built into each arm, to let him grapple across the jungle with ease. Even the strange jungle of Voya-Nui. Satisfied at his arms, he pulled out his lighter, gazing into the flame. As the fire danced he could see image dance in the embers. That was one honest thing Vakama had told him at least, how to focus his strange ability to prophesies with fire. Within the flickering flames he could see three of the new Toa; Macku, Kapura, and Hafu, all sailing with Hewkii and Axon. They were traveling back towards the island of Mata-Nui through the gloom of night, only the Red Star breaking the endless void of blackness. Axonn rowed and Macku pushed the ship with her elemental power, waves splashing from each push. As water foamed in their wake, the white bubbles broke apart like clumps of wet sand, before crumbling into an avalanche. Kanohi tried to grapple away, but it soon was upon, smothering him in darkness. He shivered in the gloom, before red rusted eyes consumed his sight, and a terrible voice shouted, “where is the Mask of Time!” “Kanohi, sir?” The autistic vigilante spun around, his hands shaking, his heartlight pounding beneath his wooden masks. Piruk flinched at his outburst, and Kanohi tried to settle his breathing. “Yes, brother?” “I … I was surveying the northern coast with Dalu, she enhanced my sense and … there are strange reptilian creatures flying this way. Six of them, all yellow, holding staffs.” “Rahkshi of Heat Vision,” Kanohi sighed like a hovercraft’s engine dying, “the Makuta has found us. Has Garan and Dalu already rallied the Matoran?” “Um yes.” “Is Brutaka joining us?” “No he … he says six Rahkshi are not worth his time.” “I think he will change his tune if we capture some Kraata,” Kanohi stood up. That was another thing Vakama had trusted him with, even more than all Matoran. The only Matoran to ever go hunt Kraata with the Turaga were Matoro and Kanohi, though more as bait than as fighters. “What are Kraata?” “What controls a Rahkshi, the Rahkshi is just a suit of armor a Kraata controls. They are not very smart, but they are dangerous, and can corrupt masks.” Kanohi stretched, adjusting his wooden masks one more time, before saying, “Piruk, I know this is a lot to ask, but report back to Garan, he might need you to report to the other village, and he will need to know these are Rahkshi of Heat Vision.” “M-m-me?” “We all must do our part. With half of the Toa Inika heading to liberate Mata-Nui from the Makuta and his false Toa, and the other half moving to find the Mask of Life, we need all of us Matoran working together. You don’t need to fight, just transmit news between the Matoran.” “R-right, easy. Well, you know what Balta always says…” “…You don’t need to be a Toa to be a hero,” Kanohi nodded, walking out of the hut. Looking about he aimed his right arm to a tree, and a sphere of gravity blasted out of his built-in launcher. It slammed into the treetop, and then in a rush the raw gravity pulled, ripping Kanohi off the village clearing and into the air. As he hit the tree he fired from his left arm, grappling to another tree. He ricocheted from tree to tree, patrolling the village even as other Matoran ran about in preparation for the Rahkshi. … Dalu focused her Chargers as a Rahkshi flew overhead, a tight glare in her optics. With some strange power emanated from her silver blades, striking the beast. As the beast turned towards her it lurched, suddenly as heavy as a Kikanalo. The Rahkshi plummeted like a stone, smashing into the ground with a resounding thud. She ran at the beast, but as she drew close it glared it’s eyes at her, and twin beams of burning energy slammed into her. She wheezed in pain, before that wheeze ignited into anger. “I am not so easily cowed!” The Ga-Matoran snarled, balancing on one arm and her legs. With some strain she fired her Chargers again, this time at the ground beneath the Rahkshi. The earth beneath the beast began to crumble, eroding what should take centuries in a matter of seconds. The Rahkshi was buried, and she slumped over, panting. “Take … that … Rahi,” she managed to shout. Using her Chargers was a big drain, she would need to rest or risk passing out— There was a hiss as beams of red hot flame erupted from the rubble, carving a hole in the debris. She stared up as the Rahkshi dragged itself out of the earth, its armor now scratched up, its legs sparking from when it fell from the sky. The mechanical puppet stepped towards her, its movements jerky like a Rock Ussal scuttling towards its prey. Two blasts of heat vision fired at her, but before it could hit a Ta-Matoran lunged in the way. Balta crossed his Repellers in front of Dalu, the weapons absorbing the full blast of the Rahkshi’s energies. And then with a thrust of his shoulders the Repellers hurled the energy back at the Rahkshi, frying it like the best Toa of Fire. The Rahkshi nearly collapsed, sparking as it used its staff to hold itself upright. With a cock of irs head it fired more heat vision, but not at Balta. The blasts struck a nearby tree, dropping it like a stone. Balta sounds around to repeal the falling tree— Two blasts of heat vision slammed into the Ta-Matoran, sending him tumbling. The good news was that thanks to the blast, the tree had missed hitting him. But the bad news with his injuries, he wasn’t able to lift up his Repellers, too aching from the blow. Balta’s head rolled over to take in the Rahkshi, just as a blur swung through the canopy. As another blast of heat vision flew at the Ta-Matoran a hand grabbed his arm, before grappling away in an instant. The heat vision ignited the tree, but no Matoran was hurt. Kanohi and Balta landed in a roll, as the damaged Rahkshi turned back towards them. Kanohi swallowed and fired a ball of gravity at the Rahkshi, and in a rush was hurled into the beast. He slammed into the servant of the Makuta, knocking it to the ground. As the Rahkshi shakily stood up Kanohi grappled away, calling out, “i-is this the best the M-M-Makuta’s son can do? To lose to three powerless Matoran?” If the Rahkshi was smart enough to understand and insult, it was hard to tell, but it immediately began to fire heat vision after Kanohi, blasting after him like a rampage Muaka. As the forest ignited, Balta suddenly felt some of his strength returning, his injuries mending just a little. There was a thud behind him, and he turned to see Dalu collapse again. She had enhanced his ability to heal. As the Rahkshi fired at Kanohi, the vigilante heard Balta call out, “over here.” The Fe-Matoran obliged, grappling besides Balta. The Rahkshi fired another pair of beams of heat vision, only for Balta to repel them. The blast pounded into the Rahkshi, shattering it in a fiery explosion. “We … we … killed a Rahkshi,” Kanohi managed to squeak out, dropping to his knees. “It’s not over yet,” Balta struggled to stand, putting his hands on Kanohi’s shoulder. The vigilante turned to see the Kraata had burst free of the Rahkshi, and was now oozing towards them. With a nod Kanohi drew a small capsule from his pack, and grappled over to the Kraata, slamming the capsule on top of it. The slug hissed and squirmed as he slid the lid underneath, sealing it away. “Try to rest,” Kanohi urged Balta, “watch over Dalu until she has recovered. I need to hurry back to the village, the bulk of the Rahkshi are headed there.” “Understood, Kanohi.” Balta lay down besides his fellow Matoran, as theFe-Matoran turned, hooked a tree and grappled away, launching his way through the jungle of Voya-Nui. … “Come on, Velika,” urged Kazi, uncharacteristically aggravative, “that Rahkshi is attacking the village, we need to form a Kaita.” “No,” Velika said blunt like a hammer. It was in fact unusually bluntly for Velika, no annoying sing-songs riddles of poems, just a blunt answer. Normally this would strike Kazi as odd. But since there was currently three large reptilian beasts the size of a Toa igniting the hunts and frying the Matoran, Kazi was not in the mood to ponder this. In fact all he could manage to say was simply “Why the Karzahni not?” “We don’t have time for this,” said Garan as he fired a blast from his Pulse Bolt Generators, the pulse flying through the air, growing larger and larger as it flew before pounding the Rahkshi with explosive force, “Piruk, Kazi, we will form the Kaita.” “M-me?” “Yes,” nodded Garan, “just concentrate on our unity, it should be much less of a strain than forming a Matoran Nui.” “I … I will try.” The three Matoran drew close to one another, holding hands as the village burned. Then in a flood of light they merged together, their green, brown, and black bodies fusing into one large Matoran. “Incredible, and I thought the strength we got from Nuparu’s upgrades was intense,” the fusion declared, eyeing his arms and his new two-pronged blades, “but this is on a whole mother level.” The fusion turned towards the rampaging Rahkshi and slammed his blades together, unleashing a powerful burst of sound that only grew sharper and louder as it flew. It slammed into a Rahkshi, sending sparks raining from it like an afternoon rain. The other Rahkshi turned, just as the fusion charged the first Rahkshi, slicing its staff in two. “That, is the power of our unity,” the fusion declared, before slicing and hacking his blades at the Rahkshi. The other two charged at the fusion, and the fusion only laughed boisterously, before lunged at them with clean sweeps of his blades. … “A Matoran Kaita,” Kanohi shook his head in amazement. It was … awe-inspiring to see this penultimate act of the Virtue of Unity, to see Matoran become one in drive and purpose. The giant was a little taller than a Toa, and was a flurry of sound and slashing. It was… Suddenly Kanohi spied a flash of red, and grappled to the side, avoiding a blast of heat vision. He did not have time to witness the unity of the Matoran, there were lives to save first. The vigilante grappled around, his wooden masks thumping and flanging as it went. The sensation the sound gave was oddly comforting to the autistic Matoran, grounding. It kept him calm, as calm as he could be in this moment of raw chaos. Plumes of smoke erupted from huts, ash plummeted to earth as if Mount Valami was erupting, buildings collapsed in explosion of splinters and Matoran collapsed, their metal flesh smoldering from being hit with heat vision. It was … it was just like when Mata-Nui fell. His hands trembled at the memory of Ta-Koro burning in the lava, the smell of roasting Matoran, the crushed remains of Onu-Koro, the sheer destruction caused by the first six Rahkshi, the Matoran of those villages sent as refugees to Po-Koro, to serve the will of the Makuta, then the arrival of those false Toa Piraka— And then he heard the jingling of his armor, and Kanohi let out a breath. They … they had defeated one Rahkshi, that was more than the Turaga ever had. The Matoran of Voya-Nui were strong, they … they could handle six Rahkshi. And since these were all the same type of Rahkshi, they couldn’t physically form a Kaita, same as how three Matoran of Fire couldn’t combine together. And that gave the Matoran a bit of an advantage. Kanohi swooped down towards a burning hut, scooping up a Ko-Matoran. His pistons and servos strained against the weight, but he was a Fe-Matoran, he naturally had better endurance than the average Matoran, and that was before he had been rebuilt to be stronger. Why didn’t you tell me that, Vakama? Just tell me the reason I was such a poor Po-Matoran was because I was not a Matoran of Stone at all, but a Matoran of Iron. The vigilante launched away from the fire, the Ko-Matoran in hand. Finally they tumbled to the ground, now away from the blaze. The vigilante stood up as the Ko-Matoran bolted, signing as the Matoran ran. It … his memories bubbled up inside him, the Toa Nuva could not stand against the Rahkshi, how could a village of Matoran? But he did not have the luxury to be lost in fear. Matoran were in trouble, he could not let Voya-Nui fall too. And he … he was a vigilante hero, he had protected the Matoran for centuries before the Toa arrived, protecting them from wild beasts, capturing Kraata, he was a hero. Not a Toa, but still a hero none the less. Kanohi swallowed, and then grappled back into the fray. … Nuparu slashed with his new electro-blade, frying a Rahkshi’s ankles. He was no great warrior, not the kind to become a Toa, but he had already fled the Rahkshi once, he would not do it again. As the Onu-Matoran lunged out of the way of the Rahkshi’s stomping foot, the fusion charged forward, skewering the Rahkshi’s central compartment. Ooze drooled out from the wound, and the foul smelling fluid pooled into the village center. The Rahkshi swayed, before collapsing down at Nuparu— Only for Kanohi to grapple past and carry the inventor to safety. The vigilante rolled on the landing before grappling away, streaking past the Kaita. “Please try not to kill the Kraata. I have had a vision about the Kraata, we need them to get Brutaka on our side.” “Why?” The fusion startled, “how would that convince him?” “I think he can eat them.” “Eat, like those Piraka you talked about?” The fusion stared after the vigilante, his mouth agape under his mask. Then a blast of heat vision hit him in the back, sending him tumbling. Kanohi swerved in midair and grappled back towards the fusion, as a Rahkshi focused his heat vision at the Kaita. The fusion shuddered, as two more Rahkshi flew into view. The three remaining ones were converging here now. Suddenly one of the Rahkshi became a blur, blasting forward at an inhuman speed. It slammed into a tree, shattering the wood with explosive force. As it stood there dazed Dalu stumbled out, stabbing it with her Chargers. She forced the Kraata’s compartment open, exposing the puppeteer. The slug hissing before lunging at her mask, only to be flung back by Balta’s Repellers. The Kraata smacked to the ground, right as Velika ran up to seal the stunned slug away. And then there was a boom. With explosive force the fusion separated, broken up by the barrage of heat vision. Piruk, Garan and Kazi were flung apart and landed with a resounding thud, too exhausted to function. Kanohi turned to the three other Matoran and said, “can you form a Kaita?” “No, not compatible,” answered Velika quickly. Balta and Dalu gave him a look, and he added, “if the Muaka falls, the Kane-Ra will not do better.” “…Okay. Then I’m try to distract them while you get these three to safety.” “I am not just running from these brutes,” Dalu all but snarled, and Kanohi let out a grin. It