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IC: Druu and Amarth - The Wombat

Amarth hadn't gotten this far by being careless. Keeping her senses about her, the vortixx had avoided placing herself in the way of the Vahki's staff, and as the machine moved its weapon to place her in its line of fire, Amarth narrowly avoided its shot, the very next moment having placed her gun at point blank range, the barrel aiming for the processor as she pulled the trigger.

Druu, meanwhile, avoided yet another strike from the imposing Poroka, on account of weapon twisting up on itself and attacking its wielder's hand instead. Despite the two being at deadly odds, Druu couldn't help but wince at the sight of the mangling weapon twisting around Poroka's hand. He then winced at the pain shooting through him from his now myriad wounds.

@Eyru@Toru Nui@Sparticus147

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IC: Ostrox (Metru-Koro Outskirts)

"Of course." Ostrox began walking towards the ramshackle collection of huts that probably would have collapsed with or without an attack sooner or later. Perhaps this was why Skorm insisted on being distinct from these creatures, he was embarrassed of his new living quarters.

He wasn’t concerned about the other Toa’s mention of the League standing down. It was probably a ploy to psychologically manipulate him, but even if it wasn’t, nothing would come of it. The Toa were too high on their constant power-trip and their fanatical self-righteous zeal for that. If they weren’t… well, there wouldn’t be a war in the first place.

@Keeper of Kraata@Conway@Tarn@The UltimoScorp@TL01 NUVA

 

IC: Tekmo (Zakaz Airspace, The Wombat)

For some reason, part of Tekmo was glad that Poroka had refused. He hadn’t exacted righteous fury upon anyone since Skorm, and he was as much a victim of the League as anyone. It was unlikely that this creature was in a similar predicament.

"I WILL CRUSH EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY IF I MUST!" Vines erupted from Tekmo’s left arm - right from Poroka’s perspective - and they moved to ensnare and constrain the four-armed one.

@Eyru@Sparticus147@Onaku

 

IC: Klawne (Metru-Koro)

The noise of the combat above had ceased. Klawne slowly emerged from the depths of the New Archives. She saw the Razorfish suspended over the village, not attacking. She held her breath, in apprehension of what could happen next...

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Profile picture done by Onaku.

:infected:

 

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Posted (edited)

IC Kathrine of the Flame - Metru Koro Outskirts:

"They gave up? That's a relief! Well c'mon guys, let's hurry up and get back!"

Edited by The UltimoScorp

Credit and thanks go to @Onaku for the wonderful art that is my profile picture!

                                                                                                                                                       

                                                                                           The Unofficial Guide to TBRPG Combat!

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IC: Poroka & Company | Aboard the Wombat

The green Vahki whirs at Knichou's command, but before it can obey or not, a new transmission comes in.

"This is Toa Zaliyah of the League of Six Kingdoms, calling all vessels in the vicinity! The battle is over! The people of Metru-Koro have agreed to discuss terms! All ships, cease hostilities!" 

"That your captain? I'd suggest turning this ship around."

Evidently, the Toa of Iron has received the broadcast too. The green Vahki's eyes flicker briefly as it processes this new information.

"It is not the captain of this vessel," it says, its correction buzzing in Knichou's ear. "However, as she is the commanding officer on this mission, we will obey her instructions."

It presses a button to repeat Zaliyah's broadcast over the ship's intercom.

* * *

The brown Vahki's shot misses. Its opponent is agile. She fires her gun, but the robotic soldier is already folding into quadrupedal mode. The bullet pings off the wall of the airship.

The Vahki scuttles back on three legs, charging a disk as it retreats towards the bridge, its eyes still flickering periodically to Druu.

* * *

The red Vahki pokes its head out from the cargo bay to see a battle in progress.

"You are in violation of several major airspace codes," it chirps to no one in particular. "Cease your resistance."

* * *

Suddenly Poroka's hand really hurt. Try to hit new person, but miss. Sword go funny and turn into ball around Poroka's hand. Feels like teeth. Ouch! Poroka try to drop it, but can't. It's stuck!

"Rrrrrgh!" Poroka growls. Feel angry.

Other sword still good. Poroka swing other sword at new person!

"I WILL CRUSH EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY IF I MUST!" 

Someone's yelling. Sword arm get caught in vines suddenly. Not hit new person. That really make Poroka have frustrate feeling!

In this kind of time, when feeling angry, Poroka remember Mama's advice...

* * *

"Remember, my little fish," she'd say, bouncing her four-armed son on her knee. "What do you do with the mad that you feel? When you feel so mad you could bite? When the whole wide world feels oh so wrong, and nothing you do seems very right?

"What do you do? Do you punch a bag? Do you pound some clay or dough? Or, my sweet little darling child...

"Do you rip out your enemies' throats?"

* * *

Poroka roar, and swing arm hard. Vines pull new new person and smash him into ship wall! Other arm rip free from vines, smashing weird sword-ball into ship wall and make huge dent.

Poroka hold on to ceiling with tentacles, then pull up and try kick new person in the face!

Some message play on radio? Whatever. Poroka not hear. Too busy being mad.

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IC: Viltia - Toa of the Green - Metru-Nui Refugees

Location - Le-Metru Nuva, On the Northwestern fringes of (7, 13) in the Fau Swamp

 

The Muaka roared before biting and crushing the shell of the Metru Mantis. The Metru Mantis screeched, its two heads trying to snip back at the aggressor with its two sets of mandibles. The Muaka snapped again, its head lunging forward and the Metru Mantis gurgled as life slowly left it’s body. Its bladed arms lowering and the heads tilting to the sides. The Muaka retracted its head, shook its body, and strolled off into the swamp until Viltia lost her connection to its mind.

Viltia sighed, de-powering her Kanohi and blinking rapidly to readjust her optics. She still was focusing too hard and lost herself when she used her mask. But she supposed it had only been a few days. Her control would grow as she continued to practice for the millennia to come. She just hoped she could learn enough fast enough to keep Le-Metru Nuva safe in the here and now.

She approached the Metru Mantis and made sure it was dead. Two quick laser crossbow bolts to the head confirmed it. She wished she could control insects as well as she could Rahi with her Kanohi, but sometimes they were too stubborn. Whatever caused this swamp to mutate allowed them to grow more intelligent the larger they got. It was creepy.

Insects were supposed to be cute and help sustain plants, not murder all they saw. All the insects here were either too big or not helpful for the growth of any plants. She sat down, waiting, as a Matoran that had been above her went back to the village. This Metru Mantis’ body had materials the village needed. After all the organic protodermis was stripped off for food, there were several useful parts that could be repurposed.

As she sat there waiting she thought of Sorilax and his little sidekick Sala who hid in that mech most of the time they had been in the village. She understood now why Torch seemed so swayed by his philosophy. The Aspect talked in facts and made clear where things became uncertain and separated what his personal ideas were. He even talked of his nature as an Aspect. It had been very weird to have a being worn you that they were inherently selfish and manipulative. Was telling them this knowledge manipulative in and of itself?

She shook her head. She wasn’t cut out for deep reasoning like that. She would follow her instincts and her instincts said to trust him. After all, his ideas were going to lead to the imprisoned Skakdi’s execution. She wished the village leaders would just get it over with already and make their decision. The Skakdi was worthy of death, why delay things?

Viltia kept her anger towards Skakdi stoked. It helped her forget the friends she had lost and the pain associated with her memories of them. Sorilax had also found what remained of the rest of her friends, yet another reason to trust him. He didn’t have to do that and yet he had done it anyway. And she was thinking about her dead friends now anyway!

Viltia was glad when a Steltian showed up to help her drag the Metru Mantis back to the village. It allowed her to be once more in the present and out of the past. The past hurt and only seemed to cause her pain.

The short walk back to the village was uneventful and Viltia bid farewell to the disassembly team as they got to work on the body. As she meandered around the swamp floor, she was surprised to realize how relatively safe and casual she felt. Just a week prior she had been desperately surviving in the Fau Swamp. Staying alive due to a healthy sprinkling of dumb luck and Destiny. Now she was near a place kept relatively safe, more confident in her powers, and even more confident in her mask power.

She found herself outside the forge. She heard hammers clanging away as heat emanated from the building. Viltia looked up, spotting someone keeping watch from the trees above. Good. She stepped into the mud brick building and smiled when she saw Beruv hard at work. Her friend certainly had thrown herself into trying to figure out how Kanoka were different on this island. Torch was there as well, crafting tools and equipment with another Ta-Matoran. Match, maybe, she thought his name was.

Beruv spotted her, “Ah Viltia! I just had a giant breakthrough!” The female Ta-Matoran motioned her over. Viltia found the heat surprisingly bearable after spending a week in the humidity of the Fau Swamp. She knew in her past visits to Beruv’s forge the heat had been almost unbearable. How times had changed. Beruv held up two pieces of protodermic ore, “Do these look the same to you?

Viltia took them from the Matoran, turning both over in each hand, inspecting them. “Is… one more silver than the other?

Beruv looked impressed, “Wow, very nice. That one took me a couple days. In the past all protodermis was the same, but not here. Not on Zakaz.” She took back the ores, “This one that is more silver is inert. It removes any powers you try to acquire through forging a Kanoka. This is only good as building material or for turning into protosteel, though we don’t have the technology here to accomplish that yet.

The black and red Ta-Matoran motioned to three Kanoka discs Viltia hadn’t noticed, “I was able to create three level one Kanoka with this knowledge. All random powers. It was only when I inspected the other ore closer that I noticed…” She set down the silvery ore and picked up another one, holding both close to each other. Viltia couldn’t see a difference this time. Beruv grabbed a lightstone and held it up to the ores. Suddenly Viltia could tell they were slightly different hues. Beruv continued, “...that under brighter light, you can tell these ores are either tinted slightly red, blue, green, or black.

Beruv grabbed two discs from her workbench, “Both of these are regeneration, level one. Though they are from different Metrus. I used two ores, the same ones each time. I’m starting to figure things out. There seems to be more to crafting and forging Kanoka than just that, but I’m getting closer. We actually have working discs! She smiled and Viltia joined in. It was good to have something to smile about. Viltia's mind happily looked to the future and what they might be able to possibly build here.

But there wasn’t much more to discuss, merely more research to be done. So Viltia bid her friend, Torch, and Match farewell and went back on patrol. She was surprised by how much she had enjoyed that. Old her would have hated the forges and hearing about heating techniques. But hearing Beruv and even Torch excitedly talk about their potential future here made her appreciate many more things in life. Who knows, maybe one day she would ask Beruv, Torch, and Match to teach her how to forge, and she could teach them how to grow a proper garden!

Edited by Kal the Guardian
Missed some formatting.
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-----------------------------

 

--------- Six Kingdoms: Rebirth Profiles: Saybo, Sorilax, Viltia, Cravious, and Hahvok   ---------

--------- Description of Sorilax's Avagah or Dawnguard, Saybo's Eclipse, and Cravious' Debt Collector and Cube ---------

 

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

 

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IC: Knichou, Metru-Koro Airspace, Atop the Wombat

Though the Vahki had relayed the message throughout the ship, it hasn't made any visible effort to slow the Wombat down. Knichou kept his rifle leveled over the Vahki's chest and continued to transmit over the Vahki's frequency.

"Whatever deal your commander is trying to work out, it won't get anywhere if this ship is still flying away with Metruan fighters aboard. And unless her ship magically sprouts a new engine, this ship is her only ticket out of here."

"So turn. This ship. Around"

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Visit BZPRPG.com to view my WIP project of archiving BZPower's RPGs!

BZPRPG Profiles - Exo-Force RPG Profiles - Six Kingdoms: Rebirth Profile

 

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IC: Druu and Amarth - The Wombat

Amarth followed the Vahki with her firearm, taking several more shots aimed at the unit's head, be it to take out its processor, optical receptors, or disk launcher.

Druu roared, throwing himself to the side and grabbing for Poroka's outstretched leg, where should he manage to grab it, a furious punch would immedately follow, a fist holding a red hot brass knuckle aimed for the titan's knee.

@Eyru@Toru Nui@Sparticus147

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Posted (edited)

IC: Zaliyah - The Razorfish 

The message was sent, though she wasn't sure if it had been received. There was no telling if her League comrades would accept her decision; Pridak had been quite clear about there being no more chances for the Matoran, but given how disastrously the attack had gone, she hoped Ostrox and Poroka would see the sense in seizing a compromise. 

"Pilots, what's the status of the plasma cannon?" She called out, making sure the radio wasn't picking up her words. 

"Safely removed, as requested." Came the reply, "This unit requests information on what you intend to do with the device?" 

