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Paradise Final Poll


Paradise Final Poll  

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Paradise Final Poll

 

Vote here for your favorite Paradise story. Please MAKE SURE YOU READ ALL ENTRIES BEFORE VOTING.Voting begins now and will end on July 17th at 11:59 PM PST. The entry with the most votes will be the winner of the Paradise theme and will then be either judged or polled against the winners of the other themes.

 

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Choice #1:

 

"Passing Through Paradise"

The sun blazes down, scorching the back of my neck. The sand beneath me is blistering; I feel as though I’m walking barefoot on a frying pan. My mouth burns; my throat is dry as cotton – it’s been forty-eight hours since I poured the last drop of water in my canteen through my chapped lips. The pack on my back seems as heavy as an obese kikanalo; with every step I take it threatens to pull me to the ground. But I trudge on.

Where I’m going is not important – all you must know is that this desert lies between me and my destination. I have lost count of the years I’ve spent out here, pushing ever onward towards my goal. Years? you question. Yes, I know. It amazes me as well, sometimes, when I pause to contemplate it. I am no Toa; I claim no great powers to ease the path before me. I am but a Matoran, a single, weak being alone in a sea of sand. But my goal lies ahead, and I must reach it. And because I must do so, I will.

I reach the crest of the dune and halt for a brief moment to observe the landscape. Sand. More sand. And, off in the distance, a small dark speck.

It is not until hours later that the speck becomes a narrow swath of green in the midst of the endless tan. An oasis. A sliver of paradise in a world of endless pain.

It is hours still before I reach it, but at last the sand turns to grass beneath my feet. The foliage radiates from a pool of water, deep and clear. I unshoulder my pack by its shore, dip my canteen into its depths. The water is cool and pure, life in the midst of death. I fill the vessel and seat myself beneath a towering palm, the tree shielding me, protecting me from the merciless sun. As I drink I dig my feet into the ground, relishing the feel of grass between my toes.

I finish off the canteen and turn to the tree, wrapping my arms around its long, limbless trunk and pulling myself upwards. I manage the climb on willpower alone; my strength, certainly, is not sufficient to carry me to the top. I draw my knife and cut free a cluster of bananas before dropping to the ground myself. I peel one of the fruits and eat it slowly, enjoying the sweetness that fills my mouth and the fullness that barely begins to fill my belly. I continue in this manner for the remainder of the day – drinking, sitting, climbing, eating. At dusk I curl up on the ground, grateful to be able to sleep on the soft grass rather than my coarse bedroll.

The next morning I wake, bathe, and begin again my routine of eating and drinking. I have gone long without water and longer without food; my energy must be replenished. I search the rest of the oasis, finding nuts, berries, and more fruits. No rahi have made their homes here, it seems, which is somewhat unfortunate – meat it would’ve been nice to have a bit of meat. Nonetheless, I gather what I can and return to the pool.

The next day, too, follows a similar pattern, but with the added task of drying and preserving any food I can find. By the end of the day my supplies have been replenished.

I wake the following morning and bathe quickly before refilling each of my canteens. I take a final sip of the pool’s cool water before shouldering my pack.

An hour later the sun is again scorching my neck; the sand is again blistering my feet. My throat is again dry and my lips are again chapped. Again my pack threatens to drag me to the ground. Paradise is behind. My goal is ahead.

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Choice #2:

"He Got It from the Discount Aisle"

“Well this is shameful.”

“I’ll say.”

(Gosh, Artakha! Such a mythical, wonderful place of rest for hard-working Matoran. And hey, no boring work! It might as well be paradise.

So…this was Artakha?)

“I don’t think this is Artakha, Moden.”

“Ridiculous. Didn’t you see the sign? The sign said Artakha. It was on the sign. ‘Artakha.’ In big fat round letters.”

“No, I know but, this…wasn’t this meant to be a sort of paradise realm?”

“It’s not…that…bad.”

