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Unreliable Narrator

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IC: Xaril - Metru-Koro

"You can consummate your affections elsewhere," Xaril growled, stomping up the ramp to approach the injured Toa, "Preferably somewhere off my ship. Now, tell us who attacked you?"

@Unreliable Narrator @Tarn @BULiK @Onaku

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IC: Okuo - Metru-Koro

Okuo could hardly believe his eyes and ears as he recognised the toa before him. A toa he had last seen over a month ago, moments after he'd been turned into one himself, a toa he'd helped with fixing a machine before seeing her vanish. Just moments before the world came to a harrowing end.

"... Tuyet?" 

@Unreliable Narrator@Tarn@BULiK@Nato the Traveler

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IC: Triage - Crimson Galleon

The medic felt immense relief seeing that his mask power had done its job and saved whoever this woman was. He smiled at Exuze and patted the Ta-Lesterin's back, before meeting the Toa of Water's gaze.

“Hey doc,” Tuyet said as she stared at Triage with her piercing eyes. “I think I love you.”

Triage couldn't help but blush slightly, his shaky hands suddenly much...shakier. "Um, well," he paused and cleared his throat. "Just doing my job. We were much closer to losing you than I'd like to admit, you can thank...this kind gentleman for getting you to me in time," Triage said, gesturing to Xaril. "And my colleague here, who kept you stabilized."

The medic shook his head to regain focus. "Uh, if you don't mind, ma'am...what's your name? Where did you come from?"

"... Tuyet?" Okuo said, to the medic's surprise.

"...you know eachother?"

@BULiK@Onaku@Nato the Traveler@Unreliable Narrator

Edited by Tarn
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OOC: a hafu original! truly the greatest treasure one can find

IC: Niidak (Relic Fields)

Niidak had seen plenty of strange things here, but this statue was the strangest. It reminded her of some bizarre artwork her Vortixx business partners had acquired back in the day. She wondered if there were similar eccentric art collectors on this Mata-Nui-forsaken island, but knew there wasn’t much point in thinking about that. Even if there was a buyer for it, there was no way her salvaged hoverbike could carry it.

She was already considering leaving it alone and exploring the nearby knowledge towers instead, when a sudden realization came to her mind. She pulled out the Kanohi Miru she had found out of her satchel. If she remembered right, it was the Mask of Levitation. That meant that its wearer could levitate objects, right? It made sense to her. She didn’t usually like wearing masks, thinking them to be ugly, but by now her body had deteriorated so much that she was ugly anyways. Besides, nobody could see her here, unless a stranger would appear behind her back again.

And so she put on the mask, felt its power, attempted to harness it by focusing, and-

The statue didn’t move at all. But she felt herself to be lighter, and a gust of wind almost knocked her over.

Did this mask only affect the wearer? But she didn’t even levitate at all. She decided to experiment by climbing on top of the statue’s pedestal, then jumping off. Indeed, she floated a little before gently touching down on the ground.

Why wasn’t it called the Mask of Floating? Those dumb Matoran dwarves, can’t even name masks right.

She tore the mask off her face and almost threw it away, when she got another idea. Her eyes turned to the oddly detailed face of the statue. It was so well crafted that it looked almost lifelike. What would happen if she placed the mask on the statue? It seemed like a stupid idea, so stupid that it might just work. She knew little about masks anyways, so the only way to tell if it worked was to try it out. If it worked, then the statue would be much easier to carry. If it didn’t, she’d just look like a fool, but she was still alone so it did not matter.

She shrugged, placed the Kanohi Miru on the statue’s face and tried to push it off the pedestal, still hoping no one would appear to laugh at her stupid idea.

OOC: @Eyru

Edited by Daniel the Finlander
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IC: Exuze, Metru-Koro, The Crimson Galleon

Exuze solemnly sat beside Triage as the medic worked his magic. His head quickly raised as soon as he heard the coughs of the Toa waking up. The 'kind gentlemen' blushed as Triage patted him on the back. He'd... done it? Well... he hadn't done it alone. He couldn't have done it alone. Maybe storming off all alone wasn't the smartest of plans. Although... it did lead the lesterin to where he apparently needed to be.

More urgent matters were at hand, Exuze could plan later.

The lesterin had many questions, but Xaril beat him to his first one, and from the sounds of things, Okuo answered the next. Exuze looked to Okuo, expectantly awaiting details.

Edited by BULiK
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1 hour ago, ~Xemnas~ said:

" I believe that it was simply an elemental mask. Would such a mask have knowledge-granting properties?"

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro

The wizard nodded in the affirmative. "As I have spoken to you before, darkness shrouds information while light reveals it. The Kanihi Avohkii is not a mere elemental trinket, put simply, it illuminates knowledge and promotes understanding."

@BULiK @~Xemnas~

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IC: Sidra The Far Shore

 

Onu-Metru

Sidra awoke in a puddle of seawater and a pile of seaweed.

She was on her back, staring up at skies that made no sense – the suns blinking like eyes, stars visible in the day, clouds appearing and disappearing in an instant, ash falling in the wake of a twisted reptilian shape slithering across the sky, the metal cracking apart to reveal the distant silhouette of Irnakk’s Tooth – and then she blinked, focused, and the sky settled.

Her head ached, both from the rough rock digging into the back of her skull, and the exertion of maintaining a protective bubble of telepathic energy around herself when she’d fallen into the tidal wave. Of the Matoran who’d fallen with her, there was no sign. She’d lost sight of them the instant she’d hit the water, and there was no telling where their remains might have ended up.

She sat up slowly, making sure all of her equipment was still on her as she tried to take stock of the whirlwind of information and events that had assailed her in the minutes since her arrival.

Earthquakes… tsunamis… bombings… what the karz is going on? This world didn’t seem entirely real, at least from Sidra’s perspective, but the Matoran hadn’t acknowledged the inconsistencies in their surroundings, so the people and what they were going through seemed to be real enough. Getting to the bottom of whatever was happening was still her best bet right now.

Looking further inland, she could see evacuation airships arriving and departing from other mining towers, most of them moving towards a still-functioning chute in the distance. Short on information and with nowhere else to go, she set off towards it.

* * *

Below

A baleful red eye cracked open in a darkened, damp chamber.

It took in surroundings it had glimpsed innumerable times during its centuries of confinement; the coarse floor of sand and stone, and the glistening cold rock of the cavern walls. Long-forgotten fossils decorated the walls, barely discernible in the dark.

The dark was still deep, and lingering. Little had changed for the eye’s owner, despite the two detonations that had so recently rocked its cage.

The eye closed again, and the creature resumed its wait.

* * *

Le-Metru

The chute ride revealed the full extent of the damage caused by what Sidra now understood to have been two earthquakes and accompanying tsunamis a few hours apart, the second far more damaging and powerful than the first. The occasional aftershock still rattled the chute even as she traveled through it.

It had taken a couple of hours for her to find a chute headed in the direction she wanted to go. The quakes and waves had apparently originated from somewhere to the South-West, with Ko-Metru and Le-Metru being the hardest-hit areas. Almost all of the airships and chutes connected to those regions were devoted to ferrying the injured and other survivors out of the impacted areas, but Sidra had eventually managed to find a chute being used to bring Vahki into Le-Metru, and accompanied them.

No one objected. If anything, both the Matoran and Vahki she’d encountered along her journey seemed incredibly happy to see her... or whatever equated to happiness for a Vahki. She suspected the fact that she hadn’t seen a single other Toa around might have had something to do with the positive reception. 