was good to see a Matoran who still had that much fire. “Fair enough, then we’ll fight them while Nuparu and you two take the fallen to safety.” “Right—” Heat vision swept at the ground, but Kanohi grappled a nearby tree, hooking Dalu and dragging her out of the way. He swung her as he flew past a Rahkshi, and she lunged at the beast, stabbing it in the eyes. The beast staggered about, and she slashed her Chargers against its thighs. Her friends’ fusion had really done a number on these Rahkshi already, now was just clean up. And as the beast crumbled, she stabbed it through the head, letting a noxious ooze drip out. Kanohi meanwhile was darting around the last Rahkshi, grappling back and forth. It’s heat vision pursued him, try to catch up. And then suddenly it pivoted around, aiming for Piruk. Immediately Kanohi broke left and grappled the Rahkshi, slamming into it. The beast stumbled, heat vision going wild, even as Dalu stabbed it in the head. There was a hiss as the slug dissolved, leaving a black stain on the ground below. And then the Rahkshi collapsed with a thud. Kanohi fell to his knees too, panting, while Dalu kicked the beast and shouted, “yeah, that’s how we do things in Voya-Nui!” … “Incredible,” Brutaka laughed like an avalanche, “I feel … incredible.” The titan slammed his fist against the mountain, shattering a crater in its side. He smirked beneath his strange mask, before punching the mountain again, and again, laughing to himself. As boulders fell Kanohi hooked a tree behind Garan and grappled, catching the Onu-Matoran’s wrist and dragging him to safety. The two Matoran tumbled into a heap, as Brutaka laughed. “And you little creatures killed these Rahkshi on your own?” He shook his head as he smashed open another capsule and slurped out the slug like a Rahi lapping water. He began to glow with more energy, the air rippling around him like the tip of Mount Valami. “Pity you only recovered three of these Kraata,” he scowled. “There are many more on Mata-Nui. And it’s said they are created from the essence of the Makuta himself. So the Turaga say.” Though they will lie if they wish. “Oh I know a lot about the Brotherhood of Makuta,” Brutaka laughed, standing up on his long gold and blue legs, “I’ve fought Rahkshi before too. But to eat one? I never even dreamed…” Under his mask Brutaka sneered, “I think I will visit this island of yours after all,” Brutaka decided, and his mask began to glow. Before the two Matoran’s eyes space rippled and ruptured, until a tear in reality formed. And within the rift, Kanohi could see a very familiar beach. “You could teleport that far?” Garan declared, “then why make your brother Axonn sail to Mata-Nui? Why not help evacuate my people’s northern brothers and sisters?” “I didn’t see the point,” Brutaka answered, before stepping through the portal. And behind him the gateway sealed shut, as if it had never been. “Do you really think we can trust him?” Garan glanced at Kanohi, “No,” answered Kanohi with a sigh, “but he will distract the Makuta, and the Toa Inika there will need all the help they can get.” “The Makuta is truly that strong?” “Yes,” Kanohi shivered, and then forced a smile, “still, I thought the Rahkshi were untouchable, and today we destroyed six of them. Nuparu and Velika are already busy salvaging their remains for more tools and weapons, even as your village is mended.” “You know, when the Makuta is defeated, and Mata-Nui is saved, our islands could learn a lot from each other. Trading goods, stories, knowledge, we are running low on food and resources, your richer island could save us. We already defeated monsters that could defeat your Toa Nuva. Imagine what we could do in a few years.” Kanohi’s face relaxed into a faint smile, before saying, “I better return to your village, we need everyone we can to fix the damage it suffered.” “Then hurry,” Garan laughed, “before my people defeat the Makuta without you.” Kanohi nodded, before grappling away through the jungle of Voya-Nui. The vigilante smile faded as he grappled, despite their words it wasn’t that simple of course. Not only was the Makuta a danger, but the false Toa themselves were powerful, though only ‘Toa’ Thok, ‘Toa’ Vezok, and ‘Toa’ Hakann seemed to be able to use their elements. But all of them had strange and incredible powers, allegedly because of the masks the ‘noble’ Makuta gave them when he appointed them the ‘protectors’ of the Matoran. Lies, all lies. The fights the Toa Inika would face in the coming days would not be easy. But the least he could do while the new Toa saved the Matoran and Mata-Nui was to protect the Matoran on Voya-Nui, both refugees and natives alike. He had a duty to all Matoran, he became a vigilante to protect them on an island with no Toa, to give them hope, and well, here he was again. And despite all his fears, his knowledge, there was another truth. Today was a victory. And that would keep him going. So Kanohi continued to grapple from tree to tree, hurtling between branches as he headed back to this island village, in a forest so alike but unalike his home. And this was the way, of the Bionicle.
  3. I wasn’t going to post this one yet, but since the world is in quarantine I felt like I might as well share a story so folks have something to read. This story was inspired by … kind of a canon alternate universe, but not really. I was hit with inspiration by the vision Jaller experiences in Bionicle Legends: Dark Destiny, the world where he did not sacrifice himself for Takua. Makuta over, the Matoran enslaved, one thousand years later the Turaga are killed in an attempted assassination, and Jaller and Hahli are broken servants of the Makuta. Dark times. Now that vision … doesn’t exactly gel with the canon. I’m not sure Makuta would wait over a thousand years ruling the isle of Mata-Nui, or kill the Toa Nuva, not when he would know that Mata-Nui would die soon after MoL. Karzahni visions aren’t always accurate, so I’m not surprised it may have some continuity issues. So I used that vision as the basis for this story, but made some adjustments and changes as I plotted it. I have other ideas for this AU, Versions of the Toa Inika, someone using the Vahki with the willpower to use its full power, what really happened to the Toa Nuva, just rough ideas I haven’t really polished yet. Maybe they will appear as either an epic or a few short stories, not sure which, but leaning towards the latter. Also this story features my OC Kanohi, because I like him, though Macku has a bigger role in the story. Anyway without further ado, here is the Company of Cowards. … There was no dawn through this storm, the black clouds reigned above as they hurled their weapons down like a swarm of hornets. The rain was a barrage of arrows, thunder was the battering ram, and lightning had all the force of a ballista. Nature itself was tearing at the makeshift raft, striving to destroy it in an unnatural fury. The boat was made of everything they could find, parts were scavenged from the huts of Ga-Koro, others from their boats, others from trees of Le-Wahi, even the six Toa Canisters were used to build the craft. It was held-together more through prayer than the vines and ropes that lashed around it. Seaweed was plastered across its sides, until it looked more like a particularly large clump of algae than a ship. Shivering in the storm were thirty seven Matoran, all hiding underneath tarps of seaweed. Their metal frames were blasted with saltwater, only the Ga-Matoran and Ko-Matoran braced the weather with any real resistance, all the others struggled each to stay conscious, their heartlights faint. Only their heartlights and eyes glowed, no other light was lit in this ship as it plunged through darkness, Most of them were rowing, others adjusted the crude rudders to steer through the endless ocean that encompassed their world. And a few Matoran peered out through gaps in the seaweed canopy with spyglasses, daring to pry into the skies about. “Rahkshi,” a faint voice managed, pointing to the port side of the boat. Macku held up her finger for silence, before squeezing under the canvas of kelp to stand besides him. The Ga-Matoran held out her spyglass in the direction that he pointed, even as she unholstered a throwing disk from her back. Up through the lens of her telescope, Macku could see three reptilian shapes streaking through the sky. Each had sharp spines jetting out of their hunched-back, and their heads were all but serpentine. Each held a double-sided staff in their claws, which they swung and gestured with periodically. Their armor was a vibrant gold, almost mocking the memory of the Avohkii. She tensed up as the thought of that Mask, she had only seen it once, seven years ago. During the last Kolhii Match, when it fell out of the Chronicler’s bag, illuminating Jaller with light. Turaga Nokama had translated it, revealing it was the Mask of Light, heralding the arrival of a seventh Toa. But a seventh Toa never appeared, and the island of Mata-Nui was enslaved by the Makuta. And now she and all the other Matoran who could were fleeing their homes, abandoning their sisters and brothers to their horrible fate. Cowards. Just like Jaller. The Ga-Matoran swallowed, holstering her disk. “Spread the word to keep quiet, Tamaru,” she urged the Le-Matoran, and he nodded. They might be cowards, but there was no way they could win a fight with three Rahkshi. They were just … Matoran. Macku pressed her way back through the bowels of the ship, crouching low to not disturb the vessel’s disguise. Finally she squeezed over to Hewkii, Hafu, and Kanohi. The first two brandished a throwing disk in one hand and a Kolhii staff in the other, standing guard. Kanohi meanwhile was huddled low to the ground, staring deeply into his lighter. He was covered in wooden masks carved in the shape of Ruru, using them for armor. Besides him were three objects, the first was Turaga Whenua’s Drill Staff, the second was a Volo Lutu Launcher; last of its kind. And then besides the Turaga’s Badge of Office was something wrapped tightly in canvas and cushioned atop a pillow. Most Matoran did not know what it was, but Macku knew all too well what lay underneath it. “Three Rahkshi are on the port side,” Macku whispered, “I don’t think they have spotted us yet, but I’ve told Tamaru to pass the word to keep quiet.” “Karzahni,” sighed Hewkii, “we are tens of miles away from Mata-Nui, how did they find us?” “The Makuta’s reach is great,” answered Kanohi, “but he has not found us yet. All he knows is where we might be headed.” “And this other land, there are Matoran there?” “Many Matoran, though their bodies are weak, like ours used to be. I think between me and Nuparu we could upgraded their bodies too.” “And are there Toa? Not false Toa like Vezok and Zaktan, real Toa. Heroes.” “There … may be Toa, I see two strange beings, titanic in size, both wearing masks and brandishing powerful weapons. One is stout with armor of red and silver, the other is lean and is plated in gold and silver. I fear they are at odds however.” “Are they strong enough to challenge the Makuta?” Macku interrupted. “My visions are rarely easy to understand,” answered Kanohi, “I understand your frustration. To be blindsided by this tragedy, it is … humbling.” “To say the least,” muttered Macku. “Well, it’s not all hopeless, Macku,” Hewkii huffed and forced a grin, “we’ve smuggled some of our brothers and sisters to safety.” “Yes, until the Makuta decides to track us down,” she shook her head, before her face reddened and she added, “still, you’re right, we’ll probably have the Makuta dead in days and soon enough we’ll be after the seventh Toa again. She contorted her face into a smile beneath her mask. “Macku, you don’t need to hide your fears with me,” Hewkii said quietly, before cracking a more genuine grin, “and it looks like the effort is hurting you.” “True enough,” she shook her head, her smile not quite as forced now. “Excuse me,” a slow voice said. Macku turned to see Kapura, his crimson body covered in a thick cloak. The Ta-Matoran spoke like the slow approach of a glacier, even as his body trembled from the frigid cold, “the Rahkshi have diverted course … to the west.” “Then have they missed us then?” Hafu blurted out with a grin as big as the ocean. “…I think so,” answered Kanohi as he stared into the fire, “keep everyone quiet for now, but I think they are heading elsewhere.” “You are sure?” “Give me a moment to focus,” he said, gazing into the flames, “it’s not easy to steer my power enough to see what I want to know. Kapura, Macku; thank you for your messages.” “It’s the least we can do,” Macku sighed, sitting down, “I should return to my watch, keep an eye on the Rahkshi.” “What color were they?” Kanohi asked suddenly. “Golden, like the Avohkii.” “Before the Toa Nuva were overwhelmed, Turaga Vakama confided in me the types of Rahkshi. I believe the three of them would be Rahkshi of Weather Control, this storm is their work.” “They can even twist nature against us.” “Yes. Oh, sorry, I was thinking out loud. I … I can see nothing, but I will stick to my fire. For the meantime, watch the storm, and be careful leaving the ship. Macku, have your Ga-Matoran forage seaweed when they can, I’ll drill a hole in the ship to dive from.” Macku nodded, “I will pass it alone.” “And I will pass along your orders,” Kapura interrupted. Macku turned to look at him, but he had already vanished into the recesses of the ship. … Kanohi could see Vakama screaming, the Turaga being blasted by the power of fear. The manifestation of raw terror smothered him, as a voice snarled. “The Mask. Where did your pupil hide the Mask?” The waves of gaseous fear blotted out the stars, snuffing them out as Kanohi stumbled in the dark. And then he felt water splash into his face. He looked down to see a Ga-Matoran flailing in the rocky ocean below him, her leg engulfed by a Takea, the shark dragging her down— “Kanohi?” The autistic Matoran lurched away from his lighter, spinning to his feet and thrusting Whenua’s Drill Staff behind him. His optics darted around as the drill whirled. No one was there. And then he spotted Kapura, standing besides him. “You had a vision.” “Yes,” Kanohi admitted, “a Ga-Matoran drowning, a Takea attacking her. I couldn’t tell who she was, it was hard to see.” The starlight outside was all but extinguished, the only light came from the blasts of lightning striking the ocean.” “It may be happening.” “Karzahni. Who?” “Macku has not returned, Hewkii is considering diving after her.” Kanohi