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  1. So I wrote another Kanohi story because of course I did. This one takes place in the core universe and the kingdom, a little before the two timelines split. The premise for this is the hurt some Matoran feel as the Turaga reveal the true history of their people, as well as the disconnect some of the Matoran have with the so-called city of legends. So this is a story about the fallout of the Turaga revealing the truth about the 2004-2005 storyline. Anyway, without further ado, enjoy. The Willing Exiles … ”You … you sure we should go?” Ramaka asked, looking at the two Ga-Matoran. The sun was beginning to set, and the tent they were taking shelter in was rustling in the wind. “We have to. Those stories the Turaga shared, they aren’t us. Maybe there were once, maybe they never were. We don’t belong in some underground ruin, working like cogs in a lifeless machine.” Gajaga spat, as she packed her satchel. It was woven of faded plant fibers, contrasting against her blue metal chassis. “Maybe the rest of the stories will—” “—Tell us just how much they lied?” Gajaga sighed, “no. I prefer to have at least some fond memories of Turaga Nokama.” She began to wrap up her sleeping bag. “She’s right,” Cemahri reached over, grasping Gajaga’s hand, and the other Ga-Matoran blushed beneath her mask, “I … to know the Turaga lied for over a thousand years, about the most basic things. No, we cannot go with them. And … it’s better we don’t come. We don’t belong with the other Matoran. This is a chance for us.” Ramaka nodded, though did not match her eye contact. The two Ga-Matoran pushed aside their bags then, before embracing their companion. “Hey, we will get through this together,” Gajaga said, “we spent centuries on this island, we know it by heart. We can flourish in our beloved island home.” “We … we do have our unity to each other,” Ramaka smiled nervously, “okay, sisters, let us return to our real home.” The three Matoran picked up their bamboo disks and slug their satchels over their shoulders, before slipping out into the jungle. Their long arms pushed aside the ferns and branches, their big feet waded through the swamp. They would not leave Mata-Nui, not for some underground ruin that was likely infested by spiders the size of Toa. This was their home, not some broken city. … Kanohi held his lighter to his right arm, softening the orange and black metal. The lighter was infused with the element of Fire, probably a relic from when Turaga Vakama was a Toa. Because apparently Kanohi’s mentor had lied to him about everything. “There,” Nuparu said, “it should be almost in place now.” Kanohi was welding a Volo Lutu Launcher to his arm, as Nuparu fitted the tool’s machinery to mesh with his biomechanical body. The left arm was already complete, now was just the right. The two of them were in a tent this night, the stars mostly shone in the sky despite the many torches around Kini-Nui. Thousands of Matoran were camping in the jungle, as they built ships to sail though the underground Silver Sea. The sounds of hammers pounded under the stars, as the Matoran prepared to return to their home. A home only the Turaga remembered, As Kanohi welded the tool to his arm, Nuparu spoke up, “So, did the Turaga ever tell you—” “—No.” Kanohi answered quickly, and his breath became harsher. His foot began to thump against the floor, and his fingers began to drum against his lighter. The Fe-Matoran’s face was hidden, he wore wooden masks all over his body, as a sort of armor. Each mask was carved to resemble a Ruru, the Noble Mask of Night Vision. And his true mask was a Great Ruru, though he could not use it. Still both were appropriate, his power allowed him to light the darkness of the future. But clearly his visions were helpless to the past. “It’s … frustrating, isn’t it? If we had been able to use the technology of Metru-Nui to help us, our time in exile could have been so much easier. Just having Kanoka instead of bamboo disks…” “There are many reasons the truth is frustrating.” Kanohi stared deeply into his lighter, trying not to think too hard about Vakama. The fire swirled and lifted about, as he looked the flames cracked and turned to embers, and those sparks became the stars in the sky. As he stared at those stars he heard and noise and turned to see an utterly barren island of rock. The rocky crag towered above him, before shattering into an avalanche. Each tumbling rock splashed into the sea, before rising as a fleet of hovercrafts. Kanohi hooked a cabin and grappled over to a hovercraft, flinging above the waves as Matoran wearing linen clothes waved. “You okay? You seemed a bit dazed?” Kanohi startled as Nuparu’s voice cut through the blaze, and he looked away, “Just had a vision,” he answered, “maybe of us sailing to Metru-Nui.” “At least a Vakama didn’t lie to us about that,” Nuparu offered, but Kanohi could not crack a smile, “your visions are real, just like the Turaga’s was. And incredible gift.” “He lied to me plenty about my visions,” muttered Kanohi, “though I do know why. It doesn’t make things easier however.” Then there was a shriek from outside the tent, as a Ga-Matoran called out, “Kraata!” Immediately Kanohi turned off his lighter, and stowed it away. “Is my arm ready?” “Left one is for sure, but the right one isn’t done.” “We will continue it later,” nodded Kanohi, before sprinting out of the tent, his large feet stomping vines and roots, as he hurried out he raised his left arm, and from the Volo Lutu Launcher built into his forearm he fired a strange rippling sphere. A ball of pure gravity. It latched onto a tree before ripping him from the ground and hurling him towards it. Kanohi hurtled through the air, landing on a tree. From there he fired his launcher again, flinging himself after the ball of gravity. In this way he grappled through the jungle, searching among the tents and Matoran. As he flew his armor clattered together, like branches singing in a thunderstorm. A number of Matoran were fleeing from the northern part of the jungle, the Kraata might be there. As Kanohi grappled above, Matoran pointed and marveled. A few began to cheer, and he smiled warily as he hurtled through the sky. He was glad that they could feel some relief from him still. And as he came upon the scene, he spied a Ga-Matoran backing up as a bright green slug squirmed towards her. The Kraata oozed a trail of sickly slime, which wilted every plant that it passed by. The Matoran of Water was backed up against a tree, swinging her bamboo disk wildly at it. Quickly Kanohi fired past her, and launched through the air. As he hurtled towards her he outstretched his right arm, hooking her waist. He strained as he dragged her through the air, before the two of them smacked into the ground in a tumble, his armor rattling with each collision with the earth. As they rolled to a halt, Kanohi shoved himself up, drawing his lighter. He held it out to the Kraata, it’s elemental flame cracking. The slug hissed and flinched from the glow, before slithering away deep into the jungle. “Are you alright?” Kanohi asked her as he pulled her to her feet. “Better swimmer than a fighter,” she laughed nervously, then swallowed, “How … how can there still be Kraata? The Makuta is dead, isn’t he?” He looked away, “In the Turaga’s stories of Metru-Nui, Rahkshi go feral when the Makuta does not need them. This might have just been a wild Kraata-Ye.” “Of … of course. I should have know.” “There was little way you could have,” he muttered, looking at the trail of withering plants from where the Kraata had left, “the Turaga did not tell many about the plants.” “Th-there you are,” a voice called out. Kanohi turned to see a Ko-Matoran running towards them, his body sand-blue and white. The Matoran of Ice waved to him, but Kanohi did not wave back. “What do you want, Matoro?” asked Kanohi, folding his arms. His wooden armor clattered against each other at the motion, each collision a harsh thud, like drums beating. “Three Matoran were seen headed into the jungle, two Ga-Matoran and a Le-Matoran. Some of the Toa are looking but Le-Wahi is big. Well, you know that, you have patrolled it for centuries. So if you could help look…” “Fine,” he said, “once Nuparu finishes upgrading my arm.” “Listen,” the Matoran of Ice shuffled, “we have been friends for a long time—” “You were Turaga Nuju’s aide, I was the vigilante protector of Mata-Nui. That was all.” “I … I know it’s awkward knowing that the Turaga lied to you—” “—Did they tell you the truth?” Kanohi said quietly, his breath whistling through the holes in his mask like a faint breeze. His fingers began to wiggle on his sides with an anxious energy. “I-I … yes.” Kanohi huffed, but said nothing more. “Listen, they needed Metru-Nui to be kept a secret. If the Matoran knew about it they would try to return, and the Makuta would have just enslaved them—” “I understand why they hid truth. It might have even been necessary. But it was still wrong,” Kanohi said firmly, “simplifying our world only hurt cross-wired freaks like Midas, Takua, and me.” “…I know. You … you know they didn’t mean to hurt you, right? Vakama wouldn’t want that.” “I know,” Kanohi sighed as his hands flapped wildly, “But they still hurt many of us. That’s why I became Kanohi. And that is why I will help these Matoran. There are still Kraata squirming around the island, not to mention the Rahi.” “You know, the two of us both knew about the Kraata when no other Matoran did. We helped the Turaga hunt them, when the others knew nothing. We both shared secrets with the Turaga, hid the truth from our fellow Matoran.” The Ga-Matoran startled at that, and backed away back into the jungle towards the campsite. “Yes, we did,” Kanohi could see his heartlight speed up beneath his wooden armor, “and our secret left many Matoran vulnerable, none of them knew why masks become infected. If they had known Kraata were not just Rahi, many of them could have be spared the control of the Makuta.” “But you agreed to be quiet.” “Yes.” Kanohi’s wrists fluttered like a Nui-Kopen swarm. “Then why are you so mad at the Turaga?” “B-because millions suffered underground while we waddled around in paradise. Do you think I never had visions of the people suffering because of the Brotherhood? Do you think when I asked Vakama to explain, he told me the truth? Or do you think he told me those visions were just metaphors, that the only people in danger were the Matoran of this island? He only fed my fears that I was losing my mind. He only isolated me more.” “Kanohi.” “It wasn’t that he lied. It’s that his lies h-hurt people, and that the damage he caused did not inspire him to be honest.” The sound of wood smacking against itself echoed as Kanohi stimmed. “…You know they were Matoran only a year before they became our Turaga,” whispered Matoro, “its not their fault that they were not ready for the role of leadership.” “Its been a thousand years,” Kanohi said simply, before he waved in dismissal, “I need to get my arm ready. Then I will go rescue these Matoran.” He turned around and grappled away, back towards Nuparu. Matora watched after him with a sigh, his telescopic lens zeroing in on the vigilante as he swung from the jungle. Then finally the Ko-Matoran waddled away, he would need to return to Turaga Nuju. … Gajaga walked through the jungle as early morning crept into the sky. She tightly gripped her bamboo disk, ready to hurl it at the first Rahi to barge out of the underbrush. She had once served in the Ga-Koro Guard, before being dismissed from her post. Her dismissal was for a number of reasons, her anger and her … unusual attachments. ‘Like she thought with the mind of a Rahi,’ the other Matoran of Water would whisper when they thought she couldn’t hear. Oh but she heard. The point was, she knew how to throw the disk, and how to make it hurt. Ramaka