Bzprpg - Le-Wahi

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

Korero opened his eyes. He saw the blue sky, bordered by jutting ridges of charred hive; he was lying flat on his back. He bent one knee, bringing it upwards to steady himself as he heaved himself onto his side -

 

And saw the arm with which he lifted himself.

 

It was long, lean, athletic; sheathed in sleek lime armour that was both strong and light, and looked to have been designed to be aerodynamic. Pushing himself up, he rose to his feet.

 

Mata Nui.

 

He was tall. He could feel the strength in his limbs, his body, every muscle full of energy as though built for agility and speed. Which, he realised with a jump in his heart, he probably was. Every fibre of his being coursed with new power and energy and he felt more alive than he ever had before.

 

Suddenly he realised that he was holding something in his right hand. Looking down, he saw what it was: his bamboo disk had transformed with him into a Toa Tool: a beautiful shield. It was shaped like a leaf, or an eye; its centre was circular and smooth, emblazoned with the symbol of Faith.

 

He slid the shield onto his arm, where it clicked into place magnetically, feeling its weight. It, like his armour, was surprisingly light, and the bladed triangular protrusions at either end looked as though they could deal some damage. In fact, it seemed perfect for throwing...

 

As a test, he moved his arm back (his body almost automatically moving into a semi-crouch to optimise power - that was new!) and then swept it round in an arc. About half-way through, the magnetic clamp unsealed, and the shield detached from his arm, spinning in a wide curve around the clearing. Seconds later, he caught it deftly, moving his arm into the perfect position and it clamped back onto his forearm like a trained hawk.

 

He looked to his friends - no, his brothers - with shining eyes.

 

"We're..." he said, "we're Toa!"

 

But his excitement was short-lived, as he and the others found themselves face-to-face with six Rahkshi. The Sons of Makuta seemed to pour out of the blackness in the Suva, shrieking as they came and brandishing their staffs with deadly strength. It seemed the Master of Shadows had found them at last. Korero moved into a defensive stance, shield raised in front of him. He looked to Stannis. The Wanderer had always seemed to know what to do; Korero naturally looked to him to lead.

 

Life as a Toa was certainly not going to be dull...

[Mad Scientist BioBeast]

IC:Miha ~Outside Kongu's Office~

 

Miha had spent a while looking for Merror, before she spotted him outside Kongu's war-hut. "Merror!" The small Le-Matoran called, running over to him. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"

[Ghosthands]

IC (Merror)

 

Merror looked up from where he was leaning against the wall of Kongu's hut.

 

"Oh, it's you, Miha," he said. The Toa of Fire smiled, but the weariness on his face was obvious.

[Mad Scientist BioBeast]

IC:Miha ~Outside Kongu's Hut~

 

"Are you okay? You look really tired." Miha observed, his drained expression becoming more noticeable the closer she got.

[Vezok's Friend]

IC:

 

Leah reached out with her hand, suddenly very conscious of the weight of the stone that she was holding, of it's texture. Her mind was focused like it had never been before, taking in every piece of information it could aquire with the senses given to it. The smells, the sensations, the sounds, the taste, the sight...Leah would never, ever forget this moment. Whatever would happen next, it was burned into her memory for eternity.With a *clack*, the stone nestled into the slot it had been destined for. For a second, nothing happend.

 

Leah's fingers trembled slightly as she pulled them back, not sure what to expect, holding her breath. She noticed that she wasn't the only one. The rustling in the leafes had stopped, the buzzing of insects was gone, the rest of the company didn't make a sound. Just out of reflex she retained enough control to breathe in again. Then the light appeared. The stone began to glow, dimly first, in its respective colour, then brighter and brighter, until the colour disappeared and only white remained. White brightness that consumed the stone and continued to expand, as if somebody was bleaching out reality in front of her eyes. It was so bright, she could not bear to look at it directly anymore and began to squint. But that didn't stop the light either and she raised her hands to shield her eyes.

 

Suddenly, the light shot outwards, swallowing everything. Her, the Suva, the others, everything. It didn't matter anymore wether or not she closed her eyes. By now the light was in her. That was the only way she could describe it. She and the light were one now. And with it came a warm, tingling sensation, like warm water running over her body. And with the sensation came what felt like pure energy. Waves of heat like hot winds over desert sand or the shudders of a fever-dream washed over her, more and more, defenitely weird but far from unpleasant. And as they increased in frequency, Leah could feel herself grow...not in a physical way, though that had to be part of it as well, but mentally as well, her whole being somehow becoming something more. The light was still there too, nothing but the brightest white somehow even more intense now.

 

And then, quickly as it had come, the sensation ebbed away and left behind a feeling of absolute calm and silence, just for a moment. Leah tried to hold on to that feeling for a little while longer. It was unlike any sensation she had ever felt before. She tried thinking of words to describe it. And the only thing she could think of was the feeling of lying adrift in the gentle rolling waves of a sea, or lake under a warm sun, each ray heating up the water until it was so comfortable, so serene that she practically felt like one with the water. Not unlike the light seconds before, it was as much a part of her as she was a part of it...

 

Leah slowly opened her eyes, the blurry overlayed circles slowly taking shape, coming back into focus. Light was falling through the treetops, creating the irregular pattern. She realized she was lying on her back on the soft ground, blades of grass brushing against her shoulder. She lifted her hand up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and suddenly realized there was way more strength in her fingers than she remembered. She opened her eyes again and lifted her hand up, looking at it.

 

It was azure. Leah blinked, but the colour didn't disappear. She dropped her hand to the ground and pushed herself up into a sitting position. She looked down her body, glancing down at her chest and traveling the lenght of her torso down to her legs with her eyes. More azure there, though most of her arms and legs were a lighter blue with a hint of the teal in it they had been before. Her feet seemed a lot further away from her face than they had previously. It worked...she realized and a mixture of relief and elation welled up inside her. And curiosity. What had happened to the others?

 

She tucked her legs in, in order to stand up, when her heel brushed against something she had not noticed before. She got to her knees and looked at the spot. Next to her in on the ground lay her Bo-Staff...but was it really hers? She looked around herself, but her old staff was nowhere in sight. And the one was not made from wood, but protosteel. She reached out and grabbed it around the middle. The metal wasn't cold. it was warm against her hand. It felt right. It must have changed with me...she thought.

 

Carefully, Leah stood up, amazed by the sudden difference in height. She had often thought what it would be like to be able to see the world through the eyes of somebody else for a change, if it was the same to them, or if perhaps they saw entirely different things. But the question had always remained unanswered...until now. Now her point of view had actually changed. It had risen a few feet, for one.

Then she focused on the staff in her hand. It was massive, but she could tell the protosteel was springy and flexible...and despite the weight, it was like a feather in her hand. She twirled it, just to get a feel and the movement came so naturally and perfect, it was almost surreal. The staff was perfectly balanced. She would have loved to try out her training routine now, but the others needed her attention. She turned to her left, where Reordin had stood and walked over to him, her footfall light and elegant, with a graceful flow to the movement.

 

The former Matoran was on the ground as well and Leah gasped, noticing the sound she made was ever-so-slightly different than from before. But it didn't matter right now, because the Toa of ice at the ground before her was the most attractive thing she ever remembered seeing. "Oh my...look what we have here..." she said, a chuckle coming over her lips, clear and playful like a small mountain-stream descending over rounded rocks.

 

Behind her, she could here a rush of air and turned around, to see an excited green Toa catching the shile dhe had just thrown. Leah's eyes widened at the sight. "Korero...?" she asked. He turned to look at her, his eyes shining.

 

"We're...we're Toa!"

 

Leah was about to reply, when she suddenly spotted figures leaping from a hidden opening in the suva itself, right in front of the brown-armour Toa who could only be Stannis. ABehind him, she spotted the red figure of what had to be Oreius and behind Reordin stood Sulov, who'se solid frame had become something she could only describe as a living tank. A wave of dread washed over her as she saw what creatures spilled out from the depth under the Suva. Rahkshi. She had never come face to face with them. The closest had been during the battle for the hive, in this very spot, but she had been behind the front-lines then. Now though, despite the realization of their transformation still not having completely sunk in, she knew that they we're the front-line. For the whole Island, no less. She brought up her staff, the ends of it racing through the air as it whirled in her hand. And suddenly, to her surprise, the ends extended by almost 2/3rds of the original length, from a handy size that could easily be carried on her back to a combat ready weapon. Toa Leah was ready.

Edited January 20, 2013 by Vezok's Friend

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

The stone clicked into place in the Suva, and all was quiet for a heartbeat. No, wait; all was quiet for two heartbeats. Reordin ran a hand along the back of his neck, casting a glance over to Stannis. Okay, so all was quiet for two and a half heartbeats. And then, suddenly, the quiet began to roar in Reordin's ears, coming to life all at once like a hurricane, bridging the gap between horizon and hometown as it crashed around you. A deep light began to blossom up from the Suva's niches like champagne, uncorked and flowing free. The light enveloped Reordin, forced its way into every pore, pushed into his body much in the way that you'd imagine a virus would.

 

This was no virus, though; Reordin felt oddly comforted by the light, felt a distinct warming sensation across his body. It was not the typical heat that a Ko-Matoran learned to adjust to, but never enjoyed; it was not the sort of heat that came when you were standing near a volcano, or living on a slab of molten rock. It was a comfortable heat, not unlike taking a dip in hot springs, but so much more than that at the same time; the light seemed to stretch and massage the very soul, pulling it and cajoling it to grow. The rational part of Reordin's mind, the part that had never been able to agree with Stannis' worldview and his way of doing things, told him that this was the Stone doing its work, that even now he was growing and changing in ways that, this time last year, he would have never even been able to imagine.

 

Maybe that had been his problem. Maybe he'd been so caught up, so sure that he was right, that he'd never bothered to imagine that maybe, somehow, the Wanderer could have been right, too. Reordin had seen things in black and white, a gift imparted to him by life as a soldier; Stannis saw, quite literally, through eyes of grey, a pragmatist, a prophet, in every sense of the word. Did Reordin like it? No. Was he big on faith? Not really. But it didn't mean that maybe, just maybe, when it all came down to the end of the road and they were standing - or maybe laying down; to be honest, the Guard really wasn't sure if he was still on his feet - they weren't both right.

 

Already, he was thinking more philosophically: whether it was the Essence Stone doing its work, or Reordin having a last minute epiphany, he couldn't really be sure, and to be frank, he didn't care. Something about the light soothed him, washed his worries away, even as the growing sensations slowly began to reach their apex and their decline and the paper-blank landscape before him disappeared. Subconsciously, he realized he had been closing his eyes to try and see something besides off-white; the Ko-Matoran/Toa of Ice - he wasn't sure which he was at this point - had no such fortune, and finally, they opened up again, to see that the first splotches of color bled back into the world around him like a child's crayons into the paper underneath his drawing.

 

Then, all at once, the colors faded in more rapidly, followed by shapes: the jagged edges of the Rama hive. Foliage, above and around him. The monstrous black obelisk before him. Then sounds: buzzing of insects. The sounds of birds chirping. And then, from above him, even as his still-weak eyes adjusted...

 

"Oh my...look what we have here..."

 

Leah...?

 

Uhm...wow. The Toa who stood before him was a far cry from the flygirl Le-Matoran he'd been standing beside moments before - Had it really only been moments? How long had the transformation taken? - but she was probably the best sight Reordin had woken up to in living memory. Every inch of her was athletic and toned, like a runner's, and though her color scheme and face had changed, the mischievous light in the Toa of Water's eyes left absolutely no doubt in Reordin's mind that this was his Leah, standing before him. Slowly, he ran his hands over his face and then realized that his hands were suddenly much larger than he remembered them being. The new Toa of Ice placed his elbows on the ground and pushed himself up effortlessly; clearly, he still had the agility and limberness of a gymnast and a free runner, so at least he wasn't learning how to use his body all over again.

 

He reached instinctively for his daggers, only to find that they were gone, replaced by - dear God, those were ice axes. Like the mountain climbers used in Ko-Wahi. The Sanctum Guardsman couldn't have plucked them from the ground faster as his pianist's fingers gripped the tools tightly and examined them. The outer blades were just as sharp as the Toa of Ice himself, and the inside edges of the weapons had little shark-teeth shaped serrated edges that made them amazing for climbing or performing acrobatics. Stannis had been right about another thing, it appeared: someone up there really, really loved him.