nodded, handing over the Drill Staff. “If you have to, shatter it.” “Yes.” Kanohi crouched and made his way through the ship, his Volo Lutu Launcher already back in his hands. It was meant for the jungles of Le-Wahi, but he had made it waterproof, at least as best he could. There, peering over the hole was Hewkii, his hands squeezing his spear until it nearly snapped in half. The hole had been drill in only a few hours ago, the rim bent upward as water splashed inside the boat. Seaweed lay stacked in mounds in this chamber, sloppy and wet. “Move,” said Kanohi, as he pulled out a bundle from his pack. “Please, just … bring her back.” Kanohi nodded and dived in, sinking into the water. With a whip of the cloth he uncovered the Lightstone, illuminating the darkness of the stormy sea. Clutching it in one hand he swam through the gloom, searching for any traces. He was no Ga-Matoran, he couldn’t hold his breath for long. He would have to hurry. … Macku moved her hands towards the object, formerly lost to the waves. It … it looked like a curved blade, a similar shade of silver to the Toa Nuva’s weapons. But it was small, seemingly built for a Matoran’s use than a Toa or a Turaga. As she touched it it radiated light, and a mild shock of electricity zapped her hand. She recoiled, her hand sore, what … what kind of Matoran tool has that kind of power? This could be useful. She grabbed the seaweed from her pack, and wrapped some of it around her hand. She reached over, grasping the tool, it singed the plant fibers but they held. Strange, was it damaged by the erosion of the sea? How long had it been here? As she held the blade in front of her, through its sparks she spotted something swimming through the gloom. She immediately kicked off the rocky patch and swam away, heading back towards the ship. The water curved behind her, something huge was getting closer, shoving aside the ocean like blades of grass. Macku swallowed and turned around, just in time for her blade to illuminate a Takea’s jaws, the teeth glinting from the electricity. She stared in horror just … not responding, as the Takea chomped down on her leg. Somehow she was numb to it, the teeth pierced her leg and she felt nothing. She just stared there. Then suddenly the water rippled, and a Matoran slammed into the Takea. The shark released her, and she drifted through the water, bubbles popping out from under her mask, her eyes motionless. … Kanohi wasn’t sure if Macku was already dead, but he couldn’t dwell on that much, ramming into the shark had staggered him, he had almost released his breath. He swerved in the water and fired a sphere of gravity besides Macku, and with a flurry of bubbles he flew besides her. Her heartlight was still lit, she was still alive. He grabbed her hand and squeezed, trying to help her store, and she almost strangled his fingers. He flinched, before feeling the ocean bend behind him. With a twist of his wrist he fired his Volo Lutu Launcher again, and grappled out of the Takea’s jaws with Macku hanging behind him. He winced at the strain dragging her weight behind him, but he held on. He was … he was different, he could endure it. Kanohi fired his Volo Lutu Launcher over and over, grappling across the ocean floor. Up ahead he could see the hole in the ship, they were almost there. He could feel his head burn from lack of air, not literally but metaphorically. He … he did not have much longer to make it through the water. Then with a rip Macku slipped out of his hands, throwing him off course. He sailed past the hole, struggling to right himself. He … he needed to get her. Finally he hooked something and went flying, before flying up back into the ship. He panted as fresh air filled his lungs, his hands trembling. He swallowed, Hewkii was shouting at him, but his words were utterly unintelligible. “Going back,” Kanohi managed to say, before diving back underwater. He grappled down to the seabed, before using the Lightstone to search for Macku. Through the gloom he spied a flickering light, she was standing up shaking, some tool in her hand flashing while the Takea swam around towards her. He grappled at her, hand outstretched. … Macku stared up at the shark, it’s jaws were nothing like a Rahkshi, but in its rage and aggression, she could see a resemblance. She blankly looked at it, her hand trembling. She used to be in the Chronicler’s Company, she was a great Matoran, she broke the blockade to get help when Ga-Kori was overrun. She defended the Toa themselves when they descended into Kini-Nui. She was … she used to be strong. But now … she felt like a Turahk was blasting her with raw fear, until her servos and joints couldn’t move. No matter how much she wanted to. The Takea barreled down on her, before Kanohi slammed into it again. He knocked the shark off course, missing her and smacking into rock. Macku stared as the shark shook itself off before swimming away from her, now pursuing the Po-Matoran. Macku’s optics followed after Kanohi, his Lightstone illuminating his movements. He grappled again and again across the jagged seabed, the shark gaining on him, its jaws opening up to engulf him. The Ga-Matoran she … she couldn’t let him get eaten. He was a hero. He had protected Mata-Nui long before the Toa landed on their shores, rescued Matoran from dangerous beasts. She … she couldn’t let him die. The Matoran would need him. Look at her. Weak, cowardly. She belonged in Karzahni, with the rest of the failures. Then suddenly she felt a hand grasp hers, and a familiar Mask of Speed greeted her. Hewkii. She hung to his hand tight, and he squeezed back equally hard. His hand seemed to speak in her hand, not with words but with feeling. You are not alone. She felt her heartlight tremble as she stumbled upright, getting a mild shock from her blade, as a Hewkii grasped her hand too. Then with a shove they swam at the Takea, Macku took the lead, she was a better swimmer after all. With a thrust she slammed the electric blade into the shark, and sparks ignited the ocean like a thousand heartlights. The shark gurgled out bubbles, and then with a powerful swish of its tail it turned and swam away into the ocean. Macku released the blade, which Hewkii caught. Trembling she grabbed Kanohi’s Volo Lutu Launchet of his hand, he barely fought her, woozy. She grabbed his hand and Hewkii grabbed his other, but not before pocketing his Lightstone. With a squeeze of the trigger she hooked the hole of the ship, and the three of them grappled into the watercraft. With strain Hewkii threw first Macku, then Kanohi inside the ship, before climbing inside the crude vessel himself. The three of them laid there panting, heaving as a few Matoran looked over them. Finally Hewkii stumbled upright with his spear for balance, and began to speak. Not that Macku could hear his words, she was numb to the world around her. She lay there limp and exhausted, before a Hewkii crouched besides her. He spoke to her and she stared up at him, unable to process his language. A Ga-Matoran bent over her, looking at her leg with a shaking head. “What’s wrong?” asked Macku, though she couldn’t hear her voice. What could be wrong with her leg, she couldn’t even feel it? … Macku slammed her makeshift crutches down, swinging her body around on her good leg. She lumbered through the gloom, with a Hewkii following her, his arms outstretched. “I can handle this much,” she said shakily. “I know. But you don’t have to, alone at least.” She sighed, “I know. Thank you.” “Hey, you Ga-Matoran value Unity most of the Three Virtues, if anything I learned it from you.” “Po-Matoran treasure Unity highly too.” You just treasure Duty more than I ever could. The two of them made their way to Kanohi, who was sitting down, Drill Staff at the ready. At his feet was the electro-blade, partly dissected. “Any luck understanding this weapon yet?” “Not really, the technology behind it is incredible, beyond anything on Mata-Nui, save the Bohrok and Boxers. Nuparu has made progress though. It must be from Voya-Nui. I … in my visions of the island I have seen Matoran with strange but powerful weapons, it must be one of theirs.” “Then we are close?” “Maybe. More importantly, the storm is dwindling, and I have had another vision. The Rahkshi have stopped searching these waters, for the moment at least?” “Really? What … what did you see?” Macku briefly couldn’t see the glow of her heartlight, too stunned for it to flicker. “From what I could understand they spotted a drifting patch of seaweed with Takea feasting on fish inside. I think they believed we perished and that was the wreckage of our craft. Again, we should lay low for a time, avoid fishing or repairing the hull, but I think we might have escaped.” Hewkii practically tackled Macku in relief, and she embraced him too, the two Matoran squeezing each other in a whirl of clinking armor. Their bodies almost seemed to intertwine with each other. Then finally they pulled back with a nod, and Macku said, “I should resume searching the skies, this time keep watch over him, alright?” “Of course,” nodded Hewkii, saluting her, and slamming his throwing disk into his forehead in the process. She laughed as he winced from the blow, and he blushed too. “I will go to Tamaru,” Kapura added slowly, “inform him of your vision.” Macku startled at his voice, she hadn’t even known he was there. “Of course—” Kanohi began to say, but Kapura was already gone. Macku shook her head at her fellow’s strange speed, before ducking under a beam and squeezing back through the dank ship. Her metal feet splashed against the floorboard drenched in saltwater and slime, puddles sloshing back and forth as the craft swayed from the dissipating storm. … By the fifth week of travel the Matoran had voted and had decided to name their ship the Voya-Suva; the Voyage Shrine. It seemed fitting, as they carried the prayers of the Matoran with them on this long journey, and Kanohi had had a prophecy claiming the island they sought to be named Voya-Nui. “What do you think?” asked Hewkii as Macku surfaced. She carried a net in her hands, full of seaweed to be ripped up into fibers. Hewkii held a net too, hauling in fish for the Matoran to eat. Turaga Vakama had empowered Kanohi’s lighter with some of his elemental power, easily enough to cook the fish the Matoran caught on their journey. “About what?” She asked. Her crutches lay besides Hewkii, her leg had ultimately needed to be amputated, and they did not have access to the tools to make a prosthetic. Still, she could still swim fairly well, and her lungs were still stronger than other Matoran “The latest vision Kanohi shared with us. That the Makuta may not only have cast the Great Spirit into a deep sleep, but that the Great Spirit might be dying.” She looked away, “I’m trying not to think about it. The last few days have been so tranquil, it’s best we do not dwell on a prophecy that is so … distant.” “Yeah, I guess we need to keep our senses sharp,” Hewkii agreed, “The last thing we need is to be gloomy on a day like this.” The two Matoran stole a glance at the sky. It was a bright blue, but worse it was clear. If a Rahkshi flew overhead, it would not be hard to spy their boat, and to discover its true nature. But for now, no Rahkshi could be seen. “Besides, Kanohi said so himself that his prophecies are not easy to understand, it might have been a metaphor for the Matoran being … beaten.” “Yeah, might be just them losing faith in the Great Spirit.” They both fell silent, Macku awkwardly treading water. Neither Matoran brought up the simple truth. Even if the Great Spirit was genuinely dying, or worse, if he already had, there was nothing they could do. The Makuta’s reach was as endless as the ocean, Mata-Nui belonged to him, his Rahkshi, and the false Toa who enforced order in the six villages. “…Do you think Hahli is alright?” “You want the truth?” “No, I already know it.” Then came a thunderous sound, and both of Matoran flinched, drawing their throwing disks at the rumbling. Their heartlights flashed violently, as they stood there watching. Finally they heard a Matoran shout in the distance, “Razor Whale scraping against the ship,” and the pair of them slowly stowed away their disks. But their heartlights continued to pulse. “…Hahli.” “She continues to resist to her dying breath, leading a guerrilla battle against the Makuta, using Volo Lutu Launchers to slip past the Rahkshi and throwing disks to shatter the false Toa’s masks.” “Lie better,” muttered Macku, “the false Toa don’t wear masks.” “I know. But there is not much any Matoran can do against those strange beings. Even if the Toa Nuva had still been alive when the Makuta first unleashed those Piraka, there is not much even the Toa could have done against them.” “Heh, here we are, we want to ignore those problems, and we are obsessing over them. Guess my cowardice is all consuming.” “You are not a coward.” “What do you call a Ga-Matoran who abandoned her sister to be ruled by a monster?” “So did all of us. We are leaving to get help.” “But are any of us coming back to Mata-Nui afterwards? No, we all will hide in our new refuge like good little Matoran, hoping these two Titans can fight our battles.” “…” “Some Chronicler’s Company we are. Our Chronicler dies and the six of us flee our island, not only forsaking our brothers and sisters but his own memory.” “I know … your guilt,” Kapura interrupted, coming up from behind them. Macku nodded towards him, hauling her catch onto the deck. As it slapped onto the deck Kapura started to speak again, but by then Macku had already dived back underwater. She was tethered to the Voya-Suva by a cord woven of seaweed fibers, to prevent her from drifting away. The Ga-Matoran had been in the Chronicler’s Company alongside Tamaru, Hafu, Kapura, Kopeke, and Taipu. They had worked with the Chronicler to help the Toa, famously defending the entrance to Kini-Nui so the Toa would not be ambushed. Oh if only the Toa had actually defeated the Makuta then. Shortly after Macku resurfaced, with another net of seaweed behind her. As she climbed up Kapura began to speak, but Hewkii spoke first. “Kapura says that we’ve spotted land in the distance, looks mountainous and icy, like Ko-Wahi back home. Might be the northern tip of Voya-Nui.” Macku let out a tightly held breath, before sitting onto the deck facing the ocean, her foot dipping in the saltwater. She reached behind her and pulled out her spyglass, scanning the endless waves. “I think I see it,” she smiled, then frowned, “it looks … thin. Is it really so small?” “No … just the tip … of the island. Its size rivals Mata-Nui.” “Incredible,” she shook her head, “ a whole other island of Matoran. Matoran who have never had the wisdom of a Turaga, or the protection of a Toa. And they live together, not separated into different villages based off their element.” “So Kanohi says.” She sighed, “even for the thousand years before the Toa, we still had the Turaga. To not even have that, not to mention how none of them know of the Titans on their island…” “They have been alone in a way we never knew.” “We know it now.” “They will have experience … to share.” “Yes. And if we can … work with the Titans … we might be able to overcome … the Makuta.” “And someone as large and mighty as the Titans might even be able to use Kanohi’s secret.” “Don’t speak it,” muttered Hewkii, and Macku nodded. The fewer knew what Kanohi had smuggled with them, the better it would be. As far as Makuta knew, Turaga Vakama had told Kapura to hide it. And hopefully the Makuta still thought it was on Mata-Nui. It was the only thing that could stay the Makuta’s hand from destroy the Voya-Suva. After all, the Makuta was a god onto himself, but he was no match for the raw force of time. But it was still unwise to mention it. Not even Toa Nuva Tahu could control its full power, maybe only the Great Spirit or the Makuta could. So Kanohi guarded it, ready to shatter the artifact with the full force of Turaga Whenua’s Drill Staff. And the resulting chaos … the universe would never recover. … Macku and the other Ga-Matoran struggled underwater, pushing the Voya-Suva across the shallows. The others had insisted she just rest, but she could not. She could do this at least, stand united with her fellow refugees in one task. And with all of them working together, the weight was less. In front of the Voya-Suva, the group’s Onu-Matoran and Po-Matoran strained, using their enhanced strength to drag the boat on the mountainous terrain of the shoreline. They meant to drag the boat onto the shore of Voya-Nui, to repurpose it as a crude shelter. It would take time to fully explore the massive island, alone find the Matoran. And then finding the Titans would be another problem altogether. So in the meantime, the Matoran refugees would need a place to hide and escape the predators on this strange island. They have traveled down the coast for a number of days, trying to find where the shore was shallow enough to land on. Finally they had reached such a spot, and had resolved to make it a base of sorts. It helped that landscape was a lot less frigid here. Still the Ko-Matoran remained the Matoran best suited for this landscape, able to endure the cold of the peaks. Kopeke had led a number of them into the icy mountains, to at least do some scouting. Kapura was scouting south, hoping to find a village in the more temperate regions. Hopefully down there, where it would be comfortable for more types of Matoran, there would be the village of the people of Voya-Nui. It would take time, but the Ta-Matoran’s strange speed made him great at trekking vast distances quickly, and he needed to stretch after his time cooped up in the Voya-Suva. Macku looked over to see Kanohi, grappling across the cliffs. The Po-Matoran was using his launcher to sling from ledge to ledge, pausing only to take in the view of the shore. He was watching for danger, as well as scouting the surrounding area. On the shore Ta-Matoran were standing guard, brandishing their bamboo disks and any other weapons they had carried. They were to ward off any Rahi, they could at least handle that. The thirty seven refugees were tired, hungry, coated in grease and saltwater, but they were alive and free, and that was better than most of the Matoran back home. Hahli … Macku prayed to the Great Spirit as she strained to push the boat, please let Hahli’s spirit endure. Don’t let her break. And then as Macku lifted her head to get air, she heard shouts. Her heartlight began to pulse frantically, and her hands trembled. She wanted … wanted to run, but where to? Ga-Matoran or not, on a good day she couldn’t swim long enough to get far away without her leg, and she was too exhausted to swim at all. But those shouts … she froze there, half-submerged. Her hand reached behind her to her throwing disk, pulling free the weapon of bamboo. She … she didn’t know why she clung to it, perhaps it was some old instinct from before destiny went astray. An instinct that Hewkii resurfaced with the Takea. There were more shouts, and the other Ga-Matoran swam away, heading inland. She just … were those cries from Hewkii, Tamaru, Taipu, Kapura, Kopeke, Hafu - even Hahli? They all blended together in her mind, roaring into her face. “Hey—” Macku swung her throwing disk with all her strength, thumping against someone. “Ouch,” muttered a small blue being with a mask that Macku had never seen before, one who held two long blades in her hands, each silver like the weapons of a a Toa Nuba, or the blade that Macku had found on the journey. . “You … you are a Ga-Matoran?” Macku managed as she flopped over, laying limp against the boat. Her chest heaved up and down, as the short stranger eyed Macku’s lower torso. “Yes. I’m a warrior, name’s Dalu. Piruk spotted you sailing in, I came to investigate. Glad to see some of my sisters from across the waves have spirit left in them.” “Not much,” sighed Macku. “Eh, more than most of your crew. Most of them look like they’ll just lying on the shore, waiting for the tide to drown them. While it looks like life has chewed you up, and you aren’t dead. Come on, big sister, let’s get you out of the water. Looks like you need to rest for a century.” The smaller Matoran shoved Macku upright, though she couldn’t stand, just prop against the boat. “But, the Voya-Suva—” “We’ll help you haul it ashore, once you all have had a chance to breathe. And we really need to discuss what happened to you.” “But … the Makuta?” Macku managed as Dalu handed her the crutches. Macku blankly stared at them, then back at the warrior. “Makuta?” Dalu shook her head, “You northerners keep saying that name with such fear, like se’ll sense you by his name alone. Although, I swear I have heard that name before. Maybe it was something Velika said, he’s always muttering stuff that makes no sense.” Shakily Macku stood up on her crutches, as Dalu slotted her bamboo disk back into Macku’s pack. The two of them began to lumber forward, inching their way to shore. As Macku drew closer to the shore she could see Hewkii wave to her, starting to run to her. She shook her head and he stayed back. Mustering her strength she let out a sigh, before wading towards him and the shore. Dalu glanced back and forth between the two of them, then grunted before sprinting off through the water, running to stand guard among some Ta-Matoran. As Macku stumbled ashore Hewkii tried to catch her, before they both collapsed. “Ugh, my body aches all over,” Hewkii shook his head. “I can’t even see my heartlight,” agreed Macku with a bitter laugh, as they lay there on the rough jagged shore. “”Neither can I, it’s so faint.” Dalu grunted and walked back over to them and held out her blades. The air around them seemed to ripple, and then Macku felt … different. Like her metal skin was crawling, and her arms were denser, but somehow lighter. As they stood back up, Dalu stumbled, before walking back to shore. “How … how did you do that?” Macku called after. “My Chargers. Let me temporarily enhance an attribute of a person, Rahi, or object. Can make a Burnak too heavy to move, or make a killer aware of all reality until they go mad. Used them to make your stamina increase. It’s draining to use them, I need to rest afterwards.” “How … how did you get that artifact?” Was it like the blade she had found? “Always had it, long as I can recall at least. Come on, we all need to rest now. Once you’ve told me your stories, I’ll head back, see if we can help haul your boat to shore. Then we’ll worry about hunting down this Makuta.” Macku nodded shakily at the strangely powerful Matoran. If a mere Ga-Matoran could have the power she claimed to have, even with such a weak body, and if Nuparu and Kanohi could upgrade the bodies of these Matoran too, and then build more weapons like Dalu’s Chargers and the electric blade… Macku smiled faintly despite herself. She hoisted herself back up on her crutches, and she and Hewkii followed after Dalu. The two Matoran did not even need to look at each other, both certain that the other felt a tiny glimmer of hope in their heartlights, one that had endured despite everything.
  4. Wrote another fanfic about Kanohi, taking place in the alternate universe of the Kingdom of the Great Spirit. The last story still happened in the backstory of this tale, it exists in both the Core Universe and the Kingdom Universe. It’s a short tale and the stakes are quite low, it does take place in a peaceful near-utopia after all. Still even in utopia Kanohi remains a vigilante, because Matoran still need heroes, and the Toa don’t protect the Matoran like they once did. Macku is a major character as well, most of the story is in her point of view, I’ve never written her before though so I am interested in feedback. And yes shippers of Hewkii and Macku, I threw you a bone. A small one, but it’s still there. Side note, I actually love that Vakama’s visions were the result of a glitch, to me it means the Matoran are evolving beyond their intended programming, even beyond what Velika meddled with. It gives me a canon starting point to have other Matoran “evolve” beyond the limits of Matoran too. Anyway, the story is below, … In the time, after time, in our glorious Kingdom of the Great Spirit; there was peace. For over ten thousand years all of us survivors of the Matoran Universe had lived in unity, from Toa to Matoran to Vortixx to Skakdi to Dark Hunters. From warlords to arm dealers to mercenaries to heroes and villagers, all of us lived together, all but the worst grudges settled. The Toa no longer protected us, at least not through violence. Now they expanded our island, stretching the kingdom farther across the endless ocean, stabilized the earth, fueled our furnaces, kept the kingdom thriving. Instead the Dark Hunters kept order in the Kingdom, dealing with criminals and rampaging Rahi. And after ten thousand years the Matoran struggled to recall how they had feared the mercenaries, nor remembered when they depended on the Toa to protect them. And even fewer recalled the millennia before the Toa arrived on Mata-Nui, when the Matoran were all alone on the isle, with no protection but bamboo disks. Such brutal painful memories had faded, lost to the ages. But there were still some Matoran who remembered those terrible centuries, when six villages of Matoran were besieged by terrible beasts, isolated even from each other, and the only one they could rely on was their Turaga and themselves. … Macku gazed upon the skyline of the Kingdom of the Great Spirit, its many towers as varied in architecture as they were in residents. Some of the cityscape was nearly organic, the building’s metal frames curved and fluid. Other buildings were blunt and angled, brutalist in their shape. Between them ran hundreds of streets and paths, a spider web of walkways. Walking through the streets were millions of the city’s denizens, from the lanky and thin Vortixx, to the sneering and stout Skakdi. And most common of all were the diminutive Matoran, each at best half the height of a Toa, and each far weaker than any other race in the Kingdom. Macku had climbed up one of the towers near her boat shop, as if she fancied herself a Le-Matoran. The Ga-Matoran looked out from her perch, just taking the sight in. All these people flowing through the streets as the current of the endless ocean. But it was not the ocean. And it was not Ga-Koro. She sighed, massaging her mask. She … this was a perfect world, a perfect kingdom. Even though the death of Great Spirit had forced this kingdom into being, it remained a utopia. It was good. But a part of her … felt restless. Even after ten thousand years. Finally she spotted movement, sweeping through the buildings. She grabbed a telescopic lens and peered through it, spotting Kanohi. The Fe-Matoran vigilante grappled through the city, using the Volo Lutu Launcher built into his arm to swing between skyscrapers. He was covered in masks carved out of wood, which was why he was known as Kanohi. He swung across the city, hurtling above the foot traffic. His route was … seemingly random, it was hard to know where in the Kingdom he would appear on a given day. Still Macku would look out for him, especially in the years when boat travel was forbidden. And in recent days he had been circling over this spot. Waiting, As Macku watched Kanohi grappled towards the base of a building, landing with a tap besides a Ce-Matoran. She was … hard to see this far away, but it looked like she was trembling. Kanohi began to speak to her, his words were obscured by his masks but the Ce-Matoran still seemed to respond. She pointed partway up the skyscraper, and Macku followed the motion to see a small Brakas hooting, waving a Lightstone with their feet. Kanohi nodded and aimed his launcher upwards, before hurling himself into the building. The Brakas bolted as the vigilante grappled upwards, the monkey scrambling up the side of the building on their arms and legs as their tail shifted to wrap around the Lightstone. As Kanohi landed on the side of the building he shoved off, and grappled after the monkey. The monkey ducked down as Kanohi swung after them, letting Kanohi whirl past. Kanohi dug his metal fingers into the side of building, skidding to a halt. Then with a blast of his launcher he resumed the chase, following after the Brakas. Macku stood up and began to lean across the roof, trying to get a good view as Kanohi gained on the monkey. A faint smile drifted on her face, hidden below her mask. Her heartlight’s flashing began to accelerate, and her hands gripped her lens tightly. … Kanohi lurched and ripped through the air, his body yanked about as he hurtled after his Volo Lutu Launcher. The modifications to the launcher were simple, he was no Nynrah Ghost, but it still was triggered by his mere thoughts, and no longer needed to be held in his hand. The vigilante felt his heartlight pound as he missed the Brakas, sailing past. His fingers drummed the air as he twisted around, before firing another gravity well into the skyscraper. With a jerk he was flung after the gravitational pull, latching