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BZPRPG - Ta-Wahi


Nuju Metru

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IC:

"No ideal worth holding has ever been an easy one." The Ta-Matoran paused, studying Merror's face for a moment. Something familiar flickered behind his eyes, something he was growing familiar with himself. "And nothing worth doing is ever easy."

 

"Vakama set the bar high, whether he realized or not. He lead by example, and I must do the same. Doesn't matter how tired I get. I've got to set the bar."

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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  • 2 months later...

IC

"About this much."

 

She parsed out her and her colleague's payment in an ugly assortment of change, gratuitous gratuity rounded down to the nearest zero (0) and dumped unceremoniously into a dirty coffee cup.

 

IC:

 

"Then that handles it!" Saeva made sure her money was on the table and counted out correctly, then pocketed her (lighter) coin purse. It was a pretty good morning so far, odd looks from the staff included. Even if she felt like she'd eaten a bit much, it had been ages since she'd had so much fun. That didn't involve a fist fight.

 

The Ta-Toa slid out her chair and practically jumped to her feet, a grin spreading across her features.

 

"Good meeting you guys, then, but I guess we're gonna get going. Somewhere. Dunno where yet."

  • Upvote 2

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

IC: 

The local (actually foreign) simian's face quirked as the rattling of coins jogged his heightened senses, snapping him out of the three-year (actually three-minute) reprieve and rare bout of introspection he was locked in.

Also worth noting: Any progress he'd made in that time utterly vanished, and the gang was none the wiser for how close they had come to having a more measured, thoughtful kenjutsu fighter amongst their ranks, as opposed to the wide-eyed berserker of a verbal-teamkilling mongtard they had grown to know and love tolerate come to terms with.

"Uh." he studied the ceiling, as though needing to certify that they were indeed in the same homey Ta-Wahi pancake joint.

"Didn't we say something about... what was it, hot springs? I could use hot springs. I'm sore and have a crick in my neck from going midget-wrangling earlier."

Very pointedly, he looked at the slight pink form of the guardswoman who was formerly his opponent, as well as insensate, just like he was. The jab probably wouldn't even register, rendering it a singularly unnecessary gesture.

Much like the choice in finger he was fighting not to throw at Soter under the table, if only because Saeva had decided to be nice to her and he didn't need a concussion from Redhot's cinderblock-shaped elbows.

Ah, needless antagonism.

You could have prevented this.

 

Edited by Juice
  • Upvote 2

helo frens

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IC:

 

"Uh."

 

Redhot blinked.

 

"Shouldn't we wait a while before going into water? Isn't that a rule?"

 

He hadn't spent much time in Ga-Koro sober, so he really had no idea about water etiquette. Wasn't it supposed to give you stomachaches or something?

 

He loved Erzu, but give the guy a stomachache and he would be an even bigger pain...

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

"Sounds like the sort of shifty water'd do." The helpful remark ventured forth from a Toa with half closed eyes, probably in thought. Still they snapped open a moment later, flicking to the door as she looped her thumbs through her belt. "Yeah, there're springs around here. Dunno about urban legends, but we should be good by the time we get there."

"If Sparky can move."

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: qt π

 

"No promises."

 

She slid her chair back, slowly attempting to rise. Doing so made a fairly alarming number of her joints pop. She stretched her arms above and behind her head to get the last few out.

 

"Jeez, I feel like I've been sitting here for at least a year and a half."

 


- - - - - - - - - -

 

IC: Dessa

 

Life wasn't too bad.

If you like sitting around, with only the occasional passing traveler to chat with.

Such was life on the Old Fusa Path. There wasn't a lot to go on out between Ta-Koro and Ga-Koro - just endless grassy hills to the average person. To Dessa, it was opportunity. She'd laboured endlessly to forge the beginning of a meager life out here, and she was satisfied.

Just off the Path, where it branched off to Sky's Height's Way up into Ko-Wahi, sat a hovel. Built sturdily from stone, clay, and long grass, it stood prominently in an area devoid of anything but green grass and blue sky. It was a grey-brown monolith to dedication. It was Dessa's home.

 

The Vortixx in question was seated just in front of her home, in a small booth made from the ashy wood of the Charred Forest. A sign on the front offered a selection of goods for the passing traveler: Fusa jerky, assorted berries, bags and pouches woven from flax, straw hats, flasks of water made from leaves and clay.

 

Sales were few, but Dessa didn't mind. She was happy here as it was.
 


- - - - - - - - - -

 

IC: Roosevelt

 

Ta-Koro. A marvelous fortress, fit for a king. It was beautiful. Who wouldn't want to set foot here.

 

Emerging from the dank tunnels leading to Onu-Koro, into the fiery, ashen air of the village of fire was a man, a true warrior spirit, who knew where he was going.

 

And he was going to Ta-Koro.

 

And now he was here.

 

And now he didn't know where he was going anymore.

 

Hmm.

Perhaps he should just challenge some worthy foes to mortal combat?

 

Seemed like a good thing to do.

 

 

OOC: Dessa and Roosevelt open for interaction.

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  • 3 weeks later...

IC:

 

"No ideal worth holding has ever been an easy one." The Ta-Matoran paused, studying Merror's face for a moment. Something familiar flickered behind his eyes, something he was growing familiar with himself. "And nothing worth doing is ever easy."

 

"Vakama set the bar high, whether he realized or not. He lead by example, and I must do the same. Doesn't matter how tired I get. I've got to set the bar."

 

IC (Merror, Guard HQ)

 

"True," Merror replied. "Very true. Mata Nui is so much lesser for his loss — for the loss of all the Turaga. It's hard not to wonder how much better things might be if we still had their guidance."

 

Briefly, the memory of Ko-Wahi rose unbidden to his mind, and he looked away, distracted.

 

...linen robes in the wind...hand upon a staff... 

 

Then it was gone. The veteran Toa blinked a couple of times to clear his head, then met Jaller's gaze again.

 

"For what it's worth, I think he'd be very proud of you."

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IC:

 

-Ta-Wahi beach

 

A lone Ko-Toa stood huddled over the telescope in the ancient observatory. Rujak had no idea who'd built rhis observatory ontop of the cliff, but he'd spent his last three months here gazing up at the heavens. He liked to watch the Red Stars progress and record it in his journal. There were so many mysteries on this island, perhaps some of them could be solved by gazing at the stars.

 

Once Ko-Koro had fallen Rujak had wandered the Ko-Wahi wilderness before finally Coming here. He'd brought with him ancient texts he'd copied over into his journals, texts he'd located within Nuju's tower. Rujak had become so isolated he wasn't even sure if Nuju still lived, but he knew Ko-Koro was still under the control of evil. Rujak slung his pack over his shoulder feeling it fall against his shield before he turned and left the stone observatory. He made his way down the stone steps and onto the sandy shore of Ta-Wahi. Ga-Koro lay behind him while Ta-Koro was ahead. He began to stride forward until he suddenly came to a stop, noticing a Matoran from his home village of Ko-Koro sitting alone in the sand. The Matoran gazed at Rujak and then Rujak noticed anger flare in the villagers blue eyes.