"Nothing, for now," she replied. Being a pressurised vessel with an in-built power source, and filled with volatile plasma, the cannon could have easily functioned as an impromptu bomb. If her request for a ceasefire had failed, she'd been planning to rig it to detonate then drop the Razorfish on the village, denying assets to the enemy and hopefully inflicting some significant damage in the process. Fortunately, that hadn't proved necessary. "Just strap it in, and start to bring us down."

She flicked the radio back on, cycling back to the channel for the handheld she'd tossed down earlier, "I'm coming down. I trust we won't be fired upon." 

@Onaku

Edited by Nato the Traveler
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___________________________________________________

My Corpus Rahkshi Profiles

Six Kingdoms Profiles

Skyrise  Ascent

___________________________________________________

Legends Don't Last Forever

 

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IC: Iradra - Metru-Koro

"I can assure you of my own non-violent intentions." Iradra responded matter-of-factly. "But I hold no command here. I can only try to persuade others to respect this ceasefire, and there's no guarantee they'll listen. Keep your guard up."

@Nato the Traveler

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IC: Mega - Yaushe's Van

Mega was going to ask Navu what exactly that look was for, when Triage spoke up. "Well, we heard her over the comms. Or, I assume it was her. Haven't actually heard her voice before, but she did say her-"

Berys' call interrupted her, and despite everything, she smiled. Thank goodness... she hoped this wasn't some kind of trick.

 

IC: Yaushe - The Taku

Only a little annoyed she'd been ignored- it was the calling of a ceasefire, after all, and she was more than happy to stop the fight, herself- she was more concerned about the call put out. The Matoran had agreed? She'd assumed that the attacking party was the one that couldn't be reasoned with, given the circumstances, but... Well, she was hearing it from one of the people firing on the ship, she assumed. They were surely going to be a little biased... the same way people aboard the Taku were going to be a little biased their way.

Something familiar tugged at the back of her mind, but she couldn't for the life (or death) of her figure out what.

Instead, she focused her power and willed the storm to disperse. If the fighting was over, that was all she needed to hear. Clouds gave way to stars once more.

She'd never had this magnitude of power at her metaphorical fingertips before. It was... strange. Usage of it was tentative, because she felt as if she was going to overexert something... but never did. She hadn't wanted to push too far; she'd never taken over something this big before, and didn't want to find out the hard way what the limits were.

She looked around, and noted the very damaged ship below them. In the gunfire and rush to protect the ship, she hadn't really registered much else except protecting those on board.

"This is Yaushe, currently... flying the Taku," she said over the same radio frequency she'd received the message from. "I see a damaged ship close to ground. Do you need assistance landing safely?"

Might as well offer. Make a good impression for a peace treaty and all that.

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Memoirs of the Dead entry: The Unknown Turaga, a tale from the late Chronicler Kodan's journal.


Strakk's Best Friend, the story of a confusing yet somehow canon friendship.


Terrible Comics, a collection of comics that are terrible.

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IC: Jephro-Metru-Koro

As Jephro staired at the corpse of Turaga Sans his thougths were traveling faster than a phase dragon. He had assumed that turuga sans was just doing what was best for the village, but his actions had lead to it's destruction, and now it sounded like they were going to have to surrender. Turaga are supposed to be our wise leaders, he thought, Why would he do something so stupid? And why did I belive him? Why wouldn't the lady on the walkie-Talkie back down? I thougt it was obvious we had won.

IC: Mazor-Metru-Koro Outskirts @Toru Nui

After Several days of travel, Mazor and Gnabol had entered the desert, making the trek back to Metru-Koro, They heard explosions going off. As they crested the last hill, the saw Metru-Koro, burning, but quiet. It seemed whatever battle had been going on was finally over. "Wow," Mazor mumbled to his companion. "Don't we have immpeccable timing."

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Six Kingdoms Characters: Mazor, Jephro, The Janitor, Informant

 

 

 

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IC [Coliseum]:

The laughter, its pitch - the audacity of this Skyra. Very well then. I was determined that one of these two was going to watch the life go out of the other, didn’t matter which one went first. I hissed with satisfaction as my blade got its first taste of blood in this fight and I moved to follow up before Rose could retrieve her firearm. I took a step forward when the Toa suddenly flung her shield towards me. A last ditch attempt to buy herself some time, to be sure, but a foolish move. I was not going to be felled in a single shot and with her shield gone she would not get a chance at more than one. I was just about to bat it aside when I felt a sudden gust, heard a whistling noise and my proximity warning went off again. I barely got my arm up in time before something shattered against my armor and flew past my face, leaving hot streaks across my cheek and temple and I felt liquid run down my face. Glass. I barely had time to process the cuts, when the shield hit and I was knocked back, my telekinetic hold over Skyra broken. I had to give credit to the green gnat, she didn’t give up - of course I was going to have to take away that credit immediately for her lacking the common decency of knowing when it was her time to die.

And then, suddenly, I was cut off from the duo by a sudden surge of rock. I turned towards a mechanical screech and saw one of the Vahki pushed backwards by one of the barricades, one of it’s legs shattered and trapped. Ehlek would be miffed.

"Repent, Pridak!"

Finally.

I spun, and saw Stannis charging at me, spear raised. For a split second, my mind flashed back to Daxia, the day of our declaration of secession. The Toa had been there. He had always had the old and wise look to him, even in our younger days. But his haggard appearance now - if it wasn’t for the force with which he spoke and moved - he looked as if his body had died eons ago and forgot to tell him. I guess that part was up to me. Good. These traitors had thought to use him as bait for me. Bait me! I would show them what happened when the shark took the bait! 

I had seen a thousand charges, broken a thousand spears! The weapon and its wielder coming at me were old and familiar. Stannis charged with the courage of a righteous man, certain in his belief, his hand guided by faith. Too bad there was no one to hear his prayers. A shame someone with such conviction would choose to fight for a lost cause. How much suffering he could have prevented.

My arm came up and caught the spear mid-thrust, gauntlet clamped tightly around the shaft. My servos and muscles strained as I brought the attack to a stop, though not before the tip pierced the protective plate below my collarbone. The pain barely registered in the moment, as our eyes met, staring daggers at each other. I smiled through gritted teeth. His hands were both still on his weapon. My sword hand was free. Without breaking our eye-contact I lined up the tip of my blade with his abdomen and shoved.


-----

The Vahki wasted no time: The instant Saybo stopped moving, it’s command staff fired, catching the Toa in mid-air. The hive had assessed the situation, and as there were no other units on the scene at this moment and the attackers had the advantage, using the Toa instead of neutralizing him was the preferred course of action. A single, overriding command filled Saybo’s mind: Defend Pridak and his allies.

Behind the Vahki, the Vortixx was busy trying to dislodge the last bit of water from their ears, head tilted sideways, knocking on its side with the opposite hand. Thanks to the Vahki’s nullification, the sphere had suddenly collapsed and drenched their entire upper body, but that was infinitely preferable to the alternative of drowning on dry land. What a nasty way to go. No wonder the league wanted to rid the world of beings with such menacing powers! They quickly looked around, taking in the situation - and spotted the Steltian, breaking from cover and charging towards Pridak. Just as he did, the barricades began to move, rushing towards them. The secretary immediately burst into action, vaulting the rock barricade and charged at Waveahk in turn, trying to intercept his attack and strike him with their griffin gauntlets in turn.

The other nullifier Vahki  on this side of the room was standing far enough back to avoid the repositioning of the barricades.With its original target being engaged by the Vortixx and not wanting to risk an ally, it quickly moved on to the next target: Toa Skyra was still flying, surprisingly unhurt, but cut off from interfering further with Pridak by Stannis. The Vahki took aim and started firing its eraser staves and Kanoka.

Across the room, the Vahki that had backed up Achro flipped around into quadruped mode and took flight.

 

IC [Zataka - Aboard the Tactical Panda]:

A realization began to dawn on the warlord. “Is that what you’re calling it, or is that the common name?”

She activated her Suletu to listen in on the thoughts of all the others in the cabin for the reply. Questions had the nasty habit of bringing thoughts with answers to mind. Whether they vocalized it or not, she’d get her answer. One of those little quirks of the mind. Don’t think of a pink Muaka. Can’t be done. She had no time for mind games over trivial information, especially not if her hunch turned out to be correct.
 

OOC: @EmperorWhenua@Eyru@Toru Nui@Snelly@~Xemnas~@Kal the Guardian@Tarn@pokemonlover360

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8 hours ago, ZippyWharrgarbl said:

IC: Yaushe - The Taku

"This is Yaushe, currently... flying the Taku," she said over the same radio frequency she'd received the message from. "I see a damaged ship. Do you need assistance landing safely?"

IC: Zaliyah - The Razorfish 

To say that the Razor was flying at this point was a bit generous, but Zaliyah appreciated the sentiment. At least some of the locals seemed to be taking the ceasefire seriously. "We're fine. Just don't be directly underneath us." As she spoke, the Vahki in the cockpit above were carefully beginning to retract a few of the levitation disks away from the framework. Once the weight of the ship outmatched the power of the remaining disks, the ship began to slowly sink towards the surface. 


___________________________________________________

My Corpus Rahkshi Profiles

Six Kingdoms Profiles

Skyrise  Ascent

___________________________________________________

Legends Don't Last Forever

 

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Posted (edited)

IC: Irna | Desert

Irna walked next to Ostrox, spear at the ready. She had hardly known him long enough to know whether or not he would try ... something in a situation like this. But she knew, for sure, that he was too dangerous an individual to let her guard slip.

OOC: @Toru Nui @Keeper of Kraata

IC: Parnassus | Irnakk's Tooth

If Parnassus was surprised by Barius' change in tone, they didn't express it. If they were taken aback by the newfound piety of a man who had claimed -- to an Aspect -- to accept no god as his own, then Parnassus made no sign of it. They merely stood back up on their feet, before looking back to where Corrivalis and the others were threading a careful path through the shaking tunnel.

"You heard him," the Aspect called out. "Let's none of us dawdle."

OOC: @Nato the Traveler @Burnmad @Sparticus147

-Void

Edited by Conway
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IC: Drukarus (Irnakk's Tooth)

As the very earth and walls of the cavernous crevice began to shake and the bellowing scent of ash and cinder filled the air, the gaping maw of the Nightmare Pit glowed with a sinister and malevolent fire and Drukarus was left to stand, facing this terrible display. 

"Was this what Marrow spoke of? Was this the Rite of the Tahtorak he had heard about?" Drukarus pondered on what he was witnessing. Back on old Zakaz, there were tales of great rahi, some large enough to wrap around the entire island, but this...This was different. This was tangible, this was happening right in front of him, right now. This wasn't some story or fable, this was an actual example of a force beyond the norm. And with it, came a genuine sense of dread that Drukarus couldn't even suppress from his own face.

Looking down towards the kneeling Barius, Drukarus thought to himself whether or not he should end it now. It would be easy too. His injuries, his kneeling stature, the unexpectedness of it. Drukarus with one good swing down onto the skakdi's skull, and he would be dead. But that would not solve the problem with the monster that was being birthed before him, and so he held his urges to himself.

"You heard him, let's none of us dawdle."

The Aspects words, echoing the speech of Barius, broke the tension as Drukarus turned along with the rest of the warskak to escape the volcanic wrath that was occuring. But, hesitating for a brief second, Drukarus took a moment to look back and thought of the mesi he came here with. "What a waste."

OOC: @Burnmad @Keeper of Kraata @Nato the Traveler @Conway

IC: Apex (The Fau Swamp)

Apex followed Morangad through the swamp, trusting this strange being, much to her own chagrin. Thankfully for this being, that more then once and over-eager Fikou spider, or patient swamp stalker had been averted from attacking the being by Apex's will. Apex needed this Morangad, and perhaps even, she could use this Morangad for more then just a guide to this new Fau Swamp.

"May I ask what you hope to find?"

Apex thought on this for a brief moment, she remembered great ruins, she remembered dark powers, and she remembered ancient rites. But Apex didn't remember the full facts, although the shadows of her mind have waned, those deep crevices within her memory were still darkened...And Apex was starting to think it was not simply because of her time imprisoned.

"I seek the ruins. There I hope to find...Power, dark and great powers...Taboos! That what they were called. They were ancient powers that were left to be forgotten by time. But assuming the skakdi haven't just destroyed them yet, I do not think time has yet removed them from their foundations."

As Apex's thoughts dwelled upon her memories before her imprisonment, they slowly made their way to that fateful day, and a singular word pierced her mind. As this name came to her mind, the log she had her clawed hand upon was shattered in two by her monstrous grip as she turned towards Morangad with a fierce, wrath filled, predatory glare.

"Do you know...The Skakdi...Nektann!?" Apex uttered out through growls and barks.

