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Bzprpg - Po-Wahi


Friar Tuck

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IC:

 

LoJak breathed in deeply, then exhaled. He'd returned to the desert to think, to figure out what it was he was doing on Mata-Nui. He enjoyed the emptiness and the heat. He pointed his arm into the air and created a large burst of fire, shooting it into the air. Then he shot another, and another. He felt each one sap him of all his pent up energy, and when he was finished he felt like a large weight had been lifted. Weaker yes, but in many ways simpler. It helped him clear his head to think.

 

The people of this Island have lived long enough in fear of Makuta, with no champion to rally behind. Most Toa do little to inspire the Matoran to bear up arms, to live up to the Three Virtues. They bicker amongst themselves, they wander the villages and they refuse to help fight Makuta. They use their powers for personal profit, for pleasure, for anything but the betterment of the people. Heck, up until recently even I was a drunk, using alcohol to forget my duty, my destiny. It must stop.

 

But how? How can I convince enough people to do what's right? I'm a warrior, but not the strongest. I have wits about me, but I'm not the sharpest. And I can talk, but I'm no orator. I am LoJak, a simple Toa with good intentions and a burning fire in my heart. What makes me different from the typical Toa? Not much.

 

LoJak knelt to the ground and sat. The sand was hot, just the way he liked. It reminded him of home, his hut in Ta-Koro back when he was a Matoran. He thought back to that time, the friends he'd had, his success in business and his mistakes. And when he had hesitantly taken the Toa stone that had transformed him into the being he was now. A Turaga had told him to, said that it would inspire confidence in himself and others, in addition to Toa powers.

 

Inspire confidence in himself and others.... Inspiration. Maybe that's the key. I don't have to force others to be better people, or convince them to give up their evil ways. I can inspire them to return to the virtues of Unity, Duty and Destiny. Inspire them with my actions. Teach the people what to do by doing it myself. Like not drinking. Mata-Nui's I've learned to stay away from the drink. Last time I tried some I got drunk for weeks, months maybe, and lost my my way. I forgot my Duty. Yes, yes that's what I'll show people. Temperance. I'll show them nothing but temperance until it rubs off on them and until they return to the way of Mata-Nui and help rid the Island of Makuta. If it helps others, I'll become Temperance incarnate.

 

"But first, first, I'll need to change my appearance. If I'm to do as I've intended, I don't want anyone from the pubs recognizing me. This is a fresh start, for me and for the Island" LoJak said, getting up from off the ground. Standing in the middle of the desert he looked around, his hands to his eyes to shield them from the sun. Now, where's Po-Koro again?

 

---

Nearly two hours later LoJak walked back into town. He made his way to the market, and after bustling, asking a kind old matoran for directions and getting lost only two times, he found himself outside a Kanohi shop. It was in a more expensive area of the market, which made sense considering the rarity of Kanohi, especially Great Ones, on Mata-nui. He walked inside.

 

A matoran stood behind a counter, and LoJak spied him quickly stuffing something into his vest. LoJak approached and leaned on the counter.

 

"How are you doing today?" he asked.

 

"Good, sir. Can I help you find something?" the matoran asked.

 

LoJak smelled alcohol on the matoran's breath. It seemed the Kanohi seller had quite a bit of free time on his hands. But it wasn't LoJak's place to chastise him, not yet. Maybe another time. "Do you have any Great Masks in here? Maybe one that comes in red?"

 

"Ahh, let me check." The matoran began taking stock of his inventory, pulling out a scroll and scanning it slowly. "We don't get many Great Masks in Po-Koro, but if there are any, I'll be sure to have one. Not too sure about a red one though. You can understand, there's not much of a market for those around here. Here we go! I'll be right back." The matoran disapeared into the back area of the shop and returned a minute later with a remarkable, shiny red Iden. "Only red Great Kanohi we got. Little expensive though." He stated the price.

 

"That's thievery! I can get the same thing in Ta-Koro for a quarter the price!"

 

"That may be, but you aren't in Ta-Koro. Tell you what, that a Hau you're wearing?"

 

"No, a Kakama."

 

"Not as popular as a Hau, but I guess it's still worth a lot. Give me your Mask, and however many widgets you have in pockets, and I'll sell you the Iden."

 

"Deal."

 

LoJak took out the widgets and pulled of the Kanohi, handing them over to the Matoran and taking the Iden. He put it on, feeling reinvigorated as its energy spread through his body. He moved his neck from side to side and flexed his arms. Yes, the Mask felt about right."If you don't mind?" he asked.

 

"Of course not."

 

LoJak law down on the floor and activated his new Mask. He felt a brief moment of warmth, and suddenly he was floating a foot above the ground, upright. He looked down and saw his body, lying peacefully as if asleep. Nodding in approval, he flew back towards his body and entered it. With his Spirit and Body combined again LoJak stood up, thanked the shopkeeper and left. He began walking towards Ta-Koro.

 

ooc: LoJak to Onu Wahi

Edited by Toa Fanixe

Quiz by TheQuizzery.com

 

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You are strong and kinda smart, but not too much

Which Barraki are you?

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IC: (Valria)

 

"Right. Wish I had my cloak, might have helped to block some of this from getting in my armor." Valria sighed as she walked down the path with the group. "Are we stopping in Po-Koro or are we heading straight into Onu-Wahi?" Since Kaiapo was leading the group at this point it seemed, it was up to him where they went next.

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Ic:

“Weaken the base with the first few strikes” [Puroruk] the burly carver said thoughtfully, his hands folded before him, and his eyes turned slightly downward, “and the following ones will cause the statue to come crashing down.” A slight knowing smile formed under his Kanohi as he looked back up at the rest of the Matoran gathered. “An effective, not to mention intelligent, plan indeed,” he continued with a final nod of approval to both Ambages and Aurelia.

"Exactly," Ambages said with a nod, recognizing Puroruk's intelligence as well as his own. "But while we have done much so far -- the tearing down of the Principles and Skills, the death of the Turaga and the Kumu Islets, the raising of an army -- the plan as we planned it is only one-half finished. The Three Virtues remain, and beyond it the faith in Mata Nui.

 

"My personal agenda as of now is to go back to Ko-Koro and slowly make Matoro a puppet and Ko-Koro a fortress."

 

"When you're done with that," Aurelia said, "I will see that the army is moved into its planned castle."