 

"What answers are you going to find in the stars Toa? You should be fighting! It's your duty to save Ko-Koro from the forces of evil!"

 

Rujak wanted to say something but no words came. Instead he continued to walk forward deciding not to look at the Matoran. "Coward! You're a coward!" He shouted as Rujak left him behind. Maybe he wasn't wrong, but what was one Toa of ice going to do against all of the scum that had taken Rujak's home? Many had tried an failed. No, Rujak had important work, someone had to watch the stars, someone had to keep the records going.

Edited by Flex Lord Splash
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IC:

"I suppose it's only been an hour or two."


IC:

 

"I'd like to think so. But, he isn't here."

"And unfortunately," The Akiri gestured briefly in the direction of the door, frown deepening a little. "Things just keep getting more complicated. People keep on changing. Keep an eye on Dorian, if you would. You and Agni both. I'm not so worried about what he'll do, I'm more worried what he'll get himself into. As much as I hate to admit it, keeping that prick alive is in all of our best interests."

 

"We need all the decent people we have left."

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: qt π

 

"No promises."

 

She slid her chair back, slowly attempting to rise. Doing so made a fairly alarming number of her joints pop. She stretched her arms above and behind her head to get the last few out.

 

"Jeez, I feel like I've been sitting here for at least a year and a half."

 

- - - - - - - - - -

 

IC: Dessa

 

Life wasn't too bad.

 

If you like sitting around, with only the occasional passing traveler to chat with.

 

Such was life on the Old Fusa Path. There wasn't a lot to go on out between Ta-Koro and Ga-Koro - just endless grassy hills to the average person. To Dessa, it was opportunity. She'd laboured endlessly to forge the beginning of a meager life out here, and she was satisfied.

 

Just off the Path, where it branched off to Sky's Height's Way up into Ko-Wahi, sat a hovel. Built sturdily from stone, clay, and long grass, it stood prominently in an area devoid of anything but green grass and blue sky. It was a grey-brown monolith to dedication. It was Dessa's home.

 

The Vortixx in question was seated just in front of her home, in a small booth made from the ashy wood of the Charred Forest. A sign on the front offered a selection of goods for the passing traveler: Fusa jerky, assorted berries, bags and pouches woven from flax, straw hats, flasks of water made from leaves and clay.

 

Sales were few, but Dessa didn't mind. She was happy here as it was.

 

- - - - - - - - - -

 

IC: Roosevelt

 

Ta-Koro. A marvelous fortress, fit for a king. It was beautiful. Who wouldn't want to set foot here.

 

Emerging from the dank tunnels leading to Onu-Koro, into the fiery, ashen air of the village of fire was a man, a true warrior spirit, who knew where he was going.

 

And he was going to Ta-Koro.

 

And now he was here.

 

And now he didn't know where he was going anymore.

 

Hmm.

 

Perhaps he should just challenge some worthy foes to mortal combat?

 

Seemed like a good thing to do.

 

 

OOC: Dessa and Roosevelt open for interaction.

 

IC:

 

Rujak had made his way from the beach, to the charred forest, heading towards Ta-Koro when a certain small home that also appeared to sell wares caught his scope. The sight of it reminded him of the merchants he used to see in Ko-Koro square. Rujak approached the dwelling onto to find a Vortixx sitting within.

 

"Hello," Rujak said carefully. This may have been the first time he recalled speaking with a Vortixx, they weren't common, at least to Rujak.

 

"What exactly do you sell here?" he asked, trying not to stare too much.

 

IC:

 

Kaeren had spent his last six months inside one of the various pubs that existed within Ta-Koro's walls. Some said the Ta-Toa had become depressed as of late. He spent most of his nights inside the Lavapool Inn drinking silently to himself. He had once been a member of the Ta-Koro guard before he'd been asked to kindly step down due to his frequent intoxication.

 

Kaeren stared down at the mug in his hand and at the contents of the brew within. He hadn't even taken a drink yet, this was to be his first of the day.

 

"Not today," Kaeren shook his head. He was done drinking, he was done letting it sway his left. He activated his powers of flame and watched as the glass literally melted to slag in his hand from the heat.

 

"Sorry about that," Kaeren said as he tossed an extra few widgets on the bar. "For the glass and the mess." he said before he pushed up with a glint to his eyes. He then swept from the pub and did not look back.

 

As he walked through Ta-Koro, lost in his thoughts of what he was going to do with his future... he bumped into someone... a Le-Toa wearing a Huna.

 

"Ah my apologies friend, wasn't looking where I was going." he said.

 

OOC: that's for Roosevelt

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  • 2 months later...

IC (Merror)

 

"I will," said Merror. "You have my word."

 

He owed Jaller (and Dorian, for that matter) that much, not to mention that the boy was clearly connected to this gathering storm.

 

As was Echelon.

 

He felt his jaw tighten at the thought of his old foe. Dorian had said Echelon was going to open the Vault, which meant that was probably his next destination: the depths of Mangaia, to confront the Dark Toa and put a stop to his plans. He would need all the help he could get. And so the veteran Toa's path would once more cross Echelon's.

 

Something told Merror that the stakes had never been higher. That the fate of Mata Nui was now hanging in the balance. And that this, if the threads of Destiny were converging as he sensed, would be a final confrontation with the Necromancer whose malevolence had haunted him all those long years. For good or ill, it would be an ending.

 

He hoped Dorian was ready.

 

Speaking of whom...

 

"Shall we go and see how the interrogations are going?" he asked Jaller. "I think we've been talking long enough."

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IC:

"Yes," The Akiri concluded, shaking off the lingering reverie and beginning to step towards the door. "We should. I can handle... Matters with Drigton. Anything that might turn up will be helpful, but Tuara is on my conscience. I'll do my best to sort this mess out. Angel will be important for that, but the three of you should get going."

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

IC:

 

I was just about out of the room when Tuara called out one final, worthless plea. It was long past the point where it would do either of us any good, but I stopped regardless, one hand resting on the frame of the door and posture stiff, locked tight in mid-step by her well-wishes.

 

"One day, Dor...Just...don't do anything stupid. I know how that sounds, but, you're important. Not just to me."

 

It wasn't like I'd never lied to the people I loved. But the fact that all the people who said they loved me and had given me ###### for it over the years now seemed to have slipped right into moral (or existential) quagmires of their own...

 

It was just so ###### rich; I had to grin a little, biting down on my lip to prevent myself from laughing harshly. I didn't turn to face Tuara.

 

"We should've stayed in that supply room," I told her softly. "In the hospital. We should've stayed at that temple in Po-Wahi. We could even have just stayed at home. I would have quit and settled down anywhere you told me to. But I'm beyond quitting now. Not while that evil goon is still alive and carrying Joske's tools."

 

I tilted my head over my shoulder to face her and winked.

 

"You earned a long, happy life, Tuara Drigton. Live it right, every single day that you can. Cause you really blow at trying to live mine."