onto the building. His many wooden masks clinked on the landing, like the wind rustling through the old forests of Le-Wahi. He grappled after the monkey, his carved masks sang around him as they rattled together, and he tried not to smile. It was … it felt good to grapple across the cityscape, even with the danger. The wind whipping around him, his masks clanking; the sensations tickled him. And best of all he was helping the Matoran. In small ways yes, but helping was helping. And it made him feel like he had accessed the power of a Pakari Nuva, strengthening all Matoran. He stopped short perching to the building to catch his breath. It was a brutalist shape, straight flat walls, a burnt orange color, basically an inhabited brick. A few windows were open, that might be useful. And there to the side was the Brakas, pointing and laughing at him as their tail coiled around the Lightstone. They just stood there, laughing, so Kanohi took this time to pull out his lighter. It was a relic from when the Kingdom was called Mata-Nui, a simple device Turaga Vakama had made him that projected small flames. The Fe-Matoran gazed into that fire, focusing on the vision. He could see that Ce-Matoran twirling in a an empty white space, clutching her Lightstone. Then his stomach lurched as he was ripped free of the sight, stumbling as he landed before her as she shakily fled through the tunnels, trying to escape the rising flood of water and mutagen. All she carried with her was the Lightstone, illuminating her path. And as she ran there was a terrible sound, as she looked up to see the tunnels melt away, as well as her Lightstone. There above her was a blunt brick of a building, with a monkey laughing as they clutched her Lightstone. And then suddenly something slammed into the Brakas, dropping the rock and them to the ground. His heartlight throbbing, Kanohi left the vision, to see the Brakas inches from his head, making a silly face. Slowly Kanohi stowed away his lighter, before he released his launcher’s grip on the side of the building. He plummeted, and the monkey laughed, before he swung up his launcher and fired. He flung himself at the monkey, but the beast ducked, letting him once more hurtle past. The autistic vigilante twisted in the air, his fingers wiggling as if he was typing. His launcher fired and hooked him back to the building, before he fired again, swinging forward to the point of skimming the monkey’s flank. The monkey shrieked in surprise and frantically scrambled off the side of the building, while Kanohi once again shot past. The Brakas didn’t stop, scampering as far as they could, but by then Kanohi was perched on an open window. Holding onto the window with his left hand he aimed his launcher, moving slow, just focusing on following the monkey, now that he had a solid perch. before firing into the Lightstone itself. Another sphere of gravitational force flew from the launcher, sticking to the Lightstone. In a rush Kanohi was flung after it, the launcher sucking him to the sphere. With a thump he slammed into the monkey, knocking the Lightstone out of the Brakas’ tail. The stone fell, as did the monkey and Kanohi. The Matoran vigilante twisted in free-fall, scrambling to grab the Lightstone. With a lunge he grabbed it, hoisting it to his chest. As he clutched it tight to his heartlight he aimed his launcher and fired, right before colliding with the ground. As he was hurled horizontally by his grappling his momentum was broken, defusing the worst of his landing. Kanohi landed on his back, smacking into the side of the building. He groaned as he slid the rest of the way down, before landing on all-fours. He hyperventilated as his body quaked, before shakily throwing himself onto his feet. Staggering he headed to the Barajas, which lay in the street, their chest heaving. He leaned over the monkey and it … , the poor Rahi seemed hurt, broke their leg. Without speaking the vigilante began to pull out a splint, and began to bind up their limb. But even as he finished tying up the bandage, Kanohi was sent stumbled from a sharp kick. He tumbled, his body aching, as the Brakas limped off. Kanohi reached his ha d out after after them, before pulling his hand back, and instead turning away. The vigilante limped and staggered over to the Ce-Matoran, handing her the Lightstone. Her hands fluttered excitedly as she held the object, flicking the light on and off. Then with a bow to Kanohi she ran off, almost skipping away. … It was so simple, just chasing a mischievous monkey to get back a Lightstone. But it still left Macku feeling … stronger? It was hard to articulate what it felt like. She continued to peer after the vigilante, Kanohi was leaning against a building, panting. Even the sturdy body of a Fe-Matoran could only handle so much abuse. Then he aimed his launcher towards Macku, and grappled up to her perch. She startled as he smacked into the edge of the building’s roof, before she dived at her fellow Matoran, straining but still managing to drag him onto the rooftop. His masks clinked and clattered against his metal body as well as the roof, like chimes caught in a gentle breeze. “Mind if I … if I rest here a bit, Macku?” He managed to ask as he lay flat on the roof, his heartlight flashing frantically as he panted out of breath. His body was hidden by his wooden armor, but it was clear his body used the body plan of Mata-Nui “Sure,” she nodded, before almost blurted out, “need me to look out for the Dark Hunters?” “Yes.” Macku smiled beneath her mask, and began to peer over the city, sweeping her gaze. As she searched the skyline she asked, “You remember me?” “Of … of course, you were in the … Chronicler’s Company.” Her blue face turned a maroon color beneath her mask, and she rubbed the back of her head, “that was … a very long time ago. I am surprised you remember that.” “How could … anyone forget? Without you and the others the Toa Mata would have … they would have been ambushed, and they wouldn’t have been able to succeed against the … Makuta.” “They didn’t exactly defeat the Makuta then.” “Yes. But without … without you, the Toa Mata would have perished. You saved our island.” Macku turned almost scarlet, before she coughed and asked, “what is it like to see the future?” “It is … confusing. Even if I focus my power with my … lighter, it is a series of emotions more than coherent events. Just flashes of imagery and voices. Still, it’s not a bad thing that the most pressing visions I see these days is a monkey stealing a Lightstone.” His breathing was steadying now. “Why don’t the Dark Hunters believe you can see the future?” “You mean why they think I’m just a … just a fraud who … who sets up problems so I can solve them?” Kanohi started to sit up, “because I am a Matoran. I’m not meant to have powers.” “…Yeah,” Macku sighed, “silly question.” “Asking questions is not bad, just means you want to learn more. Even if you believe you know something for sure, it can be good to question it.” The autistic vigilante continued to breathe a little heavy, even as he sat there besides her on the roof, his fingers rattling against the metal roof. “Suppose you need to know that if you have visions.” “Yes. Though I remember a Ga-Matoran who not only questioned her Turaga’s judgement, but directly disobeyed her to get help when Ga-Koro was under siege by beasts.” “I was forbidden to leave the Koro for ages after that,” she laughed. “And if you had not disobeyed your Turaga, Ga-Koro would have been destroyed,” he stretched, flinching as the motion ached his body, “you were a real hero that day. And not much later you protected the Toa themselves when they journeyed into Kini-Nui.” “…Not many know that. The only ones who seem to remember are Kapura and Hewkii. And they are Toa now, things are … different. And why aren’t you a Toa? Surely if it was anyone’s destiny to transform, it would have been you. You were protecting the Matoran centuries before Takanuva summoned them, journeying between the villages, fighting off Rahi.” “Why am I not a Toa?” He sounded genuinely confused, “what about you?” “…” “At least in my case, it is not my destiny to become a Toa,” he said finally, “I know, I have never experienced a prophecy where I become a Toa.” “Your visions don’t show you everything.” “They show me more than most.” “…Is it true, that one day the island will collapse?” “You heard that from Hewkii?” “Yes. We still see each other … from time to time.” “Oh, but you used to be so close.” “That was over ten thousand years ago.” Before he became a Toa. “…You know, I have a glitch,” he said awkwardly. “Your visions are a different kind of glitch.” They were useful at least, they didn’t hurt. Still she changed the subject, “so, will our island flood?” He closed his eyes beneath his many masks. “The Matoran Universe below is … it has been flooded and dead for over ten thousand and fifty years. And as the tunnels … and caverns beneath our island rust and erode from the saltwater … it weakens our island’s foundation. It is likely that the island will sink below the waves.” “But we will leave the planet before then?” “I have seen visions of cannons … firing capsules to the stars, carrying the people of this kingdom into space … up to that barren world in our sky. So I believe so. But sometimes I see visions of things that only might happen.” “You have seen alternate futures?” “Yes,” she realized he suddenly seemed tired, exhausted. “Do you need any medical attention?” “No. Just … talking is draining.” “Sorry.” “It is okay, just ask simpler questions.” “Did you ever see what would have happened if Matoro had saved the life of the Great Spirit?” “Yes.” “Would … would things be better?” “No.“ “…Then why not defend Matoro?” “I tried.“ “The Matoran are not the best at listening to you, are they?” “No.” “We never were good with Matoran who were unusual. We honored them if they proved useful, but even then, they were alone.” “Yes,” it sounded like there was a tired smile beneath his masks, “It is why I became a vigilante. I knew how isolating Mata-Nui could be. We all needed someone to look out for us, especially us glitched freaks. Seeing a Matoran helping all of the villagers, no matter their Koro, in an era when the Toa were only legends, let alone a Matoran freak … I knew what that could mean.” “…Why do you still do your vigilantism? Try to rescue pets, return lost objects, save Matoran from high falls? Not even the Toa do it anymore.” “Someone has to.” “But it’s not like when we were six isolated villages, surrounded by violent beasts with no Toa or Dark Hunters to protect us. We have protectors, we have peace. There are no monsters here. Why do you risk arrest to try to return something like a Lightstone?” “…” “You miss it, don’t you?” “Give me a moment,” He said shortly. And she nodded, going back to peering over the cityscape, looking for the Dark Hunters “I should not miss it,” he answered, fidgeting with his fingers as he spoke slow, haltingly, “But parts of it I do, at least just a little. But that is not why I stay a vigilante. The Matoran need to have agency, to feel they can rise above their limits, that they can be heroes. They do not need hope now, but they can still need … inspiration. Symbols are important, and a reminder that Matoran are not helpless, that can be useful. Even if I don’t fight Muaka anymore.” “I hardly remember that millennia now, it seems so long ago. Well, maybe my body still remembers what it was like back then.” “What do you mean?” “Just been feeling … I do ‘t know, for the past few centuries I’ve felt … restless?” He nodded, “I understand. You still play Kolhii?” “Not regularly. I don’t think it would be the same though. Is it wrong the miss that single year when we Matoran stood besides the Toa to fight the Makuta, not as equals but at least as allies?” “Nostalgia can be blinding. But you know that.” “Yes. This is a perfect society, a utopia. Why do I crave the old days?” “It was simpler. In bad ways as well as good. Less complexities, just us Matoran, the Toa, and the Turaga. But then Matoran like Takua and Midak were outcasts for their differences, many of us were. ” “Yes. You at least had Vakama.” “…” “Something wrong?” “Me and Vakama … are not close anymore.” “Because he didn’t tell you about the Matoran Universe?” “I had … so many visions of Matoran suffering. If he had only told me what was happening beneath our feet, that I was not a Po- Matoran…” “Nokama should have told me too. I would have probably tried to return to Metru-Nui and gotten killed, but we deserved the respect to know who were are.” “I do understand why the Turaga lied. But it still burns.” “Especially when Vakama could have told you exactly why you never had felt at home in Po-Koro? That it wasn’t just your visions.” “Yes. Mata-Nui was never perfect, the pressure to conform was … everywhere. And those of us who could not…” the autistic vigilante sighed, “the Kingdom is not perfect. It is … better in a lot of ways, but it still has many of the old problems. Matoran who can’t conform still are freaks, still distrusted. Still it is getting better, steadily over time our kingdom grows wiser and kinder. Slowly at least.” “Dark Hunter spotted, flying towards us.” Kanohi nodded and stood up, swaying on his feet, but otherwise alright. He walked to the edge of the building, aimed his Volo Lutu Launcher to a nearby skyscraper of a curved almost egg-like shape, its sides ending in interwoven spikes. Before he launched though, he hesitated. And then he a said, “You know, maybe you are still a Matoran to inspire the others. You were in the Chronicler’s Company - you could make a good vigilante yourself. Just a thought.” And then he grappled away, streaking off through the cityscape, the winged Dark Hunter immediately diving after him. Macku watched the Matoran vigilante grapple away, zig-zagging through the city like the Brakas as the Dark Hunter pursued. She … she could not lie. To be a hero, grappling across the city, helping the Matoran, it was tempting. To reclaim some of her old heroics, even if the dangers of old had passed. But that was good, not having to fight beasts. She could just do small things, make the world better in small ways. That … that wasn’t so bad But if she did become a vigilante, even if she only did small things, she could lose her boat shop, become an outcast. It was something she would need to consider carefully. But as Kanohi grappled off into the distance, the thought lingered. And who knows, maybe it would give her a reason to see Hewkii more often.