 

Korero said something, but what, Reordin couldn't hear; as he turned to observe the Toa of Air, he saw six Rahkshi leap out from seemingly the bowels of the earth, directly under the Suva. Scratch that bit about someone up there loving him. No, wait; don't scratch it. These axes were too cool to be coincidence.

 

"You know," he muttered to himself, before stopping and repeating himself just to hear his new voice, "sometimes it really blows being a Chosen One."

 

-Tyler

Edited January 20, 2013 by Marlon Brando

[Franco]

IC: Eyes open. Sight's back. Standing slightly, left arm doesn't feel anything.

 

(What happened?)

 

Look around.

 

Obelisk's black again. Everyone's bigger now, with different weaponry. Reordin says something and I nod. Nothing's changed but us. Good.

 

I look at myself. Armor is simplified plate. Standing I'm nearly twice my old size. My musculature is giant, but I feel much better about it than when I was smaller, and a quick flex of the arm shows that my guess is right. I'm more graceful in a linear kind of way. My design is rugged, like before, just aesthetic with it. The prosthetic turned into a long and reinforced spade starting at the elbow I can take off. Looking in it, my mask is bigger, but military as the rest of me. It's like I'm metal re-forged to make a tool, straight and made of an alloy made for use.

 

In the Ussalry, we practiced trying to make ourselves steel with rigorous regimens and iron discipline. Yet I look at my arm, deadly and made beautiful in metal, not feeling, and I see I don't need to try anymore...My body is made out of steel.

 

We're gonna win. Yeah. Maybe I'll let the emotion go. What does it matter how I feel? We have this covered. Talk away.

 

(What if Destiny doesn't say you're gonna win?)

 

What Destiny? We didn't just happen to get here. We've toiled for this, fought together, and we've gotten somewhere like that. That's how we got the stones. That's how we're here right now. I know it.

 

(What about the fact that the stone didn't react to Lepidran even though he toiled just as much as the others?)

 

That's just an outlier. Sometimes, stuff like that happens. But it wasn't that big. No fate did that. I know it.

 

(What about the way that when you needed to get to the Islets, you just happened to find a boat?)

 

A coincidence. We were moving towards the beach; boats could be anywhere. I know-

 

(What about the way that when you needed to find Onua's stone, it just so happened that the jellyfish were friendly?)

 

No. No. Chance. I know...

 

(What about the way that when you needed to unite with Stannis, he just so happened to find you in the sprawling jungle of Le-Wahi?)

 

No. I...

 

(What about the way that when you needed an ally, things just so happened that Joske crashed into your camp?)

 

I...

 

My senses kick away the train of thought. Something's off. The corner of my vision catches the obelisk moving, and there's a deep grating sound. Rahks are peering out of the gloom. Ambuscade.

 

I feel the calm settle over me and the words rattle off. It's almost like last time. But something's different. Transforming, it was like I was reforged. This is like the purified blade being tested, blacksmith checking to make sure it's in fighting condition. I'm going to pass that test.

 

Because I think I'm gonna win.

 

Right. No time for introspection. Not now, not ever.

 

Rahkshi. Negotiation-out of question. Fight, or flight? Surrounded. Fight.Number-six. Strong, fast, tough. Power unknown. Flight. Staff. Threat level: Maximum.

 

I reach back and grab the Telerahkstaff. Widen stance for maximum stability. Plant one end in the ground behind me, feel the Earth pulsing to meet my heartbeat beneath my feet, and drop my left arm to my side for a guard.

 

Ready.

Edited January 20, 2013 by Jerry Renault

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: Stannis couldn't just ease his essence stone into the niche provided for it; it was too heavy and fell in quickly with a quiet thud at the same time as the others. Stannis exhaled deeply as he dropped the rock. For him, this was more than a transformation into a toa, this was a new beginning. Gone would be the days of Stannis the intrepid Pa-Matoran in search of greatness in others, come would be the age of the great Toa of Stone to hunt the shadows. It was a rebirth, and like a baby coming from its womb he wanted to have his first breath be a gasp of fresh air in his new body.

 

I will be the Wanderer no more.

 

The bright light from the Suva exploded at him as it did the others and washed him in energy like the soft waves of a Ga-Wahi surf. He could not see anything but the light even as he closed his eyes, the power still burned into him but without feeling. He could sense a growing trickle of liquid that flowed from his crown to his feet, as if Mata Nui poured a vial of oil on his head. He could vaguely sense his inner heat dim until it was drowned out by the smooth oil.

 

I am a Matoran of Plasma no more.

 

The warm oil gave him precious heat, electrified by crackling energy that flared through him, filling his body with power. He could feel himself grow, feel his muscles tense and bulge in hot chase of the armor that popped into being like motor treads emerging into sight, filling the gaps created between flesh and armor as soon as it was there. The entire metamorphosis tickled him as the lightning flowed in his veins but it was far from something he despised, the sensation gave him an orgasmic euphoria and he opened his arms out wide to the side as if basking in the warmth of the transformation. Finally, the sensation stopped. The energy didn't flow back to the stone or the Suva but instead remained in him, a part of him. Forever.

 

I am Stannis, Toa of Stone.

 

He looked at himself when his sight returned. The shelf of the shrine was now below him and the huge hive seemed smaller than it was before. His body, once mottled orange and grey, was suddenly a melding of black and brown. He relaxed his arms to his sides and felt himself, feeling the new grooves in his body and curiously investigating his new form without hesitation. His old silver still remained at his joints, a reminder of who he once was in body. He felt his hips, strong and thin, elegant in appearance, and then his chest, ribbed and armored, before feeling his face. His old Kanohi Hau still adorned his head and the old gauges and scratched remained on its surface, but under them he could feel his face fundamentally changed. Indeed, Stannis' once-plain face was rugged and handsome with a set of prominent and intriguing cheekbones that framed a granite jaw. Suddenly remembering his spears, he reached for his back and felt a staff, but it was grooved, different than his old ones, and it was alone now. Withdrawing the weapon he suddenly saw what his Antrim-gifted ebony heartwood spears had transformed into: A long-poled lochaber axe with a trapezoidal blade at the head with etched details all through the weapon. He twirled the tool, feeling a sense of familiarity in the shaft and an awe-inspiring power in the blade. Indeed, it felt like it could shatter mountains and cit through rock like water.

 

And I am a captain of Mata Nui.

 

"Korero...?" a woman -- Leah-- said, clearly amazed and euphoric. "We're...we're Toa!"

 

Stannis looked at the others at last. They were all perfect edifices of Destiny, carved from molten power themselves. Stannis looked at each and every one and gave them a solid single nod of approval and took them in turn, though some of the team had toppled over from the metamorphosis. Stannis, it seemed, was the first to have his sight returned and the only one to bask in the energy of the transformation, the only one to still stand completely upright in ready anticipation for it all.

 

Though not a wanderer I am still a Prophet.

 

A soft grating sound rumbled before him and his sharp eyes quickly caught sight of the change in the Suva. A rectangle was carved from the black stone as if it were being hewed before their very eyes by an unseen carver, and Stannis delighted in seeing this portion of the prophesy again materlialize in a spectacular fashion. It caved in and revealed a gaping hole that led to immeasurably subterranean depths just under the words Hidden Lines -- though even those words seemed to erase and reconfigure themselves into a new word, and it read-- Suddenly, from the shadows sprung its sons, Rahkshi six to fight the heroes anew, first one and then the rest, that quickly spread out and chose their targets.

 

And I will fight for my God.

 

Stannis, as a Po-Toa, was chosen by the Guurahk of the six Rahkshi for representing Creation. It quickly scampered into a position just outside of his weapon's farthest reach. Stannis glared at the vile creature as it seemed to observe him, take his image in and investigate the person's weakness. Stannis did not flinch even as it screeched at him, like a predator trying to scare its prey to show fault. Stannis' gaze wafted from the Rahkshi to the other toa as they all took positions to fight the new Rahkshi threat. But as he traced his eyes back to the Guu~ they stopped at the shrine. The words, previously being altered, had changed into a single new word: Maru.

 

Reordin cracked a witty remark, but Stannis didn't listen. The word "Maru" echoed in his mind.

 

We are the Toa Maru.

 

"Rahkshi," he said, staring back at the creature in a voice as cold as a piece of gneiss left under a Ko-Wahi glacier for a century, "You have no idea who you are fighting, do you?" He gave a chilling cackle at the son of darkness. "I am Stannis, Toa of Stone and chief of the Toa Maru, the Wanderer of Mata Nui and Prophet in His Name." He spun the weapon in his fingers with deft grace and then held its blade over his shoulder like a sledge hammer. "I am the Granite Paladin and these are my friends.

 

"Feel our righteous fury!"

 

He slammed the head of his tool to the ground before him and a streak of stone shot in the floor itself like a torpedo just under the surface of water, leaving a trail on the floor it never grazed. The ground shook with the force of the unseen projectile and then the ground itself exploded under the Guu~'s feet as a brick of brown rock emerged and slammed the creature with all the power of a charging Kikanalo's tusk.

Edited January 20, 2013 by Daenerys Targaryen

[Snelly]

IC: Skyra - Gukko Force HQ -

 

"Then we shall conclude our discussion tomorrow at this hour," Koropaki said, rising from his chair. "Thank you for listening and your consideration. I shall be on my way. Skyra."

 

Well this was just great, it seemed no matter what Kongu decided strive would follow. I sighed as Koropaki shut the door and was long gone....for now. At the very least nothing had been signed yet. Personally I was still rather against the whole thing, but still, it wasn't my call to make, all I could do was offer advice and give Kongu my support.

 

"As he said, we'll fight-finish tomorrow," the Captain said, "But while we're both here, I feel that time has quick-come to fly-back to business"

 

Oh yeah...business, that darn old thing... I knew what was coming....

 

Kongu's tone was now neutral and professional, while it had not been a day since Matau's funeral, things were simply moving too quickly for the Captain to mourn. The faster they got a handle on things again, the greater chance they would have in the likely event of the assassinations precluding something worse.

 

"Are you ready for debriefing, Commander Skyra?" Kongu said not with a strict tone, but with a tone of encouragement, "I've long-missed your service, and I want us both on the same flax-page"

 

Yeah I figured it as much...

 

There was no avoiding it or getting around it now, when Matau had died I'd completely forgotten about debriefing, reports, and all that other nasty stuff.

 

Though Kongu was right, we need to be on the same....flax-page.

 

I took a deep breath almost unconsciously as I prepared myself, there was a lot to go over, and I wasn't sure how much Kongu knew about my adventurers...and misadventures across the island. Sure I'd sent to occasion report via the amazing mail system that Le-koro had. Having the largest air force on the island had many advantages in that regard. Though really I'd sent the bare minimum amount of reports required, and they'd also been rather vague on my activities. Between looking for those Chronicler's Company clues, hunting Vidar, fighting pirates, one encounter with a group of Rahkshi, the list goes on, they're had only been so much room for me to write.

 

"Yes, I'm ready." I said, sitting down in one of the chairs in the office, I realized there would be a heck of a lot to say and I'd already been standing for quite some time. Kongu sat down likewise.

 

And so I waited for Kongu to shoot out his first few questions, most likely he'd start off where the details of my adventures became vague, with was probably rather early on. I knew I'd have to say some rather lengthily explanations for a lot of the things I'd done, and there were naturally a couple things I wasn't looking forward to answering. But that was the nature of a debriefing.

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

As the Rahkshi swiftly picked out their opponents, Korero found him face to face with a purple Rahkshi. The creature practically oozed deadly power, and Korero backed away a few paces. Fear tugged at his mind - but then he remembered: it wasn't their destiny to die today. They were destined to defeat Makuta. A few Rahkshi were hardly going to get in the -

 

Korero's train of thought was interrupted when the Rahkshi took a swing at him, bringing its bladed staff scything round. Thinking quickly, he bent his legs, feeling suppleness and energy tense his new muscles, and sprang into a jump.

 

"Mata Nui!" he whooped in exhilaration. The jump hadn't just taken him the few feet he needed to evade the Rahkshi's staff: he'd catapulted himself fully three metres into the air. He landed in a slightly clumsy crouch, just in time for the Rahkshi to resume its attack. The staff stabbed; Korero dodged, narrowly missing the blade. Another stab; he jumped backwards, stumbling a little - he still wasn't quite used to this new body. The purple Rahkshi swung its staff back and up in an arc, bringing it down at Korero's off-balance form like a battleaxe. The new Toa of Air brought up his shield just in time, and the staff bounced off with a clang of metal on metal.

 

Korero got back to his feet, shifting his weight as he stood like a boxer waiting for the next punch.

