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BZPRPG - Ko-Wahi

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IC: Celphrithia, Dravennica, and Shredder - Ko-Koro (Ramshackle House)

"It's quite simple, really; a team, soley comprised of individuals who are worthy enough to both survive a trip down to The Vault and receive the gift of Antidermis, created for the purpose of infiltrating their way through a village's defenses, causing as much chaos as possible within a certain window of time, and dispersing quickly without drawing much attention to themselves afterwards. Following that logic, each member would've already proved their worth to the others as a capable combatant, would have enough power themselves to cause an untold amount of damage in a very brief series of moments, and we'd lessen our chances of one of our own betraying us considerably, as it would be highly unlikely for an enemy agent to establish themselves within our ranks."

The Ko-Toa once again leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding towards her unconcious captive as she prepared to finish her proposal.

"With the money Legacy's been handing out recently, if the members of said team were to pitch in a portion of their earnings upon the completion of the other requirements, turning the cave system I found her squatting in into a suitable base of operations would be a relatively simple affair compared to building one from the ground up, and in the event that the city did fall out of our control at some point, we'd still have a relatively safe place to hang our heads and plan out our next moves. Outfitting ourselves shouldn't be much of an issue at that point either, as general munitions would be relatively cheap compared to the renovations, and the area is practically teeming with wildlife."


Epics: 

Hero Factory: Contagion

RPG Characters:

BZPRPG Characters

RPG History:

The Asylum, Bionifight Infinite, Year 60,000, Matoran und Panzer, HF RPG 2.0, Wasteland, Corpus Rahkshi, Skyrise

GM Résumé:

Matoran und Panzer (Formerly Appointed Co-GM), Corpus Rahkshi (Former Substitute Co-GM)

 

 

Feel free to shoot a PM my way if you're waiting for me to respond to something and I've been taking a while to do so.

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OOC: Pae from out-of-region

 

IC: Pae - Ko-Koro

 

Pae's stop was in Le-Koro. There he picked up a number of things. He got rid of his old cloak, and traded it for much warmer winter-gear. Padded, layered, yet light enough to move quickly in it, the coat should serve him well in the village of ice. Pae also decided to pick up a cane in Le. All the way here, he did not run as he usually did. He practiced limping, and using the wooden stick to keep him upright - and he did this almost the whole way. As for his face, he wore a bandanna, and snow goggles to protect him from the icy winds and curious eyes of the village's most dangerous. Pae tucked the bandanna further up his face, the hood hardly shielding his head from the wind.

 

While he spent his walking time practicing to limp, he spent his resting time doing something else. Pae had spent a lot of time thinking about what he was up against. He had been creating needles. He then filed them down to be thinner and thinner, until with the slightest pressure one could snap it in two. Pae had close to 40 needles by the time he reached Ko-Koro. They could come in handy - though he hoped they wouldn't ever need to be. Yet, this was dangerous territory.

Even the guards could be the reason he died today.

Pae queued up, waiting his turn to enter the village.


[]BZPRPG Profiles[[]FACTION[]
bzprpg.png.46404f7c5d8128afe9e665f06793e85b.png

 

 

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IC: Dayeth - House.

 

"But why are you telling me this?" She frowned, thinking the offer over, "I'm obviously not a skilled fighter," she raised her ash hand, the translucent stone-textured flesh glittering in the dim light, "and with this, I'm not exactly inconspicuous either." 


___________________________________________________

My Corpus Rahkshi Profiles

Six Kingdoms Profiles

Skyrise  Ascent

___________________________________________________

Legends Don't Last Forever

 

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IC:

 

"I think Kale was planning on taking a look inside. And I daresay he's more inconspicuous." The De-Toa leaned back in his seat, looking relaxed and at ease. "He'd be the one to talk to about that. I'm not comfortable with anyone going in."

 

IC: 

 

"Yeah, will need to talk with everyone before we do anything. If we could avoid going in there all together that would be great, but somehow I doubt that's going to happen." I took a sip of drink, relaxing a bit more to match Krayn. "If we do have to sneak in there...maybe both me and Kale should go in, probably to dangerous for just one to go alone. Speaking of Kale...we should probably go back for him, see if he found more than we did." 



My Bzprpg Profiles, Six Kingdoms: Rebirth Profiles

Skyra | Savina | Darien | Hakari | Mekana | Oceanna | Taleen | Mimira | Denerium | Talinka | Arisaka | Wraith | Xxeth | Silene

 

 

 

 

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OOC: Dorian from Po.

 

IC:

 

Ko-Wahi was no place for an ambush. There was too much fresh snowfall, building anew atop itself every few hours, to hide one's tracks unless a Ko-Toa was sweeping up behind you; even the slickest of mercenaries had to leave footprints when they walked, and with a group as large as Dorian's, that was true in elevenfold. Cipher and Rhea, for their parts, were using their elements to sweep up after them with plasma, but too much expenditure of their element left less room for body heat, so as they trudged further and further into the Drifts, away from where the flags that denoted civilization were the thickest, the group moved with less and less inhibition. Nowhere did that ring more true than for the young assassin at the ragtag column's head - jacketless thanks to an incident in Po-Koro, Dorian Shaddix was trudging through the snow in leathers and short sleeves. His arms were crossed across his chest, and his fingers were balled into fists, but that might as well have been from simmering frustration and anxiety than from cold. He was hardly shivering, and his azure eyes were fevered, narrow. Determined.

 

Too much so.

 

More that once, Cipher would report that very fact to his friend. For a long time, Dorian was silent, letting the frost cake along his strong jaw like a five o'clock shadow, before one time he finally turned his head halfway to the Su-Toa, smiled fiercely, and asked "Whassa matter, Ciph? Starting to shrivel up?"

 

The quip had helped to offset tensions for a while - until they reached the place where one Toa's tracks had split off into two, and clear evidence of a tail was being covered by the slush that always came with a new day in Ko-Wahi. He traveled during the night. That dumb son of a ######. Night movement had its perks, but you left it for the professionals - and as a certain duel in a thicket of Xa-Koran forest had taught him, even professionals couldn't always count on their night vision. Joske, though... the Toa of Fire couldn't snuff a handful of fruit flies without a heroic ###### sonnet. This far from Ihu-Koro, on a route familiar to anyone who knew of his last Temple trek...easy. Easy pickings. I could kill a whole Toa Team up here.

 

He should have waited in Ta. This was all basic stuff that an assassin could tell you, if you weren't high and ###### mighty. If Joske had just waited in Ta, this second party would have been bereft of any appendage that could make something resembling a footprint before Jos even knew they were followed. And he could do whatever he had to do in safety.

 

I'm not far out.

 

So the deeper they slogged into the drifts, the further and further removed Dor's jokes and smile became, until the assassin had turned himself off into something so quiet and insular that Utu Kotore's revenant might have even swooned a little.

 

He had only the vaguest idea of where the Temple of Peace was thanks to old stories, and as far as he knew nobody had come out this way since, so the flags still stopped at about where he expected them to. But the tracks kept going, and they were so far removed from any trace of civilization in the Wahi, good or ill, that he was willing to roll the dice on what the tracks were. Besides, the first set looked to be about the size of Joske's foot, and left light prints in the sure-footed, soft way that an athlete walked. It wasn't all that different from the feline steps of the world's best killers. But that was where the similarities ended - and the second set didn't seem to walk so much as they did glide. There were brief periods where the tracks would turn into skid marks, as though Joske's pursuer had decided to...glide along. Gotten lazy. Toyed with his food a little.

 

Dor's steps grew heavier and quicker, stalking towards his own prize.

 

Don't be dead. The prayer knelled louder, duller with the bass of a baby migraine, in the sides of his head. Don't be dead. We can still make this work if you're not already dead. 