called from the tree, “I see movement up ahead, and it looks like a number of trees are toppling over. I think it might be a Tarakava.” Le-Matoran were agile in the trees though clumsy on the ground, made Ramaka a better lookout, “You sure?” Gajaga gripped her disk, even as her free hand reached behind her to pull out a sharpened bamboo pole. Cemahri clung to her own throwing disk as well, though the latter’s eyes were wider, and she clenched her disk like one might dangling off a cliff. Cemahri was no guard, just a weaver with very little training in a fight. “I seen little of a large teal head poking out of the trees,” Ramaka answered, “and the way the trees topple over, like they are being bludgeoned by a big sledgehammer. I-I am not very familiar with the Rahi of Ga-Wahi, but I think it is one? At least going off what I saw in the Battle of Kini-Nui.” “We are going to need to move carefully,” Cemahri said, as her free hand shakily reached out and grabbed Gajaga’s wrist. Gajaga turned to Cemahri and smiled, “it’s okay, we can get through this.” She head-butted Cemahri softly, their masks clinking together. The two Matoran of Water embraced, as they stood in the muddy water of this swamp. There was a boom, and a number of trees trembled, no longer so far away. Cemahri flinched with each tremor, clutching Gajaga tight. “A single Tarakava devastated Ga-Koro,” she whispered, staring towards the rumbling trees. “Yes,” admitted Gajaga, “but we can get through this, okay? We aren’t trapped inside a sunken hut this time.” Cemahri nodded, and the two of them wadded through the water, before shuffling behind a tree half-submerged in the water. As they hung there, Cemahri poked her head around the log, her mask’s telescopic lens adjusting to close up on the beast. She was just a Matoran, she couldn’t use her mask’s power of x-ray vision. But the telescopic lens attached to a Kanohi Akaku could be used by anyone. “It’s a Tarakava,” she whispered. “With an infected mask.” “You sure?” “Yes and … and there is a Kraata riding on top of it, a Kraata of Poison I think?” “Karzahni,” muttered Gajaga, “you are right, we need to be careful.” “But how can a Kraata … exist without the Makuta?” “I don’t know. But stay quiet, stay low.” The two other Matoran nodded, waiting as the Tarakava rode past on the treads. As it drove through the water its powerful fists reeled back and punched systematically, knocking over trees with ease. It’s height towered over even the Toa Nuva, let alone three Matoran. But as the Tarakava rode through the swamp it suddenly halted, its treads grinding to a halt. Its head shifted about as it began to look around, its nostrils sniffing the air. The Matoran drew still, even as the Rahi’s Kraata rider squeaked out a hiss of pleasure. … Kanohi grappled through the jungle, firing one Volo Lutu Launcher, then the other. As his balls of gravity hurled him through the canopy he looked about, hearing the birds call, seeing the greenery and fruit. His armor only added to the melody, the wood clanking and striking with each swing like and drum. Mata-Nui was … so alive. While the stories of Metru-Nui sounded cold and lifeless. Of course, Mata-Nui was dangerous, with many aggressive Rahi. And when the Makuta infected their masks, they became even more dangerous. They became an extension of his will, driven to attack the Matoran. And Kanohi still wasn’t sure that the prophecy of the Bohrok had already been fulfilled. Elements of his visions … were incomplete. For over a thousand years the Matoran had lived on Mata-Nui, hunted by the Makuta’s Infected Rahi. The Matoran lived apart, Onu-Matoran in the caves, Ta-Matoran by the lava, Le-Matoran in the trees, Ga-Matoran in the water. They weren’t one people, just six tribes isolated from each other, terrified of leaving their Koro because of the beasts. Thinking Mata-Nui was the only island, that there were only six breeds of Matoran, that this was their homeland. That they were not in exile. That the Turaga would be honest about the important stuff. For the millennia of exile, the Matoran only had themselves to rely on, along with the Turaga he supposed. The Toa were just a legend then. They followed traditions the Turaga made-up, obeyed rules, travel between Koro was forbidden, you stayed with your kind. And if you did not feel comfortable with them, then that was a flaw of your own. Then a few centuries ago Kanohi grew tired of waiting for the heroes to come, and became a vigilante, grappling through the southern jungles to rescue Matoran from Rahi and disasters. He was always a cross-wired freak, not only plagued by visions but his brain functioned differently in general, his wiring was different. More musical, but in a different way, always in motion, calmed by seemingly random noses and gestures. Cross-wired. And his body was strange too. The Turaga said he was Po-Matoran, but he lacked their strength, just had great physical endurance. He knew something was wrong, that he could not be a Matoran of Stone. And of course he wasn’t. It was just another lie, to make the Matoran more unified. Six tribes, six villages. He belonged in Po-Koro. Only it made him more of an outsider. He felt out of place everywhere, and the Matoran had not forgotten to remind him. As an cross-wired outcast, Kanohi knew just how isolating the island could be. So he resolved to be there for the Matoran, especially the other freaks, instead of waiting for fabled Toa to arrive and save the world. To protect the Matoran, give them hope, and let the outcasts know that they were not alone. Because no matter how much Turaga Vakama said his visions were a gift from the Great Spirit himself, even from the start Kanohi had known it was just a glitch. He continued to grapple through the jungle, hooking the branches to catapult his way through the trees. Brakas hooted as he went past, the water lapped against the tree trunks; there was a music to Mata-Nui, one he doubted Metru-Nui had. Kanohi could hear thumping in the distance, maybe a Tarakava? The Rahi usually hunted in pairs, but he did not hear enough sound for there to be two. And it sounded like it was in the shallows, Tarakava preferred to ambush from the depths. That might mean it had an infected mask, and that its will was being overwritten. The Makuta … the Turaga said he had been killed by Takanuva, but they apparently would lie if they thought it necessary. And if they had told him the truth, a Kraata in a high enough stage would know the Makuta’s will. It might be able to continue the plans of its master. He swerved to face the thumping, before grappled towards the sound. If it was an Infected Tarakava he would need to know, to protect the Matoran. Not that the Matoran would going to stay in Mata-Nui for much longer. … The Tarakava sniffed about, its nostrils flaring. Its reptilian head pivoted side to side, probing the trees, searching for the Matoran it could smell. Its Kraata had hopped off, sinking underneath the swamp. The sun was rising higher, and a Kraata of its level knew to fear the light. Gajaga and Cemahri continued to hide, trying not to move. They … they couldn’t win a fight with a Tarakava, the only beings strong enough would be a Toa. And they were no Toa. Then suddenly Cemahri let out a scream, and began to thrash. Gajaga swerved without hesitation, all but tackling her fellow Ga-Matoran. “What’s wrong?” Gajaga demanded as she looked over her. Before her optics Gajaga could see that green rash had began to burn into Cemahri’s metal leg, spreading like rust. The Kraata. Gajaga stabbed her spear into the water in a frenzy, only for the tree they hid behind to be battered away by a giant fist. The Matoran were sent hurtling through the swamp, smashing against a tree. Gajaga shakily stood up, as the Tarakava reeled its arm back. Thump. Ramaka’s bamboo disk thudded against the Infected Tarakava, and the beast shrieked in rage. It swerved towards the Le-Matoran, who shook like a leaf. The Rahi slammed its fist into the tree, Ramaka barely managing to leap to another branch. In the meantime Gajaga clutched at Cemahri, holding her tight. “Come on, fight this thing, please,” she begged as she pressed Cemahri to her heartlight. There was a splash a few bios away, as Ramaka’s tree shattered. The Le-Matoran fell like a rock, only for a brown streak to slam into Ramaka mid fall. Kanohi held Ramaka in his arms as he grappled to another tree. “Ramaka right? She/her?” “Um, yes, you … you are Kanohi, right?” And he … he knew about Ramaka? He knew that she was … not like other Le-Matoran. “Yes,” he nodded, reaching into his bag and pulling out a piece of blue shimmering cloth, “listen, Turaga Nokama gave me this centuries ago, it should help reduce poison.” “You … you know about the Kraata?” “I can smell the poison,” he said simply, “get it to Cemahri, I will distract the Tarakava. Head to the south, okay?” “Wh-what about the Kraata?” “…We will try to do our best.” He grappled away flying right past the Tarakava’s snout. Ashe went past he swung his bamboo disk, thumping it against the Rahi’s nose. It flinched before roaring, and rampaging after him. Ramaka stared after him briefly, before hearing shouting. Quickly she jumped into the swamp, wadding over to Cemahri. Quickly she pressed the cloth to Cemahri’s infection, and the poison began to flush out of her body, forming a toxic cloud in the water. “How … how did you…” Gajaga struggled to speak as she held Cemahri tight. “We don’t have time to think about this, we need to get out of here, that Kraata could still be here, ready to poison her again, or one of us.” “R-right,” Gajaga nodded, cradling Cemahri in her arms. She began to wade through the swamp, with Ramaka returning to the trees. … Only a Toa had the power to fight a Tarakava head on. Their command of their element and their ability to harness their masks gave them the ability to take on the toughest beasts. Even Bohrok and Rahkshi fell before them. Kanohi was no Toa, just a Matoran of Iron who had visions and could grapple around the jungle with ease. Still he had fought again rampaging Rahi for centuries, he knew how to deal with them. Kanohi hung to a tree, waiting for the Tarakava to swing. As it punched him he grappled away, and its punch shattered the tree. Bits of debris smacking into the reptile, scratching up its chassis. “O-over here.” He called out, and the beast charged at him, thrusting out its fists. He hooked another tree as it rammed through the swamp, dodging as it hit the tree. The tree fell and smacked into its head, though the blow missed its mask. Kanohi grappled to another tree, before latching to another and hurtling away as the Tarakava smashed the tree to bits. He grappled besides the Tarakava and immediately launched away, dodging another fist. He grappling around the foe, circling it like a Nui-Rama around a Toa. It shifted through the swamp after him, but its treads could not pivot, and it stumbled on the roots and rocks of the marsh. He then suddenly hooked the beast and flew at it, smacking it in the head. It staggered and he leapt away right as it thrust its arm out, exploding a tree into splinters. It swung at him, but his Volo Lutu Launcher first, hurtling him out of reach among the trees. He was baiting it, and with each punch of a tree debris blew back into it. As it shattered another tree Kanohi launched onto another tree. He hung there, waiting as the beast charged. Infected mask or not, it was still an animal. The Tarakava punched at him, but he hooked a ball of gravity against its face. He flew over its fist, before wrenching off its infected mask. He hurled it into the swamp, before grappling over and stomping the mask. The mask cracked, even as the beast stumbled in a daze, its mind was clearing. It lurched about, confused how it had gotten here. Kanohi grappled away, flinging himself through the jungle