 

"Come on!" he jibed at the Son of Makuta. "Can't you do better than that?"

 

As if in reply, the Rahkshi opened its segmented mouth - and screamed.

 

Pure sonic fury shrieked out of the Rahkshi's mouth and ripped through Korero's brain. Crying out in agony, he clapped his hands over his ears, screwing up his eyes in a vain attempt to shut out the agonising sound. He staggered backwards, doubling over as the Rahkshi continued its relentless aural assault. The pain was like a thousand daggers tearing through his head.

 

In desperation, Korero reached out instinctively into something within, something primal and new and raw: his elemental powers.

 

A wall of wind rippled out from Korero, slamming outwards in all directions, an elemental blast like a cornered animal lashing out, not discriminating between friend or foe. The Rahkshi was thrown backwards by the force of it and for a moment, Korero just knelt there, grateful that the pain had stopped. But when the ringing in his ears subsided, he snapped his eyes back open and realised with horror what he'd just done - had his friends as well as his enemy been caught in the blast?

[Void Emissary]

IC: Plagia - Jungle

 

Hm, professor eh? That had sort of a nice ring to it, I have to admit.

 

"Hey man," I said, putting on a winning smile, "Anything to boost my ego."

 

Stabilizing myself on the branch, I gave a quick glance downwards to check my trajectory, before looking back over at Kehuri and Naru.

 

"And now, presenting, the fantastic flying skills of PLAGIA SIMUL!" I shouted, immediately leaping off of the platform into the open air.

 

Wind whizzed past my mask, and I flipped in mid-flight so that my feet were headed straight to earth.

 

Within moments, I hit the ground, and I leaned forwards, pushing off the ground into a perfect roll forwards--

 

--into a log, resulting in my body being positioned so that my feet were now facing skywards.

 

"Eh," I managed to say, "Try not to hit things, though. Y'know, y'all look really funny upside-down..."

 

-Void

[sunflower]

IC: Naru

 

The Toa of Plasma laughed, and moved to help the Toa of Lighting from the log. Naru was amazed at the impressive display of acrobatics, never able to do such things herself as a result of all her knives. Well, now was as good a time as any to learn. Maybe she could lighten up a bit on the weapons, not carry so many around. That might help her be a bit more moble in a fight. "Fairly good advice," she commented, grinning, "For just about anything."

[Franco]

IC: The rahks split up. Stannis takes one, shouting as he uses his element. A metallic black and brown one steps in front of me, distance of five meters. Staff is unknown one with crosses on each end.

 

We look at each other. It doesn't make a sound, just stands there. It'd be a statue but for flaring red eyes. I stay totally still and tick down the seconds: 3...4...5. The Earth does under me, too, but it's relaxed under my blade for a quick draw and hard under my feet for quick movement. I think a little and it slowly, really slowly, flexes as we stare at each other. The litter of broken weapons and armor and the refuse of carrion is slowly swallowed. A path is being cleared. An open field is best for me, so I force the Earth to make the ruins so.

 

30...32...33...34.

 

It's off. Skittering around my right, trying to flank me and drive towards my torso. I move at the same time towards its left. We swerve in a circle, and I ready to disarm it with a slice-

 

-And then the air picks us up.

 

There's no time for the Earth to clutch me. I push its fingers away, keeping it immobile. Which means that I go tumbling up. Keep the staff in the air, away from myself. Check to make sure nothing's flying by that could hit me.

 

The rahk's out of vision. Oreius is going by, and I give him a little nod as my eyes move on. Debris everywhere. My backpack with rahkshi staff in tow is about six meters away. Can't get it. And there's my belt with pistol, pickaxe, and knife at two meters. I can get it.

 

I aim. Calculate. Belt's faster than me because it's lighter and smaller. Belt's not static, flexible. I need 1/3 meter of space in the belt to slide in staff and hook. Alright. FIRE.

 

I throw out the rahkstaff. My arm unfurls; as soon as the polearm follows to a meter of the target, I shift grips down the handle. The head flies through the open belt, snagging cleanly. Score.

 

But there's no time to withdraw. .3 seconds, crash back onto land with the bruising of my thorax. .6, the rahk is on me again, back and with staff plunging for my kanohi.

Edited January 21, 2013 by Jerry Renault

[ARROW404]

IC: Kehuri

"Except fighting," he said in response to Naru, "Hitting things- or people- helps a lot in that case." He stepped over to Plagia and held out a hand, "Need a hand?" He figured she wouldn't, but hey, couldn't hurt to be courteous. "Professor Plagia." He added.

Edited January 21, 2013 by Marius Pontmercy

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Reordin had seen Rahkshi once before in his life, at the Hive battle: then, they had all been Rahkshi of Teleportation, uniform, so that they could be easily pinpointed. This group of Makuta's foot soldiers was distinctly more varied, and no two powers looked to be the same after a cursory glance of the armor and positioning. One, a Rahkshi colored deep red with primal looking streaks of gold, jumped at Reordin, who instinctively dodged under and to the left of the attack, swinging up one of his new serrated axes and trying to hook the creature's chestplate so he could rip it off and destroy the unguarded Rahkshi more easily.

 

No dice: the metal scraped the edge of the Rahkshi's armor, and a small, thin layer of ice instinctively coated the armor, only for it to dissipate and sizzle into random droplets of water as the Rahkshi - Ice Resistance, the Toa of Ice noted grimly - spun around and hissed at him. The sound was guttural and ugly to the very ears; every instinct in Reordin's body cried out against it as the sound faded away not-so-gently into the air around the duel. Last time he had felled a Rahkshi, there had been a Nui-Rama present, and he had tossed a bomb onto the creature's staff so as to destroy it with a concussive force it couldn't possibly dodge. There was no such like here: they had killed all the Rama and used all the bombs.

 

Yeah. Definitely sucks being Chosen sometimes.

 

-Tyler

[Vezok's Friend]

IC:

 

Out of the group of attackers, a black Rahkshi with white highlights shrieked and launched itself at Leah, staff raised high, as if about to cleave her in two. She didn't think her element in that moment, instead launching herself intinctively into a reverese jump-roll that carried her a full meter away from her attacker. As soon as she came out of the roll she pushed up with her hands, executing two consecutive backflips before landing on her feet safely.

 

Whoa, talk about new moves...she thought for a second, amazed at her new body's capabilities. The Rahkshi hissed angrily at her, having missed its first chance to strike her down. But it didn't immediately attack again, instead studying Leah, who slowly twirled her staff back and forth, ready to hit at any second. They began to circle each other like Muaka, the Rahkshi moving with powerful mechanical steps while Leah's footfall was light, her motions elegant and flowing.

A clicking noise came from the Rahkshi's Kraata, apparently their equivalent of growling, as it stared at her with fierce red eyes. The disgusting sound sent a shiver down the Toa's spine. Leah looked back, remembering the Rahkshi at the hive-battle and comparing that knowledge to what she saw before her. The neck and abdomen were rather flexible in their design, to give the Rahkshi their deadly agility and, as a result, not as well-armoured as the carapace protecting the slug inside. Except to get to either, she would have to make it past a sharp staff and two sets of teeth, one mechanical and one bilogical.

 

Suddenly the Rahkshi hissed and whirled its staff. Leah brought up her own, expecting the son of Makuta to try and launch itself at her, but instead she was suddenly swept of her feet by a whirlwind that had appeared out of nowhere, a mini-cyclone summoned by her opponent. Coinicidentally, it happened at the same time as Korero let loose with a blast of air from his own, which Leah didn't even notice while in mid-air. She landed hard on her back and the Rahkshi was on her in a second, bringing its staff down. Leah blocked it with her own tool which brought up just in time to block the deadly attack, the Bo-staff interlocking between the prongs of the Rahkshi-staff. The monster leaned forward, trying to force the staff further down, but Leah found, although it took a great amount of strength, that she could hold off the Rahkshi for the moment. That, on the other hand, seemed determined to force its way to a quick kill. It had the Toa on her back, it was standing over her, all it needed to do was overpower her and its staff would pierce through her, ending this threat before it could really begin.

 

Slowly, the sharp prongs moved closer to her heartlight. Leah focused on the tip of the staff for a moment, then looked back up at the Rahkshi. And found she wasn't afraid. Tense yes, but not afraid. Maybe it was the fact that the transformation had happened less than five minutes ago, maybe it was the fact that she didn't know the full extent of her powers, but something in her was determined to show this thing, show the others and show Mata-Nui that she was worthy of the gifts bestowed upon her. I have not travelled all over this Island through challenges and darkness, only to come back here and be done in by you know, Makuta; not in my Wahi!

 

Something deep inside her stirred, something powerful and wild, like ocean-waves in a storm. She opened her right fist, still pressing her staff up with her palm and looked the Rahkshi dead in the eyes.

 

"You're in my home."

 

The next second, she unleahsed her element for the first time. An explosion of water, right from the palm of her hand, hit the Rahkshi at full force, hurling it backwards and away from her. Leah herself suddenly found herself drenched as well, but that wasn't a problem. She quickly got back to her feet, drops of water clinging to her as she brought her staff up once more to face the Cyclone-Rahkshi.

 

------------------------------------------------

 

 

The trip had not taken very long, but under the circumstances, it could have been a lot shorter for Kohra. Only now did they reach the coast of Le-Wahi. Kohra was the first out of the boat, helping to push it onto the beach, Ronkshou joining her a few seconds later. They had just finished with that, when both suddenly got an angry thought-impulse from their master. Images of a black Obelisk flashed through her mind and suddenly Kohra knew where they had to go...and that they were to late to stop the prophecy before it could even begin to be fulfilled. The Matoran had already transformed. She turned and looked at Ronkshou. His eyes said the same as hers, he had seen the same images. They both nodded once, then broke into a jogging run, into the jungle, to do their masters bidding.

[otter]

IC-Lashev:

 

"Sisk," Lashev said, piping up for a moment and pulling the Le-Matoran back where the others couldn't hear him, "Why do I have the odd feeling that Verdi's crush isn't ever going to like him again?" He scratched his chin for a moment, then shrugged. "It's like she fell for another Sanctum Guard, but...ah, well, probably just me being drunk. How do we get rid of this Cultured Gentry guy again?"

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

The Rahkshi sprung forward like a Slinky, with inhuman speed that Reordin hadn't been expecting; if it had not been for natural agility and his new weapons, he would have been slammed directly in the forehead by the blunt middle portion of his foe's staff and then promptly impaled; as it was, Reordin hooked one blade over and one under, catching the staff with just the right amount of leverage. The Toa of Ice twirled expertly to the left, trying to knock the staff out of the Rahkshi's hands, but the creature shrieked out and kicked forward into his chest, sending him sprawling and tossing his axes to the side.

 

The son of Makuta advanced forward with a hideous shriek, regaining its hold on his staff and twirling it menacingly as it advanced on Reordin; the Sanctum Guardsman waited, biding his time until the creature was close enough to him, before reaching out and grabbing one of his axes, twirling it and slicing open the back of the Rahkshi's leg with the serrated edge. The vile duelist hissed in anger and turned away from him a second, long enough for Reordin to grab his other weapon and go in to block the wild staff swing with his left arm and go for a cut to the chest with the right--

 

WHAM!

 

Reordin was met with a fist to the heartlight as the Rahkshi ducked under his swing and swung upwards furiously, sending him flying. This time, his weapons were out of reach, lodged in the swamp about a foot outside his armspan, and the Rahkshi - which had learned its lesson about giving Reordin his space - darted forward, swinging its staff menacingly and going to stab through the Toa of Ice's chest...

 

-Tyler

[Franco]

IC: I block the staff with my left arm. This angle doesn't give me enough leverage to parry. Instead, the arm is locked, and it's starting to fall back. Shovel's being pushed onto my face. Right above eyes. The rahkshi opens its mouth and gives me a saw-toothed smile.

 

I reel in the rahkstaff, grab the pickaxe from the belt, and slam it into the back of the grinning carapace. It spasms. Staff flies around mechanically, and I pull away my fingers just before it cuts the handle off. Then its eyes fade and close. Downed.

 

I slide out from under the body and get up. Look around. I can help the others finish off their rahks now.

 

Reordin, caught, about to be skewered on a lunging rahk's staff. Too far to run. But I don't need to be there to help.

 

"Reordin!," I call. He doesn't need to turn to know it's me, know what I'm about to do, know that he needs to get the timing and positioning exact to follow up.

