Bzprpg - Ta-Wahi

[Dapper-Sama]

[iC] Akamaru hated these situations. Situations in which he would have difficulty determining who is right. However, he knew one thing: these were formidable warriors.

[Elemental Ussal]

OOC: Kranuka was standing a ways back allowing his sword to cool off. He certainly wouldn't have been close enough for Kotahk to strike him, and Kotahk wouldn't have swung had Kranuka been in the way. I planned that out. Please edit.

Bunnying someone into hitting their teammate is excusable once, but cannot be overused.

 

I.C. Kranuka's blade now cooled. He waited for the perfect time to strike.

 

I.C. The second Kotahk's sword hit the ground, it was up again ready for another swift, powerful strike. He knew it would only be a matter of time before his misguided opponent would run out of stamina.

Edited February 13, 2013 by Elemental Ussal

[Guest X-G.12]

IC [kersill] [ta-koro]

 

"so what do we do now?" Xsendir asked. "Now....we solve a mystery. what the heck was this guy doing out there? why was a ta-matoran in ko-wahi?" Kersill said. "so...we leave?" Xsendir asked hopefully. "yes" was the response. they made their way to the city gates when Kersill was stopped by a guard. "no one enters or leaves" he said. "I suppose you won't let me pass, even though I can rupture your eardrums and cause you to fall to the ground without a second thought?" Kersill said. the guard knew that that was true, but still he stood firm. "carry on then, matoran. don't let me bother you" Kersill said and turned around. communicating telepathically, he spoke to Xsendir. I guess we'll have to wait then Kersill thought at him. startled, Xsendir looked around for the source of the voice in his head. calm down, it's just me. "okay then! don't startle me like that" was the snappy reply.

Edited February 13, 2013 by X-G.12

[Dralcax]

OOC: Sorry, guys, I've been pretty busy for the last week or so. I might not be able to RP until Saturday, so try to do this without me until then, OK?

IC Fehron

Noticing the other end was starting to glow red-hot and his end was rapidly heating up, Fehron quickly broke the chain.

[- JL -]

IC: Axeron

 

When wasn't it a matter of time.

[Hanako Herupa]

IC: (Kino Iho)

 

A figure wearing red leather armor, moved gracefully through the village of fire, how it clung to the being's feminine figure already gave away her gender. Her arms were seemed to be red as well, cloth covering every inch of her skin, mostly due to the rather long gloves she wore. She continued on, straight into the village's busy marketplace. Sharp grey eyes scanning the surroundings from beneath her hood. Beings of all shapes, sizes, and color moved through the bazaar. Vendors arguing with customers, Guardsmen scanning for any signs of actual trouble. Vortixx demonstrating the skill of their craftsmanship to matoran onlookers. She had always loved Ta-Koro, it was brimming with activity and it was warm. For some uncomfortably so, but she had always found a way to appreciate each vista she traveled to.

 

Given that it was midday, she found it slightly more difficult to maneuver through crowd. She had what she was looking for in mind, a mask vendor. The prices of course would be rather extortionate when compared to other villages. However, given that the finest crafters of masks, armor, and weapons lived and worked in Ta-Koro it was usually a fair deal. To those who could afford it. To the Toa of Air, money was of little consequence.

 

She sighed as she noticed the vendor, an old Turaga was standing, explaining to a Ta-matoran child what each mask did if it was powered. Unfortunately it was on the other side of the marketplace. She stifled her own grumbling and continued her trek through the crowds. She would reach the vendor in a few minutes and there would be where her new identity would start.

Edited February 28, 2013 by Solaire of Astora

[Madu Cabolo]

IC: Kaldrus

Kaldrus did not answer Ka'tru immediately, but walked in silence. After a few minutes of silence, he said, "There are dangers to relying on someone else as a guide. If only we had a Mask of Truth here. But be that as it may, there is no denying our need for a guide. Perhaps we should go down the mountain to Ta-Koro and find a matoran who knows the area well."

[- JL -]

IC: JL

 

-Fwoom!-

 

That was something surprisingly awesome, considering how deep at night it was. JL looked outside. For a second, he thought he was dreaming; there was no sun in the sky, and far up he could still see the glistening stars. But emerging from the middle of the island, was light.

 

Smiling to himself, JL sat back down, feeling the shockwave pass as he marveled at the sheer power he could feel far in the distance.

 

Perhaps the world is changing.

[Kopekemaster]

IC Ka'tru:

Well why did we head this far up the mountain? Ka'tru thought, wished to say as well. However, he simply turned around and started walking down the slope.

"We should head to Ta-Koro. I am sure there will be some slightly-insane matoran that would want to accompany us on our quest."

 

OOC: OK, the stage is set for you, Vezonthebabbler!

[Palm]

IC: Tank - Ta-Koro PrisonTank shuffled his way over to the table, his hands in cuffs and his mask removed, he didn't feel weak. This was the life he chose to live. When he broke Utu out of prison to figure out the Marks and what was really happening with them, he made a promise to Tuara. He promised that he would turn himself in when everything was said and done. He had done what he said he would. He would unlock the Mark's secret, remember who he really was, and come back here to pay the price for his crimes.And he did just that. Of course, some things were done that he wasn't proud of, the destruction of Tuara's mind being a notable example. But all in all, he kept his promise.He sat down, feeling strange about having a visitor. He never had visitors.

