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Six Kingdoms: Escapement - Gameplay

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IC: Sidra - Tuyet's Lair

"Okay... I can get behind that," she stepped aside. 

If this was the wrong choice, she hoped she wouldn't live to regret it. 

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IC: Nale Vella - Archives

She was doing her best to ignore the pain at the moment, even as the Skakdi fished around in her wound.

"...Vella. Nale Vella," she got out, before going back to grimacing and biting her lip.


@Dane

IC: Rose - Ko-Metru (Bringing the Heat)

Rose followed after Skyra, unleashing flames on the League soldiers nearest to her. Even if this didn't draw out the warlord, it would at least be fun.


@Snelly


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IC: Vashni - Le-Metru -

Well with that, Vashni gave Stannis a very large info dump.

Quote

 

The world vanished for Kanohi, shards of glass erupting from his eyes. He stumbled backwards, to see the shards of glass drifting in the void. As if a playful Garai user was making them dance. He stared and the shards bumbled and struck each other, with each collision green sparks striking between them. Until before his eyes the image had merged into a small chain of islands on the ocean.

Kanohi … his hands moved on its own, reaching out towards the island. As his hands extended the image rippled, like the fumes of the Great Furnace. Before Kanohi’s gaze he could see waves slamming into the islands, small huts pounded by the ocean. The water drew higher and higher, smothering the shanty-towns on the coast as a dying flame.

The Fe-Matoran felt his heartlight beat as a lighthouse, and his hands shot out, trying to push away the waves, shove the water aside. But the water slipped through his fingers, forcing his hands open. His optics shook in horror, he kept trying, but water was beyond him. He could only look as a marble of water spread across the islands like an infected mask, until the last town was pulverized into powder. As that town was shredded  a solitary crimson flag was uprooted from the force,  and slammed straight into his eyes, coiling around his head. Kanohi clawed at his face, struggling to get the banner off—

 

@EmperorWhenua

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IC: Reliable Narrator | Le-Metru

Vashni revved forward, her psionic blasts blowing back attackers trying to crowd around the motorbike. Stannis’ holy hands glowed with every slap against the Ehlekians. Jabali chased after them, vahki staves turning her enemies into psychologically impaired frienemies. Jutori stayed in the thick of things as he tried to keep pace with the aged toa of stone, his hammer colliding into the green-skinned warriors of Ehlek with a sickening crunch.

As they turned a corner they caught sight of the largest tower in Le-Metru. It rose high above them, and Stannis had a wandering suspicion the barraki from the sea had taken residence at the top. Maybe it was just the Great Spirit nudging him in the right direction, maybe it was the blown out holes in the lower stories indicating a violent confrontation and the soldiers stationed around said holes to ward off his little mystery gang of supposed spiritual do-gooders.

A crack rang in the air and a lightstone exploded near Stannis’ feet. The light flashed, and in the immediate aftermath a strange red smoke began to fill the streets. It came from the windows nearby, and floated from the first floor up towards the second. It smelled of pepper and it stuck the eyes of everyone attempting to press on.

Back in the tippy top of the tower Ehlek giggled with glee. He’d been watching the toa and matoran escape their crashed ship via several floating cameras (tied to balloons, he only had so much time to improvise). His troops would continue to harass the toa, and with luck make them negligible. The pepper gas could blind even the strongest willed for several minutes, and in the meantime His troops who’d been prepared with photoreductive goggles to block out the bright lights of their own weapons would continue to fire into the gas. Some would die, but that was a risk Ehlek was willing to take.

 

IC: Kalmah | Coliseum Parade Grounds

The shield flew from Kohara’s hands, Zataka yanked his chain, and suddenly Kalmah’s stable position turned into a head on collision with his blue opponent. Kohara’s own shield blocked her laser blast in an ironic twist of fate as it flew toward her crimson adversary. Kalmah continued using the power of his mask to create the portal in Zataka’s direction, knowing full well his crashing into her could send the two of them tumbling somewhere very different. The barraki had a new mask, and he was ready to learn its power on the fly. Literally.

Edited by Unreliable Narrator

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IC: Ostrox (Mata Nui)

Ostrox's glare of doom intensifies. "Oh, I must be. Are you going to answer my question and tell me where he is? Does he still have the Sphere, or did you only encounter that an hour ago, too?"


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IC: Thom - Onu-Metru Archives

The Skakdi grimaced as he finally ripped out the last pieces of the projectile, shaking his hand to try and get some of the blood off.

Nale would hear his firework revolver cocking as he aimed at the wound. 

"Well, ah don't have to tell ya how much this hurts." He murmured, forcing a grin to try and lighten the mood like usual, though not quite to the effect as he could have before. 

Then, Thom fired out a firework into the wound.

OOC: @Tarn

Edited by Dane

 

 

 

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ic Pridak Ko-Metru

Pridak stalked forward as the giant blue Turaga swept aside his forces, as the toa of sound brought down a knowledge tower onto the bridge, as the toa of gravity made his forces turn into tiny crumbled protodermis cubes, and as a particularly loud toa of air could be heard several stories down blasting into his troops. He rose a hand and his mask glowed as chains sprang to life from the nearby metal and slithered across the ground towards the Turaga and the toa of lightning.
"Varxii, how dare you! I will grind you beneath my heel for this betrayal." Pridak shouted across the battlefield. The ammunition in his shoulder mounted cordak launcher fully replenished, he released a few rounds in the direction of Varxii.


IC: Tuyet | Mirror
"Great, awesome, drop your weapon. And don't even think of doing that weird eye thing. I really hate when that happens." Tuyet said. She nodded her head at the rhotuka launcher in Sidra's hand. Tuyet would make her sword vanish once Sidra obeyed. Until then, she kept the gleaming weapon held casually in a low guard. 
She turned and looked at the other three toa in the room. Her white eyes glowed softly behind her mask. 
"Any problems? No? Great. Ghosty, get on fixing this thing. Tell the matoran what you need. They're not like the smartest or the brightest, but they listen good enough. Firespitter, there's tools behind you if you can help. You totally look like enough of a nerd to understand this ancient machine. And you, Buddy," she looked at Atamai carefully and distrustfully then smiled dangerously. "Don't fracking touch me again."
 

Edited by Unreliable Narrator

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IC: Knichou, Tuyetcave

Knichou opened his eyes, only now beginning to focus in detail on the machine's state of disrepair now that hostilities appeared to be ending. Knichou could tell based on Tuyet's attitude she clearly did not care about the details of the machine's mechanisms, having apparently spent her time thinking of dismissive things to say instead of studying electronics or physics. This could work to Knichou's advantage if he needed it to.

Knichou was still irritated at Tuyet ignoring his questions, and felt he deserved an answer before lifting a finger to begin repairs.

"You didn't answer my questions, Tuyet. How did you create this paradox? What is it, and how can you fix it?"

Edited by BULiK

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IC: Sidra - Tuyet's Lair

"With respect... I did just murder their Turaga. My weapons stay with me, for my own safety," Sidra, who had already holstered her launcher earlier, stepped further away from the machine. She kept her hands raised in a placating gesture, though she was more than ready to reach for her sword, dagger, or launcher if provoked. 

For all their claims of nobility, she knew all too well that there were Toa who were willing to break their precious code when it suited them. 