  5. The Kohlii Champion and the Captain of the Guard. More photos of the pair on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p/B63TqqUJLxr/
  6. While I'm sorting my pieces and can't get started on any more serious moccing projects, I'm making some additional Matoran using the template I used with Jala. Here's Maku and a random Po-Matoran! You can find more pictures of the individual Matoran on instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p/B7JUvHGJZaY/
  7. So it’s been a while since I have frequented BZPower, but I am getting back into the role playing and had an idea for a ”superhero” Matoran. Well I liked the idea so much I decided to write a little fanfic of this “Kanohi.” (Hey for a superhero, there are worse names than “mask”) It’s just a self contained story taking place after the sinking of Ta-Koro, while Takua and Jaller are searching for the seventh Toa. It was originally going to take place during the Bohrok-Kal saga, but I had already made a sprite of Kanohi with the 2003 Matoran design, and I had misremembered the order of when the Rebuilding took place, so that rewrote the plot. Regardless, enjoy. Of Villagers, Outcasts, and Heroes Word Count: 3090 … In the forests of Le-Wahi, a Matoran sat at the base of a great tree. His metal body was black and orange, a Great Mask of Night Vision was fitted atop his face, and a Volo Lutu Launcher lay hooked to his flank. He was covered in wooden masks, each carved to resemble a Noble Ruru. This wooden armor covered his body almost entirely, and to Rahi with poor vision he nearly blended in with the tree trunks. He was staring at his hand, where he clutched a lit lighter. As the flame burned he stared deeply into the flickering light, searching, probing. And then suddenly he lurched back and forth as images plowed into his face. First he saw Tahu Nuva in the ruins of Ta-Koro, the mighty Toa being poisoned by a strange green reptilian creature and it’s pronged staff, then he was ripped of that sight to a Gukko collapsing in the ice with two Ta-Matoran falling off, like a plow to the gut he could see a trio of Ta-Matoran being chased by a Muaka through a burnt patch of forest. Then everything melted away as the very island seemed to crumble like a dry clump of sand in a Matoran’s fingers. The autistic Matoran gasped out, struggling to steady himself. Then shakily he stood up, balancing himself against the tree. “Okay, okay,” he muttered as he fluttered his wrists, buffering. Even after a thousand years, he did not fully understand the prophetic visions he experienced. But he knew that those images were real, and whether or not they were Mata-Nui’s dreams, he knew they would come to pass, if they had not already. His visions always happened, even if he understood them too late. This was Kanohi. He was said to be a Po-Matoran, but he lacked their raw physical strength, he only had more endurance than the average Matoran, along with his visions. He was an outsider among all of the Koro of the island, a freak like Midak and Takua. But despite being a freak Kanohi was a hero to the Matoran. In the centuries before the Toa arrived, he had gotten to work protecting the Matoran from the Rahi of the island. A vigilante hero of sorts, he traveled across the south of the island only by Volo Lutu Launcher, grappling from tree to tree. His fingers drummed the air. Burnt trees and Ta-Matoran, then that vision might have taken place by the border of Ta-Wahi and Le-Wahi, maybe close to Ta-Koro. And that detail linked it to the vision of Tahu being poisoned. Kanohi didn’t know when any of the visions took place, but Vakama would know more, and he too lived in Ta-Koro. The old Turaga was the only other person Kanohi knew who could see visions, and thus Vakama had been a mentor to him. And if at Ta-Koro was going to be destroyed, the village elder had to know. That was, if the destruction of Ta-Koro wasn’t happening already. And if the village was currently being destroyed, then Kanohi had a duty to hurry there as soon as possible. The Ta-Koro Guard were great warriors, but if Tahu was struggling against … whatever that reptilian beast was, then they needed all the help they could get. Kanohi shook himself off, slipping his lighter into his back. Then the mask-covered Matoran unholstered his Volo Lutu Launcher, and aimed for a nearby treetop. A sphere blasted out of the weapon, affixing itself to the tree. There was a delay, before Kanohi hurtled into the air, his launcher drawn to the sphere like Sol Magnus’s gravity. He landed on the tree with a stumble, almost tackling the branches to hold himself steady. He swayed on the tree’s branch for a time, before shakily aiming his launcher at another tree. He lacked the arboreal reflexes of a Le-Matoran, though he managed. He fired the Volo Lutu Launcher again, ensnaring another branch. He was flung towards it, though this time he missed and sailed past the tree’s limb. Quickly he fired the launcher again, hooking another tree and swinging him upward before he could smack into the rough ground below, Soon enough Kanohi was grappling through the Le-Wahi canopy, making his way towards the border of the two regions of Fire and Air. He whipped through the jungle, speeding through the branches as leaves and twigs smashed into him. His wooden armor absorbed the bulk of the barrage, while his body could endure the rest. The Matoran hero traversed Le-Wahi with as much clumsy speed as he could manage, barreling towards the northeast of this island of Mata-Nui with each hook of his Volo Lutu Launcher. … “Karzahni, we are lost,” muttered Valka, rubbing his head in his hands, “we could be mios away from the others, they could already be in Ga-Koro by now.” Takarda grasped Valka’s shoulder and declared, “don’t give up yet, Toa Tahu will rescue us, if not the Ta-Koro Guard.” “What were the Guard against those beasts? What good was Tahu?” “Tahu and the Guard overcame the Bohrok Kal, and that was before the Rebuilding, and Tahu had even lost his elemental powers at the time. They will defeat these things yet.” “But Ta-Koro is gone now, sunken into the lava. Even when Le-Koro was conquered by the Bohrok, the village still stood. Now we … we have nothing.” In front of them moved Pomahi, a quiet reserve member of the Ta-Koro Guard. His companions were Lava Farmers, while Pomahi had training in fighting Rahi with a throwing disk. He held a shield in one hand and his disk in the other, ready to fling it. The problem was, it was hard to listen to the sounds of this burnt landscape with the two other Ta-Matoran talking. The nearby churning of lava, the thick smoke, the cracking of burnt sticks under their feet, the crumbling trees and the stink of ash, all of that was already overwhelming his senses, but the two of them deafened him worse. Pomahi attempted to clear his throat to get their attention, but Takarda raised his voice with a hearty shake of Valka’s shoulder, “Don’t forget, we built Ta-Koro once, we can do it again. And Tahu will be there to help us this time.” “The Toa are not invincible, they almost fell to the Bohrok Kal. And Tahu has never failed like he did today. And if Tahu was helpless to stop Ta-Koro from sinking, what can we Matoran do? We are just villagers, even after the Rebuilding we were helpless.” “Listen, we Matoran can still do things.” “Not like the Toa. And Tahu failed us. What chance have we got?” “Hey if you do not trust in me, then at least trust in the Toa, they are our saviors sent from Mata-Nui himself. Think about how much better our lives have been since Tahu and the other Toa arrived on the island. We no longer need fear the Rahi—” The two of them thumped into Pomahi, who had stopped moving, his optics searching through the ashen trees. “What is it?” blurted out Valka, his eyes darting frantically about. “Do not know,” answered Pomahi, before suddenly pivoting on his feet and hurling his disk. The disk whirled through the air, smacking into a Muaka. The Muaka hardly flinched, only peering at them and rumbling out a roar. It was massive, its body was yellow and black, its two ears pulled down to make its colossal body sleeker, it had two powerful front legs and treads underneath its torso. The tiger’s treads whirled as it charged at the trio, snarling as it swung its paw at them. Pomahi lunged into the other Ta-Matoran, helping them duck to the side. The three of them tumbled into the black earth, before picking themselves off and sprinting. Pomahi leaned over to grab his throwing disk as they ran, swiping it up. Behind them was the sound of treads grinding into volcanic rock, the Muaka was still pursued them. The tiger roared as it drew closer, its enormous jaws reeling back— Pomahi spun around and threw his disk at the beast, only for the throwing disk to thump harmlessly off the cat. Instead the Muaka chomped down on him, crushing his body in his teeth. With a pop the magnetized mask on his face was squeezed off, flinging it to the side. Pomahi tumbled to the ground, gasping as his mask skidding to the ground off his face. The Ta-Matoran swayed as he stood up, his legs already starting to buckle. Without a Kanohi on their face; no Matoran could stay conscious for long. He staggered, his grooved naked head swerving around, looking for his mask. He could … he could just about … about … there. He stumbled about, trying to waddle over to his mask. But he felt like the life was being drained of him, he … he fell to his knees and began to crawl, all but dragging himself towards them. He was utterly helpless. Elsewhere Valka was sprinting away with Takarda closely behind. Valka’s heartlight beat like an overzealous Le-Matoran drummer, this was … this was how he was going to die. Not to one of those new beasts, not to a Bohrok-Kal or even a normal Bohrok. Just to a normal Rahi. The Matoran were helpless. Takarda was lying to himself if he thought differently. The Ta-Matoran people were now homeless, scattered, and lost. The Ta-Koro Guard had been defeated, and Tahu had failed despite all his elemental powers. Ta-Koro was gone, their home was gone, and he was going to die to a gigantic cat. Then something whirled through the air past Valka, he startled, only for a Matoran to fly in from the side, hooking his arm around a Valka’s waist. The Ta-Matoran was dragged away, sent tumbling to the side of the Muaka’s rampage. As Valka lay in a heap Kanohi aimed his Volo Lutu Launcher up in front of Takarda. With a press of the trigger he launched the sphere, before being sucked in after it. As he arced by the Ta-Matoran he e tended his arm, scooping up Takarda and carrying him to the side. “Kanohi?” Takarda managed to say as he staggered up, “listen, there is another Ta-Matoran; Pomahi, I think he lost his mask—” Kanohi did not reply, only flinging himself after the Muaka with a blast of his launcher. Takarda watched as Kanohi slammed into the back of the Muaka’s head, making the tiger buck. It began to lurch about, trying to swat at the passenger now on its back. Kanohi was a bit dazed by the impact, but he endured. The Muaka was trying to knock him off, so he just held tight, his optics searching about as the tiger lashed out. Then with a sudden thrust the Muaka butted him off, leaving Kanohi to tumble off his back. He landed on all-fours, panting for breath, before firing his Volo Lutu Launcher. Immediately he hurtled through the air, narrowly avoiding the Muaka’s bite. Then Takarda felt a metallic hand grasp his own, and he was dragged upright to face Pomahi. “He already saved you?” laughed Takarda, “Mata-Nui provides.” “Who is that?” asked Valka, staring after Kanohi as he led the beast away. “Kanohi, a vigilante hero who protects the Matoran through the jungles of Le-Wahi. While the Ta-Koro Guard and the Ussalry remain in their villages, he traversed the south, rescuing travelers and helping the villages in its reaches.” “Like Takua and the rest of the Chronicler’s Company?” “Exactly. They even say he has visions like Turaga Vakama.” “Guess there had to be something special with him, for him to fight a Muaka.” “Can we get to safety now?” asked Pomahi. “Yeah. You … you think he will be okay?” “He’s survived worse,” shrugged Pomahi, before leading them away. … Kanohi grappled across the craggy landscape, maneuvering across the volcanic terrain. He stumbled as he landed, the raw heat and fumes was all-consuming, left his unsteady and uncoordinated on his landings. He was no Ta-Matoran, and thus had no protection from the heat. Not that Takua was comfortable in Ta-Wahi either. Takua; now that was a Matoran. Someone far better than Kanohi. It wasn’t something the vigilante wallowed in, it was just a simple fact. Takua was just as much as a outsider and freak as Kanohi, but unlike Kanohi Takua was not a bandage. Kanohi saved lives, fought Rahi, but he didn’t change things, didn’t improve Mata-Nui. Just kept the Matoran alive and safe.” But Takua? He had gathered the six Toa Stones and brought the Toa to this island, without him the Matoran would still live in fear of the Makuta. There would be no Rebuilding, no unified Mata-Nui, no real trade between the villages. There was a reason Takua had been appointed the Chronicler, while Kanohi had not been. Kanohi meanwhile had built up enough of a lead to think. Spying a particularly rocky region he fluttered free hand, he knew how to fight the Muaka. As he landed in front of a crag he stopped, catching his breath as he aimed his Volo Lutu Launcher. As the Muaka barreled down upon him he launched himself away, leaving the tiger to smack into the pillar of stone. The Muaka staggered from the impact, before Kanohi called out, “Not the Brightest Lightstone in Onu-Koro, are you?” The Muaka snarled and charged at him again, only for Kanohi to launch himself away, and the beast to slam into another mound of rocks. “Wow, I was not sure that you would understand that. Not that I am saying you are are a Kohlii-head, well I suppose I am, but that was not my point.” The Rahi smashed into a rock pulled after him, but Kanohi once more launched away. “What was my point?” muttered Kanohi, who had lost his train of thought. By now the Muaka was tiring, it’s joints were bruised and battered, and it was stumbling about in confusion. “Oh right, just, I am impressed that you understood that metaphor. I struggle with them personally. Or maybe you just understood the tone. Which again, I also struggle with.” He was being sincere. Kanohi liked to ramble off to the Rahi and Bohrok he faced, gave him practice in social situations, made him less of an awkward fool. The Muaka meanwhile slammed head first into another pillar of rock, and stagger under its own weight, before collapsing. It lay faint, staring lazily up at the sky. Kanohi approached the beast, looking it over. It didn’t seem to have an Infected Kanohi, so it was not a servant of the Makuta, just a beast. He nodded and then began to grapple away, heading back towards the Ta-Matoran trio. … Valka was silent, as Takarda chatted to Kanohi. The Po-Matoran kept to the trees above them, leading them towards Le-Koro. He didn’t say much, just nodded or told the trio to change direction. “Seriously, what is it like seeing the dreams of Mata-Nui?” “If they are his dreams, they are confusing.” “What do you mean, if they are his dreams?” “I do not know what they are, only that fire focuses them.” “Well what else could they be?” “I do not know. Tell me more about the three beasts that attacked you. You said they all carried staves? They could think then?” “Who cares about that, Tahu will deal with them.” “He was poisoned, he may take time to recover.” “Ah he is the mightiest of the Toa, he can endure.” Kanohi did not reply, so Takarda smiled with confidence. But besides him Valka asked, “why did you decide to become a Toa.” “I am no Toa,” Kanohi said sharply, and Valka almost flinched with the raw emotion that had boiled out of Kanohi’s mouth.” “Yes but … in the centuries before they came, well, it sounds like you tried to emulate the legends. You rescued Matoran, fought Rahi, saved us even before we were united. Why? You were an outcast, all but banned from Po-Koro. You were that Po-Matoran, right? Dece?” “That was my name. I don’t use it now, nor should you.” “Right but, why did your risk your life?” “There were no Toa then, someone had to.” “But why you? Why an outsider who had attacks in the city streets of Po-Koro?” “…Symbols are important. A Hau means the Great Spirit Mata-Nui, it shows a place is shielded from harm. The symbol of a masked hero with special powers and a strange tool; it could make the Matoran feel less alone. Like Mata-Nui wasn’t ignoring them.” “By why you?” “Because I was alone,” Kanohi answered, “can we stop talking, I do not mean to be rude, but it’s exhausting, and I need to focus on my aim.” “Of course,” answered Pomahi for the group. It was easier to speak up for someone else’s sake than for his own. So the three Toa-Matoran and their protector trekked on through the jungle, Kanohi still dwelling on his visions. Ta-Koro had fallen, he could already heart the drums booming to warn the other villages. Kanohi would have to travel to the other villages soon, help them prepare. These strange beings, three of them had sunken Ta-Koro. And in recent weeks Kanohi had suffered visions foretelling the return of the Makuta. If these beasts were his doing, then the Toa would soon begin great peril. And then there was the matter of this relic Takua had found. According to Pomahi, the Chronicler had discovered a strange Mask of Light; that foretold the arrival of a seventh Toa. And that mask was discovered right before the three reptilian beasts attacked. Takua and Jaller had left with the mask before the attack, so it seemed likely that the Makuta had been searching for them. It would take time to catch up with the duo, and Kanohi’s face-blindness would not help much, but he would try to track them down. He doubted he could help on the quest, but he would do what he could, even if that was only to keep the Koro they passed safe.