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"Why hello there Tank. If you're still called that anyway."

 

Dalia strode into the room, taking a seat on the other end of the table.

 

"How's it going?" She asked, tempted to prop her feet onto the table. Her armor was dusty and beaten, as if she'd walked through a whole Wahi of weather and Rahi to get here. There was a certain look in her eyes, like she was thinking impulsively, and not trying to use logic anymore.

 

"Because for me, the last few days have been pretty boring. Outside of avoiding dying on several occasions, not much has happened to me. But I'm not here to talk about me. I'm here to talk to you."

[Palm]

IC: Tank - Ta-Koro PrisonTank eyed the Guards impassively. He turned his attention back to his fellow ex-Mark Bearer, a hint of amused confusion spreading into his lips. This Dalia seemed different than the one he once knew, and for this reason and this reason alone, he wasn't sure what to make of the situation. In addition to being visited. He thought nobody else knew he had ended up here. There was no beating around the bush."What would you like to talk about?"

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"There's a whole mess of things that I would love to talk about. But this isn't really the time, or the place."

 

Dalia paused, leaning back in her chair so the front two legs temporarily lifted off the ground.

 

"I'm interested, what did you do with the journal? Don't tell me you gave it to Arekule..."

[Palm]

IC: Tank - Ta-Koro Prison"It's at the bottom of the ocean along with the rest of the Kumu-Islets. Unless Tuara or Angelus took it with them when they left the temple."Tank raised an eyebrow, "Why?"

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

The chair suddenly had four legs on the ground again, and Tank could probably feel Dalia's glare from across the table.

 

"I needed it."

 

Dalia thought for a moment. That wasn't the answer she'd expected from Tank. But there wasn't anything she could do about that now.

 

"Angelus is still around? I know I could've sworn I saw Tuara earlier... Did Angelus get rid of her too?"

[Palm]

IC: Tank - Ta-Koro Prison"Need, or need-ed?"Tank leaned in a little, a scowl starting to form on his face, ignoring the comment about Tuara and Angelus. If she wanted to talk to either of them, she could, but Tank wouldn't present anything further than where they could be found. He wasn't even sure where Tuara had been with Angelus. After that stint in the jungle, Tank assumed they would still be together. He had no reason to suspect otherwise, "You aren't seriously considering re-branding the Mark are you?"Tank looked up a little over Dalia's shoulder to see Tuara walking past the chain-link screen down the hall. Probably to visit Dorian again. He quickly turned his attention back to Dalia to rectify the acknowledgement. However, he found she was already looking over her shoulder. Tuara disappeared, and Tank sort of hoped she hadn't seen her. He moved back on topic rather quickly, "Are you?"

Edited February 21, 2013 by snoip lion

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"It crossed my mind."

 

Dalia hadn't seen Tuara, nor was she particuarly interested in talking to her either. She had taken the seal, and had it between her thumb and her index finger.

 

"To be honest Tank, I'm not sure what to do. I don't even know who I really am anymore. It seems that everytime I go with someone, or stay somewhere for any amount of time... People die, or end up breaking any agreement they had with me. Sev, You, Angelus, Emotia..."

 

She started to spin the seal between the two fingers, watching it with feigned interest.

 

"Because in the end, the only thing I know is what I can't do. I can't go back to Le-Koro and be a... Companion for any male with widgets. I can't find Sev. I can't be a Mark-Bearer again. I can't avenge Emotia."

 

She frowned as she took the seal with two hands and tried to snap it in half. She'd already tried destroying the thing. It couldn't be done. Still, she hated how she felt. She was always weak, but she hated the feeling that she had since her mark was removed. The feeling of weakness that she could never really shake off for long.

 

"I thought that talking to you might give me some insight. Some... 'Golden Ticket' that could make things better... I thought, if you had the journal, maybe it would tell me who I am, who I was."

"Because in the end... Who was I before my mark was removed?" She asked, pocketing the seal, "Even among the Mark Bearers, I wasn't anyone. The others let me live because I went along with what they said, because I stayed out of their way."

 

"I need to know what to do, and you're the only one left that I can turn to."

[Palm]

IC: Tank - Ta-Koro PrisonTank made a motion with his cuffed wrists, pointing out the fact he was wearing them, a sad smile on his lips, "I might not be the best example of a desirable outcome," Tank folded his hands back onto the table, "Look, I messed up a lot during that whole situation. I crossed a lot of lines out of desperation of who I was. I pushed others to further my own agenda, manipulated people into killing each other," Tank looked over, Tuara had rounded the corner now, and was at the end of the hall, checking in with security. She would be moving to the cell blocks right away, "And worst of all, I destroyed that woman's life. She won't accept my apology, which is something I don't blame her for," he sighed, "I see her every day, alcohol on her breath, a glazing sad look in her eyes. I haven't seen or heard anything about Angelus since a couple weeks ago, and she's making daily visits to Dorian who recently turned himself in."Tank brought his hands up to his mouth, gnawing on his fingernails, a bad habit he had picked up on since the prison life began. Tuara finished checking in with security, and continued through the now opening door to the cell blocks, weaponless, "She's falling apart. And sometimes I think she wants to fall apart."Tank looked back to Dalia, regret clear as day in his eyes, "All because I was chasing after my own ghost."The Toa of sands shook his head a little, "I don't know what it is you want. If you're trying to assert your identity, find Utu or whoever is left out there, get a job, find answers about that freaky temple," Tank leaned away from the table, putting his back to the chair he was sitting in, "Whatever that is, is up to you. I'm done telling other people what they can and can't do. Just, whatever you do," the ex-Mark Bearer's gaze locked onto Dalia's eyes, creating a sudden sense of authority and solemnity, "Don't make the same mistakes I did."