canopy. As he tumbled he released a sigh he … he had not expected things to do that smoothly. But then as he slung across the marshland, he heard a cry. He swerved in midair and hooked a tree, heading towards the source of the cry. … “Stay back, Makuta-spawn,” demanded Gajaga, thrusting her spear at the Kraata. They were on a patch of mud, solid enough to stand above the water. The Kraata was hissing as the three Matoran stood in a patch of sunlight, enough to ward the Kraata off. The green slug hissed, the mud around it turning a sickly puke color. It paced about on its patch of shadow, trying to figure out how it could grow closer— Then there was a tumble as Kanohi landed besides them. He thrust out his lighter, and the slug flinched from the light. “Burn it, quickly.” “Not unless I can help it,” he said, waving his arm back and forth, aiming to ward off the beast. “It hurt Cemahri,” shouted Gajaga, grabbed his wrist and thrusting the vigilante’s lighter forward. Immediately the Kraata ignited, turning into a violent blaze. Noxious green fumes plumed off from it as it burnt to a crisp, and Kanohi kicked the slug away, into the swamp. “Fire-spitter,” Kanohi growled, before sighing, “now this patch of swamp will become toxic, it will be unsafe to dip your mask in the water for years.” “It needed to die.” “It did, but there are better ways to get rid of them,” Kanohi stood up, “you all alright? How is Cemahri holding up?” “Okay just … hurts,” moaned the Ga-Matoran, clutching her leg. “We need to get her to Toa Gali, she could cure the poison.” “But … of course,” Gajaga said, hoisting Cemahri onto her back. “Why did you leave into the swamp?” It looked like they packed heavy, tools, sleeping bags, maps, there was a lot of camping gear. “B-because this is our home. We don’t remember Metru-Nui, it’s just a story. Mata-Nui was our home, where we meet each other, where we grew. Where we … meet each other. We don’t know the first thing about the city, or living underground. It’s … it’s not our destiny.” He nodded, looking away, “I understand.” He said, and his wrists began to flap, his arms held out like a Tarakava ready to punch. But his posture wasn’t aggressive just … anxious. “You do?” “Of course. And does it hurt me that the Turaga lied for centuries. That the lies they used to keep most Matoran safe hurt the rest, and they found it acceptable. That when we came to them in confusion and fear, they lied more, to protect the rest. I … I had thought they thought higher of us.” “Would you want to stay here too?” “…What I want and what will happen are very different,” Kanohi sighed, “Duty calls us elsewhere, to the underground.” “But … that is the Duty the Turaga claim we have. What if they are lying?” “They mean to do what’s best for us.” “But you kn-know very well that’s what is best for the Matoran is not what is best for every Matoran. We are not just a monolithic people.” Ramaka stumbled, shrinking under his gaze, “some … some of us are broken. We don’t belong in Metru-Nui.” “…I understand,” he sighed, “I feel out of place in any Koro, let alone in some city I never traveled too. But first, let us return to Kini-Nui. Cemahri needs help recovering from the poison. And the other Matoran will need to know to avoid this stretch of swamp. The three other Matoran nodded, even Cemahri, and together they began to make their way through the tree, Kanohi grappling overhead. … Kanohi grappled across the camped village of Voka-Koro, reaching down to swipe up a fallen bamboo disk. “Um, over here,” a Ta-Matoran called out, avoiding his gaze. Kanohi hooked the ground besides the Matoran and landed besides the m, before handing over the disk. They curtsied in thanks, before reeling their arm back and throwing the disk again, aiming for a target dummy shaped like a Kraata. The small village held thirty seven Matoran, with Kanohi acting as their protector. In the treetops Matoran grappled with Volo Lutu Launchers they held in their hands, foraging food and resources from the jungle. Some wove flax into cloth, others cut bamboo into tools. A few worked to repair their hovercraft, which were made with large cabins to live in. Voya-Koro was mobile, hence the name. For the past month they have traveled about, foraging supplies from the old abandoned villages, having a tour of the island. He could hear laughter as Matoran discovered old adventures, old victories. As they traveled their hovercrafts were frequently rebuilt, the fleet’s ships growing bigger and bolder. “Your village is coming along quite nicely,” a shaky voice offered. Kanohi tensed up like a coiled spring, and did not answer. “I know you are still mad,” Turaga Vakama said as he appeared besides him. A Turaga could only use Noble masks like a Huna, but the Mask of Concealment still had its uses. The Turaga was using his Firestaff as a cane, though it’s flames were dwarfed by sunlight. “I understand why you did what you did. I might have even done the same in your position, though I would have been a very different Matoran then. But maybe I even would have been such a Matoran, before I lost my memories. And I know that had I known, I may have ventured below to help the Matoran underground. Could have enraged the Makuta, or just died. I understand. But all of that doesn’t undo that keeping our truths from us wasn’t cruel.” “We thought that if the Matoran were more organized, if things were simpler, they would be happier. And safer. We did not know how many would fall in the cracks.” “Least you don’t need to worry about us anymore.” He gestured to the nomadic village. Many of them had been outcasts in the old villages, considered freaks by their people. Some were the ‘wrong’ gender for their breed, some of them had strange urges for companionship, some had eccentricities, some were cross-wired. Few of them had ever belonged in their Koro, and now that the world was changing, they had clung to the only people who had been there for them. “I did not know our gulf was so deep.” “…I would not have stayed here if they did not need me.” And that was true. “…You and I do not always seem the exact same thing in our visions, but you must know, I have witnessed a new prophecy.” “The Bohrok?” Kanohi said simply. Instinctually his hand reached to his side, where one of his wooden masks covered his lighter. He winced at the gesture, and pulled his hand back, its wrist flapping with discomfort. “Yes. They will destroy Mata-Nui. Our war against them had only delayed the inevitable destruction of this island.” “I know. It’s why we travel in hovercraft. It’s not just to see the whole island, or to flee from Rahi. We will sail away from the island of Mata-Nui when that time of doom comes, we will find refuge in the open ocean.” “Are you so enrage at us that you would condemn yourself and these Matoran you protect to an eternity on the Endless Ocean?” Vakama’s voice trembled with exhaustion, and Kanohi’s fingers began to wiggle, an anxious energy sinking in. “No, but I have foreseen what happens when the Great Spirit will awaken. Only suffering will follow for the Matoran below. And the Matoran of Voka-Koro will stay here whether I stay or not, I know as much. All I can do is protect them, maybe guide them. And the Matoran suffering below … I could not protect them. I … a Brotherhood of Makuta is beyond me, I know that now.” “How could the Great Spirit awakening be anything but glad?” “…I see a giant machine towering above the Endless Ocean, eyes crimson with arrogance. I see the Matoran ruled by Rahkshi, the Turaga imprisoned in the Coluseum itself, and even the Toa Nuva forced to flee for their lives.” “How is it possible?” “I only tell you what my visions said. It may just be a metaphor.” He winced. He regretted that he had said that dig, deserved or not. “…I couldn’t tell you the truth. But … maybe I could have been less dismissive.” “I know many of the problems I faced you did too once,” Kanohi sighed, “for better or worse, the truth makes you seem less unreachable.” “Yes. I suppose I viewed Turaga Dume the same once,” he laughed, “I never fully learned the lessons I should have, even after a thousand years. And after the trouble we had with the fake disks, I inflected that kind of pain onto you? I failed you.” “…From the sounds of your stories, you did better that Turaga Dume and Lhikan. As long as we continue to do better for the next generation, we haven’t failed.” “Perhaps,” Vakama smiled wearily, “Maybe if we peer into the fire together, like old times, we could learn more.” “…Alright,” Kanohi nodded. If it would help the Matoran, that was most important. And he … he hated that he no longer could trust Vakama like he once had. He could still remember Naming Day, being honored that Vakama had appointed Kanohi his truth name, instead of just his masked identity. “Do you ever think you can forgive us?” “I have forgiven you. But there is a wall between us now, and there always will be. We will never be as close as we once were.” “I understand.” “How are things in Metru-Nui?” “Rebuilding continues. You could be a great help down there.” “I would, but the Matoran of Metru-Nui have seven Toa and seven Turaga. I can make a bigger difference here, among the Matoran who need it most.” “If the giant does rise, what then?” “I get my people to safety, then try to help all of you. Thank of us as a backup group of heroes, who will be there to save you in a ‘great rescue.’” Vakama smiler, “I noticed you listened to all my stories.” “Yes. And for the record, I have foreseen that our hovercrafts will make landfall one day. We will not wander the ocean forever.” “…We can send some supplies to you before then, masks and tools. Once we can make Kanoka again, we can send some your way. Dume would be resistant, he is not comfortable with you being out here, he wants to have the guards bring you back to Metru-Nui.” “I see why the Matoran bristle under him.” “Yes he … Metru-Nui was very different that Mata-Nui. More distant. And Dume would rather us Turaga maintain that distance.” Kanohi glanced at the Turaga. “Meaning?” “Turaga Dume … is used to announcing his decrees, and the Matoran listening. He has more experience that us, much more, but he has not lived among Matoran for a long time, and has not walked among them for millennia before the Makuta captured him.” The Fe-Matoran looked away, “Thank you, Turaga Vakama. If you can send us Kanoka, focus on disks of regeneration, freezing, and remove poison. Those should satisfy our needs. But don’t worry about powered masks, they would be wasted on us. The Toa Nuva and Takanuva, and your Turaga could use them more.” “I know, do not fear,” Vakama laughed, “And just in case your people ever need to know, a Kiril can be made with a regeneration disk. It’s fairly simple to make. Level seven is a Noble Kiril. Level eight would become a Great Mask.” “That’s good. If you can gives us tablets on how to make Kanoka and masks, it might be good to have that knowledge, just in case.” “Yes. Forming a Kanoka is not easy, they were only invented fairly recently. Well, recently in the history of Metru-Nui. But I would be happy to share that with you, late though it would be.” Kanohi looked up as drums began to pound. He looked towards the source of the beating, listening in. “A Rahi is approaching from the west,” he said as the thunder of music continued, “I need to handle this.” “Very well. Good luck.” Kanohi nodded before hooking a tree, and hurtling through the air. He grappling through the trees, launching himself among the branches past the parked convoy. In the distance he could hear a roar, maybe a Muaka? Their jaws were powerful, their claws too, but he knew how to tire one out. The vigilante protector of Voya-Koro hurtling forward, passing the waving Matoran of the village. He catapulted through the forest of Le-Wahi, hurtling through the many trees of Mata-Nui, his beloved island home.
