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BZPRPG - Po-Wahi


Nuju Metru

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IC

 

"Trust me, if I killed you today, it would be another name crossed off someone's list of people they'd like to see dead. And if you killed me? Well... There isn't enough pen ink in the world that could cross so many lists."

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IC: Tyemek

 

He chuckled. "Exactly how many heads do you think I own? Has this dehydration got to you?" He held up his hand. "How many fingers do you see?"

 

He felt his throat go dry. Now to mention it, this dehydration was getting to him, too. "Hey. Need a travelling buddy to that water hole of yours?"

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IC:

 

The Toa of Fire couldn't help but crack a smile at Voulge. He chuckled in the same soft baritone he used to petrify his victims, slowly running a palm across his head as his foul mood slipped away. Voulge could almost cheer him up quicker than a warm glass of blood could on a chilly night.

 

As the anger faded, his elemental energy transformed from a steady trickle into a powerful current that flowed through his body and tickled his limbs with fresh power. Vail's shoulders rolled back, and his chest expanded slightly as he adjusted his posture.

 

"Well if Scuttles insists, then who am I to doubt." he said, grinning. He motioned toward the unconscious Vortixx with a nod of his head.

 

"I think my elemental energy has replenished itself enough for me to burn this building to the ground. If you wouldn't mind dragging our friend, whatever his name is, out of here, I'll get started right away. As far as covering our tracks, I'll make sure the bodies get a little extra heat so they are presumed to have died in the fire."

 

He tapped his chin rhythmically.

 

"Oh yeah."

 

Vail purposefully pushed a shelf over onto Jang's corpse so that it'd appear that the Skakdi had been crushed while trying to escape.

 

"Whoops." the Ta-Toa stated jokingly as he wiped spattered blood off of his cheek.

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IC: Jokaro (Po-Koro)

 

Now a safe distance away from the gates, Jokaro once again began to wander the dusty streets of the Koro. 

 

He glanced left and right. His posters occasionally adorned a wall or a hut, gently flapping in the breeze. He looked down at his vial of adhesive, now empty, with merely a gloss of honey and a few grains of sand sitting within the empty tube. He wasn't about to waste more of his paper and ink on a venture that clearly failed to motivate those busy or otherwise inebriated within the village. There were more pertinent matters to attend to.

 

But first, more honey.

 

And perhaps a drink.

 

He opened his pack and shook out a few widgets. They'd have to do. If there were one place he'd been told you could really haggle, it was Po-Koro.

 

* * *

 

With a new vial of honey and missing a couple widgets, Jokaro departed the general goods hut and once again began to traverse the busy streets. Time to have that drink.

 

A few minutes of searching brought the displaced Po-Matoran to half-tavern, half-diner hybrid. It would do.

 

Jokaro entered the large, albeit dark, hut, barely attracting a glance. That was to be expected - in this place, anyone could walk through the door; Skakdi, Vortixx, it didn't matter. A Po-Matoran with some strange tools and junk on his belt was tame compared to the other occupants. Jokaro strode up to the bar, where the Po-Turaga barkeep was wiping the counter down. He looked up as Jokaro approached. 

 

"Your strongest stuff, please," Jokaro said, pushing the measly remainder of his widgets across the counter.

 

The barkeep wordlessly accepted them and brought out a dusty bottle of clear liquid and a single glass. Jokaro took them and found an empty table, pouring himself a glass of whatever he had just purchased and painfully downing it. 

 

Whatever it was, it burned his throat. Made it hard to breathe...

 

Huh.

 

Hard to breathe. 

 

Jokaro quietly coughed.

 

But it wasn't potent enough.

 

Leaving the bottle and glass on the table, Jokaro got up and made his way back to the bar, where the 'Keep was still wiping the counter. The Turaga looked up again. 

 

"What kind of hot peppers do you have?" The Matoran asked.

 

The barkeep's expression lit up and he began to chuckle. "Well," he began, his voice old and hoarse, "we've got all kinds. Hottest we have is the Mangai."

 

"How hot is it?"