 

Ambages nodded. "We are deep into the plan and have done many, many things that will earn people's attention and ire. Ser," he said, looking at Caerus, "as the master of knowledge I would have you use your abilities to ensure there are no loose ends and that we know when to expect company. And you," he said, looking at Puroruk, "I would have you oversee the army as long as it is in Po-Wahi, allowing Aurelia to mop things up after the Turaga's assassinations." He looked at the dial on his watch. "By now, all six should be dead.

 

"Do we have anything else we can mention here, or something we feel we can contribute on our own?" he asked.

 

 

"That was quicker than I expected!" he called over to Stannis. The desert air was quite still today, but the speed of the birds still produced roaring currents between them. "What do we do now? I'd assume we head back to Po-Koro for Oreius, but after that?"

 

He suddenly felt a pang of worry for Oreius. He felt bad, having left the unconscious Ta-Matoran behind to seek out the Stone...and he hoped that the bizarre slug on his friend's back wasn't as bad as it seemed...

"Yes, it was!" Stannis replied. The previous stones he had been there for had challenged, dangers even. The death of loved ones, the threat of electrocution or lynching, the danger of drowning; these were the dangers he had faced already in the recovery of stones. All he had to do for his own, however, was to apparently dig a little. Stannis felt a little cheated. The challenges to get to the stone itself were enormous, of course, but they were not what Takua had in mind as safeguards against accidental discovery of the rock. No, indeed there were hardly any at all.

 

"We'll wait for Oreius to awaken in Po-Koro and then leave to reunite with the others in Le-Wahi."

 

Hours later, they landed, and soon were resting in Hewkii's house as well to await Oreius' awakening.

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IC (Korero)

 

Once in Hewkii's house, Korero turned to their host.

 

"Umm...Hewkii..."

 

Korero was clearly a little star-struck and self-conscious by suddenly being invited into the house of one of the island's most famed Matoran.

 

"Where's Oreius? I'm...umm...quite worried about him...that slug...?"

 

"We left him in the Turaga's hut," Hewkii replied. The Po-Matoran held a gruff, business-like demeanour, but Korero could see the sadness he was trying to hide. "As far as I know, he's still there."

 

"Thank you," Korero replied. He turned to Stannis. "I'm going to check on him," he announced, and with that, he was out the door, hurrying through the streets to the Turaga's hut.

 

***

The stone-carved house's door was warm to the touch, the afternoon sun still playing on the carven buildings all around. Korero slowly and carefully opened it, peeking inside as a thin bar of light spilled into the darkened interior.

 

"Oreius?" he asked quietly.

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IC (Caerus)

 

"A single question, my friend, and my curiosity will be sated."

 

A lie. The poet's curiosity was never satisfied. He would not sleep tonight, but would lie awake dreaming of the plan that Aurelia and Ambages had masterminded and put into motion. He would spend the dark hours trying the pieces of the puzzle, fitting them together, connecting the dots. The stars and the sands would spin as his brain feverishly rushed to form a coherent conclusion out of the hints that he had gathered over the years.

 

But, for now, a harmless lie. A promise to sleep easy that would not be honoured. The poet's dishevelled appearance would not likely change with the next sunrise.

 

"Whom can we count as our allies in this plan? This island is rife with broken and chaotic minds who, like the Xa-Korans, would no doubt leap at the opportunity to help destroy the pillars of society."

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Ic: "A good question," Ambages agreed. In reply, he pulled a papyrus sheet from his satchel and set it on the bench. With an ink and quill he wrote down the names.

 

Echelon

The members of the Followers of Makuta who attacked Pala-Koro

Brykon, Jin and the members of Bad Company

and any leftenant for Makuta can be counted as available for use

 

Once finished writing, he stood and allowed Caerus and Puroruk to look at the list. Once Caerus nodded, Ambages poured vinegar on the sheet and it dissolved to pulp.

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OOC: SO JUST MISSED A KOHRA INTERACTION GRAH! :) Oh well, maybe next time...

 

IC: Kughii

 

You would think life on the road with an injured toa would be easy. You rip out their tongue or bind their mouth shut with some adhesive and it probably would be, but I really didn’t have the foresight to do either. Does Liikyra hate me or like me? Honestly, I’m not one to care, but the way she reacts is strange. One moment she is violent, the next she is calm. Maybe bi-polar? We ate a vegetable stew for dinner. I had to promise her there was no dirt or mud in the ‘slug-pile-bile’ as she called it. I told her the next time she was hungry:

 

“You can make your own bloody meals, got it princess?!” Kughii yelled, his voice carrying across the desert sands for miles. Any sane traveler who head the sound would have altered their course away from its booming origin immediately. Liikyra stared at him shocked, wooden spoon still stuck in her mouth with food half-on from where he’d left it. “You eat what I cook, no matter how horrible it tastes, or you starve. And don’t you even START complaining about me feeding you -- I am NOT letting a WOUNDED toa hurt themselves MORE by trying to EAT.” He stressed some words so forcefully it seemed as if his teeth were going to fall out from the sheer snapping of his jaw. Stomping off, he left the bowl of food on her chest and doused the fire. With what, she really didn’t care to know, but guessed it was leftover slug-pile-bile. All she heard was the hissing and crackle of dying flames, then felt the cold of the desert encroach once more. Kughii returned, grabbed the straps to the sled, and pressed on, the moonlight guiding him across the dunes. He spat on occasion, but otherwise was silent save for his slowly shortening breath or the occasional curse when he stepped in an abandoned snake hole.

 

Time passed once more, and a little before dawn Kughii began to sprint, his body creaking and groaning in protest. “Shaddup joints.”

 

“What?” Liikyra asked, confusion mounting as the speed pulled her from a strange dream.

 

The terrain had changed, the sands shifting into rocky pebbles, silt, and green undergrowth on the verge of jungle vegetation. Each green leaf whisked by his body, whispering of fragility. They were so close, yet so far.

 

“Not you. Talking to my knees,” He whispered quickly, then pulled up as they made the cover of something green and leafy. Flopping down, Kughii reached for the little supplies of water they had left and wasted a large portion in one massive gulp. With a sigh, he smiled and looked at the dawn.

 

“We’re in Ga-wahi,” He said, then began to snore.

 

OOC: Kughii and Liikyra to Ga-wahi

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IC (Oreius)

 

No. We are one.

 

Oreius lay on the ground, breathing hard. He felt the slug wriggle on his back, its mandibles scraping against his bones, and struggled to choke back his disgust. He failed, however, and instead he vomited onto the stone.

 

The warm presence in his mind diminished, shrinking until it was nothing more than a lukewarm glow, but it was still there. It would always be there. If the parasite was telling the truth, never again would the Ta-Matoran have his own thoughts to himself. His mind was no longer his own.