If Dume's words rang true, then they were even willing to kill their own kind if the stakes were high enough. 

She moved to sit atop a crate out of the way, and watched. It still felt wrong that four Toa - three of them brand new, and another allegedly back from the dead - should get to decide the fate of every other being and species in this universe. Their species had always been more interested in looking after their own kind instead of doing what was actually right for the universe as a whole, so Sidra didn't have any measure of confidence in their ability to get this right. 

But maybe they would surprise her.

And if not, at least she would be there to bear witness.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

IC: Zaliyah - Le-Metru Skyscraper

Pridak had been right, Ehlek really was an overthinker. 

He'd made it sound like a criticism in the moment, but as she watched the latest layer of Ehlek's trap unfold in the distance streets below, all Zaliyah could see were benefits. The green Barraki had thrown together quite a resourceful scheme with only a limited amount of time and resources to work with. 

She lowered her scope as the gas flooded the streets and the combatants were lost to her view. It had been difficult to be sure at this distance, but it had looked like there had only been a handful of attackers. She was surprised they'd made it as far as they had, but unless they had a Le-Toa on their side to clear the way, she doubted they would be making it much further. 

It was an ignoble end for the would-be liberators, but Zaliyah had no tears for them. 

The only tears she would shed in Metru Nui would be those of joy, when the wretched city was at last brought to heel. 

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IC: Oreius | Ga-Metru

"You can sense his weakness, I can feel it. You can end this threat permanently, protect those you have sworn to. And you know that it requires only one stroke..." 

Indeed, Oreius's mask detected all the weak points he had seen in Skorm concentrated in the Av-Matoran; the fearful, confused Matoran was the point that would cause Skorm the most pain.

The Toa wanted nothing more than to scour this bridge in cleansing fire. Whatever these... things were, they were abominations. They were unnatural, and only moments ago the sum of their parts, the Toa of Light and Shadow, had stood in his way. Stood between him and the Matoran he was sworn to protect. It would only take a moment. All he had to do was reach for that flame that burned in his chest, that gift from the Great Spirit, and let it out.

But something stopped him. He looked down at the Matoran and saw that it was afraid. Perhaps this was all a trick, and danger still lurked, ready to strike. Perhaps this being was only an illusion, or the bait on some trap that would spring shut the moment he lowered his guard. Perhaps... or perhaps not.

A flicker of colour ran across the Matoran's frame, like its armour reflected light that no one else could see. And Oreius remembered.

"I still don't get how you do it."

"Do what?"

The Ta-Matoran leaned back, hands behind his head. Before him, a yellow beach sloped down into the rolling surf.

"You know. Change colours."

The other Matoran shrugged, a splash of orange rippling across his body as he moved. "What's there to get? I'm an Av-Matoran. It's what we do."

"I know it's what you do, but I still don't get how."

The Ta-Matoran reached over and placed a hand on his companion's arm. As if on cue, the armour under his fingers bloomed green. The colour of the grass at the edge of the sand.

"It was white just a second ago. Now it's green. Did it really change? Or is it just an illusion?"

The other Matoran shrugged again. "I don't know. It's got something to do with light, I guess."

"Obviously."

His companion looked smug. "If it's so obvious, then why didn't you say so?"

The Ta-Matoran sighed and flopped back onto the sand. "Never mind."

A long moment passed, marked only by the slow, measured pace of the tide rolling up and down the sand. The Av-Matoran looked down at his green arm and frowned in concentration. The green withered under his gaze, his arm returning to a pristine white that matched the rest of his armour. He paused, then frowned again. The white darkened to a deep gold that splashed across his torso, quickly covering his entire body. When the colour settled, he looked over at his friend lying on his back.

"What do you think?" he asked.

The other Matoran looked over. "It looks good," he said vaguely.

"Good?"

"Yeah."

"Better than the white?"

"If you say so."

The now-gold Matoran smacked him on the shoulder. "Do you say so? I'm asking."

The Ta-Matoran shrugged helplessly. "You know what I'm going to say."

"That you don't care."

"No. That you look fine either way."

"Fine?"

"Okay. Great. You look great."

"Now you're just pandering."

The Ta-Matoran sat up, half-laughing. "I can't win with you."

"No." The Av-Matoran looked satisfied. "I'm always the winner."

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

"Then you're right."

The two of them sat in silence for a long time after that, watching the sun sink down towards the horizon. At last, the Av-Matoran spoke again.

"I just want to look good for tomorrow. You know. For the ceremony."

"You'll look great. Don't worry about it."

"Well, what if one of us is chosen to be a Toa? Does that mean..."

He seemed briefly lost for words. The other Matoran seemed to realize that this was the heart of the issue.

"If you become a Toa, then you'll be the best there's ever been. Don't worry."

"No. It's not that."

The Ta-Matoran looked confused. "What is it?"

"If one of us is chosen..." The Av-Matoran bit his lip and stared resolutely out at the horizon. "...then we'll leave. Maybe for good. Go off to be a Toa and I'll be left here..."

"Don't be crazy," the Ta-Matoran said sternly. "First of all, I won't be chosen. Who needs another Toa of Fire?"

He reached out and placed a hand on the other Matoran's shoulder.

"Second, I'd never leave you. I mean... how could I?"

"Easily."

"Don't say that," he said roughly, pulling the Av-Matoran in for a hug. "I mean it. I love you."

A long pause. Then the golden Matoran released a long breath and relaxed into his arms.

"...I love you too."

His vision suddenly blurry, the Toa of Fire stayed his hand. The fire in his palm went out, and he lowered his sword. He knelt down next to the Matoran, who looked at him with a mixture of confusion and terror. If this was a trap, then he would allow himself to be captured. For the sake of another Matoran, from another island and another time.

"It's alright," he said. "My name is Oreius. I'm here to help you."

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IC: Okuo - Tuyet's Grotto

Okuo sighed and shook his head, walking over to the indicated tools to pick up a tool box before turning around, warily glaring in Sidra's direction, though clearly relieved that she seemed to have relented. Walking back to the machine with the toolbox in hand, Okuo looked at Tuyet inquisitively. "And what does assassinating the Barraki warlords in the past have to do with it?"

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IC [Zataka, Coliseum]:

You’ve got to be kidding...

There was a flash as whatever Kohara had fired got intercepted by her own shield of all things. Whoever was writing this story had cruel timing it seemed.

Zataka heard the strange noise behind her, knew something was happening just at her back, but there was no time to turn around with the Barraki hurtling towards her. The only thing she had time for was to raise her blade up with her free hand and channel her energies into the weapon as it pointed at the warlord. She hoped Kalmah had enough momentum to skewer himself. 
 

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IC: Arkius vs Mantax - Archives Fisticuffs

Arkius’ elbow connecting with the pressure point sent a shiver of pain up Mantax’s leg and spine until reaching the base of his neck. Growling in frustration Mantax retaliated by swiping at the back of Arkius’ head. He could tell Arkius intended to keep his distance as much as possible. It made sense: if you’re smaller than your opponent stay light on your feet and be ready to dodge and evade. The difficulty for Mantax was needing to land just one clean grab on Arkius. Just one grab, and Mantax could break the warrior’s spine. 