 

The barkeep chuckled again, louder this time. "Pretty ###### hot." He paused, in thought for a moment. "Say, you look like you might be able to handle one of 'em. Why don't we say... I'll give ya fifty widgets if ya can keep it down, hm?"

 

Jokaro looked over his shoulder for a moment, considering. "Has anyone ever...?"

 

The barkeep laughed again, shaking his head.

 

Jokaro paused again before extending his hand out to the barkeep, who accepted it and shook.

 

"But just a moment," Jokaro interrupted. "I need to... convince myself first." He nodded his head back at the table, his bottle still there.

 

"Take all the time you want," the barkeep said, grinning and walking into the kitchen behind the bar, presumably to go fetch the 'Mangai'.

 

Jokaro turned and walked back towards his table. He needed those fifty widgets. As much as he had faith in himself, he knew it wouldn't do any harm to... give himself an advantage. He carefully slipped the vial of honey from his belt and poured it into his empty glass, before pretending to pour some of the alcohol from the bottle. He raised the glass, back to the bartender and poured all the honey into his mouth without swallowing. He had to coat his tongue to dampen the effects of the pepper. Satisfied with his 'handiwork,' Jokaro proceeded back to the bar, where the 'Keep was waiting with a small, fiery-red pepper clutched in-between his fingers. The 'Keep was grinning.

 

Jokaro, mouth full of honey, accepted the pepper from the exuberant barkeep.

 

"One bite, all at once," the 'Keep reminded him. Jokaro nodded.

 

Jokaro raised the pepper to his mouth and took the bite.

 

His eyes widened as he began to chew.

 

Mata Nui, he could feel that through the honey.

 

He raised his hand to his mouth, which he struggled to keep closed as he coughed slightly and his eyes teared up. The barkeep was roaring with laughter. Jokaro stopped chewing and prolonging his pain and swallowed, pepper, honey and all.

 

He hoped his stomach would hold out.

 

Joakro threw up his hands and declared, "Done."

 

The barkeep let out a chuckle and said, "Now just you wait, I'll go get ya your fifty widgets, and if you've not made a mess of my floor by the time I get back, you can have them." He disappeared into the kitchen again.

 

Jokaro took the time to make a mental list of what he would need.

 

Mortar and pestle, stirring stick, that bottle of whatever, more peppers, scrap metal and wood, wax candle, and...

 

...and a heatstone.

 

The barkeep came back, hefting a noisy burlap sack, which he placed on the counter.

 

"Ya didn't just...?" he asked.

 

"Nope."

 

The barkeep was bewildered. He looked over the counter.

 

"Well, well, that's a first." He pushed the sack across the counter. "I guess there are yers, then."

 

Jokaro opened the sack, gazing upon the pile of widgets inside.

 

"Now, then, you'll be getting these back. I need a few things..."

Edited by Perpetual Darkness
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IC: Tyemek

 

"Look!" he said. "I may not be the perfect example of a saint, but I cant watch a living being get hurt for no good cause" 

Tyemek winced and looked away on to the setting sun as he remember the child.  No. It had to be done. It had to.

He turned his head to face Ngaru again. "If you set out now, you'll freeze to death. This desert drops well below 0 Cs at night. Tomorrow, we set out for the oasis and do what ever it is you need to do. But tonight, you're coming with me and getting a warm shot of whiskey down your throat. Sound like a plan?"

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IC Zoban

 

He looked at the setting sun... This Toa had wasted way too much precious time already. But yes, it wouldn't be wise traveling through the open desert alone, he wasn't going to admit it though.

 

"Okay, fine I'll come with you but I'll skip on the wiskey, Ok?"

I'm back!

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IC: Tyemek

 

"Ill tell you it if you let me buy you a drink!" He chuckled. "Thats how my girlfriend learned my name too!".

 

He stopped dead in his tracks and his eye said only a phrase of pure and utter sorrow.

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IC: Zoban:

 

Of course, the Toa was joking around again, it was just as if he was accompanying a child.

 

The Toa suddenly stopped, there was something wrong.

Grabbing his sword, he wispered:

 

"Psst, whats wrong?"

I'm back!