 

Unless... it was lying? Oreius briefly considered this idea, but the lingering pain that had accompanied his attacking the slug convinced him otherwise. There was no other explanation. The slug's feelings were also his. They were one. He didn't know how, or why, but it was true.

 

The Ta-Matoran wiped his mouth, and struggled to his feet. The wave of exhaustion that had hit him earlier seemed to be passing, but he was still tired. It was almost as if the vile slug were sucking the energy out of his body, drinking him dry. The idea was as repulsive as it was possible.

 

Yes.

 

Oreius started at this response: he still wasn't even close to comfortable with the idea of someone speaking to him from within his own head. He wanted nothing more than to simply shut the parasite out and be at peace again. To have one's own mind all to oneself was a privilege he had never truly appreciated before, and now it was too late.

 

The warmth in the corner of his head blossomed for a moment, and an image bloomed in Oreius' mind: the Ta-Matoran ripping the slug from his back, his fingers crushing the carapace and digging into the soft flesh beneath. He felt the glorious sensation of blood and slime dripping through his fingers, he heard the wonderful sound of the slug's last, agonized scream as he stood, tall and free, and the parasite's remains littering the grou-

 

No! Oreius shook his head free of these images, trying to escape the sensations that were both abhorrent and enticing at the same time.

 

Stop! He mentally shouted at the warmth, begging it to stop, threatening it if it didn't.

 

His threats were useless; what could he do? But, regardless, the images stopped, cutting off instantaneously.

 

The Ta-Matoran shook with the passion of the sensations that had just flooded his body. The idea of violence, of spilling the slug's blood, was so enticing... it frightened him. His mind was no longer his own, but, more than that, he was beginning to find pleasure in the thoughts of ferocity that the parasite was sending to him; his very personality was warping under the weight of the parasite.

 

Stop. He said. Don't do that again.

 

I am sorry, the warm voice replied, speaking once again in images and sensations rather than words. The main sensation that it presented was guilt, an emotion that Oreius knew all to well. It mirrored the guilt he felt because he couldn't prevent Aurax's death, the shame he felt whenever he stood against the Makuta and came up short. The parasite's apology struck a chord in him, however much he wanted to deny it.

 

I do not mean to anger you, the voice continued. I am sorry. You should kill me.

 

The Ta-Matoran sat down on the bed, almost without realizing what he was doing: all his attention was turned inside, to his own mind. To his surprise, he was communicating with the slug.

 

Can I? He asked. You're a part of me, aren't you?

 

The parasite sent forth a surge of self-pity. Yes. But it would be better to die than to live with me.

 

Oreius buried his face in his hands. I can't die! I have a destiny, a duty to the island. Dying would be selfish.

 

The slug's warmth turned cold, and it sent another stream of visions to Oreius to communicate its feelings.

 

No. To be alive is selfish. I am selfish because I live.

 

The Matoran watched as a foreign memory played itself out in his mind's eye. He shuddered as he felt cold steel brush his wrist; he gasped in horror and despair as the parasite stole Turaga Onewa's life for himself. For a moment, he drowned in the slug's self-loathing, then he surfaced, Oreius once more.

 

You... you killed Turaga Onewa.

 

Yes. I am not strong. I am fearful. The parasite's feelers shifted uncomfortably in his back, stroking his spine. I deserve to die.

 

Well, you can't die, Oreius snapped mentally. If you die, I die, remember? And I can't; not until Makuta is dead.

 

The warmth seemed to shiver; it presented an image of scarlet eyes, red as blood and full of malevolence, floating in endless darkness. And... a strange feeling of kinship.

 

Makuta. My father.

 

The Ta-Matoran groaned. You mean... I'm destined to defeat Makuta, and I got latched by one of his sons?

 

The parasite's voice grew mournful; the images it sent turned washed-out and gray.

 

Yes. I am sorry.

 

“Oreius?”

 

The Ta-Matoran looked up as the door at the far end of the hut creaked open and a familiar pair of eyes peered in.

 

“Korero!”

 

He jumped to his feet, having never felt so glad to see a friendly face in his life, and jogged to the door. The slug twitched on his back, but said nothing.

 

“It's so good to see you alive and well. Where's Stannis?”

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OOC: The following post would not be possible without some cooperation from Wotz. I thank him for that. :) Well, here goes my not-as-awesome-as-everyone-else's BZPRPG 2013 preview post.

IC:

The Po-Matoran woke up hacking, startling the nurses who were by him. His blurry vision soon cleared. No longer was he standing guard by Turaga Onewa's hut, he was in a white hospital room.

He looked around, awfully confused. "Where am I?!" he asked the nurses. "The last thing I remember I was at..." The Matoran struggled to recall what had happened. He jumped out of the bed. "The Turaga! The others! Are they okay?!" he asked, nearly strangling one of the nurses in his longing for answers. "Urk!" cried the nurse as he released her. As soon as the nurse had left, another Matoran came in, wearing a white labcoat. Probably a doctor. "Ah good, you're awake," began the doctor. "We weren't sure if you would survive."

 

"Survive? What do you...? Explain. Now." the Matoran said.

 

A sad look overcame the doctor's face. "You and the others were... poisoned. They're all dead. Except for you. It appears that you had a smaller dose of poison, and as soon as those who found you noticed you still had a faint pulse, you were rushed over here and given treatment."

 

The Matoran, stunned, sat back down on the edge of the bed. "And the Turaga. Is he...?

 

The doctor started walking off. He turned back to his fellow Po-Matoran before he stepped out. "I... I think you can figure that out..."

 

The Po-Matoran wept. He wept for the loss of his brothers in arms, the loss of his Turaga, and the failure of his duty.

 

***

The door to Hewkii's hut opened, and Marohi Kamaka, celebrated Po-Koro guard, stepped inside, eyes slightly bleary. Hewkii stood up with a start and walked over to his fellow Guardsman. "Marohi! What happened? Are you all right?" asked Hewkii, dropping his gruff demeanor for a moment.

 

"No. I'm not alright. Nothing's alright," responded the Po-Matoran bluntly. "I...I've come to do something I never thought I'd do." The Guard pulled something out of his pocket and pressed it into Hewkii's hand. Hewkii took a look at the thing- it was a Guard badge.

 

"You're resigning? Marohi, why? The Turaga's death wasn't your fault!"

 

Marohi bowed his head. "It was my fault, Hewkii- I was supposed to help protect the Turaga and I failed. I failed my duty. I don't deserve to be a Guard any longer. Goodbye old friend." With that Marohi turned and simply walked out of Hewkii's hut, not taking much note of anyone else in hut. Hewkii sat back in his chair, clearly troubled and saddened by the loss of a great Guard memeber.

