BZPRPG - Ko-Wahi

[Ghosthands]

IC (Zadron)

 

Zadron smiled emotionlessly.

 

"Thank you for your cooperation."

 

He stood up without another word to the woman, walking over to where the Lesterin lay, and after a moment's searching, found the object he was looking for: the man's grappling device. The severed rope, with grapnel attached, lay nearby, and he picked that up too.

 

Time to enact his escape plan.

 

Having pulled a little rope out of the machine, he made a few quick but firm knots to reattach it, giving it a quick tug to test its integrity. It seemed strong enough, so he hooked the device onto his belt and lifted the Lesterin up and into a fireman's carry over his shoulder. Keeping hold of the dead weight with one hand, he walked back to the lip of the mud-pool, and stared up at the edge of the pit, high above.

 

He aimed the grappler up at it, squinting to gauge his aim, and fired it. The metal hook shot up into the air, trailing its cable behind, and just reached the top, digging into the ice.

 

As the device slowly but surely reeled itself in, he climbed up the sheer surface, keeping a sure grip on the Lesterin to keep him from slipping off his shoulder. It was not too long before he reached the top.

 

He heaved the limp man up onto the snowy ground above, teeth gritted with the strain, then abseiled back down to collect Kiara.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC (Korero)

 

With Leah and Sulov off in search of the architect, Korero turned to Reordin.

 

"Ready?" he asked, extending a hand to his icy Toa-brother. The image of the street on which Jaa lived was already vivid in his mind and ready for the Hiko to use.

 

IC:

 

Reo levelled a pale gaze at Korero, the Maru he had known last and least. Korero knew that the Toa of Ice had been oddly fond of the Matoran whose spot as Toa-protector he now held, and that Reordin had always been a bit...prickly when it came to certain people. He was still, so deathly still, like he wanted to flay Korero alive from head to toe with nothing but his stare. Try as he might, after a second his hand began to inch back from Ko-Koro's protector. Reordin Maru's gaze flicked down to the retreating appendage with thinly veiled distaste.

 

Then the fog broke; he grinned widely, like a drunk whose joke had gone over well at the bar, chuckled, and took the hand. "You're way too easy, you know," he laughed. "Beam us up."

 

-Tyler

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

Korero smirked.

 

"You know, I could drop you right into the middle of the Fau Swamp if I liked," he riposted as he activated his mask.

 

The two Toa flashed white and disappeared, rematerialising a split-second later in a corridor near Jaa's office.

 

"Or maybe Lake Naho - you should hear the things Leah's told me about your swimming..."

 

If truth be told, Korero had been taken in (if briefly) by Reordin's feigned coldness. The Maru of Ice and Air hadn't always meshed perfectly, as despite hailing from the same village, there had been a lot of differences between them - especially in the early days of the team. Of all the Maru, Reordin was the one Korero was the least sure about his relationship with. He had often wondered whether the Toa of Ice even liked him. Certainly he was frequently the butt of the Ko-Toa's jokes.

 

But times had changed, and so had Korero - and he was determined to give as good as he got.

Edited February 1, 2014 by GhosthandsOfChristmasPast

[25K Now!]

IC: Zomma

 

It's cold and I'm bloody lost. Why did I even come here in the first place? Oh right, because I wanted to check out the ###### ice cream that Ko-koro's supposed to have. It's supposedly more delicious than your usual ice cream, but too bad I can't judge because I'm allowed in the city! What is with those gits? Bugger them. It's all their fault that I'm lost in this bloody snowfield in the middle of nowhere. "SORRY CANNOT LET YOU IN"? This is absolutely bogus.

 

Mata Nui it's cold.

 

I need soup pronto.

 

OOC: Open for interaction.

[EmperorWhenua]

IC: Ishi Polzin, The Hapaka (Citadel, Ko-Koro)

"I'm sorry to say, but I never learned proper etiquette for leaders of Koros," Ishi said while wavering in his position. "My name is Rōhi, and Doctor Gabel sent me as a courier for some papers she said needed to be delivered to you."

IC | Ambages

 

The hand had been expecting the report from the research hospital for a while by then. Gabel was nothing of not dedicated to her tasks and truly did find herself surrounded by the macabre -- purely for science, of course, or so she claimed. Ambages didn't care, though, content that she was doing her job to his satisfaction. That was the deal they struck: Gabel, would run the hospital according to her own desires providing she didn't violate any terms set by the architect, who both designed and funded the hospital as with the rest of the Academy. So far, Gabel had done admirably.

 

But few things in Ko-Koro were as they seemed. Ice wastes could be just as deceiving as sand dunes, giving way to their own sort of mirages, but were far more dangerous. So many things could be hidden in the snow, and unlike in Po-Wahi the snow drifts never moved like the dunes. Secrets tended to stay buried, though everyone with a keen mind strove to dig them up. And in Ko-Wahi none were better than Ambages.

 

"It's quite alright," he replied with his characteristic smooth tone. To the courier before him it was like Ambages had lubed his tongue with olive oil and the words seemed to dance off his tongue. The words were like honey, sweet and lingering long after they had been said. Over the years Ambages had perfected the art of his speech into an art and it had gotten him more assets than any legitimate professional work had ever garnered him. "As it is I'm barely the leader, anyway. No need to fret."

 

The doctor had been hired as a certain "Toa Gabel" but Ambages, being the master actor he was, could tell there was deceit in the air the moment he met with the smoky, rail-thin doctor. He did research of his own, temporarily foraying to his study to analyze documents and dossiers, until he began working with Caerus, who filled in the details he was missing. Gabel had no idea, but Ambages knew who she really was, to say the least. So long as Gabel did her job and did it well she got to not only keep the job but also her dignity and identity. In ways beyond the material Ambages owned her. So long as Gabel did her job and did it well...

 

But then, as Ambages looked the courier over once and once again, he had a tinge of doubt about Gabel Riaril. Had the doctor made a mistake?

 

"Thank you for this," Ambages said, taking the papers from the courier with some earnestness, seemingly out of great interest in the contents. He quietly leafed through the first couple pages to look involved, but then promptly shut the folder and slid it into a drawer. "But..." he said inquisitively, cocking his head slightly to the left and a little bit back.

 

The courier fidgeted.

 

"Would you have another reason to be concerned?" He let the idea mingle in the space between the two matoran like their breath did, which turned nebulous in the icebox of an office. It was uncomfortable and stuffy despite the vastness of space, especially for the Hand. Ambages liked being the akiri's second more than the commander of the village, in part because as mere associate he could work from his apartment, by the fireplace, with his cognac and books which he so loved. The office, and the Sanctum as a whole, was far too stark, too cold, too ###### spiritual for him. He loathed it and its necessity.

 

The courier was an actor of his own right; Ambages could see that. It took one to know one. "Rōhi" didn't give anything away. Yet.

 

Ambages face spawned a knowing smile as he began to explain what he knew. "I own the hospital and visit it sporadically. I got to know the employees there well and 'Rōhi' isn't on any manifest I've read. Which means you're either new -- which I'm inclined to doubt because Gabel wouldn't send someone she didn't know to me with an important report -- or 'Rōhi' is... a fabrication."

 

At that point the Hand leaned back in his chair and clasped his fingers across his belly, at ease. He knew an actor when he saw one and this was an actor. "So tell me, who is standing in before me in the office of the akiri, and why are you lying to me?"