 

The tracks were getting fresher; here Joske's footprints were getting heavier, too, like he was excited to discover something...or if he had noticed he was being tracked. Dor, always categorized, was now functioning in a space of mind that Tuara would no doubt try to snap him out of before he got too cozy in it, and watched the footsteps with the eyes of a killer. The footsteps were getting hurried, but remained largely even; there was no sign of zigzagging, taking a diverging path, or even attempting to throw a false trail. If Joske knew he was being followed, he was about as bright as a connoisseur of turpentine oil. No, the Joske he knew had picked up enough from years around Guards to shake a basic tail - especially one that was hardly trying to hide itself. 

 

Where had he left the rest of his team? In parallax behind him, Ciph was about the size of half a finger, and the rest were behind even him. He needed to slow down, take it easy, wait for the team. None of them had signed up to hit a temple and stop a fight, but he'd never hear the end of it if he went in raw on a suicide blitz - and lived. 

 

Again.

 

While someone else who was more important and ~well adjusted~ on the morality see-saw got themselves killed for being an idiot, and everyone called it gallantry.

 

A g a i n.

 

By the same people who thought that "G-God, Dor, why can't you be more like Joske? You shouldn't walk around in tight leather! You should take more seriously! You should stop making me want to give adultery a whirl! Why can't you be one of those assassins that doesn't kill people for money?" was not only valid criticism, but much-desired moral impetus.

 

ahem

 

A G A I N.

 

The sound of voices below snapped him out of his reverie. They were coming from two snowbanks over - and were punctuated by loud cracks of rock, grunts, and the familiar sound of crystal cutting air. I'm still in time.

 

Cipher was behind him. Rhea farther behind still. Nikarra was hustling to catch up; he could see the breath leaving her lungs in pretty white clouds. With backup, this whole scenario might be a cinch. Textbook, even.

 

I'm the best there ever was. Everyone knew it, didn't they? Even his friends, the ones who loathed his God-given talent for drawing bullets, stares, and dicks on the furniture. 

 

Idiot boy. The voice in his head was old, a deep grumble worn raw as hide by years of cigars and straight gin. You would really bet the life of someone you love on your own hype?

 

He was Dorian Shaddix. The name was practically a title at this point. He made the unwinnable a fight, and made fights fun. Never missed a contract in his life. That's why they kept him around.

 

The only reason they kept him around. 

 

...

 

...

 

...

 

I bit my lip and, using my Calix and keeping low, bounded over one snowdrift and uphill on another. My sniper rifle had crept into my hands somehow. Don't...really remember when. Maybe I already knew what I'd see when I reached the top of the snowbank, and just kinda sat on my heels to watch Echelon caress Joske's head like a melon at a farmer's market for...that old and noble tradition of '#####s and giggles.' I would have shot him then, and gladly, but the rifle was too high-powered and their backs were to me. Any bullet would have gone through Echelon and right into Jos on the snow. That's what I got to say on why I waited. All I'll ever have to say on why I waited.

 

...

 

...

 

...

 

Truth was, for a second, Dor thought maybe Joske deserved it. Until the glint of a sword, crystalline in structure, dark and beautiful against the low glow of horizon, cut right through his nerves.

 

...

 

...

 

...

 

no

 

CLAP

 

Joske let out a high noise of surprise - not quite pain, I knew, the sword had so fine a cut you hardly knew it was there until you started scooping your own blood in handfuls. Try as he might to disguise it, I knew Echelon was still unaccustomed to the sword, and the loud sound of the sniper rifle firing had diverted him from his thrust. Internally, I crowed with triumph, even as Echelon contemptuously deflected the bullet with a volley of elemental energy. By then, I was already mobile, racing diagonal and left down the snowbank and laying down suppressing fire with CLAPS, CLAPS, CLAPS! I don't think he realized who I was until I was within smirking distance.

 

For a second, there was surprise on his face - and real uneasiness. Then it all sank away into the same calm look I'd wanted to shatter for five years, and the Dark Toa laughed. The expression was strange on his new mask, and already I was regretting the decision to come down here alone. Even the Dorian Shaddix of years past would have taken the time to formulate a battle plan, perhaps even pull his poor, dying friend away from the thick of potential carnage; whatever it was he might have become before today could have fallen prey to the same mistakes of the heart that had left Joske Nimil bubbling blood on the ground. But Echelon was ignoring the rules again. Had gone too far. Had made the back-and-forth that had represented the island's greatest enemies going at each other again and again over the years into something ugly, something unfair, and shoved death in an assassin's face just as he was learning to grow into something more. Dorian should have - did - know better than to jump heedless into the fight, knowing what it could cost him.

 
But Dorian Shaddix's life, name, and relationships had been built on throwing his bad decisions at others, and right now Echelon's skinny neck was closer to my hands than redemption had ever come.
 
I moved into range of the sword.
 
Overconfidence? Maybe. But that one failed stroke had told me all I needed to know about Echelon - that he was a coward who wouldn't know a real fight if it crawled up his ###### and started shadowboxing his innards, and that the sword's innate talent buff to he who wielded it only went so far. With a Calix, and a knowledge of the movements the sword demanded of its wielder, Heuani's old parlor tricks were revealed as just that. And if I could beat Heuani, I could beat his nerdy little ######.
 
I ducked underneath the first blow and checked the second with my sniper rifle. Third blow was mine - a kick to the solar plexus, sending Echelon huffing back two steps. Fourth was a hard chop to the throat that sent him reeling on his left heel, opening up his leg for--
 
Then there was the familiar hurtling sensation hard and backwards, until my back screamed against the surface of a rock that cracked behind my momentum. Hissing back a sound of pain, I went to move my arm only to find that I was splayed across the entire rock by invisible chains. His magnetism...wasn't like this. He had changed. Not just in mask, but in element, in demeanor. Echelon was a coward, always had been a coward, he got what he wanted and ###### the ###### off. But then, Joske had probably thought the same thing. And I fell right into the same trap.
 
Well, ###### that. I wouldn't lay down and di--EUGH
 
Unbidden, I felt a shiver, and the distinct sensation of something alien burrowing into my mind, ripping memories out by wisps. Joske holding me while I held Grokk's heart, whispering that I needed to get off the street--
 
"Ech--"
 
--Joske was holding me in the Temple of Faith, head cradled against his chest while the Le-Koro sun rose, and I wondered how I'd explain this to Tua--
 
"--e--"
 
--I stepped into the Mahi pen and realized that he'd change my life--
 
"-LOOOOOOOOOON!"
 
Silence pealed through the air. Joske's eyes were bright with pain, but he was smiling. Echelon looked almost fascinated.
 
"Amazing," the Toa of Magnetism whispered. "You really think you've changed."
 
He raised the sword again.
 
...
 
...
 
...
 
Echelon had lived under the shadow of Makuta for a good portion of his life, and believed that with all his boons and powers, all those enemies vanquished, everyone else's years had been wasted. But Dorian Shaddix had grown up under a shadow, too - the oily shade of privilege, charm and confidence and good looks mated with a dissatisfaction of the world. It was inevitable that he would up, royally and often. That he would alienate people, drive them away, and whoever he was left with might never really be appreciated until their lives were all down to the wire. But he was working on it. Dorian Shaddix was learning about himself, every single day.
 
And even after five years, five years after he had first ordered a scrawny man named Arekule to ink him with a Mark, Echelon still had no idea.
 
Even as an invisible force ground at his ribs and legs, and the enemy crawled through his mind, Dorian Shaddix grit his teeth together and fought his way down with his right arm towards a holster on his hip, all the while feeling the bones in his hand and wrist scream out in dismay. 
 
Here's a thought, you skinny .
 
Echelon looked up, his killing blow disrupted yet again.
 