 

***

Marohi Kamaka, former Po-Koro Guardsman, walked slowly down the street towards his hut. He had failed in probably his most important duty. Marohi knew what he would do. He had to leave the village. He didn't know where he would go, but anywhere was better than here. He would basically exile himself to avoid his shame. Marohi continued walking, thinking of places he would go...

OOC: Yes, Marohi did just walk in to where Stannis was and slightly ignored him. I may or may not be planning on having that being slightly important later, depending on how certain things go.

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IC: Puroruk The burly carver read the list of names without questionor comment. His face was not twisted into a frown, nor upturned in a smile. Rather, it seemed like he was one of his own statues, captured in a moment of thoughtfulness forever through time. It was obvious on his broad features that Puroruk was deep in thought, but still quite focused on the things around him. It was a skill he obtained as a carver. The ability to think and plan ahead what one was carving, while at the same time making sure one didn't take off a finger or two. "On the first note," came his gravely voice, "While I may not be able to craft weapons and equipment for an entire army, I can teach how to others." As it was, Puroruk was a craftsman, and so strived to cover all of the smaller fields that it encompassed. While his main focus was sculpture, the Po-Matoran had more than enough experience making both armor and weapons. As with all of his works, these were both works of intellect and art, while retaining -and even gaining- functionality. With this, though, basics could be taught, even if it meant a bit of lacking in aesthetics.IC: Krell

 

"Urg... you could say that," I replied, rubbing the side of my head, trying to make sense of what just happened. Ow. Whatever it was, it certainly gave me a massive headache.

 

IC: Aelynn

 

A groan came from the other side of the door, followed by something that sounded similar to, "Idunwanna." Aelynn wasn't feeling the best right now, for obvious reasons.

Edited by Gravity

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BZPRPG -

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IC (Korero)

 

Korero smiled as Oreius bounded to the door. He was glad to see his friend happy, and for now, the Ko-Matoran all but forgot about the bizarre parasite on Oreius' back.

 

"He's still in Hewkii's hut," he said. His smile widened, and although he spoke quietly, there was excitement in his voice. "We found it."

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IC: Auron:

 

"I know you're not feeling your best, but we have stuff to do. If we can't find some work, we wont be able to stay here tonight," Auron pointed out, "So I'm going to count to eighty-eight (because it's a evenly divide-able number and it's completely symmetrical) for you to come out here, and if you aren't, I'm coming in."

 

One, Two, Three...

 

IC: Dalia:

 

Dalia had used what little money she had to pay the doctor. Thank goodness that the doctor had a mask of healing. When asked of how she got her injuries, she replied with, "Not everything in Ga-Koro is OK as it seems."

 

That certainly left him confused.

 

But now, she sat in the back of an inn. To her left sat two matoran, one red, the other brown, and the right of her was a Vortixx sipping tea.

 

She hated tea.

 

OOC: If you're not occupied, Dalia, open to interact...

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[Argyle | IC] Argyle has many names. The name he was given at birth, one he does not remember, nor would he really care to. Then, his nicknames. Argyle the Rough, Argyle the Wanderer, and Argyle the Corpse, the latter of which you should never say to his face. He was a toa- emphasis on was- who had gotten used to the difficult lifestyle of the desert. His hut was situated in the southern regions of the Motara, almost near Ga-Kini. He keeps a journal. Today's entry:

 

The obnoxious Vortixx repairman has been gone for a few months. I imagine he will return within 3 fortnights. That's a fancy way to say 36 days. Nothing of much significance has occurred. Argyle, Signing off.

Morally unambiguous.

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IC:

 

 

Ronkshou led Kohra into the adjascent room which was obviously designed for agents retreating here getting patched up and to relax or meditate between missions. While the Toa sat down on one of the stone-seats, she walked over to the basin of water instead. The surface was perfectly flat, having been undisturbed for a while and only as she stepped right next to the basin there were small rippled spreading across the water, which disappeared quickly again. She studied her reflection for a few seconds. She looked tired after several days of nothing but walking, but otherwise she was fine. Though now that she stodd still, she could feel the sand that had caught on her body. It tickled at the base of her hair and stuck in the gaps of her armour.

 

Slowly, Kohra wrapped her fingers around the edge of her hood and pulled it back. It was probably the first time that Ronkshou had seen her head in full, considering the last time she had not worn the piece of black cloth over her had had been in the brief struggle with Zadron. And Ronkshou had been encased in ice then. She stretched her neck first, then rolled her shoulders, before repeating the movement a bit more forcefully, shrugging elegantly out of her cloak, which slide down her arms and fell to the floor. She wanted to get a little cleaned up at least before they went on the move again and she didn't care if Ronkshou was in the same room. Self-consciousness expressed through shyness was not one of Kohra's qualities. Sure, she had much of the attractiveness atributed to her species, except for her left arm. But being perceived as beautiful by others was not something she cared about on an emotional level. It was a tool she could use, nothing more. And if others were more focused on her looks than on her actions, they would not see her strikes coming.

 

She unstrapped the larger pieces of her armour and placed them on the floor in order, before focusing back on the basin. She placed her hands in the cool water, before starting to get the worst of the sand off of herself.

 

“So, I heard you were the one who brought the Second Plague to Po-Koro,” Ronkshou said to her then, “And you were also the one who destroyed the North March cablecar”

 

The Vortixx didn't stop in what she was doing, barely nodded her head.

 

“I’ve also learned that you seem to share a similar connection to the Makuta as me, but without a mask, I’m left a bit perplexed and how you maintain such a connection,” Ronkshou said, “Care to explain?”

 

That question made her pause. She placed her hands on the edge of the basin for a few seconds, droplets of water running down the sharp edge of her claws and dripping on the floor. She glanced back over her shoulder at the dark Toa. "The master told you of the villages?" she asked. Ronkshou nodded.

 

"Then you heard correctly. Though if the information had come from somewhere else it would have meant a leak since nobody else knows I was behind both. As for your other question...no, I do not wish to explain it. It may sound similar in words, but it is much more than what you share with the master through your mask."

 

She turned back around, focusing on cleaning herself and her armour, which took another ten minutes. Once she was done and armoured-up again, she turned back to Ronkshou, her cloak in her hand. "It isn't dark yet, but unless you have more to talk about, we should be on our way again. I feel urgency in our masters thoughts. We must not delay."