OOC: @Burnmad

IC: Gore Fury (THE CUBE)

Finishing the last of the paperwork and the fish, Gore let out a satisfied blerb of a beltch before Cravious had joined him and Sagacious at the table.

Now before you go, I have some questions about the technology level of this ‘Metru Nui’. What do you know of them? Did they have artificial intelligence? Could they fly?

"Huh, alrighty then friend. Metru-Nui, I gotta say, from Vortixxian trade cities, to Steltian elite capitals, I don't think I ever found a place as nice as Metru-Nui. Its clean, its modern, and it got great food. McTorans, Burger Toa, Whendi's all of it is great. On top of that, unlike other places, food places are actually businesses and not just local or family functionaries, it's capitalized and that's great...Except when you're trying to get into the kitchen with a bunch of matoran and trying to learn how they cook their food. Got thrown out of a few places by Vhaki enforcers for that."

OOC: @Kal the Guardian

IC: Vulimai (The Wombat)

Looking at the situation as is, Vulimai recognized that she couldn't fight the brute before her. Vhaki, sure, this thing, never in a million years. What she needed to do, was to get past it and get to the helm and hope there was just Vhaki at the wheel...That was till the intercoms opened.

"This is Toa Zaliyah of the League of Six Kingdoms, calling all vessels in the vicinity! The battle is over! The people of Metru-Koro have agreed to discuss terms! All ships, cease hostilities!" 

"A ceasefire? How could a ceasefire have occurred, either the other boarders have been very successful, or Sans decided to give the most heartfelt apology of his life. And the latter sounds like a joke he would say himself. Regardless, this fighting needs to stop."

"Lay Down Your Arms! Lay Down Your Arms!" Vulimai began to call out to the combatants, as with her free hand, she readied to toss the level five Ta-Kanoka of weakness at anyone who didn't heed her words.

OOC: @Eyru @Toru Nui @Onaku

Edited by Sparticus147
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IC: Poroka & Company | Aboard the Wombat

The green Vahki beeps in Knichou's ear. "Her command was to cease hostilities. Not to cease movement. Until an overriding command is given, this ship must continue to obey its captain's last directive."

Its yellow eyes do not blink. It is not afraid. But neither is it brave. It simply is. It cannot be anything else.

"My programming does not allow me to contradict my captain's orders. Even to preserve my own safety."

It pauses.

"Unfortunately, I do not calculate a favourable outcome for myself in this scenario."

* * *

Zaliyah's broadcast continues to blare over the intercom:

"This is Toa Zaliyah of the League of Six Kingdoms, calling all vessels in the vicinity! The battle is over! The people of Metru-Koro have agreed to discuss terms! All ships, cease hostilities! ... This is Toa Zaliyah of the League of Six Kingdoms, calling all vessels in the vicinity! The battle is over! The people of Metru-Koro have agreed to discuss terms! All ships, cease hostilities!"  

The red Vahki obediently retreats to the cargo bay.

* * *

The brown Vahki fires its disk, but the first of Amarth's shots blows out one of its optical receptors, and the second rips through its onboard launching mechanism, sending the disk off course. It flies past Amarth—she doesn't even need to dodge—and hits the biggest target onboard.

* * *

New person dodge kick. Grab Poroka leg and try to punch it. But before can do anything, something hit Poroka in the back.

Not hard. It not hurt. But suddenly... Poroka feeling funny.

Poroka feeling... big.

* * *

The Wombat glides almost silently through the night on its course towards the fallen skull of Mata Nui. Its engines hum pleasantly, but they are not loud. Most of the work is done by the levitation Kanoka, and the only noise they make is a gentle ping whenever they strike the hull of the vessel to keep it airborne. 

Hours ago, the night was cloudy and dark, and the League ships used that darkness as cover to slip undetected towards Metru-Koro. Now, however, the clouds have drifted apart, and the stars shine down upon the silver hull of the ship. It glimmers softly in the dark under the light of constellations its builders never saw, and soars over a land they never imagined.

The night is tranquil. Then the peace is broken by the sound of metal breaking.

A massive fist punches through one side of the ship, and then its counterpart punches through the other side. A massive, luminescent head bursts through the silver hull, glowing blue and yellow. The head opens its gaping maw and roars a challenge into the night. It raises a metal-enveloped fist, ripping through the hull effortlessly as it does so, then brings it down on the stern of the ship, crushing the engines like a tin can. They emit a flare of blue fire in brief protest, and then are silent.

The stars continue to twinkle merrily from their places in the sky.

Inside the ship, however, the mood is not quite so cheerful.

Edited by Eyru
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IC: Zsann, the Taku, somewhere outside the cargo bay

Zsann didn't make it very far before doubts crept up on her. No, doubts was not the right word. Could she leave them back there? What if something happened while she was not there.
What if the cargo bay took another hit? A hit that would strike the van, send everyone who was inside plummeting to their deaths, a hit that would damage the ship so much it would affect Yaushe. A hit that would take her friends away.

What
if

She had barely noticed that she wasn't walking anymore. Arms wrapped tightly around her torso, Zsann leaned on the nearest wall and tried to steady her breath, calm her mind, shove those thoughts away, but to no avail, at least at first... It took a while. By now she could have been to the bridge and back. Easily.

The Skakdi held out one of her hands. At least it had stopped shaking. Mostly.

She took one last deep breath, and with a resigned sigh, turned to move back to the cargo bay, back to the van. Even though she probably wasn't too much of help there, she figured it was better than completely losing her composure or not being able to focus on anything at the bridge.
As she walked back up to the van and opened the door to climb back inside, she just hoped it wasn't too obvious what she had just gone through.

OOC: @ZippyWharrgarbl @Toru Nui @Tarn

Edited by Taka Nuvia
fixed two very annoying typos
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 SKR Profile: Zsann || My art collection topic - updated! (30/06/2020)

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IC: Achro and Waveahk (The Coliseum, Throne Room)

Achro was surprised by the fact that Oreius chose to punch his blade. Delighted, but surprised regardless, as it was enough to knock it out of Achro's hand, leaving it clattering away on the floor. With a burst of elemental energy, the remaining blade caught fire as Achro took hold of it with two hands, intending to overpower his foe.

Waveahk didn’t have time for this. He felt the thing in his arm writhe and convulse as he called upon it to levitate him up into the air, keeping the momentum of his charge to try and float over her. He fired a concussive blast at the receptionist as he did so.

@Vezok's Friend@Eyru@EmperorWhenua@Tarn@Snelly@~Xemnas~@Kal the Guardian

 

IC: Tekmo (Zakaz Airspace, The Wombat)

Tekmo was rather groggy after being slammed into the wall - again - and thus didn’t quite comprehend the gravity of the situation.

"HOW DARE YOU?! RETURN TO NORMAL SIZE SO I CAN FIGHT YOU PROPERLY!"

@Eyru@Sparticus147@Onaku

 

IC: NU-8020S (Po-Koro Outskirts, Vahki Transport)

Those standing guard at Po-Koro's gates saw the perhaps familiar sight of a Vahki Transport approaching the village at a fair speed.

@Harvali@Onaku

 

IC: Gnabol (Metru-Koro Outskirts)

"I’m beginning to rethink this plan, but... we’ve come this far. Let’s see if the 'nobility' of the Toa means anything..." Gnabol continued to trudge towards the village, calming the Skaklets he was carrying as he did so.

@Smudge8

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Profile picture done by Onaku.

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IC: Knichou, Zakaz Airspace, Atop the Wombat

Now Knichou was really frustrated. Arguing a machine was not something he enjoyed, and even though the last time he tried to talk his way around a Vahki was unsuccessful, he still had to give this a chance to as to not risk further delaying any negotiations. He knew he had to lead the Vahki to his conclusion logically, so the engineer took a second to gather his argument.

"According to the chain of command, her command supersedes those of your captain. While her command was to cease hostilities and not specifically movement, the act of moving this ship back to Metru-Nui with unwilling prisoners aboard is still inherently a hostile acti-"

Knichou was interrupted by the sound of the hull breaking behind him. He pulled the lightstone rifle from the hole and whirled around to see a massive glowing head roaring in rage.

"What the Karz are you?"

Edited by BULiK
Language

Visit BZPRPG.com to view my WIP project of archiving BZPower's RPGs!

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IC: Ardoku

Helkyrie's words stayed with me. Even as I tried to sleep, I found myself unable to move past them, or Lionnel's reaction to them. My ghost was behind me? What did that mean? I recalled vague notions connected to the word, and Helkyrie's words before that. The dead. A ghost is the dead? But how could I have a ghost? I didn't feel dead. I sighed, turning on my sleeping surface, trying to recall the events of the night.

“I can see your ghost behind you.”

After looking at Helkyrie incredulously for a considerable interval of time, I'd finally deigned to look over my shoulder, but seeing nothing, I turned back to her, only to realise she was gone. I decided to brush it off, finishing my soup and watching the strange movements of some of the villagers around the fire, noticing that they seemed to correspond to the noise some of the other villagers produced with various strange objects. I was later told these movements were called dancing, the noise called music, and the objects were called musical instruments.

The night went on, and eventually Helkyrie's words had faded from my mind as the festivities came to a close. Meeting with Lionnel again, I told him of my strange conversation with Helkyrie, all lf which he seemed very used to… well, all but the last thing she said.

“She said... she saw your ghost behind you?"

“Yeah. Is that unusual for her?"

Lionnel was silent for a moment, looking quite thoughtful, before he finally replied. “Yes… yes I think it is. I don't think I've ever heard her say that."

“But what does it even mean? My ghost behind me?"

“I… don't know."

“So it's nonsense?"

Lionnel furiously shook his head in response. “In all the time I've known her, she's never been anything other than utterly truthful and perfectly candid in all matters. Even to her own detriment a lot of the time."

“So… is she seeing things?"

Lionnel's face twisted into something I could tell wasn't very good. “She does see things, yes. Real things. Hidden things. Things beyond our ability to see or, at times, even comprehend. And everything she says has had a truth to it revealed later on, though most in the village would like to think otherwise."

I couldn't think of anything to say to that, and our conversation ended there. Afterwards, Lionnel showed me the way back to what I'd learned was his own house in the village. I also soon realised that there was only one bed in the house, and that Lionnel intended to sleep on a soft but smaller surface he told me was called a couch, but I declined taking his bed from him, and after a bit of back and forth he relented the couch to me instead.

And so I found myself lying on Lionnel's couch, unable to sleep, my mind occupied by what Helkyrie had said. The noise from outside soon died out as everyone else apparently went to sleep, and I was left with the faint sound of the wind, my eyes in near complete darkness. Soon even the wind outside seemed to die down, and I was left only with the sound of my own breathing, and the beat of my heartlight. The rhythms of both soon lulled my eyes closed, and total blackness took over my vision.

I then realised I couldn't hear my breathing or my heartlight.

The very next thing I realised was that even with my eyes wide open, I couldn't see a thing. That was when I felt hands grabbing me. I yelled, but no sound came out. I tried to struggle, but I couldn't overcome the ones holding me. I felt myself being carried off the couch, and I realised I was being taken out of the house.

Trying to maintain a sense of direction turned out to be futile, and I soon found myself disoriented, before I was finally thrown to the ground, slamming painfully against a rocky wall, groaning inaudibly before every noise slammed back into my senses at once, and I could suddenly see where I was, as well as the ones who'd brought me here. Two skakdi, one leaner with mostly grey armour but some green markings, and one bigger and beefier, with red and black armour and a lot more spines than other Skakdi I'd seen. I cautiously got back on my feet, their eyes not once leaving me.

"You've got a lot of nerve showing your face here, Toa. Did you really think you could just waltz into our neighbourhood without repercussions?" The bigger Skakdi spoke in a gruff voice, her dark eyes looking at me with something I finally recalled to be named disgust. I was confused, but my mind briefly wandered back to the gathering, and the way some present there had looked at me, realising I remembered the yellow eyes of the grey clad Skakdi looking at me with scorn.

“I don't want any trouble. I was brought in without my knowledge or consent, and if you want me to leave then I-"

"You're not going anywhere, punk. We're not gonna let you tell your masters where we are so you can root us out again."

I was utterly confounded by that statement. Did toa usually have masters? Did I have a master I'd forgotten? I couldn't really be sure, but something about that concept felt off to me. “I don't know any masters. I don't know anyone. The people of this village are the first I can remember ever mee-"

"Cut the scrap! You may have fooled that trusting idiot Lionnel but we see through you!"

I wasn't even given a chance to respond this time as the bigger one punched me right in the gut. The air emptied from my lungs in a pained wheeze, and I quickly found myself on the ground again, where the Skakdi continued her assault, kicking me lying down. For a second I thought I recalled that being a saying, before the assault distracted me with more pain.