Edited February 1, 2014 by Daenerys Targaryen

[Aurora the cat]

OOC: ATM I am at a very time limiting situation. I can't make that long of posts, if at all, as I am studying for the ACT (though I will be posting a lot on the grand finale).

 

IC: Kiara

 

She watched as the vortixx moved to make the grapple, for the most part, functioning, and transport the lesterin up the cliff. She was helpless, and her fear and hatred of that sheer fact was evident. Though she did submit to what ever her accomplish did, she did not submit with pleasure.

 

IC: Ferum, The twins (Airith, Atakta)

 

Although the facility was large, the fact that only four people that occupied it was quiet sad. Though, then again, it was only a month old, so it's inhabitants had not had the time to gather others. A months time was a long time in the companies opinion, long enough for them to build a large strategical base, but the extensive planning that had already happened did shorten the time.

 

The fe-matoran had checked the internal working of all of the doors, and even fixed a few weak spots. Ferum had check everything end over end, ensuring that nothing was wrong. The slightest error could mean everything against them. He knew this, and ensured that all six exits to the drifts were safe, and could be properly, demolished, if necessary. Though something was off. The matoran knew there was one thing wrong with the base and he couldn't stop it. He sighed, he would have to live with the imperfection.

 

It was Airith who broke the silence of the facility.

 

"Ya'll, I think if we want to get started on this, we need to get plannen er something."

 

"For once he is right, Ferum, you got any idea's?"

 

"...... One, but in the works."

 

"Well lets here it, c'mon!"

 

"No, not enough."

 

"Enough what? Explosive devices?"

 

"C'mon, spit it out."

 

Ferum sighed.

Edited February 2, 2014 by Aurora the cat

[They]

OOC: Sorry for the delays.

IC: Riaril (Nuju-Marion Research Hospital, Ko-Wahi)

“If you need time to pay off what’s left,” Riaril responded dryly, “I’m happy to let you make an up front payment and then monthly installments with ten percent interest until you’re debt’s filled. Of course, I can also use manual labor around the hospital. Some choose scraping the ice off the windows for a week with their tongue, others enjoy scrubbing the hallways with their kanohi. I had this one patient a while back, boy was he a ruffian… Ended up trashing my office with crystal. Needless to say he basically became my slave.”

The doctor paused long enough to light a cigarette, lost in thought. Her comment about Tarex brushed against the closed doors of her past, and unbidden memories surged forward. The martial artist had stopped her going berserk but damaged her office in the process. As a way to pay for the damages, the toa of crystal became the bag-boy, the handy-man, and the courier for almost a month. Back then things had been different, filled with quirks to be sure, but overall far less macabre in nature. Now, in the cold of Ko-Wahi, Riaril felt like a corpse, devoid of any real purpose. After a sigh she continued. “Why am I even saying these things to you? The point is, you’re welcome to work here to pay off a portion of your bill. I’ll leave you to rest for now.”

Rising, Riaril left the ward, taking the winch-powered elevator to her office in the central tower. The curtains pulled aside to reveal a snowy landscape. It felt like a cage.

“Ah, it’s not like I have anything better to do anyways…” She shook her head and stepped away from the window. Her office was octagonal, with a Murphy bed taking up the northern wall. It was still out, the sheets unmade from another night of tossing and turning. Riaril collapsed on the spring mattress, feeling even more alone as she slowly crawled under the sheets.

“Hurry up slowpokes. I swear, a dermis turtle’d make you all eat dust.” Riaril griped as they raced through the jungle. Takimoc, the jester of the group, remained discomfortingly silent as he splashed through the marsh alongside her. The four matoran saved their replies for later, sucking in great gasps of air as they struggled to keep up. Riaril turned back to look where she was going and performed a speed vault over an exposed root, her toes pointing like arrows as her hands tacked off the mossy wood. With a splash she landed back in the marsh. “I just hope we make it in time.”

“Aye,” Moriika said between wheezing breaths, and several paces behind. “Certainly didn’t get much in the way of a warning.”

“Are you sure it’s not just rahi The le-matoran were saying the infected rahi were getting more aggressive.” Nakumiir asked, breaking even with the onu-matoran.

Riaril gritted her teeth. “I don’t know, but if it is rahi then that’s all the more reason to hurry. Anything we can do to stall The Makuta helps. In any case I’m tired of burying bodies.”

Takimoc nodded and they all fell silent save for their labored breathing. Faerulo stumbled on a hidden rock, but the journalist pulled him back up before he could fall. The trees began to thin, and through the growing spaces between their trunks a wide flat-land could be seen. Riaril burst into the open first with her sai in hand, feet sliding on the ground after the morning’s rainfall. Her head whipped around in time to see a pair of skakdi locked in fierce combat with the buzzing drone of a nui-rama swarm hovering above them. They were back to back, a rare sight of teamwork as they worked their elements to try and stave off the inevitable. Takimoc came to a stop alongside Riaril, his jaw tight and fire already burning from his clenched fists.

“This - This is crazy!” Faerulo shouted over the din. “How did we not hear them? We can’t do this on our own.”

“Look! They’re protecting someone.” Nakumiir pointed to the unmoving body of a toa, nearly hidden in the grass.

“Takimoc, try and get the swarms attention. Faerulo and Moriika, you two help with that. Lead as many as you can into the jungle for the time being. Nakumiir, stay close to me - we’re gonna’ try and get to that toa.”

“And me?”

Riaril stalled for a moment, her golden eyes staring at the po-matoran with the orange stripe down his left side. He was the peculiar one of the group, only there for his expose on the growing unrest under Makuta’s reign. “You stay out of the way and do your job for the Daily. Right, okay. Team Kanohi Dragon, move out!”

Riaril blinked. The exposed beams of her ceiling hovered out of reach of her extended hand. With a groan she rose up on an elbow. “Stupid dreams.”

IC: Catarix (Mata-Nui Daily Office, Ko-Koro)

“Stupid dreams.”

The words echoed in the record’s room for Ko-Koro’s branch office of the Mata-Nui Daily. A crackling hearth worked its magic in the main room, alone save for the empty mug sitting on a newspaper, congealed butter fat resting at the bottom of the ceramic. Catarix entered, faded paper tucked under his shoulder, shaking his head all the while.

“The karz was he up to, leaving us in the dark all those years?” He paused long enough to stare at the illustration depicting a different Ishi standing on a bar stool, head height with his two similarly adopted siblings. “You wanted to show the world it’s shadows, and then you became one.”

Under the illustration was the obituary.

Ishi Polzin, third adopted son of the Polzin family and shipping empire, fell during a battle in Le-Wahi with a swarm of infected Nui-Rama. He was traveling with Team Kanohi Dragon, the famed medical squad, as part of his work. Although the po-matoran left no family behind, he will be remembered by his colleagues at the Mata-Nui Daily. Although his body has not been recovered, a memorial service for the brave journalist will be held at the Polzin Manor in Ga-Koro…

IC: Ishi Polzin, The Hapaka (Akiri’s Office, Ko-Koro)

Ambages’ smooth deduction echoed like thunder after a lightning strike from the vaulted ceiling. The speed of calculation, the ease in which he spoke. Everything Ambages endeavored was sure in its footing, sound in its logic, and true to reason; he was a viper slowly coiling around his prey. A green informant would have balked and, like a startled bird, broken cover only to fall into the waiting trap. Someone with more practice might have attempted to keep the ruse going, but eventually a lack of prefabricated lies would expose them. A gambler might have revealed the cards and produced leverage as a weapon. Ishi was neither the green novice who would sprint for the door, nor was he the journeyman reaching for metaphorical straws, and the one thing Ishi never revealed was his playing hand. Ishi Polzin was… Different. If Ishi hadn’t been in character he might’ve hugged Ambages on the spot.