 

I blew the Ta-Toa one final, doomed smooch before walking through the door and slamming it between us. The Captain of the Guard was propped against the wall, posture slightly slouched, watching me absently.

 

IC: Tuara Drigton - Ta-Koro Guard HQ

 

Tuara waited for Dorian to step outside before slinking back into her chair.

 

She waited. Thinking. She had been willing to break Kitea's arm in a bid to escape as if he was a hostage. Had it not been for the man who just wished him a prosperous life, she might have escaped. Here she was instead. There was no way the two of them would be in the same room until the Guard could extract exactly what had gone on. She would fall for a murder, and Kitea would be detained until his own trail to see if he was complicit - if he didn't admit to his affiliations.

 

She looked up at the Guardsman standing watch, who she recognized from her own time as Captain. There would be at least two more outside - three if Jaller was really concerned. No telling where Merror, Agni, or the others would be in the HQ. Same issue with her weapons and mask. Even if she could fight her way out now, Tuara wouldn't escape. This was her conclusion.

 

"Yama." Tuara said, the Guard giving a brief look of surprise - probably because she knew his name. "Can I speak with Jaller?"

 

IC [Agni - Ta-Koro Guard HQ - Interrogation room]:

 

What Kitea said didn't sit well with me. It was all just too darn vague in relation to how Tuara had acted. I felt my temper flare up at his words, but forced the emotion down immediately.

 

"So...you had nothing to do with this mad escape?" I asked, obviously not buying it. "Alright then..."

 

"And I suppose your appearance here in Ta-Koro was just a friendly visit from the long-lost brother?"

IC: Kitea Drigton - Ta-Koro Guard HQ

 

Kitea scoffed at this. "You think I was involved?" However, despite this response, he remained leaned over the metal table. "I haven't seen my sister in hundreds of years. I come home and she snaps!" He pointed a finger at the wall as if pointing at her - though wholly unsure of where his sister was.

 

He half laughed in his words. "Look, I have absolutely no ###### clue what is going on. What made her snap on me, why she was trying to leave the city, or where she was planning on going. You know a lot more about all this than I do, clearly!" He looked at the guard behind Agni, "Can anybody explain anything to me?"

Edited by Palm

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IC:

 

It seemed to Angel that the entire world had been undergoing a very long, very agonizing carriage crash, with new complications and fatalities by the day. The casualty figures kept snowballing, rolling up more and more of Angel's world and the pillars that supported it into a carefully packed, dense sphere of loss. One of the last, and possibly the shakiest, of those pillars was now sprawled out on the couch of the Captain of the Guard's office, spinning the square glass decanter in a circle on the coffee table that divided them. The Toa of Iron, ever the social vampire, had at last revealed his true self without a room of acquaintances for his petty mischief to feed from. On the outside he looked as good as he ever had, except for his eyes - blue hollows that had become deadened by the weight of death - eyes that seemed to welcome the chance to court his own. It was hard for Angel to think of someone who had become so unimaginably wizened and hollow on the inside while retaining such a surreal state of beauty on the outside.

 

Actually, no it's not. We just arrested her.

 

And now Dorian Shaddix, Mark Bearer of Rage, lieutenant of Bad Company, Ta-Koro Guardsman, ladykiller-at-large, heartsick polyanna, by turns a friendly enemy and an unreliable friend...was here before him, recounting the events of his trip to Ko-Koro in a dead monotone, the weight of millennia of life experiences, atrocities, and unsung good deeds having crushed him at the premature age of...

 

Of...of...

 

Too young.

 

They were all so young.

 

Joske...

 

"Did you bury him?" Angel asked. His voice sounded far away and crystalline, both adjectives that could also describe the decanter that Dor was hogging. The news of Joske Nimil's death required more than one gulp of whiskey - and a toast. Joske's life deserved a toast. He went to the grave a hero; it was easy to see how an ending like that could tantalize someone like Dorian, who had spent so long chasing the basic needs like gratitude and concern that he'd once surrendered his rights to.

 

"Of course I buried him," Dor sulked. "He's at the Temple of Peace. The rock closest to Ta-Koro. I thought he might'a liked to--"

 

He broke off.

 

"--Echelon has his mask. Otherwise I would have brought it to hang in one of the halls here. Or given it to Cael. Sorry."

 

...

 

"I can't believe that thinking of doing a good deed is what you're going to start apologizing for."

 

"Hey, ###### you right back, boss. You know, you owe me a lot, you little savage twink. You would still be spear-fishing on the edges of the jungle if it weren't for me, remember? I made your career, your friendships, Karz, chasing me even got you a girlfriend. Did I ever get a thank you?"

 

He probably wasn't being serious, but Angel was still in the early stages of mourning - or, maybe he wasn't. All he knew was that he was stuck hard on anger. 

 

"You were too busy killing, robbing, and crossing lines in the sand for me to thank you for the hookup. Do you want me to start a couple lineups, Dorian? All the people who have ever earned something believing in you versus all the people who were better off not giving you a chance? We might have time to get through one, but by the time we're done with the other, Echelon could open the Vault a hundred times over."

 

Dorian looked like he'd been shot in the gut. It was the betrayed look of someone who had skated through hard conversations for years off the back of his bantering ability, a true creature of habit being spurned, a puppy robbed of a toy to chew. He had the same look whenever something really pierced his armor. It had probably been the last look Joske Nimil had ever seen in his life.

 

But at least he'd been there.

 

"...I didn't mean tha--"

 

"You really did."

 

Dorian slumped back on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling listlessly. Angel felt guilt gnawing at his stomach, even though he knew he had nothing to be ashamed of. Dorian always responded well to reality checks eventually - usually. A grieving Dor was capable of anything, for good or ill. It would probably mean a lot of pouts, sulks, and self-pitying...but it was also a source of hope. Dorian Shaddix had always been enraged that no one really believed in him. It was a fair complaint. Some of the things that people like Angel had said to him over the years, even when he was at his most helpful, had been earned. You didn't commit the crimes the Toa of Iron committed without earning yourself a lifetime of doubt and suspicion. 

 

But a lot of it wasn't earned.. Especially right now.

 

"Dorian..."

 

"Did he tell you? What's in the Vault?" The hurt was still in his voice, but again, he had deflected the topic of conversation. "He didn't trust me with it. But I know he had to have talked to you before he left."

 

"We talked," Angel answered truthfully.

 

"Did he tell you what's in the Vault?"

 

"No," Angel answered, half-lying.

 

The truth is, Joske had to have known, but Angel didn't ask; he'd assumed the information had been compartmentalized, with Joske telling his various friends various parts. Talks with Agni and Merror had made him realize he was wrong. If anything, Angel had found himself outclassing both elder Toa when it came to the big picture. If he'd known all that Joske was hiding, he may have asked for more, just in case. But who would have ever assumed Joske would just...die?

 

"Figures," Dor sighed. "Well, it's Echelon's, until someone goes down there and stops him."