“Stop! What are you doing?!" The familiar voice of Lionnel suddenly cut through the air, and the kicking promptly stopped, giving me a momentary reprieve to look over where his voice had come from. Indeed, a familiar green visage appeared at the end of the canyon alley, but additionally I noticed Helkyrie lurking behind him. Lionnel's red eyes had come to a firm rest on my assailant, while Helkyrie's eerie white eyes met with mine, an inscrutable expression on her features contrasting Lionnel's visible outrage.

"We're taking care of your mess, runt, be thankful we decided to-"

“Shut up! I'm sick of being second guessed for everything I do! Let him go, Omi! Now!" Promptly, Lionnel drew a sword from his side, a sword I recognised as my own, its white blade gleaming in the starlight from up above. My two assailants laughed in response. 

"Go home before you hurt yourself, whelp." From her back, Omi retrieved a bigger sword, one which she levelled at the smaller Lionnel, taking on a solid stance… or, well, I at least suspected it to be, though I couldn't remember why. Regardless of this, I wasn't thrilled to see Lionnel put himself in danger for me. For a few tense moments, everyone in that alley stood still. 

Then the alleyway exploded into motion.

Lionnel and Omi charged each other, and meanwhile, the grey and green Skakdi retrieved two axes, turning to me with a scowl before she charged me, while I hadn't even gotten on my feet again. Looking at her, though, I saw clear as day that her form was unrefined, all over the place, with an obvious opening in the middle. On instinct, I threw an upward kick into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and sending her falling on her behind, giving me time to get my feet under me.

Lionnel and Omi clashed, and in a single manoeuvre, the larger Skakdi had easily disarmed Lionnel of his weapon, the white blade flying out of his grasp and crashing to the ground behind his opponent. Just within reach for me.

I jumped for it, but by then Omi's accomplice had gotten back up; I had barely gotten my hand on the sword before she crashed into me, wildly swinging her axes without technique. Amateur.

But then what was I?

More adept than her, it appeared. With little effort, I'd rolled away from her impact before coming up for a stance that felt right for the occasion, raising the sword at the yet charging assailant before easily disarming her of both her axes, finishing with the sword raised up and pointed to her throat. This certainly got her attention, and she immediately stopped in her tracks. Behind her, however, I noticed to my dismay Lionnel getting a heavy left hook to the face and falling limp to the ground before the formidable Omi turned around, with me realising only at that moment her eyes were pitch black. 

Noticing I was distracted, her accomplice batted aside the sword and tried to charge me, but with instinctual ease, I brought the pommel of the sword down on her head, knocking her to the ground. It was just me and Omi now… Wait, where was Helkyrie?

A loud thud to Omi's head answered my question. As the greater adversary fell to the ground, I saw Helkyrie standing there with an implement of some kind, though I couldn't seem to remembe-

“A shovel."

“I'm sorry?"

“This is a shovel." She said, indicating the object she was holding.

“Okay, but how did y-"

“We need to get out of here. Help me with Lionnel, quickly now." Helkyrie knelt by Lionnel, shaking him a bit to no effect before gesturing me over. Making my way to them, I instinctually went to sheathe my sword, only to realise and then remember the scabbard was not on my waist, but Lionnel's. I knelt down while looking him over, quickly noticing the scabbard hastily fastened to his waist which I reached over to untie.

“This isn't the time for that." Helkyrie chided, looking at me with her cold white eyes.

“It'll only take a second." Indeed, the scabbard was barely fastened to Lionnel's waist. I knew it would only take a couple swift movements to get it off him, and it was but a moment later I was proven right as the whole thing slid off Lionnel. Quickly sheathing my sword into the scabbard, I was about to fasten it around my own waist when suddenly I heard something from behind me.

“ARDOKU, LOOK OUT!" Helkyrie shouted, just as I whirled around to see Omi's accomplice running at me with her axe, raising it above her head to attack me. I instinctually reached for my sword, but realised I was too late; she would get me, lackluster technique or not, before I'd gotten my sword. I was going to die.

But then she stopped, and I retrieved my sword before bringing it up defensively. A pained yelp escaped the assailant's lips, preceding a dying gasp as the reason why she stopped revealed itself; a blade pierced out through her heartlight. Her eyes dimmed, and after the blade retracted back through the broken heartlight, she fell to the ground, dead. There, over her body, stood a being that very much didn't look like a skakdi at all.

"Toa Ardoku." She spoke, a strange reverberation to the stranger's deep voice.

“Y-yes?" I croaked, unsure how to really process all of this.

"Come with me. We have much to discuss."

I furrowed my brow. “I… I can't. I need to help-"

“Go." Helkyrie said, interrupting me. “There are no more paths for you to walk here. Go with her. I'll take care of Lionnel."

I paused for a moment, not entirely sure how to process this. Lionnel put stock in what Helkyrie said, and I was inclined to trust him. But I didn't want to just abandon the two of them.

“Ardoku." Helkyrie said, grabbing my face in both her hands and turning me to face her. “We'll be fine. Go!"

I sighed, quickly sheathing and fastening my sword at my waist before making my way over to the mysterious stranger.

"Come. I know a shortcut." She stated, before turning around and walking deeper into the shadow of the narrowing canyon alley. Steeling myself, I looked back one last time, my eyes meeting with Helkyrie's as she cradled the unconscious Lionnel in her arms. Then I was off, into the dark after a total stranger.

“I don't know your name." I finally said as I became immersed in total darkness.

"I'm Atka."

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IC: Sidra – Le-Metru Outskirts

After an indeterminate period of time spent stumbling through disorienting darkness, stalked by snarls and shrieks, weighed down by dread and doubt, Sidra stepped out of the shadows, and straight into a painful mistake.

Her intended emergence point had been an abandoned chute station she’d visited on several occasions during her time in Metru Nui. But at some point during the disaster that had levelled most of the city, the chute station had collapsed, and Sidra now found herself wedged amidst the rubble. The mask didn’t work if there wasn’t room for her to emerge, and unfortunately in this case there was just enough space for her body to fit. Her legs were pinned by debris, her arms trapped at her sides, and a severed strut was pressed against her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Dust dislodged by her arrival stung her eyes and clung to her throat, making her cough, which in turn disrupted more dust. Her first instinct was to teleport away, but her mask didn’t respond, still recharging after the lengthy journey. She floundered for a few moments, fighting the urge to panic, forcing herself to relax and slow her breathing.

This is fine. I’ve been in tighter spaces than this.

It had been one of Lariska’s more… creative tests of her skills: forcibly trapping her in a safe, dropping it in the ocean off Odina, and leaving her to unlock it from the inside. The first few times, she’d been allowed to bring a Mask of Water Breathing so she’d survive if she failed.

Then Lariska had broken the mask.

That had been long before Sidra had come to possess her current Kanohi, though. That had made escaping close fines far simpler. 

I just have to stay still, wait for the mask to recharge.

That was assuming air could still get in here. If not, she’d probably suffocate herself before she could teleport away. She’d drown in dust instead of water.

Don’t think about that! Always assume you’re going to survive.

That had been another of Lariska’s lessons.  

She wriggled her right arm, wincing as metal scraped at her skin. Clenching her jaw to stop herself from crying out, she slowly dragged her arm up to be against her chest, leaving ragged scratches on her flesh and armour.

Focus on getting out. Focus on where to go next.

Once her gauntlet-mounted iStone was close enough to her face, she willed the lens on her mask to extend, closing her eye so as to not utterly disorient herself. She leaned her head forward, using the extended lens to tap the button to turn on the screen, then access the touchscreen controls. Once the system was online, she activated one of her nektann, triggering one of its basic commands: to search for an exit.

The machine unclipped itself from her belt and scrambled away, frequently struggling to squeeze through the debris despite its small size. Its sensors soon detected an airflow, then daylight, and it scrambled for the surface. What it found was a city abuzz with activity, streets swept clean of debris, scaffolding and constructing equipment set up all around, even a working chute visible in the distance. Vahki and League members roamed the streets, some carrying out reconstruction work, others armed and alert, standing guard or hurrying off in the direction of the Coliseum.

Sidra watched the screen with interest, more relieved now that she knew she at least wouldn’t run out of air. Being able to see the light and open sky helped relax her, banishing the fear that came with her current confines. She activated a different program, this one instructing the nektann to find a secure location.

As she waited, Sidra ruminated on her uncomfortable circumstances. Helplessness was an unfamiliar feeling to her. She’d always had agency, been able to dictate her own actions, even when she was just following the orders of another. Now she was stuck, stalled in a spectacularly stupid fashion mere minutes into charting her own path. Was this a punishment for going against her nature, or just genuine bad luck?

A notification from her nektann derailed her train of thought, and focused on the screen again. The drone had taken up shelter in a partially-destroyed structure surrounded by other detritus. No one appeared to be nearby. It was as good a place as any to hole up for a short while.

She focused on a shaded corner of the room, waited until she felt that her mask was ready to be used again, and teleported, only slipping through the shadow world for a few seconds this time before arriving at her emergence point. 

She sat up with a groan, swiping dust from her face before taking a swig from her canteen to soothe her dry throat. She used some of the water to clean the cuts on her arm, before binding them in cloth and checking herself for any other injuries.

Once all was done and she was ready, she set off for her intended destination.  

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IC: Korruhn, somewhere outside of Metru Koro

As the snow-coated plains began to give way to the rockier crust beneath, the village-fortress of Metru Koro began to take shape, although still at a significant distance, in the optical processors of the Ko-Toa. He narrowed his lids, focusing the image on the optical receptor at the back of his eye. Something wasn't right. Smoke billowed from the village, and as his eyes adjusted, he could begin to make out ramparts crumpled like paper, and where huts used to be, bits of material scattered about. The speeders began to slow up a bit, and Korruhn could see the shapes of multiple ships: one crashed on the outskirts of the city, another, heavily damaged, lowering itself to the center of the village. His audio processing units picked up others, but his gaze was transfixed on the village. And then, the radio chimed.

The communication system Sans had installed in the custom speeders began to pick up the home frequency, and automatically honed in on the signal, turning a muffled squabble into distinct voices, it sounded like two. One declared a surrender, and apparent ceasefire at the village. Another (he thought he recognized this voice, although he could not place it in the calamity in front of them), seemingly negotiating for the city, and coordinating with the aggressor, arranging the ship's landing into the heart of the village.

"COWARDS! ALL OF THEM!" Korruhn shouted out as a rage began to boil within him. He clenched his blackened fist as shadow began to exhaust almost uncontrollably from his arm and mask. He couldn't believe it. He had seen so many of his friends die in defense of Metru Nui, with the thought that they could save their people. And now, their people spat in the face of the heroes by capitulating to the enemy. After all they had suffered at the hands of the League, all the pain, the suffering, the loss, the displacement, and still they continued! And now those he thought were his friends, or what was left of them, were negotiating with terrorists! Conquistadors. Violent oppressors. They deserved nothing but death for all the bloodlust they had wrought upon innocent men and women, and yet now his "friends" sought peace with the very men who had brought the war to them in the first place. He was utterly lost, and disgusted.

"There's nothing left for us here," Korruhn's voice had lost it's timbre, an echoed, disembodied shell of his former self. "We can't help the village, not in this state. There's no way Sans would have allowed this; who knows what they did with him." He paused a moment, letting Ultan and Leklo take in the scene from then distant ridge overlooking the village on which they were now perched.

"If we're going to do something about this, we have to get out of here and come up with a new strategy."

OOC: @EmperorWhenua @The Captain

Edited by Crimson Jester
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"One day, we will punish those that harm us by erasing them from our collective memory. Every trace gone. Every connection severed. A stranded death sentence in the shores of eternity. Only then will they know justice, and we peace."

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IC: Saybo - Toa of Water - Aurax

Location - The Coliseum (4, 9), 50th Floor Throne Room

With - (Great Being) Aurax, Pridak, Stannis, Skyra, Rose, Waveahk, Archo, NPC Vortixx, Oreius

 

His mind was calm. His emotions remained locked away wherever they were. Out of reach and yet tantalizingly close. His purpose was resolute. There was no scheming, no trying to figure out how to manipulate emotions to connect to others. No. His mind was trained on one command.

Defend Pridak and his allies.

Saybo didn’t notice losing focus on his Miru and falling into a well trained roll to minimize impact damage. He didn’t notice Aurax nor what the Toa meant to his mind. He paid no thought to the myriad of beings around him. No, he focused on Stannis as the old Toa charged Pridak. Saybo couldn’t allow that to happen. Pridak had defended against other attacks, but this one might prove to cause harm.

Leveling his pistol at the Toa of Stone, Saybo pulled the trigger four times rapidly.