Though the city passing by beyond the confines of the chute still changed occasionally, for the most part it seemed far more sparse than the city she’d explored in her time. Less buildings, less people, and even less so now with structures having been swept aside or swallowed by the assault of the sea. Assuming this world was a mirror of the history of her own, then she was clearly somewhere in the past, perhaps even a time before Toa had come to be commonplace in Metru Nui.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t intimately familiar with the history of Metru Nui, and none of what she was seeing or experiencing was helping to narrow down when she was or what she was walking into.

She eventually disembarked along with the Vahki near the lower coastline of Le-Metru, an area that had clearly been among the worst effected. Shipwrecks littered the shoreline, with even a couple of airships grounded amongst the debris. Strangely, there were a few large chunks of ice visible on the beach as she drew closer. Old ice, encrusted with coral and slimy oceanic foliage. Ice that didn’t seem to be melting despite the sun.

As the Vahki set about searching the wrecks for survivors, Sidra worked her way along the shore, searching for any further clues as to the cause of whatever seemed to be happening offshore. But aside from the strange ice, there were all manner of unusual items scattered across the sand – dead rahi she didn’t recognise, rusted wreckage scraped off the seabed, and strange bones that had probably been ancient when the city was still young – and she had no way to discern what was significant. She was beginning to wish she’d picked a Mask of Psychometry for herself instead of Biomechanics.

After a few minutes more of fruitless searching, she passed by a grimy Le-Matoran in the process of hauling a battered rowboat out towards the water. His expression was grim, and he was muttering under his breath, but his face lit up at the sight of her.

“Are you a Toa?” He burst out, abandoning the boat and running over to her.

“Uh, yeah,” she nodded. "Let's go with that." 

“Oh, thank the Great Spirit!” He grabbed her hand and shook it vigorously. “When my brother stopped responding… I was so worried. I was about to go out after him myself.”

“Your brother?” Sidra frowned.

“Yes. He was one of the sailors Dume sent through the Seagate to fetch Toa to help us, after the first quake,” the Matoran continued, not fully registering Sidra’s confusion. “You sure got here quick.”

“I’m sorry, no sailors contacted me,” she explained. “I was in the city on… other business. Just luck that I happened to be here when everything went to karz.”

“Not luck,” the Matoran released her hand. “The will of the Great Spirit, I’m sure.”

“Sure.”

“But this is good news,” he decided. “That means more Toa are still coming!”

“Maybe. Just… don’t get your hopes up. Whatever’s going on out there is happening in the same direction as the Seagate. Any boat out on the water… well…” she gestured at the wrecks dotting the shoreline. "You may need to brace yourself for bad news."

“Then I should follow them, make sure-”

“In that?” Sidra grabbed the Matoran’s arm, pointing at his rickety rowboat. “A baby wave would capsize you. Getting yourself killed won’t help your brother.”

“If he’s in trouble, someone has to help him,” the Matoran protested, pulling away from her. “You need to stay and help everyone else in the city. I’ve sailed these waters for decades. I can handle this.”

“No,” Sidra sighed. “You can’t.” She seized the Matoran with both hands, spinning him fully around to face her. Her eyes glowed gold as she brought her psionic powers to bear against his tiny, determined mind. “Go home. Get some rest. Things will be better tomorrow.”

It was a lie, probably, but it didn’t matter what the truth was. All that mattered was what Sidra wanted him to believe. The Matoran nodded numbly, and she let him go. He stumbled away, back up the beach, and Sidra waited until he was lost from sight before continuing on her way west along the shore.

He had the right idea. Sidra would need to go out on the water herself to figure out what was going on. Just not in the Matoran’s splintering deathtrap of a watercraft. So she continued on her way for a while, keeping an eye out for workable boats, until she passed by an aide station the Matoran had set up, and noticed a set of deep, clawed tracks in the sand leading up to it.

“Excuse me,” she ran up to the Ko-Matoran manning the station, “Who left these tracks? They kind of look like-”

“It was a Ga-Skakdi. Kind of gruff, but he was polite enough given what folks say about his kind. Seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere,” the Matoran said. “You’re a Toa, right, one of the ones Dume sent for?”

“Yeah, sure.” she replied absently, already looking to see where the footprints led. “Thanks for your help.”

The damp sand made the tracks easy to follow. She could see that the Skakdi had returned in the same direction he’d approached from, further along the beach. And after following the footprints for a few minutes, she came upon a pair of large motorised boats moored by the shore. The footprints led to one of the boats, then turned further inland, towards a Vahki transport parked up off the beach.

Unlike the transport, which was blackened and battered and missing a few of its legs, the boats looked to be in pristine condition, clearly having been somewhere safe during the tsunami. Several crates were piled in and beside one of the boats… crates marked with warning stickers and the sign of Onu-Metru. Oh karz…

Sidra stopped before the boat and leaned down to pry away the lid of the nearest crate, already knowing what she was going to find inside. Mining explosives, no doubt taken from Onu-Metru only a few hours earlier. The dead Matoran had been right about the blast being too small. Someone had stolen the explosives, then set some of them off to cover their tracks.

But who? And why?

“Hey!”  

The voice startled her out of her thoughts, but the surprise wasn't the most startling thing about it. 

It was a voice that didn't belong in this place or time. A voice she knew.  

“Skirmisher?” Lariska said. “What the karz are you doing here?”

 

OOC: Part 2 of 5 of Sidra's Far Shore Adventure. 

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IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Earth

"Oh, well done," the Administrator said, sounding pleased.

Narrowly avoiding a painful demise on the crystal shards far below, the group assembled at last at the doorway underneath the floor. They proceeded into the tunnel. It was exactly as dark as the one above. Nothing could be seen, so each adventurer had to grope their way through the darkness. The earthen walls were smooth and cool to the touch, and the ground was free of snags or jags of rock upon which one could trip. After a minute or so of walking, the tunnel suddenly opened into a cavernous room.

This room appeared more intentionally designed than the first room they had seen, for the walls were carefully carved into a hexagonal shape. There were no rough edges here. The walls of the chamber were composed of packed earth, smooth as glass and black as pitch. In the center of the chamber stood a strange device that the adventurers would instantly recognize: it was the perfect twin of the machine in the ruins of stone—the one that had accepted a Great Disk from Atamai and given him something far greater in return. The floor before the device was engraved with the following numbers: 6-1-9. Beyond the device, a single word was carved into the far wall: NUVA.

"Congratulations," said the Administrator. "You saw through distorted reflections and discerned truth."

 

OOC: @Tarn @pokemonlover360 @The UltimoScorp @Onaku congratulations on solving the Ruins of Earth!

 

IC: Reliable Narrator | Relic Fields

Niidak placed the Miru on the statue's face. It slid on easily, almost effortlessly, like the statue's face had been deliberately carved to receive it. As the mask left her fingertips, she half-thought she felt a deep humming coming from within the statue, but it was gone almost before she noticed it. Instead, she stepped back to admire the effect. Whoever Hafu was, he was truly a master of his craft. Were it not for the blank eyes of slate-grey stone, she could almost swear the statue was alive behind the mask.

Bracing herself, Niidak tried to push the statue off the pedestal, hoping that the Miru's powers might somehow engage and cause the stone to become lighter. But no matter how hard she strained, the statue refused to budge. If anything, it seemed heavier. Panting from the effort, she stood straight and looked hard at the chunk of obstinate rock. There was no way it was heavier, right? That had to be a trick of her imagination. But she could swear she almost felt lighter again, like she was still wearing the Miru...

With a start, she realized she was lighter. Niidak was hovering a scant inch off the ground. The gentle breeze was already pushing her off to one side, but she reached out and grabbed hold of the statue to avoid being blown away. If she looked around, she would see that nothing else was floating, just her. Her hoverbike and her cache of looted equipment was still standing off to the side, as heavy as ever.

