BZPRPG - Ga-Wahi
Posted Jul 02 2014 - 10:51 AM
The Toa of Iron took a fresh breath of air on the seaside restaurant. He wasn't a man of peace, but respite from fighting was welcome.
Kubrick's mind started to wander a little, before he pulled it back together.
The Fe-Toa decided to walk around the village. Maybe there was employment or pay to be had. Or just peace.
Which was unlikely in this place.
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Posted Jul 02 2014 - 10:54 AM
IC: [ Rhea ] - Ga-Wahi / Naho Bay
"No, not a problem." Rhea smiled. "You're hired. Backstab me, in any way, at any time, and I'll cut your liver out as painfully as possible and strangle you with it."
"And speaking of which..."
Half-turning, she glanced over at Mar. "What of Surina?"
IC: Mar (Naho Bay)
As a response, I fished out the silver ring from beneath my cloak and tossed the glimmer object to Rhea, confident she'd catch it.
"Tivanu was bluffing, there was never any agreement with Akiri Hahli, and he also made sure to sabotage any hope of Surina's escape."
"I did however secure us some armaments for our new ship"
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Posted Jul 02 2014 - 09:52 PM
The doctor briefly left, before returning with a small jar of what was presumably smelting salts, and held it so the smoke would be picked up by Arden's nostrils.
"Gah!" They cried out, causing the doctor to jump back.
"Hey! What the ###### is this!?" Aeolus cried out.
"Ma'am... My head feels a little... Funny," Arden said, holding her head.
Posted Jul 02 2014 - 10:21 PM
Arden held up both of her hands, and tried to form a sphere of water, with only steam coming out of his hands instead.
"It seems... Like your powers have fused," the doctor said, awe in his voice, "if that's the case... Your spirits may have... Merged when you entered her body."
Posted Jul 02 2014 - 10:34 PM
"When using an iden, your spirit leaves your body... If he tried to enter her body, their spirits might have merged," the doctor explained, "that's the only way she- they could generate steam- a power no toa has- is if their spirits merged. Since a toa's spirit contains their link to their elemental powers... It would make sense, wouldn't you think so captain?"
Posted Jul 02 2014 - 10:46 PM
"I'm sure there's some sortof important science-y thing you can learn from me," Arden started, having a similar face as the captain, "but is there a possible way to get him out of my head?"
"... Can you use your mask powers?" The doctor asked.
Posted Jul 03 2014 - 12:29 AM
Surina stared at Hahli with her usual resentful look. Frustration caused by captivity gave her expression a slightly new tint, making her appear more pathetic than threatening. Her anger remained strong, but there was nothing she could do.
"I was not brought here for a second assassination attempt", she replied quietly. She was attempting to be defiant, but her tone was that of a defeated foe. "I was brought here for the reward of bringing me to justice. I have not been here long enough to give any reason to believe I was going to attempt your assassination again."
IC Jarkale & Lai Lai
(Endless Ocean, The Inika):
"We have swords", Jarkale said with a nod. "They won't be as good quality as your old one, though."
Meanwhile, Tuarn was making good progress with regenerating the wood of the ship to fix the crack. "We will be able to leave again very soon", he said.
Edited by Toatapio Nuva, Jul 03 2014 - 12:32 AM.
Posted Jul 03 2014 - 02:03 AM
"That doesn't sound like a 'No, Hahli, I wasn't planning your assassination' to me," the Akiri noted with a rueful smile. "Just sounds like you gave yourself away too early to the wrong people. Maybe I know what that's like, too. Here's another question, and I want you to answer honestly: what would you do to me, if I were in your place and you were in mine?"
make them boys go loco
Posted Jul 03 2014 - 11:00 AM
"As long as I've got a sword at all, I think I'll be fine."
I glance over at the Toa of Plantlife, already nearly halfway done fixing the crack.
"I wonder if any of this ship will still be the original by the end of our voyage," I say Jarkale, "or if the whole thing will be made by Tuarn by then.
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Posted Jul 03 2014 - 11:01 AM
"You never expected this?" Arden asked, refocusing on the now, amusingly at the same moment that Treize had said that, "I never expected that some idiot Ta-Toa would wind up getting stuck in my body."
"Hey now that was an acci-"
"No. You, Shut. Up. Thanks to you, I get to have you stuck in my mind forever. So unless you can start seeing some sort of silver lining to this -which there isn't- just shut up and let me live my god-###### life!"
Posted Jul 03 2014 - 11:08 PM
"I can't really do anything else," admitted Treize, "but from now on, you're on leave. This is ... merde."