 

 

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IC, Marohi:

 

Marohi stepped out of his hut for what probably was the last time. He took a long look at his home village and took in the heat of the suns. The Po-Matoran was a bit sad to leave his village in such a time, but he felt he no longer had a place there. He bent down and scooped up a handful of sand. The hand opened and Marohi watched the grains fly off in the breeze.

 

If I have failed my duty, the Matoran thought, I will go and find a new one. Greater still, I will go and find my destiny. Clearly it is not here, so I will walk until I find it...

 

The Po-Matoran put on a thin brown scarf around his chin and mouth, not because it was cold, but as a thin disguise so that his shame would not be recognized. Taking his adorned trekking pole in hand, Marohi Kamaka, former Guardsman, walked down the street and through the gates of the village of Stone, away from the setting suns, never looking back.

 

OOC: And so Marohi's journey begins. To be continued in the BZPRPG 2013... Yes, I know that was short. Don't judge me.

Edited by Toa Xemnas of Crystal
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IC: Ronkshou – Secret Cave – Tiro Canyon

 

The Infected Toa remained unphased by the Vortixx as she washed the sand off her body and armor. He was concerned only with her answers, which Ronkshou had to admit weren’t all that satisfactory. Still, her assistance was needed on this search, so Ronkshou decided against pressing for a more thorough explanation.

 

“It isn't dark yet, but unless you have more to talk about, we should be on our way again,” Kohra said as she turned to face Ronkshou, “I feel urgency in our masters thoughts. We must not delay.”

 

Ronkshou felt a strong inclination to continue as well, “Yes, you're right. Let’s move”

 

Ronkshou – Motara Desert

 

Because the desert was rarely disturbed, it was easy to find leads simply by looking for foot tracks, or vain attempts to hide foot tracks. Lightstone in hand, Ronkshou and Kohra scanned their surroundings as they walked towards the northern coast of Po-Wahi. Once they were there, they would walk back south and continue until they were at the north eastern crest of land. Right now, Ronkshou and Kohra had the canyon to their left as their guide, but they both knew that as they walked deeper into the continuous-thirsty desert, it would be much more difficult to find their way.

 

Fortunately for these two travelers, Ronkshou knew this area like the back of his hand. He could pick out landmarks where less traveled people would easily miss them. And so, they duo continued, searching for any signs of disturbance in the bleak, sandy expanse. So far, there was nothing north or east of them but dunes and pits. Not even any cacti or rocks to distinguish one area from the other. At least now the sun was gone, leaving a cool, starry night ahead of them.

"hey girl: here’s an idea, but… it’s up to you:

You’re the boss of this operation."

[BZPRPG Profile] [Ghosts of Bara Magna Profile]

 

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IC (Oreius)

 

"You found it?" Oreius repeated, his voice low. "You mean... it?"

 

Korero nodded.

 

The Ta-Matoran clenched a fist, his face breaking into a grin of victory. The sun shone brighter for a moment; the azure sky turned a more intense blue. Victory was at hand; the goal they had fought for and raced after for so long was finally, against all odds, within reach.

 

It?

 

The moment shattered like it was made of glass as the parasite's voice expanded inside Oreius' head, rippling with curiousity. The Ta-Matoran tried to push the knowledge away, hide it, keep it safe from Makuta's minion, but he and the slug were one. They couldn't hide from each other. Oreius knew what "it" was, and as he had heard Korero's news, the identity of the mystery object had floated through his mind, easy pickings for the vile creature.

 

The parasite's warmth winced, shrinking for a moment as Oreius labelled it a "vile creature", but sent forth its acquired knowledge anyway: Tahu's Essence Stone, glowing scarlet in Oreius' hands. The image shone with curious excitement, and the slug's feelers wriggled beneath the Matoran's flesh.

 

It is a... rock? A... Toa-energy rock?

 

Oreius ignored the slug, and focused on Korero. “Where's Stannis now?”

 

“Hewkii's hut,” the Ko-Matoran replied. “We were just waiting for you to wake up.”

 

The Ta-Matoran frowned. “Waiting... but you got it while I was asleep. How long was I out for?”

 

“Two days.”

 

The former Guard looked incredulously at his companion, then shook his head impatiently. “We don't have much time, then. Take me to Stannis; we need to get moving.”

 

The pair left the hut, and walked through Po-Koro, heading for Hewkii's house. The sun shone in a cloudless sky, and a rare breeze blew through the village, taking the edge off the desert heat. But Oreius' mind was far from his surroundings. Now that he knew the parasite on his back was the Makuta's spawn, it was only a matter of time before the Darkness came for them. It could track their every move. It would know what they did as soon as Oreius knew.

 

The slug protested at this, its warm voice vibrating with indignation. It tried to push a memory into Oreius' view, but the Ta-Matoran shoved it aside, keeping his eyes on the road, not wanting to be influenced by the creature any more than he already was.

 

His stomach twisted as Korero opened the door to Hewkii's hut. They might already be out of time.

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Ic: Stannis was restless in Hewkii's hut. He hadn't been able to sleep all during the night and instead stayed up late reading tablets Hewkii took from the late turaga's hut. Onewa was one of the wisest turaga Stannis could have known; it was with sadness that he knew they would never be able to bond. But what perturbed Stannis the most was the slug on Oreius' back. Stannis was looking for knowledge about that creature. What he found both disturbed and comforted him.

 

Onewa's relationship with the Parakuka -- he named him Inu -- was apparently benign, at least supposedly so. This allowed for the two beings, host and parasite, to interact at a social level, something Onewa mentioned the other turaga were not able to do. Inu was somehow able to understand morals, too, making their interaction as close to a friendship as they could manage. Inu, and consequently Parakuka in general, was apparently quite intelligent though weak of belief, being a lesser spawn of the Makuta. And that was where the news became more unsettling. No matter how Stannis looked at it, his friend was one with a scion of the darkness, something with its own mind and body that could be traced to Makuta himself. But most hauntingly was what seemed like a footnote in Onewa's research:

 

Parakuka live by sucking the life energy of its host. Eventually the host will die and the Parakuka will have to find a new host. This may take many years, depending on the ages of the host and parasite, but it is inevitable.

 

Inu was apparently a young Parakuka, theoretically making him less dangerous, but it was obvious that Onewa died not by violence... but by being drained of his energies. Inu must have been responsible. And if Inu could have done it once... what was to stop him from doing it again to Oreius? The thought deeply troubled Stannis, but nowhere in his research could he uncover a way to remove the slug from its host. The prophet slumped in his bed and let the tablet roll off and hit the floor in the candlelit room before twilight.