  2. So, as many of you know, one of the first things I did since I returned to BZPower was participate in the Six Kingdoms Escapement. My character in the rpg was Kanohi, a Fe-Matoran “superhero” whose island was destroyed by the League of Six Kindoms, and who spent his days grappling around Metru-Nui trying to repair buildings and help evacuate civilians. He’s one of my favorite Bionicle OCs, just an anxiety-ridden Matoran trying to help others. He grew a lot over the first rpg, and he continues to grow in Six Kingdoms Rebirth. I have written a number of stories about a version of him that fits into the canon of Bionicle, but this story will be a bit different. You see, as SKE was wrapping up we discovered that one of the major NPCs wanted to use the Disk of Time to change history. To us players, there was some fear that our character development would be erased, all our growth and new friendships lost. So I began to plan a way to avoid resetting Kanohi to zero. Kanohi has an ability not unlike Vakama possesses in canon, he can experience visions of events yet to happen. Well he is a superhero, he needs at least one superpower. And it was based on this that I began to plot what to do if history was changed. Ultimately though history was not rewritten, but since the Disk of Time was used, and becauseI know some of us are a bit stressed by recent events in SKR, I thought it might be fun to still use my plan as the basis for a new story. So yesterday instead of sleeping I wrote this bad boi. This story takes place in a universe similar to SKE, starting with a failure of Fe-Matoran grappling through the swampland of his island home. With that said, enjoy. artwork by @Onaku The Impact of a Rebirth … The Fe-Matoran hurtled through the trees like a cannonball, tumbling and careening. As he was flung upwards, he fired from his Volo Lutu Launcher a small ball of gravity into a tree. As he fell from his arc he was yanked to the gravity ball, dragging him through the canopy. He flew past the tree, before continuing to grapple through the swampland of Bo-Wahi. A satchel dangled from his arm, stuffed full of herbs. With Turaga Bomahri‘s back acting up, some of the foragers of Bo-Wahi had searched for and harvested a few herbs to treat his pain. To get them them to the Turaga in time they needed a courier, and Dece was, well, available. Dece was an okay courier. Not a great one. He was decent enough at throwing a bamboo disk as well. Though most of Fe-Koro was his better. Still he at least was proficient at grappling through the swamp than he had been as a mask maker. Right? The traditions of the island of Okoto were simple. The Fe-Matoran lived in Fe-Koro, they made the island’s tools, masks, they mined Protodermis, and occasionally they fought Rahi if Toa Fehagah was too far away to reach them in time. On the other hand the Bo-Matoran grappled through the swamps to forage plants and other resources, and acted as medics if there was a crisis. Toa Fehagah protected them from aggressive Rahi or other disasters, while Turaga Bomahri led them with wisdom. That was how it was supposed to be. But Dece … he was a failure. He struggled to make masks, he had a few successes with easy Kanohi, but he failed on the harder masks. So much Protodermis wasted. Even Turaga Bomahri had gotten tired of his pathetic attempts at forging masks. And every time he tried to forge a mask, he could hear the Turaga’s disappointment, see the other Fe-Matoran looking in pity and-and… The Matoran spotted out of the corner of his optics that his heartlight was flashing. He swallowed and made a moan. Remember what Turaga Bomahri always says. Just … don’t focus on the big picture, break everything down to small manageable tasks. The Turaga had found a way for him to be useful as a courier, he was still helping the Matoran, still doing his Duty. Maybe he wasn’t trusted with particular sensitive cargo, but this was still going to help Okoto. It would help the Turaga even. Dece tried to force a smile he … he was helpful, he … he was. Then came a sound like a buzzsaw cleaving through a thick tree. Dece flinched at the sound and tried … tried not to look behind him. But he could see the shadow behind him, drawing ever closer. As he tumbled through the trees he used his left hand to reach into his satchel and pulled out a bamboo disk he … it wouldn’t be much help, but it might help him get away. Then with a grinding shriek the Nui-Rama was upon him, the giant bug lunging its claws at his mask. He wore a Kanohi Hau, the Great Mask of Shielding. Not that he could use its power, he was just a Matoran, and not even a very useful one at that. But as the Nui-Rama swung at him he threw the disk, striking its bulbous eye. It flinched, it’s flaw only slamming into his gut. Dece tumbled from the blow, slamming into the swamp. As he struck the murky surface, Dece felt his head shattered. Not literally, his mask was not even damaged. But as he sank into the mud the mud seemed to swirl and grab at him, dragging him deeper into the swamp. He struggled, but the world was smothered in mud, turning into a brown goop. And then … Dece’ s mind exploded. … “Turaga?” Turaga Bomahri looked up as he continued to rub his back. His hut was all but woven with iron like a quilt, with metal imitations of flowers blooming in it. In the entrance to his metal hut was a Fe-Matoran, wearing a burnt orange Hau and with a biomechanical body of the same shade or orange, mixed with black components. “Oh, Dece you … have arrived. We were worried you were lost in the swamp.you certainly look the part.” The Turaga of Jungle remarked. Dece was covered in mud, splattered all over his body. But that wasn’t what made Bomahri hesitate. There was … something in Dece’s eyes. “I have brought your herbs,” Dece said emptying his satchel on the table besides the Turaga. “Sorry, they got a bit muddy.” “Of course,” the Turaga said with a sigh. What was he going to do with Dece? Couldn’t even travel the swamp without making a fool of himself. “Turaga I … What do you think of Destiny?” “Destiny? It’s what we all seek to fulfill, to be the best version of ourselves, as the Great Spirit Mata-Nui desires. It is of the Three Virtues most honored by Bo-Matoran along with Unity. Why do you ask?” Such a basic question. “I … I saw something. Or … I was something. Or will be something. I … I don’t know if I understand.” “Don’t worry, we expect that by now,” Turaga Bomahri smiled, “thank you for the herbs, but you need to hurry along, more Matoran will need deliveries.” “Yes um, sorry Turaga. I … I’ll get back to work. Sorry, um, sorry…” Dece bowed and departed the room, but hesitated at the door. He started to look back, before clenching up and raving outside the hut. Then with a fire of his Volo Lutu Launcher he grappled away into the open air, hooking the surrounding huts to travel to the edge of the plateau. … “Matoran Dece,” Toa Fehagah knocked on the hut’s door. It was on the outskirts of the plateau, well away from the rest of the Fe-Matoran. There was a delay and then a shout of, “Um, you … you can come in.” She nodded and bent over, before fitting into the metal doorway. She was tall, her armor was blue and white, and she wore atop her face a Kanohi Kadin, the Great Mask of Flight. Dece was on the floor, welding something. “S-sorry, Toa. I know have not started my rounds today, I just … I saw something. I don’t understand it but I think it’s important. For all of us.” “Alright,” she nodded, sitting down besides him. Anything I can help with—” And then she realized he was welding something to his forearm. “Dece what are you doing?” She demanded in shock, reaching to pull his Firestaff away, only to hesitate. If … if he burnt himself because of her. “It’s okay, Toa Fehagah,” he swallowed, “I … I trust in Destiny.” “What Destiny is it to have a Volo Lutu Launcher stuck to your arm?” She all but managed to shout. He flinched and she added, “sorry but this … this isn’t like you.” “I saw something.” “What did you see?” “The future,” he whispered. The Toa stared at him, “you … saw the future?” “I don’t know how but I … I saw how I can help the village. How I can help our island. I know it sounds silly but I … Mata-Nui had to have given me this vision for a reason, right?” She stared at him, and finally said, “Dece, you had faith in my strangeness, even before I was a Toa. The least I could do is trust in yours. Scoot over, I can make this smoother.” His optics widened beneath his mask, “if … if it’s not a trouble.” “It’s not,” she smiled, “but, would you mind telling me exactly what you saw?” She pressed her finger to his welding job and metal began to secrete from her finger, sealing up the rough welding he had been doing. “Um, well um, is it okay if you do the other arm too?” “Yes,” the Toa of Iron answered, “but what exactly did you see?” “I saw you overwhelmed by strange people that were as tall as you. I … don’t think they were Toa. And I saw Fe-Koro demolished, Bo-Wahi burned to the ground. I saw me fleeing like a coward. I retreated to a great city, whose buildings towered above even the plateau. I saw … that city be destroyed too in the end, by the same army.” “…The pressure you must feel.” “But in the destruction of the city, I was doing things. Good things. Grappling around the city, rescuing Matoran from falling debris, snatching them before they could be executed, shielding them from attacks, using disks with strange powers to repair towers and bridges; I was helping. And if I can help Okoto now with what I had learned to do in the future, maybe we can survive this.” “…That is a great responsibility.” “Yes but … but I can help. A way to help that I can do, that others might not do as well. And that might take pressure off you.” The Toa of Iron was quiet for a time, her body tense. Dece looked away, his face beneath his mask growing crimson. But finally she says, “well, let’s get to work then.” … “Toa Fehagah, this is foolishness,” the Turaga nibbled alongside her, his wooden staff helping support his wright, “Dece is barely good as a courier, he can’t be a fighter.” “He won’t be. He’s going to be a vigilante protector. And he’s Kanohi now.” “He can’t just choose a new name.” “I did.” “Yes well, you underwent Naming Day.” “And maybe Kanohi will too one day,” the Toa dismissed, before using her long legs to speed past the Turaga’s pace. Soon enough she was at the edge of the plateau, where Kanohi was looking down at the swampland below. He was covered in broken masks that he had dangled from his body, like wind chimes. He had never gotten rid of those failures, clung to them. And now they hung to him as armor, the broken and failed masks repurposed to do good. “Ready, partner?” “Um I … I am just your helper.” “Well, you are doing part of my work, so you are my partner,” she smiled, and he blushed. “Now we should begin practice by…” She trailed off, catching sight of something in the swampland. “What’s wrong?” “Fire,” she pointed in the northern patch of the swamp, and he followed her gaze, “it looks like it’s in the path of some of our foragers’ routes. We will have to reschedule practice for another day.” “Okay, I-I-I’ll try to get them to safety.” She turned to object, but stopped. Finally she said, “before careful, alright? I’ll contain and smother the fire, you help them escape. Don’t try to fight it.” “Of course,” he nodded, his makeshift armor jingling at the motion. She swallowed hope … hopefully this would go well. She lifted him up and put him atop her shoulders, and he held on tight. Then with a glow of her mask she lifted into the air, and blasted off through the jungle, flying with all the speed she could manage. … Kanohi hung to his Toa as she flew through the swamp. There was only one Toa in the island of Okoto, and only one Turaga. The island was difficult to reach, the trees were packed closely and shredded boats, it was surrounded by swampland so there was nowhere to dock a ship either. The only settlement was atop a large plateau, so a traveler would need a mask of flight or a Volo Lutu Launcher to actually meet with the natives. And few actually cared to visit Okoto in the first