I'm going to use you to paint this whole
 
 
TEMPLE
 
His Protosteel index finger brushed against the trigger on his revolver and pulled, pulled, pulled, pulled, pulled. Five bullets closed the distance between Dor and Echelon, so fast that he couldn't put up a magnetic field in time to--
 
In the time it took to blink, the bullets had bounced away. Joske Nimil started to gurgle, and dark red began to pool over the spots on his armor where gold still reigned.
 
what the
 
"Good job, Dorian," Echelon drawled dryly, allowing himself a laugh even as the Toa of Iron squirmed on the rock and planted his feet. "I must say I've had my doubts over the years, given our track record together. But you made a believer out of me. You really are the best. Killer. Ali--"
 
"EEEEEEEEEERAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
 
Shaking with rage and screaming furiously, the Toa of Iron pushed with his feet and flung himself, whistling through the air like a sixth bullet, at Echelon with one fist reared back to turn his face to dust. The Toa of Magnetism flung him backwards again, harder into the rock, and when Dorian went to launch himself yet again a third bolt of Dark Magnetism sent him slamming so hard into the obelisk that dust tumbled and rained into his eyes like mana.
 
The sword raised--
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
--and Dor dropped to the ground, heaving for breath and quivering with fury, to see that Echelon had vanished. Only a glob of plasma, superheating the snowbank around it. Instantly, he knew what had happened and vaulted to his feet beside Cipher Compassrose as the directionally-challenged mercenary skidded to a halt. Echelon had turned tail and was gliding down the snowbank as though his feet were on skis.
 
...
 
...
 
...
 
It didn't even take a thought between us; raising my rifle in tandem with Ciph's hand, bullets and plasma flew at the Dark Toa. But what didn't bounce off a magnetic field landed harmlessly in the snows, and soon Echelon was a dot in the distance no smaller than my team had been. Snarling, I popped out the empty magazine and went to my back for another one.
 
"Dor."
 
I turned around and saw that Joske had rolled onto his side. His blood was congealing underneath him, and in the glint of sunrise you could see where my bullets had perforated him time and again. I landed on my knees and rolled him onto his back again, cradling his head. It occurred to me that he was maskless - that lanky necromancer - so I pulled off my Calix and pressed it to his face in hopes that he might get some strength back. It seemed to help, momentarily, but what gold coloration my mask gained thanks to his face was paling fast.
 
"Dor. Tell...I...tell..."
 
"Shut up." My voice was shaking with hate and rage, but not fear. There was no fear in Dor Shaddix. Death was death, and everyone died. Everyone... "There's medics in Ihu-Koro. We'll get you there and patch you up, and you can forget about these temples. Come on, these guys, they'll throw you a parade if you remember to eat a balanced breakfast. You're Joske Nimil. You're the hero. You can't leave me to babysit, you naive . Don't you leave me with these people. Joske, don't. Don't."
 
"...Dor?"
 
...
 
...
 
...
 
"Yeah, Jos?"
 
But when the Toa of Iron looked into the large blue eyes of the Toa of Fire, it was clear that Joske, as always, had never listened.
 
Dor Shaddix slumped backwards onto the ground, holding himself up with his hands in the snow. All his breath escaped him in a plume of white mist, and he bit his lip hard until he tasted heady, hot blood.
 
-Tyler
  • Upvote 10

whats up doc

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IC:

I had long continued to throw shot after increasingly wide shot after the necromancer's trailing figure, eventually giving up well after the point of diminishing returns. If nothing else, I felt the need to leave our friend an impression.

Little did I know, he'd already left one far greater upon our side.

I turned, finding my brother in arms barely holding himself up in the snow, a thin line of blood running down his maskless chin.

We were too late.

I laid two fingertips upon the wound in Nimil's stomach, a little towards the right. The part of me that liked hitting things made of meat and bone noted that it had to have cut the liver. Even with a blade that sharp, those last moments must have been pure agony.

That sadistic son of a should have stayed put just a half-second longer.

I heated the region, in effect cauterizing the wound. No good it'd do to save him, now that he was already gone, but if nothing else the snow wouldn't get any more red.

It felt like I should do what I could, no matter the paltry amount it was.

I looked deep into those piercing azure furnaces that had charmed Shaddix's way through so many situations before. 

Grief.

Despair.

Fury.

Hate.

No words left my mouth. I had none to ease this on him, if any even existed. I doubt they ever did or will.

Instead, I simply placed a hand on his shoulder, and solemnly let him breathe.

 

  • Upvote 3

helo frens

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IC: Mar (Drifts)

 

In my job, one of the first things you'll be told is to forget where you're from, what you once loved and held dear. You run into people who get pretty cross with you, and you want to make it clear that there's nothing you have that they can take from you. Your life is full of taking, you take lives, you take money, you take risks, and #### it all you're going to keep it.

 

Identity is powerful, and to threaten it is as easy as to threaten someone's home, so make sure you have no home, no place that ties you down.

 

While you're at it, let me know how carrying out that process drove you insane, because as far as I know it's impossible. The saying goes that "home is where the heart is", so make sure you tear that #### potential wound out before someone else does and-yeah. Good luck with that.

 

"Home" isn't a place, it's familiarity. It's people you recognize and habits you learn, it's patterns and customs that you stick to because it gives you comfort to have that stability...

 

...and the white, cold, unfeeling, merciless drifts of Ko-Wahi feel pretty familiar to me in the grand scheme of things, especially with my two-limbed friend stalking his native environment with ease a few steps behind.

 

It's all nonsense, perpetuated by people who desparately want to fulfill some sort of romanticized image of the fearless ###### with nothing to lose and a world to conquer, stepping out of obscurity to make their mark in history.

 

You're just you, at any given time, and nobody can take that away from you. You're both a jerk and a saint every day, and the only thing you can ask for is to remember your choices and stick with them, at least have the backbone to committ to something.

 

It's with that knowledge that rather than linger at the back and quietly watch the scene before us all with undue reverence, I walk down to them. I would say something, but words aren't needed, he just felt That Which Is Not Supposed To Happen, he gets it.

 

I just stand closer than you'd expect me to do, because who I am and what I portray are actually two different things.

  • Upvote 1

BZPRPG Profiles

 

Ferron-Nuparu-Mar-Zelvin-Tamachan-Wiremu-Farzan-Trava-Mako

 

 

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IC: Celphrithia, Dravennica, and Shredder - Ko-Koro (Ramshackle House)

Dravennica raised an eyebrow before responding.

"Partly because where you see a missing limb, I see the determination and potential required to reclaim it," the Toa of Ice continued. "And partly because you've already been down to The Vault, which speaks volumes of your true capabilities, despite your attempts to sell yourself short."

Glancing towards Shredder for a moment and seeing that the Kavinika had long since fallen asleep, she took another breath before returning to the conversation at hand.

"But I suppose the real reason I spoke to you first about this was because of a simple matter of trust and experience. You've been around much longer than I have, and thus have had much more time to mingle with our potential recruits, meaning that they would be more open to consider joining than if I, someone who has only been on the island for a few weeks at best, were to approach them with the matter alone. Like it or not, without someone such as yourself already on board, what I'm proposing would have a much lesser chance of occurring."


Epics: 

Hero Factory: Contagion

RPG Characters:

BZPRPG Characters

RPG History:

The Asylum, Bionifight Infinite, Year 60,000, Matoran und Panzer, HF RPG 2.0, Wasteland, Corpus Rahkshi, Skyrise

GM Résumé:

Matoran und Panzer (Formerly Appointed Co-GM), Corpus Rahkshi (Former Substitute Co-GM)

 

 

Feel free to shoot a PM my way if you're waiting for me to respond to something and I've been taking a while to do so.

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IC: Dayeth - House.