Click click click click.

Nothing happened.

He holstered his weapon in a practiced motion and clasped it closed. Saybo didn’t think of his avoidance of close combat. He thought nothing of his training and what moves were available to him. He simply ran.

He ran for Stannis. But he was too late. Stannis had reached Pridak. But Pridak had caught the spear! Saybo continued to run, sidestepping and vaulting over stone barriers. He would do the best thing he was capable of to defend Pridak. If unimpeded in his sprint, he would grapple Stannis and hold him in place while Pridak dealt with the old Toa.
 

OOC: @Eyru@Toru Nui@Snelly@EmperorWhenua@Tarn@~Xemnas~ @Vezok's Friend

 

IC: Viltia - Toa of the Green - Metru-Nui Refugees

Location - Le-Metru Nuva, On the Northwestern fringes of (7, 13) in the Fau Swamp

 

Viltia swayed in the wind. She grew in the sun. She was replenished by the putrid waters below. She housed a complex system of insects that worked with and against each other in the constant struggle that was life. She bore fruit and fed both Rahi and Matoran. Viltia was the Fau Swamp and the swamp was her.

Observing. The one skill set of her powers she was great at. Over the days her connection to the Green had only grown and flourished like the plants she was now sensing. As her range of observing grew, so grew the complexity of information her brain was receiving. But to her, it was a natural progression of sensations. She wasn’t sensing the swamp so much as she was one with the swamp, feeling what it felt and experiencing what it experienced. When she was able to sit still, it was as if her body were gone, so close was her connection.

Her range would grow and her mind would struggle to take in the additional information, but ultimately she was able to expand her thinking to once again comprehend everything around her. It was as if she was walking in her greenhouse back home, except her mind was everywhere at once, experiencing it all like it was some complicated and perfectly synchronized symphony that she was able to appreciate all aspects of at once.

Torch said he had never even heard of someone having such good observing skills, let alone with a complex element like with the Green. Viltia was happy to hear it and a little proud, but even this skill was greatly lessened when she had to focus on more than just walking. And these days her mind was always somewhere else. It was focused on a spot hanging just below the village in the trees in fact.

Viltia opened her eyes, withdrawing her sensations of the swamp. Of course she thought of the Skakdi again. She couldn’t stop. The leaders had voted; he would be executed. But she couldn’t understand why they couldn’t just do it now and get it over with! Blah blah blah Sorilax blah blah gift of power blah blah WHATEVER! They didn’t know when Sorilax would return. It had already been a couple days. She couldn’t wait much longer.

Pondering ways to take care of the problem herself, Viltia was taken from her thoughts by Beruv arriving. The black and red Ta-Matoran looked tired, but that was to be expected. She always worked too hard. Viltia handed her a trowel, “Glad you could join us. Dig into that dirt and relax!

Beruv joined Torch and Match as they took a break from forging tools and weapons to join Viltia on a second garden platform that had been constructed recently. Viltia was teaching them how to properly plant already growing plants as a way to free up their minds. It was still hard work, but none of them minded. Matoran were made for hard work and generally enjoyed it. Plus everyone there knew Viltia could fix whatever they got wrong.

Beruv leaned back to sit on her heels and while Viltia was leaning over to point out a mistake to Match. She wiped her hands off on each other, but the fresh dirt clung to them. Her mind hadn’t really stopped thinking about forging even though she had physically stopped. The problem presented to her of figuring out how to craft Kanoka discs and eventually powered Kanohi again filled her brain. This manual labor allowed her mind greater access to connect dots she wasn’t making in the heat of the smithing hut. “You know, Viltia,” she started as she dug once more into the ground and lowered in a fledgling plant, “Once we have this all figured out, Kanoka forging might actually be easier than… well, back home.

Viltia tilted her head. She had only recently been learning of forging and knew nothing of how it had been done in the past. “What do you mean by that?

Beruv packed in dirt around the plant before watering it. The plant was bright green and bursting with new life, water dripping off of it and promising future growth. “Well we used to have to just guess at what power a Kanoka might have. Everything depended on the forger’s skill, technique, the properties of the protodermis used as well as the purity, and luck. Luck ended up taking the forefront of most forgings no matter the skill of the forger. But the ore here is differentiated; its different properties are literally separate instead of all properties being in all protodermis. The different tints are hints at the underlying power. The guessing is gone!

Viltia was intrigued. It had been an educated guessing game before? That must have been frustrating. She sat down and focused on the conversation, “Are you sure about this?

Beruv nodded, “I’ve made a couple copies of each disc power now and one of the Toa disks. I know what colors correspond to which powers and I have guesses at how to figure out the rest. But I don’t have the proper purifying technology, nor the proper molds. And I can’t get anything over level one nor can I figure out how to get a Metru designation other than Onu-Metru.

Viltia wondered, “Do we need Kanoka above level one? I never really used discs for my greenhouse except what was given to me as gifts.

Beruv looked slightly shocked, “Uh, yeah we do. The higher the level the more powerful the power. That means repairing more damage or freezing more of a Rahi. It allows us to remove more poison or teleport dangerous Rahi farther away. If we can manage to make high enough quality Kanoka, we could even start making powered Kanohi to further help defend this village. Your Rahi Control mask is great, but Torch’s translation mask could be something much better. Multiple Kanohi can open up a lot of potential. Serene told me that once when she-” Beruv paused, pain evident on her face, “Oh. For a moment there I had forgotten what happened.

Viltia felt her hatred of Skakdi flare once more. They had hurt all her friends so much over the years. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. She would rectify it in some small way. She needed to kill that imprisoned Skakdi on her own. She couldn’t wait for Sorilax to return.

-so if I could have someone go get sand for some sand molds, that would be great.

Viltia absently nodded, having missed the first part of the sentence. It was Torch who replied, “Viltia can take the Kahu and be back in a couple days. I can watch the village while she’s gone. Right, Viltia?

She nodded again, turning to them and trying to hide her grim face behind a smile, “Yeah, just get me some containers.” As soon as she got back that Skakdi was dead.

 

On 7/22/2020 at 10:49 PM, Sparticus147 said:

IC: Gore Fury (THE CUBE)

"Huh, alrighty then friend. Metru-Nui, I gotta say, from Vortixxian trade cities, to Steltian elite capitals, I don't think I ever found a place as nice as Metru-Nui. Its clean, its modern, and it got great food. McTorans, Burger Toa, Whendi's all of it is great. On top of that, unlike other places, food places are actually businesses and not just local or family functionaries, it's capitalized and that's great...Except when you're trying to get into the kitchen with a bunch of matoran and trying to learn how they cook their food. Got thrown out of a few places by Vhaki enforcers for that."

 

IC: Cravious - Skakdi of Lightning - Zakazian

Location -  The Rig outskirts (9, 8), the Cube

With - Gore Fury, 5 Vehicle NPCs

 

He… well yeah that’s pretty much what Cravious expected. Gore was a genius in the kitchen, but his intellect was barely kept alive with life support in other areas. Cravious wouldn’t get anything out of this Skakdi except maybe on accident. He tried very hard and barely managed not to roll his optics in disgust at the answer. He just had to focus. This Gore Fury was going to make him rich.

Well. More rich than he already was.

And Gore’s addle-brained line of reasoning had offered one snippet of information that might be useful. Vahki enforcers. Perhaps an elite policing force to avoid in the future. Cravious looked at the other Skakdi with his shirt and shades and his anger mellowed. Maybe, just maybe, Gore might give him some information on these enforcers. Cravious replied, without any hope for a good answer, “Well if you need to learn about food here on Zakaz and someone won’t let you, I’ve got ways to ‘help’. But these Vahki enforcers, what were they trained for? Were they some type of well trained policing force?

 

OOC: @Sparticus147

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

 

--------- Six Kingdoms: Rebirth Profiles: Saybo, Sorilax, Viltia, Cravious, and Hahvok   ---------

--------- Description of Sorilax's Avagah or Dawnguard, Saybo's Eclipse, and Cravious' Debt Collector and Cube ---------

 

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

 

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Posted (edited)

IC: Nale Vella - Metru-Koro

Nale looked over her shoulder at the others and made a "come on" motion, before passing by Kat and Kei and heading inside the village.

@Conway@Keeper of Kraata@TL01 NUVA@The UltimoScorp@Toru Nui

IC: Rose - Pridak's Throne Room (Friendly Fire)

Now cut off from Pridak, the Toa of Fire was free to reacquire her revolver. As she picked it up a pain in her right arm reminded her of the injury she sustained, and Rose swapped hands to wield her firearm. She started to move, intent on re-engaging the League leader, and noticed someone making a beeline for Pridak as well. Unable to ID them in the confusion, thinking it was one of the Takean's guards moving to aid him, Rose aimed for center mass and fired off a round from her firework revolver at the target--only realizing after she'd squeezed the trigger that it was Saybo. 

Ah, sh-


@Snelly@EmperorWhenua@Toru Nui@~Xemnas~@Kal the Guardian@Vezok's Friend

IC: Triage - The Taku

"Good," the medic said upon hearing of the League's call for ceasefire, sighing and allowing himself to collapse to the floor, his satchel resting in his lap as he sat by the van. He gave a nod to Zsann as she returned. "Everything alright?"

He was asking about the crew, unaware the Skakdi might interpret the question as personal.

@ZippyWharrgarbl@Taka Nuvia

Edited by Tarn
specified where rose was actually aiming
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Six Kingdoms: Rebirth profiles: Nale Rose Jutori Korio Triage
[BZPRPG]

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IC: Skorm (Metru-Koro)

As Skorm marched Ostrox into the ruins of Metru-Koro, his scowl lifted into merely a frown. "If what they're saying is true about a truce, we're going to turn you back over to them. Then you can have your weapons back."

He shot a glance over at Irna. "And go on your rant, I suppose."

OOC: @Toru Nui @Conway @ultimoscorp @TL01 NUVA @Tarn

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BZPRPG Profiles


TOA KALTA: Casanuva Vakua Kalyss Skorm Zueya Aelied Cyrix


OTHERS: Denrika Fyura Raiyo Aokora Maeloc Askha Somei Sydelia


"They belong in a museum!"


"So do you!"

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IC: Ultan, Leklo, Korruhn; outskirts of Metru-Koro

The smoldering ruins of the setting below was a grim sight. Bodies were strewn about, and the stranded survivors were already lining for what appeared to be a terms of surrender beneath a hovering drop ship, many others like it in surrounding wreckage. There was little hope of any in particular being left alive, so reckless and indiscriminate the destruction wrought. While Ultan would have gone with his two new (old?) companions into the brink, he saw now that the wind was taken from their sails, and both looked down in defeat and despair. 

"You spoke of the League earlier," Ultan began slowly, gathering his thoughts. "They clearly continue their quest for blood and control, and it seems they will not blink at even the smallest degree of defiance or disagreement. If I am not mistaken, you said that they had taken Metru Nui as the seat of their new power?" 

He turned to look his companions in the eye.

"We have nothing here - but if Metru Nui still exists in this desolate place, then we have a chance at something: revenge, or answers, whichever it is you seek." 

He pointed over the ridge toward the colossal skull that was once the godhead of his world. It was still difficult to process exactly what that meant.

"What say you that we take this fight back home, or what remains of it?"

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IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Fire 


Before long, Xane had connected all the pillars to the forge with spare piping, but as he hit the ignition switch again, the forge sprang to life with a sputter, and the flames inside were more akin to those of a campfire, instead of the white hot blaze a forge like this needed. This was accompanied by a chime from the status board, which flashed a “low pressure” warning.
Checking the pillars, the gauges did confirm the warning, the needles hovering rather low. Apparently connecting all the pipes wasn’t the way to go, pressure wise. But the system wasn’t failing either, like it had before when the diagonal pipes from pillars [3] and [2] had almost showered them with molten metal. Those pipes were working now, that they were connected. It looked like they had connected one or two too many this time, but which ones?

 

OOC: @Eyru@Nato the Traveler@Toru Nui

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Posted (edited)

OOC | The following has been done with approval and consent of UN and VF. 

 

IC Pridak | Daxia, the ancient past

It was a bright day and the sun’s rays were unimpeded by nary a cloud and basked the terrace with a hospitable warmth and softness. Pillars jutting out from the corners of the octagonal balustrade ringed the platform and from them hung two silken banners each, every banner the sigil of a nation, which fluttered lazily in the late-afternoon breeze and cast brightly tinted shadows on the sandstone floor. The evening squalls hadn’t set in yet and the tide, easily discerned and measured from the promontory rooftop of the villa, was still low. Off the shore of Daxia rested various ships at anchor flying the same banners as the pillars, indicating the delegation had finally arrived in full. Just as the council had been called in years before, the luminaries and rulers from across the silver seas coalesced to discuss matters that stretched beyond their states’ borders. Since the council met on Daxia it was Helryx’s duty to play hostess, albeit in her brutal and brusque manner, and her toa team who provided security for the occasion. A team of five Toa Hagah were spread around the perimeter, including one particularly inquisitive toa of stone who stood stock-still, awaiting the storm that was sure to roll in.