place. The island had little to offer, just a vast swamp full of plants and large bugs, and a Protodermis mine built into the side of the plateau. It had no wealth, the technology it had was fairly basic except for the Iden Machine, but that was made by a traveler from outside the island. They had a few hovercrafts for shipping goods over the island, but the hovercrafts were small, and they were only able to maintain a few of them. Most folks who traveled just used Volo Lutu Launchers. Its people were poor, and they were not worth trading with. And yet, those warlords in his vision, they would burn it to the ground. He shuddered just, just focus on small manageable tasks. Right now there was a fire, he had to rescue Matoran, just … just tru to take it one at a time, He did not have time to dwell on those through though, as soon enough a wall of heat slammed into him. “Here, Kanohi,” Toa Fehagah shifted her shoulders and he climbed off, landing in a tree, “I’ll contain the fire, you rescue the Matoran.” He nodded in a frenzy, before pointing his right arm away. The Volo Lutu Launcher in his arm fired, and he was shot forward into the trees. Then with his left arm he hooked another tree, and began to swing across the swamp. It was … easier somehow, grappling with the weight of his masks and with two launchers. That vision had all but given him the experience of using a similar setup. The one in the vision was a bit more … hi-tech, but this new power was still useful. There, in the blaze he spotted a Bo-Matoran choking on the fumes. He swallowed this … it was real now. Mata-Nui, please let me not screw up again. Not with a life on the line. Quickly he latched a tree trunk behind the Matoran, and grappled through the fire. As he sailed past he extended his arm and hooked it around the Matoran’s gut. With a heave he dragged the Matoran from the blaze, before the two of them tumbled into the mud. As a Matoran of Iron, Kanohi had high physical endurance, so he stood up pretty quickly. He almost tackled the Matoran of Jungle, frantically over his injuries. He was still alive, but he was still unconscious. He … small tasks, just get him away from the fire, With a shove Kanohi hoisted the Bo-Matoran onto his back, before grappling away from the blaze. He swung and hooked his way across the swamp, until he tumbled before to a lone tree some distance from the rest of the woods. Slowly Kanohi lifted the Matoran, straining to carry him. He laid him against the tree, hopefully the tree was far enough away the fire wouldn’t reach it. He looked over, the Natoran was coughing now, spewing wads of black ash. He … he still needed to learn how to treat the injured. He was no Bo-Matoran. Still, he could hear the fire cracking, other Matoran would need help. Kanohi swallowed, before hook in a tree and grappling away, heading back towards the fire that chewed up the swamplands. Just focus on small manageable tasks. He hurtled and flung through the trees, swinging one arm at a time. Soon enough he spotted another Bo-Matoran, this one stuck in a tree as fire engulfed the lower tree trunk. With an outstretched arm he caught the Matoran, carrying him away from the flames. “What the heck are you doing?” The Bo-Matoran demanded as he coughed up mud, “who … who are you supposed to be?” “I-I am Kanohi,” the Fe-Matoran said, “can you climb onto my back, I can carry you away from the blaze.” “I don’t need the help of a freak—” The two of them staggered as a wall of heat slammed into them. The Matoran of Jungle winced before managing, “um, yeah, let me just get on your back.” Kanohi shook under his weight, he had enhanced endurance, not strength. Still his body at least could take the strain, and with a fire of his built-in launchers he grappled away. … Toa Fehagah waves her hands about, and iron erupted from her fingers. Her elemental power snaked and wove through the air like vines up a tree, and soon enough metal had ensnared the trees of the swamp. From tree to tree she grew a wall of iron, a barrier to halt the spread of the flames. The trees would likely die from her metal vines strangling them, but the rest of the swamp should be saved. She had been trained to use her element by Toa Bomahri, most of her lessons had been before he had become a Turaga. Back when he had the full elemental powers of a Toa of Jungle. Because of his influence, the metal she created almost grew like a plant, instead of crude geometric shapes it blossomed and crawled and strangled like any vine. She … had only met one other Toa, the traveler who she traded bodies with, but even with her lack interaction with proper Toa of Iron, she knew she was weird. For many reasons. She was quite aware that she was a freak, just like Kanohi. Kanohi’s vision was … horrifying. She wished she had a Mask of Mind Reading, so she at least could understand some of what he saw. Share his burden. But destiny chose only him to see that awful future. And all she could do was support her old friend. He had always been … anxious and a mess of issues, but Fehagah did not forget that when realized she was no man, Kanohi had accepted her instantly. And when she became a Toa he did not forget her truth. He was respectful, if terrified of messing up. And when she decided to switch bodies with that Toa of Lightning, he was nothing but supportive. Even her old mentor was a bit wary about the island’s only Toa using that strange untested machine. But Kanohi … he believed it was her Destiny from the start. What else could she do but believe in his own Destiny? As she formed her barrier there was a whoosh behind her. She turned to see Kanohi grappling past, dancing among the fire and the trees. She winced, the heat was dangerous. But he just hurled through it, looking for Bo-Matoran caught in the flames. She could not remember this energy from him, this speed and grace. Yes he still tumbled, but his swing through the trees was so precise. That vision, despite its horror, it had empowered him. Told him plainly ‘you don’t have to be a Toa to be a hero. And you Kanohi, you can be a hero.’ As terrible a burden that vision must be, the Toa still found herself thanking Mata-Nui for letting him see what he could be. … Kanohi threw his bamboo disk, striking a few branches. The branches tumbled to the swamp, even as the disk ricocheted towards him. It landed in the mud besides him with a splash. He leaned over to grab it, winching as he strained his back. Even with his enhanced physical endurance his body ached from carrying around the Matoran. Still he picked the disk up, before looking up at the tree he had severed. Without those branches the fire would not be able to spread this far. He turned to the four Bo-Matoran, three of them carrying their fourth. Swallowing he said, “o-okay, you need to wade through the swamp, I will move from above and divert the fire from you.” “Um, sure thing, Kanohi,” one of them managed. They looked at him like he had a Fikou perched on his head, but even still they began to move. He might be a mad Matoran, but he had been doing alright rescuing them from the blaze, so madness wasn’t looking so terrible. Kanohi grappled above them, encircling them to look for dangers. The Volo Lutu Launchers the Bo-Matoran had been used were broken during the blaze, but Fehagah had reinforced Kanohi’s launchers when she attached them to his forearms, they would hold. He was so lucky for the Toa of Okoto to give him a chance, As he revolved around the group he stopped periodically, dangling from one of his launchers to look back to the blaze’s growth and to look for any Rahi. The beasts would flee the fire, but they would still be dangerous. Nui-Rama, Fikou, Nui-Jaga, Nui-Kopen; all those insects stalked the jungle, and all would eat a Matoran if they had the chance. There was a boom as the fire engulfed another tree, and Kanohi grappled over, his bamboo disk at the ready. With a twirl he threw it, cleaving through branches before falling to the mud. He grappled down and hooked it in his hand as he swung over the mud, before hurling and flinging his way back to the four retreating Bo-Matoran. But as he approached he heard that buzzing sound, that terrible buzzing. The Fe-Matoran turned to see a Nui-Rama with a cracked eye flying towards him. Was … could it be the one from before? Kanohi swallowed, before grappling away from the large winged bug. It swerved after him, its claws swiping at the air behind him. He grappled left and right, hopefully throwing the bug off with his erratic movements. Still it pursued him, buzzing like a roar as it clawed at the air. And — argh, the jerking motions only made his body throb and scream. He … he couldn’t just dodge it could he? It was after him, maybe even for revenge. He … he had to make the chase more costly. With a flex of his arms he grappled to the base of a tree, just hanging there. He perched there for like a second, before launching away. The Nui-Rama all but slammed into the tree trunk to attack him, splashing into the swamp from the impact. “Um, sorry?” Kanohi called out, as the Nui-Rama dragged itself out of the swamp. With a sound like a propellor grinding against a tree trunk, it reared its arm back, before slashing its claw through the base of one of the trees. The Fe-Matoran swallowed and hooked another tree, resuming his swing through the swamp. In the meantime the Rahi shook off its wings, mud splattering wildly. The Rahi pivoted in the air, before spying Kanohi and charging towards him. As the beast charged he latched onto a tree, waiting. But as it rammed him with its jaw he grappled away, leaving the Nui-Rama to take a large chomp out of the tree. It spat out the biomechanical wood, before looking at the fleeing Fe-Matoran. It shrieked out a buzzing sound, it would get back at the four-legged Fikou another day. The Nui-Rama buzzed off, swiping a big gash in a tree as it left. Kanohi grappled away, heading back towards the Bo-Matoran. But as he approached them there was a sound he struggled to recognize. Like a cry, but the pitch was off. “Nice one, Kanohi,” he winced at what must be mockery, but then the Bo-Matoran said, “not everyone can drive off a Nui-Rama without even throwing a single disk. That was incredible.” “Oh um,” were they being genuine? “um, well, all I did was making it hurt itself until it lost interest. It wasn’t like I fought it.” “You didn’t have to, you used your head.” “No, I didn’t head-butt it,” Kanohi answered, “but oh um, thank you though.” “Everyone alright?” Kanohi turned his head around to see Toa Fehagah fly towards them. The fire was now contained, walled off from the rest of the swamp by a barrier of trees woven with iron vines. “Don’t worry, Kanohi saved us. He’s working with you?” “He is indeed, we are partners.” Kanohi’s face could have been redder, but it would have been hard. The Toa of Iron just laughed though, and said, “come on, we need to keep moving, even with the fire no longer spreading, it won’t be safe here. The Rahi will be all riled up.” “Um, right, Toa Fehagah,” Kanohi nodded, “Um, what do you need me to do?” “Just move among the trees, and get ready to help them if a Rahi attacks. I will follow from the air, but you can be closer to them.” “Um, okay,” Kanohi nodded. He … he was going to be guarding so close up. Like the first line of defense. He … his hands fluttered like a Nui-Kopen’s wings. He … he really was helping Okoto. And maybe, if he got to be a better hero, even when the league attacked, he could help evacuate Matoran and rescue them, while Toa Fehagah fought the league. And with her able to focus solely on fighting, maybe this time she could win. Mata-Nui had given him this vision of the future for a reason, he had to believe that. And whatever that wad reason, it had to be to help Okoto, to do what his future self failed to do and save his people. Not that he was better than that future self, that Kanohi had disks with strange powers that came out of a weapon, he had strange technology in his mask that let him aim his launchers better as well communicate from long distances. The Kanohi of Okoto lacked those abilities. But maybe one day? It seemed possible at least?