 

"Someone."

 

"Yeah. It's gonna have to be someone really sexy, someone with the charisma to stand as a monument for all the generations to come, someone with no fear, someone who's fought off the temptations of evil time and again over the years, someone who needs a good excuse to finally put all his chips on the table..."

 

"Someone," Angel repeated, his heart sinking into his stomach at the turn this conversation was taking. He can't be serious. He's a Toa of Iron. He's tried before. He'll be torn apart. No. No. No.

 

"Yeah. He'll probably have to be hung like a Kikanalo too. Just to be safe."

 

"I'm not going to approve someone going down there by himself into Karzahni."

 

"You probably didn't approve when I slept with the girl you love, either, but you were too cucked to stop me then. I made up my mind days ago. I'm just not going to make Joske's mistake and not tell anybody." Dor tilted his head towards the desk, but his eyes looked far past Angel, scanning the Ta-Koro skyline wistfully. "I always hated this town."

 

"I know. The heat...it's not even heat. It does nothing but suffocate you."

 

"Should rename it Utu-Koro."

 

"What?"

 

"Nothing."

 

Silence fell over the Captain's office.

 

"You know you'll die."

 

"Ye-aaaaaaah, I'd say I've kept everyone waiting long enough. It's okay. It's not everyone who gets to call their last shot."

 

Again, silence fell over the Captain's office. Unbidden, Angel's eyes started to water. He had never really appreciated how much he hated Dorian Shaddix before. He had always seemed like he'd be there to hate forever.

 

Dor, for once, turned his head and said nothing.

 

"Who would've ever thought it'd be you making the eleventh hour play?" Angel asked rhetorically into his hands, trying to dry the tears in his eyes. The momentary sting would be worth avoiding having to show Dor that people cared. It would be easier for them both if he could pretend they didn't. "I remember when you left early with Heuani instead of trading in your Mark. I remember watching you walk away from the Temple while Utu screamed at you."

 

"I do, too. Both times."

 

Both times?

 

"I remember how scared you were of dying."

 

"Yeah, me too."

 

"Are you still?"

 

"Nah, man. It's all one big void as far as I'm concerned. Wherever they throw me, I'll make my own fun there." Dorian sat up at last and grabbed the decanter by the neck, taking a long drink of whiskey with a sigh. He looked into the bottle longingly, as though he could spend the rest of his life with only it for company. The bourbon was the vice that most people had thought would always do him in. It would certainly have been an odd time for him to start cutting back now. "It's everyone else dying that scares me now."

 

...

 

"What?"

 

"Nothing. That's just..."

 

...

 

"That's a really good answer."

 

"I'm a poet and everyone knows it. I should probably roll out. Every second we sit here and ###### in Boyfriends Anonymous is another second Echelon has to open the Vault. I've had the time of my life, Angel Foodcakes. Hey, some parting advice: take it from an old hand like me. The inside of the closet may be kind of comfy, but once you're outside it, you'd be amazed all the types of wood it's made from."

 

Angel, the tears still in his eyes, was silent a second before he began to chuckle into his hands.

 

"I hate you so much."

 

"Everybody does. You don't get to be special."

 

"Shaddix."

 

"Foodcakes?"

 

Angel stood up and moved to the wall behind his desk, looking at the ornament that hung down there before he lowered it with a kind of reverence and twirled it in its hands. The sword had never been used before; it was a weapon forged from wishes, the kind of weapon that belonged in the myths that, Spirit willing, would be told about them all long after they were dead. He had practiced with it daily, sometimes for hours at a time, but the great foe he had dreamed of fighting with it had never met him face to face. Their foes now were dark and kept to the shadows, biding their time until the forces they commanded couldn't be stopped by any weapon - even a sword from a fairy tale. He had taken it promising to be proactive in meeting all threats, forevermore. He had failed. 

 

Joske was dead. Dorian was going to die.

 

The Captain held out the sword to Dorian, hilt first. 

 

"A friend gave me this, the night before Makuta fell," he explained. "A companion. Someone who saw me as an equal. We were from two different ends of the world, and we had lived through too much to agree on a lot of things. But he was my friend. When I asked for a shield, this is what I got."

 

"A sword. Ask for a shield, get yourself a sword." A soft, bitter laugh. "Joske really was an idiot. I think he had left and right written on his boots too."

 

"No. He knew what he was doing. I do, too." Angel pushed the hilt into Dor's hand when the Toa of Iron wouldn't reach for it. "This may help you against Echelon. If he tries his usual tricks on you, block with the sword. It may be your best chance...it may be our best chance."

 

Dorian's fingers slowly wrapped around the sword, taking it in his hand. He spun on his heel slowly, assuming a ready stance against an invisible opponent - one with a flamberge the likes of which had never been seen on Mata Nui. One wielded by two of Makuta's fiercest Dark Toa. Only Dorian had survived duels with both.

 

"You're just...giving it to me?"

 

"I'm lending it," Angel corrected. "Don't die in that Vault, Shaddix. Bring that sword back to me with Echelon's blood and Echelon's head...and I'll call you hero from now until the suns go out over Mata Nui. Just don't die in that Vault."

 

Dorian's mouth was curled up at the edges in a faint, amused little smile, but he sheathed the sword behind his back anyway. It joined his spear and his Vortixx sniper rifle there, a trinity of fearsome weapons that would have made anyone but Echelon fear to stand against him. The revolver at his hip was the same story; by now, in fact, that weapon was so synonymous with Dor that Angel might have even preferred that the assassin choose the sword if it ever came to blows with them again.

 

"So that's my debrief, then..." Dor trailed off, a little hesitant to walk out. He was absorbing every detail in the room with his eyes, trying to commit it all to memory for the last time. "Any other helpful tips?"

 

"No."

 

Dorian started to trail out of the room reluctantly at that, taking it as a dismissal.

 

"Hey."

 

Shaddix stopped at the door frame, gripping it with both hands like a little kid and standing in the archway.

 

"Good luck, Toa Dorian." Angel hardly got the title out without choking up.

 

For his part, the Toa of Iron just grinned and arched his back, pushing his core and the center of his body into the frame seductively.

 

"Goodbye, Cap," he said softly, before slapping the wood he was gripping twice and rounding the corner forever.

 

OOC: Dorian out of Ta-Wahi.

 

-Tyler

Edited by Sauce
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SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

"Yes," Jaller's voice rang out solemnly through the opening door. "You may. Give us the room, please, Guardsman."


"Sir-"

 

"I know, a Guard must remain in the room. That's why I'm here. It's alright. Get some coffee, Yama. It's going to be a long night for everyone."

 

The Guard nodded after a moment, murmuring his assent before exiting through the same door. Silence reigned save for the soft thud of the door being locked behind him, a pervasive absence that continued for what seemed like an eternity. He didn't speak, he barely even moved save to reach the other side of the table opposite his former right hand. At that moment it was clear she was facing the Captain of the Guard, not the Akiri that he had become. His face was a mask, his eyes windows into an inscrutable mind.