Before Mantax could hit him over the head, Arkius had rolled under him, coming up behind him before flinging himself forth to wrap his arms around his waist for a firm grip, which if successful would be followed by a manoeuver that if pulled off would be sung about for centuries after. 

Arkius was going to try and suplex the giant warlord.

Arkius’ fingers just barely met on the opposite side of Mantax’s waist. The toa’s muscles bulged and his pistons hissed as he stepped back and lifted up with his upper body. Sweat splashed off his brow, and his fingers almost slipped, but suddenly the great warlord Mantax rose in the air and came crashing down to earth in a tremendous shockwave in the halo of the blue lightstones in the ceiling. Arkius had done the impossible. He’d tossed the giant to the earth like a meteor and left a crater to remind the world of his achievement.

Mantax smashed his back into the floor of the Archives, leaving a ring of shattered stone and depressed floor tiles as he disengaged with a kick and rolled aside to one knee. Mantax groaned and licked the blood from his lips. His neck hurt, his shoulders were on fire, steam rose from the sweat on his back evaporating from the heat of his rage, but he held his composure. He rocked his head back and forth, eliciting a loud crack from his neck as the joints popped back into place. Then, slowly, Mantax rose back to his full height. His body language spoke plainer than words ever could have: he had every intention of ripping Arkius to pieces. Mantax strode forward and attacked with a furious right hook.

Arkius felt the impact. Suplexing someone that big was not without consequences as Arkius tried to shake the daze out of his head, too late realising that the great titan he had just toppled was up again and throwing a megaton punch his way.

Arkius was thrown back, wind knocked out of him, brain scrambled, and he landed with a loud thud some distance away, for a moment motionless before finally he stirred, growling in pain as he got up again far too quickly for his body to handle, almost falling over again as he stumbled to get a solid footing, raising his fists limply before flexing his bruised muscles and taking a more proper stance, his eyes looking up at Mantax with a glare of defiance.

"My Turaga hit harder than that."

Mantax laughed at Arkius' insult. Then, with the thickest accent, Mantax spoke in matoran. His voice grated on the ears, his mouth not made to create the same sounds as fluidly. 

"I wish I could meet them. At least they'd be more of a challenge."

Arkius watched as Mantax approached again, once more swiping with an open palm to begin grappling. The warlord knew his strength: so long as they fought without weapons or masks he was confident in the ending.

Arkius rushed in underneath Mantax's swipe, aiming to thrust his elbow with all his might into just below the warlord's sternum.

Mantax's swipe overshot and spittle flew from his mouth as Arkius knocked the air out of the warlord with his attack. Mantax staggered backward, a hand reactively covering where he'd been hit. His eyes flickered with a moment of concern.

"Be thankful you got me instead." Arkius finally retorted, stepping back and taking a light stance in preparation for whatever the warlord did next.

Mantax huffed and feinted two quick jabs toward Arkius' head, then sidestepped to his right and swept wide his leg in the hopes of kicking Arkius back to the ground. Arkius ducked away from the first blow, and just barely managed to block the second one, wincing from the strain of handling the warlord's fist. As the warlord's leg swept at him, Arkius let himself get kicked over, leaning into the momentum to quickly roll back to his feet by Mantax's side where he went in for a kidney punch to the warlord's back, stunning the warlord momentarily.

OOC: Thanks to @Unreliable Narrator for the jam

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IC: Nale Vella - Archives

This was going to hurt far more than a skinny Skakdi's fingers in her knee, she thought, and Nale braced herself as Thom lined up the shot. He fired and she let out a cry of pain, gripping her leg as the firework round burned her--but, as excruciating as it was, the heat successfully cauterized the wound. Didn't mean walking from here on out would be any easier, but at least the Fa-Toa wasn't bleeding out any more. 

Nale struggled to her feet, now leaning against the wall again as she stood on one good leg and one not-so-good leg. "I...thanks," she said to the Skakdi, amazed she was thanking him for anything after he'd tried to duel and probably kill her. It was also the second time Thom had burnt her, in completely different contexts.

Meanwhile, there was still the duel doing on just around the corner. The Fa-Toa looked at the rifle at her feet and frowned.

@Dane

IC: Jutori - Le-Metru

Jutori slapped another eelman trying to sneak up on the group away with his sledgehammer. A reddish cloud was beginning to rise around them, and soon the Ba-Toa began to feel a stinging in his eyes and throat, and then started coughing.

"That's not... koff ...good..."

@EmperorWhenua@Snelly@That Matoran with a Vahi

Edited by Tarn
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IC: Thom - Onu-Metru Archives

There was a beat, as Thom listened to the duel, eyes tracing to Nale's own as he silently contemplated his options.

What would he do? What could he do? What was his purpose?

Blood dripped from his hand as the Skakdi looked around like a lost Hapaka.

"...Ah don't know what to do, Nale." He said, finally. "Ah saw 'orrible things, left behind people that coulda been me mates just to try ta 'ave a crack at ya."

He looked to Arkius and Mantax.

"Ain't about me, though. Had me chance to do somethin' meaningful."

OOC: @Tarn


 

 

 

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IC Kanohi - the Coliseum Border with Le-Metru

The skyscraper crumbled like a clump of sand, Matoran fleeing underneath. They were most made up of Le-Matoran refugees, clumsy on the ground and overwhelmed by the destruction of their homes, they were too slow and would not make it to safety in time. At least, without help.

Kanohi fired one of the freezing disks he was given, the stronger of the two. It slammed into the side of the skyscraper, plastering it in ice. Crystalline cold spread across it like a shadow, acting as a crude paste. The building’s collapse slowed to a crawl, still doomed but now it’s destruction was literally and figuratively frozen.

The vigilante grappled past and caught the disk, stowing it away before hooking another building. From his perch he fired one of his regeneration disks, mending a bit more of the support beams. He hurled across the street and grabbed that disk too, as the Matoran underneath fled for safety.

There was a sound not unlike a massive Ussal Crab clicking, and Kanohi turned his head around to see another building crumbling. Debris from the second slammed into the first shattering and breaking his ice. And he could still see a few Matoran under the collapsing structure’s shadow. 

Swallowing, Kanohi grappled under the collapsing building, arm outstretched. As he launched past his elbow hooked a Matoran, wrenching her free of the crumbling structure. The two Matoran tumbled into a heap and Kanohi shoved himself upright. He turned to lunge back into the chaos, only to see both skyscrapers collapse in an explosion of dust.

He stared at the destruction there … there were definitely Matoran still trapped in there, now crushed like leaves. Like snow beneath a Ko-Matoran foot.

Mister, we need to go,” the Matoran he had rescued tugged on him, and Kanohi shakily nodded. Hope … hopefully they would find peace on the Red Star. Or … or if … at least they would be remember by the living. He certainly would not forget them, what little he saw.

Numb and disassociated, he grabbed the blue Matoran and grappled away, flinging away from the shock wave of dust with each blast of his Volo Lutu Launchers. 

 

 

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IC: Ostrox (Mata Nui)

"Of COURSE he did. Treacherous, vile, rotting carcass - I'll have his HEAD! We must ESCAPE!" Ostrox did as Dume suggested, retracing his steps back to where he first manifested on the beach, the nightmarish visage of the meat maze firm in his mind...