 

I grab the belt. My right arm rips off the knife. My left holds everything else, clocks up backwards as I position as a pitcher with foot slightly behind, then step forwards and toss Reordin the gun and its bullets. He can get it. I turn away and look for someone else to help.

 

And then there's the whistling of limbs in the air behind me. I turn. Left arm comes up in time to block the staff. Right doesn't for the kick to the chest, and I'm in air again.

Edited January 22, 2013 by Jerry Renault

[shadow pridak money gang]

IC:

 

Time slowed to a crawl: like space junk, like the looming black obelisk in front of them, the Rahkshi staff made its move to drop down. No fragments of memory flashed before the enigmatic blue screens, custom designed to fit the cinema of Reordin's face: his life did not sprint by before his eyes, and there was no time for final prayers. There was only--

 

"Reordin!"

 

The sound of something being unsheathed and tossed roared through the slow time bubble around the Toa of Ice and his opponent like a jet plane, or an explosion; there was no time for a mid-battle tactics change, no time to question what was being thrown at him. Reordin's only impulse was to roll to the right suddenly, kicking into the good leg of the Rahkshi as he did so. It faltered for a second, recovering its balance. That was all the Toa needed to catch the object Sulov had thrown at him: the gun, coupled with its clip. Reordin grinned to himself as he turned his attention to the Rahkshi, advancing towards him with a shriek--

 

BANG BANG BANG!

 

In one fluid motion, the soldier had loaded the pistol and brought it up above his head, firing three times into the underside of the Rahkshi's jaw and up into its mouth. Time picked up again all at once, the slow-motion effect of the previous seconds not but memory; the Kraata was obliterated by the bullets, the armor left without drive, and Reordin holstered the pistol and moved for his ice axes, spinning them around to clean the swamp gunk off them. The Rahkshi's armor was promptly decapitated to prevent any chance of it coming back, as the Toa of Ice had seen Sulov's opponent do out of the corner of his eye, and the head was chucked into the air, soaring, soaring, soaring...

 

THUNK!

 

The sound of a shriek, as the Quick Healing Rahkshi turned to look for the source of the projectile that had hit it in the side of the head. Upon seeing the grinning Reordin, and the decapitated body of the Ice Resistance Rahkshi, it snarled and moved forward, towards Reordin and the now-standing Sulov...

 

-Tyler

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

Korero sighed in relief to see that he hadn't harmed his teammates, but it was short-lived as the Power-Scream Rahkshi was back on its feet and advancing on him. Raising his hand to try to tap into his new-found powers, he shot a more focussed and directed stream of air at the Rahkshi, hoping to blast it back into the obelisk.

 

But alas, to no avail; it countered with another scream, which met the wind blast halfway and held the elemental attack at a standstill. Both combatants struggled to overcome the other's power, but neither could gain the upper hand and eventually they both stopped in unison. Korero paused to catch his breath - using these powers wasn't easy - but the Rahkshi was relentless and quickly pressed an advantage. A swing from the flat of its staff knocked Korero off-balance, and another sent him staggering backwards to fall against one of the hexagonal pillars of the ruined hive.

 

He looked up to see the Rahkshi slowly approaching, with the menacing air of a hunter that knows its prey it caught. Desperately, Korero swept his arm left-to-right, and his shield detached and shot spinning away, missing the Rahkshi by over 45 degrees. The creature chittered as if in amusement, before closing the final few steps and raising its staff for a killing stroke -

 

But before it could deliver its deadly stab, Korero's shield slammed into its back.

 

The razor-sharp bladed edges sheared through its carapace like a knife through butter, slicing the Kraata cleanly in two. The Rahkshi collapsed as Korero picked himself up and retrieved his shield, stamping one foot on the dead Rahkshi for leverage as he heaved the tool from where it was embedded in its back.

 

I...he thought, I just killed a Rahkshi!

 

Looking around, he saw Reordin slaying his own opponent.

 

"Two down!" he shouted.

Edited January 21, 2013 by Illusive Ghosthands

[Void Emissary]

IC: Plagia - Jungle

 

Pushing myself back into a seated position, I took Kehuri's proffered hand, before climbing to my feet. Absently brushing a few clumps of dirt and moss from my armour, I quickly checked that both of my swords were still in their sheathes; if they had slipped out, the results could've been...well, I should've taken them out before I jumped.

 

"Good point there, both of you," I said, suddenly adopting a ridiculously stereotypical 'professor' accent, "Full marks, and no homework for the rest of the week!"

 

-Void

 

 

[sunflower]

IC: Naru

 

The Toa of Plasma snorted at the overly rediculous accent that Plagia had taken on. "Whew, good thing, my homework assignment just kind of... went up in flames," Naru said, grinning slightly. A short burst of plasma accompanied her comment, and she took on an expression of mock surprise and embarrassment.

 

"Oops."

[ARROW404]

IC: Kehuri

The Toa of Earth's heart skipped a beat as Plagia took his hand and he realized with dismay that he was getting flustered again. He chuckled good-naturedly at Plagia's joke, and added a "badum-tss" to Naru's. He was glad his two teammates were so easy to get along with.

 

He glanced up into the trees, "Oops! Our guide isn't waiting for us!" On that note, to took off after her, calling back, "I'd propose a race, but I know I'd lose!"

[Vezok's Friend]

IC:

 

If there ever was a time when it payed off to know how to use a staff, it was now. The Rahkshi was up and at it again after the water had slammed it into the ground hard enough to break off one of the spines on its back, but didn't do much more damage than that. Leah knew it was mostly because of her being new to using an element to fight; and right now, though the blast had felt as natural as anything she had ever done, she couldn't control these powers to a degree yet, where she could trust in them completely to win the fight.

 

It was time to get physical. The Toa and Rahkshi relentlessly tried to get the better of each other, the son of Makuta fiercly trying to power its way through Leah's defenses, while she parried and exploited any opening she could find expertly after years of training. There! A gap in the Rahkshi's defense appeared. She whirled the staff in one hand until it was level, grabbed it with the other hand thrust forward. the Rahkshi hissed and sidestepped, rbinging up its staff and deflecting her move, her staff narrowly missing her opponents armoured head. Leah cursed mentally. She had underestimated the reaction and now she was open. She pulled back her weapon, but the Rahkshi already was moving, swinging at her, the bladed staff aiming for the center of her torso. She barely managed to block the attack with her Toa-tool, but the staff was at such an awkward angle that the impact made her drop it. The Rahkshi swung again and Leah dropped to all fours, the Rahkshi's weapon hitting empty air.

 

Leah didn't hesitate and launched herself at the creature immediately. With two powerful steps she raced forward, her low angle of attack allowing her to dive under the Rahkshi's arms and tackled the darned thing to the ground. But she only managed to land one solid punch against the side of the head of it before a kick to the gut thre her off her oponent again and she landed on her back. The Rahkshi let out a terrible screeching cry and summoned its powers once more, a sudden whirlwind picking her up and tossing her around like a ragdoll. She briefly lost orientation as she was lifted off her feet and hurled backwards, only to regain it just in time to see a tree in her way. Her left side erupted in pain as she hit the trunk hard, only to drop down a meter to the ground. Ignoring the dull throbbing in her side she climbed to her knees. The Rahkshi was about thirty feet away, hissing at her. And between her and her opponent, lay her staff. Suddenly, the Rahkshi took flight, folding up its legs and racing at her, determined to run the Toa of water through and pin her to the tree.

 

Leah pushed herself away from the ground with both feet and hands like a track runner and sprinted for her staff, right in the direction of the oncoming Rahkshi. She only had a split-second time-frame to make this work. Timing it just right, Leah jumped into a forward roll that covered the distance between her and her staff, grabbing it on the move, coming up again with the staff aimed forward and up just as the Rahkshi reached her, staff held in an outstretched arm, ready to swing at her. Using all the forward momentum she could and knowing the Rahkshi was speeding in the exact opposite direction, Leah thrust her staff upwards. It shot up past the Rahkshi's knee as the creature flew by, impaling it right through the throat from below, along with the Kraata inside. Her momentum carried her further up, making her throw the Rahkshi back in the direction it had come from. It slid off the end of her staff with a wet, slurping sound and collapsed on the ground, thick, smelly liquid leaking from every opening of the headplates, which also voered the end of Leah's staff.

 

After a deep breath, leah turned to help the others, in time to see Sulov toss Reordin his gun and the Toa of ice dispatching his opponent with haste. Korero had also dealt with his Rahkshi and called out: "Three down!"

The exclamation suddenly hit Leah. Three down...she had beaten a Rahkshi in a straight-up fight. Just a day ago, the mere idea would have been ludicrous. If she had encountered a Rahkshi yesterday her only instinct would have been to run, yet here she was, the servant of Makuta only an empty shell at her feet.

 

It felt good.

 

-------------------------------------------------

 

IC:

 

"Huh?" Sisk asked, surprised by Lashev's sudden change of topic. He been watching as Koropaki left the captains office while Kongu addressed Skyra and had not paid attention to Verdi or the others.

 

"What do speak-mean? Leah?" he asked, startled. "I think she well-likes him just fine; she's away-out of town somewhere...and why do you strange-speak of crushes and falling?"

Edited January 22, 2013 by Vezok's Friend

[Franco]

IC: Contact's with a crackle. Armor clacks on metal, shattering it, and it feels like there's liquid as well. Corner of my eye shows decomposing rama parts. Around me's a pile of dead. Right ahead is the rahk in flight mode charging; note: Power-Regeneration. Arsenal out but for arm and knife. No Earth.

 

I flick open the sheath and draw the knife. Hand angle at 45 degree slash, parry staff. The attack rebounds, good. The knife shatters. Bad.

 

Dung, dung, dung, dung, dung. Arsenal empty. Earth's nowhere nearby. Rahk is jabbing again. I can block with my left arm. I can grapple with the right. Back to wall, neither can hold for long. I need a weapon. A way to blacksmith up something like my metaphor earlier.

 

But Earth isn't Iron. I can't make weapons out of metal. What can Earthcrafters make? Tunnels, jars of dirt, pottery.

 

Pottery makes tools. Just of ceramics. Right.

 

An image flashes in my mind. The edge of a blade and the tip of a spike, thick but not with metal, sharp but not with steel. The hand.

 

(Transmutation begins with the step of specification. Why is this an end to means? Visualize that. Crystallize an ideal into a thought.)

 

I retreat. Step back into the dead, let the rahkshi fly at me. My left arm is moving in tune to what I think. Each movement touches nothing, but in the Earth at the end of the bodies, cuts become lines and jabs points on a Cartesian plane of soil.

 

Another image. The head of an axe. Reinforcing the edge with strength borne of form other than alloy, weighting it with toughened matter to bring it down. The arm.

 

(Step two of transmutation is production. How is the end achieved, with what means is it brought about? Realize that. Incarnate the crystallized ideal.)

 

The rahkshi swerves to follow me. I'm leading it towards the edge of the corpses, slogging along. Slowed, though. It's catching up. I reach down and throw a rama at it, buying time as it flies around. My left arm is still drawing lines in the dirt. Now the lines gleam with something other than black ground.

 

One more thought in my mind's eye. A long haft of purpose, a girder excepting metal. The body.

 

(The final step of transmutation is definition. What are the means and end combined? Absolutize that. Meld ideal and incarnation.)

 

20 meters before Regenerative hits me. I'm stepping through the maze of debris quickly as I can without tripping. But it's not going to be quick enough to hit ground in time.

 

15 meters. My left arm is flying into linear strokes. A punch here, a hammer there, a cleave here.

 

10 meters. Visualize, Realize, Absolutize. My being is that and that is my shovel.

 

5 meters. The Earth is rushing up. My mind gestures to it as the beginning of an end to the work, crushes it to a liquid pond of humus in which the sketch-made-sculpture awaits.

 

0 meters. The staff flies at me. And my soul flies out in return.

 

The left arm has stopped before my chest. But the right arm reaches out from my body. And the Earth reaches back. From the sea of material comprising the field's floor, dripping grains of black dirt, rises a halberd. Its edge is cutting ceramic, its head of earthenware reinforced with compacted dirt, and its pole of toughened soil.

 

My hand clasps the polearm. The rahkshi batters at my other arm, and I let it give way. I let myself fall back, I let it increase the space between us for its final strike because it thinks I could stab it again if it gets too close and is assured I can't know. And then I stop letting it attack and swing the halberd right into its back. The kraata screeches, letting me know it's been bifurcated so I can pull out the blade before it hits the skeleton and chips. Its mechanical body spasms, so I punch away its staff and arms. Then I grab the wriggling halves of the slug as they try to regenerate and slice them with my blades. First into fourths, then eighths, followed by sixteenths. Throw the cubes to the carrion-feeders and the swamp. They can't regenerate in that environment with so much consumption and destruction of organics.