Sometimes, being a figure of authority was incredibly difficult. She wanted to do so much more for her subordinate, but there was little she could do to help.
"Take some time to try and get used to it, okay? Hopefully we'll find a way to fix this."
"Oh, and Aeolus? Don't be a obnoxious prick. I'm not letting anybody make my subordinates suffer."
Posted Jul 04 2014 - 01:08 PM
"If you are going to sin, sin against God, not the bureaucracy. God will forgive you but the bureaucracy won't."
- Hyman G. Rickover, The New York Times
They call me the Angler. Well, even I call myself the Angler. Names are meant for honest men, and I can tell you right here and now that I'm no honest man in any way, shape or form. Is a fisherman honest to the creatures that he catches? No, he lures them in with the promise of a meal, neglecting to inform them of the metal hook awaiting them at the banquet, the poison in the wine. It's the job of an angler to lie, and lie well. My subsistence was built on lies and deception, and though I wish that it had never happened, I can't say that I regret what I did back in the Lighthouse. Ask the crews of the Invincible or the Infernavika, and they'll probably call me a monster.
I suppose I am a monster, but, at the very least, I'm a pragmatic monster.
The men and women of the Lighthouse called me the Angler, first and foremost, because I was the first of us to begin fishing after our estrangement from civilization. There was a nice jut of broken masonry that protruded by the side of our home, whose entrance was a slim crevice just above water level; difficult for most beings to maneuver, but someone with my level of dexterity, I handled it just fine. We had all chipped in and cobbled together a tackle kit with a makeshift fishing rod, and day after day I sat out in the harsh sun and salty wind and waited for the fish to come to me.
They never did come. I have a theory that the release gases and contaminants that surfaced as Xa-Koro was sucked up by the sea may have led to the mass poisoning of the indigenous populations, because none of us ever saw head or tail of our little fishy friends. I grew impatient and my comrades grew suspicious; some concocted theories that I was greedily gobbling up all of my catch right there on the makeshift pier, which, given my equally anorexic physique as my fellow inmates, was utterly ridiculous. All of were hardened criminals, and thus paranoia was expected, but never never to the levels that I saw down in those stone basements; I watched as parents dashed their children's heads against the wall, forsaking them as talismans of doom; I listened to thugs and crooks accuse each other of poisoning the waters themselves, methods uncertain. Tempers flared at a rate proportional to hunger and population increase.
At a certain point, we all realized what we had to do to survive.
No one, no one, wanted to be first one to do it. Amidst the mercs and assassins and thugs and gangsters and murderers I was the only one with enough guts to take that first Matoran and tell him that we had a gift for him downstairs and lead him down and snap his neck and gut him and eat him. I looked at my fellow inmates, soon to be my subjects, and my gaze was unflinching as I chewed and chewed and chewed the flesh from that poor sod's bones. I saw in their eyes the disgust, the fear, the sudden epiphany that amongst them stood both their damnation and their salvation, and with blood caking my lips I revelled in it. I took the Matoran's mangled corpse (carcass was the word I used then), carried it up to the closest populated level of the Lighthouse, and I hurled it into the crowd of people, a challenge to duel that no one accepted. I stood as their leader, savage and serene, the Angler incarnate.
I spent that night on the pier; my tears were lost in the saltwater sea.
Now, looking out onto the piers of Ga-Koro, I found myself idly wondering if those same tears could still be found in the water.
I had been wondering a lot of things, to be honest; why I had been released from a life sentence of imprisonment in a Ga-Koronan gaol after only one month, what I was supposed to do now, and how I was supposed to get my necessary portion of protein without the flesh of Matoran and Lesterin and Vortixx, ad infinitum. The Marine who'd released me had been absolutely no help in the matter; he was an old war-Rahi of Lesterin, whose tone was almost as hard as his muscle:
"We're releasing you on a very important condition; if you ever cause trouble for this law force again, whether in the village proper or against one of our contingents, we can assure you that the full force of the judicial system can, and will, be brought down on you. Is that understood? Excellent."
After that, I'd been shoved out into the harsh seaside light, left to my own devices in a city that I'd never once stepped foot in as a free man. Needless to say, it was a fairly terrifying experience, but as a man versed in the art of surviving adversity, I managed to stay afloat, if you'll pardon the pun. I wandered the streets, my fingers nervously twitching at the collection of widgets at my belt, the only recompense that the Marines had seen fit to give me, and the only fortune I had left. My weapons, apparently, had been stolen by one of the pirates of the 'Vika before Ga-Koro had had a chance to claim them, leaving me defenceless upon my release. I was sorely tempted to buy a knife or a sword or something right off the bat, but the fear of being found with a weapon by some overzealous Marine made me stay my wallet.