 

"This really sounds like something you ought to take up with those in the Sanctum," she finally said. She'd gotten this far on desperation more than anything else, but that spark was gone. Ko-Koro was filled with followers of Makuta, she had no reason to be desperate anymore. "There are plenty of others in this city far better suited to what you've got in mind than me." 


___________________________________________________

My Corpus Rahkshi Profiles

Six Kingdoms Profiles

Skyrise  Ascent

___________________________________________________

Legends Don't Last Forever

 

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IC: Celphrithia, Dravennica, and Shredder - Ko-Koro (Ramshackle House)

"And how many of these individuals that you speak of do you suppose are otherwise preoccupied with the defense of the city that we've all been taking sanctuary in during the past few days? Diverting their attention elsewhere, even for a moment, could prove to be disasterous to our efforts at maintaining our hold over Ko-Koro," Dravennica countered. "Either way, I do not expect a solid commitment from you right now, though I do hope that you'll take some time to reconsider your position; everyone has their part to play when it comes down to this war, after all, and being out there making a difference is much more preferable than remaining behind the safety of a few walls. On that point, your god and I seem to actually agree."

Returning to her feet and going off to search the house for a moment, the Ko-Toa soon returned with a reasonably-sized bucket before creating a block of ice inside, only to absorb enough of the cold around it in order to transform it into a liquid state.

"While I've enjoyed the topic of our previous discussion immensely, I think our captive over there has had quite enough time to rest," she said, offering the container of water for the Ta-Matoran to take. "Now, would you like to do the honors, or should I?"

Edited by Timageness

Epics: 

Hero Factory: Contagion

RPG Characters:

BZPRPG Characters

RPG History:

The Asylum, Bionifight Infinite, Year 60,000, Matoran und Panzer, HF RPG 2.0, Wasteland, Corpus Rahkshi, Skyrise

GM Résumé:

Matoran und Panzer (Formerly Appointed Co-GM), Corpus Rahkshi (Former Substitute Co-GM)

 

 

Feel free to shoot a PM my way if you're waiting for me to respond to something and I've been taking a while to do so.

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IC:

All things were quiet now. The quiet was death, for only Death himself could afford such stillness. For indeed Death was old, older than time and stronger than all worlds, and Death was never in a hurry. When he came, he was inevitable and sure. When he lingered, his presence was beyond depth and scope and all mysteries.

 
And he was never very anxious to leave.

New white snow, just a light feather-presence at first and then stronger as the seconds passed, filtered through the vastness about them as the storm moved in, easy and silent. Some of it settled softly on Rhea's shoulders, swirling restlessly against the heavy fabric of her cloak, sifting and hazing her outline into a shimmering indistinctness. Her hood was up, cast well forward, drowning her face in a pool of grey shadow.

Only her eyes moved and were sharp against the dimness and the falling snow, and they glowed behind her mask, very green and very wide but just as remote and apart as the Ko-Wahi night itself.

 
That door's locked, girl. Leave it alone. Look what it did to Dorian.

 

And remember... oh, gods. Remember what it's done to you.

 

Leave. It. Alone.

Edited by Shadowhawk

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IC: Zelvin (Drifts)

 

"And the strong become the weak, just like that"

 

Zelvin didn't want to cheapen or alter anyone's feelings about what they saw. In the end the most trustworthy guide to what they saw would be themselves, even if they didn't realize it yet. So she remained quiet, watched the one who had been struck where it hurt, where it weakened him, and waited. From here, he would either grow stronger, or just more emotionally unstable. Either way, he would become more dangerous than before, but in different ways. It was in her interest to know which one.


BZPRPG Profiles

 

Ferron-Nuparu-Mar-Zelvin-Tamachan-Wiremu-Farzan-Trava-Mako

 

 

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IC: Zero

 

The Skakdi was still, silent. Not a muscle twitched along her slim form. She regarded the Toa with a warm smile, an odd contrast to her chilly posture.

 

"I'm afraid we have none." she replied. "We usually simply refer to ourselves as watchers and protectors of the boarder. To name ourselves would be unnecessary."

 

She paused for a second, her crimson orbs alert and awake. Fear was not something she felt often, and today was no exception. She would just have to tighten things down a bit at Obsidian and notify the others of this apparent spy.

 

"Now, as for the tour, I'm afraid that's all for this wing. The other wing is exclusively made up of personal quarters, so I doubt you would enjoy exploring the vacant corridors. Therefore, that is all I have for the tour. I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to stay and socialize, but if not, safe travels to you both."

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IC (Kohra):

 

Purple eyes scanned the room, studying the faces of those present. Aside from Xxeth’s amusement, no one else spoke up. The Vortixx raised one eyebrow, an unspoken question to her companions if they were certain in their silence. The silence held. Not exactly what she had expected, but it was just as well. No objections then.

 

“Very well, Toa, we are all ears.”

 

The dark figure standing behind and slightly off to the side from Ambages nodded slightly, then knelt down to the floor, touching his hand to it. As his fingers approached the icy surface, Kohra at first thought her senses were fooling her, but a heartbeat later she knew that the small tendrils of darkness reaching out towards the ice were very much real.

 

Like leeches, or worms, they twirled, wrapped around each other, twisting intertwined before splitting again. Upon contact, they began to spread out. The previously white floor was tainted by blackness that flowed across the floor like a spill of oil and formed into a puddle of shadow, with no object visible to cast it. Then, the traveler removed his hand once more, standing up and taking a step back. Kohra could feel the tension in the room rising, but at the same time she had a gut feeling telling her to stay her hand, so she remained still.

 

The surface of the shadow began to ripple, and then from the center a shape began to emerge, at first undefined, before melding into something clearly bipedal, slightly taller than a Matoran, but not by much. More and more features became clearly visible. A hunched back, covered by cape of the darkest blue; thin hands, gnarled by age, held a walking stick that seemed to made of charred wood.

 

“A Turaga?” Kohra asked, looking from the new arrival to the dark Toa.

 

“Indeed.” the elder spoke up, the simple word sending Kohra on edge once more. His voice was sharp, to the point where everybody in the room could hear him, despite the low tone in which he spoke. At the same time, his appearance was, aside from the means of entrance, as Turaga-like as one would imagine, almost stereotypically so. He looked around the room, his eyes lingering on Ambages for a little longer than the others, before turning his full attention back to Kohra.

 

“Excuse the theatricality, but I could not cover such a long distance without my friend opening a path first. And I did not want to risk the long trek and publicity without you being willing to listen to our offer. I am sure you were expecting more than an old man.”

 

Kohra barely suppressed a sneer as she thought better than to mock the man who not only seemed to hold both the Toa’s and Ambages strings right now, but also had powers at his disposal that were unusual, to say the least.

 

“Looks…can be deceiving.” She finally said.

 

“Precisely.” The Turaga replied. “Which brings us to why we chose this approach to contact you.”

 

“And do you have a name?”

 

“Many.” The Turaga replied, his kind, fatherly expression severely at odds with his voice. “None of which would hold any meaning for you. But for our purposes, you may simply call me the Elder.”

 

Architects, Elders...for Kohra’s taste, the Matoran species had decidedly too much time to think of titular names.

 

“You are an ally to Ambages?”

 

“I am afraid,” he said, clearly not remorseful in the slightest, “that this is the first time dear Ambages and I are meeting face to face. He is, just like you, another potential customer of ours. My Toa here approached him months ago, embedding himself as a personal guard and conducting business with the good architect on my behalf until I was ready with my offer.”

 

“And what is it that you offer?” Ambages asked. A possible way out of the situation had presented itself in the form of a business deal. Something he could negotiate about, influence terms, improve his position and most importantly – ensure survival. It was the metaphorical golden ticket on a silver platter.

 

Kohra was about to shut the Matoran up, but she was going to ask the same thing anyway.