 

"When I said that pessimism didn't suit you, this isn't quite what I meant." The Ta-Matoran said, a little too softly for his expression. He crossed his arms, gaze never leaving the taller Toa's face. "I found that recruit you mentioned. Behind the smithy. A cynic might say you were trying to get access to our resources again so you could make sure we didn't find him, but you told me where to go."

"So what is it you want to talk about, Drigton?"

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Tuara Drigton - Ta-Koro Guard HQ

 

'A cynic might say you were trying to get access to our resources again so you could make sure we didn't find him, but you told me where to go.'

 

Tuara was quiet. That was why she was there. Until she slipped out what to look for. She let her teeth stop their grinding, before she took full control of herself again.

 

There was no getting Kitea out now. Not with her by his side, anyways.

 

'You earned a long, happy life, Tuara Drigton. Live it right, every single day that you can. Cause you really blow at trying to live mine.'

 

Dorian was right. But at this stage, it didn't matter. "I've always gone back on my decisions, haven't I?" She looked away. "I've walked away from just about everything since you made me Deputy." She turned and looked back at Jaller, her old boss - friend even - and said with a resigned voice. "I thought I was ready to turn myself in when I told you to go look."

 

She lifted her cuffed hands up to her stone mask, and buried her face in her palms. "Guess I didn't have to guts to face the music."

Edited by Palm

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IC:

"There's a lot I could say about you, Drigton, but I couldn't call you a coward."

 

The Akiri was quiet for a few moments, then slowly pulled out the metal chair opposite his former deputy and sank into it. The mask dropped just a little, and whether Tuara saw it or not, the Ta-Matoran looked pained. He rested both arms on the table and drummed his fingers softly, studying the dully reflective surface of the metal between them. Proceeding now was very different than what he'd had to do before. Dozens of criminal interrogations, if not more, and this was the one that would stick with him.

 

"You know, when you boil it down, most of this is my fault. I sent you after the Mark Bearers. You were never really the same. There was no one else I could trust with it, and I'd do it again. Best call I could have made, but it cost me my right hand. And my friend. I hate choices like that. I've wondered a lot over the past couple years if Vakama ever struggled like that, wrestled with the consequences of his decisions. Wondered how to help people he cared about but just not knowing how." The Matoran leaned back, clasping both hands on the table. "I've wanted to help you. I want to help you. But right now, Drigton, you've got my hands tied."

 

"I'm not stupid." His voice hardened a little, eyes narrowing. "I know that's exactly why you came to see me. But if you wanted to turn yourself in, you could have. If you really thought you needed to face justice for your crimes, it wouldn't have been a hint. You would have gotten yourself arrested on the spot. You're guilty. You wouldn't have left so fast, you wouldn't have told me, if it wasn't eating at you. But hinting at your own crime? Stopping to find someone else before leaving the Koro? Someone who happens to look very much like you? That puts a different spin on it. You'd do a lot to protect someone you cared about. Even if it ate away at you, you would do what you could to protect them."

 

Jaller stood and walked around the table, resting a hand lightly on the Toa's shoulders. Far from protocol, given how much potential for violence it granted a prisoner. Especially when the one putting himself within reach is the Akiri. But these were far from ordinary circumstances. In a way it was less an interrogation than... An intervention. A chance to try and reach an old friend before she was lost forever. Before his hand was forced, and he couldn't do anything to help. When he spoke again, his voice was much softer. Not authoritative, but concerned.

 

"Tuara." He squeezed her shoulder lightly. "Please let me help you. Please let me make up for failing you before. You're taking the blame, but it doesn't add up. My gut says you didn't do it. But I can't help if you don't let me. I need the truth. If I can be merciful with Shaddix, I can be merciful with anyone. No harm will come to you, or your... Companion."

 

His voice got a little softer.

"If push came to shove, I would trust you with my life. Even now. I'm asking you to trust me. Please."

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Tuara Drigton - Ta-Koro Guard HQ

 

Tuara gave pause at the change of tone. This was a voice that was rarely heard by anyone other than Jaller's close friends. It was one even she had heard so rarely. There was so much she wanted to say. To thank him for his friendship and trust. For his guidance and goodwill. That he was wrong about blaming himself.

 

But there was only one way to save Kitea now.

 

"I did it, Jaller."

 

Tuara croaked.

"The details are... fuzzy... because..." She turned her head to the side. "I-" she was choking up, "I was drunk." Tuara shuddered a bit as she began to cry. She lifted her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose, as if it would conceal the tears: Real tears. There was a great pain inside her - an intense shame. Tuara didn't kill the Guard, but she was an addict. Tuara couldn't go a day without drinking anymore, and her constant downward spirals resulted in rock-bottoms which would give way to deeper and deeper rock-bottoms. She was hardly living. Admitting this - even in a half-lie - was easy. "I remember seeing Angel in his office after." She shook her head, and tried to swallow the lump in her throat to no avail. "I told him my brother Kitea came home, alive, but I- I couldn't tell him about the Guard."

"That's why I went to get him. I didn't want to leave him so soon."

She turned in her seat so she could face Jaller. "He has no idea what I did." Tuara pleaded. "I know you can't let me go, but Kitea has nothing to do with this." She paused, looking straight into Jaller's eyes. "I can't lose him again."

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IC:

"You will." Jaller removed his hand from his shoulder, the two words coming out rough and quiet. He slipped both thumbs through his belt and studied the floor. "If you're in here, it'll be like he never came home at all. If he walks out that door you won't see him. What good does that do anyone? He's missing for years, and the second he's back you've turned to crime? It doesn't seem off to you that you're covering for him the moment he's back? Does that sound like something a big brother should be doing? Like he has your best interests at heart?"

 

The Ta-Matoran's voice ascended with every word, in volume and intensity. The last sentence slipped out rough and harsh, with all the heat of his element behind it. He crossed the room in a few steps, facing the wall silently. A single deep breath flowed in and out, followed by another. His head hung low, the intensity leaving his stance as quickly as it had come. When he straightened up and turned around his face was distant, every word calm and controlled. A small notepad came from his belt and with it a pen.

 

"Very well, Tuara Drigton." A quick note on the pad, her name. "You have confessed to one count of manslaughter, and one count obstruction of justice. For the moment you and your companion are formally under arrest, until the circumstances can be properly determined. If you want to expedite the process I require your complete cooperation."

 

The Akiri fixed a steady, unyielding gaze on his old friend. Even for a will as ironclad as his, hiding the flicker of pain was impossible.

"When did the event occur? By what means was the victim killed? When did you hide the body? When did your brother return home, was it before or after your crime?"