  8. Chef is a Ko-Matoran who dedicated his existence to cooking the fauna and plant-life of Spherus Magna after the Re-Formation. No one is really sure why, considering the Matoran don't really eat things, but he's really passionate about it. Other Matoran have tried to understand his art, but eventually ended failing at both getting the concept and executing it right. They usually just get yelled at and go home with nothing but questions about the grumpy guy. Chef carries a sharpening stick around as well as at least always one electro-blade, which he likes to sharpen whenever he has time. He wears a black powerless Ruru. On top of his regular Matoran pieces, Chef added-up an extra bit of armor to cover him a little more, especially when cooking. Unlike most Ko-Matoran, Chef absolutely dislikes cold environments, saying he hates everything that is frozen. He prefers to wander around the planet to try and create more food-related creations. "It's burnt! You burnt the bloody thing!" -Chef to Macku The build of this Matoran is fairly simple, with very basic articulations and limbs. The top is obviously based on the 2003 Matoran Sets. The bottom is custom but still very basic. The color scheme is White for the most, with touches of Black, to emulate Gordon Ramsay's general look in a kitchen: White jacket, black pants, and with an extra piece of armor on the front to replace the apron. More pictures of this little guy here: (I'm not familiar with Bzpower's gallery thing so uhhh here have this funny link) https://twitter.com/Nahunicle/status/1122493173375410176
  9. Ok as I'm getting ready to work on some Bionicle pixel art and sprites projects in the near future I have found myself with a puzzle, in MNOG 1 and 2 most Matoran homes are dome shaped and even in Mask of Light the Ta-Matoran in the attack on Ta-Koro were huddled up inside a dome hut. This got me thinking on is this common throughout the Matoran Universe as I can't recall Metru Nui having dome shaped buildings besides the Moto Hub and the Great Temple where the Toa Suva is. Anyone else know of examples of Matoran homes? I think in MNOG 1 Vakama's chamber was within a building built out of the wall and was more boxy due to this with a classic "Stone Door Frame" like you'd see in the Flintstones. I think that they might move in another direction of Architecture on Sphereus Magna but really what are some good examples of nondome homes?
  10. I see them as Matoran buddies and as Takua becomes Takanuva, and then a year later (not counting the flashbacks years, because thats what they are, flashbacks)Jaller becomes a Toa Inika, and then a Toa Mahri. And Takanuv returns in 2008 as the "Shadow Takanuva" Imagine how cute it would be if they both met eachother, now both as Toa.
  11. Meet Fehu, Matoran of Fire and proud warrior! More to see here: https://twitter.com/Nahunicle/status/1124702441403047936
  12. Hello, everyone. Up until recently I was under the impression that the Voya Nui Matoran sets all came with pearl light gray weapons instead of flat silver ones, but after looking closely at my own sets and sets my friends have owned, the colors appear to be a bit irregular. For one thing, one Balta set has flat silver weapons and one Garan set appears to have come with one weapon in each color. Can anyone (preferably in Europe) check their original sets to see if there are any such irregularities? Thanks!
  13. Created a CCBS version of Matoran Jaller with Digital Designer. His design is based on that of the 2015 Protectors, but with a shield on the back instead of a gearbox. (I'm sorry if the picture is a bit pixelated).
  14. Ganto

    The Story of Lakai

    Lakai is a term created by myself to describe the feeling of "Love" in the BIONICLE universe. This story takes place in an alternate Mata Nui where the events, such as the Bohrok, the fall of Ta-Koro, it has a lot of space in between. Also some Matoran are gender swapped, and some extra characters are introduced such as Ganto and Vika. This specific story is in between the Bohrok, and the Bohrok-Kal. It uses a bit of lore from my own comics and some old BIONICLE community lingo like "Karz" and such. I hope you enjoy. The Story of Lakai This story is updated regularly, but I will not be posting the notifications of updates here. Please join my discord server for updates to all my content such as MOCs, Comics and more. This is a discussion topic as the actual story is in a Google Document, so comments are welcome.
  15. This fanfiction is for VBBN, I'm sorry I didn't have it out in time, but I'm out of practice with writing and my life was a bit hectic as I finished my Internship and started a new job. ________________________________________________________________________________ ‘A united land under a Red Star, Gold and White, Bronze and Blue, The Hunted must finish their hunt, To the Hero’s lair on the Mountain of Monsters, Lest a Maker become a Destroyer, As the Poisoners became poisoned’ Danu looked over the text on the scroll handed to her by Aode. She thought about the agori’s advice about claiming her own fate, and not ending up like Yxaaz. Danu could remember his former lucidity only as a distant memory. Danu was the jewel of his eye, before it was filled with mad visions from the Great Beings. She rolled up the scroll and put it into it’s case, now was not the time to figure out a future bogged down in the past, but plan it. The young glatoran looked over the canopy of jungle; Danu stood over a ridge that defined the end of the local Sand tribe city’s territory and beginning of the Earth tribe’s realm. She figured that Poisoners probably meant the Vorox, or maybe whatever the source of the Dreaming Plague was. But Danu guessed that the recent spy reports of an unknown engineer amongst them suggested the builder that Yxaaz’s prophecy. She sighed as she thought of her summons to court the previous day to exam the prophecy after wrecking the training arena (again) an yet still she couldn’t believe that she had been summoned by order of the Elemental Lord, and she thought of the throne the warlord sat upon; black basalt placed on top a crop covered barrow in the depths of the royal vault of the Earth tribe. Danu’s mother had told her that the Great Being responsible for Yxaaz’s condition was buried beneath it, and Danu wasn’t sure she doubted it. Danu prepared herself, looking up the last star that now hung in the final shadows of the night sky. She had never known Spherus Magna, only Bota Magna. But she didn’t care about that, the prophecy said great danger would occur if the Hunted did not finish their hunt, whatever that meant; and the Vorox liked to have things to hunt. She took in a deep breath, the Elemental Lord had order that her tribe to only spy and gather information, not to directly interfere with the affairs of the other glatoran, skrall or vorox. But Danu had listened to Aode, who had told her of tales of heroism and honour before the war, especially those of Danu’s parents. She knew she would be in trouble at least, but she knew she had to fallow Yxaaz’s prophecy. It was then that the blast of lightning blasting in the forest, and Danu knew she had to go. She pulled out her twin kama and waved them at the least steep slope of the ridge. The glatoran focused her will through them like she had done so many times before; the slope burst forth a new ridge along it’s dorsal edge, wide enough for her to walk down and shallow enough for her to get down safely. She rushed over and started to run down it; all the times she had wrecked the arena had been worth it. At least they were until her third footstep, she felt the ridge collapse; Danu knew she hadn’t compacted it enough as it turned to dust under her feet, and later head, an she now started to tumble down hill. She really didn’t want the Element Lord to find her now, both for punishment for disobedience, and the shame of mucking up like that after all of her training. But Danu knew not of the wisdom far above her, hidden in the last star of night, one of sanguine light; The Red Star. ________________________________________________________________________________ In the depths of the Red Star two matoran ran from Krestora, and some of their victims. One was green with secondary brown colouration and a rose red mask, the other was a horrid mixture of lime green and bright saffron. “Fanua is going to panic when we don’t come back with Mavrah.” Complained the more horrid of the two matoran, his armour dented and scratched from lost aeons, and his mask a foul tusked thing with no equal. His companion stopped for a second to think. “That might be good thing Lerun,” Replied the red mask matoran “He might not worry about us.” Lerun looked back at him for a second and shook his head. “Ruaun, I don’t understand you at times.” Lerun retorted before stopping himself and letting his companion overshoot as Ruaun restarted his run. Then latter matter yelp in surprise as Lerun started fiddling with the wall “Where is that fault?” “I know it might be fun to mess around, but even I think this is a bad time” Exclaimed Ruaun, Lerun waved his concern away. “There’s an old fault that was supposed to be used by a creation of the Great Beings” Explained Lerun, “A failsafe, some sort of proto-toa or something. If the Krestora went mad, which they have, it would awaken and take them out and repair them.” Ruaun snorted, “Good strategy, let ‘em muck up the place and then deal with the Krestora.” “Who do you think their first victim was?” Replied Lerun, “They knew the guardian would ‘deal with’ them, so those buggers dealt with him” Ruaun made a small disappointed sound, “You’ve seen it actually, it’s the one with the two giant scissors for arms and twenty tentacles for a head.” Ruaun than mad a small excited sound, and that worried Lerun. “You mean Sergeant Snippety-Snips?” Exclaimed the Bo-Matoran, Lerun could only sigh in confirmation. “With the blue and silver? And the fire breathing? And the –“ *CLICK* “Oh, you unlocked the door?” Ruaun inquired, Lerun shook his head. “That wasn’t m-“ *Click* Both matoran looked back the way they had come from; Standing at the end of the corridor was a tall silver and blue figure, its hands now distorted into an over sized set of spiderish legs and the original pair of legs twisted and shrunk to serve as arms. The two matoran looked at each for a second before dashing; even Ruaun knew that Sergeant Snippety-Snips was not safe to be around. They ran down several corridors, zigging and zagging along them as the monster chased them with the constant click of it’s unnatural gait. It was slower than them, but every slip and crash in their haste cost the duo some time. But as Lerun and Ruaun started to loop on themselves they gained some distance from it. Their minds were in a rush, that the sound of panicking voices was completely missed. *Crash* Lerun crashed into a grey matoran with a mask of healing and Ruaun into a blue matoran with a Kanohi Arthon. Behind those two still stood their last Matoran companion, a stark white individual glaring with shock at the four matoran. “First our base was taken and the Turaga kidnapped, now you two are just fooling around!” whispered the still standing matoran, although his tone and style it sounded more like a shout. “You were supposed to find supplies! And where is Mavrah! You sold him out didn’t you!” Still quiet but an increased desperation was on the voice, as the four matoran got up and tried to silence their companion. And then the white matoran stopped, his eyes aghast. The monsterous form that had been chasing his compatriots overshadow all of them. They stood still for a second before they tried to run away, but the monstrosity slammed one of it’s spiderous hands down, trapping them all. Most of the matoran tried to squirm free, expect the blue one who had flicked out a wrist mounted blade and was furiously trying to stab the abomination. It didn’t seem to notice, only letting down some tentacles the smoulder from the ooze they secreted, a drop landed on Lerun’s armour, stinging him. “I always thought the monster that would kill me would be of my own design” droned the grey matoran as a tentacle slithered towards him, “Don’t worry Ketsa, just because it happened once doesn’t mean I’ll let you go down again.” Declared the blue matoran, as she jabbed her blade harder than before. The only reaction was the gigantic hand pressing down harded, crushing the matoran. “No” Said Lerun, “I won’t die!” Yelled the Blue Matoran, “So this was their plan?” Moan the white matoran, Ruaun gave a desperate laugh, “So it is” declared Ketsa. ________________________________________________________________________________ Elsewhere, a sole Skrall stood on a field of sand, surrounded by grinning fiends. He thought of surviving the Core War, escaping the Baterra, the glory of Roxtos and the Victory at Atero. How the Stone Tribe had fallen, how he had fallen. Tuma was gone, the greatest tribe scattered and world now infested with foul invaders. He looked down at the peg-leg he had been given by these ‘Skakdi’, their leader had thought it would be funny to give a cripple an experimental micro-lance for a prosthesis, better than the flail he had also been entrusted with. “Now, I, Thasikann, the magnificent” Boasted the leader of these savages, his brass-like armour a poor simulacrum of actually gold with his asymmetric and broken horn hanging a garland of withering flowers and the remains of small animals. “Declare that to celebrate my ascension to being the most powerful Skakdi of All Time, my grand games will be finish with a battle-royale between our greatest enemies to earn the honour of battling my champion, Ziskann!” The Skrall smirked as the arena stands filled with the cheers of Thasikann’s followers towards their favourite, tall and in the colours of the setting sun upon winter snow, she made a dashing figure, especially with those menacing ruby eyes. As she scanned the competitors; the skrall, a small beige and black Agori like being with vibrant blue eyes, a dark green warrior with sharp claws and a sharp gaze, a fish monster of some sort (which seemed to speak in obscenities), and an individual who was either a tiny Vorox or an overgrown Zesk. When her gaze reached the skrall, the intensity increased and he stared back; at least in his mind their rivalry was set. Everything he had been thrown against today was easy compared to what the gazed promised. “From the deserts of Spherus Magna,” Continued Thasikann “A scorpion horror and a basalt Skrall!” The cheers turned to jeers directed at him and the sand tribe competitor “From the depths of the nightmares and Irnakk’s caverns, a Zyglak!” The boos became focused on the fish monster, and while the Skrall couldn’t understand it, this Zyglak was clearly using even fouler language, “To the foot hills of the dreaded Mountain, Suufiji of Xia!” Suufiji merely made a hand gesture towards the crowd, the increased passion in their insults indicated that is wasn’t a friendly gesture. “And finally, from the heights of Metru Nui: Akhmou, the treacherous!” The crowd went silent for a second, confused by the this individual’s seeming importance. Thasikann took a breath in, “a servant of the recently deceased Makuta!” The crowd quickly roared with their rage at that name, with a visceral passion. The Skrall wondered if any of these beings were of any real threat to Thasikann or his skakdi horde; more likely political theatre that was either orchestrated by arrogant leader or manipulating fools. The Skrall assumed both were true. “And now, let the Games begin!” _________________________________________________________ I would like to thank VBBN for giving me his prompt, Tufi Piyufi for arranging the contest and Tolkien for some help with the names.