Edited February 22, 2013 by snoip lion

[Kooler186]

IC: "Where am I?"

 

I continue into the charred forrest, when visions blind my site."I'm your creator Arbo. I will teach you everything you need to..."In this mysterious language I see what my translating program tells me 'Er o.' "I must be named Er O. I feel like something was off about Arbo, a city was behind him, yet I'm in a burned down forest. I must find someone to tell me my destiny."

 

"I shall sit and wait for someone to find me."oc: I'll allow people to use Er O as a servant if they want.

Edited February 23, 2013 by Kooler186

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"I hope you found what you were looking for... Tank."

 

Dalia sighed and stood up. What Tank had said to her was probably the best advice she ever had heard. She didn't know what she wanted, all that she knew was that her old life was gone, a life that she wasn't even fully content with. Now she had to figure out what to do.

 

Start with finding a job, The impulse was was something she had known for a good time, but it was something she never had acted upon before.

 

Tank's advice still ringing in her ears, she turned and started to walk out of the room, to leave the prison and to head back into Ta-Koro. She didn't have the answers she wanted, she still didn't even know exactly what she wanted, but she was going to find out.

 

Eventually.

[Dapper-Sama]

[iC] Akamaru smiled, for his intervention was unneeded. So he teleport'd to a nearby face of rock to observe once more.

 

[OOC] Considering how this is an RPG based heavily around parties, I'm doomed....

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

"Hey Flay," Nei said, sitting upside down in a chair, bored, "I know we're supposed to be resting and all of that, but can we honestly do something? It's been at least a day or two... And I'm bored."

 

Her mind was off on more troubling events. The assassination of Turaga Vakama, The burst of light that she'd just seen out of the window... She also was worried about Embok, and if Nokama was also killed, what had happened to Embok? She hadn't heard from him in awhile. Sitting around with nothing to do was doing nothing for her, except driving her mind to unneeded worry.

[Silvan Haven]

Loren- Ta-wahi

 

IC: The grey Toa of Sonics steadily trudged along his patrol route in the charred forest, looking for any sign of rahi. This close to the main roads, an infected rahi could spell trouble for any merchants or travelers that might be passing through. To counteract this, the Guard regularly patrolled the area, scaring off normal rahi and taking the masks of infected ones.

 

At the moment though, Loren was mostly absorbed in his thoughts about the guard. It seemed like with every new trial somebody come up with a new rule or regulation in order to "prevent it from happening again." He snorted.

 

As if that was going to work. If a Skakdi or mentally deranged Toa wanted to kill somebody, then a few rules were hardly going to stop them. And it wasn't is if Makuta's servants listened to them anyway.

 

And so he went, half submerged in his thoughts and half watching for any sign of dangerous animals.

[- JL -]

IC:

 

*Stretch*

 

*Yawn*

 

Flay -

 

 

 

"Well then, I guess it is time. I'm sure we all saw that blast of light; we have nothing much to do right now, but to head in that direction, and investigation shall be our new op."Holding her 2 swords in both hands, she clashed them together, the friction of two blades creating sparks. Just as fast as the two weaopns came together, they were away from each other, the only evidence of them touching each other being the loud ring that came from their balanced vibrations.

 

She sheathed them both, grabbed her pack, and went out the door.

Edited February 27, 2013 by JL v2

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

Nei had quickly grabbed her shiny new disk, and slung it over her back. The Disk. A classic matoran weapon/tool. She also had made the point of obtaining a Ga-Koran spear.

 

Just because Nei was in a Ta-Koro Guard building, and with a bunch of Ta-Koro Guards, didn't mean she couldn't acknowledge the fact that she was from Ga-Koro.

[Visaru]

IC

Dorgath had seen it, but assumed it to merely be a trick of the light. He didn't really think it was important- probably just some weird Vortixx device- but he guessed they might as well check it out. It didn't take him long to pack up his possessions and follow the team out the door, staff over his shoulder and excitement in his chest.

 

Hopefully he could accomplish something in the Makuta's name on the journey.

[Geardirector]

IC: Baranx

For a while, Baranx had been occupied in a friendly exchange with Fehran, but the second Flay took charge, the jovial smile blew right off his face, his eyes narrowed as he grabbed his tools.

"Where to?" he asked simply.

Edited January 7, 2014 by Dr. O

[Wotz]

IC: Tadris

 

Tadris opened his eyes.