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IC: Nale Vella - Archives

To be honest, Nale didn't know what to do either. Her eyes were affixed on the gun sitting by her.

"It isn't your only chance," she replied somewhat cryptically, but perhaps Thom detected what she meant: you can still help us.

@Dane


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IC: Dume | Cortex Memories

“Well, okay, by then.” Dume said halfway waving a hand as Ostrox stalked off back into the greenery. He looked over Irna who seemed to be delivering some bad news judging by how Ostrox took things. More importantly, someone else they knew offered some treasure called a Krom Sphere to the Great Spirit Mata-Nui and that was apparently bad. Curious. He knew of a Krom, but not a Krom Sphere. Maybe they were related? 

“You heading after him?” Dume asked.

Ostrox plowed through the jungle foliage with every intention of returning to the organic corridors of the Cortex. Strangely, his concentrated thoughts seemed to work and after a moment’s weirdness the trees and shrubs and boggy ground gave way to the pink and red corridors with the slick and slimy floor, silver liquid trickling down the center depression after leaking from the walls. Ostrox realized navigation was only a matter of imagination within the Cortex.

 

IC: Bohrok | Onu- Metru Archives

The bohrok were sufficiently satisfied with the cleaning of the lower levels of the Archives. It became paramount to begin cleaning the levels closer to the surface, where the commotions and earthquakes were occuring. Whatever lived above the lower levels of the Archives did not understand the need for a clean and simple life. Whatever lived above the lower levels would need to be cleaned. 

The bohrok rumbled through the hallways, making their way to elevators where, after much collective thought, they came to the consensus elevators did nothing.  Nothing at all. They were shiny boxes with fun doors to open and close and nothing more, and therefore must be cleaned. They cleaned the elevators, and then began digging their way upwards to the levels further above.

The Great God would wake soon. The world needed to be clean.

 

IC: Kalmah | Coliseum Parade Grounds

Kalmah felt Zataka’s sword slide into his shoulder socket, slicing his arm off from the force of his impact against her. Without time to fully realize the pain, adrenaline in his veins, he slammed into her and they both tumbled through the open portal behind her into an unknown dimension. The screams of the two warlords locked in combat echoed across the parade ground even after the portal closed. Kalmah’s left arm lay on the ground, a long chain trailing away through the dirt and the blood.

An eerie silence echoed through the parade grounds, and a soft wind rustled the fallen chains. Kalmah’s troops stood surrounded by vahki, toa, and crying matoran. They didn’t know what to do. Finally, one dropped his weapon and held his hands in the air. The others followed suit. “We surrender.”

 

IC Tuyet | Mirror Cavern Warehouse

The small orange matoran led by Tuyet went about collecting thrown objects for the next few minutes, quietly muttering to themselves. Occasionally one blew a raspberry at Sidra but that was the extent of their misbehavior. In time they’d make their way back to working on the machine, diligently, patiently, with the shared understanding they all possessed buried deep in their tiny, fractured minds.

"With respect... I did just murder their Turaga. My weapons stay with me, for my own safety,"

Sidra said as she made her way to a wooden box and sat down.

Tuyet let her sword vanish. “You murdered a version of my turaga as well, Hunter. I’m trying to show these newcomers how to, you know, be merciful after their leader died.”

"You didn't answer my questions, Tuyet. How did you create this paradox? What is it, and how can you fix it?"

Knichou didn’t move from where he stood, his stiffness indicating a general distrust for her. Tuyet nodded, understanding completely while she fiddled around with some of the loose wires on the time machine.

“I broke the machine when it was running,” Tuyet answered plainly without looking in Knichou’s direction. “Thought Lhi shouldn’t use it. Now I know I was totally wrong. He planned to use the powers of time to follow Dume’s instructions, kill the Brotherhood of Makuta, wipe ‘em out of history. Well, I think he kinda’ did that, haven’t seen one in the last five timelines I’ve been in. But I couldn’t bear to see a brother die, you know? Tried to stop him at the last minute. Didn’t work.” Her last words were softer. She let go of the wires and turned around, sitting down on the base of the time machine. “This device came from somewhere, a place out of time. Well, more like between time. That’s why there’s only one of it, you know? Someone in another paradox said the between time was, like, where are stories come from or where our collective subconscious lives, but I’m not really sure I believe them.”

"And what does assassinating the Barraki warlords in the past have to do with it?"

Asked Okuo as he brought the box Tuyet pointed out earlier over to her by the time machine. She began rummaging through the box for some wire cutters while she answered.

“Pretty much nothing, Firespitter. That was just like his idea. The other Tuyet was going along with it, but, well, I’m not really interested in editing the past here. The only past I need to edit is my own and then all our separate timelines can do, like, our own thing. Maybe we’ll see each other again someday. Hopefully not.”

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IC: Sans, Ko-Metru

Sans surveyed the battlefield and saw Pridak motioning to the surroundings.  "He's wearing... some mask..." Sans surmized, yet he couldn't identify its shape, let alone its power.  But when the metal strewn about the battlefield began to shift and contort into massive chains, Sans felt fear.  "No... it can't be..." yet it was.  Pridak had the Mask of Creation.  "Was Artakha dead?  How did this warlord King get his filthy hands on that mask?"  From his high-up perspective, Sans saw the chains slithering throughout the League's troops, on their way for him and his party, no doubt.  Sand looked down to his companions.  They were fighting, maybe not losing, but it was too slow to think they were winning.  Sans looked back at the chains that were almost upon them.  He knew he was quite the target, so he could imagine at least some of them were coming for him.  If he became wrapped up, it could mean death for him, surrounded by so many capable foes.  He knew what he had to do.

"I'm sorry for this," he spoke quietly.  It pained Sans to leave his party; if something happened to them, he would never forgive himself.  Maybe he should have came alone, but it would do no good to ponder such things now.  He only had moments to spare, and each was a precious as the last.  Sans picked himself up, and ran forward as fats as possible.  The chains rose up to entangle him, and he slammed his staff down into the ground, then leaped off it.  This massive Turaga pole vaulted over the chains, some of which changed their trajectory to try and follow him as he soared through the air.  This maneuver seemed to catch everyone off guard, for the blasts aimed at Sans couldn't keep up with his flying figure.  He landed in front of the platform where Pridak stood in his elegant armor, apparently fighting off some other foe?  The moment his footing was sure, Sans whirled around and swept away any foes within his staff's radius, then faced back towards the Barraki leader, and shouted as he approached, "Pridak!  Your reign ends here, this day!  I, Sans, shall be the one to hold your head high above this devastated land!"  Sans used his free hand to begin amassing a sphere of water above his head, and with his staff hand, made a simple swipe down towards Pridak.  With any luck, the Barraki King would be too slow in dodging, and thus be squashed like the vile bug he truly was.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator Sans is now fighting Pridak

Edited by Azibo

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IC: The Swordsman - Coliseum

"Good choice," came my reply as I walked past the surrendering soldiers, my blade drawn and ready to cut down any who might change their minds. It seemed the loyalty of the Vortixx I had interrogated earlier did not spread to his comrades, who once their leader was gone dropped their weapons, apparently directionless without the red-armored menace. I had left the warriors already present in the parade grounds to fight their battle, and the tall woman had succeeded, I thought. I came upon the arm Kalmah had left behind, and crouched beside it.