 

I step out of the muck and back to the field. Look around. Leah, Korero, Reordin are fine. Others?

Edited January 22, 2013 by Jerry Renault

[otter]

IC-Lashev:

 

"Ah, nothing," Lashev said, waving off the question. "Probably just the drink talking, but I just can't shake the feeling that Verdi's unrequited love is going to remain unrequited from now on."

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: Stannis was suddenly astonished by the power he felt surging through him. Having the energy of the Suva rain on him before was amazing, but this -- this was incredible. To feel the raw force of nature channel through one's body, ejected and manipulated before one's eyes, felt as if it was an extension of one's body... it was a glorifying feeling, one Stannis never had felt before. It was surreal. No longer was he a helpless prophet who scrurried to and fro in constant fear of an enemy, no longer was he a mere tool of fate. He was the chisel before, but now he was the hammer.

 

He hefted his weapon back up from the ground and tossed it up then caught it in a better grip. The other toa were doing their own battles; he was not concerned with their fights. After all, most of the members were once soldiers... and Stannis was no exception. His eyes homed in on the Rahkshi as it settled back to the ground on its two feet, then he charged at it.

 

The monster raised its staff up to block Stannis' weapon -- block, Stannis realized, not attack. The two staffs struck with a crack, a kinetic strike that alerted Stannis of his own raw strength as even the Rahkshi broke its footing from the blow. Stannis roared, quietly at first, then louder, as he strained to press his weight and power on the crossed weapons, pushing the Guu~ back another step, and then another, but understood that he wouldn't accomplish anything with this strategy. Suddenly, he slid his halberd down until its blade caught the Guurahk's staff and he almost tore it away, but the Son of Makuta was able to maintain its grip on the weapon, then slid it to the side and extricated it from the lock.

 

Stannis took the opportunity to reach his hand back where he was before and feel for the lump of stone he conjured before. He felt it, like a ball at the end of a lacrosse stick, lingering within his reach as he lifted it into the air. The Rahkshi hissed curiously and tilted its ugly head, as if wondering what the toa was up to. "Yip-y-kay-ay, shadowspawn," Stannis murmured as he yanked on the stone with his mind and pulled it like a rocket at himself without looking, then jumped aside to allow the projectile to shatter the Rahkshi's armor into dust. He deftly leaped to the right and landed in a crouch as the stone missed him, heading right for the Rahkshi.

 

"Hisssss??"

 

ga-FWOOM

 

Stannis rolled back up suddenly not knowing what to expect -- that didn't sound like armor falling like glitter. The Rahkshi still stood as before, only... its staff! One of the points was fading, as if it had glowed from energy an instant before. The stone was nowhere in sight and Stannis could not sense it. No. This Rahkshi had disintegrated it. Stannis readied for another take on the creature, thinking of a new avenue to strike, and then he--

 

Argh! What's that sound!?

 

An earsplitting sonic wave washed over him, a malignant energy that scoured his ears like a thousand needles. He risked a look back at the others around the Suva. Korero was fighting a Rahkshi that seemed like it had just screamed. Power scream! Stannis thought in recognition. And then he payed the price for the distraction. The Guurahk swung its staff and swiped Stannis' weapon from his loosened grip. Abruptly deprived of his weapon, he needed to act quickly. Already, the Rahkshi prepared to... No wait, it was doing it. Without reverence to the toa's position, he unceremoniously kicked him in the chest and threw the Toa of Stone back.

 

Stannis fell to the earth with a dull thud, crashing through a few rahi skeletons as he did, and promptly rolled away to evade the Guurahk's staff, though as he did so he realized the weapon's point was not the biggest thing to be wary of. A purple cone of energy spouted like a shotgun blast from the staff's tip and burned into the space Stannis occupied mere seconds before, smashing the skeletons like they were never there. As quickly as he could, Stannis got back to his feet and stared at the Rahkshi.

 

They locked eyes once again and the creature repeated its curious hiss and tilt of head. Stannis glared into those red slitted eyes like they were a spyglass, a window into the monster's soul. And what he saw was emptiness. There was no soul, just pure malevolence that stared right back at him through vermillion slots. The monster couldn't tell who it was looking at, let alone comprehend what immense importance Stannis help in the great fabric of destiny. No, the creature was ignorant to all these things, it was a mere messenger, an omen. But even so, Stannis could get lost in those eyes.

 

Lost in the red. Lost in the memories that came flooding back.

 

They reminded him of a time long gone when he was just a simple Ta-Koro Guard warrant officer on patrol duty in the lava rivers. It seemed like routine stuff, but he was assigned the job because of his resistance to heat that surpassed his Ta-Matoran peers that allowed him to go more easily where others had difficulty. He was supposed to just check on a report of some Onu-Matoran miners who had somehow tunneled all the way to the rivers and became entrapped by lava. His only company was his sword and his spear. He eventually found the miners, but they were all dead, killed by tainted rahi. Stannis heard a sound behind him and he spun to face the threat, weapons at the ready, and found himself staring face-to-face with a--

 

a--

 

a monster of evil. Eyes narrow, red with blood, fangs and claws already proven useful for the fight. These slits reminded him of that moment.

 

Stannis hated being reminded of that.

 

Stannis also seemed to be prone to lose his weapons at seemingly inopportune moments. This Rahkshi may have thought it had the upper hand, that it was lording over a weakened toa, that it could have been smug, if it knew what that word meant at all. But Stannis had a different appraisal of the situation. Without hesitation he bolted at the Rahkshi with all the vivacity of a crumbling cliffside and swung his arms with intense power. He seized the cautious Rahkshi's staff with his hands and didn't even try to remove it from the creature's grasp, instead simply rending it in two pieces with a resonating SNAP.

 

Suddenly, the primal creature's features snapped in alarm at the abrupt equality in weapons. But the Toa Maru wasn't done yet. He slid the broken sticks out of the monster's hands and tossed them aside (they were useless now) and then turned his hands up to the Rahkshi's skull. Yes, Stannis was very used to losing his weapons in a fight, almost as good as he was at improvising with what he had around him. He placed his string hands around the Rahkshi's head -- it hissed in protest and tried to flail its thin arms to rid of the menace -- as if holding a cradled baby up to the heavens and then

 

Cracksnap--CRUNCH!!!

 

he tore it away. The eyes dimmed to black and the foul hiss faded to silence, only to be replaced by another screech from the kraata's head that suddenly revealed itself from the crumbling carapace. It slithered from the broken shell and streaked for Stannis like a bolt of lightning, quick and determined to infect his mask in a final act of retaliation. Stannis merely chucked the disembodied Rahkshi's head at it and struck it before settling his large foot on the skull, squishing the Kraata beneath the armor piece without letting the ooze touch his body. It sounded wet and spongy as his heel ground it into the ground with disdain, finally ending the pathetic Rahkshi's existence.

 

He walked over and collected his halberd before turning back to the others. Already four other Rahkshi had been defeated, leaving only one left and not a casualty on their side. It was a fantastic day to be a Chosen indeed.

Edited January 22, 2013 by Daenerys Targaryen

[Eyru]

IC (Oreius)

 

The stone slid from Oreius' grasp into the slot, fitting perfectly, clicking into place as though it had been carved for that specific notch in the Suva, and none other. For a moment, nothing happened. The Ta-Matoran stood there, his mind empty, listening to the wind whistle through the leaves far above. There was no other sound.

 

Then the Stone began to glow, as it had done so many times before. It had glowed when it had Chosen him; he remembered the crimson light spilling through his fingers when Takua had placed the precious stone in his hands. It had shone to lead them when they had sought Onua's Stone; its light had been their compass and their guide. It had shone, too, when it seemed Oreius and Stannis had, at long last, been cornered by Makuta. It had blazed with the fire of the sun, and had burnt away the fear and ice that had held the Ta-Matoran still.

 

The red light had always signified movement and change. It was fitting: the soul of fire was found in movement. In action. Whereas stone and ice were the elements of sentinels, content to stand watch and act as fortresses, fire was not patient. Like Toa Tahu, the First Toa of Fire, it leapt and attacked and moved, shaping the world around it, burning away stagnation and waste.

 

Kapura's voice echoed from deep within his memories.

 

“Courage is the soul of movement.”

 

It was Oreius' courage that had led him here, to this black obelisk, to accept his destiny and the fate of the world. It was his determination to keep moving, keep fighting, no matter the odds, to protect his home at any cost. It was his courage that had proved him worthy of the fire of Tahu.

 

The scarlet light became brighter, mixing with the hues of the other Stones, creating a rainbow of coloured light that grew more intense until Oreius was forced to shut his eyes. He felt the brightness on his eyelids.

 

The blinding light grew ever brighter, until the whole world seemed as bright as the sun, painfully white. And that was the moment when everything changed.

 

Throughout their journey, Oreius had idly wondered what becoming a Toa would feel like. Would it be an unpleasant stretching or pulling? Would his new body burst out of his armour? Would it be uncomfortable or painful?

 

It was none of these things. Instead, the Ta-Matoran became aware of an odd sensation travelling over his body. It felt almost as though someone had poured water over his head, and the warm water was trickling down his body, alive with energy, almost like liquid electricity, as though the Stone's crimson light had become physical, and filled him to the brim and over, spilling down his body. It made him recall his stay in Ga-Koro, where he had taught himself to swim. He remembered how, after finishing his last lap, he would pull himself out of the water and feel it running off his body, cleansing and pure.

 

This sensation was similar, only stronger, hotter, and accompanied not by pain or discomfort, but by a pleasant tingling sensation that covered and filled him, changing him from the inside out.

 

***

 

When the light faded along with the sensations, Oreius opened his eyes.

 

He stood where he had before, but that was the only thing that hadn't changed. Instead of looking directly at the Essence Stone's niche, he was now several feet taller; the slot was below him.

 

The Suva Nui, that black obelisk, looked much smaller than it had only a few moments before. Oreius' eyes followed it up to its peak, then continued above it, taking in the remains of the Rama hive in which he stood. The hive, too, seemed smaller. With his perspective having changed, the entire world seemed to have shifted.

 

Changed, too, were his companions. Some of them stood; others had fallen over from the shock of their transformation, but all were now Toa. Reordin was now tall and lean, his armour a blinding, icy white. Leah's green body had changed to the blue of the sea on a summer's day; she was built gracefully. Korero's armour, too, had shifted colours: the Ko-Matoran was now the green of jungle foliage.

 

Sulov was a mountain of a Toa; his armour was black as the caves beneath the island, and his eyes glowed green. Stannis stood tall and strong, like a living statue, his features precisely carved; he carried a polearm in one hand.

 

And Oreius himself... well, he had changed too.

 

He looked at his hands; they were the last thing he had seen before his transformation. They were bigger, of course, and stronger: the hands of a warrior, and they gently gripped two beautiful swords, sister blades without flaw. His gaze followed along his arms, and examined his chest, waist, legs and feet. His colour scheme was somewhat changed; as though Tahu's fire had been poured directly into his body, the black and red of his armour had been replaced by red and orange, mimicking the colours of burning flames.

 

Altogether, he was taller and stronger, but those were only the physical changes.

 

His body felt alive as it never had before, as though a current of energy were running just beneath his skin. His muscles tingled with power; he wrapped his fingers more tightly around the hilts of his swords, and marvelled at how light they were. As a Matoran, one of these blades would have sufficed for a weapon; as a Toa, it was like they weighed nothing at all.

 

The others began to laugh and talk excitedly as they examined their new forms, revelling in the sensation of nigh-unlimited energy flowing through their veins. But Oreius did not speak; he remained silent, and instead directed his thoughts inward.

 

Inu?

 

A voice answered, but it was not the voice he was used to. As a Matoran, communicating with Inu had been a matter of speaking in images and sensations, and translating those into words that he could understand. The art of conversing had become easier with practice, but it was still occasionally clumsy, as translating sometimes could be.

 

This voice still spoke in pictures and emotions; it still whispered with sights and sounds and smells and tastes. But the process of translation was gone. Instead of working to understand Inu, Oreius simply knew what he was saying. It was as though he were hearing his own thoughts; the intention behind them was plain.

 

I am here.