 

His body was black. The chair he was sitting in was also black. The air was black. Everything was black. I'm blind! I'M BLIND! "HELP! I'M BLIND!"

 

"Don't be ridiculous," said a sophisticated voice in a matter-of-fact tone. "You aren't blind, you've just been blindfolded. Look, see!" a hand grabbed something on the back of his head and fiddled for a moment, before the veil descended and a dark room was brought into view. Tadris wasn't entirely sure what the point in blindfolding him in such a dark environment was, but he didn't bother questioning the logic of this mysterious Ta-Matoran who seemed surprisingly intimidating despite his comical voice and stature.

 

"Um, hello...?" he asked, not daring to turn and look at him.

 

"Hello. My name is Quatan." Tadris said nothing. "Nice to meet you too..." Quatan muttered, walking round so the Toa of fire could see him. "Toa with Kakama are usually hard ones to catch. Except, of course, for someone of my expertise!" the Matoran held up a blue Hau. No, not a Hau, a-

 

"You took my mask!" Tadris exclaimed, realising why his face felt so bare.

 

"He did say rookies tend to state the obvious more frequently," drawled the Matoran, rolling his eyes.

 

"Oh really?" Tadris asked sarcastically. "And next you're going to tell me you caught me all by yourself (when we both know you didn't) and then go on a massive speech about how amazing you are and then go on to try and torture me or something. I assure you, I can't allow that to happen."

 

There was a long silence. Quatan's mouth fell open slightly, giving him a strange expression of dull surprise. Tadris smiled. He loved having clever moments.

 

"Best we proceed, then," the Matoran decided, drawing a knife from an unknown location. At the blade's tip was a tiny spike, evidently designed to break off as the weapon was drawn from the body.

 

Tadris' face fell. He had to think of some way to escape, and fast, or in a few seconds time a shard of metal would be stuck in his body, slowly carving a path through his body. Not a fate he was fanatical about.

 

Reaching out with his powers, straining his abilities to the limit, he drew in as much heat as he could from the air behind his hands. Time seemed to slow; Quatan's steps took years to occur, every second was a lifetime. How much longer could he keep this up? Almost...

 

...There! At last, he had built up enough energy to release a tiny burst of flame, which torched the ropes binding his hands and feet to the chair, allowing him to spring into action. Not wasting any time, he swung an arm out to his assailant. Even as he finished clenching a fist in mid-swing, it had connected with the Matoran's face, causing him to cry out in pain, "Ah! My face! What the-"

 

Even without his mask, Tadris was a quick-moving fellow. Before the pain had even been registered, the mask in Quatan's hand was gone. Without hesitation, Tadris raised it up to his face and pressed it in, feeling it connect with a click, and its power wash over him, restoring him to the power he was used to. Only now, he felt far more appreciative of the abilities it gave him.

 

Whirling around, he grabbed Quatan by the neck and raised him in front of him like a shield, before activating his mask and charging forward. He winced as the flimsy wall structure shattered, sending the two of them tumbling outside, down a shingle-coated slope to a rocky cliff-like edge hanging over the village in the Lake of Fire. Quatan rolled over and inadvertently fell from the ledge, just about catching himself on the hardened, rocky lava.

 

It was tempting, oh, so tempting, to let his kidnapper fall to his doom, never to be seen again. No one would have to know about it, and the little prick would be getting what he deserved-

 

No. That wasn't the Toa way. Swallowing his pride, Tadris reached down and took the Matoran's hand, hauling him up onto the ledge with him.

 

"You... Shouldn't have done that..." Quatan croaked, before coughing out a cloud of dust and ash. "...Could have -koff- killed me -koff- better to let me die than let me kill you -koff- or... Others."

 

"You won't kill me. You need me for something, like a ransom, maybe. Maybe you want to prove yourself, prove that being a Matoran doesn't make you less able to toy with a Toa. You're wasting your time, though. Deep down, you know this to be true."

 

A silence between them. The flaring of lava in the distance. The wind in their ears. Both scowled at each other.

 

"You think you can read me like a book, don't you?" Quatan growled at last, trembling with rage, an unstable volcano. It was then Tadris realised the knife was still in his hand, and scrambled to his feet, beginning to back away, then-

 

A sharp pain in the back of his leg, toppling him. He gripped the wound even as blood began to pour out. He didn't want to hurt such an already mentally broken, weak individual. One more chance. "Don't do this, Quatan. You don't want to do this. I don't want to hurt y-"

 

His last word was lost as the Matoran rushed forward, screaming, bringing the knife in, out, in, out. Tadris barely had time to realise what was going on. Another, another, another, another, another. It seemed like it would never end. The shock, the pain, the horrible, sickly feeling of cold metal entering his body. It just kept coming. In a last ditch attempt to stop his attacker, Tadris sent a jet of flame out of his hand, warding Quatan back, even as the Toa of fire fell to the ground, gripping his stomach, trying in vain to stall the rapidly forming puddle of crimson.