 

“I,” said the Turaga, “offer you the means to raise an army your enemies will not see coming, an army made up of the very population the Toa and guards who are in your way claim to protect.”

 

“How?”

 

“By using this.” The Turaga replied, reaching into his robe and producing a vial that swirled with more oily-black liquid, like the shadow he himself had come from. The sight sent another jolt down Kohra’s arm and she reflexively clenched her hand into a fist. The Elder chuckled.

 

“I see you might have an idea what this is.”

 

“Antidermis.” Kohra replied.

 

“More than that. It is a serum using antidermis as a base ingredient. I have altered it to suit a more specific purpose. How much power do you think is in a single Matoran?”

 

“Enough to be a nuisance. More so when they become Toa.”

 

“What if they could be both without the need to transform?”

 

“An intriguing possibility, as far-fetched as it sounds.” Ambages replied, obviously eager, though trying to keep up the appearance of someone not negotiating for their life. “It seems rather unlikey that you can bestow power upon someone of my statue without using the famed Toa-stones that give them their power. And what would you ask in return for this serum of yours anyway? I think our friends here would like a bit more information as well, I am sure.”

 

“Every Matoran has the potential to become a Toa, under the right circumstances…commonly referred to as destiny. And we all know it requires a Toa stone to unlock that potential. But I know that that is not true. Elemental powers manifest in Matoran even though they have no control over them. Those ear muffs are for more than just the cold, after all.” The Elder explained, probably with more patience than the architect deserved. “My research allowed me to unlock the power of the elements within Matoran without the need for a Toa stone. At the same time, my serum is highly addictive…ensuring that should you start distribution, your new foot soldiers will be quite loyal, whatever their opinion of you might be. What I require from you in return are the means to continue my research and to supply you with the needed quantity of the serum to bolster your forces. It has taken many years of experimentation to make this discovery and refine it…it takes a lot of Antidermis and subjects to achieve the right results. And you have access to both, which is why we approached you in the first place.”

The Turaga handed the vial to the dark Toa. Traveler picked it carefully from his master’s hand, but made no further move to pocket it.

 

“You do realize,” Ambages intersected. “that now that you have told us all this, there is nothing stopping your potential Vortixx ally over there from killing you, taking the vial and reverse engineering it, right?”

 

Kohra’s eyes narrowed. Mostly because Ambages had thought of the idea before her, further proving it was dangerous to leave him alive.

 

“Do not worry,” the Elder said assuringly. “I only brought the one vial for demonstration purposes. There is only enough to show the effects, not enough to reproduce it in quantity or quality – besides, once it has been used, it is gone. And I am the only one who knows how to make more. All I need are the aforementioned subjects.”

 

“I can supply them.” Ambages said.

 

“Doubtful.” The Turaga said. Ambages noticed the dark Toa that had stepped up beside him too late. The next instant a needle-prick pierced the side of his neck…and then the architect’s mind disappeared in a maelstrom of darkness.

 

The Turaga looked at him with fake pity. “I had hoped we could do business with each other. Alas, it seems the competition has driven you out of the market and all your resources are now theirs…including test-subjects. But you yourself will do just as well.”

 

Ambages didn’t hear anymore. His ears were nothing but ringing anymore and he doubled over, breathing heavily with wide eyes, shaking. He tried to steady himself, but instead started to stumble forward, forcing Kohra to sidestep as he fell past her. The Elder smiled deviously. “Observe.”

 

Now on all fours, the Matoran was gasping for air, until a scream started to build in his throat that echoed throughout the halls of the sanctum and nearly cracked the surrounding ice. Then his muscles tensed and in a spasm his hand shot out and a solid wave of sound blasted one of the shelves in sanctum apart. A cold dust cloud showered the bystanders in frozen shards. Then another convulsion came over the architect and he threw his hands up, sound shattering part of a pillar reaching up to the ceiling.

 

“What did you do to him?” Kohra demanded to know. The Elder shrugged. “He is a bit of a special case – unknowingly foraying into my field of research on his own these past few months. But now he is useless to both of us, so I gave him a concentrated dose – about ten times the needed amount. It will be a few days before it will destroy him, but I would not envy the time he has left. It would be merciful to put him out of his misery…and keep your furniture intact.”

 

Kohra looked from the Turaga back to the Matoran writhing on the floor. She did not reply. He turned his palms up. “Well then, my offer stands. My friend here,” – he nodded towards the Traveler – “will stay here until you make your choice.” Then he turned and started to walk away, as if heading towards the door, but after a few steps, his form broke up again into shadows and vanished.

 

When he was gone she turned back towards the architect. Part of her felt nothing for the Matoran but disgust. They were pathetic. She would have skinned him alive herself had the Elder not intervened. But now, watching the figure in complete and utter anguish on the floor in front of her, her mind, like someone stirring at the bottom of a sandy pool, made memories surface: The insides of a reddish brown stone cell, uncomfortably warm and dry to make her throat itch just remembering. Days passing so monotonously that they blurred together. And a pain so burning and intolerable she had wished for everything to end…

 

With a sudden long step, Kohra closed the distance between her and Ambages, then brought down her claws through his back. There was no scream, just a gasp. Then she closed her hand. Ambages twitched twice, then fell still.

 

She stood back up, looking the dark Toa in the eyes. “Tell your master we accept.”

 

OOC: Everything in this post is done with staff approval. The Turaga character is a NPC. Also yay for things happening ^^

  • Upvote 8

 

 

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IC:

 

I was crying by the time I was near enough to see what had happened. Y'know, if I ever settle down, I might just become an author; 'Crying In Different Environments And How That ###### Feels.' Le-Wahi you mightn't even notice at first; it's humid enough that you might even get away with it. Ta-Wahi it dries before it even reaches your cheekbones (and trust me guys, I got pretty high cheekbones, this is for real here).

Ko-Wahi it stings. It's bitter and cold and you get scared that every tear is gonna freeze on your skin, crystals of ice that give away your vulnerability to everyone around you, your weakest moment frozen in time so that no one can miss it.

######, I'm depressing.

 

Hi, I'm Nikarra, and I'll be your host for today.

 

 

I wasn't crying because of what had happened. A Toa was dead. Dor was in front of him, obviously broken by the experience. I'd heard the gunshots, the sound of the fight, Dor's shouting, and I'd tried to speed up.

Back in the day, I was fit as ######. I could run across ###### rooftops if I wanted to. I killed people -- bad people, but I still killed them, and I did it fairly well for a non-professional. In that moment, I forgot how much I had changed. I guess I expected that kind of adrenaline-powered rage that everyone says you're meant to get at times like this. But after months of barely moving, while I barely ate and my body and mind rotted away, even adrenaline couldn't carry me through. I thought I was getting better, but I guess it's easier to fall out of shape than to get back into it, y'know?

I was already lagging behind everyone else by the time Dor sped ahead of the rest of us, my heavy breaths clouding in front of my mouth. I wanted to cry. I wasn't even sure why. Like, yeah, I was exhausted, but it wasn't just that. It was something deeper.

Sometimes it feels like that feeling is always just below the surface. It's just that I only notice it when I'm tired.

 

I went from trying my best to catch up to trying my best not to collapse, and that's when the tears started flowing. Because even though I know I could contribute nothing to any fight where Dor could get that thoroughly thrashed, it felt like he needed me, and I was failing him. I wasn't good enough. I don't know what I've signed up for, but... I don't know if I'm good enough to be here. So many thoughts flashed through my mind -- is this how it's gonna be forever? Moving from good to evil, too ###### for the good teams, not ###### enough for the evil ones? Am I that ######?

Dor's friend is dead.