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Tuara Drigton - Ta-Koro Guard HQ

 

"Two days ago." Tuara started, wiping away years with her index finger. "I don't remember, but I'm sure the bartender could tell you when I was there. Dusk." She took a long tired breath. "I remember leaving, but I don't remember anything else, until I was in the alley." She paused, "With the knife in my hands and his body on the ground." She looked up at Jaller, writing. Tuara caught something in his eyes. She couldn't tell if it was disappointment or pain. But it wasn't anger. She'd seen anger from him before. This was something new. Tuara suddenly felt very aware of what she was doing by being here, and what it was doing to Jaller. Her "murder" was going to shake up a lot of things at the Guard, she knew, but already Tuara could tell it was affecting Jaller. She looked away, pushing this feeling down as deep as it would go. "I came back with some bags, and cleaned up. Kitea was home the next morning." Tuara, was now all business. "I went out again. Noon. I drank four bourbons and three whiskeys before I left. The bartender could tell you what else I had after that."

 

Tuara began picking at one of her thumbs, a bit meekly. "You can ask Angel when I got to his office. He'll remember our talk better than I will."

 

"I went home before dark. And you saw me the next morning."

Edited by Palm

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IC: Kitea Drigton - Ta-Koro Guard HQ

 

Kitea scoffed at this. "You think I was involved?" However, despite this response, he remained leaned over the metal table. "I haven't seen my sister in hundreds of years. I come home and she snaps!" He pointed a finger at the wall as if pointing at her - though wholly unsure of where his sister was.

 

He half laughed in his words. "Look, I have absolutely no ###### clue what is going on. What made her snap on me, why she was trying to leave the city, or where she was planning on going. You know a lot more about all this than I do, clearly!" He looked at the guard behind Agni, "Can anybody explain anything to me?"

 

 

IC [Agni - Ta-Koro Guard HQ, Interrogation Room]:

 

"You're saying you're not involved? She took you hostage when it became clear you two were getting outnumbered and boxed in. A desperate act. Certainly not part of the plan. Which to me looks like you were tagging along with her up until that point. Maybe because you haven't seen her in so long, like you suggest. Maybe to look after her in her state. Maybe because you do know something about what's going on and were willingly going along with it. Or it's something else."

 

"But what that might be, I don't know. Because I only just got back from Ko-Wahi. I knew Tuara had her own personal demons that she was struggling with, but when I last saw her she was a ranking officer in the guard. Now she's cuffed in an interrogation room. I want to fill in the blanks. You're one of them."

 

"So let's take it from the top, friend: Where were you before you came here? What made you come back to see Tuara? What happened while you were together? Walk me through it, right up until you were stopped at the gate."

 

 

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IC:

"I'll ask him." The Akiri responded softly, pocketing his notepad again. Monotone, every syllable controlled. He walked to the door and knocked on it briefly, resolutely refusing to look in Tuara's direction. The Guard outside would open it in a moment, and he could proceed from there. "I'll make sure some water is brought for you, Ms. Drigton. If you... Recall anything about what happened, Guardsman Yama will know where to find me."

 

The Ta-Matoran stepped out of the room as soon as the door opened, and after a few muffled words, Yama stepped back in.

 

Jaller took a deep breath as soon as he was in the hall, as if to keep himself from deflating. It didn't matter what he felt, he had to maintain his composure in public. News of Tuara's actions would shake the Guard already. Lots of officers had trained with her as a shining example, and it would not go over well. He had to show them resolve, not weakness. It was his duty to set an example even when others faltered. So he took another breath, and he steeled himself. He wrapped his knuckles on the next interrogation room's door, signaling Agni to come out when he could. The Toa was a veteran, he would understand without any further explanation.

 

But he had a few minutes. Time to break things down himself. 

 

His gut said she didn't do it. Everything just didn't seem to fit right. Kitea had been missing for a long time. It was a subject he never broached much with her, not when she had been his deputy, but it had come up before. His return would be enough for her not to be thinking right. Especially with her little hostage situation at the gates, and her desperation to get him released. The disparity just didn't square right. But she wasn't going to help him. He'd... He'd tried. Nothing would sway her. She tied his hand behind his back right there. He wasn't done. If he could make Kitea talk, or the coroner found something that didn't fit her story... It could be done. Maybe she really did do it, he had to admit to himself. It was possible. Letting his emotion cloud the issue didn't help her.

 

But either way, nothing less than Tuara Drigton's soul was at stake. One way or the other, he would help. It might be his last chance to. Even if she hated him for it.

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Kitea - Ta-Koro Guard

 

Kitea let out a frustrated sigh, placing his face into his hands. "I've been avoiding Ta-Koro." He paused. "I didn't want to upset Tuara when I was finally able to return, and the longer I took the worse it got." Kitea put his cuffed hands onto the table again. "I built up the courage to... reveal myself. I came into town two days ago, and have been staying with her. She spent her time drinking."

 

"I guess she never adjusted well after our parents died, did she." Kitea's tone was hardly questioning. He paused for a moment, then continued after a short breath. "This morning she said she had some business to attend to, then came back in a big huff. I thought she was drunk, but she seemed sober when she started dragging me across town."

He looked up. "You know the rest."

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IC [Agni - Guard HQ, Interrogation Room]:

 

His account of events ended and we were left with silence hanging in the air between us like a closed door, with no idea what would be on the other side of it. I sat back, arms folded, my index finger tapping away quietly at my upper arm as i studied him, head slightly cocked to the left. I held his gaze as if to look past his eyes and into his mind. What was on the other side of that door? The truth, perhaps. Except I still couldn't reconcile the Tuara Drigton I had known with the suspect one sitting in the other room. My gut told me she was covering something - or someone. Like a homicidal brother perhaps. But if what he said held up in the end...I hated the place that train of thought led to. The truth? Fat chance. It was rarely that easy. One tends to forget that before you get to the bottom, there's a slimy layer of filth covering it and digging in will inevitably muddy the waters.

 

What actually came from the other side of the door was a sudden knock. The actual door this time, not the metaphorical one my brooding mind had conjured up. But who knew, depending on who knocked they might turn out to be one and the same after all. I leaned forward in my chair, looked at Kitea intently once more - then I tapped the table between us twice, got up and stepped outside.

 

Jaller was waiting for me in the corridor. I shut the door behind me again before speaking.

 

"How is she?"

 

 

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IC:

 

Rujak had made his way from the beach, to the charred forest, heading towards Ta-Koro when a certain small home that also appeared to sell wares caught his scope. The sight of it reminded him of the merchants he used to see in Ko-Koro square. Rujak approached the dwelling onto to find a Vortixx sitting within.

 

"Hello," Rujak said carefully. This may have been the first time he recalled speaking with a Vortixx, they weren't common, at least to Rujak.

 

"What exactly do you sell here?" he asked, trying not to stare too much.

 

IC:

 

Kaeren had spent his last six months inside one of the various pubs that existed within Ta-Koro's walls. Some said the Ta-Toa had become depressed as of late. He spent most of his nights inside the Lavapool Inn drinking silently to himself. He had once been a member of the Ta-Koro guard before he'd been asked to kindly step down due to his frequent intoxication.

 

Kaeren stared down at the mug in his hand and at the contents of the brew within. He hadn't even taken a drink yet, this was to be his first of the day.