 

While he was distracted by the wounds, Quatan charged again, this time jumping on top of the Toa, bringing the knife down towards his face. Tadris' hand darted out and caught the Matoran's at the wrist, forcing the blade-wielding arm back. The madman was repeating something, again and again, but Tadris barely heard him. The pain was blinding, deafening. It was all he could do to pour as much heat as he could into the Matoran's arm, forcing him to drop the knife, then clamp his two hands over Quatan's face, obstructing his vision, breaking his concentration. But then it twisted. Then he heard the crack.

 

Both of them stopped struggling.

 

Tadris threw his attacker on the ground beside him, trying to force the words out of his lips, but the came only as a whisper, like his breath had simply been moulded into words. imsorryimsosorryimsorryimsorrididntmeantoimsosorry

 

"Shut up," Quatan choked, his neck twisted out of shape, the rest of his body limp. A terrible mutilation of what he once was. "You deny it, but deep down, you- you meant to kill me," nonononono "Yes... I might as well- might as well finish the job..." nodontimsorryyoudontunderstandimsorryokay "Just stop. Heh... Heh- when they- when they find us... You'll be blamed too... They'll take you, imprison you... So many years- if you survi- if you survive..." nodontyoudarepleasedontno

 

"Ha... Ha ha... Ha, ha ha hahahahahahahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA-"

 

-crunch-

 

Suicide. That's what it was, right? He killed himself, in the end. That made it okay, didn't it?

 

Tadris rolled over and saw the knife. The shard at the end was gone, now somewhere in his own body. Darkness began to creep in from the corners of his vision. The words Quatan was chanting rang in his ears. Then the world went black. Everything was black.

 

"You don't understand me."

[Silvan Haven]

Loren- Ta-wahi

 

IC: Shouting

 

The sound of metal slamming into rock.

 

Screams of pain and anger.

 

The sounds of conflict rose from one of the nearby valleys that a lava flow had carved out over the years. Without pausing to think, Loren started running in that direction, teleporting further as each foot hit the ground.

He reached the lip just in time to see a young Toa collapsing next to a Matoran. A single use of his mask brought him next to the pair. A simple look at the Matoran told the guardsman all he needed to know.

 

Broken neck, total shattering of the spinal column.

 

The Toa was bleeding heavily from a myriad of wounds across his face and stomach. Loran knelt down beside him and began working feverishly, wrapping the bandages that he always carried with him around the worst wounds, all the while speaking softly,

 

"Come on kid, hang in there. Don't die on me"

[NorikSigma]

IC: FeranFeran looked up to Flay, waiting for a response. He made sure his swords were polished and hung at his hip."Where to?" He asked as well, again.

[- JL -]

IC: Flay

 

Ticked off.

 

"I ALREADY EXPLAINED!"

[NorikSigma]

IC: FeranTeran was taken aback."I meant which direftion is the light in. Was that the direction of Kini-Nui?" Feran asked.

[Wotz]

IC: Tadris

 

No matter how much Loren encouraged him to hold on, the Toa made no sign that he could hear, or move at all. All there was to show he was even alive was his rapidly weakening heart beat. Perhaps, maybe, he could hear the words, and desperately wanted to cry out, for someone to tell him it was going to be okay, that he was going to be fine. But he was on the brink of total shutdown. The edge of destruction.

[Silvan Haven]

Loren- Ta-wahi

 

IC: The Toa of sonics grit his teeth and finished tying on the last of the bandages. With a grunt of effort, he picked up the still form and looked stared at the top of a nearby ridge. With a thought, he vanished and reappeared at the top of the mound of rock and ash. This continued for the next several minutes, Loren always aiming for the highest spot and greatest line of sight.

 

Eventually, he reached the outer gatehouse to the fortress. Luckily, the bridge was up for many merchants and travelers that crossed every hour. This allowed the Ta-koro Guardsman to teleport across without having to explain his situation to the guards in the outer gatehouse.

Less then a minute later, he arrived at one of the hospitals in the koro used by the Guard for cases more severe then the infirmary could deal with. After a short explanation, the young Toa was carted off into one of the operating rooms by a Toa of the green and his Ta-Matoran assistant.

[AuRon the champion]

IC:

 

Nei nodded at Feran's question, whispering into his ear, "Try not to aggravate her. She's not in the best of moods..."

[Wotz]

IC: Tadris

 

...

 

Voices, people walking to and fro, some kind of equipment being moved around, all seemingly trying to keep quiet as they came near wherever Tadris was. He was lying on something fairly soft, but was wrapped in some kind of papery sheet. It was jarring, for him, to suddenly be transported to a completely different location, clean, not in (as much) pain, feeling very much alive as opposed to essentially dead. Judging by the smell, and the sounds around him, he had been taken to a hospital of some kind. But nowhere near enough time had passed, right? It had only been minutes, seconds even...

 

Slowly, he pried his eyelids apart and slowly looked around to find his suspicions were correct. Around him was what appeared to be a military medical center. Were his injuries so severe that he had been taken here instead? Or did they recognise him as somewhat of a member of the Po-Koro Guard (he wasn't sure himself whether that was a dream or not - it felt so long ago)? The facilities seemed to have a uniform of their own, with the same basic beds and equipment all through the room. Tadris had never been to a hospital before, at least not in a bed, but even so he could tell that this one was far smaller than the usual. It was unlikely they would know a Private by name, which left the last option: His injuries were so severe that just the infirmary was not enough. The Toa of fire felt, then, that his flame had lost its ferocity. His heart sank.