And I used to be so good. That's what really stings. I lost myself along the way to the point where I'm not even recognisable as the person I was before Dor. And, in a weird way, I don't want to be that person anymore -- I don't kill now. I have a perspective I never had before, I see people in new ways. I'm a better person. I don't want to be the girl I was before.

This is his moment.

I just, like, wouldn't mind having her body.

Stop thinking about yourself for once.

 

I was caught as I saw Dor sitting there, that other Toa's hand on his shoulder, in front of the body I could only assume used to be his friend. Still was his friend. For a second, it wasn't my tears that were frozen, but me -- should I step forward? Should I walk over to him? What do I say, what do I do?

Am I important enough to be that close to him right now?

 

 

 

 

Nikarra walked slowly over to Dorian, her breaths shaking, her tears far subtler than she thought they were. She stood slightly behind him, but in line with him, and the gesture was clear -- she wanted to be close to him, but she was also trying to give him space. When he got up, whenever that was, he would see her, maybe even turn around to her; at that point, the choice of whether or not he let her in was entirely his. A tear stung her cheek as she watched him on the ground, a tear shed for his sake rather than hers, as her introspection died away. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out, and she closed it, frowning as something akin to regret made its way across her face. She didn't know the Toa that lay dead on the ground, or even the living one whose hand was on Dorian's shoulder. She didn't know anyone in the team Dorian had assembled. She didn't know what they were trying to achieve. But she knew Dorian.

I'm so sorry, Dor.


LW1AfQI.png?1

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IC (Rorg)

 

That is it, then. It is done, and Ambages lies dead.

 

I do not know where this path will lead us; I cannot guess the nature of the Toa and Turaga that have made impossible things happen before my eyes. They are variables I do not (yet) understand. But I will hold on to these things and weigh them until I know what they are. Until then, I will trust that Kohra (and, by extension, Echelon) have some plan I do not grasp.

 

I am not here to understand, or even to think. I am here to follow. So I will.

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IC:

The... emotion, for lack of a better term... was strong in the frozen air, visceral and raw and almost tangible. The shock, the anguish, the chill breathtaking impact of it rippling off Dorian Shaddix and ricocheting in so many distinct ways and on so many unique levels across the psychological functions of so many separate individuals.


One individual, at least, felt essentially nothing. He knew how to pick and choose his troubles, and Dorian's grief meant just about as much to him as did the crushed flakes of snow beneath his boot heels.

And one more individual, at least, did feel... something... but then did not. There was no real sympathy-- what abused and chained and malnourished heart she had couldn't manage such a thing-- but it was indeed a heart and so for an instant pain and recognition of loss registered in her face, and there was a trace of muted emotion. Probably not so much in response to the death of a nameless young male she didn't recognize, or even in response to the searing shock of loss burning through another young male who wasn't nameless, but in response to memories-- her memories-- that the crimson in the snow and the silent torment made all too real once more.

 

For an instant, yes. There was that flicker in the deep green eyes, a pained echo in the soul. And it was very strong... oh yes. But her will for now was stronger still and the iron bars slid then and fastened and the shutters closed and then there was only a dead coolness. A padlocked emerald stillness.

 

Her gaze flicked over the tracks in the snow, lingered warily on the place where the Dark Toa had vanished in the night, moved on and swept the perimeter, first the immediate and then the more distant, of their surroundings.

 

Someone, after all, had to keep an eye out. These were dangerous times to be active in Ko-Wahi.

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IC: Xxeth - Sanctum -

 

Xxeth, like many others in the Daring family, had the innate skill of running his mouth. The situation with Ambages and this strange dark Toa and now Turaga as well had escalated. Where the do these people come from with their magic potions I mean come on! For once in his life Xxeth had no idea what to say, no comment to make as he watched Ambages die in the most pitiful...and yet strangely satisfying way. 

 

The mercenary simply stared at the corpse of a matoran who had once controlled an entire city, he found his end to be ironic. No, Xxeth had nothing to say this time, save for a single word. 

 

"Wow." 

  • Upvote 1


My Bzprpg Profiles, Six Kingdoms: Rebirth Profiles

Skyra | Savina | Darien | Hakari | Mekana | Oceanna | Taleen | Mimira | Denerium | Talinka | Arisaka | Wraith | Xxeth | Silene

 

 

 

 

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IC: Celphrithia, Dravennica, and Shredder - Ko-Koro (Ramshackle House)

Dravennica contemplated the Ta-Matoran's reasoning for a moment before displaying a simple shrug, eventually making her way over to the unconcious Onu-Toa before hurling the contents of the bucket straight into her prisoner's face.

"Time to wake up, wretch," she scowled, watching as her former captive began gasping for air, partially because of the cold and wet manner in which she was awakened and partially because of the fact that she ended up inhaling some of the water.

"You dare treat a High Priestess of The Order of the Tryna with such disrespect?!" Celphrithia finally spat after a few moments of coughing, her limbs struggling against the bonds of ice holding them back. "When I get free, I'll tear your eyes from their sockets and string them to hang from my ceiling!"

Rage flared within the Ko-Toa's eyes as she drew her blade, pressing the tip directly up against her throat as she used it to angle her chin upwards in an attempt to establish eye contact.

"Unless you wish for me to cut it out very Karzing painfully, I suggest that you hold your tongue and speak only when spoken to," growled the Toa of Ice.

"You broke into my my home, subjected me to my own blades, and you have taken me Makuta-knows-where since I passed out during our journey. No, if you were going to do anything of the sort, you wouldn't have taken me back alive at all."

"We've been over this already; falling through the roof of a natural cave system hardly counts as breaking in, you were the one who had one of your undead minions strike me over the head with a Karzing shovel before brandishing your implements to originally use on my body, and for your information, I have not only  taken you back to civilization, but I even had the decency to let someone treat your wounds upon our arrival. As far as your well-being is concerned, I'm seriously beginning to question my decision to take you alive, so don't you dare start testing me."


Epics: 

Hero Factory: Contagion

RPG Characters:

BZPRPG Characters

RPG History:

The Asylum, Bionifight Infinite, Year 60,000, Matoran und Panzer, HF RPG 2.0, Wasteland, Corpus Rahkshi, Skyrise

GM Résumé:

Matoran und Panzer (Formerly Appointed Co-GM), Corpus Rahkshi (Former Substitute Co-GM)

 

 

Feel free to shoot a PM my way if you're waiting for me to respond to something and I've been taking a while to do so.

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IC: Elysi

 

Watching somebody die in front of you ... even after so much, it was still hollow, still eerie, at how easily a life could be snuffed out. How easily the light of one's soul would disappear. Gone. Ashes in the wind. And it was, as far as Elysi Ril knew, utterly permanent. All the hopes and dreams, the ambitions, the hobbies and the loves and the hatred ... it just ... went away.

 

In an instant.

 

She breathed in the chilly air of Ko's fields. She breathed out.

 

In an instant, she had watched an ... employer's ... friend, one that they had been looking for, die.

 

To be honest, it didn't bother her.

 

She didn't know the man well. She was just tagging along.

 

But that didn't mean she couldn't pay her respects. For the sake of her employer, at least.

 

The Toa of Lightning spoke quietly, a simple prayer, barely different from those employed by her brothers, exited her mouth and onto the winds. A prayer for the dead. A prayer for peace in the afterlife. A prayer for ... something at least.

 

Maybe it would work. Maybe it wouldn't.

 

But now she had a job to do. A job to watch for danger. A job to see their mission to the end so she could earn her pay.

 

Let Dorian Shaddix grieve for his beloved friend.

 

Her role was elsewhere.

  • Upvote 1

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IC:

"Sending you two would be the worst option. You're the two that we can't let get caught." The De-Toa remarked, but he nodded at her last suggestion. The former Lieutenant stood casually and stretched. "Getting back's a good idea, though. Regroup."