I had managed to find my way to the docks of Ga-Koro, a long expanse of territory that had once been dedicated to the legendary Toa Arete, but had quickly been reverted to nothing more than an anonymous hunk of wood following their transformation into the infamous Toa Daedra. An old ship hand had been kind (or bored) enough to relate to me the story, but I'd fairly lost interest after that little tidbit, and had left her to her ramblings to go and find a bench. The sun was at its highest point in the sky, and the sea was shimmering like a green silk sheet. I had thought that after years of living on the Islets, I'd have gotten sick of seeing the ocean; but out here, clear of the dirt and debris of the a hundred years of human refuse and their garbage, the waters never seemed to stop sparkling, embedded with little gemstones of reflected light rather than the shining streaks of oil that were slathered onto the seas of Xa-Koro.
Sitting out there on the docks of Ga-Koro was when I recall that my wonderings really began; most importantly of all regarding the procurement of a decent meal. I'm not sure if any of you have attempted subsisting on rice and seaweed for one month straight, but take me at my word (and despite my warnings of my tendency against honesty, you can most assuredly trust me in this regard) when I say that it's about as pleasant as getting your head bashed in with a four pound hammer; there's a funny story in that, but I'll save it for another time. I also quite vividly remember a Matoran, clearly drunk, stumbling past me at the precise moment I had begun wondering about food, followed by a brief but poignant tilt of my head heavenwards and the mumbling of several words which really shouldn't be transcribed anywhere decent.
I decided that it would be best if I checked out the restaurant scene of the village.
It took me about two hours to finally settle on a choice of venue for my first meal in Ga-Koro that wasn't in prison. The sheer variety of culinary establishments nearly sent me in circles, and more than a few times I caught myself staring, both at the platters of steaming food set atop terrace tables, but their consumes as well. I had sworn myself onto the straight and narrow following my release from prison, not only to preserve my continued freedom, but also because I had realized how fervently my heart wished that my time in the Lighthouse had never happened; unfortunately, my tongue and stomach were now attuned to a certain style of culinary practice. It would certainly take time to adjust.
Eventually, I settled on a place known as the Great Takea, which seemed neither too conspicuous nor too run-down. There was a decent amount of clientele present, running a large gamut of species to the point that it took almost all of my focus to keep walking to the counter without salivating. I practically stubbed my toe reaching it, and soon I joined a female Toa and a male Lesterin. We were both of the earth element, so despite his frankly intimidating size I might've had a better chance trying to talk to him.
"Excuse me, sir," I said, tapping him on the shoulder while casually leaning on the countertop. "You wouldn't be able to make any recommendations in regards to the purchase of a meal here, would you?"
Following which I waited to see whether he would attempt to kill me or not.
OOC: That would be Wilmor he's addressing.
Edited by Emissary, Jul 04 2014 - 01:45 PM.
Posted Jul 04 2014 - 03:12 PM
IC: Wilmor (The Great Takea)
I turned my head to see another Onu-Lesterin with unappealing eyes beaming right at me. He was taller than me, but to compensate he was by far the thinnest bugger I've ever seen of my kind. For a moment or two I debated, for some unfathomable reason, whether or not to bring about his untimely demise right then and there, but I didn't entertain the notion for long.
"You picked a good place for a meal. These guys make food that is to die for. I'd recommend the seafood dish".
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Posted Jul 04 2014 - 05:09 PM
IC: [ Rhea ] - Ga-Wahi / Naho Bay
Tivanu's ring spun in the air, brilliant silver beneath the tropical sun.
A fast nimble blurring of the wrist and the forearm, tendons sliding with feral precision, and the cold metal slapped lightly against skin, twirled once, and settled into place on Rhea Heartsflame's left-hand middle finger.
For the briefest of instants, raw green flame exploded in the bounty hunter's eyes; milliseconds later, with the brutal speed of a warrior's self-control, the outward heat went cold and her voice was steady, soft... tight and ruthless.
"So he played the thief, then... so be it. I was a fool to trust him. A fool... but perhaps not so great a fool as he."
Her right-hand blade was out, a scything flash of steel, and the knuckles on the hilt were ivory white.
"You did well, Mar, but this spiny fork-tongued serpent owes me-- owes us-- yet a sum indeed. Where is he?"
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