 

Inu's voice was glad, even relieved. Neither of them had known, after all, what the effects of the transformation would be. Though neither of them had explicitly said it, both had wondered if the Stone's power would only be given to Oreius, violently ripping the parakuka from his spine as his form expanded.

 

But that hadn't happened. Instead, the two beings seemed to have grown even closer together. Oreius reached over his shoulder, feeling at his back; where before his fingers would have met the chitinous carapace of the parakuka, now he only felt his own armour. Inu seemed to have fused with him, giving him a slight hunch, but nothing else by which anyone would know that there were two beings in this body, not just one.

 

Their minds, too, had joined even more tightly. Their thoughts were clear to each other; communicating no longer required translation or even much effort at all.

 

This is amazing.

 

Inu's familiar warmth blossomed in agreement, but their rejoicing was cut short by a terrible screech. Oreius abruptly withdrew from his mind and looked around in surprise, and, with a burst of adrenaline and uneasy fear, saw six Rahkshi climb out of the Suva Nui.

 

The chitinous creatures hissed and shook their spines; an ominous rattling filled the burnt remains of the Hive. The monsters quickly split up and each facing an individual Toa. Oreius, ever the soldier, immediately recognized the strategy in this move: the Company's elements were easily identifiable by their colours; the Rahkshi's powers, on the other hand, were an enigma. They could pick whichever Toa they had the biggest advantage over.

 

The Rahkshi that chose Oreius as its target was a light aquamarine. It carried a staff, as all the Rahkshi did, that was topped at either end with wicked-looking blades that glinted in the sunlight, razor-sharp. It hissed menacingly.

 

Oreius dropped into a guarded stance, his swords raised and at the ready; they felt like extensions of his body. He kept his eyes on the Rahkshi, waiting for a movement, ready to counter any attack the creature might make.

 

In the back of his mind, the Toa of Fire was aware of Inu's reaction to the Rahkshi's presence; the parakuka was both friendly and hostile, fighting between his knowledge that the creatures were killers and had come to kill him and his host, and his natural instincts that recognized the Rahkshi as brothers.

 

Oreius did his best to shut these instincts out; he couldn't afford to let his guard down for even a second in the battle to come. Tales of the Rahkshi's terrible might had circulated the island long before the attack on the Nui-Rama Hive; they were cold and merciless, and strong as three Toa together.

 

The Company had the power of the First Toa on their side, but they were inexperienced, and only minutes old as Toa. Their skills as Matoran would have to be adapted on the fly to fit their new bodies, and they would have to figure out how to use their elemental abilities as soon as possi-

 

The Rahkshi struck, a terrible screech tearing from its fanged mouth as it leapt for Oreius, swinging its bladed weapon with inhuman speed and strength. The staff whistled through the air, and the Toa of Fire only just managed to dodge it, leaping backwards out of instinct more than anything.

 

The son of Makuta continued its assault, spinning its staff around and striking again, trying to catch Oreius off guard. This time, the Toa managed to catch the blade with his swords, the steel sparking, but even with his new strength, the Rahkshi flung him back with apparent ease.

 

The Toa stumbled backwards; as a Matoran he would have turned the attack into a backwards roll, or some other defensive manoeuvre getting him out of the way quickly, but with his new body, he found himself merely stepping backwards, doing his best to transform the momentum into cohesive movement instead of falling flat on his back. If he did that, it was as good as game over.

 

The Rahkshi followed up, this time swinging its staff overhead for a powerful downwards strike. Off-balance and flustered, Oreius forgot his training and simply swiped at thin air, his sword not coming anywhere near the monster.

 

When Takua had said that the Essence Stone might contain ghosts of the First Toa's personality, it seemed he had guessed right. The moment Oreius simply acted instead of thinking, he realized how to activate his powers.

 

It wasn't difficult; it was almost laughably easy. The power was there, waiting to be used. All the Toa had to do was use it. He didn't have to push it out, or force anything to happen. All he had to do was let it out.

 

As his sword slashed an invisible line through the air, Oreius simply opened the floodgates, channelling the energy in his veins through the steel of his sword. The sword wasn't a source of his power, but it was a conduit, and it sucked the energy out of his body, slicing a line of fire through the air.

 

The horizontal arc of fire blasted out from the Toa, catching the Rahkshi mid-strike and carrying it backwards through the air. The creature hit the ground hard, but merely shook itself and got to its feet, the flames on its armour dying out almost immediately, leaving not even a single burn mark. Its red eyes flashed, and it hissed viciously. Maybe it was because of Inu, but Oreius half thought he could understand what the Rahkshi was saying.

 

And it wasn't very appropriate.

 

The Rahkshi is resistant to heat, Inu said cautiously. Your fire will not harm it.

 

Oreius nodded mentally in response. That put a damper on things, but, even so, the Toa's attack had levelled the playing field. Even if he couldn't burn the Rahkshi, he had proved that his attacks could still connect, giving him some space. The two opponents faced each other again, weapons at the ready once more, when a savage scream ripped through the air.

 

The Toa gasped in pain; the Rahkshi, on the other hand, seemed immune to its brother's powers, and advanced, pressing its advantage. Oreius pushed through the pain, and managed to block its attack again, but instead of staying on the defensive, he pressed the staff to the side with one of his blades and slashed at the Rahkshi with the other.

 

The blade bit into the creature's leg; the Rahkshi screeched and pushed Oreius back back again. This time, however, the Toa used the momentum to his advantage, and spun to the side. His battle strategy as a Matoran had always been to use his speed and size against his opponents; he wasn't much smaller than the Rahkshi now, but the same plan of attack could still apply. The faster he moved, the more hits he could land, and the less hits the Rahkshi could accurately aim at him.

 

The creature, after all, was brandishing a long, unwieldy staff, not very effective for close-quarters combat, as Oreius was already demonstrating. Spinning to the side, he slashed twice more at the monster; the first scored a shallow cut, but the Rahkshi turned in time to block the second, its hateful eyes flaring. Having deflected the attack with one end of its staff, it spun the other end around, faster than thought, and struck at Oreius, only for the Toa to catch the blow on his crossed swords.

 

The two opponents struggled there for a long moment, pressing against each other. Oreius' swords were crossed in an X-shape, with the staff in the centre. Slowly, but surely, the Rahkshi began to push the Toa backwards, leaning over him, forcing him down, towards the ground. As strong as his new body was, the Rahkshi was stronger.

 

Oreius, Inu said, his voice quivering with battle-lust. You cannot defeat him without me.

 

Sweat dripped off the Toa of Fire's brow; he gritted his teeth as he pushed with all his might against the son of Makuta.

 

Do it.

 

The golden warmth of Inu's presence exploded in Oreius' mind; the joy of battle filled the Toa, twisting his mouth into a determined smile even as the Rahkshi pushed him down. The warmth coursed through his limbs like liquid fire as the parakuka activated, releasing his reserves of energy. Oreius felt his limbs swell and lengthen with new power; he felt his muscles expand, pushing at his armour; there was a moment of discomfort and then it was gone, and he saw the world with new eyes.

 

He felt stronger, faster, more powerful. The Rahkshi had shoved him down onto one knee, but its strength no longer seemed as great as it had. It was just another opponent to beat; this was just another battle to win.

 

With a bellow of rage that rivalled the Rahkshi's screams of hate, Oreius stood to his feet, pushing the creature back as easily as if it were a Matoran trying to hold them down. The Rahkshi hissed in surprise, but by then the Toa was already gone.

 

They streaked around to the side, circling the Rahkshi, their speed rivalling that of a Kakama user's. The monster turned to defend itself, but it was too late- a parakuka-enhanced punch knocked it to the side; a second threw it off balance; a third sent it sprawling.

 

Before the Rahkshi could even think of defending itself, Oreius and Inu were on top of it, throwing blow after blow at the creature's face. The chitinous suit of armour began to crumple under the assault; the Rahkshi reached with its claws to do something, anything to stop the attack, but the Toa simply grabbed each arm at the shoulder, and, with a barbaric snarl, simply ripped the limbs from their sockets before returning to their task of utterly destroying the suit of armour.

 

The head of the Rahkshi was now nothing more than a twisted, crushed lump of metal; Inu and Oreius turned their attention to the body. Jumping to their feet, they began to stomp on the carapace; the kraata managed to shriek once before it was crushed, squirting blood and pulverized flesh out of the mashed armour.

 

Oreius and Inu were the last Toa to defeat their Rahkshi, but they didn't care or even notice. Their attention was on completely subduing this opponent. Snarling with all the fury of a Muaka, they tore at the shattered exoskeleton, ripping it apart piece by piece and scattering them across the clearing.

 

Gradually, the fog began to clear from their brain. The two were now one, more so than they ever had been before, and it was intoxicating, but Oreius became aware that Inu was beginning to pull away, sounding a warning in his mind.

 

We need... stop... too much energy...

 

The transformation started in reverse as the parakuka reeled his influence back in. The Toa's limbs shrank, bringing them back to normal Toa height. Though they hadn't realized it, they had been standing hunched over, elongated arms ending in razor claws at nearly touched the ground, similar, in a way, to the stance of a lava ape.

 

Then, in a rush of energy and colour, Oreius' mind was his own again. He managed to look around once, see that the others had also dealt with their Rahkshi, before he crumpled to his knees in them midst of the remains of the Rahkshi he had just slain, a wave of exhaustion rolling over his body.

 

“We- we're fine,” he managed between gasps, before his companions could worry themselves. “Just... just tired.”

 

He bent over, putting his head below his heart, pulling in breath after breath until his pulse slowed. When he opened his eyes, he was staring at the crumpled remains of the Rahkshi head, its eyes now lifeless and blank.

 

We... we did it, he thought. We killed a Rahkshi!

 

Yes, Inu replied, his voice still buzzing with the thrill of battle and of victory.

 

We are the real hunter.

[- JL -]

OOC: Hmm.

 

Lets try this.....

 

IC: JL

 

20 minutes ago.....

 

Sword tied to his back, along with a small backpack, JL walked across the dry docks. He was tired, he was lazy, and most of all, he just wanted some time with himself. He needed to think something over, real quick. Heading over to one of the merchant ships travelling from the jungle to the land of volcanoes, he asked for a ride. But by then, his tongue had already gotten tied.

 

No social skills at all. "Um....." JL said to the captain, who was ordering the others around hastily, "Could I hitch a ride? I hear you're heading for the docks closest to Ta-Koro." He half-smiled, cheekily, but he wasn't even confident enough to talk with his full voice. Embarrassment rose to his face, but luckily, the sun was setting; the red skies cast a crimson light upon him, so whatever blushing he had, even behind his Anxilia, would be hidden.

 

Oh, his Anxilia. Asleep, right now. JL would talk to Reyna later.

 

The captain, a large but not at all overweight matoran, barely raised an eye to the Toa. "Yer gunna haff ta' speak up, mate!" He said to JL, whose nervous smile widened even more. "What ya' got fer payment?"

 

Slowly, JL plopped his backpack down, and opened it, lifting out a small bag of widgets, and piece of cloth wrapped around the object. The captain took both, first weighing the widgets, which he then placed into his pocket, and then winced as the smell from the clothed object reached his nose. "Eh, yuk! Tha' heck is this?" Unwrapping it, he was greeted with the sight of something disgusting. It was rotten from age, and smelled like ####. But he recognized the design. A slug. Kraata.

 

"Where'd you get this from, Toa?" He said in slight respect, "A mighty Toa like you shouldn't be having to depend on us!"

 

JL shook his head, even as the last of the light from the sun disappeared behind the horizon far to the west, past the edge of the sea. "I wish....I'm just a nobody."

 

===

 

In the present.....

 

 

A lone Toa of Lightning sat on the railing of a small wooden boat. He'd rented it, and would be leaving when it arrived on the closest pier to Ta-Koro. The Captain of the ship, a matoran, had at first asked for the Toa to give tales of heroics he had performed, even ordering a feast on this night of nights, which all the sailors cheered for. But the Toa had - ironically - declined the offer, but encouraged them all to have a party below decks. He had requested peace and privacy, and the captain, believing the Toa had quite a 'status', reluctantly agreed to his request.

 

He gazed up, into the sky, and stretched, yawning. It had been quite a while since he had relaxed like this, a cold wind blowing him, keeping him cool but not making him feel uncomfortably cold. His sword lay beside him, a trusty companion. His Anxilia was silent, watching what he was doing, but offering no crazy advice.

 

Anxilia. A sentient mask. JL didn't know where he managed to get such a blessing, because he desperately needed a companion. Why? Insanity. Insanity could be described as many things, but JL described it as this - doing the exact same thing, over...and over...and over again. And expecting it to change.