 

It was the dawn of the second day of Oreius' travesty; the dutiful soldier was due to awake that day. But Stannis was still not going to get his rest. As the suns rose and shone down into Po-Koro, a courier entered the village and delivered a message to Hewkii. It was not long until the matoran stormed to Stannis' quarter with intent to wake him and give him the message, though to nobody's pleasure the first objective was not an issue. "What is it?" Stannis asked quickly as Hewkii strode to his bedside.

 

"I received this note from Nuri of the Ta-Koro Guard. It bears mention that... all the turaga... are dead..." Hewkii sobbed as he crubled to the floor and leaned against the bed in agony, finally breaking down from the news. "They were apparently all killed on the same night. Vakama was the last one to be killed."

 

Stannis blinked in disbelief before slowly sinking back into the bed. His hand reached out and touched Hewkii on his shoulder and gripped it solidly to comfort the ailing Matoran leader. It was a dark and terrible time indeed when even the elders are not sacred enough to remain living. Mortality's knife was sharper than obsidian and fate darker than the shadowglass. There the two commanders simply wept in silence as the suns rose higher and higher, each trying to comfort the other with thoughts.

 

"This is a part of the prophesy," Stannis finally said. "At the darkest hour in unrivaled power the greatest foe has stood. It means the Makuta has immense power right now, Hewkii. With the Turaga dead and most of the heroes scattered it seems all hope is lost. But the next lines speak of his defeat... by the hand of all that is good. Have faith, brother," Stannis said as he got up and slipped his weapons on. "This is a new beginning and the dawn is just starting. I think it's true to say you are the leader of this village. Without the Turaga to guide us we must be the true heroes of this age."

 

"You speak truth, Stannis," Hewkii said as he stood up. He stepped forward and touched Stannis' shoulder in turn. "What will you do next?"

 

That was an issue Stannis had little quarrel with. The path was almost indicated by neon signs, at least to Stannis. He recalled the message Takua posthumously gave to the team in the video on the iStone tablet:

 

... "Once these six stones have been gathered, you and the others will not immediately become Toa. To transform, you must bring the stones to the Suva Nui, which is in Le-Wahi; wholly by accident, the Nui Rama Swarm built its nest around this secret Suva... Perhaps they were attracted to its natural energies. In any case, you must make it past the Nui Rama somehow, get inside, find the Suva and, by placing the stones in the six notches there, you should transform."

 

Takua replaced the Essence Stone out of the field of view. He fidgeted in his seat, repositioning, before continuing. "But the stones are not all that must be gathered. The Great Spirit meant for you to have these stones ever since they were wrenched into existence against the will of the First Toa, but he also remembers that the power of these very Toa was, it seemed, not enough to defeat Makuta on the first attempt. There is a failsafe in place for your use; I cannot tell you what it is, because I have never seen it myself. I have only been to the failsafe's Keeping Place, and only been there once, in the wake of the First Toa's fall... Though I have searched throughout the jungles surrounding the Kini-Nui many times in attempts to relocate the Keeping Place, I have never found it since. I believe that it cannot be found unless the Great Spirit wills for it to be visited. ...

 

"I will meet with Korero and see if Oreius is awake, then take to the skies. We will then reunite with the other members of the team," Stannis said deliberately. "And then... Then I think we will have to become toa." Those words meant more to Stannis than anyone, and not necessarily in a great way.

 

"Your team is fated to be toa?" Hewkii asked in astonishment. Those stones..."

 

"Are toa stones, yes," Stannis said as he slipped Tahu's and Pohatu's essence stones into a satchel and tossed its strap over his shoulder. When he left the Massif to go on an adventure he wanted to assemble a team of Matoran to prove to everyone that Matoran could be great heroes and warriors, too, to show the world that the future could be affected by people other than toa and foreigners. And in a way he had succeeded. He had altered the future beyond what he could have anticipated all those months ago when he packed his things and left the Massif, scroll in hand, shouting, "I'm going on an adventure~" Stannis, a matoran, had changed the future for the better as The Wanderer.

 

But times had changed. This truly was a new day. Maybe there was some cosmic order, a balance that had to be followed. Upon the apotheosis Stannis and his fellow men would undergo soon, becoming Toa-Heroes, there would be others, Matoran no less, to become the next generation of destiny questers. Destiny, Stannis knew, oft worked in mysterious ways.

 

"Then I wish Mata Nui be with you," Hewkii said as he shook Stannis gently and retracted his hand, "and I look forward to seeing your great name in the chronicles of your journey. When I look at you I see a grand strategy at play. Your statue will be the statue that will pierce the heavens, Stannis."

 

"You flatter me with your kindness, Hewkii," Stannis said abashedly. "Thank you for everything and I pray Po-Koro will have peace under your watch." They embraced before Stannis left the house.

 

 

The prophet walked with nervous interest towards the large dome of Onewa's hut, but not even halfway through the stroll to the bug house Stannis met with Korero and Oreius... and Inu. Stannis eyed the spawn of Matoran-Satan with ire but then smiled at Oreius, the man of Duty. "About time. We were about to leave without you," Stannis joked bleakly and then waved for the other two to follow. "We really don't have much space to dawdle with anymore. The Kahu are saddled and ready for us just outside the village walls. We'll take them to our destination."

 

"Which is?" Korero asked, curious.

 

Stannis clasped Korero's shoulder and leaned in to the Ko-Matoran's ear. "The Suva," he whispered. Korero's eyes opened like saucers. "You ready, chronicler?"

 

"Yes," he beamed as they walked through the Koro gates. "Oh yes."

 

Hewkii saluted them as they left his village and still gazed up at them as the trio of matoran heroes, legends in the making, flew away on their airborn steeds to the south.

 

Ooc: Stannis, Korero, Oreius (and Inu) to Le-Wahi.

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IC (Korero)

 

As Korero heard that whispered word, it was like the first rays of dawn had been rising in his heart, and the golden eye of the sun suddenly blazed its shining beams through his soul.

 

Chronicler.

 

It was what he'd always, somewhere deep down, hoped for. It was why he'd never fit in in the Sanctum; deciphering the future, but taking no part in it, was not for him. It was why Nuju had sent him to Ta-Koro; the Turaga must have seen it in him. It was why he'd loved working at the Wall of History; to walk where Takua had walked, and read what he had written. It was why he'd always longed for something more, why he'd always tried to find 'history creating itself', why he'd always been...different. And it was why he'd finally found what he was looking for.

 

"Yes..." he sighed, overcome with elation, "oh, yes..."