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 (Kohra):

 

"Well, it was about time we had a new decoration for the village gate." the Vortixx said, then sighed lightly. Traveler glanced at her. She seemed gleeful enough about the Matoran's demise, but there was the faintest hint of an undertone he could not place.


 

 

Lillith.thumb.png.4ea877d95fad8df467748273ab43bc36.png

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IC (Kohra):

 

IC: Agrona - Ko-Koro - The Citadel

 

"He would make a better study than a decoration," I said, "If I can't reverse engineer the effects, I can still open him up on a table," I stepped next to Kohra, "If this... thing. Has properties at all similar to antidermis or is derived from it, I might be able to learn something."

 

I traced the roots protruding out of my wrist, before looking at my companions, chiefest being Kohra, "I'd rather have patients I understand than patients I don't. If it means saving your lives anyways."

Edited by Palm

[]BZPRPG Profiles[[]FACTION[]
bzprpg.png.46404f7c5d8128afe9e665f06793e85b.png

 

 

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IC:

 

A long time ago, a man hired me for a job. There was another man, a man of science, who had betrayed him by the very nature of his work, and this man lay weak and pitiful at his feet. There was no pay beyond the employer's company, no stipulations beyond using the employer's sword. It was a simple contract. Almost insulting, really. But it was a job.

 

And in all my life, two hundred and twenty years, forty five as a pro killer, never in my life did I ###### up a job. 

 

But Echelon was alive.

 

That...

 

I did the job in no time. Flick of my wrist, really, and the whole thing was done. I took his head clean off and punted it out of the air myself; I watched it bounce off a wall and roll harmlessly back to bump against the toe of a Kane-Ra leather boot. In all my life, never did I ###### up a job, and one look at the mark's face proved that I was still sterling.

 

But Echelon had looked at me when Joske died. And I didn't see a single stitch mark on that animal's neck. So somewhere along the line, I didn't do the job.

 

That...is un-######-acceptable.

 

I used to wonder why Heuani had asked me to kill Echelon. He had to have been watching us all for a long time before we woke. He had Echelon, and he had the flamberge. He didn't have to hand me either, let alone both. And yet here they were again, both in my hands for the second time. And Echelon had gotten away, with another casualty.

 

"He thinks I'm beat."

 

A brotherly hand stiffened on my shoulder.

 

Heuani asked me to kill Echelon for the same reason he once watched me fight my way out of an armed Guard prison. For a lot of years, I used to ask myself why now and again. Tonight, under a big, iridescent blue star that hadn't died just yet, I understood why. For the same reason that I got Aurelia moist from day one. For the same reason Bad Company, Mark Bearers, and all the Aggressors feared me. 

 

I wasn't a hero, like Joske dreamed of. I wasn't a demon, like Utu wanted. I wasn't even a battering ram, like the Four Peers prayed. A contract killer? Sure.

 

But I also work pro bono.

 

Heuani hired me to kill Echelon, and that contract, I would fulfill. But his operation...his lieutenants, his city, and even his icy prize...

 

"That mother######er is going to go back," I said softly, turning up to look at Cipher with a bloody lip, "and tell his people that he beat me."

 

They're all pro bono.

 

"Oh ###### them."

 

A low sigh.

 

"So that's your takeaway, huh?" Cipher didn't even sound surprised, or appalled, like anyone else. He was my last, best friend on the planet. He didn't have to ask what my takeaway was. The question mark was just a courtesy.

 

"Yeah." Three fingertips slid horizontally along my chin, and bloody steel curled up inside my palm, forming the loose fist you'd use to hold a knife. "###### yeah. That's my takeaway."

 

I ganked my Calix back from Joske and, after wiping it off in the snow, fanned it dry and put it back on my face. I hardly even felt the chill; there was blood rushing into my cheeks. ######, I was pumped.

 

######.

 

I missed this feeling.

 

"Game-plaaaaaaan~. Bring it on in, team. Time for a come to Nui meeting."

 

I turned around and plopped down backwards onto the center obelisk, before the prostate Toa of Fire, to face the assorted mercenaries.

 

-Tyler

Edited by Luke Schwarz
  • Upvote 5

whats up doc

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IC: Celphrithia, Dravennica, and Shredder - Ko-Koro (Ramshackle House)

While Dayeth's comment did manage to temporarily cease the duo's squabbling, she had also succeeded in directing both of their attentions towards her.

Dravennica stayed relatively silent apart from her breathing, though her twitching eyebrow and resulting facial expression practically screamed I still have a Kavinika at my command who knows of no less than forty-two different ways to bite you in the Karz-Hole, so the Ta-Matoran would've had to been practically blind in order to have missed her sudden lack of amusement.

Celphrithia, however, had other ideas.

"If you're so concerned about matters that don't involve you, Matoran, convince your... associate to release me, and in return, maybe I'll consider not relieving you of your insides and converting your corpse into a means of practicing ventriloquism."

Edited by Timageness

Epics: 

Hero Factory: Contagion

RPG Characters:

BZPRPG Characters

RPG History:

The Asylum, Bionifight Infinite, Year 60,000, Matoran und Panzer, HF RPG 2.0, Wasteland, Corpus Rahkshi, Skyrise

GM Résumé:

Matoran und Panzer (Formerly Appointed Co-GM), Corpus Rahkshi (Former Substitute Co-GM)

 

 

Feel free to shoot a PM my way if you're waiting for me to respond to something and I've been taking a while to do so.

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IC: Celphrithia, Dravennica, and Shredder - Ko-Koro (Ramshackle House)

"Considering the state you found me in after making my way back to the village, I'd say that was sort of apparent," the Ko-Toa replied, sheathing her weapon before producing a rather ornate Tryna and motioning towards the ceremonial staff that she had stashed just inside the doorway upon entering the abode. "Thankfully, during our time together in the caves, I learned that the items I previously had the foresight to remove from her person also provided me with a certain amount of... leverage when it comes to getting something I want out of her."

"You are not worthy of even touching - "

"Shut your Karzing mouth, or I'm going to grind your Kanohi to dust with my foot and have your precious weapon melted down and reforged into roofing tiles."

The Onu-Toa quickly fell silent, not even daring to finish her previous sentence.

"Much better," Dravennica noted before deciding to flesh out her threat a bit more. "You see, our new "friend" Celphrithia here used to belong to a cult of Makuta-worshippers back on her home island, one that not only dabbled a bit in necromancy, but also had a very... unique way of honoring their dead; tradition dictated that only the bodies of their foes were suitable candidates for reanimation, and that the corpses of actual cult members were to actually be forged into weapons so that they could aid the next generation in their endeavors. According to her, a group of Mata Nui devotees infiltrated their temple one night and started slaughtering everyone inside, leaving every man, woman, and child alike to fall to their blades before sunrise the following morning. She herself was only able to escape the carnage by sheer luck alone, simply because the attacker who drove a sword through her back before proceeding to cut her throat didn't actually care to stick around long enough in order to see whether or not she had bled out from her wounds. Two abdominal scars and one nearly non-existent voice later, and she eventually ended up here after being forced to leave everything she ever knew behind."

The Toa of Earth's eyes held no noticeable amounts of sorrow as her story was repeated to the Matoran, but plenty of hatred for her captor as she stared at the mask in her hand, her only comfort coming from the thought of forcefully depriving her of her fingers one by one.

"So in other words, even though the designs on this Kanohi are supposed to symbolise the highest rank one could ever hope to achieve within the cult, she's only allowed to wear it because she's the last remaining member from a long-forgotten sect of your religion," she began to conclude. "And as for her weapon itself, it's more or less forged from the remains of her family's corpses, which makes it pretty understandable why she wouldn't want anything bad happening to it."