"Trust me," I whispered, knowing full-well the flagellant warlord could no longer hear me, "I know how it feels."

I stood and stomped the disembodied limb with my boot.

"Round up these soldiers, then. I don't think their leader is coming back any time soon."


@~Xemnas~@Onaku


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IC: Thom - Onu-Metru Archives

Thom stared at the two guns on the floor, discarded.

"Ya mate's gonna be ####ed off at me." He chuckled, before picking up his other revolver. His eyepatch was gone, he looked like a complete and utter mess, but he was still Thom. Still the stupid, big mouthed and skinny Skakdi. "See ya, sweetheart."

And, with an uncharacteristically agile jump out of cover, he dived, time grinding to a halt as he unloaded both of his weapons at the Skakdi that Kilo was engaged with, his enhanced reflexes and eyesight guiding his aim in mid air. 

Fireworks erupted from the barrel of his snubnose, as did a slug flying from his revolver, the projectiles ceasing once he hit solid ground on his shoulder.

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @pokemonlover360 @Tarn @Onaku


 

 

 

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IC, Atamai: Cavern

Atamai sat down on a box as well and said nothing. The whole day had been exhausting. Is this what it was like to be a Toa?

IC, Kohara: Coliseum

Kohara nodded and pointed her sword at the opposing forces. “C’mom, let’s have the Vahki take you away,” she said. 

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IC: Skyra Daring - Ko-Metru -

The league soldiers hadn't been prepared for Rose and Skyra's sneak attack and had been ended pretty quickly. The Toa of Air looked up, she could heard shouting and fighting several stories above...then needed to get up there. Skyra looked at Rose and her face frowned a bit. It would be easy enough for Skyra to fly up there, but Rose couldn't just ascend like that. 

She would have to carry her. Her jetpack could handle it, even if they went slower because of the extra body, but the main issue would be Skyra's own strength. Skyra figured she could manage it long enough to get them up there, but she was going to feel realllllllllly sore after this. 

"Hold still a second Rose..." Skyra said as she went behind the Toa of Fire and wrapped her arms around her waist tightly. "...I'm getting us up there." 

Skyra's jetpack roared to life as took the both of them up, using a enough of her element to power the jetpack so that it could lift the both of them. Her arms burned as she held onto Rose but she locked her hands together to make sure she didn't lose her grip. Would of been pretty awkward if she did...

What felt like an agonizing long time only took about twenty seconds as they reached several stories up, there was Pridak, fighting a...Turaga? Skyra landed quickly, collapsing on her hands and knees as soon as she put Rose down, her arms shook uncontrollably from the strain they just suffered. 

"Argghhhh...I'm never doing that again!" 

@Tarn@Unreliable Narrator@Azibo

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IC:

Irna watched Ostrox go, walking further and further away until he just ... was gone. Like a puff of smoke.

How did it go, the story that they would tell around the campfire when the night sky was black and starless? O, that this too, too solid flesh would melt, thaw and resolve itself into a dew. Irna could imagine the same thing happening to her. She could imagine herself turning to nothing but drops of water upon stone in the early hours of the morning, when the world was shiny and fresh and new. It was a better to be, she thought, than to be one of Lord Carapar's butchers. It was a better thing to be, she knew, than the woman who let a murderer become God.

Had Pridak known -- when he had sent her and Mazor with the Krom Sphere?

Had Metru-Nui known what slept beneath its Crown?

Had the world known, and she had just never been let in on the joke? Oh, mother. What am I to do?

Of course, the thought lingered -- she could stay here. On this beach, wherever it was. Until she died of old age, lost and forgotten. What would happen to her village, she wondered? Would they be all right? What would happen to Metru-Nui, and all the rest of the world? Did it matter if she ever left this place?

"That is the question," her mother would recite, crouched low over the fire. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and, by opposing, end them?"

How many more slings and arrows could she take? How long could she stay afloat in this sea of troubles until, raising her arms above her head--

"Mother," Irna muttered.

And then, against her better judgement, she suddenly imagined her mother's blood staining stone in the dead of night. Her father. Her brother. All her family, all her friends, all her people. Dead at the hands of a Matoran, or a Barraki, or a Great Spirit. Hadn't she set out on this quest in the first place to stop that? To protect them? Wasn't that what all this was for? Wasn't that the vow she had taken?

Irna reached up to her throat, and she touched the medallion there -- a broken hammer, now mended. The Zyglaki symbol for Karzahni, the god of misfits and outcasts. God of those who had broken against the waves of outrageous fortune -- and who put them back together again.

She breathed in.

She breathed out.

She turned to the Matoran, Dume, and she gave him a solemn and respectful bow.

And she followed Ostrox's path back to Metru-Nui.

Irna, sixth-born of Perror of the Northern Continent, had made a promise, after all.

-Void

Edited by Conway
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IC: Rose - Ko-Metru

"Thanks for the lift, hun," Rose said, Skyra's apparent exhaust from carrying her not registering with the larger woman. She turned to the two combatants, her gaze slowly pulling up towards the orb of water.

"Huh."


@Snelly@Azibo@Unreliable Narrator

Edited by Tarn

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The world vanished for Kanohi, shards of glass erupting from his eyes. He stumbled backwards, to see the shards of glass drifting in the void. As if a playful Garai user was making them dance. He stared and the shards bumbled and struck each other, with each collision green sparks striking between them. Until before his eyes the image had merged into a small chain of islands on the ocean.

Kanohi … his hands moved on its own, reaching out towards the island. As his hands extended the image rippled, like the fumes of the Great Furnace. Before Kanohi’s gaze he could see waves slamming into the islands, small huts pounded by the ocean. The water drew higher and higher, smothering the shanty-towns on the coast as a dying flame.

The Fe-Matoran felt his heartlight beat as a lighthouse, and his hands shot out, trying to push away the waves, shove the water aside. But the water slipped through his fingers, forcing his hands open. His optics shook in horror, he kept trying, but water was beyond him. He could only look as a marble of water spread across the islands like an infected mask, until the last town was pulverized into powder. As that town was shredded  a solitary crimson flag was uprooted from the force,  and slammed straight into his eyes, coiling around his head. Kanohi clawed at his face, struggling to get the banner off—

On 3/27/2020 at 5:32 PM, Unreliable Narrator said:

IC: Reliable Narrator | Le-Metru

IC Stannis | Le-Metru

In between the chaos sown by his sweeping the terrible beam of light power across the merfolk ranks Stannis' mind was in a state of zen-like calm. The old man hated fighting, disliked violence for violence's sake, and strove for peaceful resolutions in all that he did, but that did not place him above the basic ideas of practicality. While peace was always his end goal, he was a proponent for Mata Nui's faith and strove to stamp out the violent people who would uproot it. To him, the Barraki were usurpers of that faith, replacing Mata Nui's will with their own, supplanting Matoran-folk's place as the true favored people with their own kind, all because they . They said Mata Nui was dead and they were the real religion now—and they were right—but in their earnestness to throw the true god out they failed to realize the One True Prophesy:

Destiny is a wheel, and there was never anything new upon it.