  3. 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. sprite made with the Danska’s Bionicle Builder sprite kit 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. New The Willing Exiles: A short story taking place post Mask of Light, in the months when the Turaga tell the legends of Metru-Nui. For some Matoran there is a disconnect with the great city, they feel no attachment to it, Mata-Nui is their home. For others, the revelations the Turaga give are almost a betrayal, as the knowledge they withheld could have helped some outcasts be less isolated. Kanohi feels both, and his bond with Turaga Vakama is damaged. 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? Those We Choose to Forget: A story taking place in a poor village of Mahri-Koro on the shores of Aqua-Magna, millennia after the Makuta’s defeat. Here Turaga Macku is swimming, when the Chronicler of Spherus-Magna comes on a visit, asking for a forgotten tale. 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. The Willing Exiles: 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. Kanohi: Rebirth An alternate timeline spinning off of Six Kingdoms Escapement, where a version of Kanohi in his past experiences a vision of the events of the first season of the incredible Bionicle RPG. Knowing that his homeland may be destroyed, he resolves to become a vigilante hero early, to prevent the horrible future from coming to pass. The Impact of a Rebirth: After having a vision of a future, noted failure Kanohi resolves to help his Toa and his island as a vigilante. His first struggle? To help rescue Matoran as a fire raged in their swamp of an island. 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.
  4. 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.
  5. 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.
  6. 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.
  7. ok so there is alot i did in the helicopter and a small batcave which i will expaind on and i have a bunch of minifigs and this will be awhille so one post at a time https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0SGNJQW9USnJJR0U/view?usp=sharing https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0Yk5KUndVT0pzWTQ/view?usp=sharing https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0WEg2T0tnU1FqbElYTUlBSlRQQnpSaVNWdVBj/view?usp=sharing https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0TWtTNm5sT1ZWRXZoMTNSVVhsQXlpU2hZTndN/view?usp=sharing https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0MlhfREZnbHhwNWpVQmpYQzBURUc5VVA3dzY0/view?usp=sharing https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0RVdKQ0dsS2VkdjJ4d1RqQWM0SjJmVl9wYmw4/view?usp=sharing note the blades are like that because i couldnt find enough of them in purple but i had enough in blue minifigs are twoface joker superman catwoman bane(isnt in and pictures) robin(same as bane) mr freeze harley quinn joker goon batman https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0NE9Ec3laSVJFZUo1eGFzaHN2YTN4QzVMdEtZ/view?usp=sharing genral zod( i dont have one best i could do) https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0eE9BaUx5bVlUNUxfVmFtc1h0bTE0RXRaUEpV/view?usp=sharing https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0anBTU0s3QjNFVHEyZnVzTWdqR3I1ZEVPTzUw/view?usp=sharing riddler(hat included) https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0N0lHWDhJR3dLdXp2MmJWZHYtQ1NWbzk2cTgw/view?usp=sharing https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0TzZhWThkd2JOY1NBc25UME9MNUlxU2x1eHFv/view?usp=sharing and two face goon(pants and hat are diffrent) https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0VzNpY3JCZHoyTzBGUkhoRzhGMUdtUHBlUC13/view?usp=sharing also minifig but just used for decaration peice of armor https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0UHNkUFplZWxQWWFCMW9xMjJxSmJTY1VKdWJR/view?usp=sharing batcave(smallest part of moc lol) https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0elQ0NlpUWDhIdVhtWjVsdEhNd0pUY0tPQ2o0/view?usp=sharing https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0WE4tOFVUTDVWQVM2d3pCUEdhRkRTaEstSmR3/view?usp=sharing https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0b3FBSUNGdHBNUUlxeF9kcURlWGJ2U3lEOTJR/view?usp=sharing https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0YUIwU3NrdlpOSWt0RGJmMFJXaHN1ckxTVEF3/view?usp=sharing kryponite inside safe https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_AnWmSz9V-0VGY0QVpPaWdabVh0enZDTzZiM0lIYl9FWHNz/view?usp=sharing
  8. Just saw the movie today. It was really awesome, probably the best X-Men movie yet. It was even better because I just watched First Class like a week ago, so I didn't have to go back and rewatch anything to understand what was going on. Really loved Young!Charles and Young!Erik the most, TBH. Their actors are just really good. Definitely looking forward to X-Men: Apocalypse, which is coming out in 2016. If it's gonna be anything like Days, it is probably going to be awesome. -TNTOS-
  9. When it's time to call in the heroes, you assemble a few extras from your collection to amass a grand team. What does that include? Cyborg, Supergirl, Aquaman, the Superior Spider-Man*, Agent Venom, Namor, Maria Hill, Wasp, Ant-Man, and Rogue! And a little revisioning to War Machine? Finally, a WIP of Hawkman: The mace is from Brick Forge. They're awesome. Coming soon: Green Arrow, Iceman (actually just Electro. Maybe I'll find some white hair.), and some new Doctor Who minifigs. I've got the official Flash fig (and Aquaman, and Martian Manhunter), but if only I could get some sort of Green Lantern fig... -CF *Still a WIP
  10. Synopsis: Mutants are simply humans who have a genetic mutation that gives them an astonishing and sometimes dangerous superhuman power. Every mutant has the X-Gene within them, though the power it gives a mutant is unique for every one. The X-Gene can be passed down through heredity, but two normal human parents can also have a mutant child. Scientists have called mutants the next step in human evolution, but society as a whole looks at mutants with fear. They fear their power, and they fear what the do not understand. America is in an uproar over what they should do about the mutants, and violence and protests have broken out all over.Certain politicians move against mutants, while others aim to help them. So Charles Xavier formed the X-Men to help create peace with mutants and man-kind. The X-Men would were a powerful combat team that accomplished many amazing missions, and helped protect innocent lives. They defeated Apocalypse, the Brotherhood of Mutants, and many other threats in their time. They helped bridge the gap between homo-sapiens and homo-superior (mutants). Many years ago Charles Xavier opened the Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters. He created a school that would be a safe place for mutants to attend and to get an education. But the school would also harbor his secret team of fighter’s, the X-Men. Not all students were in the X-Men, and not all X-Men were students in the school, though they could be both, most of them were too old to be in high-school and some of them are teachers in the school instead. The X-Men suffered many crises. Apocalypse, the Civil War and even M-Day. Except in this Marvel universe M-Day was reversed by Scarlet Witch months after the disaster.But seventeen years ago everything changed. The Phoenix came back from the dead and allied herself with Magneto, and subsequently killed off almost all of the X-Men; including Professor X. She then turned on the Brotherhood of Mutants, wiping them out as well. In the end Jean Grey went to the grave once again as Wolverine ended her life, but she managed to turn him to ashes before he was finished. It seemed like all was lost, that the X-Men had finally collapsed. But a lone survivor, the X-Men known as Beast had survived the blood-bath. He returned to the mansion, and reopened the school, now as the new Dean and leader of the X-Men. Now seventeen years after that terrible day, Beast has recreated the X-Men, with his own group of bright-eyed teens and gifted youngsters.It turns out that Quicksilver, survived as well, and he took up his father’s mantle as leader of the Brotherhood of Mutants, he has now grown the size of his organization, as new mutants have joined the faction. The brotherhood is very much the opposite of the X-Men; they work against peace, and strive to cause a war between humans and mutants, a war that Beast fears would be the extinction of both sides.Even more ominous, a corporation known as Weapon X has survived all these years. They were the ones responsible for implanting the adamantium into Wolverine, and many other terrible deeds. They have now captured a team of mutants, and turned them all into their personal weapons, and they plan to use them for evil. The Sentinel’s are still around, their one function is to hunt down certain mutants and kill them for the good of mankind. They are mutant killers, and they are highly efficient at it. The newly re-formed X-Men and the newly reformed Brotherhood of Mutants have yet to clash; but soon they will and everything will be changed forever. Staff: GM: Flex Capacitor Staff: .:Advent Aeternale:. Rules: 1. You must post IC when you are speaking “in character,” and OOC when you are speaking “out of character.”2. Don’t take control of other players’ characters without their permission.3. If your character is in a position where there is no way to escape or survive they will and can die.4. No god-modding. You can’t ignore physics and you especially can’t ignore your characters’ weaknesses. No auto-hitting! Also you must allow your character to be injured, it’s part of the fun of fighting.5. Double posting should not happen.6. Remember that if you’re fighting other mutant NPCs, or Sentinels, you can’t just blast your way through an army of them, they are still strong. Now, humans on the other hand, most mutants would be able to mop up a large number of them.7. Limit of 10 characters total. Try not to make too many that some of your character's don't get enough attention etc, be responsible and only take on as many as you can handle.8. And as always, all regular BZPower rules apply9. Avoid straight OOC posts, if your gonna post post IC too. Warnings and Offenses: Numbers equal warnings for each offense 1. Warning. 2. Character mortally wounded. 3. Character death. 4. Several day ban. 5. All characters killed. 6. Permanent ban. Character Rules: 1. Try to avoid making your character overpowered, if you are a mutant, stick to two to three different powers tops!2. If you’re a member of the X-Men you don’t use weapons, unless they are a part of your power. Most mutants don’t use them period, but if you’re a human, then yes you can use weapons.3. No canon characters from X-Men or Marvel allowed. If you want to play as a character similar to existing X-Men; then make them similar. Also, you are permitted to make your character, the child of existing X-Men. This RP is obviously non-canon, so children of known X-Men can exist, as long as they have some level of originality.6. Your character is not omniscient. Everything they know has to be learned in some way.7. And most importantly, your character MUST be approved by a staff member before you post as that character. Mansion Layout: Here is a layout of the mansion and grounds so you guys know what’s on what floor and all of the rooms for the mansion.Reference for the mansion and estateBasement- Blackbird hanger, Dangeroom, Cerebro, X-Men only medical wing, Hanks’ lab, war-room, armory, interrogation roomThe Basement is a metal underground base; the hallways are completely made out of metal, with large oval shaped doors that open when you approach them with X’s on the front. Cerebro is a long metal hallway that opens up to a large abyss, which is actually a massive circular metal room. At the end of the lone hallway is the Cerebro consol, which only Ashlynn Summers can use. The Blackbird hanger is a massive metal hanger room, which the Blackbird sits in. The Blackbird is a large black, futuristic jet that belongs to the X-Men.Reference for the basement levelThe Dangeroom is a large metal room, with specialized machine traps and obstacles the X-Men must face while training. It also has very realistic and believable holograms for training, and the illusions the walls can create are quite advanced. The war-room; is a simple metal room, where the X-Men are called to meet before missions. It has an advanced computer system within the room that Beast uses to display things for the team, or search for information.First floor- Classrooms, library, teacher’s offices, computer lab, dinning room, kitchen, student cafeteria, lobbyThe first floor has brick walls, with nice paintings and expensive furniture, the library is large, and filled with