“Yes. Yes it is. We were promised something more paradise…ey. Paradisical? Parasitical. Paradispy? Paradingy.”

“You done?”

“Paradissiful?”

“I think the proper term is paradical.”

“That doesn’t sound right at all.”

“Either way, I don’t disagree that this is a poor fit for our expectations, but maybe they were just too high.”

“Moden?”

“Yes, Qoroo?”

“The ground is screaming. The freaking ground is literally freaking screaming right now. That the ground not be screaming is not ‘high expectations,’ unless you are seriously deranged.”

“…You’re right. This is just…wrong.”

“Right.”

“…but maybe we’ll get used to it!”

“Moden.”

“Yes?”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.”

“You are acting like a total imbecile right now.”

“That’s harsh, brother.”

“We are not staying here, and I don’t care what the sign says, this isn’t Artakha!”

(So I suppose we’re leaving. Qoroo is right, obviously. This…place can’t possibly be Artakha. It’s preposterous. And we simply cannot stay.

But…what can we do? My arm won’t work. Qoroo doesn’t say anything, but I know his eye pains him, and his foot must be killing him. The trip here was hard enough. Where will we go?)

“What are those?”

“I…think we should head back.”

“Now that, my young friends, is a wonderful idea!”

(This day just keeps getting better. Monster crabs. Gold and black-armored giants.

Just.

Great day.)

“Tell me, good Matoran, why would you ever want to leave my realm? Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Sir, no disrespect, but we were seeking Artakha.”

“Artakha? Why would you ever want to go to that awful place? This here is Karzahni! A brighter paradise couldn’t have been imagined by the Great Beings themselves.”

“So this isn’t Artakha! I knew it.”

“Why would you ever think my realm was anything like that terrible island?”

“Uh. It was the sign, sir. The sign that said Artakha.”

“Oh, that old thing? I thought I tore it down ages ago. Oh, but I’m ever so sorry to have misled you with my sign. That was unfortunate…or rather, rather fortunate. Now you have the chance to stay on Karzahni, which is far superior! Indeed, follow me!”

(That…guy… has gotten all excited and run ahead. Me, I can’t figure it out. This place…how can it possibly be a paradise, by any standard?)

“That guy is insane.”

“I noticed.”

“Where did he even get this ‘paradise’?”

“I don’t know. But wherever he got it…”

“He got ripped off.”

“Yeah. I know.”

------------------------------------

Choice #3:

"Paradise? What Paradise?"

A paradise. That was what they called this island. A paradise.

Agni wouldn’t currently call it a paradise. It felt more like Karzahni.

It was raining; the downpour drenched Agni and turned the ground around him to mud. He was wet and cold and miserable.

Normally he wouldn’t feel like this in Ta-Wahi. In fact, those in Ta-Koro were not in such a state. The heat of the lava around them turned much of the rain to steam, and even then, the fact that they had roofed huts protected them from the precipitation.

But Agni was not in Ta-Koro. Instead, he a guard was stationed in the burnt forest, on the lookout for Rahi. The remains of the trees offered no cover from the torrential rains. Winds swept across the land and sprayed the rain water through his mask and into his eyes.

This was not what paradise was supposed to be like.

Agni heard something hit the ground nearby. Perhaps one of the dead trees had fallen over into the mud. He trudged through the muck towards the sound, but froze at the sight of a Kane-Ra. The mighty bull Rahi was crawling through the mud, heading towards Ta-Koro. And it was not alone. Sand Tarakava and Nui-Jaga followed behind it, trudging through the tread marks in the mud left by the Kane-Ra.

That was another reason why this island wasn’t a paradise; there were too many infected Rahi out to get the Matoran.

Agni spun around and started to run towards the village. He needed to warn them of the oncoming attack. But his feet sunk deep into the mud, and make loud slurping noises every time he took a step. Even with the roar of the storm, the noise was enough to get the Kane-Ra’s attention. It sighted the Matoran and changed direction.