And that was what he did. The same thing, over and over again, each time hoping for something new, hoping to have a positive change. But no, this was no longer about luck, about karma. JL knew it. Now, he needed to do something differently, and if not, he'd be insane. Reyna helped. Reyna, a...female Arthron. Anxilia of the Toa of Lightning, JL. Even as he thought to himself, silently, JL looked into the sky. And he could always remind himself with a single fact, something that he, as a youngster (And still was a youngster, now that he thought about it), used to give confidence to himself.

 

The lights in the sky are stars.

 

* * *

The Lights in the sky are Stars. But why? Even now, these stars guide the sailors whom I share a vessel with. And yet, they can't guide me. I look at the red star, and I think, why don't you just zap me? Why don't you just use lightning, my own power, to kill me? You don't....so obviously, I have a reason to live, right? People talk about Destiny, and Fate, and yet I feel my path isn't just not set in stone; It's in a whirlpool, going in circles until one day, I'll get sucked so deep I won't be able to come back up. I'll drown, and no matter how strong I am, how powerful I swim, how skilled my kicks are, how much of it I can electrify without killing myself, I'll sink, deeper and deeper until I hit rock bottom.

 

And when that happens, I will welcome death. I will welcome it...but I am afraid. That when that they comes, I will have sunk so much that I won't even lay my own blade on my own throat.

 

I fear death. I fear it all.

 

But I keep telling myself, that I have to pick myself up. Why? Is it because others do it? Is it because of fear, or determination? Is it because I have a dream, or is it because I want to survive? Because I don't want to sink into that vortex of darkness?

 

I....

 

I don't know what to think.

 

I can't see the future. No one can, and should be allowed to. But...if I could, would I? I mean, I'm here contemplating what to do with my life, right? So if I could glimpse the future...would I? Can I?

 

...No. I won't. I've learned enough. I remember, in a distant memory, a teacher. He was a dual-wielding Toa of Fire. His name was Merror and he was in pain. I could see it. And I am too. Is this what it feels like, to feel loss? To feel like there is nothing you can ever do for anything you can ever want? I....I'm directionless. Is that why I am falling? I can't find a way back out. I WANT to find it....but I doubt myself.

 

Come on, JL. The lights in the sky are stars. Trust yourself!

 

A long time ago, somebody said that. And I used it. But then, on the fateful day I met Merror, and Pirok, and all those others at the Kini-Nui.....I look back on it and see that I was retarded. Full retard. Arrogance, Ignorance, that wasn't the meaning of trusting yourself. I mistook it.

 

Down into Le-Wahi, the village of Le-Koro, was probably the fail of my life. Tamaru died; Echelon did it. That Toa of Scumitism, and his undead buds. I....back during that fight. Every attack I sent, he blocked. I literally sent my own sword flying into a lake! I was stupid. I sucked. Yet, I told myself I didn't. But it wasn't through..confidence. It was arrogance. Ignorance. I act like a 10 year old playing a game, acting like they are the best, getting defeated, and then getting angry and completely ignoring the defeat. Back in that fight, against Echelon and Vidar, was it? Makuta's favorite left and right hands. I wonder what he does with them in private. But....

 

We lost. Tamaru died. Reasoning: I was the weak link.

 

No other reason. I...I see now. First, I have to take responsibility. And then, I have to make a move. Just do it....?

 

It repeated. Merror and Pirok, 2 Fate users whose names are forever burned in my memory...just left. I joined others, arrogantly believing myself to have skill, and somehow lost. I guess my confident got down, and so I ignorantly, arrogantly, denied any help and picked myself up. In the wrong way.

 

I have to do something, but I don't know what. But now....the way is clearer. I think....I know what I have to do.

 

Here's what I want. I want to pick myself up. And I want to get better. Better than anyone else at anything. I want power, so I can make a difference. But first, I have to take a step forwards. For the past months, I've literally been lying to myself, over and over, saying, "I'm better at this and that!" and when I wasn't, "Your fault! Your fault! His fault! Her fault!". I think that has to change. Or else I am going insane.....and I don't want to.

 

At first, I would want a group of people following me. Now, I want to follow a group of people. At first, I wanted medals handed to me. Now, I want to just bask in the knowledge that I achieved something. Medals are useless; true achievement is in the heart, isn't it?

 

I need to take responsibility. This battle of good and evil....I....I already have a direction! That's right!

 

Deep in my heart, there is always a shadow. Always. But I have a direction, and it says to always keep the shadow in check. Never use it. Through the light I will find friends, find companionship, and face the darkness. In the light I will finally receive my legs, I will stand up, and I will take my step. And acknowledging the light, I will began my journey anew. A year ago I stood atop the Kini-Nui. I even remember what I told to Merror and the others there: I said I wanted a prize of victory. I said I wanted to slay some Rahi and bring it as prizes. Be hailed as a hero. First thing Merror said was, I was wrong. Rahi were beings whose free will had been suppressed by the darkness.

 

His words, and countless many others, have taught me. On that path, I learned. I experienced, and now I am at the end of it. That path told me...what path to take. That journey allowed me to, slowly but surely, unveil the curtain that covered the direction that I needed to go. And now that I see it, I realize it has been in front of me, all the time.

 

Friends. Family. Relationships. All those are part of the light, and even the shadow has it.

 

I suck at it. Maybe I've made 1 or 2 friends, but everyone I've met has just about ditched me on the spot. I am weak. I wasn't worthy. But I hoped that would change just by itself. Now I know, that I am the captain of my soul. Not Fate, not Destiny. Me.

 

I control myself, and Destiny is my guide. The Lights in the sky are stars, but only with my will can they shine bright.

 

My name is JL, and from today onwards, I will change. My Hubris, I will exchange for pride, true pride. My arrogance, I will exchange for modesty.

 

* * *

The Toa of Lightning stood up, and gripped his sword. Electric-blue light started emanating from the sword, and the Toa of Lightning ran his eyes across it. Suddenly, a burst of sparks, and there was a female made purely of electric-blue light.

 

 

So, JL. Where to now?

I think it's time we joined the party. How about that?

Sounds good to me!

 

The Toa of Lightning decided it was time. The Captain had decided to hold a party on this night of nights, and JL felt honored, and a bit prideful, but as he walked down the steps, he wasn't there to boast about his heroics, but to share his sorrowful stories.

 

His name is JL, and tomorrow will be a new day for him.

 

OOC: Please, take some time to read this! It's probably my first post that I also consider legit, so feedback would be great!

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: The last of the Rahkshi was slain as Stannis looked back at the rest of the team; Oreius laid down a fierce beatdown of savage power, wrapped up just when the prophet's eyes rested on his body. His mind flitted back to the book he read in Onewa's library, the hastily-assembled but still comprehensive study of the sluglike beings.

 

... A Parakuka has the ability to grant its host power and speed rivaling the effects of a Pakari and Kakama combined. Inu has told me that these effects will last all of ten minutes, after which the host would die from strain. The exertion and the draining are proportionally equal in such cases...

 

Oreius was not a thick-muscled man, even as a toa, but what Stannis saw was a transformation from a powerful beast of a man that settled down into the normal body he had seen after the metamorphosis from Matoran to Toa. Yes, Oreius still carried Inu; yes, that smackdown was enhanced. Somehow, the Parakuka was housed within Oreius' armor now, a clever concealment device, though now as Stannis was more studious in his peer he could tell the Ta-Toa had a slight bowing of his back. Destiny oft worked in mysterious ways, indeed.

 

Destiny, the fair maiden, he remembered; he was Unity. "Six down!" he called out, signalling the close of battle. Still, weapons were not put away. Sulov and Reordin still were on high alert, looking in all directions like a mirrored lighthouse that scanned the horizon both ways. Leah seemed to still be prepared, as was her training, while Korero seemed euphoric at his toa-heroicness and Oreius panted, exhausted from the outburst. Stannis walked over to the toa of fire and patted him on the shoulder. "Good job," he said softly to both he and Inu.

 

"... I... don't sense any immediate danger," Stannis declared. "There will be no fighting for a while." At first his words did not soften the mood any, seeming like more destiny-jabber from a mouth that often left listeners perplexed, but one by one the guards of the team remembered the last time Stannis keener senses had helped; the attack on the fishing village was a danger already recognized by the Wanderer long before the threat was realized. And while the assurance that there were no threats to be brought to bear on them did not stifle the other guards' habits, their tools were still put away and their stances relaxed. Stannis stepped over to the Suva and peered down the long, dark shaft that stretched into unseen infinity within the bowels of the earth.

 

"Those Rahkshi were waiting for us. The Makuta knows we have transformed now. He knows that the prophesy is being fulfilled. I don't think they were meant to stop us as much as simply serve as a tripwire alarm for the Darkness," Stannis surmised, his voice dim to the other toa as it seemed swallowed by the hole. His curiosity in the nothingness sated, he looked back up at the obelisk and admired it again. MARU. He reached out and placed his hand on the word, feeling the etchings that were made as if by magic. Everything had a meaning, he knew.

 

"And this stone has given us more than a new life and enemies, it has given us an identity."

[Ghosthands]

IC (Korero)

 

"Toa Maru..." Korero mused, taking his place beside Stannis to study the obelisk. "Mata Nui has truly been kind to us."

 

He chuckled.

 

"He's even saved us the bother of coming up with a team-name!"

 

The new Toa Maru of Air pulled out his notebook, licked the end of the charcoal stylus, and began a simplified sketch of their Suva. Korero made special care to show the elaborate carvings on the black stone, pleased by the motion of his graceful and precise new hands and fingers. He noticed some of the others looking in interest at his book.

 

"It's my notebook," he said by way of explanation, almost apologetically. "I use it to record the things I find and the events I witness. It's no Book of Chronicles, but it does the job..."

[Franco]

IC: I walk back to the others. Needed to wash up, so I gave Reordin word, checked to make sure Stannis is keeping watch, and went to the nearest river. Dried in humus.

 

Thought a little. Seems like I'm thinking with all the large words, the ones I didn't know before. And there's another voice in my head. I guess it's Onua. The intelligent one--there, see? Big words. Suppose it's not bad, though, so I just go back to watching.

 

Closer, the others don't seem to be saying much. I check their body language. All positioned idly, almost waiting for something. No better time for what I planned to do a bit back. I'll enact it.

 

"Stannis," I say, as I walk forwards, moving through the larger gaps between the others until I stand before him. "A word, please."

Edited January 23, 2013 by Jerry Renault

[Void Emissary]

IC: Plagia - Jungle

 

Chuckling softly, I unsheathed one sword before following Kehuri, slicing apart any foliage that hadn't already been crushed by him.

 

-Void

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: "Yes," Stannis said to Korero and nodded with approval, though did not share the same level of humour as Lewa's successor. "It's amazing how planned our lives are." He truly was awed by everything, mentally shocked that Destiny had brought him this far, from Ta-Matoran guard to pondering monk to Wanderer and now, finally, to this sacred place to be a warrior renewed.

 

"Stannis," Sulov said, stepping into the leader's view. "A word, please."

 

Stannis was surprised a little. Despite the work they did Sulov rarely ever spoke a single sentence to Stannis, leaving him enigmatic and distant to the prophet. And now, here, the mountain himself wanted to speak with him directly. The very fact that Sulov even said something was amazing in and of itself, but this... this was supremely unexpected. "Absolutely, Sulov," Stannis replied and gestured for Sulov to lead them aside for private discussion, guessing that's what Sulov wanted.

[Franco]

IC: I walk to outside the burned wreck. Stannis follows, footfalls lighter, with less distance to keep up. We walk on through the familiar sights: The place where I talked with Reordin before we split, the arena of Heuani and his many distant foes, the remains of Darrick Bane and Komisk Runion's last stands against the hordes. I keep going past these. Stannis does not know what happened here or there. It's meaningless to select one just based on event, because this isn't the open Earth I require. Yet one of these places is the one I've been moving towards all along. I stop at the field of my final attack and signal for Stannis to stand a meter in front of me.

 

He arranges himself so. I observe everything in the second it takes him to maneuver. Here 7th, 3rd and 4th, and I charged into the mouths of the nui-rama larvae in order to contain them before they smashed the assault's flank. The charge annihilated the insects instead. The ground has been beaten flat by the pounding gallop of Ussal claws. Debris lies thick on the far sides, it just hasn't returned to this field yet. Silence total. It's not hot or cold out here and the humidity is average. The sun is high in the sky, watching like a big eye. High noon.