many books, with large open windows that show the grounds outside. When you enter the mansion through the front door, you see the front of the house, and a large grand stair-case that leads up to the rest of the floors.For reference, first floor is in this styleSecond floor- student dorms, one for girls one for boys, School wide medical wingThe second floor has white walls, with white and black décor. It has many windows in the dorms, and each room for each student can be decorated the way they’d like, with personal items like Xbox 360 etc.Third floor- staff bedrooms, guestrooms, Beasts office, empty room for partiesThe third floor also has brick walls, except for the rooms for each of the staff, which is painted, and decorated however they like. Beast’ office is large, with a well polished wooden desk, large open windows, and shelves full of books. The office used to belong to the late Professor Xavier, there is a picture of Xavier still in the office, along with a picture of Beast.Mansion ground- pool, basketball court, garageThe pool is a large swimming pool for staff and students alike to enjoy, same with the basketball court, which is an outside court, with six hoops. The garage is a large separate garage; that has about ten cars in it, which all used to belong to past X-Men, or Xavier. X-Men are allowed to take them out if needed, but students are not allowed to drive them without permission, thought that doesn’t stop a few of them from breaking the rules. Factions: X-Men- The X-Men are a group of mutants founded by Charles Xavier. The original X-Men all died, all of them except for Beast. Beast has reformed the X-Men with all new members; the new X-Men are soldiers, fighting for Xavier's dream of peaceful coexistence with mankind. Even though Xavier is dead, this dream is now slowly being forged into reality.The Brotherhood of Mutants- The Brotherhood is a group of rogue mutants who are lead by the powerful mutant Quicksilver. The faction was founded by Xavier’s arch enemy Magneto, but after his death his son took over. Their goal is to bring down mankind and put mutants at the top of society; if this means killing all of the humans on earth than so be it.The Enforcers- The Enforcers, are a relatively new group, they were formed in the last seventeen years. They were created by the American Government, by the same people who created the Sentinels. They are a group of average humans who want to wipe out all mutants. Mutants must register with the government by law, and if they don’t they are legally allowed to be killed without trial. They will stop at nothing until all mutants are erased from the face of the earth. They used special high-tech technologies and Mech-suits to compensate for their lack of powers.Weapon X- Weapon X is a shadow organization run by unknown persons. They are obsessed with mutants with healing abilities and have created their own personal force of powerful mutants. These mutants are usually, captured, brainwashed and experimented on. They are then used as assassins to take out high paid contacts for the organization, or dangerous missions to further Weapon-X's lucrative goals. Recently the Weapon-X facility in Canada has been destroyed by the X-Men and the Brotherhood of Mutants. There seems to be little loyal Weapon-X members left. The Hellfire Club- The Hellfire Club is a secretive cult within the upper echelon of human and mutant society. The Hellfire Club was founded in the 18th century, and even today many members adhere to an 18th century dress code. Additionally, the hierarchy of the Inner Circle is modeled on the pieces of a chess set, with Black and White sets of Kings, Queens, Bishops and Rooks and Knights. The soldiers and grunts that the Club control are the Pawns. The Club counts among its members some of the most powerful, wealthy and influential members of society. Membership is passed on to descendants, and can also be earned through wealth, influence or power.While many accept the invitation simply for the pleasures that the Club offers, others seek wealth and a place of power. In fact, the purpose of the Hellfire Club is to obtain and exert power through politics and economic influence instead of outward conquest and domination, though since after many years of these tactics not working they are going to more unconventional means. Since its foundation, the Hellfire Club has been involved in wars and assassinations to further the agendas of the Club's most powerful members.SHIELD: SHIELD stands for: Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. SHIELD. is an extra-government intelligence and security organization dedicated to protecting the nations and peoples of Earth from all threats, terrestrial or extraterrestrial. SHIELD was organized to meet the threat of the highly technological subversive organization called Hyrda. Its current Executive Director is Colonel Nicholas Fury, an ex- C.I.A. operative. SHIELD’s Supreme Headquarters is the huge mobile Helicarrier, but there are also regional offices in all the major cities of the free world and several secret bases in Communist countries. Although most of SHIELD’s operations are covert, the organization’s existence is known to general public. SHIELD. even maintains public offices in several cities. There are two teams that are affiliated with SHIELD. Neo-Avengers- Group of children of the original Avengers, led my Patriot. No spots currently available. Pantheon- A SHIELD strike team that uses the names of mythos gods as their codenames, main directive is to stop disasters before they occur. Location: The RP takes place primarily in NYC and New York State; but characters will be allowed to travel to other locations if they chose to. Also some missions within the story will take place in other countries and locations, which will be accessible by the Blackbird (The X-Men’s jet). To Join: Simply fill out this form and post it in the topic:Name: (Your full-name)Codename: (Your superhero/villain name)Age:Gender:Faction: (X-Men, Brotherhood of Mutants, the Enforcers, Hellfire Club, SHIELD or Weapon-X)Power(S): (Choose your power here. If you want to have a power, or powers, you must pick between one to three powers. For example: Telekinesis, flight, super strength.Appearance: (What your character looks like)Weapons: (Be realistic, X-Men won’t use these, most Brotherhood won’t either, Weapon-X members and Enforcer’s can have them)Skills: (Things your character is good at.)Personality: (Your character’s personality)Weakness: (Every-one should have one)Bio: (How and when did your character come to Xavier’s School for the Gifted Youngsters? When did they join the X-Men or the Brotherhood etc) Important NPC List:
  11. Welcome, to the new Darkest Days Discussion topic. Here you can have all those little OOC discussions that you couldn't have before. I would request, however, that for the reference of staff and your fellow players that you repost your profiles at the start of the topic. They're getting hard to find. Not mandatory, but it would be helpful. And if you decide to do so, those of you who know how to use spoiler tags, that would also be appreciated. Because otherwise things will get a bit too chaotic in the first few posts.
  12. so, given my name is a superhero movie, i figured i'd do some reviews. let's start from earliest to latest, mkay? (fun fact: i went to the midnight premiere of all of these. another fun fact: i will use the highest level of grammar i possibly can in these reviews, excuse me if i slip up) any italicized sentences are usually my one-line reviews i put up on rotten tomatoes, in case you were wondering. also, i loved spider-man more than any of them, no matter what my rating says. The Avengers (rating: A, 4.5/5) Let's start this review by saying one thing: there was only one thing wrong with The Avengers. That was Hulk's pulsing, glowing green eyes. They weren't there! There were two scenes that really, really needed them to complete the feeling of the Hulk in that movie. One was when he turned around mid-transformation to the Black Widow, Scarlett Johansson's character, and when he said one of the best lines in the movie: "That's my secret, Captain: I'm always angry." Hands down, that was one of my favorite scenes, but I would've felt more "Oh s@&t, the Hulk's coming" if his eyes just turned. And don't get me wrong, his eyes were green, but they were a dark green. Almost like how our brown eyes look like black dots sometimes, the Hulk's eyes just weren't prominent, and that's one thing I loved about 2008's The Incredible Hulk and one thing I would've loved to see in The Avengers. Well, also, they didn't mention Cobie Smulders's character's name once. At least I knew it was Maria Hill before I went into the movie. Now, other that, I thought the movie was PERFECT. Robert Downey, Jr. brought the wittiness and the sarcasm his Tony Stark had in the previous two films, Scarlett Johansson was arguably hotter in this one than in Iron Man 2, (though no matter how gorgeous she is, I feel they should've cast someone else as Natasha. Anyone else?) Chris Hemsworth, while relatively unknown before Thor, actually did a good job fighting the Hulk, (I was HOPING for that as I went in. I grew up watching the Bixby series.) and Mark Ruffalo was a perfect Bruce Banner. His mannerisms, such as rubbing together his hands, his constant signs of paranoia like looking around nervously, it just made me feel more for the character. He's a fugitive and a beast, and he has no idea the next time he'll lose control. Jeremy Renner's Hawkeye was different, yet acceptable. Good actor, and he did a good job as the master archer. However, I want to talk about Chris Evans's character, Captain America. Very different from the Captain America in 2011's film The First Avenger, but yet the same. He's still willing to sacrifice himself before others, he wants to go down with a fight. Very... altruistic. But he's also different. He's in a different world, one he's not used to. Everyone he's loved or cared about has been long dead. I feel like we see a darker version of him, one that's not as accepting as he used to be. And, in comparison with Fantastic Four 1 & 2 (ugh), he did a great job conveying that. He's a better Captain America than Johnny Storm. The fight scenes were great. Loved the beginning Captain America vs. Loki, loved Iron Man/Thor/Captain America three-way fight, loved the Avengers beating the bajesus out of the Chitauri, and my FAVORITE will be Hulk vs. Thor, just because I had that sense of nostalgia and childhood shoot up through me. Plus, Joss Whedon directed this film, and I admire his works. He turned a comedy about a cheerleader that hunts the supernatural into an awesome show and he made one of my favorites, Firefly. (Nathan Fillion, by the way, is one of my picks for the upcoming Ant-Man film, but Fillion doesn't want to do it.) So I tip my metaphorical hat to you, Mr. Whedon. Overall, The Avengers is a fantastic superhero film that utilizes the abilities of their fantastic list of actors and isn't ever trumped by the music or the usual loud, obscene sounds that dominate most superhero movies. But please, don't mention Coulson. The Amazing Spider-Man (rating: B+, 4.5/5) When they first announced the cancellation and reboot of my favorite superhero, I was surprised. I had mixed feelings about it. I was simultaneously ###### off, and yet intrigued. I began trying to form ideas of what their plot would be, to the extent of writing my own script. A year later, they announced the villain and the first shot of the suit, and I got mad. I hated the suit. What I hated more, however, were the fan "gossip", I guess you could call it. "There's a lack of dirt around his hips, maybe he's wearing a belt" was the one that made me the most angry. Then a month later we got a shot with the mask on, and I had some anger repressed. I thought the eyes looked like the dot shading they did for comics back then, the common way of doing shadows. Then trailers, posters, featurettes, TV spots, all were being released and my hope for this movie just built up and up and finally, when the night of July 2nd came and I had gotten out of work, I was stoked. And I couldn't have asked for a better night. A movie, however, yeah. Don't get me wrong, I LOVED this film. LOVED. My favorite film this summer. Only because Spider-Man was in it, though. The Amazing Spider-Man started with an intro similar to the Raimi films, and I had that feeling of nostalgia. I also had the feeling of ripping off, not so much "homage". However, as the beginning sequence went on, I started to just forget that there were 3 other films and I grew to accept that this was a stand-alone film, and that made this a better film for me. The parents of Peter, whom we've never seen, having something suspicious hidden that was worth