“Lying?” Ishi repeated as he pulled his bag closed and slung it back over his shoulder, his burdens of truth weighing almost nothing. “That’s a rather harsh assessment of someone just trying to pay off their hospital bills, sir. But your deduction skills are superb. I can see why you were chosen as Hand to Akiri Matoro, may he rest in peace. You must enjoy riddles, yes? I’ve taken up the hobby myself. It’s always good for clearing away the mental cobwebs, I guess I could say.”

He paused to let the thought simmer, rocking from toe to heel as his hands clasped behind his back. “Would you like to hear a riddle?”

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: Ambages twisted in his seat, not used to being placed in such a situation as that. On one hand he was up for a challenge by a stranger, but on the other he was not used to being challenged in the first place. Nevertheless, his curiosity got the better of him and he nodded slowly. "Go ahead," Ambages said, seeming cool and calm in his chair. "Let's see what you've got."

[They]

IC: Ishi Polzin

 

"What has a face but never sees its tail, always moves but has no feet, lives forever but never sleeps?" Ishi asked as he stood in the small office, eyes pointed toward the ceiling as he listened to the riddle echo in the office, realizing how any word spoken would never go unheard. After a moment he looked back at the Vizier, calmly awaiting the moment of truth: would Ambages answer correctly? The informant didn't doubt his opponent's capabilities. In fact, he relished the opportunity to watch the speed at which Ambages could think.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: Ambages twitched, at first swamped with possibilities. His gears whirred at lightning speed to weed out the rotten guesses.

 

Rock. It was the first thing that came to mind. A carved rock, perhaps in the figure of an animal or person. But the architect had discovered over the years that his first ideas were typically not the best ones. Knowledge was only bred by long study and fostered learning, not by jumping to conclusions, and the hastiness that the idea of a hewed statuette was the answer quickly dispelled the notion.

 

The answer would have to not only be something simple but also meaningful, at least to him of not to the both of them. It had to be interesting, otherwise it wasn't on the table for discussion. The statuette idea was finally perfect if taken literally but there was no imagination behind it, no intrinsic meaning to make it special. It wasn't rock.

 

"I've decided I do not like riddles." But despite the consternation in his voice his eyes still were alight with interest; there was no sign that he was slowing down in his analysis.

 

What has a face? he asked himself. Rocks do. Carved rocks. Cliffs. Mountains. (Both relevant to Ko-Koro.) 'Facing the issue/fears/truth.' (Relevant to secrecy and politics.) He took that harvest and tried to match the ideas with the rest of the equation: Does it have a tail? Does it have life? Does it sleep? Cliffs had no tail; they were out. Mountains did trail off into ridges and some did have trails on them, but Ambages had a hard time convincing himself that it was the answer; mountains meant very little to him. No, the actor had to have chosen something obviously associated with the Hand. It was almost a rule of the game. The ethereal ideas, those of 'facing' something, were quickly dissolved; they were aspects of personality and not open knowledge. There had to be a simpler answer...

 

Important... Clear... Relevant...

 

Of course! he thought as it struck him. It's so obvious!

 

Coins!

 

"The answer is a coin," Ambages finally said -- his analysis had taken all of three seconds from the end of his last sentence. He must have been going soft. "It has a head side and a tail side and you can only see one side or the other. Money will always hold value and its exchange never rests." And as the island's wealthiest man money had a very specific relationship to his identity, one that was an open secret to anybody.

 

"So now that I've played your little game and solved your riddle, it's my turn to flip it around. Who are you and why did you pretend?" he asked, this time more forcefully, menacingly even, though not as blatantly as a threat. "You've made it this far into my castle but don't test my patience any longer, or else I might get bored and do something, well, I'll call it 'less than diplomatic.' I don't, and Ko-Koro does not, suffer liars, criminals or assassins, would-be or otherwise. So, please, make yourself plain to me."

 

Okay, thaaaat was a threat.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

"I wouldn't start, you air-headed little twerp. You don't want to hear the things Leah tells me." But Reordin's verbal cross had lost some of its latent, jagged edge, and after the dimensional jump Korero turned to the Maru of Ice - it may have been a trick of the vibrant light that accompanied Hiko usage, but he could have sworn he'd seen the faintest glint of an approving half-smile on Reo's face.

 

Nahhh. No way.

 

Whatever look he had on his face, it was wiped off when they entered the small confines of Jaa's office. If there's no rest for the wicked, what about the wicked handsome? Do they get twice the lack of rest? He thought about asking Korero, but decided that kind of jest deserved the sort of laconic "No." that only Sulov could muster. So he let it slide.

 

-Tyler

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

What thoughts Korero had on Reordin's reaction were banished as the two Toa walked into the room. As surprising as that look of approval (yes, he was sure of it) was, and as hopeful he suddenly felt for getting on with the Toa of Ice, the sight of the Scribe immediately dragged his optimism back down to be replaced with the controlled urgency that had been stirred up by Leah's ominous revelation.

 

"Jaa!" he greeted the Matoran with a businesslike smile. "Sorry to pounce on you after such a short time, but we need to ask you a few questions."

 

IC (Zadron)

 

Zadron lifted Kiara as he had Veirath, and began the ascent. Unfortunately for her, it was impossible for Zadron to carry her without putting pressure on her abdomen. The climb would most likely be less than pleasant.

 

On reaching the top, he pushed her off his shoulder and onto the snow next to the Lesterin, before hauling himself up. He paused for breath, leaning against his knees, before straightening up and taking a look around. The snow was thin, fortunately, so he could just about make out nearby landmarks. Judging by the position of Mount Ihu, they were in the Drifts but not too far from civilisation.

 

Now he just needed some way of carrying his two 'companions'. He began to scout around the immediate area.

 

After a few minutes, he found what appeared to be the remains of a small shack, half-buried in the snow and clearly long since abandoned by whoever had built it. The door, however, was a large and sturdy piece of wood - good enough for a makeshift sled. Having torn it off its hinges, he dragged it back to where the others lay and, having placed the two of them on top of it, attached the rope from Veirath's grapple, and began to pull it through the drifts.

 

It was tough going, hauling twice his own bodyweight in the freezing cold, but the well-conditioned Vortixx made good progress and before too long his destination was in sight: the Nuju-Marion Research Institute. Lights glowed from its windows as he dragged his unusual burden towards a back door.

 

He pulled Kiara and Veirath off the 'sled', lowering them onto the doorstep. Retrieving their respective belongings (Veirath's grapple and Kiara's drone) and tossing them beside the prone beings, he took a moment to look down disdainfully at his erstwhile accomplice.

 

"About this whole 'saving-your-life' thing," he said. "It's nothing personal. It's just that there's a good chance that one day, I might be hired to kill you, and I don't like to waste a good job opportunity."

 

He made three sharp knocks on the door, and gave Kiara one last sneer.

 

"Get well soon."