 

"Not today," Kaeren shook his head. He was done drinking, he was done letting it sway his left. He activated his powers of flame and watched as the glass literally melted to slag in his hand from the heat.

 

"Sorry about that," Kaeren said as he tossed an extra few widgets on the bar. "For the glass and the mess." he said before he pushed up with a glint to his eyes. He then swept from the pub and did not look back.

 

As he walked through Ta-Koro, lost in his thoughts of what he was going to do with his future... he bumped into someone... a Le-Toa wearing a Huna.

 

"Ah my apologies friend, wasn't looking where I was going." he said.

 

OOC: that's for Roosevelt

 

 

IC: Tor, the bore

 

"Well... what's keeping us? We should get going, right?"

 

 

 

- - - - - - - - - -

 

 

IC: Dessa

 

"Oh, trinkets, odds and ends, that sort of thing. Mostly goods I've made myself."

 

She motioned to her spread, "Take a look."

 

 

 

- - - - - - - - - -

 

IC: Roose Baby

 

The Le-Toa flailed around a bit after being bumped into. He frantically looked around at his body, examining every limb.

 

"...Have I gone invisible again?"

 

 

- - - - - - - - - -

 

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

IC:

"Unwell." The Akiri said the word slowly and carefully, maintaining the utmost control over his tone. Too controlling, if anything. He paused long enough to take another breath, to try and distance himself a little further from the issue. It wasn't easy. "Tuara insists that she killed the guard. That she told me where to find him out of remorse, and took Kitea hostage out of desperation when we found her. Her story is that she was drunk, and doesn't remember the circumstances of his murder. So she covered it up, and tried to take Kitea with her when she fled. He doesn't know anything."

A beat, and another breath.

 

"I can't disprove it, not yet. ... And it's possible. But I think she's covering for him. The facts add up, but it doesn't feel right." Jaller searched for the words to explain, sighing angrily when he couldn't. "She says Kitea arrived the morning after her crime, and she went back to get him before she fled because she couldn't bear to part with him. Doesn't sound like someone she would take hostage to me, not under any circumstances. Her brother has been gone a very, very long time. She never knew where. Within a day of his return, she's committed a murder? A murder she's willing to own up to easily, tell me where to find the body even, but desperate enough to take her own brother hostage to get away? And then admitting everything while arguing his innocence once she's caught?"

"It doesn't add up. I tried, she's not going to give him up. She's determined that he go free. I need something in the evidence that doesn't fit her story." He drummed his fingers against the opposite bicep, arms crossed. "... And I need to turn them against each other. I can't make her think he's flipping on her, that'd just cement her story. I need him to think she's turning against him. I need to back him into a corner until he says something stupid. They don't have any opportunity to make sure their stories match, I just need to make him make a mistake."

 

A pause, and then more quietly; "I'm going to help her, Agni. I don't care what it takes. If I let her take the fall it will destroy whatever she has left."

 

IC:

"Absolutely nothing!" Saeva said brightly, rolling her shoulders and flashing the assembled group a grin. "So where are we going, ladies and gentlemen? Any suggestions?"

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC [Agni - Ta-Koro guard HQ]:

 

I breathed in sharply. If the information Jaller had been given checked out, I would potentially be able to break the case. I could feel myself getting anxious, everything in me screamed to get out there and find out what really happened. But I forced myself to slow down, breathe normally. Rushed police work was rotten police work.

 

I reached into my satchel, and produced the Kanohi I carried in it. 

 

"It's going to take this, Akiri."

 

He looked at me questioningly. Not surprisingly.

 

"Joske gave me this mask." I explained. "When he paved the way for the Maru into Mangaia. It's a one of a kind." I lowered my voice to 'conspiratorial', not taking any chances being within earshot of the interrogation room. "A normal mask of psychometry can only show the user the past of objects - this one can show the past of the deceased. If we have a body, we may have the answer."

 

Joske...if this panned out, I decided he was getting a hug the next time we crossed paths.

 

 

OOC: I knew this thing would come in handy again some time! Also, since Dor left, Agni doesn't know...

 

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

IC:

 

"A body is the only thing we have for sure." Jaller answered, eyes flicking over the Kanohi in Agni's hand. He didn't have any idea where it came from; he had never heard of such a mask. But it seemed, lately, like a whole lot of strange things had started happening. If the Ta-Toa claimed that was how the mask worked, he believed him. And the Matoran wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "It's in the morgue. Tuara directed us to it earlier today. I can hold them for a while without issue."

"If you can shed some light, that would be the best news I've had today."

 

IC:

"Absolutely nothing. Where do we wanna go? Any ideas, Tor?"

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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  • 2 months later...

IC:

 

[Ta-koro, Outer Residential District (Lucira)]

When Lucira’s cousin had heard she was going on a little excursion to Ga-Koro, he had, with his usual amount of affected disgruntlement, recommended she get herself a hat and volunteered an a list of the best bars in town.   Lucira had taken his advice on the hat. It was broad brimmed with a dark red ribbon tied around the band. A little flashy for her usual tastes, but she liked the color. Besides, she was on what could be termed a vacation, even if she had less than leasury motives for taking it.

As she affixed the hat to her head, she carefully checked her luggage over one last time.   It was all there--toiletries, changes of clothing, an emergency life vest, a couple small knives in case of issues, although she didn’t anticipate anything.

And the stone, of course.

--

 

As soon as the rush into the small chamber had started, Lucira had ducked under the arm of one of the other toa, eyes scanning and taking note of who was going where.   Loraan’s voice echoed ineffectually over the din, urging everyone to Please remain orderly and wait until the guard can send reinforcements before leaving. Tarotix was already moving towards the pool, and Lucira moved to follow him as the detective had instructed.

Something, probably jostled out of its hiding place by the other adventures poking around in the assorted piles of weapons and bits of machinery.   She glanced down and there it was. A small stone glimmering purple in the dim red light of the chamber. The Lieutenant slipped the object into her bag, heading once again towards the pool.

It wasn’t until when she took it out later, in the safety of her hut, that the full implication of what she had picked up reached her.

 


***


“It’s not for me.”

“And how do you know that?” Loraan asked, her eyes moving between Lucira and the stone on the table.  Lucira hadn’t really known where to take the stone--but she had opted for the detective since she had been in charge of the mission.   It most definitely did not have to do with said detective being kind of cute.

“I mean, look at it,” Lucira said, gesturing toward the stone.  “I was born and raised in Ta-koro, and besides Onu-koro I’ve barely traveled outside of it.   I can barely swim.”

Lucira thought she made a pretty good point.   The stone had looked purple in the light of the Mangai, however, the bright golden light of Loran’s lightstone revealed its true color: pale periwinkle blue, like the sea reflecting an early morning sky.   It was really pretty obvious--but Lucira had planned to say more. However, the feeling of surety that had seemed so strong in her hut, the feeling that she was meant to carry this stone and yet not use it, seemed silly to speak aloud in this room.