 

***

The exertions and excitement of the last day (and his lack of sleep) finally overcame Korero once they were strapped into their harnesses and soaring towards Le-Wahi; it was a long flight, from the northernmost to the southernmost Wahi, and before Korero knew it his eyes were drooping closed and he fell into a deep sleep.

 

But it was not dreamless.

 

***

He was walking through a dull grey void. The ground on which he walked felt smooth and hard beneath his feet, and flat, stretching out in all directions, but was covered in a thick grey fog that obscured everything below the Matoran's knees before dissipating at about his waist-level. The fog, and by extension the plane on which he walked, stretched as far as the eye could see, and above it was a colourless sky, the colour of ashes, that gave a bright but dull light to the infinite emptiness.

 

Korero wandered through the void, the only sound being his muffled footsteps. He didn't know where he was going, but he walked purposefully onward, under the flat, grey sky.

 

Gradually, he began to make out a shape ahead of him. A figure, a little taller than himself, but its features were indiscernible. As he walked towards it, it grew clearer, and as he drew near it turned. It was Turaga Nuju.

 

"Korero, my boy," the Turaga said, smiling sadly. Nuju spoke in the bird-tongue - but somehow, Korero understood him. "You've come so far. I'm sorry I could not live to see you find your destiny..."

 

"What do you mean, Turaga?" Korero asked, confused, and began to walk toward Nuju again.

 

Nuju shook his head, still smiling that sad smile.

 

"Goodbye, Korero."

 

The Ko-Matoran broke into a run towards his old leader, but the Turaga simply melted away, dissolving into grey fog that in turn melted into the empty air. Korero looked around, perplexed - but immediately saw another figure, not far away. This one was taller, and Korero immediately recognised the twin swords strapped vertically to his back.

 

The Toa turned as Korero approached, revealing a strong but kind Calix and warm green eyes.

 

Merror smiled, and knelt down on one knee as he had all that time ago.

 

"Korero," he said, his voice soft and kind. "You're doing so well."

 

"Thank you," Korero said bashfully, looking at his feet.

 

"And Korero...?"

 

The Ko-Matoran looked up, into Merror's eyes.

 

"Don't be afraid."

 

Korero suddenly had an urge to hug the father-like Toa, but even as he started forwards, Merror melted into fog just as Nuju had. Korero's face fell as his arms grasped thin air, but again, his disappointment was short-lived as he spotted yet another figure in the mist.

 

This one was a Matoran, of about Korero's height; unimposing and slight, he stood with his back to Korero, looking up at the empty sky.

 

"Ah yes," said the Matoran, not turning. "I thought you'd come."

 

"Who...who are you?" Korero asked uncertainly.

 

The Matoran remained motionless for a moment, before eventually turning to face Korero. His blue Pakari was unmistakable.

 

"T-Takua?" Korero gasped.

 

Takua nodded.

 

"And you are Korero, aren't you?" he said. It wasn't a question. "The extra variable...the unkown, 'x'...do you even know who you are?"

 

Korero was silent, stunned both by the presence of his hero and his words.

 

"Stannis has chosen you as my heir..." Takua continued. The Chronicler reached into his backpack and pulled out a device similar to the Onu-Koronan iStones. Korero recognised it immediately: the legendary Book of Chronicles. The Ko-Matoran let out a gasp. Takua extended his arm to Korero, handing him the device.

 

Korero took it with reverent hands, his fingers brushing the worn casing.

 

"Turn it on," Takua instructed.

 

Korero raised his forefinger, and gently pressed the 'on' button.

 

Nothing happened.

 

He tried again, but the device was unresponsive, its screen dull and dead.

 

"It's broken," he said, looking up at Takua.

 

"Is it?" the Matoran asked, taking the Book back. He pressed the button, and the screen flickered into life, displaying a menu. Korero stared at it in consternation. Takua handed it back to him - but the moment the Book touched his hands, the light of the screen died away again, the glass flickering back to black.

 

"What - why - " Korero began to ask - but Takua was gone. Even as he looked down at the Book in his hands, it crumbled away into dust. Korero sank, dejected, to his knees. What did this all mean? Why was it happening to him?

 

As though responding to his thoughts, the void around him darkened and the fog began to rise, coiling up into a hazy mist that surrounded Korero and blurred the sky until all that he could see was the threatening greyness.

 

And then the shadows appeared.

 

Dark figures began to coalesce in the mist, slowly closing in on him. He looked around, his heart racing, but the dark shapes were approaching from all sides, malevolent eyes glowing in the darkness. As they grew near, their nature was revealed: tall and terrible beings they were, clad in grim armour and encircling him with dark intent. As he looked around in terror, he stared at each in turn; some he recognised, some he did not. There was the huge Mark Bearer, there the horrific Rahkshi-Toa, there the fell Infected one - and others he had not seen before: a Vortixx whose arm was corrupted and black, and a tall, staff-bearing Toa whose crimson eyes gleamed with a deadly intelligence.

 

All but the Infected one formed a circle around him; the latter continued to bear down on him, reaching out one powerful arm to grab the cowering Matoran -

 

When suddenly, another shadowy shape dropped down behind him, and struck the Infected Toa in the back. He shattered into coils of black fog, and the others' gazes snapped to their unexpected assailant. First to charge was the Mark Bearer, swinging his great sword in a deadly swipe. But the being was too fast; he moved fluidly around the sword as though he wasn't there at all - except he was, and soon the Mark Bearer too was nothing but shadowy blackness, evaporating away. Korero stared at the being - but in the dim light, the being's incredible speed and agility made him little more than a blur. Then came the Toa-Rahkshi and the Vortixx at once; the being raised a shield to deflect the monstrous Toa's weapon, his parry evolving into an acrobatic kick that sent the Toa reeling away as he dissolved, and weaved around the Vortixx's clawed slashes to sweep her legs from under her, sending her toppling.

 

Finally, the Toa with the staff (who had remained where he was throughout the conflict) made his move. He raised a hand, and an unseen force seemed to tighten around the being's throat, raising him off the ground, struggling. But then there was a deafening roaring noise - Korero clapped his hands over his ears - and the Toa was blasted backwards, disappearing into the mists.

 

The being dropped to his feet in a crouch, and the mist began to swirl away in a widening circle, as though blown back by high winds, until it had all vanished away and the sky was visible once more - not grey as it had been, but light blue and streaked with clouds of the purest white. The ground beneath him was flawless glass, and the sun shone with its glorious golden light.