  16. Mazak is a travelling trader. Everything he carries is up for sale or trade. He prefers trading objects instead of selling them, as his goal isn't to get rich, but to experience as many interesting and unique items as possible before swapping them for something else that's new and exciting. He lives by the motto "everything is for sale and everything has a price". A small tablescrap Matoran that grew out of me fiddling with parts to solve an issue that I ultimately didn't, but ended up making a compact custom torso that fit a Matoran build well. Further images on Flickr. Comments and criticism appreciated.
  17. A trio of Matoran MOCs I built recently. Pudu is an ever-cheerful Po-Matoran Kohlii champion. The only thing that can ever darken his mood is when he is reminded of the fact that as an athlete, he will be forever stuck in Huki's shadow. Kovi is by far the most efficient miner in all of Onu-Koro. This quality is his saving grace, as it is the only reason why the other Matoran tolerate his constant grumbling and mean demeanor. Lawi is a Le-Koroan musician who keeps running late for performances because he's always out vine-swinging in the deep jungles of Le-Wahi instead. Flickr Albums: Pudu Kovi Lawi
  18. Xenia by Artemiy Karpinskiy, on Flickr Xenia here is an albino matoran OC belonging to my good friend Zippy​. She’s in charge of a small island in the Southern Chains known as Woomera, where one of rare Energized Protodermis pools is situated. As such, the island was target for many powerful groups and individuals in the past. The Woomerans are the toughest, most hard-boiled Matoran in the universe, and fight off these threats without need of a Toa or any of the taller races. When Makuta Miserix was assigning his brothers and sisters to different regions of the Matoran Universe, he have sent Makuta Andrax, literally the worst candidate for the job, to oversee the Woomera island. At first Xenia stuck with him to protect from the dangers of the island, reasoning that if this guy accidentally dies the Woomera will get razed by Brotherhood’s armies, but in time she grew attached to the big oaf.
  19. The Matoran variant of my self-MOC, Poraru. Poraru was a craftsman in a small village on one of the many unnamed islands dotting the Southern Isles. Though kind-hearted and witty, Poraru was more introverted than most Po-Matoran. While for those Matoran leading less dangerous, more comfortable lives in the lands to the North avoided adventure and peril, those living in the Southern lands more frequently struck out to explore, thus Poraru had many adventures before eventually becoming a Toa. Flickr album All comments appreciated!
  20. Those two are twins, indistinguishable from each other on the first glance. You can discern them by their eyes and heartlights, as well as their polar opposite demeanors, with one being collected and serious, and the other jovial and playful. They both serve Makuta Phobrahk. Adhara, Isida and Phobrak are the OCs of my good friend Gunmetalgold.
  21. Hoi, the Ga-Matoran fisherwoman, takes her pet Moke for a fishing trip in the early evening. It is the warm season on Mata Nui, and fish are bountiful. Fortune smiles upon Hoi, as she encounters an elusive and dangerous Tawa fish. She will not let this opportunity pass her by, and with her well-trained Moke, the Tawa soon falls. It was a good day.
  22. Here are my current and long-term wants. Sections near the top are more desired. Rahkshi Kraata: 6x Trans-Orange Kraata, Stage 1 Ussanui Kraata: 1x Shadow Kraata, Stage 1 1x Shadow Kraata, Stage 2 1x Shadow Kraata, Stage 3 1x Shadow Kraata, Stage 4 1x Shadow Kraata, Stage 5 1x Shadow Kraata, Stage 6 Toa Mata: 1x Gold Pakari 1x Gold Hau 1x Gold Kakama 1x Gold Miru 1x Gold Akaku 1x Gold Kaukua Toa Nuva: 1x Protodermic Pakari Nuva 1x Protodermic Hau Nuva 1x Protodermic Kakama Nuva 1x Protodermic Miru Nuva 1x Protodermic Akaku Nuva 1x Protodermic Kaukua Nuva Materials for Buildable Tohunga/Matoran Project: Head = 32579 Foot = 32576 Chest = 32577 Left Arm = 32578 Right Arm = 40507 Torso = 44810 Back = 44137 Socket = 32174 Bohrok Arm = 41670 Thigh = 44809 Shared Parts: Color Total Count Head Light Grey 12 Head Dark Grey 13 Feet Yellow 2 Feet Red 12 Feet Dark Blue 2 Feet Blue 2 Feet Black 30 Feet White 2 Chest Red 4 Chest Medium Blue 2 Chest Tan 2 Chest Black 3 Chest White 2 Left Arm Red 4 Left Arm Medium Blue 2 Left Arm Tan 2 Left Arm Black 3 Left Arm White 2 Right Arm Red 4 Right Arm Medium Blue 2 Right Arm Tan 2 Right Arm Black 3 Right Arm White 2 Torso Tan 3 Torso White 3 Torso Red 6 Back Tan 3 Back White 3 Back Red 6 Socket Tan 6 Socket White 8 Socket Red 18 Socket Black 16 Bohrok Arm Tan 6 Bohrok Arm White 6 Bohrok Arm Red 12 Thigh Black 16 Thigh White 2 Thigh Red 6 Pakari Medium Blue 1 Pakari Red 1 Pakari Black 3 Miru Red 2 Kakama Red 2 Kakama Black 2 Kaukau Trans-blue 1 Kaukau Trans-black 1 Matatu Blue 1 Matatu Black 2 Matatu White 1 Ruru Black 1 Ruru Red 1 Hau Black 1 Huna Black 3 Komau Orange 1 Mahiki Orange 1 Exo-Toa Armor: 6x Exo-Toa sets, complete Boxor: 2x Boxor, complete
  23. Whetu and Onupi are two very different, yet very similar Matoran. Whetu is a miner, a grunt worker toiling in the vast mines of Onu-Wahi, digging for Lightstones, protodermis and other valuable minerals. He's down-to-earth with the heart and mind of a worker, much like the countless other miners he works with. Onupi, on the other hand, has more in common in terms of personality with Ko-Matoran than his Onu-Matoran comrades. Not much of a speaker, Onupi is Onu-Koro's most skilled surveyor, and his name is known across Mata Nui for never making a mistake and always finding the best veins. Not he, nor the other Matoran, and not even Turaga Whenua know that this isn't talent, but rather a glitch that allows him to minimally utilize his Kanohi Akaku, a feat no other Matoran is capable of. Despite being so different, Whetu and Onupi are bound by a friendship unlike any on the island of Mata Nui. For outsiders, it might often seem like they hate each other, as constant insults aimed at their different positions fly between them, but it's all in good fun and their way of communicating. They would be willing to die for one another, their friendship more like brotherhood. --- This theme of "similar yet different" continues in their builds. They have similar body shapes and sizes, however Whetu's torso is Slizer-based, Onupi's is fully custom using small Technic doodads. Whetu's drill has a working gear function, and his security frame still allows minimal head motion, and he can actually see out of it too. Onupi, when carrying his tablet "wears" his thumb on his back, concealed by the cape. Flickr album: https://flic.kr/s/aHsmbUEzt6 As always, comments and criticisms much appreciated!
  24. Yet another pair of Matoran. Tarn is a brash and hot-headed lava surfer even by Ta-Matoran standards. He has an insatiable need to perform, achieve and be the absolute best. At everything. Lava surfing is his passion, and he has become obsessed with the myth and legend of Lhii that Turaga Vakama occasionally tells the villagers. His fixation has grown to such a level that his goal is to surpass the fabled skill of Lhii, and to scour the lava falls of Ta-Wahi to find any remnant of the legendary all-yellow surfer, such as his mask. The Turaga has tried time and again to dissuade him, however Tarn often disregards the "ramblings of that old coot". Hoi is a much less rebellious Matoran. In fact, she is a completely everyday Ga-Matoran fisherwoman who shares most of her kin's traits in calmness and wisdom. She'd be mostly of no interest, save for her intense (and mutual) dislike of Macku. Such rivalries are rare among the Matoran of Water, but when the affections of a particularly handsome Po-Matoran Kohlii champion are at stake... well, we've all seen what the sea is like during a storm. --- Having built this pair just a day after my Onu-Matoran due, Whetu and Onupi, a bunch of similarities have arisen in their bodies. Hoi is, again, a Slizer-based build, using a lot of parts from Scuba, Her body is less gappy and better proportioned than Whetu's, the previous Slizer-based Matoran. I'm quite happy with her functional (!) fishing rod. Tarn's body is custom, based primarily on orange Bohrok inner-head pieces (found in the Boxor set). His proportions are a tad off, but I really wanted to incorporate the mata red Pahrak-Kal shield into his torso. His lava surfboard is mainly based on the MNOG appearance, with color changes and some creative liberty. Flickr Album for more images: https://flic.kr/s/aHsmeA5gRt I welcome all comments and criticism!
  25. While taking photos of various Bionicle things, I thought it would be cool to try to take some iconic pictures of Matoran on Mata Nui. After some cleaning up and editing, here are the results: High-resolution album here Wind-sprint through Le-Wahi Hunting in the Drifts Inventing the Boxor Koli Practice Exploring Naho Bay Patrol in the Charred Forest
×
×
  • Create New...