 

OOC: @Daniel the Finlander Niidak is levitating uncontrollably.

 

IC: Taja | Kini-Koro

"I don't know if he knows as much as we think he does," Taja said, a little unkindly. Evidently, she was still put off by the old toa's earlier remarks about shadow. "Is there anywhere else we  could look for answers? Any more temples or ruins you know of?"

 

OOC: @Nato the Traveler

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IC “Collector” - Tobduk-Koro

Collector sighed, that was not much help. They couldn’t exactly abandon this place to go on an adventure, they recalled what happened last time. They had a duty toTobduk-Koro. But more than that, the village needed unity, they needed to be unified, and everyone cared for. They could not leave on some errand.

Still, it was interesting that the Admin relied on a network of Suva and Ruins for its computing power. Given what they knew, there were likely twelve servers, and if only two were unengaged, that suggested the rest had all been activated, at least partly. Which suggested a lot more treasures hunting than they had suspected, 

Still, that was not relevant to now. So instead they began to look over the walls of the temple, tracing the ruins with their hands. As they worked they tried to keep their back to Ulkarr, hopefully letting the Aspect find whatever secret the ruin held. It was regretful they could not help, but they assumed their forced ignorance would be payment enough for the information earlier.

As Collector felt the walls and looked around, attempted to use their Kiril to patch up scratch or dent they saw or felt, particularly in the chamber of the NUVA Door. The leak that transformed Arkius had been there, if it happened again…

Now that the Nuva Door has been activated, can you tell us more of this ruin’s purpose?” They asked abruptly, “I believe you claimed that what happened to Toa Arkius had merely been a side effect.” A thought struck them suddenly, “And why were you deactivated anyway? If each ruin and Suva needs to be manually turned back on, what had turned each of them off?

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Toru Nui

… 

IC Mahrika - The Suva of Fire

The Desecrated Ga-Matoran rubbed her head, trying to think. As she paced she heard a groan, and looked up to see Ollem sweating extensively, even as he slid on the boots. “Take a break,” she encouraged, “I will keep working on the puzzle, you take care of yourself.” He nodded vaguely and left the boiling hot center of the Suva, leaving her alone with Vokarda.

Four is red, two is cream, one is dark green. Red/four is the only one to face a cardinal direction: north. There are three rings in the temple that are color coded to the statues. Lining the rings up with the statues and spinning them in complete circles did nothing.” She muttered to herself, trying to provoke an idea.

I suppose the rings might need to be turned a certain amount from the starting position of the statues. Like maybe green needs to be turned one segment, cream two, and red four. Not full rotations, at least except for red, just moving in thirds of the ring. But what would that have to do with north?

She supposed maybe north divided the Suva into east and west, sunrise and sunset. Maybe that was the direction to go? But both clockwise and counterclockwise would return to the east from the west eventually.

Well, at least she could always try again. Mahrika began to rotate each ring counterclockwise, so that the red ring and the cream ring aligned with the green salamander, and the green ring and lined up with the Cream bull

If that would not work, she would then rotate the rings clockwise, so that the cream ring and green ring aligned with the red Muaka, the red ring aligned with the bull.

Did any of those techniques work?

OOC: @Unreliable Narrator @Burnmad 

Edited by Harvali
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9 hours ago, EmperorWhenua said:

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro

The wizard nodded in the affirmative. "As I have spoken to you before, darkness shrouds information while light reveals it. The Kanihi Avohkii is not a mere elemental trinket, put simply, it illuminates knowledge and promotes understanding."

@BULiK @~Xemnas~

IC: Knichou, Kini-Koro

The Ghosts tried to keep tabs on the demigod's creations as much as they could, but the existence of the Avohkii was as much a myth to them as it was amongst Metru-Nui's archivists. Knichou continued to follow along, thinking over Stannis's revelations, before he spoke again.

"So what, you use the Avohkii to make Miserix understand the damage her grand wish would cause? Can the Avohkii even sway an Aspect from a quest that is so, as you said, primal? For all that Whisper has tried to become a living being, I wouldn't say that she is close to understanding our culture - and it remains to be seen just how close she can come to us. That might only be possible because her grand wish requires her to understand us."

Edited by BULiK
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IC: Detsu | Fort Nektann

A shape in the water. A wish to the dark. An ax in battle. A child's cry for their--

"I don't wish for nothing," Detsu said. The warskak spoke quickly and glanced away briefly, a gesture that lasted all of a microsecond, before looking back to Drukarus. "I served this fortress under Nektann, and I served it under Boss, and I reckon I'll die for it under Barius -- unless some jumped-up Skaklet manages to drag him back over to the Pits before then. But a good death in that time, that's all I need, that's all I de-- well, regardless.

"I'm no friend of that there demon," the warskak continued, jerking their head once again towards Parnassus, "but they are my charge for as long as Barius sees fit. Which means that I need to help them out with their business, shadowy as it may be. So I'm obligated to clarify for you that it's not you that the demon is scared of. It's that tall Matoran that wandered through here --  Stannis!"

OOC: @Sparticus147

IC: Irna | Kumu Landbridge

"Ever since Sorilax healed me," Irna called from the window, "my Zyglak constitution has returned to what it once was as a girl. Your ... what is it called? Radiation ... should no longer affect me while I'm out there, Kei. And would you even be able to reabsorb this radiation which hurting yourself in the process?"

After all, Irna still remembered the state that Keitara had been left in the last time they had tried to cross the swamp. The image of her friend, dazed and dehydrated and delirious on the floor of Waveahk's hauler, had haunted the woman as their band had gotten further and further from Metru-Koro and a supply of trained healers.

OOC: @TL01 NUVA @Keeper of Kraata

-Void

Edited by Conway
Tagged Keeper.
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IC: Niidak (Relic Fields)

Niidak did not panic or worry much when she felt herself become as light as a feather. Instead, she simply sighed, and thought how anything good in her life seemed to always be taken away from her. First she loses everything she held dear by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, then she miraculously survives the crash landing but descends into crime and depression. She finds a wounded Toa who might be grateful or in debt for her aid, only for some other explorer to appear out of nowhere to save her instead, getting all the credit. And now, she finally found valuable scrap to sell, but got a stupid idea. The worst outcome she had expected was nothing happening; clearly, she had become soft and was no longer pessimistic enough.

Her claws grasped the smooth surface of the statue, desperately hooking themselves into any nooks or crannies. She expected another gust of cold wind to simply blow her off into the sky. Some dreamed of flying, only to never experience it. Niidak dreamed of nothing, but got to fly anyways.

”No thanks,” she muttered, and glanced at her spear, still clinging to her shoulder on a strap. She detached the strap with her free hand and grabbed the shaft of the spear, then tried to poke the mask off from the statue’s lifeless face.

OOC: @Eyru

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IC Katrin of the Flame - Ruins of Earth:

Upon entering the chamber, Kat was struck by the change in the atmosphere. The air felt.... different, as if charged with energy, waiting to be unleashed. The strange machine in the middle of the room was interesting, but Kat found herself drawn to the carving on the far wall.

"Nuva...?" She asked, absently, and she reached out to touch the carved letters, tracing them with gentle fingers. "What.... what does Nuva mean?"

 @Onaku@Tarn@pokemonlover360@Eyru

Edited by The UltimoScorp
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IC: Tuyet | Metru-Koro

"Alright Grouch, take a chill pill it's, like, just an expression." She rolled her eyes as the League warrior stomped past then turned her focus to Okuo. He looked familiar. Too familiar. She narrowed her eyes in thought, then widened her expression in mild excitement when she recognized the toa standing before her.