The delegates strode into the balcony in a loosely organized parade. Helryx walked in first with Dume close behind, and then Brutaka, Axonn, and Artakha followed. The six Barraki kings came in two clusters, with Pridak taking precedence with Kalmah and Mantax whispering between one another, while Takadox was in turn followed by Carapar and Ehlek simpering nearby. Ambassadors from from Xia and elsewhere eventually filtered in, with only a few of the sixteen missing representation, each either directly at the table or by proxy through their overlord conquerors. Soon, they were bidden to sit by Helryx who remained standing until the crowd quieted down.

Welcome again, all of you, to Daxia,” she greeted as magnanimously as her terse lips could manage. “You all know how this goes. This summit has been called by Pridak, and in front of you are the dockets for this day’s session. First item: Reading of the minutes from last time. Anyone want to volunteer to read them?

I make a motion to accept the minutes from the prior session without review,” Brutaka muttered without looking up from the iStone.

Seconded.

All in favo—“

Aye,” the group chanted lazily; Mantax said the same in his own tongue.

Next item of business: ‘Prison reform.’ I’ll admit this matter comes as a surprise, and no information came to precede it. The council recognizes Pridak for this item,” Helryx said, sitting down finally.

Are you having trouble containing your detainees?” Axonn jested, his low voice rumbling with caustic mirth.

No,” Pridak said solemnly as he stood up slowly to take the floor. “Nothing quite so… trite. I do not speak of the criminal’s imprisoned within my castle walls, I speak for my people locked in yours.

The toa of stone and the rest of the Toa Hagah had seen Pridak deliver many passionate orations to the benefit of the council, and his wondrous gift of silver-tongue was as renown as the silver lacework in his robe, equally causes for admiration and attention, but he knew this particular scene would be the last to be witnessed. Something—no, someone—had told him so and he hadn’t been deceived yet.

What are you talking about?” Brutaka asked, still wondering if Pridak was simply misinformed or if this was just a misunderstanding.

I’m talking about this place, this universe,” Pridak said, stretching his glittering arms out and gesturing widely in all the compass directions. “I know what it is, and I know you have been hiding the truth from us all along.

Hold on, speak plain,” Axonn said, his knotted hand up in a gesture of pause and his face turned firm. Gone was the jocularity of before and back was the grave look of an affronted ruler. “You have been privy to this council since its inception. There are no secrets between us here, friend—“

We. are. not. friends,” seethed a booming voice that even overwhelmed Axonn’s as Carapar’s head stirred in his dissent.

Order!” Helryx commanded, though she immediately regretted the choice of word.

Order’ is the problem,” Pridak said, seeking to regain the control of the talks. “The order of things are stacked against me, my people, and our people,” he said, referring to the citizenry of the Barraki states. “The order of things dictates that we work and toil the southron lands, laboring without advancement or destiny and shipping the things we find north, to factories, foundries, and mills. We slave away and strip our own lands of their goods to squalid pits while Metru Nui grows fat and the matoran of the Northern Continent continue their idyllic, virtuous existences.

Pridak, if you wish to renegotiate your trade treaty with the Matoran centers we may do so here,” Dume said, cautiously entering the fray in an exercise of diplomatic redirection, “but calling it ‘prison reform’ is colorful language, even for you.

We are beyond negotiation,” Carapar once again aggressively boomed.

This is preposterous,” Axonn said, his anger rising to meet the combined Barraki’s bluster. “All things have a reason, Pridak. Everything has a purpose.

The toa of stone nodded slightly at that statement. His opinion did not matter there, he was only a guard, but he knew there was a greater purpose; there always was, he’d been told. Life begets death, begets life. Just like the gears in their spines everything was a machine, and cogs turn and return in an endless cycle or else the machine would break. The suns came and went to preserve the days and nights, for things to grow and sleep and restore, cogs all of them that powered this great device. This vitriol from the Barraki wasn’t a new development, he’d been told, only the same resentments come around again. All people, slaves and kings alike, all could harbor the same raw feelings, and none likes shackles even if it was made of gold, all earnestly desiring freedom to live life as they desired. People wished for things all the time, and those wishes were more basal than most realized. Pridak was wishing for freedom.

And I say that reason is wrong,” Pridak firmly objected.

All things go as Mata Nui needs them—“

Mata Nui is a fraud.

Stunned silence fell over the assembly as they reeled from Pridak’s statement.

You take that back,” Dume challenged.

No, I don’t think I will. This universe is a prison in all but name. In the name of Mata Nui’s will you have placed the Matoran in a position of dominion over this world and crowned Mata Nui as the keystone of existence. The Great Spirit shines brightly on the Matoran, his Three Virtues law of the lands, and everyone else must slave away to build up the Matoran. You have jailed anyone who is not Matoran in a cage of water and land and othered us to our own submission.

Axonn got up to meet Pridak’s passionate rage. He was nowhere near as tall, but what he lacked in height he displayed in brutish, curled up righteousness. “Mata Nui cares about you, He has designs for all of us and you need to stay in your place or else you risk everything over your delusions.

Wrong. We risk everything you have,” Takadox muttered.

Pridak went on, “Your god does not care about us. He does not love us. To him our people are chattel to be milked until dry, bled until calcified, and herded until we forget who we are.

From your perspective,” Axonn rebut.

And what is a perspective except a personal assessment of reality? You do not have my eyes, nor do you have my senses, so when I am cut you do not get to decide that it does not hurt. When I say I am cut it is not your right to deny my pain, and when I say I am bleeding I will not allow you to keep the sutures from my grasp. Any god’s faith used to build up one and oppress another is a faith built on blood and lies. Any god who endorses such a faith is no god. So no, there will be no ‘renegotiation’ had here. There will be no entertainment of continued cooperation.

In unison, the six Barraki stood up, some tossing their seats back in chaos from the abruptness of it. “I speak for the six of us. We, the sovereigns of the League of Six Kingdoms, hereby secede from this pathetic union and paltry god. We will pave our own roads and cast our own lots and not play by your Matoran games. We will mill our own destinies and worship our own strengths. We take the shackles you placed on our wrists when the universe began and we break them. And if you choose to try and stop us, we will melt down the chains and forge them into swords, for the chains alone are the only gifts you have given us.

Axonn fumed but did not advance, held in check only by his sense of honor and duty to the rule of law, and his Kanohi Rode which repeated to him a single overriding word: True.

The Toa Hagah stood attentive and when Helryx wagged a single finger and the five of them leapt to fighting stances, ready at a moment’s notice to assert order on the terrace. The command would not come but they each expected it.

The Barraki, who had come in to the plaza in disarray, exited in a single-file line of military precision through a single gate, first Kalmah, then Carapar, Ehlek, Takadox, and Mantax (who spouted his rage in his own tongue), with Pridak leaving last in an abundance of caution. As they did so they all passed by the single toa of stone who surveyed the Barraki with emotionless silver eyes that shone as brightly as the silvers in Pridak’s robe. The Takean king paused next to the Hagah, still poised to plunge his spear into him, and studied the unique toa carefully in turn for a moment, then looked back at the remaining council one last time. “You can kill me, or any of us, but our people’s strife is not bound to the corporeal. Our dissent is not tied to our crowns but to your spears. May we never have to test the mettle of either.” He turned back to the toa for an instant more before Pridak, also followed the other Barraki out of the terrace and onto the paths to their ships.

...

And Stannis knew the storm had arrived. It would not be long before the world was torn asunder 

 

IC Stannis | Coliseum, present

History was bound to repeat itself. The only difference between then and now was that some had learned from history not to repeat the same motions. In the past, Stannis stayed the spear from Pridak’s throat and the warlord kept his blade sheathed; they were both titans of their factions, and they had learned that to shed blood was the right and good thing to do.

Pridak was straining to keep the weapon’s glistening tip from deepening its penetration, and it came as a mild surprise to both that despite Stannis’ physical might the toa could not force the shaft deeper into the recession. Pridak’s mechanical suit had increased his own prowess to match Stannis’, throwing them into a contest too evenly matched. The competition would not stop there, however; the warmage’s weapon was just as likely to be dislodged as it was to stab further, and Pridak—realizing this precarious position—had moved to skewer Stannis instead. The Wanderer noticed the movement that registered as a blur below eye level and recognized what it was, but as he and Pridak locked hateful eyes he remained infuriatingly serene.

What do you wish for? his eyes seemed to ask the warlord.

He knew the answer. Time had changed Pridak, as it changed all life, and warped him by wave after wave of civil mishaps and wartime tragedies; it had hobbled his constitution, poisoned his mind, and salted his fields of fortune; and yet, this was still Pridak, King of Takea, Overlord of the League of Six Kingdoms, the same as who announced separation because he believed it was the just thing to do. Pridak’s nations were used and abused by Mata Nui, and then when they cast the deity away there grew an absence which was filled by the good monarch’s sense of duty. In the absence of a Great Spirit he had become the god corporeal as he heard their prayers and felt their struggles, the emotions of his people, of their own fears, their wishes—and they all cried out in unison through Pridak’s eyes:

Freedom.

Stannis had learned not to not cling to life. He accepted it when it would come, calmly assured that time would move on regardless of his own fate and confident that so long as people yearned for control over destiny The Wanderer would continue to exist. Pridak’s blade was not an end but a means, and when Pridak plunged its steel into Stannis’ chest the old toa welcomed it.

It slid into his armor with ease, piercing like a hot knife through butter, and Stannis did not fight it. To Pridak’s shock, the old toa released one hand from his spear and grasped the warlord’s hand at the grip and pulled the sword in, deeper, further, until at last it erupted through his back in a mist of blood, but Pridak found that despite himself he could not resist following the path of his weapon as Stannis yanked it into his body—


—Pridak, too, found himself pulled closer to his adversary and nearly stumbled half a step forward—


—into the waiting shaft of the spear still lodged in his chest.

Both men had learned not to stay the blades this time, but also neither would spare the other a mortal wound.

Stannis finally smiled.

Wish granted.

Edited by EmperorWhenua
  • Like 9

 BZPRPG Profiles / BZPRPG Rules and Index / Rebirth Profiles

"... Even you, EmperorWhenua, you stupid beautiful contrarian, you." —Tyler Durden

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IC: Reliable Narrator | Ko-Metru
As Okuo surfaced from the underground river, he found himself in a massive partially destroyed basement. The cold air and the snow and the ice formed at the border of the river provided a good enough clue to his location: Ko-Metru, region of ice and knowledge.

With barely more than a week since the end of his world, the scars of the battle of Metru-Nui were freshly carved along the walls and across the floor. Litter greeted him, more than one skittering rahi slid out of sight through the rubble, and a dead turaga partially buried under rubble. However, something stood out beyond the silent aftermath of chaos: a massive bent triangle of wire and steel.

It rested on the far wall, and the length of its base nearly wide enough to fit a small airship through. Next to it were several terminals, broken and battered by icy rubble from the floors above. One screen though flickered with unnatural life. It was cracked, and the display misfired the colors so everything became a rainbow scramble, but something was still providing power to the machine, even if faintly.

That something was a crystal that looked like an overgrown blue potato. It was dim, and obviously soon to lose its inner light.

OOC: @Onaku Congratulations, you have found the broken and powered down mass teleporter used by the forces of the League during their assault on Metru-Nui! If you can repair it and provide it with power and the appropriate coordinates, who knows where this could lead!
 

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Happy chat.

 

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IC, Aurax: Coliseum

Very rarely did Aurax see something that surprised him. This was one of those times. The way Stannis allowed himself to be impaled by Pridak’s sword, and then stabbed the warped himself with the spear, it all caused Aurax to raise his eyebrows in surprise. He had been prepared to jump at Pridak, scythe ready, but we waited a moment to see if the old man’s sacrifice would end the warlord. 
 

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IC: Zaliyah - The Razorfish - Metru-Koro

The ship continued its leisurely descent, growing steadily closer to the ground and Zaliyah felt a momentary thrill of panic as several harsh twangs rang out from somewhere above her. The Razor rattled, then began to drop much more quickly. 

"What's going on up there?" She demanded, rapping her claws against the metal floor - now more of a wall - separating her from the cockpit. "Slow us down!" 

"Several pulleys have snapped," the pilot reported, "Trauma to substructure is more severe than anticipated." 