 

Pushing himself up slightly, with some effort due to the clenching pain in his stomach, he turned to look around further, and found that to his left was sitting a strangely familiar Toa, sitting on a stool and staring at him. This made him jump slightly, but he hardly showed it, thanks to his entire body aching. The being before him wore grey-brown armour, and a Kakama of the same colour. He almost looked like a shadowy reflection of-

 

"Rynekk?" Tadris breathed softly, gazing in shock at this Toa who looked just like his friend, only with all the life and colour drained from him.

 

"I am Rynekk," the shadow-Rynekk said. "Or, Rynekk as he should be. As he really is. The face of his darkness, you might say. His shadow."

 

"Cut the theatrics," Tadris growled. "I'm in no mood or condition to mess around. Who are you?"

 

"You will find out who I am in time. For now, consider me a friend. But do not tell Rynekk about me. If he has any knowledge of my existence, his mind will burn and he will die... And I will die too," somehow, this Toa's completely infallible tale seemed somehow believable. There was something in the way he spoke that seemed... Trustworthy. "I doubt you would like another's blood on your conscience."

 

At this, Tadris gritted his teeth. All that had happened was such a blur, but with these words, all of it came rushing back to him. The struggle. Twisting Quatan's neck. The mentally and physically broken Matoran finishing the job. The stabbing. All of it. Even the last thing he saw before finally going out: The knife. The notch at the end was missing.

 

Changing the subject after his brief silence silence, Tadris spoke up, his voice beginning to come back to him with exercise. "Do you know anything about what they've done? Did they find any metal inside me, or look?"

 

"I know nothing of such things. I'm merely a visitor. And," Rynekk's double said, turning to see a nurse enter holding a tablet, "it appears my time is up. We will, of course, meet again, Tadris. I wish you a speedy recovery, and for now, I bid you farewell."

 

Tadris gave a weak little wave as the Toa left, almost bumping into the nurse, to whom he bowed his head politely, then left. The nurse came over to his bedside and began to tell him assorted details he already knew about his condition. It was clear this Matoran was trained for military injuries, as opposed to brutal stabbings on cliff edges, but Tadris was thankful they were doing their best. His thoughts began to drift elsewhere.

 

Something was definitely afoot. This Toa who had come to visit him in hospital - something the real Rynekk had failed to do - had seemed dark and intimidating at first: he had said that he was Rynekk 'as he should be', as if there was something wrong with the real Rynekk. And the whole story about Rynekk's mind burning... It seemed strangely reminiscent of something else, but Tadris couldn't quite put his finger on it. This Toa, though, was kind and friendly. He had no specific agenda, other than to simply be here to wish him a speedy recovery. Something so simple was something Tadris had been pleasantly surprised by. But that led to the question: Where was the real Rynekk when Tadris was in hospital? One part of him told him that Rynekk was looking for him. He had been kidnapped after all. But another side told that Rynekk had forgotten him, that he had left him, given up. Tadris looked back to when he had first met him, all that time ago. He seemed possessed then, evil. What if those ways had come back? What if-

 

No, thoughts like that didn't get anyone anywhere... Did they...?

 

"...everal shards of metal were found and removed, safely-"

 

"Did you get them all?" he asked urgently. The nurse nodded. "Are you sure?"

 

"Yes, we are sure. You should be ready to leave by tomorrow or the day after. You need to make sure you get as much rest as possible and eat plenty of nourishing food. Meal times are..." The nurse's words and Tadris' attention then parted ways again.

 

Was Rynekk looking for him? Was he kidnapped too, dead even? Was he a lost cause?

 

Had Tadris' best friend left him?

Edited April 1, 2013 by Navy Nutter

[NorikSigma]

IC: Feran"Sorry, I was just asking," he whispered back to Nei.To Flay:"Sorry, I was alittle sleepy. I apologise," Feran said.

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

For the longest time as a kid, all I had to learn to count to was the number one. Why? Because I was taught to never pay attention to anything that didn't concern me. That's how you cut it in business, love, that's how you cut it in family, that's how you cut it in love, and most important, that's how you always gotta cut it around me.

 

Otherwise, you're the one getting cut. Badda-boom, badda-bing, no apologies. That's just how it is, for me: I'm done apologizing. You learn to lose that humility streak quick when not a man alive can touch you, and half the women alive have touched you. It just drains out like blood from a vein, and I learned a long time ago that the key to surviving (and the key to killing, coincidentally) was a quick, clean cut, right where stuff was at its most dangerous. And so it was that I became the greatest, of all time, until such a time came that I wasn't.

 

And then I was again, it's just that the rest of the people around me didn't know it yet.

 

I mean, okay. Maybe I'm what, top 10 of all time? Top 5? Top 3? Brykon, he was better than me; Brykon was always better than me, because not only was that dude ripped up as a piece of paper that stood its ground against a charging bull, he had life lessons up and out the wazoo. A lot of those lessons, I was still learning from, or at least attempting to. The problem is, his lessons were pretty centered on being a good guy, or at least being centric. There's a certain point where you spill enough blood, and it becomes a riptide, and the tide grabs you by the waist and pulls you left of center, and suddenly you're not a good guy, or even centric. Not anymore.