"Hey Nerd, imagine seeing you again," Tuyet said as she jerked her chin in greeting towards Okuo. Although they'd known each other only briefly over a month ago, Tuyet seemed fully capable of providing a suitable nickname. She leaned forward to stand up, but thought better of it after wincing from the sudden nausea. "I guess you could say we know each other, or something like that. Oh, I saw Buddy about a day or two ago. I'm just glad you found me. Where's the tall one?" She snapped her fingers while trying to remember. "You know, the vortixx with the knife? She still, like, around or something?"

Finally she found herself capable of sitting up a little more, opting to cross her legs and plant her elbows on her knees for support. Wearing a faxon was a new experience, and she wasn't entirely sure if she liked having the options it offered. New mask, new powers, same old Tuyet.

OOC: @Nato the Traveler, @Onaku, @Tarn, @BULiK, quick response for now to keep conversation going.

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Happy chat.

 

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IC: Whisper - Kini-Koro

"Perhaps," she replied thoughtfully, "But I'd prefer to find out for sure what Stannis knows before I go searching elsewhere."

@Eyru

_________________________________________________________________________

IC: Xaril - Metru-Koro

Grumbling under his breath, Xaril sat down on a crate and waited for the Toa to finish their little reunion. The name Tuyet sounded familiar... one of the original Toa of Metru Nui? Though he'd thought they were all meant to be dead. Clearly this encounter was even more complex than he'd first thought. 

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Embers - a new Bionicle Epic - Coming 2024 

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BZPRPG Characters - Minnorak, Kain, T'harrak, Savis, Vazaria, Lash

BZPRPG Mercenary Group - The Outsiders - Description - History - Base

Ghosts Of Bara Magna - Ash Tribe - Precipere - Kehla, Somok, Skrall, Gayle, Avinus, Zha'ar

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IC: Okuo - Ko-Pou Shelter

"What happened to you? Or the plan to repair the collapsing paradox or whatever it was you were going to do?" Okuo had an expression that was a mixture of disbelief and bittersweet elation as he looked the wayward toa over. "World didn't stop falling apart after you disappeared, so..."

@Unreliable Narrator@Tarn@Nato the Traveler@BULiK

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IC: Drukarus (Fort Nektann)

"I don't wish for nothing,"

Drukarus was saddened by the answer, for it spoke volumes at how little Detsu dreamed. He did not dream of a Zakaz without battle, of a Zakaz with no need for warriors, of a Zakaz were peace was ensured for every generation. It was a shame. But the words that he said did speak to both his age and his dedication as a warrior, aspects that Drukarus could appreciate at least. He would have to remember the Skakdi's name once he is able to speak with Barius.

"So I'm obligated to clarify for you that it's not you that the demon is scared of. It's that tall Matoran that wandered through here --  Stannis!"

"Ah, I see..." Drukarus said to himself before speaking, "Toa, he was a Toa not a Matoran. And I will agree with Parnassus there...Stannis is someone to be afraid of...Back in my home, the Toa went be many names. Some of them were mundane; the Wandering Sage, the Prophet of Mata-Nui, the Mad Fool...Others...he claimed during the great war that destroyed a universe; the Warmage, the Prophet of Death, the Oncoming Storm...Wherever he went, tides would shift, forests wane, mountains crumple. His actions can turn an imminent rout into an absolute victory for whichever side he chooses. He is to be feared...If he is met with war and not words."

OOC: @Conway

IC: Vulimai (Kini-Nui, The Ampling Alp)

Stepping aboard the airship, Vulimai took a brief moment to survey the interior of it. It was a luxury ship, made into one for research, though neither were useful during the war. Continuing towards the rear end, Vulimai momentarily took in the view through the rear view port. She could have imagined herself here, under different circumstances, looking out towards the beauty of the valley, but those were very different circumstances, ones that were no longer possible.

 Moving into the room, Vulimai positioned herself next to one of the comfortable-looking chairs, standing next to it while supporting her weight on its arm. She was use to standing during meetings and official business, and so didn't care to sit in the chair next to herself.

"So...What is this mission I'm hearing, and how does it concern Kini-Koro?"

OOC: @Harvali @Tarn @Toru Nui

Edited by Sparticus147
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IC: Triage - Crimson Galleon

"Tuyet of the Mangai...I thought they were all gone...?"

Triage pretended to understand what Okuo was talking about, but clearly he'd missed out on something big. He looked to Exuze in confusion, but knew the Lesterin probably had no idea what was going on either. He raised an eyebrow.

"Who's 'buddy?'"

@BULiK@Onaku@Nato the Traveler@Unreliable Narrator

IC: Jutori - Earth Ruins

Jutori looked at the NUVA characters before them on the far wall, a disk machine much like the one in the Stone Ruins the only thing between the group and the power Arkius craved. If this had been the first time he'd been in a room like this, he'd been excited. But after finding out the reward given here was not for all who worked to reach it, and how it had changed both Atamai and Arkius...he was far less enthused.

Remembering something previous, the Toa of Gravity hesitated to approach the machine and spoke up, neglecting Kat's own question. "Admin, you never answered my question about what happened to Onua."


@Onaku@pokemonlover360@The UltimoScorp@Eyru

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[BZPRPG]
(shout out to max)

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IC: Viltia - Toa of the Green

Location - Le-Metru Nuva

 

Viltia swung her legs while seated on the left shoulder of Wairuha. She slowly absorbed a bowl of stew in her left hand as she wrote down notes in her book on her lap. She, and Sidra’s Kaita mech, were in a clearing of her own making. The trees had been told to use their roots to walk aside and branches had been rearranged to allow the 90 foot tall mech to be able to stand and move without destroying any nature.

The giant mech was down on one knee, arms and legs encased in giant, dead, and hardened ironwood trees. It was as if the trees had grown around the mech, which they actually had. In a way. They just did it at Viltia’s behest and not naturally.

Viltia wrote down another mask on her list. She had taken Sidra’s advice and didn’t go to Irnakk’s Tooth immediately after the Admin had given her a lead to try and figure out how to teach it Taboos so that she could then make Golden Masks. Instead she had stayed home and trained for a month, forging Kanoka, crafting Kanohi, and honing her skills. She didn’t really train her combat skills, instead focusing on using her element with greater control and mask powers better and more fluently while doing other things.

In the Fau Swamp, the Green was king and her mask of Rahi Control was queen. She didn’t really need to train combat skills.

In terms of safety, though, after Apex continued to dominate the Fau Swamp, Le-Metru Nuva was the safest it had ever been to date. Of course that safety came with an offset. After the island had shifted and they lost the marshes, defiled energized protodermis had crept its way into the already mutagenic swamp waters. This meant when a Rahi or giant insect attacked, it was wildly deformed and crazy powerful, not to mention unpredictable, causing heavy damage to the trees and the village.

Unfortunately, they had lost three more Matoran over the month to the ravages of the swamp. For all their Kanoka, Kanohi, and rudimentary technology, they still were only surviving, not quite thriving yet. At least not like Viltia hoped they would be some day. Any deaths were too many. Her Heartlight mourned over any loss of the villagers under her protection. She just wanted to reach out to them, even in death, and comfort them.

Perhaps… she could.

Viltia felt the weight of the Great Disc of Teleportation in her satchel and she thought of how Sidra had said she had died, twice, after becoming NUVA. Maybe if Viltia became NUVA too, she might be able to reach out to her friends and merge with them while she was dead. The idea intrigued her, but she wanted to figure out how to make Silver and Golden masks first. Only then would she seriously think about becoming NUVA, and potentially who to bring with her to get whatever had happened to that Leklo guy that had been with Sidra. NUVA close-by-ima or something.