breaking into. Peter Parker, a smart guy, but he's an outcast and he's grown to want to rebel against the world around him. He doesn't like to talk to people, he just grows away from them and his wanting to go against the machine just expands. He generally has a good heart, though. In one scene, Flash Thompson is bullying a kid by shoving his face in his food. Peter stops him, (though he has to go to extents by using Flash's real name, Eugene) and then he goes over to see if the kid is okay. Well, before being punched in the face by Flash. But I thought that showed that his heart was in the right direction, he just needed a push. That push actually came in two parts: the spider bite, and Uncle Ben's untimely death. There were actually multiple pushes in this movie. His parents, the spider bite, Uncle Ben, Captain Stacy, etc. The one that starts the chain of dominoes, however, is actually a flood in the basement. Peter finds his father's old book bag as he's moving stuff out of the flooding basement, and finds out about Dr. Connors. In a rather humorous scene, he "borrows" the identity of an Oscorp intern and goes to meet Dr. Connors. (One thing I like about this scene is that he passes by a 3d hologram of Norman Osborn, the Green Goblin, who is silhouetted. For some reason, the hologram reminded me of Kevin Bacon.) The scene where Peter talks about the theory of cross-species genetics was a little way of showing his intellect, and the talk between him and Gwen Stacy, portrayed by the lovely Emma Stone, was nice, ("I would say that I work here, but you actually work here, so you know for a fact that I don't actually work here.") but the thing that I was anxiously waiting for was the spider bite. The bite that makes Peter who he is, the amazing, spectacular, sensational and astonishing Spider-Man. But to my surprise, it didn't happen the way it did in the trailer. And as the movie went on, I realized a lot of things didn't happen like they did in the trailer. Some scenes were cut, too. Earlier in the film, when Peter investigates his father's bag, he finds a file with an equation labeled the 00 Decay Rate Algorithm. (I liked this nod to the Ultimate comics, where the spider that bit Peter was designated #00 because of the numbers on it's back) Well, upon observing Dr. Rajit Ratha, Connors and his father's superior, he breaks into the 00 testing lab, where he finds Oscorp-branded biocable, (which he later uses to make his webbing) and it's testing in manufactured spiders. Upon plucking the strands of biocable, he causes a brief shutdown and all the company-bred spiders land on Peter, one hiding in his collar. Upon leaving, the spider bites him, and he experiences his first encounter with his powers on the subway, after sticking to a ceiling and ripping a woman's shirt off. I liked Andrew Garfield's mannerisms as Peter, especially after he gets bit, such as him catching the fly and eyeing it as if it were a snack, or how some things bother him. Smashing his alarm clock was one of my favorites. They managed to pull off Ben's death without the wrestling arena well, but I felt Raimi's Spider-Man had a more emotional way with Peter and Uncle Ben. Peter uses his abilities to try and find Ben's killer, but after his suspect (which turns out NOT to be Ben's murderer) screams, "I saw your face!", Peter gets the idea for a mask. He also crashes into a lucha libre arena, and sees a giant mask that gives him the concept for the final mask. Then he's sitting upside down in his room making his costume, using old watches to make new web shooters, he's doing all these things to improve his vigilantism. One thing I liked about this one is that it actually shows him making his costume. He's sewing his prototype mask, he's painting the spider on the back of his suit, he's using sunglasses to make lenses on his mask. Tobey Maguire's Spider-Man just drew pictures of his suit, and drawing is a lot easier than doing. James Horner's score gave this triumphant burst of music when Spidey first stands on a building in his final costume during the sunset, and then he's off again to catch Uncle Ben's killer. However, a visit to Gwen's house gives him the sad realization that he's chasing the same guy and actually not helping people at all. Then romance, with okay dialogue but Emma and Andrew try to make the best of it, and then a WAY-TOO-SOON identity reveal. Then Peter is off. During this film, Ratha is pressuring Connors to make this serum to cure Norman Osborn, who is dying of a terminal illness. (Which springs so many theories! My main one is that Norman is cured, but it leaves him with dual personalities, creating a case like the Sam Raimi films where Norman wants to do right but he's overpowered by his second personality- the Goblin. My second theory is that he turns into a beast like the Ultimate comics.) However, with Ratha rushing due dates, he fires Connors and plans on testing the serum on veteran's under the guise of flu shots. Well Connors can't let that happen, so he takes the serum himself... and regrows his right arm! Hallelujah! But on the down side, he turns into a giant lizard and he does the only good thing in the entire film, and that's stopping Ratha from turning a bunch of veterans into giant lizards as well. Buuuuut he's still flinging cars off bridges, so Spider-Man has to go and intervene. After Connors starts changing back and leaves the incident, and Spider-Man saves a kid, the father asks "Who are you?" And in arguably the best line of the film, Peter announces the one thing I've been waiting to hear. "I'm Spider-Man." And that is when I fist pumped in the theater and smiled like a fool. This review is getting more of a plot summary, so I'll just try to sum up the rest of the film. Spidey gets an arrest warrant on his head. He also goes down into the sewers to encounter the Lizard head-on. In a clever way, he sets up a web trap, where he connects strands to tunnels so any movements in those tunnels would create vibrations, which would lead back to him. He fights the Lizard and somehow finds out who he is, and vice versa. He tries to tell Captain Stacy that Godzilla is ambushing NYC, which Captain Stacy thinks is stupid but asks others to get info on Connors anyways. Earlier in the film, Peter points out the Ganali device, which Connors describes as creating a cloud over a space as large as NYC, but Oscorp never allowed it because it could be used as a nuclear device, or a way of declaring biological war. So Connor figures, "Hey, Ratha was kinda right. Being a lizard is awesome, so everyone should experience it!" So after a brief debacle between him and Spider-Man at Midtown High (excuse me, Midtown SCIENCE High- which is weird), eventually ending with Spider-Man winning in an awesome way by webbing Connors up in a cocoon, he goes back down to the sewers, takes a higher dosage of the Lizard serum so he can be a giant lizard longer, and plans on stealing the Ganali device to turn everyone into a lizard. Peter follows him (maskless, for some strange reason) and calls Gwen to go to Oscorp and find the file on the lizard cure. (How he knows about this is also weird. It also made me realize that 12389, the file number, is a weird number.) He then goes back to the surface, is ambushed by Captain Stacy, beats the living ###### out of his squad, but couldn't bother to web his face and swing away. Nope, instead he turns around, reveals his identity, and gets shot in the leg. You could've gone when they were all unconscious, Spidey! But the scene was done for 1.) more ways to throw his identity about and 2.) to establish trust between Capt. Stacy and Peter. The Lizard gives a SWAT team a dose of his lovely lizard serum in a gaseous form, then breaks into Oscorp, finds a hiding Gwen with the Ganali device, doesn't bother to hurt Gwen, (because why would you hurt Emma Stone? <3) and then sets it up with the lizard serum. All while Gwen is making the antidote. Wow. So, anyways, Peter webs up his leg and, in a kind of Olympic matter where he's standing alone, there's a spot light on him, the father from earlier moving cranes on a path to Oscorp, he swings and... misses. BUT THEN HE CATCHES SOME BUILDING MATERIALS BEING PULLED UP, and he resumes swinging to Oscorp, where he fights the Lizard. The Lizard breaks his web shooters and rips off his mask, and claims Peter is all alone, before Captain Stacy shows up with a shotgun and starts shooting the Lizard. Peter knocks him into a pit full of liquid nitrogen tanks and he freezes the Lizard. Stacy shoots him a couple times, but the Lizard regenerates and kills Captain Stacy. (NOOOOOOOOO DENIS LEARY) One of the hoses freezes the bottom of the antenna- the one the Ganali device is on. Peter is trying to switch out the serum for the antidote, but the Lizard grabs his leg and, with seconds before New York City is New Lizard City, he switches it successfully. The cloud cures the SWAT team and Connors, but doesn't save Denis Leary. Peter falls and Connors catches him and watches as his arm falls to pieces and blows away in the dust. Captain Stacy makes Peter stay away from Gwen, and then he dies. Peter stands on the edge of Oscorp, looking out on the city and he sighs. Probably thinking, "What a day." Obviously, he doesn't stay away from Gwen and he does this awesome ending swing which involves him shooting out of a crane and about to shoot a web while he's against a very bright moon and doves fly out behind him. It's my iPhone wallpaper. In an mid-credits scene, a man asks Connors if he told the truth about Peter's dad, to which Connors says no and screams he should leave Peter alone, to which this man just disappears. They confirmed it wasn't Norman, so Electro? There were a lot of plot holes in this film and a lot in the trailer we didn't see in the movie. There were some inconsistencies, too. (How does Peter have the same prescription that his dad had? How did he get a box of biocable unnoticed? Why does his suit have more damage coming out of the sewers than it did going in? Where does Dr. Ratha go after the bridge scene?) This made me upset. But, because it's Spider-Man, I had to push that aside and love what I did see, and that was a good movie. Also, I loved the score. It gets stuck in my head, just like The Avengers score and the original Danny Elfman score. Overall, aside from obvious scene cuts and the resulting plot holes, The Amazing Spider-Man is a self-explanatory film that has an enjoyable cast and a intense plot, and it leaves you wanting more after the end. The Dark Knight Rises (rating: A-, 4.5/5) Coming soon. I'm too lazy to write this review.
  13. This topic, by the way, could be used to discuss the comic just as well as the movie.Anyway, I saw it today and concur that it was awesome, and of the movies leading up to it, it was certainly the best. It looks like they truly were building up to something grander then all the rest combined. My congratulations go to the ensemble cast, their surprising chemistry, the humor, the suspense, and the climactic battle scene.Remember to use spoiler tags where necessary. For those of you who have to avoid the spoiler tags, do yourself a favor and watch the film. This has definitely been the best superhero film in a while, up there with the Christopher Nolan Batman trilogy and the cheesy-yet-lovable Superman II.Your Honor,Emperor Kraggh
  14. It's late and I'm tired, so I'm just going to post the stuff and maybe update it with some commentary later.[flash=400,300]http-~~-//vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=32428241&server=vimeo.com&show_title=0&show_byline=0&show_portrait=0&color=00ADEF&fullscreen=1.swf The computer I usually use is busted, so I couldn't fix the sideways pictures. It's also late, so I couldn't take better quality pictures. Sorry. I hope you liked it anyway, and be sure to vote for it in the BBC!
  15. While these aren't Hero Factory sets persay, they use the same building system and pieces that HF has used since 2.0. As such I think this is a fitting place to post a topic for discussion about them. Here's a gallery consisting of the officially released pictures of the boxart (as of now). Confirmed sets include: Batman - $14.99The Joker - $14.99Green Lantern - $14.99Captain America - $14.99Hulk - $14.99Iron Man - $14.99 The DC Universe sets are the only ones that have had their Box Art officially released, however the Marvel sets (bar Captain America) were show at Comic-Con earlier this year. Those can also be found in the gallery above. My opinions on these are that they are best for their pieces (Purple and Mata Green cladding? Yes please), but as far the actual sets go, they're somewhat lacking. Except Iron Man, because he actually looks like he belongs seeing as he's in robotic armor. Discuss. -Mesonak
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