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IC: Tyemek

 

It was a dark night. When the battle hit. Everyone knew it was coming but no one knew it would be so soon. There were dead bodies sprawled over the ground like a work of art. Thats when I first saw him. The one they called "The Artist".  And all around him was his canvas of severed limbs and broken bodies. He looked at me and then he took the sword to her throat. He just looked at me. Not a word spoken as if in fear the deathly silence would be broken. A spell that sat on the brink of time, like a glass of water not quite on the edge of table, and just one little knock... or a push or a... Slice. I cant remember if she screamed, but if she did  I know mine would have drowned out hers an infinity an more. And then thats when the artist left me his brush... so that I could continue his masterpiece.

 

Tyemek awoke from a trace. He forced a smile. "Lets go!"

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IC: Jokaro (Po-Koro)

More than half of his newly-acquired widgets gone, Jokaro sat at a desk in a back room of the diner, past the kitchen. He'd also paid the barkeep to let him use said room to "build something." The barkeep didn't ask and gladly accepted his widgets back. 

 

Using his knife, Jokaro cut open the Mangai peppers he had purchased and scraped the seeds out into the mortar. The seeds were plentiful in each pepper, so about ten of the Mangai peppers gave Jokaro a decent amount of material to work with. Setting down the knife and picking up the pestle, Jokaro ground the pepper seeds down into fine granules. It wasn't quite powder, but it was close enough. Uncorking the bottle of what he had learned was called Jaga-Venom, Jokaro poured a(n un)healthy amount into the mortar, now using the stirring stick to mis the two components together. 

Over the course of the next hour, Jokaro added more ground seeds or more Jaga-Venom, until he got the consistency he wanted - a thick, brown-red sludge that smelled as bad as it looked. Vaporized, it would make an excellent tool for incapacitation. 

Or so he hoped.

He set the mortar aside and removed some paper and his ink pencil from his bag. Next, Jokaro made a few preliminary sketches of the device he'd use for the delivery of his tear-gas. After a few crumpled sheets and several iterations, Jokaro sketched up a device he thought would work nicely.

He laid out everything he would need - cork, tin can, small wood handle, wax candle, vial of lightstone shards, scrap metal tubes, rings, solid pieces and rods, nuts, washers and bolts, metal wire.

 

His tools - chisel, saw, hammer, brush, cloth, small hand-drill with several bits, knife, honey adhesive (graciously restocked by the unknowing barkeep) and a heatstone, lent by the barkeep.

 

First order of business - the tin can. Best to work from the bottom-up. Removing the lid, Jokaro made sure it was empty. He selected a rather thick ring of solid metal that would provide just enough room for a compartment filled with lightstone shards as well as a wax container. He brushed honey-adhesive on the bottom of the can and, with a bit of hammering, managed to get the thick metal ring attached to the bottom. He uncorked the vial of lightstone shards and filled the centre of the ring with the tiny glowing pieces, which, fortunately, gave off no heat.

 

Using his knife, Jokaro cut a secton off the bottom of the candle, and carefully carved out a small, hollow, cup-shaped 'chamber' of wax, which he fitted to the bottom of the can, through the centre of the ring filled with lightstone shards, with a small piece of wood and adhesive. The wax chamber was now sitting within the 'nest' of lightstones, it's hollow end facing up, out of the tin can.

 

Next, Jokaro painstakingly cut a metal tube down to size - its diameter was slightly larger than that of the wax chamber, but less than the diameter of the interior of the metal ring. Finished cutting the tube, he made sure it would rest with one end touching the wax chamber, with the other snug against the lid of the can -in the centre of which he drilled a hole, the diameter of that of newly-cut tube. He attached both the tube and the lid together with adhesive, lining the holes up flush.

 

Setting the lind-and-tube piece aside, Jokaro melted the candle's wax with the heatstone, sealing the area around the open end of the wax chamber, over the lightstones and the face of the thick metal ring. He now had a pressure seal.

 

...But he'd made a mistake. There wouldn;t be any way to get his compound into the main compartment. He quickly detached the cut tube before the adhesive dried, applied more adhesive to the lip around the wax chamber, and reattached the tube there. That would work. 