Speaking of Golden masks, Viltia looked at her book. So far she had two lists of Golden masks that would be good to make and then use herself. She was working on a third. She tapped the back of her quill on her mask, idly absorbing more of the stew. The stew was swamp made, born of all the plants and Rahi that were safe to eat in the corrosive location. It tasted great, even devoid of most traditional seasonings.

She looked back at her lists. She had ideas of Golden masks for most of the Kanohi users in the village. Although she was having a hard time making any lists for Sidra. She just didn’t know what her friend might value the most. What would a former Dark Hunter turned village protector turned NUVA want?

She finished her stew. Well, it was a problem for another day. One of her tethers grabbed the empty bowl as a past her approached. Viltia was getting very good at having her mask of Time Duplication going for hours at a time, even when she was doing other things. She wasn’t the absolute best at it, and those other tasks needed to be simple and not full of fast decisions, but it was huge progress for her compared to where she had been when she had first become a Toa. But she guessed that was what happened when you practiced almost every day.

Past her alighted upon Waihura’s right shoulder, “Okay, so, we finished three more Kanohi and five Kanoka. Scout Viltia has done her route and helped out around the village. You know, making food and supplies for more buildings. Keeping the branch pathways clear and defensible.

Viltia nodded. She was glad she herself had come up with her system for what to do if she was ever summoned to the future. Two of her would forge and one would defend/help out the village. Viltia was working on having a fourth past her around, but so far she could only do that for a couple hours. Still, the amount of work she was able to accomplish at the forge had been incredible. Even spending so much time training her mask and element lately, she was still able to forge up a storm of Kanoka and Kanohi, both herself and her past selves.

It also helped that the forging hut had been completely rebuilt, this time on stilts to raise it up above the floodline. And they even had a third forge now. Circuit’s Removes Poison machine was working perfectly as well. Oh, and even Torch had started making masks again in his spare time, though mostly for the Matoran who wanted to display a new them in this new world they found themselves on. Beruv’s stencils provide the Kanoka with much needed identification. Everything was going great.

The ground threatened to kill them if they stepped in a puddle, but otherwise things were great.

Past Viltia stood upon Waihura’s shoulder and crossed her arms as she leaned on the hump on the mech’s back where the pilots sat, “I just got back from checking out the island, too.

Viltia looked at herself incredulously.

Past Viltia put up her hands in defense, “I know, I know. I’m not supposed to jeopardize our future by taking risks, but I couldn’t help myself.

Viltia sighed. She knew she would have done the same thing.

Well, actually, she had done the same thing, she just couldn’t remember doing it. She smirked at that.

Past Viltia continued, “All the villages look roughly the same. The Riggers are… mostly still how they were last time. That water ball is still to the east. And Nektann is to the northwest.

Viltia perked up at that. Nektann was to the northwest? She spared herself a few moments to think fondly of the time spent being merged with the Skakdi turned Tahtorak. She hoped soon that someone would want to merge with her for good. She just wanted to help everyone. To comfort them. Ease the experiences that were life.

Viltia turned to past her with concern as she thought of something more on topic, “You didn’t touch the Great Disc of Enlarge, did you?

Past Viltia shook her head, “No way. You and I both know we want to remember turning that into a Kanohi. If we can, anyway.

Viltia nodded, “Good.” After the arrival of defiled EP in the swamp, the Vuata Maca Tree had just been struggling to survive and not been able to produce any more crystals. She needed to do something soon to help it out. It needed to stay in good health, it provided most of the energy for the village. Maybe it needed more fresh water. The village certainly did. She would look into that later.

In the meantime, she had exchanged for the Vuata Maca Crystal in the Air Suva with just a random gem of equivalent size they had mined up. After a week of work, she had made a Great Disc of Enlarge. Since then, she had been trying to create a Legendary Mask of Growth. It seemed possible enough, though she wasn’t 100% sure. Still, she would keep going until she made the perfect mask. And if that still wasn’t enough, then it couldn’t be done.

She was going to work on it later today, actually. She had a feeling she was close. Her last couple attempts had been almost there. And each attempt only made her a better mask maker. She had thought she had reached her peak with the mask of Time Duplication, but it turned out there was another level of skill to reach. A new ring of growth.

Viltia put away her book and stood. Even at midday, the light under the canopy was faint and dim, so thick and lush were the leaves above her. All the villagers were normalized to it now, but it had taken some getting used to. She turned to her past self, “Thank you, me. I appreciate all you’ve done for us. All of us.”

Past Viltia smiled, “You would do that same.” She laughed, “Or did? I guess.

Viltia smiled as well, “Alright, you’ll see you later when you become me and talk with you.” Both Viltia’s looked confused at the statement, then Viltia turned off her mask and the past her disappeared.

Taking off the mask of Time Duplication, Viltia swapped it with the mask in her right side pouch. After having heard Viltia speak of the Air Suva and the potentiality for anyone, good or bad, to use the masks she had input into it, one of the villagers had created a belt for her. There were four pouches the size of Kanohi attached to the belt. One in the front, one in the back, and one one either side. The way the pouches were shaped kept masks from slipping out, but there was enough give for Viltia to be able to apply force and pull Kanohi in and out.

She kept her mask of Rahi Control in the back, and the other pouches varied depending on what she was doing.

But that wasn’t to say she hadn’t input more masks into the Suva. No way. She had added plenty of new masks into the Suva. They were ready for anyone who needed them/herself when she figured out how to make Silver and Golden Kanohi.

Viltia put on a Great mask of Removes Poison and went searching for Wing. Funny thing about a mask of Removes Poison. It could remove poison just fine. It could do it forever. But its secondary function of removing impurities absorbed the impurities directly into itself. If enough impurities were collected, the mask hardened and then crumbled to dust. It had been quite the shock to find out.

Thankfully, Viltia had the time and skill to make several masks of Removes Poison. But the defiled EP kept coming, and it was hard to keep the area beneath the village pure. Everywhere one looked, you could see puddles of pure EP becoming corrupted again whenever it rained and the water level rose. It was a constant battle of cleansing.

Viltia found Wing sitting on the lowest branch of a tree, staring at a spring of fresh water a couple minutes from the village. It was the new source of the village’s water after the old one had been destroyed when the marshes had.

Wing spoke as Viltia approached, never looking the Toa of the Green’s way. Her mask of Sonar now kept her from ever being snuck up on. It was kind of creepy. “You know, Viltia, we still don’t have a good path here.

Viltia sat down beside her.

Wing continued, “I don’t like it. It’s how we lost one Matoran, after all.

Viltia nodded, sadly remembering the incident. Her tethers softly moved in the gentle breeze that always seemed to be present when Wing was around.

They both stared at the spring. It wound along the ground, pure and fresh, but quickly joined a large, fetid pond. From there, its corrupting waters made their way in the direction of the village, providing no sustenance with their mutagenic properties.

Viltia tilted her head in thought, scratching at her mask. “Do you think we might be able to move the pond? Then the spring would be clean and fresh, running right by the village and the Vuata Maca Tree.

HUH,” Wing worked her jaw back and forth. The pond was fairly large. It couldn’t exactly be moved by buckets with the dangers of its waters. But… something nagged at the back of her mind. Some possibility she couldn’t quite figure out yet.

The option to simply pump it to the village was out of the question. It was too much piping to install. And they didn’t even have enough materials to make enough piping. Plus, the acid rain might ruin anything they set up, calling for even more resources to somehow protect the piping.

Yeah, somehow getting rid of that pond was the far better, and potentially faster, option.

The question was: How?

Wing turned to Viltia, “That might just work, actually. Thanks. I have something brewing in my mind. I’ll talk things over with Torch, see if he has any ideas on what we could do.