 

He turned and stalked quickly back to the Drifts, and by the time the Institute's medics found Kiara and Veirath, the assassin was nowhere to be seen.

Edited February 2, 2014 by GhosthandsOfChristmasPast

[They]

IC: Ishi Polzin

Playtime was over. The interest Ambages held for Ishi was spinning into something more sinister, like a coin rotating in the air. The possible resolutions dwindled, leaving only one input where the outcome might equal survival. Ishi had planned for this. Moving forward, a sign of determination or attempted domination, would have been stupid. Instead, he kept his footing on the icy floor, not making any movement to indicate a desire to leave or even to overcome Ambages through force. Stirring the pot would only bring chaos.

“Identity is a strange bird,” Ishi said with a sad smile. “You can squash it and strangle it into oblivion, rip it from the history books and burn the remains of its fragile body, and still it will laugh at you every time you pass a mirror. No, Ambages, you’re right. I’m not Rōhi, or at least not anymore. That rose withered after you answered my riddle. Now I’m just Ishi Polzin, at your service.”

He gave a soft bow with his head, orange and blue eyes twinkling. “Yes, I’m a guilty man, but I’m also a good sleuth, and far more valuable alive than skewered by the two guards outside. Besides, I’m not the only liar in this room, am I?”

Edited February 3, 2014 by Kughii

[EmperorWhenua]

IC | Jaa | His office

 

The wiry scribbler looked up from the ollecton of edicts and records authored at Matoro's behest and saw his old friend pop into view with a flash of light, which both scared and awed him. "Korero! Sure, yes, absolutely. What can a little scribe like me do to help?" he asked.

 

 

IC | Ambages | Akiri's office

 

The Hand propped his head on his left hand, arm propped up on the armrest, and chuckled, giving his first expression of good nature since telling the courier to be at ease, and shook his head. "I should have known it was you, Ishi," he said slowly. He knew that name, heard it mentioned by Caerus in reports, seen it in his private archives, and though Ishi Polzin was officially classified as deceased there were rumours drifting around that said otherwise. They were just verified.

 

"I can't say I'm impressed or surprised, so you'll have to forgive me for not being excited," he said, stirring to sit upright and look at Ishi directly. "Identity is never what you choose to make it, it's what others perceive. That's why changing a name can confuse the enemy and make you invisible -- for a time, anyway. But I think you know all that, it's how you've come this far, anyway. Therein lies your mistake, Polzin." Ambages leaned on his desk, leering closer to the little matoran before him. "You came this far."

 

With the knowledge that Ishi Polzin likely still existed, Ambages understood that it was only a matter of time before his overt activities would attract a cunning man, and Ishi Polzin fit that bill. As such, Ishi posed a threat. The fact that Ishi worked for Caerus did nothing to help his case as it was not unknown for Peers to plot against one another; power often left many competent people overly confident and assured of victory, greedy for more even when the only way to get more was by ripping it from an ally, so in fact it served against Ishi at that point in time.

 

What perplexed Ambages, and that was by no means a good thing, was why Polzin would even endeavor to approach him there without a reason. It made Ambages doubt when he was already in a paranoid fit, with Leah Maru scowling at him and Captain Korzaa doubting his sincerity already. The Hand did not appreciate the questionable circumstance Ishi Polzin's presence posed. In his mind there were only two answers possible:

 

Answer one: Ishi Polzin was offering his intellect to Ambages' cause. Ambages hoped that wasn't the case. He didn't need loose screws or cannons or threads and double-agents would be all of the above. He didn't want Ishi's help, he didn't need it and he certainly wasn't going to take it. And while a possibility, it wasn't what a smart man would do. A smart man would remain in the shadows and avoid being in the service of a creature who could break it, especially when it was already in the service of a good master. Though the more Ambages thought about it he didn't think it was a possibility, he kept it in mind.

 

Answer two: Ishi Polzin was there as a courier of much more than Matoro's coronary report. A warning, perhaps? An ultimatum? Ambages considered the gaps in his acting before -- had 'the Hapaka' found one such loophole? Despite the immediate threat this possibility posed Ambages much preferred it. He could answer danger directly, address it with unflinching cunning and effortless force and end it before it grew out of control. One needle-thin blast of shadow from his fingertip to Ishi's head would end it, or slam on the trap door release to put Ishi in the dungeon, or flip the switch for the guards to storm in and skewer Ishi like the would-be assassin he could be framed as.

 

Either way, Ishi was on thin ice. He wasn't the kind of person to lay down his hand but at that point the odds were stacked against him and he was all at fault. Maybe Ishi had a trick up his sleeve or he wasn't as smart as he was said to be, but he still needed to show his cards. Ambages grew weary of the mind game and was losing interest quickly, and every second just doubled the amount Ambages considered Ishi a man worth swiftly executing.

 

"In order for this conversation to continue I need to know what make yo think you're worth anything to me alive. So. Why are you here?" he asked. "And calling me a liar earned you no respect points from me. Bold, cute even, but not smart. Come on, Polzin -- you're said to be so clever. Impress me."

Edited February 3, 2014 by Daenerys Targaryen

[The Dark Chronicler]

IC: Mayixa

 

The cookies were done! Oh how delightful it was, nothing beat the taste of a delicious fire-baked batch of cookies. They were a little hot, but I was a Toa of fire. I could withstand the mouth-burning heat. I hadn't heard from Neroxidecost for a few days now, even when asking him where I should go next. And he had already told me only one more day of preaching here, which I had long ago completed. So for now, I was just going to go about my life as normal. And nothing said normal like a nice batch of cookies.

 

The last time I had made these cookies was the day that I... never mind, the next day was the important one. That was when i had been given the honor of meeting the Great and Glorious One himself.

 

No sooner had I thought his name than his holy voice echoed out within my head. "You are to head towards the village of fire. There you will preach my message."

 

As soon as the message was received, I was heading towards my door. It was quite cold out there, but my newly found determination would keep me warm with the power of his sacred mission. As I stepped outside of my door, I couldn't help but shout. "Praise Neroxidecost, what a glorious day!"

[They]

IC: Ishi Polzin, The Hapaka (Akiri's Office, Sanctum, Ko-Koro)

“You present an impossible puzzle. Maybe you’re wondering if I will attempt to impress you with knowledge of classified information, spouting some little flash-bang, some secret tid-bit with which to win your attention, as if I were a chef appealing to your palate with exotic morsels, but no, I won’t be cooking. If I were to say something that sparked your appetite, it would not be satiated until I had been removed, the recipe eliminated along with me.”

The words echoed as he paced in the small office, taking in the details of his current location as he spoke. Icy sconces were placed at mathematically calculated intervals, felt bags over the light-stones they held removing what illumination they might have emitted. Instead, the sunlight seeping through the walls of ice served enough in the mid-afternoon of Ko-Koro. By a similar attention to detail he noticed the thin lines in the floor where he had been standing, which hinted to some form of hidden trap. Turaga Matau had kept an ejection platform in his hut, but in the enclosed space of the Akiri’s Office there was nowhere to go except down. By reason, it led to either a dungeon or a meat grinder.