At least the Rahi weren’t going to attack the village first, Agni thought. They would get him instead.

He tried to run faster, but the mud slowed him down, and the rain water clouded his vision. The Rahi were closing in behind them, but they were also slowed by the mud and the storm. Unfortunately, the Kane-Ra was able to power through it faster than the Ta-Matoran.

Agni cursed to himself as he pushed on. He was done for. He was a well trained guard, but the storm was hampering his abilities to run and fight. The Rahi would surely get him. And then, what would it all be for? To protect this island paradise? It wasn’t worth it.

Agni stumbled one last time, and fell mask first into the mud. He was barely able to pull himself out before the Kane-Ra caught up to him. The beast roared, and snapped its head forward, where it would break Agni’s body with its horns.

But something struck it mid-stride, and the beast drew back. A volley of bamboo discs flew threw the air with the raindrops, striking the Kane-Ra’s infected masks and knocking them off. With a final grunt, the now uninfected beast decided to retreat from the mud and seek shelter elsewhere. The Sand Tarakava and Nui-Jaga fled from the mighty bull, now that it was no longer their ally and leader.

The Rahi would be back, but not until after the storm had abated.

Agni pushed himself up, and although his vision was blurry, he could see the squad of Ta-Matoran walking towards him. Another of the guardsmen had sighted the Kane-Ra chasing him, and had gathered a resistance to fight the Rahi back. Had Agni not diverted the Rahi’s attention, they would’ve managed a successful sneak attack on the gates of Ta-Koro.

The other Guards helped Agni out of the mud and led him back to the warmth and shelter of the village. After all, Agni was their comrade and friend, and they had gone out of their way to help him. An Agni knew he would do the same for all of them.

No, this island wasn’t a paradise, Agni thought. It was full of dangers and discomfort. But he had good friends on this island, and they were worth fighting for. He could tough it out with them. And together, they could build their own paradise.

------------------------------------

Choice #4:

"Medicine Man"

“Fine — look — I’ll give you a roll from my dinner. I saved it.”Kenari’s lupine grin, visible as a gleam even in the darkness below the ship Rogue’s deck, was a clear rejection to the offer.The hunchbacked prisoner who had given the offer, a Toa whose face and body were covered in grime, tensed his shoulders in frustration and ground his teeth together. One twisted hand became a fist. A pause — “S’all I have to give,” he grunted, his fist uncurling but his fingers still tense.Kenari didn’t move from where he sat against the wall, not even as the ship shifted and water sloshed outside. “You’re in no position to bargain,” said the Toa of Lightning.The prisoner growled. “Karzahni’d have fun with you.”Kenari lifted his eyebrows, calling the prisoner’s bluff. “I’m sure he would.”Another growl; this time, however, a roll was pressed into Kenari’s hand. He held it to his face and sniffed. Satisfied it wasn’t old, he pocketed it and gestured for the Toa to sit beside him, then placed his hand on the back of the Toa’s neck and closed his eyes.“What do you want this time?”“An island.”“That’s awfully little for me to go on.”“Fine. Make it a small one — in the middle of the ocean — like, coconut trees or something. Gukkos. Daytime.”The prisoner’s brain, just like any other being’s brain, operated using electricity. Kenari took that electricity and rerouted the signals so they would return to the brain, then took control with his Great Mahiki. The combination was such that the prisoner, after entering a stupor, only twitched his eyelids and the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t even here, really, if you thought about it.Oh, the lengths people go to find a paradise...Though simple when outlined, the delicate maneuvers Kenari had to perform to maintain the hallucination were tiring. It was like a dance: a tweak here, a twist there, and match the Toa’s brain waves. That fellow prisoner could’ve just gone to sleep and hoped to dream, but he wanted a sure thing. That was how Kenari, otherwise an unassuming character, survived in the brig of the Rogue.If only someone could place him under...After the set time of seven minutes, Kenari released his concentration, gasping, and regained his composure before the prisoner fully awoke. The other Toa stood, gruff once more but faintly abashed, and strode back to his claustrophobic cot without saying anything to, or even looking at, Kenari.The Toa of Lightning remained where he sat before as if nothing had happened, smiling a bit as if enjoying a private joke. Illusions didn’t have to be mental.