Viltia smiled and nodded, “Alright, well my morning stuff is done, I’m off to the forge!

Wing rolled her optics, but a smile played at the corner of her mouth, “You like forging way too much, you know that, right?

Mock pouting, Viltia stuck out her metallic tongue at the fellow Toa, “I don’t care. See ya!

Viltia’s tethers swept her from her perch, instinctually grabbing branches through her plantlife senses. The small bits of light that did make it through the canopy played across her as she practically flew through the air.

As she moved, she passed the wide expanse of open area she had cleared for Sidra’s Kaita mech. With help from past hers, she had created a lane of open space that wound northeast to the land bridge that was now the only thing that connected them to the rest of Zakaz. The canopy 100 feet up and above was still there, providing aerial cover for the large “pathway”. And Viltia had grown many vines and tall shrubs along the way as well to hide that there actually was any sort of path. But those things would do nothing to hinder Waihura leaving Le-Metru Nuva and the swamp as a whole.

And speaking of warping the swamp to her whim, since the arrival of defiled energized protodermis to the swamp floor, Viltia had been busy creating branch pathways to and from the village. They spread far and winding. The ones near the village were under constant surveillance. But now the villagers had escape routes should they ever need to leave. The branch pathways too were full of twists and misdirections, but they were safe enough that even the non-Le-Matoran could run along them and not fall.

At first they had been merely convenient, but soon the village realized they were required. The swamp floor with the defiled EP wasn’t just dangerous, but deadly. Now they only went down below to get water, forge discs, or mine ore. It was kind of sad. Viltia missed the beauty the swamp floor could provide. At least the village hadn’t stopped growing. It sprawled along the branches of several trees now, with more huts and platforms than they knew what to do with. It was pretty great.

Viltia arrived at the new forging hut. She took off the acid-resistant bark hat that she made every time she went outside, absorbing it without a thought. After applying the precision she had learned from mask making to creating her element, a simple hat was easy to make again. She quickly donned her heavy apron and gloves. The heat was a little much, but she was far too used to it now to even think on it. She grabbed her Great Disc of Growth and brought it to a nice orange glow. Then she grabbed her hammer.

Time to try again.

 

OOC: Viltia’s finally back! Let’s see where SKA takes her.

Started GM approved quest to get a Vuata Maca Crystal.

Viltia's profile has been updated to show everything she has in the Air Suva.

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--------- “BRUH” -Makuta, probably ---------

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IC Kanohi - Kini-Nui

Kanohi winced, and looked away, embarrassed and ashamed. The repercussions of this idea was starting to really hit him. It was … he wasn’t sure what to do. But he … he had a duty to continue. N-no, he and the Vahki had Unity, they were kin from the flood. He … he had to honor that unity.

I … I realize now just how important this is. I do not know what to do, and it would affect many lives either way. And I am sure Councilor NU will explain this better than me. But, it’s … Councilor NU has alerted me to the fact that most Vahki still are slaves of the League.

We M-Matoran have little right to judge. It … I do not know if you know of Kilo, he was one of the explorers who found where Tobduk-Koro was founded, as well as helped find the Great Disks of Earth and Stone. He also was an early model of robot called a Kralhi that were replaced by the Vahki. And when the Vahki replaced his people … the Matoran ordered them to slaughter any Kralhi who refused to die. We … we ordered a genocide because we decided a people had become obsolete. And we that a people did not count as alive.

The Fe-Matoran swallowed, “the Vahki should not be forced to keep serving anyone, including Matoran or Toa. We … I wish to liberate the Vahki from control of the League. This would likely violate the truce between us and the league. Unless we could convince Barraki Aurax to free them, but I do not know how. Nor do I know how we could free them. If we built a new hive, it would likely have less influence than the Metru-Nui ones. It might be possible to have the hives, but I am not tech savvy enough to know how.

Councilor Kanohi leaned on his staff, “I … I do not know how to proceed. I … I do not want a renewed war. I do not want more d-death. But the order of slavery is no peace at all. At the same time, if we did try to free them, Barraki Aurax might blame you too. Kini-Koro could be caught in the crossfire, regardless of whether or not you agree to help this plan. And that would not be fair to you.

He looked at Vulimai’s feet, unable to match her gaze. “I … a wise Vortixx reminded me once that the greatest virtue of ours is Unity, the bonds we have together. I … I am sure that something must be done, but I believe it should be done with consent from Kini-Koro as well as Tobduk-Koro. So p-please, any advice, any suggestion you have, any concern, please let us work through them together.

OOC: @Sparticus147 @Toru Nui @Tarn

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"Danger is the anvil on which trust is forged"-Jaller(Jala) :smilejala: 
"We're on our own here-like we've always been-and we'll stand or fall on our own"-Tanma
"He may seem slow and strange to you, but his simple words often carry a hidden wisdom"-Turaga Vakama on Kapura

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Kanohi: Stories of a Matoran Vigilante The Impact of a Rebirth: a Kanohi Fanfic The Willing Exiles: a Kanohi Fanfic SKA PC Profiles: Kanohi, Collector, Mahrika Kardaka BZPRPG Profiles Avatar by @Harvali 

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5 hours ago, BULiK said:

IC: Knichou, Kini-Koro

"So what, you use the Avohkii to make Miserix understand the damage her grand wish would cause? Can the Avohkii even sway an Aspect from a quest that is so, as you said, primal? For all that Whisper has tried to become a living being, I wouldn't say that she is close to understanding our culture - and it remains to be seen just how close she can come to us. That might only be possible because her grand wish requires her to understand us."

IC Stannis | Kini-Koro

The three toa had been walking for a while, by then, as Stannis had led the duo in an aimless meander down the footpaths and walkways that served as streets for the nascent village. Unlike Metro-Koro, which had been a ramshackle affair build on the chaotic needs of a refugee village and chaotic applications of mathematics on a sprawling scale, Kini-Koro was placid, inconspicuous, and both fashioned out of and in tune with the temple valley's natural beauty. It cradled the lake of the Kini-Nui, adopting a crescent shape like the shadow of a lunar eclipse, and a small number of pencil streams flowed into the lake through the village, which had constructed small footbridges of naturally-felled logs over the trickling brooks. 

"That is only one application of knowledge and understanding," Stannis explained to Knichou, "and it would be wholly ineffective against an Aspect's ill-intended Wish. They weave confusion through lies of omission, not untruth, and no level of sharing knowledge with them would reap a benefit to you—or anyone. No, the usefulness of the Avohkii's power is to educate the user by illuminating the paths forward. Would you have done the things you have done, the way you did them, had you known there were better ways? This question could well be dismissed as theoretical, but instead we have learned that the past always returns... and that we are bound to repeat mistakes we made unless we learn from them, so the matter is more real than some would think. 

"We can counter the actions of insidious people by understanding them and seeing through their machinations. It is not a Rode, which reveals only truths, but something greater still. It is knowledge, and when the darkness falls it is knowledge that keeps people safe."

They stopped, then, as they had come full circle and were where their walk had begun; all in all had done so little in their stroll that neither Knichou or Atamai had realized the pointlessness of the walk. The whole while, however, Stannis seemed to have been aware of where he was going, leading with a certain degree of self-assuredness that defied his logical understanding of the town's geography, stepping around obstacles and winding through streets like they were the crags on his armor. 

"Nice town," he said.

 

@BULiK @~Xemnas~

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IC: Viltia - Toa of the Green

Location - Le-Metru Nuva

 

She could have used a mask of Fate to make the process easier, but she refused to do so. If she was going to make a Legendary mask, she was going to do it with her own skill. Her hammer rang like a melody, the metallic protodermis she was working on accepting her shaping with flashes of sparks.