 

I can't be a good guy. Not yet. Probably not ever. Not that I mind; that shtick's been so far gone for too long, now.

 

Heuani. Unf, Heuani was better than me, no bones about it. Not cheekbones, jawbones, armbones, legbones, no bones. I gotta admit that he was better: there's no way around admitting it, not when he's the only person to ever plague my dreams, not when he's the only person to ever scar my body, not when the very concept of him leaves me thirsty like no water can quench. He hadn't won when he'd pinned the tail on the donkey (for your sake, reader, I'll forgo the more obvious and accurate label that you can pin a tail on) he hadn't won when he'd first dared me to lop off that mad hatter Echelon's head, no. He'd won the instant he'd laid eyes on me, as he always did. Always would. So he was better. I'm man enough to admit it, but be warned, that's all I'm admitting to, from here on out.

 

It was on this day that I learned to count to three. Where was I going with this, again?

 

This psychologist's eyes. That's where I was going with this: man, those things were green. Not Kynaera green, of course: you could spend years drawing Kynaera, practicing that shade of verde on paper with any variety of paints or ink, but it wouldn't get you anywhere, because nothing, anywhere on the world, could ever be Kynaera green. These eyes lacked enigma, drive, a certain carbonation-esque fizzle, so they weren't Kynaera green. But they were green, and they were the main features in a soft, educated looking face that stared at me like a mental milk chocolate bar, waiting to be unwrapped and savored, like a good book or song. You struggled to pay attention to every detail, hold onto every second and make it count, but when it came down to it, you still zipped through its dark, enthralling world all too soon, getting it over with too soon. Everybody I knew, everybody I'd ever laid eyes on, they were all in such a hurry to zip through their lives, age too fast, get buried too soon.

 

I was smarter than that.

 

"Well?" she asked. "What are you thinking?"

 

I'm thinking you should quit while you're ahead, before I quit, and you're just a head.

 

There was a window in this office, and I looked outside, towards the sun. It didn't actually shine into my eyes or anything; my favorite too-blue facial crystal balls were hidden behind my not-so-new white hipster shades. The right eyepiece was held up lazily by my Protosteel index knuckle as I pretended to struggle to stay awake, and the rest of my face was held up by my palm. I had brought the blazer, the shirt, the jeans. The scarf. She was getting the uncensored me, which, according to her job description, was what she wanted. That, I could roll with. Out of the corner of my peripheral vision, I could see the sun beginning to climb back down from the window, like a princess who was about to dive from her tower into Prince Charming's waiting arms before remembering she was scared of heights.

 

It had been thirteen days, and I had not said a single word, but almost by themselves my vocal chords twitched like a cat in a rainstorm, shaking itself dry. I smirked; almost against her will, I'd seen her snap to, aware she could be on the verge of either a psychological breakthrough, a physical broken neck, or perhaps both. Or neither: she may have believed I was screwing with her. Either way, I shrugged and kicked back in the chair, silently jotting down a note in my head to convince Tuara to let me get a couch like this for my cell. Next step: convince her to share it with me. I would get there, eventually. I always did.

 

When I put my mind to it, I could do a lot of things, and right now, I had about three case files sitting on my bunk, waiting to be perused and solved, and I wanted to get back to them ASAP.

 

What, you surprised? Don't be. I'm not doing this out of some sense of karmic justice, this isn't because I feel like it's the right thing to do. I am not the good guy. I just get bored being a ward of the state for the indeterminate future, and let's be honest here, maybe getting these guys off the people's case will get Tuara off my case. And, preferably, onto my couch.

 

"I need a friend."

 

What.

 

At this, I had yanked myself awake; my palm slid out from under my face and I sat up straight, plucking the sunglasses away from my pretty blue eyes and looking up at her as though she had forced me to hit myself in the face with a Kolhii stick. The glasses hung in my hand, swinging like a pendulum: they were suspended the odd, beautiful blue space between sky and ground, the very same blue that I used to see with every day. Nothing breathed or twitched. You could hear something blink.

 

"You don't have any friends?" the shrink asked; I snorted in reply.

 

"Of course I do, there's Grokk...he's my best friend, even though I have irresistibly cool dreams about killing him three times a week. Love him to death," I said, leaving it up to interpretation how literal I was being. "And...uh, Tuara! Yeah, Tuara, she's...hot."

 

"She also has a drinking problem."

 

"I'm not sure what you're trying to imply."

 

Nothing more was said after that for several minutes, and I took that as my cue: reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out a pair of handcuffs and affixed one cuff to my wrist. The sunglasses were slid back on, so that she couldn't see my cocky wink, before I placed my hands behind my back and locked the other cuff into place. With both hands behind my back and an odd sense of foreboding in my chest, I nudged open the door with my knee and began the long, solitary walk back to my cell. She was crazy, right? I had friends. A couple, yeah, but that's just because it took a lot for me to call a guy or a girl a friend of mine. Grokk was my friend because he'd challenged me; Tuara had, too. Naara was more than a friend. That counted for, like, five friends. The shrink, surprise surprise, was the crazy one. I knew it.