"Meaning what?"

"This is now our minimum descent speed." 

"Great." Zaliyah glanced at the approaching ground, hoping those below had the sense not to stand directly underneath the ship. They weren't sinking at a horrific speed. The Vahki, being at the very top of the ship, strapped into their seats, would probably be fine. Zaliyah, on the other hand, was in no hurry to risk her more vulnerable organics in a crash she could safely avoid instead. Besides, lightening the load by abandoning ship would hopefully ease the stress on the remaining disks. "I'll meet you on the ground."

She dived through the open hatch beside her, her adaptive armour configuring glider wings - slightly lopsided to offset her asymmetrical anatomy - and light thrusters to help carry her safely to the ground. She turned as she flew, watching the Razorfish fall, until it reached the ground in an eruption of dust and debris. Zaliyah failed to avoid the cloud, coughing and clawing at the air as she continued her descent. Having only attempted flight once before, and from a far lesser height, her gliding was ungainly and uncoordinated, resulting in an awkward face-plant in the ashen sands below. 

She sat up, spitting dirt. Behind her, the remnants of the Razor looked even more crumpled than they had before, but the cockpit looked to be intact, as she'd hoped. She stood up and dusted herself off, waiting and wary for approach or attack from the villagers she'd just left herself at the mercy of. 


___________________________________________________

My Corpus Rahkshi Profiles

Six Kingdoms Profiles

Skyrise  Ascent

___________________________________________________

Legends Don't Last Forever

 

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IC: Taja | The New Archives

The blasts had ceased, and the ground no longer shook. After a cautious pause, Taja decided to go see how the battle was faring. The least she could do was confirm if it was safe for everyone to leave or not. Maybe the worst was over.

So she stood up and began to weave her way through the villagers, making for the tunnel's entrance.

OOC: @Nato the Traveler

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21 hours ago, The Captain said:

IC: Ultan, Leklo, Korruhn; outskirts of Metru-Koro

"We have nothing here - but if Metru Nui still exists in this desolate place, then we have a chance at something: revenge, or answers, whichever it is you seek."  He pointed over the ridge toward the colossal skull that was once the godhead of his world. It was still difficult to process exactly what that meant. "What say you that we take this fight back home, or what remains of it?"

IC Leklo | Metru Koro outskirts

Home.

Home was where the heart was. 

Home wasn't a hovel in the desert, or a hut made of tin, or even a mountain peak in a vast land. Home was Metru Nui, Ko-Metru, knowledge towers. Home had been taken from the Alpinist but home was still a place. 

Home was worth fighting for even when nobody else had the fight in them. 

"Let's go back home," Leklo said, his eyes alight in a rage he hadn't let seep out before as he stared at the disembodied skull of his old god and tightened his knuckles around the throttles of his speeder. "Let's finish this war once and for all. I'm in with or without you, but I sure as The Pit hope you both are with me."

 

On 7/22/2020 at 3:24 PM, Vezok's Friend said:

IC [Zataka - Aboard the Tactical Panda]:

A realization began to dawn on the warlord. “Is that what you’re calling it, or is that the common name?”

She activated her Suletu to listen in on the thoughts of all the others in the cabin for the reply. Questions had the nasty habit of bringing thoughts with answers to mind. Whether they vocalized it or not, she’d get her answer. One of those little quirks of the mind. Don’t think of a pink Muaka. Can’t be done. She had no time for mind games over trivial information, especially not if her hunch turned out to be correct.

IC Yumiwak | Panda II 

"It is what all we Skakdi-Xa refer to it as," I said. 

Somewhere on the deck, a muster of crew could be heard stomping about before they shouted a countdown and then cheered as one. All the people in my dining room looked around in confusion at the spectacle. I shrugged. "That was the sound of us just offloading some not-so-precious cargo." ****king bye-bye, muaka furs. The Panda could then be felt banking to the starboard, back east.

Somewhere in the horizon, though, an intense monstrous cry filled the heavens. Could it be? I wondered. My heart leapt from my chest in jealous joy. "And that... was a tahtorak."


 BZPRPG Profiles / BZPRPG Rules and Index / Rebirth Profiles

"... Even you, EmperorWhenua, you stupid beautiful contrarian, you." —Tyler Durden

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OOC: Thanks @EmperorWhenua for the jam.

 

IC: Oreius | The Coliseum

Achro's blade clattered to the floor, a spiderweb of cracks already spreading across its surface—Oreius's punch had infused it with Weaken energy from the Kanoka in his armour. Achro raised his remaining sword in both hands and willed it to burst into flame, then brought it down upon the other Toa. Oreius caught the blow on his own sword, but his opponent had the advantage of height and stature, and the attack forced him down to one knee.

Achro pressed the advantage and struck again, and again, Oreius barely managed to deflect the blow. As his opponent raised his blade to slice down again, Oreius threw a hand out to one side and summoned a blast of fire that sent him skidding across the floor. He wasn't fast enough to completely dodge Achro's attack, however, and the mutated Toa smiled as he felt his sword bite at his opponent's armour.

Oreius turned his skid into a roll and staggered to his feet, shaking off the impact of his opponent's strike. To Achro's surprise, the other Toa appeared unharmed. Despite landing a hit on his shoulder, there was no blood to be seen, and Oreius seemed no worse for wear. It was like he had taken a punch, not been sliced by a sword.

Looking across the battlefield, Oreius prepared to continue fighting, but his eye was caught by the confrontation before the throne. Time seemed to slow down as Stannis allowed Pridak to thrust his weapon through his chest, driving his own spear through the Barraki in turn. Everything felt inevitable, like some god had preordained these events to unfold exactly as they did. Oreius had fought tooth and nail simply to arrive at the Coliseum, but no amount of fighting could change destiny. 

Stannis had always preached the inexorability of destiny—and destiny had finally come for him. But the old Toa seemed to embrace it. He pulled Pridak closer, allowing the blade to pierce him and emerge from his back. It seemed like he had known this would happen, like he had planned it out and made peace with it a long time ago.

His chest ached like he had been stabbed himself. It was only a phantom pain, but Oreius would not have been surprised if it was real, and killing Stannis killed him too. Despite their long feud, the two were still connected. Their history was forged in blood and fire, and could not be so easily unmade. Oreius had done his best to forget that he had once known Stannis Maru, and he had done his best to forget why. But watching the warlord strike down the man he had once called brother suddenly brought those memories back to the surface, and the Toa of Fire found himself lost in a past he had tried desperately to forget...

 

IC: Oreius and Stannis | Another Island in Another Time

The day dawned red, and Oreius knew in his heart they were too late. But he stowed that knowledge away and clung to a desperate hope.

The island spread out before them as the airship descended. Hills and valleys had changed in the years since his departure. Once lush and verdant, the ancient forests were now piles of smouldering ash. The green plains were now desert. The mountains themselves seemed smaller than he remembered, as if they had crumbled under the chisel of some vast and terrible architect; and their icy slopes had long since melted away, exposing bare rock. The rivers were dry.

And the city. The place he had once called home was a broken pile of rubble. Even the distance could not hide the damage. It was unrecognizable.

For a moment that stretched on forever the Toa Maru quad stood on the surveying deck of their airship in a stunned silence as they began to take stock of the foreboding land they were descending into. Reordin, quick to quip and slow to quit, was the first to speak his mind. He stood directly between and slightly behind Stannis and Oreius, leaned his head forward into their peripherals, and glanced at them both. "Nice, so much for the plan."

Stannis wished his peer had not spoken the stab. He stood stoic as stone as he eyed the damages done, neither deigning Reo with a response or offering condolences to Oreo. Later on, eventually, he would come to reflect on the moment and regret his quietude, but at the moment all he could do was try to think of the words he would have said if he were someone else.

"Nothing?" Reordin persisted, clearly expecting some retort of it-is-how-it-is or defense of the meander they had taken to arrive, but realized there was no such rise to be had. "Allllllll-righty." He leaned back and stepped away. Stannis was frustratingly restrained as ever.

The enormity of the devastation still had Oreius in shock, but he was present enough to count the long seconds that passed without a word from Stannis. Reordin's quip was as predictable as ever, but the Ko-Toa was only voicing what they all were thinking. And their leader had no response.

Even some trite words invoking Destiny or Mata Nui's will would have been better than nothing. But, for once, even Stannis had no scripture to justify what laid before them. It had been at his command that they delayed, not coming immediately to the island's aid. It had been by his counsel that they made space for diplomacy, hoping that cooler heads would prevail. And now he gazed upon the desolation their inaction had wrought, and he said nothing.

Oreius had never completely fallen in lockstep with Stannis. Like Reordin, he was a soldier. He preferred to act first and ask questions later, and was often frustrated by his leader's tendency to do the opposite. But he had followed Stannis anyway, because he trusted him. Now, as their ship came down to land, he felt the last remnants of that trust burn away.

They landed on the beach. A peninsula stretched out into the sea like a finger, and it was here the Matoran of the island had made their last stand. The sand was stained red, and the water frothed as it rolled in.

The only sounds they heard from the beach were from the wind and the waves. Something that could only be described as a sensation loomed further in the island, where the closest village used to be, and the Maru stood there in stunned quiet a moment before Stannis finally spoke

"Sulov and Reordin, check the perimeter and clear it if needed. Oreius and I will enter the village."

The Toa obeyed, although Oreius had had already started moving before Stannis had finished giving the command. He entered the village at a light jog, swords unsheathed and eyes flickering from place to place, scanning for signs of remaining enemies. What he saw instead was the aftermath of a massacre.

The outer wall had been broken in many places, suggesting that the enemy had surrounded the village and invaded from multiple sides. Stone huts were crushed like sandcastles. Wooden market stalls were ash. Some scraps of canvas still burned as they hung from their poles like flags of surrender.

And the bodies. The enemy had never been known to take prisoners, and they hadn’t started now.

Oreius’s jog turned to a dazed walk as he surveyed the destruction. He realized that he knew some of the fallen—they were old friends and neighbours, people he recognized despite having not seen them for a hundred years or more. This realization sparked a terrible fear that chilled his very bones, and he began to run again, no longer wary of hidden foes or traps.

He moved like a man possessed, looking in the remains of huts and scanning the faces of the slain, abandoning each one on as soon as he could confirm that it was not who he was looking for. He had forgotten about the other Maru. He was alone in the carnage, fueled by an anxious hope, equally sure that he would find the one that he sought and that he wouldn’t. Perhaps he had made it off the island— perhaps he had hidden in some cave and been overlooked— perhaps he had been wounded in another fight and was lying somewhere in the burning jungle, waiting for help that would never come—

These despairing thoughts washed over him like the tide, and Oreius didn’t have the strength to fight them off. That ever-present fire in his chest was burning bright with fear and rage, and each new thought only added fuel to the blaze. It would surely consume him soon enough, or else consume everything around him in a storm of righteous fury…

…but when he found the one he was looking for, neither of those things happened. Instead, the fire in his chest simply went out. He dropped to his knees and cried out once in anguish, hardly daring to even touch the Matoran’s broken body.

“No,” he said, his voice trembling. “No.”

The Matoran’s eyes flickered at the sound, and his head turned slightly towards the Toa. A splash of gold rippled across his grey body.

“Oreius?” he breathed.

“I’m here.” He placed a hand gently on the Matoran’s cheek. Tears flowed freely from his eyes. “I’m here. Don’t move. You’ll be alright.”

A ghost of a smile passed over the Matoran’s face. “I knew it,” he whispered. “I knew you’d come.”

Oreius choked back a sob, then looked around for the other Toa. He needed help. There had to be something he could do.

“Stannis!” he shouted, unable to keep the fear out of his voice. “Stannis!”

In answer to Oreius's summons the older Toa hollered back, "I am here!" An instant later he came into view, running round the corner of a nearby hut, and wasting no time now in clearing the distance between he and his comrade. His twin spears were still holstered in an X across his back and they dipped and bobbed with uncharacteristic tempo, clicking with every pace as he wasn't yet sure if the dauntless Toa of Fire was in danger or in terror.

As he came close he realized Oreius's calls for help were not for himself but for the Matoran horribly curled on the ground, somehow strong enough to have survived the massacre that had transpired. The little one barely clung to life, it seemed, but that he had lived this long was testament of his tenacity and determination. "I am here," he said again, softly this time, as he come up and quickly knelt into the mud next to the Matoran's crumbled figure, on the opposite side as Oreius.

The Wanderer sighed knowingly. It was his call to have delayed the rescue operation, of course, and he knew the risks and challenges all along. He'd withheld information, bargaining on a chance that the battle could have been averted entirely, that the storm of swords would have swept elsewhere and not Oreius's home and heartland, that resources could be spared and employed elsewhere to greater effect, and he knew what was at stake for Oreius, that there were some costs that the return was simply not worthwhile to pay for. Oreius would never have allowed the Toa Maru to do anything else if he had known what Stannis did, and yet it had seemed all so necessary.