 

Jokaro took the lid of the can and attached two more rings to the underside. One would fit snugly over the cut tube, the other would fit snugly inside the can. The gap between both was an ideal size for drilling a couple of escape channels. 

 

The Po-Matoran took the drill, and did just that - he drilled two holes through the gap between the rings, parallel to each other on opposite sides of the lid. Using two small rods, he covered the new holes and filled the rest of the gap with wax. Removing the rods produced two cylindrical escape channels on the top of the device. He used more wax -albeit small amounts - to create more wax seals within the channels. They were designed to break when reaction within the can occurred and pressure built, releasing vaporized compound through the holes in the can lid. 

 

Taking the mortar, it was time to add the compound to the main compartment around the central channel. It was like baking a cake - pouring the (noxious) batter around the spoke in the middle. Jokaro was careful not to overfill the device - he still had to attach the lid, now with the wax-sealed escape channels. Using more honey-adhesive, he did so. The last part left to build was the triggering mechanism, the easiest component.

 

First thing to do was to create a small mesh out of the metal wire Jokaro carried around - this would be to contain a piece of heatstone to the top of the main channel, away from the wax chamber, where the reaction would occur. Satisfied with his handiwork, Jokaro assembled the rest of the component first - he drilled a hole through a cork, which he fitted through a rifled metal rod with a wooden handle attached to the top. He used adhesive to bond the cork firmly in place. The rod reached down through the central channel all the way to the wax chamber. Although, the last time the device would ever do that was if the heatstone was attached to the end of the rod.

 

Finding a washer that fit the rod, Jokaro slipped it over the end, and began to assemble a last-minute safety pin that would prevent the handle and rod from slipping down the central channel, lest the pin was pulled. 

 

Putting everything down, Jokaro took his chisel and the heatstone and carefully chipped off a small piece. He had to repeat a few times before he got a chunk of the proper size to fit down the central channel. Using the cloth to maneuver the chunk onto his wire mesh, Jokaro carefully folded up the tiny metal 'net' and wound the wire ends around the end of the rod, further securing the ends in place with adhesive and wax. 

 

Carefully sliding the washer down to the end of the rod, right above the heatstone in its 'net,' Jokaro made sure the safety pin was firmly in place before securing the washer to the top of the can's lid, both with honey and wax. He let go of the handle, and it held in place, the pin preventing the heatstone from traveling down the channel and into the wax chamber.

 

He had just created his tear gas grenade.

 

The Hikaki's Breath.

 

In the back of a heavily-populated diner.

 

In the middle of Po-Koro.

 

.

OOC: Thanks to Zox for helping with the design of the grenade.

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IC: Tyemek

 

As they arrived at the bar, the busy noise became a silent hush. 

 

"Hello, gang!" he exclaimed, in a sort of intimidating and uneasy happiness. The bar members exchanged nercvous glances."

 

"I... uh expect you want a double Whiskey as per usual", the bar tender shook as he spoke.

 

"Ahhh. Make that a triple. Its been a Karz of a day. I expect my giant of a friend should like some form of fruity cocktail, am I right?" He nudged Ngraru hard oh the shoulder with is elbow.

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IC: Zoban

 

"If they're available, yes, I would like one of those please."

 

He took one of his old maps depicting the Po-Wahi region and put it in front of him, observing it closely, trying to see what place he would venture to after the oasis.

I'm back!

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IC: Tyemek

 

"Look, if we're going to be friends, first thing you have to learn about be is that if you dont want me to do something, dont tell me not to do it". He paused, checking to see if his sentence made sense. "That was right, wasn't it?"

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IC Zoban

 

This weakling really tought he was able to be friends with the mighty Zoban. Then again, his little mind was maybe incapable to understand that he really didn't want to be with him. If it was capable of something at all for that matter.

 

"Well then, maybe this is more convincing..."

 

He said as he plunged a knife in the wooden table.

I'm back!

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IC Zoban:

 

Zoban responded angrily: "Oh you dumb ... Can't you read? We are in Po-Koro remember, so where would we be on the map? Maybe the dot with 'Po-Koro' written next to it!"

 

He stood up.

 

"I'm tired of this, I think I'm going to bed."

I'm back!

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