“And,” Ishi continued without breaking what had become a growing monologue, “if I were to offer my services it would prove myself untrustworthy given our associated connections with a certain arachnid. Besides,” here Ishi paused to slide a finger across the large desk only to find no dust, “I have enough sense to see such an offer is unwanted. You’ve been incredibly calm, never having left your seat since reclining. Judging by a common thread of my previous meetings with others you should be attempting to pull out my tongue or bust in my teeth about now. By doing nothing it shows your control of the situation, or at least it would if not for your pupils. A man’s gaze speaks volumes, Ambages. When we’ve lived the kinds of lives we’ve lived, so full of stress and plotting and scheming, eventually our eyes dilate enough for it to be noticeable to the trained, well for lack of a better word, eye. You’re having some anxiety issues.”

In a daring move the matoran turned away, exposing his back as he looked over the door. It was a moment short lived, and with his coat swaying about he returned his eyes to Ambages, still sitting in the chair. “I heard a rumor, or maybe it was more of a general conversation, among the guards on my way up to your office. It seems like there are Maru here. Four Maru, to be exact. I personally would dread running into Leah Maru, her powers of perception were stunningly shown in the trial regarding a failed assassination attempt on Akiri Hahli’s life. After that story went to print no one who makes a living off of secrets would want to be in her presence, that’s common sense. But, you’re not supposed to be a man of secrets, are you? You’re Ambages, Vizier and Hand to the deceased Akiri and now current interim leader until you’re also named Akiri. You’re stuck in a position where it would raise alarm to not see her, an aberrant behavior saved for people more like, well, me.”

Ishi smiled.

“Of course I’m assuming she’s here because when Maru arrive after the death of someone important, and a murder at that, it just makes sense for a pretty toa with a mood ring for a face to tag along and interrogate the suspects. Although,” Ishi gave a forlorn glance at the ceiling, “putting them to The Question would be fun too… I got to do that once. Of course I got stuck with some lousy cultist who was fine with their arms all… Sorry I’m rambling aren’t I? The point is: you’ve got your work cut out juggling all your different faces.”

“Why am I here?” Ishi scratched the back of his head and gave a laugh. “Honestly, I’m not here because someone wanted me to carry some message or anything so dull. I’m here for three reasons, and they can all be summed up by one thing…”

Ishi’s hand returned to view and with a flick of his thumb the widget he had palmed during his turn away from the door from up his sleeve arced through the air to land with dramatic showmanship on the desk. “Coins."

“I’m here first and foremost to say hello and enjoy a stimulating conversation with someone who actually has a a decent intelligence level. How often do you get house calls from visitors who aren’t trying to pin some evil deed to the lapel of your admittedly rather well cut wool coat, hm? From one genius to another it must feel so dull surrounded by brakas’ who do very little except wave sharp objects in one another’s faces. Meeting you is a connection, and by my good luck allows me to reduce my hospital bill significantly with the little courier job.

“Second, I’m here for my family.” Ishi paused to straighten his face from the animated delight he had previously exhibited. “I know I don’t look the part of the family man, but my sister and brother are important to me. We’re a unit, and I’d very much hate to see that unit actually become functional. My sister, however, has more than proven herself a takea shark in the sea of commercial opportunity. Isn’t it about time she, as the head of Polzin Shipping Co., is given a seat in that charitable organization called the Cultured Gentry? In the thirty years I’ve decided to play dead she’s done an amiable job growing the company. Now, only Horseman Shipping holds any sort of competition in the market. I want her in the Gentry. It’s cash for the family, and besides she’d make a good ally for you. She’s all logos, my sister.

“Third and finally, I’m here because I want to get you seated on that Throne of Kopaka pronto, again, for financial reasons. In exchange for me leaving this room and enjoying my forced vacation during Ko-Koro’s lockdown without any sort of bodily harm I’ll gladly help stop a rather elaborate plan to depose you and shut off most of your connections with the outside world. You are not, for some random reason, a well liked man, Ambages. Despite the generous contributions you’ve made it seems the public is just swelling with resentment for the little man with the earmuffs. I’ve been to a few meetings, and I can easily help dig up the roots of the plants before they sprout and give you a headache.”

Ishi crossed his arms, quelled his mind, and gave a thin smile at the de-matoran in the chair. “You said identity is what others perceive. As an experiment, take a look at the widget. You’ll see the face has weathered from use, age has made it’s spokes brittle and scraped. But is it still not a widget?”

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic:

The Hand stared at Ishi Polzin for quite a long moment and neither man did so much as breathe for that pause, but it was the Hand who broke the silence. He exhaled loudly through his nostrils and slid his lips to the left in a genuine grin, then bobbed his head up and down, clearly showing Ishi at least succeeded in retaining his attention for another roll of the dice. But then he slid back from the desk and sat upright in his chair and clasped his hands on his chest, quietly gauging Ishi's performance before giving his review.

"So you come to me seeking to make a trade," Ambages said, "with goods you can only promise me of and nothing for me to bite on except references to how the goods can maybe help me do... something. Meanwhile, you perfectly addressed how my end of the bargain would help you and your family. Mmmmm... I'll give you a seven out of ten; it's entertaining, but I'd only see your sales show after the half-off coupons were mailed out en-masse." He winked. "It's all about the coins. I'm sure you can understand."

 

Ambages pushed away from the desk and leaned back in his chair before clasping his hands across his chest, oozing political calm. Ishi had made several keen observations of his personality but he had also made two blunders and Ambages was more than willing to point them out.

 

"Yes, it's true: The Maru are here and Leah among them, but as both Jaa and Korzaa can tell you I've already met and spoken with her and..." He opened his hands and gestured in a half-shrug to present himself, "I'm still here." He clasped his hands again. "We may be smart but we're nothing alike. Unlike you I've learned long ago that lying only postpones the inevitable. It's a loan with high interest, an investment not worth making." Unless you can buy the bank with it, anyway, he thought to himself.

 

"People detest me because I represent something none here like: The unalterable death of the akiri. I don't want this power, I have it because I was chosen for it. You mistake a competent step to maintain order as the sign of an eager powergrab. You don't know me, Ishi Polzin, and you clearly don't know what I want, either. If there are circles who want to see me deposed they may continue to hope their way is granted, but until then they are still my wards and I will serve the whole of Ko-Koro as Hand until an akiri is chosen -- I'm not expecting to be elected at this rate."

 

He moved on to the other matters. "Mmmm, your sister is an interesting woman. As chairman of the Gentry I've been watching her activities, both personal and with the company, and I say that if she wants to be a part of the Cultured Gentry she may join it, but that will happen by her own petition and volition and not due to her lost brother's pleading. If she feels she can contribute to the club she is more than welcomed to ask for membership herself, but from you, you're just giving me a blank check with an unclear number from a finite bank account." He shrugged. "It's not good for business to accept wild card checks."

 

Looking down on the widget without seizing it and observed it from his chair. It was well-worn, tarnished and blemished from years of use and exchanges. "Now, this coin of yours you are soooo enraptured by -- though I can't imagine why what is. You see a widget, but that is not what I see. This trinket is an avatar of the Mata Nuian economy, an infinitesimally minor fraction of it but a part nonetheless. It is a widget because what people call it but it's soooo much more than that, isn't it, Ishi?" He reached across and picked the coin to inspect it up at his eyes.

 

"People call this a widget not because some bloke wipes his ###### and saw the letters w-i-d-g-e-t spelled out on the tissue, it's because some smart people came together and gave a name to a concept, the concept of money. The coin never asked to be called a widget; it takes whatever name people give it. The identity of this coin is what people perceive it to be, not what it chooses to be, and so it can be anything to anybody. Personally... I'm the richest man on the island. You can keep your trinket." He flicked it across the room and back at Ishi's face.