The matoran Kanohi, somehow, could see glimpses of that wheel, and had shared it with Vashni who, in turn, shared it with the Wanderer. It meant nothing, and yet everything, a sign that what had been will be, and there would always be another foe to try and make Destiny their own. He knew that crimson banner in the vision, he'd seen it before, long ago, too long to remember what host It belonged to, but it belonged to an enemy for another day, another turn of the wheel. Would Stannis himself face it, as he had the Barraki, and the ones before them? He did not know, and he did not cling to the hope that he would be. But he was assured that there would always be a Wanderer. 

...

And then, abruptly, the merfolk seemed to vanish, harassing them no longer, at least for the moment. The old toa and his friends paused to catch their breath—Stannis especially—and collect themselves in a plan for the next step of their assault. He knew better than to think they had cut through the entirety of Ehlek's host's blockade already; the conniving one was almost certainly about to release his newest trap. The inexhaustible clinking of BO-1337P's metal heels clipped up beside Stannis. 

"Toa Stannis, this unit needs to inform you that Zataka dispatched four squads of Bordakh to the shores of Le-Metru. They have entered Le-Metru airspace."

Stannis nodded in thanks, glad he kept the unit along with him for these exact moments. Unit BO-1337P was his link to the Coliseum and Zataka, and the warlord was holding her end of the bargain so far, it seemed. The vahki may not be enough to sway the battle, but they could divert some of Ehlek's attention and give Stannis the chance he needed. At that moment, luckily or not, the Kanohi Haonga's power reset. And then the surprise came.

It started as just the single lightstone bolt, and then quickly escalated to a patter and then hailing of bolts as the reddish gasses disbursed into the air around the small group. Time was short—and already Jutori was feeling the effects of it, and Jabali, with her smaller physiology, was likely feeling worse off yet—and the warmage needed to be decisive in the next steps. "BO-1337P, weaken disk, on the ground!" he commanded, and the enforcer dutifully complied by teleporting a kanoka to its mandibles and shooting it as directed; meanwhile, Stannis threw up a quick shield of stone to block out the explosive lighstone energy rounds from their front, relying on the others to watch the back. He took a single pace forward and stomped his foot where the kanoka had landed. The ground fractured, but did not give, and he followed with a second strike, and this time a hole opened up in the street. "Follow me!" he said as he jumped down through the hole, praying for momentary solace below.

Once the others reached him in the understreet they caught the elementalist focusing hard on something, eyes shut and mouth mumbling. In his hand he held one of his spears and pointed it ahead. He remained thusly for a few more seconds, but when he opened his eyes he revealed that he had not busied himself with programming his great mask but rather summoning his true powers; he had been feeling the realm around him, attuning himself to the priced of stone that existed across Le-Metru in the cobblestoned streets, in the masonry of buildings, in the asphalt of the roads. He felt their place like a blind man feeling a face, and brought them in to his own essence. It was no Po-aligned domain, but where there was even a single rock, Stannis commanded it, and its power was his.

Grasping the spear firmly with both hands he entrenched his feet in a stronger stance, and then gave a powerful shout, and his elemental stone powers poured out from the tip of the weapon with the force of an earthquake. And it continued to pour out. All the granite, gneiss, limestone, and sandstone Stannis felt around him had been absorbed and then shot out from the spear, punching through streets and foundations like an auger bit on a battering ram. 

From above ground, Ehlek could see from his cameras a mysterious eruption from where he last noted the interlopers, and something akin to a burrowing mole sliced through the undercity, causing buildings to tremble and edifices to crumble slightly. And that chaos grew, stretching like an unseen hand, and zoomed its way... directly towards the Barraki's tower.

...

When Stannis was finished he staggered forward, only barely catching himself with the spear as a staff. He panted, exhausted from the incredible burst, and felt the sweat trickling down his face splatter on the ground and splash his knee. But ahead, where he had focused his powers, was a perfectly hewn tunnel of pure stone. "There... we are..." he said between ragged breaths. "Our foe... will be waiting for us... at the end of this path. Let's go... give him [karz]."

 

Edited by EmperorWhenua
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OOC: probably the last Kanohi post of Escapement, it’s been a pleasure, see you all next season. 

IC Kanohi - the Coliseum Border with Le-Metru

Why were Matoran put in the universe? Just to suffer?  Where was Mata-Nui during all this destruction? Why was he letting the league slaughter millions, destroy whole civilizations? Why was he letting the powerless Matoran be butchered?

Kanohi … did not know. He didn’t know how Mata-Nui could let this happen. He was not smart enough, not wise enough. As towers crumbled, bridges collapse, and the very island seemed to shatter, there … there was no point. The war was senseless. All these deaths, all this art, technology, homes and airships destroyed … there could not no meaning from it. And if … if a Turaga told him that something good could come from this horror … Kanohi honestly didn’t know what he would do.

There was no point, no lesson, no moral. Just genocide and destruction. It was the end of the universe, at least the end of its time as the Matoran Universe.

But still, Kanohi grappled. He launched across the city, swiping Matoran off crumbling bridges and collapsing skyscrapers, freezing and mending the structures long enough for the Matoran to evacuate. It was … all he could do.

He was not the savior of Metru-Nui, not a brilliant Nynrah Ghost, not a noble Toa nor a wise Turaga. He was powerless in the face of the city’s horrid destiny. Nothing he did could change how the war would end. Nothing he did would matter in the face of this war. So all that mattered, was what he did.

Small tasks, manageable tasks. Catch the Matoran, mend the bridge enough for a crowd to flee across, remove the poison from a crowd caught up in a caustic cloud, just … do what he could in this end of days. His hands trembled, his heartlight pounded like a dwindling flame, he could feel his gears twirl in his chest. But he would keep going. He had his duty to the Matoran, he believed in them, even if Mata-Nui had failed them, he would not abandon his fellow Matoran. 

And so he kept lunging into the fray, devoted to saving as many as he could from the war even as his body rattled. For Unity. For Duty. For the Matoran. 

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"Danger is the anvil on which trust is forged"-Jaller(Jala) :smilejala: 
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IC: Vashni - Le-Metru -

Vashni spun her bike around as the gas began to spread and Stannis shouted, she speed over to them quickly, parking the bike and following Stannis down the hole. Hopefully her bike would still be intact when she went looking for it later...if there was a later anyway. 

It didn't really matter in the end, as sentimental as the bike was, it was just that, a bike. Vashni nodded to Stannis, starting to head down the tunnel already. She had her powers activated passively, it would be impossible for the enemy to sneak up on them with her constantly scanning the area around them for mental activity. 

"I'm going to give him karz alright...and then some." She had a pretty good idea of what she wanted to do to Ehlek, though she'd keep it as a surprise for now. She had a feeling it was something no one would see coming. 

@EmperorWhenua@Tarn@That Matoran with a Vahi

Edited by Snelly


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IC: Knichou, Tuyetcave

"Okuo, get that power cable replaced, and could somebody undo the panels at the back of each slot spire?" Knichou ordered as he began to move towards the machine, taking a detailed look at the internals of the control panel. He didn't stop his questions.

"So how have you transferred between five timelines? What is that like?"