“I trust you, but this is really beyond my pay grade,” the detective replied, gesturing helplessly back at Lucira.   “The general policy with toa stones, as far as I understand, is to leave them to whomever found them, and destiny. If you want to, I can submit a request to the higher-ups, but considering how busy they are, I’m not sure when we’ll see it again.”

Lucira nodded hesitantly.   Outwardly, she kept her face schooled, but inside she felt like her brain was on a whirligig.   She was a good soldier, and some part of her had hoped there was something in the manual that covered this, a step-by-step guide on how to process unexpected toa stones.   This was ridiculous, of course. Mata Nui had never been that kind of guy.

She tapped a finger on the table.   “I have...a suggestion. From what I’ve gathered, our...encounter though not immediately relevant to the continued safety of this island, might be somewhat related to the strange happenings touched off by the fall of Ko-Koro.   I have no doubt that the presence of malevolent plant life would interest Hahli very much.”

She took out an envelope and placed it on the table, next to the stone.   “No doubt messengers have already been sent out, but I think as a participant I think I could provide some perspective.   I have been granted leave, and I figured that my time could better be spent in Ga-koro than here. I could answer any questions the Akiri has, and also ask her advice on this particular issue,” she continued, gesturing at the stone once again.   “I’ve detailed my request in this envelope--as the leader of the mission I would like your endorsement before I submit it.”

 
Loraan picked up the envelope as Lucira slid it across the table to her.   “Once again, I can’t promise anything. All the Akiri are very busy. But I’ll see what I can do.”

The detective smiled faintly, though Lucira couldn’t tell if it was genuine or from politeness.  She suddenly wondered if it had been a good idea to come here in the first place. The detective likely was trying to forget their encounter with the plant-creature.

She still smiled back.



--


Notification that her proposal had been approved came a couple days later.   Perhaps the higher ups had been pleased at her initiative and glad that she was taking something off her hands.   Then again, maybe she was fooling herself with that line of thinking. Lucira knew she was good at her job--she wouldn’t have been promoted otherwise, but she was normal and steady, not a standout.
 

She adjusted her hat in the mirror again, wondering why she felt so apprehensive.  Wasn’t this what she had wanted? To have some control over something, finally? To make a difference?

Somewhere inside her mind, some bitter voice whispered this wasn’t anything like that.   It wasn’t like she was destined to become a toa. She was just the messenger, the conduit for forces larger than herself.  Again.

But that was okay, she supposed.   Lucira couldn’t imagine being a toa, of needing it way someone out there, probably in Ga-koro, needed it.   Lucira was just fine where she was.

Someone else wasn’t.

With that thought, she finally turned and walked out the door, locking it behind her.

 

OOC: Lucira to Ga-Wahi.  The parts of this post dealing with the toa stone and Loraan have been pre-approved by staff.

  • Upvote 3

There's a dozen selves inside you, trying to be the one to run the dials

[BZPRPG Profiles]

Hatchi - Talli - Ranok - Lucira - FerellisMorie - Fanai - Akiyo - Yukie - Shuuan - Ilykaed - Pradhai - Ipsudir

And some aren't even on your side.

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  • 2 weeks later...

IC Yeri MacGukko

 

The cable car began to rock and creak it's way down the cliffside. From the recieving station one could only make out a shapeless blur of blue and green (unless your kanohi sported a telescopic attachment, that is). As the car began to rock back and forth the echoes began to reach the ears of those below.

The Mangai sung across the the Tren Krom ravine, and Mount Ihu answered back:

"OY!

The barrels of ale

floated down the trail

of Paaaa-pa Nihu Reef.

The tumbled down and they tumbled round

Pa-pa Nihu Reef.

As the barrels came down the lads gath'red round

Papa Nihu Reef.

OY!

[slower tempo]

"To-a, or 'M'kuta

P'raka, or Teh'raga

Non' 'at matters when the fellers gath'r round

Papa Nihu Reef"

 

It was a drinking song, to be sure, and the tempo didn't flow as well as some of the more "cultured" music of the island. But it's echoes filled the hot air with a certain warm friendliness as the unnamed rider continued on his unannounced campaign down the mountainside.

 

OOC Really excited to reintroduce Yeri. It's been too long. I know this post may seem familiar to some, but don't worry. He will get the proper writing he deserves.

640px-Rorschach_judge.jpg

--Character Profiles--

||--Veneras--|--MacGukko--|--Tharros--|--Xerrand--|--Tarian--|--Niralle--||

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  • 2 weeks later...

IC [Agni - Ta-Koro Guard HQ]:

 

With a final, brief nod of confirmation towards Jaller I was off, pacing out of the holding-cell area and made my way over to the morgue. Once there, I explained the situation to the examiner who led me into the morgue itself. Walking in there felt like I'd stepped into a different Koro altogether. Where the village of fire was basalt and obsidian bathed in a red glow, the chamber I found myself in was brightly lit and built from granite. It was also considerably cooler than the rest of the building.

 

Three granite blocks rose from the floor, their surfaces carved specifically for their purpose. Only one was in use right now. We stopped in front of the guard's body and my eyes lingered on it for a moment. The examiner took it as a cue and started to rattle off the injuries and cause of death. Truth be told I wasn't paying attention, my mind was back with Tuara in her cell. After a moment I realized he'd stopped talking and was looking at me expectantly. I thanked him and then went about the task at hand. 

 

I put my hand on the body's wrist, took a slow breath to prepare for what I was about to see, then triggered the Kanohi's ability. 

 

 

Lillith.thumb.png.4ea877d95fad8df467748273ab43bc36.png

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OOC: Dorian out of Ta-Wahi.

 

-Tyler

 

IC (Merror, Ta-Koro Guard HQ)

 

Merror had been slow in following Jaller to the interview rooms, and thus heard what the Akiri did not: soft, almost furtive footfalls in the hallway behind him. He turned, just in time to see a hint of grey disappear around the corner. Towards the exit.

 

Dorian.

 

The veteran deduced it immediately. He recalled what Dorian had said about Echelon and the Vault, and how little he'd said about it since. He knew the young Fe-Toa was impulsive, and a lone wolf when it suited him. The answer was clear: he was going to confront Echelon, and no doubt he intended to do so alone, slipping away while the others were distracted with this whole Tuara mess.

 

There was no time to gather the others; Dorian would soon be gone, Spirit knew where. But he should not have to face Echelon alone. So there was only one thing for Merror to do.

 

OOC: Merror out of Ta-Wahi

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  • 5 months later...

IC: why did she absolutely nothing twice? Am I losing it

"If we're looking for stuff to happen, shouldn't we hit the center of town?" he ventured, dutifully bowling over nine months of pondering in the story's equivalent thirteen seconds. "That's always a safe bet."


 

Edited by Razgriz

helo frens

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  • 3 months later...

IC: Ophaim

 

"Later."

 

IC: Mekana

 

"Hey you ####er, I'm back, and with the money I owe you!" 

 

Mekana was back, and with the money she owed Ophaim apparently. 

 

OOC: Mekana from Onu-Wahi

Edited by Snelly

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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