 

"While I appreciate your joy in playing this little game of words, but I do not accept your offers. But you came here to do business and I am a businessman at heart, so I cannot let you go until after I make an offer of my own." He smiled as he delivered his response. "You say you are a good sleuth, I say you're alright for a reporter. An akiri recently died here and I want to know who was behind it. Find that out. So if you do what I say, I'll make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes."

 

It was a fair deal, he felt -- that was to say, not fair at all. Ishi tried to make a deal with nebulous information that stacked odds against Ambages, and so the Hand responded with a deal that featured equally great benefits to him in turn. But unlike Ishi, he had leverage, and in Ishi's begging, pleading, pathos-driven negotiation he had given Ambages all the information he needed to turn it all against Ishi.

 

No more words. Ambages smiled broadly.

Edited February 3, 2014 by Daenerys Targaryen

[They]

IC: Ishi Polzin, The Hapaka (Akiri’s Office, Sanctum, Ko-Koro)

Ishi palmed the coin, letting it vanish with a sleight of hand. “Well, I guess I was hoping for too much, thinking you’d offer a cup of hot buttered tea and a fireside chat. You’re a busy man after all.”

He shrugged, letting the tension of the moment dissipate like the uncertain laughter after a poorly timed joke. Ambages’ little speech had been enlightening, to say the least. Somehow, the Machiavellian Prince had done the impossible and beaten a Maru at her own game. The kanohi of Intent allowed its user to see the auras of those around them at all times, so far as Ishi had learned in the past couple months. Could Ambages have been capable of hiding his emotions so thoroughly? Ishi looked back at the dilated eyes he had previously used to deduce Ambages’ stress and inwardly discarded the notion. No, no one was capable of so thoroughly lying to themselves, there were always traces of the truth hidden in plain sight. Ambages had even been the one to point out the finite use of hiding one’s identity. If the Ruhaku was designed to see through the smokescreen of deception there were only one option: Ambages was exempt from its powers of detection. But why? There was something more to The Architect than met the eye, and Ishi was beginning to feel it was darker and far more dangerous than he could imagine. Yes, he knew much about Ambages’ covert exploits and sinister plots, but to fully escape the unique powers of Leah Maru unscathed was something on another level. Had Ahkmou known about this and handed over the kanohi komau with the true knowledge of Ambages’ powers? Had he died for knowing such secrets?

“I reasoned a letter would have arrived from my sister by now,” Ishi stated after the momentary pause. “It was a logical assumption, but then, I once met a woman who very candidly said ‘assumptions can kill,’ and I’ve been keen to follow her advice until just then.” He side-stepped around the trapdoor, the first recognizable display of his knowledge of the device. Before, Ishi had simply kept his position to the edges as he paced, in the chance it might open and he would have to dive for safety, but now it was time to slowly reveal what he could see. Standing by the desk, he looked down at Ambages sitting comfortably in the chair, electricity dancing between their guarded gazes.

“I can tell you who the killer was without leaving this office. As for who was behind it, I may need to borrow Korero Maru’s powers of travel. He is here of course. I see no other way the Maru could arrive so suddenly and in such number, none wear the kakama after all. The killer of Akiri Matoro was found by your own guards. His autopsy report included with the papers I brought you. Unfortunately, the guard did a mediocre job in examining the location of his death, but between their report to your doctor and her own exemplary examination I can piece together the story, up to a point.” Ishi leaned back, moving his head and neck until a soft pop echoed in the room. “That’s better.

“Our killer was found apparently frozen to death in an alleyway alongside an inn. He was in an odd position, but the guard assumed the de-matoran had frozen, nothing more than a homeless beggar. During the autopsy, however, a few things arose which Dr. Gabel found notable enough to scribble alongside the musings of an insomniac with a cigarette addiction: the matoran had suffered a fall from some height, but the trauma to the neck and spine were not enough to cause death, his mouth held the residue of a common sedative known to be poisonous in high doses, and there were small flakes of frozen blood lodged between the pinky and ring finger servo joints. From this information I can extrapolate when he stole the weapon from the scribe’s hands it was with an overhanded grab," Ishi demonstrated the motion himself, his right hand reaching over the top of his left fist, "leaving the chisel in the attacker’s right hand as a reverse gripped weapon. Although range would be limited, it would allow him to put more power into a downward stab, leaving a puncture wound angled as if someone tall had performed the kill. Matoro’s blood would have splattered on his hand, particles lodging in the servos even after he would have washed away most of the stain.

“He must’ve been staying at the inn he was found outside. I happened to pass the location on the way here: there’re balconies on the second floor. At some point he’d have ingested something containing a lethal dosage of the sedative, a rewarding drink after a successful hit perhaps, while observing the city from his room’s balcony. Once the sedative got into the system, boom, he’d lose stability and fall over the edge, implanting the noted trauma to his neck and spine.”

Ishi nodded to himself, letting the deduction settle before he tackled the next portion of the crime.

“Of course, you asked me who was behind the killing and so far I’ve only told you who the murderer was.” He tapped a finger to his kaukau thoughtfully and spun in a tight circle. “I believe this is where extrapolation until further evidence is found comes in. Our arachnid friend seemed to know Matoro’s life was nearing its conclusion. I believe his exact words were ‘the peaceful mountain’s peak is being cut off, snow and all.’ He always was a riddler. If you want me to find out who truly was behind the killing, I might as well start there.”

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

"As I said," Korero replied, "we need you to answer a few questions for us. To help with our investigation."

 

He and Reordin exchanged glances.

 

"Please don't hold back," he continued. "If anything comes to mind, share it. Ok?"

 

He gave the Matoran another small smile, to put him at ease and show that he no longer had anything to fear from this.

[Relapse]

IC(Ryiu Polzin)

Why was it that every time Ryiu visited Ko-Koro, it seemed to be snowing? To forest Akrainid like himself, snow was irritating and intrusive. Something that was cold, very small, completely useless, and incredibly, incredibly common had no place in sophisticated society. After all, if everyone is unique, like a snowflake, then uniqueness is forfeit and everyone is the same. And Ryiu liked to think he had a measure of uniqueness in him.

He'd recieved quite a few looks since he'd arrived- apparently many of them had never seen a live Akrainid. Ever since Kyju had tainted their name in his attempt to take Onu-Koro, he'd had more trouble in business than he ever expected he would.

But today was not the day for business. He'd forsaken his white suit for warmer cloakings. His staff and shield had been left in the Polzin home, traded for more discreet equipment. A poisoned dagger which he hoped he'd never have to use. A gauntlet with a hidden blade he had promised himself he wouldn't unsheath. It was all necessary, however, if he wanted to accomplish what he had come for.

It had taken three long months to track down Ishi to Ko-Koro. Three months without correspondence with his businesses. Three months without the comforts he usually enjoyed. For someone like Ryiu, this was not an easy ordeal, and finding his brother had been even harder. Had it not been for three months of searching, he might never had found him.

Through all the code names, backtracking, secrecy and sneaking around, the long lost Polzin brother had made himself surprisingly scarce. With any luck, Ryiu would be able to find him before he left the village. The best place to start was in the slums, of course, since Ishi had never been particularly prestigious in his practices, and so that was where he went first, asking around in hopes that his brother had been seen.