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IC: Jutori - Le-Metru

The Ba-Toa coughed his way down the hole Stannis had created, following the group into Le-Metru's brand new tunnel system created by the older Po-Toa. Jutori rubbed his eyes. "That was quick thinking, Stannis," he said, coming up alongside his mentor. He hefted his sledgehammer over his shoulder and peered down the tunnel, amber optics narrowing at the thought of what they'd have to do. With the group's combined efforts, Metru Nui would have one less warlord running amok.

He just wasn't sure if that meant killing Ehlek...or whatever Vashni had in mind.

"Let's," he replied to both comrades before he began walking ahead. 


@EmperorWhenua@Snelly@That Matoran with a Vahi

IC: Nale Vella - Archives

The Fa-Toa stayed behind. Thom was pursuing his own destiny now, and here she was slumped against the wall, staring down her weapon like it was staring right back. All it had done was bring her trouble, and her actions with it continued to hang in the back of her mind. Nale sighed and picked it up. One last time, she thought.

Nale braced the rifle's barrel against the corner, taking aim at Mantax's leg and firing, ensuring the warlord wouldn't be able to move again before the final blow was delivered against him.


OOC: The floor is Kilo's.

@Dane@Onaku@pokemonlover360@Unreliable Narrator

Edited by Tarn
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IC Stannis | Le-Metru

The old toa surprisingly took the rear of the group, but not until he offered a lightstone to Vashni. The tunnel he had created was devoid of illumination and darker than sin, and while it was just a straight line common sense said you are less likely to trip if you can see where your feet are. Meaning for the journey to be a one-way trip, he sealed the entrance as he began the walk by closing the dome. 

The vahki came up beside Stannis once again. In its monotone, it explained, "Toa Stannis, this unit's directive is to help you get to the tower." It looked down the toa's weathered frame, through the holes in the great grey cloak, and at the exhausted countenance he displayed from the incredible sustained use of his powers, and tilted its head in what could be understood as either algorithmic cunning curiosity... or the merest trace of empathy. "Do you? Require help?"

"No..." Stannis replied stubbornly as he struggled to push himself back up to his feet with his spear—until unit BO-1337P offered the stub of its left arm to the old toa and helped the rest of the way. 

And so Stannis wandered ahead, behind the rest, and a little more slowly perhaps, but pushing ahead. Ever forward to fate's maw.

 

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IC: Vashni - Le-Metru -

Vashni didn't stop, or even slow down really. She concidered slowing down a bit for Stannis, but figured he'd find that insulting to say the least, so she didn't. He was getting up their in years, but he still fought like he was a freshly made Toa, it inspired Vashni to push on. Before coming to Metru-Nui, Vashni had mostly been alone, certainly never part of a Toa team...it had been rather lonely at times. 

So, despite the immense danger they were in, Vashni felt rather content despite the circumstances. They were going to beat Ehlek, she had no doubt in her mind at all. They just had to get there and do it. 

And soon enough, they reached the end of the tunnel, they found themselves in what was most likely once a parking garage for Matoran and the like, it was wide and vast, with multiple vehicles parked all around, many of them damaged from the earthquake caused when Stannis made the tunnel. 

"Stay on guard..." 

@EmperorWhenua@Tarn@That Matoran with a Vahi

Edited by Snelly


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21 hours ago, Unreliable Narrator said:

Pridak Ko-Metru

2 hours ago, Azibo said:

Sans, Ko-Metru

IC Leklo & Korruhn | Ko-Metru

Toa Leklo charged to follow after Turaga Sans and swing his glowing swords to and fro like a quirt. He didn't hesitate in doing the act; to the former Alpinist this was natural and utterly exhilarating. The chains that erupted like striking snakes were neatly cut by the superheated edges of the swords. At his back was Korruhn, savagely throwing land sharks like rag dolls, yet only barely keeping them from overwhelming even his formidable powers.

Ko-Metru was their home, Metru Nui their world, and Pridak the single largest threat he fathomed in the moment. In the heat of the moment the doubts over Dume and the status of the toa Mangai. All there was was the Barraki invasion... in his home. 

What were the chances Sans' vanguard would succeed? Leklo wondered; his mask was glowing. He would do all that he could to protect his home,, 

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Posted (edited)

IC: Barraki Pridak | Ko-Metru, Battle For The Bridge

Barraki Pridak watched Turaga Sans rush forward through his troops, dodging the chains and channeling his blast of water above his head. Pridak knew the move. Many a toa of water used a ball of water as a killing blow. Sadly, once he learned the trick to it Pridak found the attack rather mundane despite its size. There were two main points to the attack: it allowed the elementalist to batter their foe with the sheer liquid mass hurtling at great speed, and if you could catch your opponent in the swirling waters you could drown them. 

Raising his hand, Pridak thought of making a nice cup of tea and the boiling water turning to steam in the kettle. Before him Sans conjured water from the surrounding air, and now Pridak released his thoughts to the mask of creation to make the water return to the air as steam. At least, that’s what he thought he did.

Something glowed deep in the chaos of the fighters in the center of the icy bridge: Leklo’s kanohi pea, the mask of possibilities. The toa of plasma suddenly felt a great energy drain overcome him as his mask glowed and sapped his strength, his thoughts clear and crisp in tipping the scales in Sans’ favor. What Leklo didn’t know about his mask was he was fighting a mythical force, creation, and to change such an act required more energy than to win a hand of cards. But it worked.

And Sans ball of water crashed against Pridak’s armor, knocking him back along the bridge towards the rear of his forces. The chaos of the attack broke his concentration, the boiling water burned his skin, and Pridak screamed as the chains and manacles around Matrak and the chains snaking through the fighting towards Varxii turned to rust, and the rust turned to russet particles of metal floating away on the wind.

Pridak began to stand back up, steam rising from where he landed as the boiling water started to melt a hole in the bridge, then cool and form a puddle.

 

IC: Grell | Onu-Metru, Archives duel with Kilo

Grell’s eyes widened as she watched a white skakdi leap from the hallway, body parallel to the ground, guns outstretched, firing at her, the bullets sailing ever so slowly through a world that seemed to move with the thickness of cold honey dripping from the fork during a rushed breakfast. Grell felt the bullet punch into her torso, gasping in shock, and she saw the firework sailing towards her.

Strangest of all, she felt herself flying, but when she fell she saw the rest of her body, beheaded, flopping to the floor as he consciousness rolled away down the hall inside her skull to eventually fade into death.

 

IC: Barraki Mantax | Onu-Metru, Archives duel with Arkius

A flaming burst of pain rocked through Mantax not from the kidney punch by the toa of stone, but from the metal slag punching through his leg. Silver blood sprayed across the ground and so Mantax fell, tumbled, and tried to stand only with a horrid snapping sound as his shin gave way. He shouted to the skakdi with the staff, who in a sudden panic threw the spear to his master. The weapon sailed through the air…

The guards witnessing the duel, and the riders on kikanalo, roared in contempt at the sudden breaking of honor. They raised their weapons and began to fire indiscriminately at Kilo-M9, the white skakdi falling to the ground after his stunt, the toa in the hallway in partial cover, and at the toa of Earth, Arkius, who until then had held his end of the bargain. Honor had been betrayed, and the soldiers of Mantax were unwilling to let this blemish on Mantax’s dueling record remain.