Viltia now knew that you could tell how well the creation process of a mask was going through sound alone. The more melodic the tone, the better, and the more flat and empty the noise, one knew failure drew near.

And shape, shape was not a problem. Viltia now knew how to make a Great Kanohi of Growth by Heartlight. She had actually done the process in her dreams several times. Where nuance mattered was in the subtle variations of the curves, the techniques used in folding the creases, and the crispness in the edges. The metal of the Kanohi needed to be perfectly and evenly distributed throughout the entire mask. You needed to be able to bring the mask to a shine before even polishing it, so pure needed to be the ingredients and so careful the technique in making it.

Viltia had done this with the Kanohi of Time Duplication, making a mask above all other masks she had made to that point. Oddly enough, after a month of nonstop practice, that slowly had become her normal level of work.

Her organic protodermis muscles were even more toned now, specifically trained to handle the Kanohi making process. Her hammer came down with a sort of gentle force, neither too hard nor too soft. The angles with which she struck, the ways she gripped the handle, the varying size of hammers she used, these all played their own part.

When the mask cooled too much, it was reintroduced to the forge. Viltia’s optics danced over it as it sat inside, watching to make sure it grew to the perfect temperature and no more. Then it was back in her tongs, being formed once more.

Like with Time Duplication, any small impurity or blemish would immediately cause the power of the mask to manifest, ruining it. She had lost count of the attempts ruined by the smallest mistake.

But all this grueling, straining work merely filled her with joy. She had created her own Destiny. A Toa of the Green, a Kanohi crafter? She never in a hundred thousand years thought she would ever do anything other than tend to her plants. Yet here she was, fueled with an inner energy to continue her work, to try one more time, to never give up. There were still many mask powers she had never made. There were possibly mask powers no one else had ever figured out yet. And the mask she worked on now, if she could make it, she might very well be able to make a mask that stood above all others, or at least on par with the mask of Creation.

An hour passed as she expertly worked on the mask. Then two more. An attempt had never taken her this long before. She wanted to take a break, but something told her not to. So she pushed on, arms starting to strain at the constant movement. Dinner came and went. Hunger couldn’t touch her, however. She was focused solely on her task. Not even Nektann showing up again could distract her.

With the lightest of taps, finished the final flourish of the final form. The mask was done. She had done it. It was a mask of Growth, but it was not just a mask of Growth. It was the epitome of a mask of Growth, full of form and grace. It had small garnishes on it, leaves that bent under rain. They represented herself and Nektann. The Green and Water.

She dunked it in water, hardening it and starting the cooling process. There was still a possibility of failure in this stage, but she could feel it. She had done it.

Viltia couldn’t celebrate though. She was exhausted. The only thing that kept her from napping right then and there was the small possibility of failure. So she sat, staring at the mask as it cooled and settled. For an hour she sat, shifting every so often but never fully moving.

At one point she created an apple for herself to absorb for sustitence, but otherwise her focus was still singular. Finally, the time came and she moved to the mask, reverently taking it in her hands. She beamed when she saw it had the silver luster powered masks had when not worn.

Slowly turning it around, she took off her mask and put the mask of Growth on. Her mind filled with its power, waiting to be called upon and used. Her whole body settled and calmed. She hadn’t realized how tense she had been.

Shakily taking off her gloves and apron, she left the forging hut. Night was in full swing and she headed straight for bed. Her tethers hugged her even as her new mask sat adorned on her face. She fell asleep and dreamed she still was making masks.
 

OOC: GM permission given to create custom “Lesser” Legendary Mask of Growth.

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--------- “BRUH” -Makuta, probably ---------

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IC: Korio Karasha - Irnakk's Tooth/?????

Korio was still charging triumphantly into battle with his allies, Yumiwak's presence and feeling of being this close to their goal filling him with determination. However, as he ran, there came a sensation. A tingle up his spine, but he couldn't figure out what was causing it. He suddenly felt a deep dread, but then that feeling somehow turned...to peace. As he looked around, he found he was no longer in the caverns of the volcano. It was a plain, somewhere else on Zakaz. He knew this place.

A small home could be seen ahead of him, a mahi skull adorning the door. He knew this place.

He didn't understand it. He didn't want to, as he ran faster and faster, until he burst through the wooden door. The inside looked just how he remembered it, every piece of furniture. Every weapon decorating the walls. "M-mum...?" he called out. Korio was still hesitant to believe any of what he was seeing, but what came around the corner to greet him was not some horrid amalgamation but...

"Kor!" replied the rough voice of his mother, a purple-armored Skakdi of Gravity. She was where he'd gotten his looks. The Ba-Skakdi embraced him--a tight grip, that he always worried would break his spine one day. Now he welcomed being able to feel it again. "Yer dad's out fightin'. Where you been, my boy? Huh...you've grown, too." She let go and, noticing a small lizard crawling on their rahi-skin couch, Korio's mother snatched it and bit its head off. She offered the snack to him. "You hungry? Look like you haven't ate in a while."

"Uh, n-no thanks, mum...look, I thought...this place got--?" Korio stammered, unable to process what was happening. The home looked like it always did, but not how it looked when he last saw it. It was still standing. Had everything he'd been through...not happened? No, everything being a dream in the end--too cliché. He suddenly grabbed his mother (if it really was her) by the shoulders. "Mum, listen. You remember, don'tcha? The warband that came through? Bloody stomped the place to bits? I came home--you told me never to come back but I did--and found the place burning to the ground. You and dad..."

The Ba-Skakdi's opticed widened, then she smiled and laughed. Korio frowned and felt his stomach drop. "Kor, what're you talkin' about? You hit yer head? I'm right in front of ya aren't I?"

Korio shook his head. "No! You're not, and I know you're not because--"

He stopped. The thing before him wasn't his mother. Never had been. Her optics and heartlight had turned grey, and her armor and the "skin" beneath it had begun to rust and rot away. What he was holding onto was no longer a living Skakdi, but a burned corpse. And the worst part, was that it kept speaking.

"Nonsense," it said, despite the state of the body meaning it shouldn't have been able to. "Now, yer dad will be home from fightin' any minute and he'll be...glad...to...see...ya..."

The corpse crumbled to dust, having well and truly withered away. As Korio looked around, he realized the house had began to decay, too. A fire had consumed it and was still spreading, having come to a perfect stop in a circle around him and the doorway. Something began knocking, loudly, making the door shake on its hinges. Korio pulled out his crossbow. "No, it ain't right," he said, taking aim at whatever was about to enter. "None of it ain't...somebody's screwin' with me! This isn't how it went."

A muffled voice spoke from behind the door, cracks beginning to form in the wood from the force being applied. "Kor?" came a twisted attempt at mimicking his father. "You in there? It's been a while, why don't you..."

A hulking figure burst through, only bearing a passing resemblance to the Vo-Skakdi that had helped raise Korio. Another burnt corpse, armed with a heavy war club.

"...say hello to your old man."

Korio grit his teeth, the reflex sight on his bow focused on the monster's head. "I'd say hello to the grave I'm gonna send you back to, 'cause you ain't my dad, demon. Now..."

Without hesitation, he fired.

"...kindly get the karz out of my head, will ya."

The thing lunged forward swinging its club, but the arrow met its mark right between the walking corpse's optics. Still having momentum, its arm kept moving and the club came round to Korio's head. He flinched and shut his optics, expecting to feel the impact.

When he opened them again, he was back where he was. A rock wall across from Korio now had an arrow planted in it, and he swore under his breath as he retrieved it.