Edited by Timageness

Epics: 

Hero Factory: Contagion

RPG Characters:

BZPRPG Characters

RPG History:

The Asylum, Bionifight Infinite, Year 60,000, Matoran und Panzer, HF RPG 2.0, Wasteland, Corpus Rahkshi, Skyrise

GM Résumé:

Matoran und Panzer (Formerly Appointed Co-GM), Corpus Rahkshi (Former Substitute Co-GM)

 

 

Feel free to shoot a PM my way if you're waiting for me to respond to something and I've been taking a while to do so.

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"Didn't think anyone else was coming this way, ma'am."

 

The west winds were biting and fierce; glad I had found a new coat in Onu. White as the snowfields of the Drifts, white enough that I could walk out into the blizzard and no one would ever find me. The rucksack slung over my shoulder held my rifle, supplies, snowshoes that had gotten me this far but were otherwise unnecessary. Red tea-shades over my eyes (an impulse buy, most assuredly, but I can't deny that they served to protect from snow-blindness) hid leaf-green eyes, white gloves hid a hand that was metal rather than flesh, a smirk hid my usual dour expression.

 

"Now who might you be, little lady?"

 

-Void

 

IC (Jin)

 

I stiffened almost imperceptibly at the voice, but kept my face kind and my hands empty, and turned, feeling my coat catch at the wind. It was made of leather the colour of wet sand, and covered in scuffs and scrapes. I'd picked it up off a grizzled trader in Ga-Wahi, who looked happy to be rid of the thing, and rightfully so, if I'm being honest. It was old, threadbare, and musty.

 

I smiled gracefully, showing teeth but not much else, and looked him over before returning my eyes to his (or whatever was behind those glasses). 

 

"Just a traveller," I simpered. "Looking to spend the night somewhere warm."

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IC: Elysi

 

"You're a funny guy, Shaddix."

 

That was one of the quickest recoveries from what would usually be a pretty traumatic incident.

 

Then again, it wasn't thanks to nothing that the man before her was so renowned amongst her line of work.

 

Real pro here.

 

"Surgical hit on Echelon only? Echelon and friends? Everyone we meet? Quick and stealthy or et cetera? Mass destruction? What type of job you looking for?"

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IC: Celphrithia, Dravennica, and Shredder - Ko-Koro (Ramshackle House)

"Oh, I know exactly what I want," Dravennica said, placing the Tryna down upon a nearby table. "And if she has an ounce of intellect still left in that brain of hers, she'll give it to me if she knows what's good for her."

"I already told you," Celphrithia rasped. "I have nothing of value."

"And that is where we disagree. You see, I'm not usually one to spare the lives of those who do me wrong, and the mere thought of it disgusts me to my core, so the fact that I'm even considering the notion should prove otherwise. I saw the fuses sticking out from your little pets' torsos, and while I am still trying to figure out how a hermit of all people was able to get her hands on Strallix Charges, I realised that killing you without at least giving you a chance to properly apply those destructive tendencies of yours probably wasn't the smartest option available at the time. So now you have a bit of a choice to make."

Crouching down to her level in order to look her straight in the eyes, she took a moment to furrow her brow in an attempt to address the seriousness of the situation at hand.

"Option One involves you doing no less than pledging your complete and utter loyalty to my cause. We head off to The Vault, you obtain yourself a new ability courtesy of the Antidermis left behind by your god while getting to take vengeance upon every worshipper of Mata Nui you see, and if I find your services acceptable, then maybe I'll provide you with the means of resurrecting that little cult of yours sometime in the future."

"And what's Option Two?"

"Option Two involves your refusal of my oh-so-generous offer, and by doing that, you end up ticking me off even more. I drive my sword into your chest cavity much more thoroughly than you're accustomed to, the pikes on the outer walls receive a new head to display, that mask you're so fond of ends up in a bargain bin inside of some peddler's cart, and I personally hang onto your staff, soley for the purpose of using it to scratch my back."

The Onu-Toa defiantly stared back at her captor for a few more moments, before closing her eyes, lowering her head in shame, and responding with a short, almost imperceivable nod.

"So glad we could finally come to an understanding."


Epics: 

Hero Factory: Contagion

RPG Characters:

BZPRPG Characters

RPG History:

The Asylum, Bionifight Infinite, Year 60,000, Matoran und Panzer, HF RPG 2.0, Wasteland, Corpus Rahkshi, Skyrise

GM Résumé:

Matoran und Panzer (Formerly Appointed Co-GM), Corpus Rahkshi (Former Substitute Co-GM)

 

 

Feel free to shoot a PM my way if you're waiting for me to respond to something and I've been taking a while to do so.

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IC: Dayeth - House.

 

"Not meaning to burst your bubble here," Dayeth piped up, "but this chick looks like she'll try to kill her first chance she gets. You really want to let her go down to the Vault and become more powerful?" 


___________________________________________________

My Corpus Rahkshi Profiles

Six Kingdoms Profiles

Skyrise  Ascent

___________________________________________________

Legends Don't Last Forever

 

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IC:

Rhea's eyes slid warily around and fastened on Dorian Shaddix.

She hadn't quite formed a complete opinion about what she thought she was hearing, but until she did she was definitely listening. If only to ascertain the scope of the young assassin's obvious insanity for future reference.

Or just perhaps, as much as the thought discomfited her, the scope of his genius. He was intelligent, after all... there was always the possibility...

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IC: Agrona - Ko-Koro - The Citadel

 

 

IC (Kohra): 

 

"Good point." The Vortixx said. She wasn't entirely happy about the realization that she had let her emotions get the better of her. Meanwhile, Agrona had thought ahead. 

 

"Do with the corpse what you will. It's not like he will have need of it anytime soon."

 

 

-----

 

IC (Agni): 

 

The other Toa of fire stepped up next to Merror, looking in the direction of the waving newcomer.

 

"Traveler...or more trouble?" he asked his older companion. 


 

 

Lillith.thumb.png.4ea877d95fad8df467748273ab43bc36.png

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IC (Merror)

 

"Hard to say," Merror replied, never taking his eyes off the distant being. "Seems friendly, waving so as not to suggest hostility. Then again, that could be a trap. And I've never seen anyone walk side-by-side with an ice bear."


sig_panel_bzprpg.pngsig_panel_profiles.pngsig_panel_flickr.pngsig_panel_steam.pngsig_panel_n7.png


 

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IC:

 

"Sending you two would be the worst option. You're the two that we can't let get caught." The De-Toa remarked, but he nodded at her last suggestion. The former Lieutenant stood casually and stretched. "Getting back's a good idea, though. Regroup."

 

IC:

 

"I suppose you're right...hopefully we won't have to send anyone." I stood up in sync with Krayn as we began to head out of the tavern and back out into the streets. We hadn't even been in Ko-koro a full day yet and I was already getting sick of being surrounded by criminals and other unsavory characters. I wasn't sure how I'd feel if I had to spend an entire week there, or longer. It would probably drive me insane.

 

Regardless, I would stay as long as it took to rescue the hostages. Echelon wasn't going to win, no matter how good the odds ended up in his favor.We'd shove those odds in his face and make him eat it. 

 

With those pleasant thoughts I marched back towards the Sanctum with Krayn, not stopping till we found Four and Kale. Four was standing watch while Kale was in mediation, he seemed to be incredibly focused...was that snow on his shoulders? How long had he been at it?

 

"How long has he been at it?" I asked Four as I approached. I spoke quietly, I didn't want to disturb Kale while he was so focused. 

Edited by Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon


My Bzprpg Profiles, Six Kingdoms: Rebirth Profiles

Skyra | Savina | Darien | Hakari | Mekana | Oceanna | Taleen | Mimira | Denerium | Talinka | Arisaka | Wraith | Xxeth | Silene

 

 

 

 

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