But some costs... were too steep to bear.

"Is this...?" Stannis asked. He knew the answer already. He asked anyway

“Yes,” Oreius replied.

He lifted his eyes to Stannis. Their gaze met over the body of the dying Matoran, and Stannis saw no anger in Oreius’s eyes. That would come later. There would be anger and judgment and even loathing in those eyes, but not now. Now there was only fear, as deep and dark as the ocean

Oreius was a soldier, and he surely knew that the Matoran was beyond medicine. But hope is stubborn, and the thought of losing the one he loved was too horrific to bear. So he pleaded with Stannis like he was pleading with death itself. As if his words could somehow conjure a solution; as if there was some deep magic that would answer his summons if he just begged hard enough.

“Please,” he said softly. “There has to be something. Anything. I can’t lose him. I can’t…”

He trailed off and bowed his head. The Matoran’s heartlight flickered weakly with each shallow breath

“Inu,” Stannis said softly. It wasn’t a name Oreius said much in waking hours but rather tenderly while dreaming. It was a sweet name for a good Matoran who had long possessed Oreius’ admiration more than Stannis or anyone ever could fathom. This was the consequence of coming too late, but it hadn’t ever been Stannis’ price to pay—then why had he gambled it away like it was his? He studied the sacrifice of dallying carefully as if weighing each breath on Fate’s scales.

“No medpack or Leah’s balms can preserve what is already departed, Oreius. This cycle is set, I am so sorry, but I can help in another way. Tell me... —tell me what is it you wish for, more than anything else in the world?" he asked.

“I wish I hadn’t listened to you.”

Stannis winced at the accusation but said nothing. He knew he deserved it.

Inu’s eyes closed, but he still breathed. The Toa’s hand still tenderly cupped his cheek. Oreius had heard Stannis speak these words before. Always destiny, always the cycle—these words seemed little comfort when Stannis spoke them to others, and now that he was on the receiving end of them, Oreius could indeed confirm that they meant nothing. He would gladly knock the wheel of time from its axle; he would throw destiny from its course and doom the universe in a heartbeat if it would save the one he loved. He knew it was impossible, but he wished for it anyway.

“It should be me,” Oreius said, his voice cracking. “I wish it was me. I wish I could save him.”

Stannis studied Oreius' face for a long moment like an artist seeking to deposit it into memory to draw later. It was aggrieved in torment, twisted not by hatred—not yet—but by an emotion Stannis often found elusive himself: Love.

It was one of the most potent, a sum of many parts and a power few could break. To dismantle love of its strength took the disentanglement of fear, adoration, affectation, belonging, and so much more. Wars were fought for love, islands cleft in twain, suns blotted out, all for the sake of the heart. But when love manifested at last it presented itself as an ultimate irony; despite its power of character, it also was a weakness. Love was a string that could be pulled, a carrot that would relentlessly be pursued, for when the heart wanted it would stop at nothing to have.

Stannis, the man Oreius thought he knew, looked into the Ta-Toa's eyes and saw for the very first time into his soul. It was a glimpse that would never be given in turn as the Wanderer's seeing pearls would never reveal more than their confounding opacity but what could not be discerned in the soul would soon become a cold comfort. Stannis had once commanded Oreius's trust, later reduced to mere respect, but soon all that would dissolve away. Oh, how quickly the bonds of brotherhood could wither away and turn to fear and hatred.

Stannis, the man Oreius thought he knew, could not offer salvation or healing—those things were never in his nature—but he could still grant a wish. He could offer control. He could offer inseparability. He could understand, clinically, what Oreius truly wanted, the deep desire behind his powerless frustration. What had caused him to tip over the edge into desperation except the frightening possibility of being deprived of the one thing he worshipped more than Mata Nui himself? Love.

"You want an eternal life with Inu," Stannis said quietly. "To weather every storm with him, in sickness and in health, for as long as the sun shines and the moon pulls the tides. You wish to never be separated from your beloved again—and ##### me, ##### everyone who gets in your way. Say it."

Oreius didn't understand, but then when had he ever understood the Wanderer? The man always seemed to walk a path no one else could see, and he spoke in riddles no one else could comprehend. Now he seemed to be offering something unattainable, something no one could possibly offer... as if he could do the impossible if only Oreius would just believe.

The Toa of Fire looked down at the one he loved. Inu's heartlight was fading now. Each breath came too slowly, and the movement of his chest was almost imperceptible. If there was anything Stannis could do—if, for once, he was offering action instead of words—then now was the time to take it.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, ##### you. Just give him back to me. I can't lose him again."

"I have the power to give you what you desire," Stannis said. "An inseparable life together with your beloved none would ever be able to take from you. But it will not be easy, and I need you to promise me to not only keep my power a secret but to guard this nature for as long as I live. I will demand nothing more from you but will expect nothing less.

"Do you agree?" he asked again, this time knowing full well Oreius would consent. He had no other choice. Love would have it no other way.

A nod.

Stannis almost withheld what he said next, almost swallowed the words and walked away right then. Oreius was like a brother to him, a comrade he had once trusted and cared for more than most, and once he did what he would do there would never be a relationship ever again. Trust had long since been shattered, but what was asked for next was a sacrifice of all civility.

"Then give me Inu's beating heartlight," he finally said.

Oreius's eyes snapped up. Here was the anger now. The incredulity. And... beneath it all, the desperation that would inevitably win out over both of them.

"What?"

"What I said, I have said," Stannis spoke evenly, hand held out expectantly.

Oreius's appearance of doubt was only that: an appearance. Stannis could have asked for the sun, and the Toa of Fire would have found a way to pull it down from the sky. There was nothing he would not do for the Matoran who laid dying between them. So after a moment of wary judgment, he dropped the façade and obeyed.

His sword flashed in the sunlight. Inu's body buckled. It was done.

The man Oreius thought was a Toa of Stone took the quivering organ in hand and held it lovingly like a scientist with a prized experiment. There was no mirth, but there was anticipation... and deepest sorrow. This was a betrayal of the deepest kind to Oreius as much as it was a testament of love. Stannis had truthfully hoped for any other twist of fate, any different path to Destiny, but this was the thread that there was because of the actions of a select few. Stannis hoped Oreius understood the Wanderer's action was an admission of culpability and an act of penitence, an exchange of his true nature for the vulnerability Oreius had given in passion. He understood that the chances of that mourning being understood were slim, yet he was bound to carry out the ritual regardless.

He struggled to remember the words—it had been literal eons since he practiced any of his old craft, before even he came to possess the body and then ultimately devour the soul of the Toa Hagah he would come to fully embody—but they were still there, extant words in the ether of his primordial mind, and he recollected and arranged them again like lost letters in a soup.

"Goodbye,

Hello.

Step forth into the darkness and prepare the gift.

A star’s heart still beating, still lit,

Two midnight horrors cry and shift.

Make them squirm inside the pit

Bind worm and willing host,

Tear the yolk and spread its gold,

Devour knowledge and their ghost.

Pray for prey forever sold.

Hello,

And goodbye."

He offered the heartlight, transformed into something alien and sentient, to Oreius and it slithered under his armor with haste. It bound itself to Oreius' body, slipping into his shoulder and grasping his spine, but there was no pain. There was no fear. There wasn't even any anxiety. The kraata spoke to Oreius in soothing melodies, sharing images of a life they had lived and had dreamed of fulfilling while holding hands under the blanket of nighttime stars, back when he was something other than a kraata and the whole of the Universe was their oyster. Inu and Oreius had fantasized of a life together, and now they had been given that chance. There was no agony felt. There was only... love.

The Toa of Fire raised a hand slowly to the back of his neck where the kraata had attached itself. He stood and realized that he no longer stood straight and tall as he had before—he now carried a slight hunch. He would carry Inu's small weight forever, bearing the burden of his love across the universe, never to be parted.

"There is no power greater than love," Stannis said. Inu's ichor still dripped from his fingers; he dared not wipe it off, literally staining his hands with Inu's blood. "It is all I can do to ensure that Inu shall forevermore be a source of strength to you. I have given you the power of limited invulnerability—you are to be protected against most physical harm and the effects of harsh environs. Forevermore."

The wizard—for that was what he truly had become in Oreius's eyes then—lowered his head then. "What is done is done. From this point forward, nevermore am I your brother."

Oreius looked down at the kneeling Stannis (was that even his name?) and finally saw him for what he truly was: a strange, eldritch spirit masquerading as a Toa. They understood each other now. For all his talk of righteousness, the Toa of Stone was a fraud. And for all his talk of justice, the Toa of Fire was willing to deal with a demon for his own gain.

They would continue to lie to others in the centuries to come—to present themselves as righteous and just. Both would believe they were doing it for the greater good. But they saw each other plainly now, and so it was inevitable that Oreius would turn and walk away. No more would they be brothers. No more would they draw swords together. Each was a painful reminder to the other of their true nature, and so they were doomed to part ways until the sun went dark and the stars themselves were shaken free from the skies.

 

IC: Oreius | The Coliseum

Blinking back the memories, Oreius shook himself free of the past and rejoined the battle, swinging his sword at Achro with an angry shout.

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Posted (edited)

IC: Sidra – Ko-Metru Remnants

It had been slow going trekking through what remained of the so-called city of legends. On her last trip, she’d been able to blend in with the crowds, just one more refugee among many, but now she had to be more cautious.

She’d deployed both of her nektann to scout her path, scuttling up walls and across powerlines, alerting her of any being in her way. She’d been able to slip by or teleport past most obstacles. On the few occasions she’d encountered League patrols, she’d passed herself off as one of the troops formerly affiliated with Takadox, taking advantage of the fact that most in the League knew better than to look her kind in the face, and therefore didn’t question her expression or appearance too closely.

Those that did make the mistake of meeting her gaze found themselves the subjects of her hypnosis, compelled to let her pass on by through simple suggestions to mind their own business and be on their way.

She eventually crossed from Le-Metru into Ko-Metru, though the border between the two was blurred by broken buildings and the scars of destruction. Intact street signage eventually led her to the structures she sought, the forges where the Ko-Matoran made their Kanoka.

Several of the buildings were crushed beneath fallen Knowledge Towers, impaled by colossal icicles, or buried in ash-strewn snow, but she soon found some buildings that still had their walls and ceilings intact. She left her nektann perched on nearby rooftops, watching for anyone nearby, as she got to work searching for a forge she could use. In theory, she could have sought out forges in any Metru for her work, but Ko-Metru made the most sense.

After all, where else would one go to create a new Great Disk of Ice?

Edited by Nato the Traveler
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OOC: Quick mobile post.

IC: Korio Karasha - Tactical Panda II

Korio had barely touched his food at that point, and visibly shivered at Yumiwak's words like a cold wind had passed through the ship. He slowly brought his gaze up, lip quivering.

"A...a what? For real?"

Of course his worst nightmare was now on Zakaz.

@EmperorWhenua@pokemonlover360@Vezok's Friend


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Six Kingdoms: Rebirth profiles: Nale Rose Jutori Korio Triage
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IC Yumiwak | Panda II

A wicked little grin spread wider across my face. i didn't care whether this Zataka saw it in full or not. "Oh yes, quite certainly," I confirmed. 


 BZPRPG Profiles / BZPRPG Rules and Index / Rebirth Profiles

"... Even you, EmperorWhenua, you stupid beautiful contrarian, you." —Tyler Durden

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Posted (edited)

IC: Jephro-Metru-Koro

Jephro was startled out of his slump by a loud crash. He quickly stood up, drew his swords and ran to see what happened.  As Zaliah steped out Jephro froze, Zaliah looked like a toa, but something was off. "Were you the one on the radio?"

IC: Mazor-Metru-Koro @Conway

As Mazor and Gnabol aproached Metru-Koro he spotted a familiar face. Normally he would be hesitant, but he was weary, so he called out. "Hey, Irna!"

Edited by Smudge8
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Six Kingdoms Characters: Mazor, Jephro, The Janitor, Informant

 

 

 

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IC: Zaliyah - Metru-Koro

"Yes," she replied warily, tensing at the sight of the Toa's drawn swords. 

__________________________________________________________________________

IC: Whisper - Metru-Koro

Spotting Taja leaving, Whisper uncurled and slithered after her, "Is it over?"


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IC: Iradra - Metru-Koro

"Sheathe your swords, brother. Enough blood has been spilt." Iradra walked up, regarding the toa hordika with a hidden expression. "Toa Zaliyah?"

@Nato the Traveler@Smudge8

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