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Choice #5:

"The Fall of Paradise"

"It will always be like this," I said. "Just the two of us together."

"Always!" she agreed.

She pointed suddenly off to the distance. When I turned, she pulled my Kanohi down over my eyes and ran off, laughing.

The first memory came back to me with a half-warm, half-cold jolt. What I experienced when I returned to Karda-Nui for the first time, I have never told anyone. The memories were too painful.

I had chased after her and caught her by the wrist, holding it tight.

"Always?"

Gavla straightened my Kanohi. "Always, Takua."

---

Those were the happiest days in my memory.

And what can I say about them now? It's strange, how good things are so difficult to tell of; yet things that are miserable are easy to describe, and take so much telling.

Those were the early days, when there was much work to do every day in constructing the universe; but Gavla and I would always find time together to walk through our gardens alone, in our private paradise. It was beautiful. And so was she.

I've inscribed countless words on the walls of history telling of terrible tragedies, but of the times of peace, what could I say? "They were happy . . . until, all too soon, they were not."

---

"What do you mean, we shouldn't let them put the Makuta in charge?"

"Exactly what I say!" she insisted. "We were here first! Toa should be masters and guardians over the universe, not these codeless shapeshifters."

"But why?"

"They have too much power. I don't trust them. If we became Toa--"

"Toa? Us?"

"Yes! If we became Toa, maybe--maybe--"

"Maybe what? Gavla, that's not our Duty. The Great Beings gave us our own purpose."

She scowled. "Forget it. I knew you wouldn't understand. Let's talk about something else."

I reached for her hand but she pulled away. Nevertheless, even in silence, we walked side by side through the gardens, and I couldn't help but cherish each moment.

---

As we became busier we saw less of each other. Still, when there were no other distractions, it was just her and me. And that was special to me.

I remember those days when we would walk, side by side; when we would talk, word by word; when we would laugh, smile by smile. And those days--oh, those wonderful days, oh so long ago, meant everything to me . . .

That's just it, isn't it? They meant everything to me, but they won't mean anything to you. Misery likes company. That can be shared. But it's hard to share bliss.

It's too bad that there aren't more words for joy, and fewer for sorrow.

---

"I have--unfortunate news--Takua, sir."

"Yes?" I turned to the messenger.

"She's--disappeared. And she's taken the Toa Stones."

Somewhere in my chest a spring tightened. "Who?"

---

The Toa Stones were recovered. But Gavla wasn't. Not really. She was never the same after that.

She was punished; she was forgiven; she came to be respected again. I tried more than once to make things right, but--how often the offended is the quickest to forgive, while the offender is pitiless!

---

"Gavla. We need to talk."

She ignored me.

"I'm leaving Karda-Nui."

"Good for you."

"Gavla, I'd like to say--"

"If you're expecting a tearful goodbye, save your breath."

"I won't see you again--for a long time. I'd like to think, before I go--"

"That was always the problem with you. Too much thinking! For once in your life Takua, don't look first, and don’t look back. Just leap."

---

Her words changed my life. I never forgot them.

Still, I can't help but wonder if I took the right leap. Destiny is whimsical. Would ours have been different, if instead of following orders I had followed her advice then and there, and took a different leap?

All these millennia--was that what she wanted?

---

For the first time since I had turned away from Karda-Nui, I was looking down on all I had once shared with Gavla. Things had changed--more than I ever could have imagined . . .

But had they--so much?

I was here to save the universe, but I was here for another reason . . .

---

"It will always be like this."

"Always. It's our Destiny, Takua."

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"As a writer you ask yourself to dream while awake." ~ Aimee Bender

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