 

I look at Stannis. Arms draw taut to sides. I consciously deny the hunchbacked inclination and stand straight, without bowed spine. Feet neatly parallel and tight. He slightly adopts the same formal manner in response. Good. This will be a ceremony...Something he gets in the way Reordin gets logic.

 

"You are my commander, Stannis," I say, resonant and true. "I swear loyalty to your leadership and credence to your will. I offer this as a token witness to my oath."

 

Then I move. My right arm procures the staff. My legs shift, left knee coming forwards to bend at a 90-degree angle and right to support my weight on the ground. My head lowers so my eyes cannot even see Stannis' feet. In this movement, I'll display that my message is earnest.

 

The kneel is our culture's traditional sign of respect. Stoic and laconic, Onu-Matoran typically display their status without words. And so to fall on one's knees before another being is a potent sign of supplication. In prayer before Mata Nui, we kneel, deferring to his greatness. In delivery of report to superiors, we kneel, giving them respect as due their rank. And in last moments before the executioner's axe, we kneel, allowing the punisher to provide death in faith that they shall. We are at our weakest with another's eyes beating down on us and our own incapable of viewing their movement. Similarly, we cannot move quickly with legs on the ground. Faith is shown by so diminishing oneself before another.

 

But there's something else to this kneel. I've brought forth the rahkshi staff and now hold it above my head on both arms. I have been taught in the force that your weapon is your life. Unarmed, there is little defense between a person and attacker. A weapon is useful not just in defense, too; respect is granted to wielders by virtue of arms' intimidation, and even the most military of instruments doubles as a tool for survival in other circumstances. The gift of a weapon is a powerful tool for trust. A provision so capable gives power to fight man to its recipient, and, conversely, gives a measure of responsibility for its quality as that provision to the donor.

 

As this is my last weapon, the meaning of it as a gift is magnified. As it has brought me through many conflicts, its power to confer friendship is doubly so. My kneel further reinforces its power. I have fallen before Stannis at my most vulnerable, crippled and blind, and with my most vital life proffered for him to use as he sees fit. The deed itself isn't so much important as the symbol it creates. This is my utter supplication to him.

 

"Into your hands, lord, I commend my spirit."

[Emzee]

IC: Kongu – Gukko Force HQ

 

“Sky-Commander, I can only mind-draw the number of adventures you’ve been through,” Kongu said, “But at this time, what is most important is whether you possess knowledge that can help our overarching fight against the Makuta”

 

As the Captain said this, he had formulated a list of questions to send Skyra’s way, and he would ask them in order: what is the status of his (or her) old body? What does she know about the Mark Bearers? Any information on Echelon, Vidar, or Ronkshou? Any encounters with other servants of the Makuta?

 

Those were Kongu’s questions for now, and he cleared his throat before asking the first.

 

“How are you an Air-maiden now? Was it chance-encounter with Kanohi Iden?”

 

IC: Ronkshou – Le-Wahi Jungle

 

Ronkshou grimly nodded and jogged through the greenery alongside Kohra. He had no idea what they would do now, and he hoped that the Makuta would not punish them too harshly for their failure. Being but a drone, the Infected Toa felt no fear for his well-being, but he firmly believed that his death would not at all be beneficial to the Makuta, even if the Master of Shadows believed so.

 

Still, neither of them noticed the tall, armored, and cloaked figure trailing far behind them. Despite Ronkshou and Kohra constantly checking for followers, the glory-seeker used his wit and timing to keep his presence hidden from his prey.

 

Tuuli – Le-Koro

 

The trader sat on a wobbly stool alone in his shop. Ash and debris still littered a corner of his hut, though he was glad to see that a couple of workers were now replacing the burned husk of his shop. It had not been long since the Trader’s shop was damaged by the Xa-Koronans, and looking at this mess could only fuel his contempt and disappointment.

 

His head perked up once he heard footsteps coming towards him. Was it another customer?

 

No, it wasn’t merely a customer, it was Koropaki, one of the elders of the Gentry.

 

Despite in his inhibitions, Tuuli forced a wide smile over his noble Rau. It always wanted to project a certain image to the esteemed elder.

 

“What can I help you with, wise one?” the Trader said, rising from his seat.

 

There was a silence for a moment, and Tuuli wasn’t sure what to make of it.

 

“There is a bit of an obstacle,” Koropaki finally said softly, “It seems there are some who don’t want you to recover from your recent… setback”

 

The old but adorned Ko-Matoran gestured towards the door, and Tuuli pensively ran up and locked it putting at “Be Right Back” sign on the front. Tuuli also closed shut the windows, ensuring Koropaki that only they would discuss whatever this “obstacle” was.

[Snelly]

IC: Skyra - Gukko Force HQ -

 

“Sky-Commander, I can only mind-draw the number of adventures you’ve been through,” Kongu said, “But at this time, what is most important is whether you possess knowledge that can help our overarching fight against the Makuta”

 

This rather pleased me, I really hadn't wished to go over absolutely everything I'd done the past year. Just getting to the important stuff was more than fine by me.

 

“How are you an Air-maiden now? Was it chance-encounter with Kanohi Iden?”

 

Oh, we're jumping right into that are we?

 

While I was somewhat relieved this debriefing wasn't going to be quite as lengthy as I previously imagined, Kongu had picked one of the more...sensitive topics. To be quite honest there were very few people I'd ever want to discuss it with in detail if I could help it. Though this was definitely something the Captain should know, and it wasn't like I didn't know it would come up, kind hard not to.

 

"Well, I was fatally wounded while traveling with Merror, as part of his team, I got into a fight with a criminal, and he pushed me into an underground river, I washed up in Naho Bay..." I began, thinking back to when I had washed up in Naho Bay. "I had a large gash in my abdomen, the wound was grievous enough that even a Mask of Healing couldn't have saved me. I was taken to the Ga-koro Hospital by the Marine HQ. The doctor, or at least a Toa who claimed to be a doctor, gave me an option. They had a body with no spirit." I gestured to myself, indicating the body I possessed now. "There was no chance of the previous owner ever returning, they told me she tried to venture into Makuta's liar as a spirit...and never came back." I almost shivered at the thought. "He gave me an Iden, and I used it before my old body took it's last breath." It was weird, telling this story, it was almost as if I was talking about how I died, in a way, it was. "Now, at the time I didn't even know what the body looked like much less that it was...the body of an Air-maiden. If I had known...I might not have gone through with it..."

 

My eyes were a bit moist, I could tell, I mentally scowled myself, I needed to get through this, if this information could somehow be helpful to Kongu then I had to tell him everything I could.

 

"There's um...even more to it actually. The doctor who had me do this well...he wasn't who he said he was. While I was still getting used to my new body he cornered me alone in an abandoned supply room in the hospital. He turned out to be some insane follower of Makuta...or at the very least he'd been hired by one. He had some strange helmet like device...and he claimed he was going to alter my mind, brainwashing, crazy stuff like that, I think he was a complete madman. Thankfully, Merror and another friend of mine found me and managed to help me, and as far as I know that character is still locked away in a cell by the Ga-koro Marines."

 

I paused, the next part of the story was going to be even more unsettling, if that was even possible. "I went to the morgue about a half a day later, to find my old body, I wanted to make sure that crazy madman hadn't done anything to it. Well, it wasn't there." I let this sink in. "The madman...he said somethings about a necromancer...and there is only one necromancer that I know of..." I almost felt afraid to say his name.

 

"...Echelon, I...I think he has my old body. He's the only being on this island I can even imagine wanting it." I paused, my face looked hard and dark. "I try not to think about what he's done with it, or the horrible things he'll use it for..."

[sunflower]

IC: Naru

 

The Toa of Plasma brought up the rear of their strange group, glad that she didn't have to use her elemental power to melt her way through the jungle, like before. No telling what was waiting in the thick mess of trees, and it would be smart to keep some power in reserve. Or atleast, Naru thought it would be a good idea. The orange-armored Toa glanced up into the canopy above them, wiping something off her Faxon's visor. Hopefully, the would make it to the village before nightfall, if not, well, her element was bright enough.

 

Besides, she could make her body glow with her Kanohi. Yeah, she wasn't too keen on doing such things, but if it helped.

[EmperorWhenua]

Ic: Stannis instinctively wanted to tell Sulov to rise and be normal, but something told him to hold himself. No, his inner mentor-leader wanted to raise Sulov as an equal, but what Sulov wanted was a commander. The humility of Sulov was legendary, Stannis understood, and whatever the man of earth did was done with intent borne from the bowels of his heart. That sort of intimacy required a different mindset. To appreciate the charm and weight of the moment Stannis had to reach to the past, both immediate and ancient.

 

This ground was hallowed dirt to the Onu-Toa. It didn't mean much to Stannis; the blood of his friends did not spill here, he did not lose things from the battle, nobody exiled him for attending. To Sulov? ... this was as much a shrine as the monastery on the Massif was to Stannis. The Toa of Stone looked around at the surrounding foliage, imagining it to be the green mossgrass of the Massif, envisioning Sulov to be a villager and himself to be Lord Antrim -- indeed, he and his mentor were now both toa, a reminder of the great ascension he had undergone. By altering his perceived reality into a familiar setting that he could relate to he could understand the level of importance the small move of obeisance meant from his own perspective. But to truly grasp what Sulov was doing he had to look at culture itself.

 

Stannis called Ta-Koro home long before he went to the Massif. It was harsh, militaristic, modern... His senses were dulled by that oppressive atmosphere and the constant routine of service as a guard, but all that meant was that when he left it he was all that more aware of the sudden flush of vivacity around him. When he eventually started to live at the Massif he found himself with other matoran of different villages and he was reminded of the deeply symbolic culture Onu-Matoran shared. Echoes of that knowledge trickled back to his mind as recited to him by a friend of his from the village of earth way back then. He closed his eyes and recalled that time in the small village when his buddy expressed his social mannerisms over a breakfast.

 

 

"We give respect to out greaters by kneeling before them," his old friend said. "Because we don't speak unless needed, our gestures mean all the more to us, and the kneel is one of those things that is about as important as dirty hands. It's especially common in the Ussalry to kneel when giving reports or when being addressed ceremoniously. It's like... like when your kind gives prayer, see -- we believe in the strata of things, we know our place and honor those above us, whether to the Great Spirit, to our masters or, heaven forbid, to our executioner. The kneel is fundamental in all the stages of life. If anyone ever kneels before you... you'd best take it with the heaviest of hearts. The heaviest!"

 

 

The heaviest of hearts. Stannis understood the gesture Sulov made, but then something was added to it. He raised the Rahkshi staff up before Stannis like a disgraced general surrendering his sidearm in supplication and loss. "Into your hands, lord, I commend my spirit," Sulov said.

 

The bloody heaviest of hearts. That staff, that spear, was something that connected with Stannis more than anything else that he had milled through in the moment prior to the offering. The spear was a weapon Stannis carried as part of his arsenal for years as a guard, but then it became an integral part of his personality. He had chosen the spear, the axe, the halberd, the polearm as his own tool as a symbol that continued throughout his life. Sulov, a warrior of pragmatism, was offering his last weapon -- and indeed a trophy he had with him as a supreme badge of honour -- to Stannis, and somehow had rightfully chosen something that meant vast fortunes to Stannis. The offered gift was worth the same to both parties.

 

Stannis laid his hand reverently on the shaft of the Rahk staff and lifted it from Sulov's palms, upraised as if he were in prayer. Stannis suddenly did not feel the urge to give Sulov a long speech of how they were now brothers and he should be seen as an equal, but rather he felt the inner desire to honour Sulov's culture in ways the mountain did not, could not, have expected from his commander. Instead of speaking long and painfully to Sulov, Stannis merely placed his empty hand in Sulov's palm and squeezed firmly, respectfully heartfelt but strong as a leader's hold should be. And then Stannis, unseen to Sulov's bowed head, bowed his own face and hovered it over the clenched hands.

 

All Sulov could feel were a couple drops of water splashing on his hand -- Stannis' tears of joy. The prophet could almost feel Sulov thinking the same thing as he: Thank you.

 

"Brother," Stannis said gently as if waking a child, "let's go." Short. Succinct. Many meanings in one brief phrase. But time was still short and destiny was always moving at a breakneck pace. Their hearts were great, shown as they wept, but they still had destinies to be met; and had miles to go before they slept. Miles to go before they slept.

Edited January 23, 2013 by Daenerys Targaryen