 

The being who had fought all those dark ones rose to his full height, his sleek and heroic frame silhouetted against the radiant orb as he faced it. Korero raised a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding light, but watched as the Toa (for what else could it be?) looked over his shoulder at him.

 

His eyes glowed golden to match the sun behind him.

 

OOC: Korero to Le-Wahi

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IC:

 

LoJak was jogging through the tunnels now, sensing that he was almost done travelling underground. He was a Ta-Toa, not one from Onu-Wahi- the tunnels gave him no comfort. In fact, they reminded him of the tunnels in Kini-Nui, the ones drowned in shadow and leading to Makuta.

 

No, LoJak was almost out. He spread out his elemental awareness, soaking up the heat he could feel not far ahead. He smiled. So close, he'd be in Ta-Koro in less than a minute, he'd continue his destiny of inspiring the Matoran of Mata-Nui, he would become a hero and.....

 

...He stood frozen, eyes squinting from the bright Po-Wahi sun.

 

LoJak frowned. He'd gotten lost again.

 

 

He walked towards the docks. LoJak had had enough of the tunnels. They were damp, cold and dark - even with his unnatural fires. And they were too easy to get lost in. This time he wouldn't take any chances. He was going to a buy a ticket for a boat, travel like normal people do.

 

LoJak saw four Toa coming off a boat. He thought it odd. Four was not the normal number for a Toa group. And it seemed like they knew where they were going. LoJak groaned. He knew he shouldn't, he should just get on the boat and ignore them. It was probably the smart thing to do.

 

His curiosity kicked in, his desire for adventure.

 

Oh well. Time to to the dumb thing.

 

He walked up to them. "Hello. How are we all today?" he asked.

 

ooc: Let's get the Ancora moving, shall we?

Quiz by TheQuizzery.com

 

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IC:

 

 

"Wonderful" LoJak said with a grin. "Always good to hear that my fellow Toa heroes are doing just fine."

 

LoJak eyed the group again, making sure there was no one unaccounted for. "Though I must say, it seems odd seeing a Toa group of four. If you don't mind my asking, what is it you've come to Po-Koro for? I know the area a bit, and I could help you if you need it."

Quiz by TheQuizzery.com

 

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IC: The ClockmakerA lone canister washed up on a deserted section of Po-Wahi's beach. Canister? No. This was an escape pod. Though it did look like a Toa canister. And it did contain a Toa. The side opened up, and a silver hand reached out, pulling the owner of said arm out and onto the moist beach sand. The Toa struggled to his feet and stretched his sore limbs. "Looks like I had quite the float getting here."Gazing out onto the horizon, he couldn't see hide not hair of the ship he'd traveled on. "We'll that's a pity. She was a fine vessel, she was. Reckon I'll have to find myself a new transport this time. Other than..." He kicked the pod that carried him to shore, "this thing."Bending over, he reached into the pod and pulled out his mask, which had apparently fallen off his face during the drift. A visorless Great Matatu, or at least it looked like it. Placing the mask on his face he reached in again and produced a tool kit and a coat. He realized the clothes he already had on were frumpy and damaged, some torn in places. He wasn't exactly presentable, but he didn't have an alternative. Checking in his long coat's pockets, he produced a pocket watch. Still ticking. This special watch told him the exact date. "Fifty-seven days spent drifting. Dear me. Oh well, it's not like I have any sort of schedule." Pocketing the watch and picking up the tool box, he set turned to look at the island he'd washed up on. "A desert island? I hope not. Maybe it's just this region. Doesn't look like anything lives here." He bent down and took a pinch of sand in his hand, then gave it a lick before spitting it out, "Nope, there's definitely life out here. Better hope it's intelligent."And with that he set off into the desert, coat slung over his shoulder. OOC: The Clockmaker is open for interaction, though I don't expect he'll get any out here yet.

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IC:

 

"And what brings you here?"

 

"Well, I actually got lost in some tunnels heading towards Ta-Koro and wound up here. And I was heading to Ta-Koro to teach and inspire, I suppose. There doesn't seem to be enough role models on this island for the Matoran. Too many evil Toa turning on Mata-Nui, forgetting the three Virtues. I thought I could help promote a little Temperance on the island.

"And yoursleves? What are you looking for in Ko-Wahi?" LoJak asked.

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IC: (Valria)

 

Valria frowned at the mention of Ko-Koro's destruction. Alrin had departed for his home shortly before that had occured, last she saw him.

 

IC: (Corporal Hari)

 

Hari stood on the deck of the ship, arms crossed. She was a little more optimistic than she had been a few hours ago, only a little though. Her commanding officer had been through Karz, Krayn nearly lost himself in despair, and they had received news of the Turaga's deaths, including Onewa.

 

All those problems one after another seemed like too much to bear, to much to think about. She wasn't sure if she even wanted to reflect anymore, wasn't sure if she could keeping viewing the world the way she had. Nothing ever changed, and if anything did, it only seemed to get worse. Problems seemed to only grow. Hari sighed deeply and put on a gentle smile. Just had to keep looking forward, focusing on the present, on what she could manage.

 

OOC: Hari with Fowadi crew from Le-Wahi.

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IC:

 

LoJak's eyes widened. "Half the Koro?!?" I can't believe I haven't that news. I've been... busy lately, but an attack of that magntitude..." LoJak's voice trailed off.

 

Yet another evil of the drink. It made me forget my duty to protect the villages, to help others. It ruined me, shattered my spirit. Mata-Nui, how could i have been so week?

 

And now now I must pick up the pieces, rebuild this island. My lack of resolve was my weakness - I have overcome it, and now resolve will be my strength. Temperance in the face of desire.

 

"Temperance" he whispered to himself.

 

He saw one of the group frowning. Probably wondering what LoJak was muttering.

 

"Well, what are we waiting for then? Why are we here? We should be getting on a boat to Ko-Koro right away!" LoJak said, determination in his voice. Without asking first he had included himself in the group. He hadn't mean't to be so brash, but when doing good, one usually asks questions later, he thought.

Edited by Toa Fanixe

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You are strong and kinda smart, but not too much

Which Barraki are you?

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IC: (Hari)

 

"We'll get through it. Things will get better." Hari said aloud, but it was also directed towards herself. Her words seemed much weaker when she spoke, it was hard for the Toa of Plant Life to portray the same level of optimism. She knew what she said to Krayn, but in a way going home felt wrong. It felt like they were needed somewhere else. All she was doing was going home and trying to help people get by. Something she was good at, but it didn't feel like enough. She wasn't doing enough and it was eating away at her, chewing up her insides.

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