 

Right?

 

Yeah. Of course.

 

-Tyler

[shadow pridak money gang]

OOC: Calling in the twelve hour rule for this one, since it appears no one else has anything to post here...

 

IC:

 

Believe it or not, I was kind of looking forward to getting back to my cell; it wasn't for the regular reasons that people suffering from capture-bonding or anything get. I wasn't jonesing for the idea of being behind cell bars, nor was I in the frame of mind to sleep on a slab of metal about as thick as my hand. That's just not me, so, naturally, I bent prison to my terms, as only I could. Of course, it took work. But in exchange for the arrest rates in Ta-Koro going skyhigh after I started solving all the Guard's crimes for them, all I requested in return was the right to make any aesthetic or comfort changes to the cell that I wanted.

 

So what was once a cell had become a sort of one room apartment for me. I had a dresser and mirror combo, because I needed both of those things in my life (I am not putting any of my clothes on this dusty floor!) and they helped make me feel slightly better about the fact that I wasn't aging at five times the normal speed. I had a large carpet where the center looked like a Kolhii pitch, just so I didn't have to put myself on the dusty floor. I had pillows, blankets, and even a futon, in case I ever got tired of attempting sleep on the cot offered to me by the good taxpayers of Ta-Koro - which, by the way, I got tired of every night. Bless her heart, Tuara had even done some volleying for me and allowed me to get a minifridge in case I wanted leftovers from the day's lunch - which, by the way, was never, but it was the thought that counted. I got three semi-bearable meals a day; there was an exercise room and shower in case the prisoners wanted to do something constructive with their time. In all honesty, life as the most dangerous inmate in the Koro...wasn't really that terrible.

 

Of all the amenities that I had procured over the course of my stay here in the gilded cage, though, it was the one sitting on my terrible, thin little metal cot, hanging from the wall by two simple metal chains, that instantly grabbed my attention as I plucked the key to my cell-apartment out from my back pocket (with hands still cuffed! Man, I really am good at everything!) and unlocked it, walking in, catching my handcuffs around a cell bar, and sliding the key from the lock into the cuffs, jolting them open with a tiny click. That done, I took a couple steps towards the goddess lounging my ex-bed, took in the sight of her perfect, perfect face, her lithe, toned body like a panther, the fluid way she sat up and smirked in one motion, the way her arms reached up and stretched languidly, the way her legs draped over the cot--her legs. Toned and seductive, the legs of a runner, they tantalized my eyes to no end, and it almost sent me into cardiac arrest looking away from them.

 

I was rewarded for my efforts, though; my gaze went back to the angel's face, where her hazel eyes glowed like the heartlights of lesser beings, beautiful in their liveliness and faux-flippant nature. The way her thin mouth curled up from straight line to low smirk to high smirk, cutting into the personal space of one of her majestic cheekbones, was enough to drive most lesser men mad, and it set even my nerves on edge. The very structure of her, the way she was lovingly assembled by hands much wiser, stronger than mine, was almost enough to prove to me that there was a Great Spirit. Almost.

 

She was surreal, in every sense of the word, from head to toe. Most people, they'll wake up from a dream and feel like they're not entirely awake yet, like some part of the dream still has a hold over their psyche. she was that dream, with her tight-as-an-airlock grip on the larger fragments of my soul; in her eyes, I saw the darkest desires all men held, and when I looked a bit deeper I saw the purity needed for man to achieve them. She shouldn't have existed, no perfection of this magnitude should, but she did. And as I took the sight of Naara in, all of it, complete with quilted cotton t-shirt and those stupidly hot freaking short shorts, whole and unfettered, I realized she had driven me crazy. And then I realized that, if that was the worst she could do to me, I was okay with that.

 

"For someone who's supposed to be my teacher," I drawled, trying not to let my vocal chords tremble like a scared child, confronted with an angry, drunken parent, "you sure did learn a lot from me about popping up like a phantom unannounced."

 

-Tyler

[Visaru]

IC - Ta-Koro

Dorgath fell into step with Feran as Feran sheepishly apologized to Flay and her angry outburst. It seemed the stereotype of angry Ta-Matoran was actually true with her.

 

"It really is a pity Vakama is gone- I still haven't gotten over that," Dorgath told Feran as they walked and the former lava farmer looked around the village, noting the dancing Matoran and the merchants and the travelers and briefly allowed himself to experience a wave of hatred directed at the foolish, naive, gullible fools that lived here. All blindly obeying the rules of a now-dead leader, living their lives, pretending the Turaga were perfect beings, spirit-sent to save them. They believed every word the Turaga said was holy. They worshiped Mata-Nui, but really they were worshiping the Turaga. Who knew if Mata-Nui was even real? The sleeping god had never done anything. It was likely just the Turaga's lies, brainwashing the stupid villagers into obeying them like slaves.

 

Dorgath was going to free them, he reminded himself. Even if they didn't know that they needed freedom, they would soon have it. Dorgath was more than a lava farmer now- he was a Hero. And Heroes could do things. Heroes had influence and Dorgath was going to use every bit of it.