Edited February 3, 2014 by Douglas

[EmperorWhenua]

Ooc: I'm at work so I can only do the quick Jaa reply for now.

 

Ic: The scribe scrunched his eyebrows together. "Yes, as you said, you said you have questions -- and yes, of course I will answer to my fullest ability. Ummm do you guys have any... leads?" he said and glanced quickly from one toa to the other.

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

"We've got some ideas," Korero replied carefully, "but for now, we're collecting information."

 

He pulled up a stool and sat down, leaning forward with his hands clasped on Jaa's desk.

 

"Cast your mind back for me, Jaa," he said. "Did you notice anyone in court acting oddly in the last few days - weeks, even? Any strange behaviour, unexplained absences, anything at all?"

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "Uhhhh nope," Jaa said and shook his head. "I kept attendance records, too. Nope."

[They]

OOC: Apparently I jumped the gun on the healing Kiara... Post ret-conned. Please delete this post.

Edited February 4, 2014 by Kughii

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

"Are you sure?" Korero pressed. "You didn't notice anything remotely suspicious, not even any small things?"

 

The Toa of Air knew it was a long shot to expect to learn anything from this, but all the same, it surprised him that Jaa couldn't remember noticing anything odd. He'd have at least expected there to be some little niggling things, but nothing at all? That seemed odd in itself.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "Uhhhhh yup. Nope. Nothing out of place, honestly. If anything, the court was calmer than ever after the akiri summit, things had not been going more stable," Jaa explained. "... Something tells me this is less than helpful to you... sorry."

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

"Don't worry, it's not your fault," Korero reassured the Scribe. "You can't choose the facts, and the fact is that you didn't notice anything. That's fine. Anyway, next question: could you please give me your absolute honest-to-Mata-Nui opinions of Akiri Matoro, Vizier Ambages, and Captain Korzaa."

 

He lowered his voice.

 

"If you'd rather go somewhere else, to be sure nobody unwanted will hear, just say the word. I can have us there and back in a heartbeat."

[Aurora the cat]

IC: Kiara

 

I was outside a medical facility. The fool had dropped me here of all places. I could be captured, questioned, and removed from the scene. I should have never hired such a moron, I should have had the company murder him when we had the chance. I had to get a new identity fast. I could use the one that I was most know in the public by. I even knew myself by that name. Now what to do with my belongings.

 

I looked around, trying to think where to hid these items that could ruin my chance of survival. There next to was a bush. I stuck my hand into the thing, feeling for something in the center. Ahh yes. There was a gap. It was completely invisible. Still laying down, I checked to see if there was anyone looking, and then quickly ripped off my cloak, wrapped my zamor launcher, drone, and note book, and pushed it the invisible gap.

 

My leg scraped on the stairwell and I gave a tremendous yelp as the skin was scraped. Now all I needed was a story. Think, THINK. Oh yes, I was Kiara Welding. I was the president of the Ga-koro actor's guild, I had massive holding in all the fortune 500 companies. I was visiting friends in Ihu-koro, and I had people that could back that statement up. I got in a bar fight with an impact vision Skakdi who had attempted to pickpocket me. I then got dumped in a vat of boiling water. I could work out the rest of the story later.

 

OOC: all ends covered

[EmperorWhenua]

Ooc: Still can't do an Ambages post. I'm just way too exhausted, sorry.

 

IC (Korero)

 

"Don't worry, it's not your fault," Korero reassured the Scribe. "You can't choose the facts, and the fact is that you didn't notice anything. That's fine. Anyway, next question: could you please give me your absolute honest-to-Mata-Nui opinions of Akiri Matoro, Vizier Ambages, and Captain Korzaa."

 

He lowered his voice.

 

"If you'd rather go somewhere else, to be sure nobody unwanted will hear, just say the word. I can have us there and back in a heartbeat."

Ic: "No, I'm fine here," Jaa said easily. "Buuut, before I speak, I do have a request -- a favour. It's silly, I know, but... I'd like to be transported by your mask. I just want to experience that. Would you...?" he asked with pleading eyes. "Please?"

Edited February 5, 2014 by Daenerys Targaryen

[Geardirector]

OOC: Ferron, Rhea and Nero from Onu-Wahi

 

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

The drifts were blessed with a rare, short period of silence, but the storms had been hard at work here, and Kuhrin's trail had almost disappeared, only some barely discernible traces remained to be sought out and followed by the trained eyes of the trio that trudged through the snow, crunching it beneath heavy boots and the like.

 

Ferron was in the back following steadily behind Rhea, who in turn was following Nero. The bestial Le-Toa's tracking skills were unprecedented, and it seemed he managed to find a path where many others would've failed.

 

Ferron's mind was running on all cylinders, struggling to fit in past, present and future in his train of thought.

 

He certainly had come a long way, hadn't he? From lowly Fe-Matoran Mechanic from the rough end of Le-Wahi, to a weary man, beaten down by life, on a mission to the end.

 

He had loved, he had lost, and he had conquered, sacrificed and battled. It was a life that would've broken lesser men, but Ferron was anything but. He'd always been the one to stand defiantly against the challenges that came his way, and he had a feeling he would continue to be so for the rest of his days. It was his lot in life, he felt, to be the one others could cover behind, to be a shield for those who did not have the strength of character or body to stand such harshness as evil truly could be capable of.

 

He sighed, feeling his throat as sandpaper. He reached into his satchel, bringing out an extra hide flask he'd brought along containing the most life-giving of substances... water.

 

It splashed against his throat, revitalizing his tired gears and muscles, he breathed heavily, refreshed.

 

They would catch Kuhrin yet.

 

"How does it look?" he asked Rhea as he caught up to her.

[Shadowhawk]

IC: [ Rhea ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

Rhea shrugged noncommittally, drawing her traveler's cloak a bit tighter around her shoulders to ward off the penetrating chill of the mountain snowfields. The sky, at least, was clear, and the only wind was a slight gusting breeze that swirled frost against her boots, but she had a hard time looking on the bright side. She was a Toa of Plasma, of blazing heat and blinding energy, and every physical tangibility of this dead and arctic landscape opposed her to the utmost. In her heart, there was a kindred steak of coldness, aye, but in her body... no.

A thousand vile curses, on this ever-useless icebox of inhospitable atmospheric extremes. 'Tis no wonder Kopaka was said to be irritable, if this was his homeland.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose. Nero says we'll need to hunt shelter come nightfall; the storms, apparently, fall and/or strengthen with the darkness... but at least, if we're not moving, neither is Kuhrin, and he can't be too far ahead, now."

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

"There should probably be a cave or something of the like around," Ferron said, weighing in on their current dilemma, in the back of his mind noting Rhea's slight discomfort. It wasn't really surprising, given her element, and the rougish, hot-blooded manner in which she'd been carrying herself up until now. But she didn't complain, didn't falter, Ferron could tell she was a professional, and had the good sense to respect it.

 

He offered the flask to Rhea.

 

"There's enough to go around" he said simply.

[Shadowhawk]

IC: [ Rhea / Nero ] - Ko-Wahi / Drifts

Rhea had her own waterskin, of course, tucked safely away out of sight amidst her other supplies. Traveling without it would have been the height of folly, and, if nothing else, she was no fool. But she didn't mention it; if Ferron wanted to feel like he was helping her out, she didn't mind in the least.