 

IC: Vahki Responding to Kohara | Coliseum, Parade Grounds

At Kohara’s request the vahki stepped forward and began to escort the new prisoners away. What she didn’t see once the vahki had pulled the prisoners into an elevator was the mass slaughter of Kalmah’s contingent. They screamed on the elevator down, never having expected to be bitten to death by the police, but by the time the prison floor was reached the vahki were dragging silent corpses to a single large room: the garbage disposal. They had run out of cells. This was the next step in standard operations. Dume didn’t know this step. Only the vahki who determined it most efficient did.

 

IC: Ehlek | Le-Metru, Ehlek’s Tower

“They’re coming Zaliyah,” Ehlek said after the stones finished rumbling. He knew who led the small group. He saw the video footage. “Stannis is coming. We must prepare for him! Set up sling traps, broken elevators, things that shock and things that go boom. We have very little time. Place marbles under the welcome mat to the bathrooms. Disable any vahki. We are working so well and I would hate to see our visitors arriving any time soon. In fact, I’m not interested in visitors today. I’d prefer to celebrate the conquest of Le-Metru and the city as a whole.” 

 

IC: Tuyet | Mirror Cavern Warehouse

“Yeah… No, It’s not fun,” Tuyet said as she tried to make herself useful with Knichou’s directions on fixing the machine. “Generally involves lots of blood and dying and getting woken up somewhere else if I’m being totally honest. Like, you die right? But then you step into the shoes of you, but not you like the other you, in that world. It gets confusing. What’s worse is I don’t get to, like, know what my other me was thinking before she died. There’s some weird me’s. Real weird. Like, one of them decided to go murder a bunch of matoran and blame it on the Dark Hunters. I never figured out what happened there. I got locked up and killed in a cell by the Order of Mata-Nui. Why?”

 

IC: Mata-Nui | Mata-Nui

Ostrox, Irna, and Mazor left the Cortex to wander the halls of their god’s mind. They played in the memories of times before their god’s time. The avatar of Mata-Nui’s conscious mind stared at the Krom Sphere in his hands, and he felt for the first time free of its terror. He knew of time, and he knew of the time before time, but the time between was beyond even the gods, its own legend closed off from reality like the closed covers of a storybook tucked away on an abandoned shelf.

The Krom Sphere haunted him. It was his only weakness in a world of his own imagination. All protoderms regardless of breed existed within his body to serve in their own salvation. All were his people, not just the matoran but the skakdi, the vortixx, the steltians, and many, many more sentient forms of life beyond counting. They once served in cleaning his body, caring for the system that kept them safe and adrift from the horrors of the long forgotten darkness.

Or they once did. Mata-Nui felt the pollution, the heated waters, the twisted metal towers punching their roots into his organs. He felt his protodermis blood full of boats, and polluting craft that clogged his veins and caused the clots that stopped his heart. He felt the never ending cycle of death being renounced, no doubt the work of the Krom Sphere to keep him contained, forced and shunned from awakening. His own consciousness was forever at war with the Time Being. But in a way, his cancerous vessel, a kaita forged in death, as it was now carried him to the place he belonged. Had Tren Krom helped? Or was it only a coincidence? There was no way of knowing.

Mata-Nui looked to the chair. Inside the Cortex of his own mind rose the chair to pilot his body. It required his consciousness and his soul. He walked forward, stepping up onto the platform. His hand reached out and he brushed the side of the metal chair that rose like the shell of an egg up and then over where his head would be. He remembered piloting this vessel before, once as Akamai and again as Wairuha. He remembered piloting away from the forgotten endless night, and then, he fell asleep; an endless sleep, a sleep without dreams, or so he thought.

Mata-Nui’s hands grew hot as he stared at the Krom Sphere between his palms and imagined it melting away. The more he thought of his unbinding from the haunting regions between the hours of the clock the more the Krom Sphere dissolved until at last he’d bought his freedom. He cast the liquid remnants of his jailor to the floor, where it bubbled and hissed and cooled into a silver scar.

Then he sat in his chair and became himself again. The soul of the Great Spirit remained both in the Untethered kaita that carried his soul home and in the only world the beings inside him had ever known.

And as the stars above Metru-Nui vanished, and the suns and moons rolled away to the East and West, the Great Spirit revived and everyone could finally behold the stars, the real heavenly bodies, high above, outside, and beyond the empty angles of Mata-Nui’s face.

He raised his arms in the space of the solar system.

He stretched, and the islands inside him were flushed with waves.

He lifted his head to face the sun he orbited millions of lightyears away.

And then a terribly large asteroid crashed into his neck. 

And another.

And another.

And another as they had for over 100,000 years. 

His neck was too fragile to move after the centuries of punishment adrift in an asteroid belt, and in looking to the center of his known world he broke. His breath faded, his neck snapped, and his head began to drift away. 

And as he died again, the moments between the hour of the clock took hold.

Tren Krom won.

They were pulled into his storybook.

 

“... Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune …

“…’Tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep —

To sleep – perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub,

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil…”

 (Hamlet, Act-III, Scene-I, Lines 66-68)

 

 

OOC: We have successfully reached THE END of Six Kingdoms Escapement!! Congratulations on the Rebirth ending for this game. You have 24 hours to respond to the world being tore apart and being sent adrift until, quite suddenly everything crash lands in an unknown world...  The Time Between Time.  We will explore starting Monday in Six Kingdoms: Rebirth!

Edited by Unreliable Narrator
Game Over
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Posted (edited)

IC: Zaliyah - Le-Metru Skyscraper

"They think capturing or killing you will end the occupation," Zaliyah mused, joining Ehlek. "Credit where it's due, they're certainly persistent. But from what I've heard their leader has been fighting us for quite some time..." 

Stannis. She knew the name, and the legend it had made claim to, but she didn't fear it. Behind every legend was an ordinary man or woman, and when that man or woman died that legend died with them.

At the end of the day, Stannis was just another Toa. He had principles. He had morals. He had a code.

And those were weaknesses that Zaliyah knew how to exploit. 

"Do the speakers still work? You could issue an ultimatum, order your men to start executing the Matoran if the Toa don't surr-"

The words died in her throat as the world fell apart around her. 

 

Edited by Nato the Traveler
Edited to acknowledge end of game.
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Posted (edited)

IC: Sans, Battle with Pridak

The Barraki King rose from the attack as Sans fought within his own mind to retain his giant form.  Exhausted from the use of his element, exhausted from the fighting, exhausted from the fall from the sky to the ground, Sans could feel he was at his limits.  He didn't have anything clever left in him.  If Pridak got back up, his counterattack would surely be fueled by his mighty wrath.  Sans couldn't afford to fail now.  Pridak would kill him without a second thought, and more than his own life, Sans worried about the new Toa's fates if he were to perish before them. 

Sans jumped in the air with all strength he had left, raised a fist towards the sky, then brought his arm down into a pointed elbow.  Sans would drive his giant, blue elbow all the way down to Karzahni so long as he crushed Pridak in doing so.  And crushing the Takean warlord was all Sans could hope to do.  He wouldn't be able to keep his enlarged form after feeling the pain of slamming himself into the cold and kind of wet ground.

OOC: This happens before the Dead God living then dying stuff

Edited by Azibo

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Wait, this isn't dancing_lariska.gif..?   Six Kingdoms Rebirth: Sans Gaius Amaru Lrrthxx Kokaliga

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