She accepted the flask with a murmur of thanks, took a few careful mouthfuls, handed it back.

 

---

A few hundred yards ahead, Nero's hulking silhouette hazed momentarily into mottled whiteness as a sudden chill gust rose from nowhere in the crystal sky and lashed viciously at the snow. He paused, eyes narrowed against the sudden drop in temperature that the oncoming cold front drove before it, and drew breath sharply to test the wind.

Night was falling, and with it, the constant eddying storms that gave the Drifts their fearsome reputation. In minutes, no more than an hour at most, the trail would be lost, but more importantly, so would his group's every sense of direction... and without shelter, perhaps their very lives.

Turning, and without hesitation, he struck out due eastwards through the swiftly-gathering haze of blowing snow. He knew this place, and remembered, for when one lived as he did, remembrance was survival.

No more than a quarter of a mile away, he recalled, there were several ragged stone outcroppings, complete with a handful of slight overhangs and crevices that would break the fury of the impending arctic blast. Not a lot of cover, but it was by far the closest, and it would be enough.

Edited February 7, 2014 by Shadowhawk

[Geardirector]

IC: Ferron (Drifts)

 

Ferron grunted disarmingly in response to Rhea's thanks, putting the flask away as he looked over at Nero again... only to snap his head to the left to see the Le-Toa running off in great haste.

The whips of coldness lashed against his back, informing him of the problem.

 

"We need to find shelter; follow that Toa"

[Geardirector]

OOC: Just ignore this, wrong topic

Edited February 7, 2014 by Geardirector

[Hanako Herupa]

IC: (Braen)

 

The tall and lithe Vortixx wrapped his arms around the Toa of Stone, protectively, placing a soft kiss on her neck as he held her tightly.

 

"These things in life, they don't just magically go away unfortunately. Sometimes they don't even seem to fade, but the thing is we get stronger, and eventually we're strong enough to deal with them," Braen sighed. He held Lana, just a little tighter. Lana needed him, he wouldn't disappoint her, there were few people he cared about that much. Most other people, hadn't done much to endear themselves to him. Lana cared about him, and her loyalty to him was undying, people like her were so few in this world now. He was glad she was his, and the he was hers. "I had called our friends to meet us here, so far I haven't heard anything, so I'm hoping there making the trip as we speak, if not I assume we recieve correspondence soon."

[Snelly]

IC: Lana

 

Lana sighed, it was no secret that Lana had a natural distrust for most people, even of those who called themselves friends of Braen. However she could at the very least tolerate them.

 

The only person she was really open to was Braen, Everyone else she was very guarded against.

 

"Maybe the weather is delaying them." She said rather hopefully, she preferred to be with Braen alone, and have him all too herself.

Edited February 7, 2014 by Yoko Littner

[Hanako Herupa]

IC: (Braen)

 

Braen knew that Lana cared little for those he called friends and colleagues, it was something through that sigh and those expressions she always made. She did not trust them, and he did not blame her, for Braen had made friends that were peculiar sorts.

 

Braen smirked as Lana shifted against him, he could tell she wished to stay alone with him, and while he did appreciate the intent, if they not make it, it meant their plans would delay even longer, and that meant moments that could be seized now would likely be lost forever. That and there was still some groundwork they had yet laid. He hoped his one friend was doing well, they had not talked in a long time, He merely sighed and held his Lana tighter, things seemed slow now, but on Mata Nui, no peace truly lasted for any measure of time.

[Snelly]

IC: Lana

 

Lana didn't like thinking about Braen's friends for any real lenght of time, and standing there waiting for them to show up whenever didn't appeal to her.

 

"So..." Lana said suddenly, turning to look at Braen. "What shall we do while we wait for them?" She couldn't help the smile that began to grow on her face.

[EmperorWhenua]

“Of course, you asked me who was behind the killing and so far I’ve only told you who the murderer was.” [ishi] tapped a finger to his Kaukau thoughtfully and spun in a tight circle. “I believe this is where extrapolation until further evidence is found comes in. Our arachnid friend seemed to know Matoro’s life was nearing its conclusion. I believe his exact words were ‘the peaceful mountain’s peak is being cut off, snow and all.’ He always was a riddler. If you want me to find out who truly was behind the killing, I might as well start there.”

 

Ic:

 

The Hand paused and mentally nibbled on Ishi's deluge of information, matching the report's logic with his own in an attempt to verify it. It seemed to hold up, at least at face value. The truth of the matter was Ambages wasn't aware of what happened himself; Korzaa's morning reports hadn't gotten to him yet, his informants weren't getting to him, he hadn't done his own investigation and the Maru weren't going to help him personally, so Ishi's intel was as much as he had gotten so far.

 

"This body is in the morgue?" he asked.

 

"Yes!" Ishi piped up.

 

Ambages was relieved to hear that much. It indicated the corpse was at least held as evidence and reviewable; he'd have to dispatch someone to check it out. He may even do it himself if he were so inclined. And if the body existed then the evidence deduced from the body had to exist as well.

 

As he considered the words Ishi said he also looked the little informant over for clues about the person, too. Ishi was slight and wiry, ectoplasmic and highly nerdy with an apparent love for the intellectual that bordered on obsessive, as observed from his daring entry in search for company from someone rumoured to hold a candle to his own mind and mistaken belief that he would get a more hospitable reception than he did. In short, Ishi was curious. Irregardless of his smarts, it was his thirst for information and equal that seemed to be the most dangerous weakness exploitable. Ishi was too excited by the game, while in deep contrast Ambages played the game without enthusiasm, not distracted by possibilities of equals or excitements; he played the game out of need, not desire.

 

That addition Ishi had explained why Ishi had found himself in the employ of Caerus, a spymaster and weaver of secrets. Information was a currency both men appreciated, as was the cryptic and subtle, so it was only natural for the Hapaka and the Fikou to mingle. Nevertheless, Ishi's thrill of the game was to be his downfall.

 

He folded his arms and caressed his chin's imaginary beard as he addressed Ishi, looking more like a sage giving wisdom than a scheming politician. "You're a smart man, and I'd like to think I'm an intelligent man, too, so let's pretend and talk as two men of similar minds. You talk as though he and I are friends," Ambages said. "You couldn't be more mistaken unless you think the two of you are friends. He doesn't have friends and neither do I. It's a lonely life on the top, unforgiving even, but we exist.

 

"I'll employ you for this job, so go find out who was behind the assassination. Go and speak with that spider if you want but he may be as much a suspect as he is a library so treat him with such suspicion, too. I... I want to see this matter dealt with swiftly, and let me tell you why: Ko-Koro has lost a turaga and an akiri to conflict, perhaps because those leaders refused to bend to another power. Whatever, whoever that power is I will not bow to it, either, but I do want to see that this city remains independent which cannot be true for myself or the next akiri if the clouds still cloak the alpine summits as it has been. I want what is best for Ko-Koro and for Mata Nui, and that stability cannot exist so long as leaders cannot lead.

 

"I'd also like to make it clear that I don't actually need you, Ishi, but since I sit here and you stand there, and you want something I have --money-- and you have something I can use --research-- I'm willing to employ you. Just don't do anything to make me regret my decision in giving you this opportunity, though," he warned, his eyes turning grave despite his silky voice, and he shrugged slightly, "because I won't regret what I will do to Vera if you do."

Edited February 7, 2014 by Daenerys Targaryen