"Bloody...karz...hate this place..." he said. The arrow had stuck further in than he'd thought, and using his full strength to pull out caused him to fall backwards once it was free--snapping it in two, the arrowhead still firmly in the wall. The Vo-Skakdi dusted himself off and got to his feet, tossing the now useless remains of the shaft over his shoulder. "Bloody scary and it ain't even real. Hmph. Must be close if we're seein' things."

@EmperorWhenua@pokemonlover360@Vezok's Friend
 

Edited by Tarn
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IC: Viltia - Toa of the Green

Location - Le-Metru Nuva

 

The next morning she looked around to see if anyone was watching. She was alone. Which made sense, she was on the swamp floor, after all.

She had already made sure the area around her was clear and neatly stamped down. Waihura was secured nearby. With a thought, she began to grow. She approached and passed sixty feet tall. Still she kept going. She reached the height of Waihura when the mech was standing, and still she kept going.

As her head broke through the cleared out canopy above, she guessed she was about 120 feet tall. Now she felt like when she had controlled the Tahtorak. Power filled her limbs, just like when she wore a mask of Strength. Possibly on the same level.

She moved her hands, noting how her increased size slowed her actions, since there was literally more of her for her brain to send signals through her wiring. She squealed in joy, the noise far deeper than she was used to. The sound, though deadened by all the leaves, branches, and trunks, still carried through the swamp for a way.

Viltia covered her mouth, the action delayed slightly. Just like her other masks, she was going to have to train with this to understand how to use it properly.

Her feet, though on packed mud, still sunk into the ground. Her tethers were massive, lighting up the dark under canopy with their meager silver glow.

Well, that was enough of that. Wing needed her for something. Viltia deactivated the mask and slowly shrunk back to normal. She placed it in her left pouch, making sure it was secure before heading towards where the guard leader had told her to go.

A minute later she arrived at the fetid pond near the freshwater stream, surprised to see several villagers there with shovels and several large piles of fresh mud. Even Torch was there, standing tall in his new form, his staff on his back. Wing turned to her, “Ah, good. Viltia. Torch and I figured out what to do. When I remove the water, use roots to churn up the muck that’s left over. Try to pull it down so none of it is left over. We can’t have any mutagen left over or this won’t work.

Oh! Okay. That’s what Wing wanted her for. Viltia nodded in affirmation. She was ready to help. She was glad Wing had come up with a plan. She had been a little busy the day before.

Wing took a deep breath to ready herself, “Okay, in 3… 2… 1… Go!” Wing raised her arms and summoned her element, a strong gale suddenly roaring through the air, the leaves and branches above them rustling furiously. The water of the foul pond was cast away, funneled off deeper into the swamp. Wing’s optics scanned quickly as she constantly checked to make sure none of the water reached the beings standing next to her.

The pond slowly drained, the water forcefully making its exit. When there were just a couple puddles left, Wing kept going, now chucking hunks of mud off into the swamp. She lowered one arm, now focusing on keeping the stream of fresh water from ruining their plans.

Viltia immediately got to work, calling upon her own element. The roots of a nearby banyan tree broke from the muck, scooping, puling, and curning the bottom of the former pond. Great loud slurping noises could be heard from the mud as it was moved. This went on for a good thirty seconds. Then the roots settled, slipping back below the ground.

Torch stepped forward, raising his staff. From its tip leapt flames, rapidly drying out and baking the newly churned mud. Hopefully that was enough to cleanse it of any lingering mutagenic taint. His flames were fewer than when he had been a Toa, but they still burned just as hot. The mud grew hardened and turned a different color. When finished, he lowered his staff, though he didn’t lean on it.

Viltia could see a glint of pride in his optics. She wondered what he had just proven to himself. Wait… had he even used his powers since becoming a Turaga? She couldn’t remember even one instance of his using his element in the last month. Huh, maybe this was the first time. That might explain a few things.

As Torch ended, everyone started shoveling, piling high the fresh mud. The beings with larger feet moved in and stomped it down, trying to pack it in as every else continued shoveling. In five minutes, the pond was gone. In its place was a pathway for the stream and a gradient hill that would hopefully keep another pond from forming.

Everyone moved away as Wing lowered her other arm, letting the freshwater stream flow once more. It slowly found its way over the new patch of ground. As it found the other side, Viltia leaned down close, inspecting it. A smirk formed on her face, blossoming into a smile. “It’s clean! We did it!

Everyone cheered for a good three seconds before something shrieked ferociously in the distance, reminding them of where they lived. They quickly stopped and shifted to handshaking and pats on the back, giving quiet congratulations to each other. Then, to stay on the safe side, they all picked up their shovels and carefully made their way back to the village.

Meanwhile Viltia followed the stream as it meandered towards the village. It  eventually hooked south and Viltia was led to the wall of trees surrounding the Vuata Maca Tree. The stream disappeared through a gap in the wall and she climbed over it, having to go up a good sixty feet to get over.

Inside the clearing stood the Vuata Maca Tree, strong and proud. Wiring was wound around the branches and running off into the canopy. The tree provided most of their power now. Viltia walked up to it and placed a hand on its moss covered bark. Water trickled behind her, forming a small pond in the walled in clearing before finding another small hole in the wall to escape through.

As if in response to her unasked question, the bark started to part as a new crystal was formed. Viltia clenched her fist in victory. YES! This proved the tree indeed needed help. This wretched swamp was probably constantly trying to corrupt it again. Who knew what else she might need to do to get another crystal to form.

She gently tapped the crystal and like before, it fell into her hands, the bark closing up as it left. It vibrated almost imperceptibly with power, faintly glowing. Viltia held it to her chest. This was one more Great Disc. Or perhaps a backup healing session in case the tree ever needed help. Either way, she was not ready to make any decision regarding the crystal. She put it in her satchel on top of her crude compass, next to her book, and behind the Great Disc of Teleportation.

She turned. Okay, it was time to start branching out. Her plan was to go to Kini-Nui, trade Kanoka for stuff Le-Metru Nuva needed, and then go to Irnakk’s Tooth and meet the Remaker guy the Admin had told her about. She was pretty sure she was ready.

Maybe.

She kind of was waiting for Sorilax to show back up. She wanted his opinion on all of this Admin, Suva, Remaker stuff. Plus she was starting to get worried about Sala and him. They had now been gone over a month. She hoped they were okay.

 

OOC: Vuata Maca Crystal quest completed.

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IC: Exuze, Metru-Koro, The Crimson Galleon

Exuze shrugged as Triage looked to him. He hadn't a clue what Okuo was on about. At least there was one question Exuze could answer best.

"Tha vortixx didn't wanna come along. She offered ta slit ya throat so she could loot ya... maybe she figured after that, probbly best not ta stick 'round case ya did wake up."

"Anyway, yea, who's buddy and what's'he got?" Exuze said, reiterating Triage's question. This time mumbo jumbo could wait - Exuze needed to know who buddy was, if he attacked her, and if he was going to murder Ghosty. Whoever the Karz that might be.

IC: Knichou, Kini-Koro

Stannis's plan was all-too familiar to Knichou - predict the future to save the present. Knichou still had no clue whether Tuyet didn't do it properly, or if she did the best she could and prevented even worse scenarios, or if it was already too late. This is why Knichou wanted to be the one to do it - at least he'd know what went right and what went wrong, instead of being left to pick up the pieces afterwards.

Stannis's plan rested on as much faith that this Kanohi operated how he hoped as Knichou's plan had back in Metru-Nui. Both hinged on using a legendary power to predict and shape the future. It was worrying that Stannis, who had warned Knichou of seeking that kind of power, and compared Miserix's plans to that of Dume, saw this as his only course of action. Was Miserix such a threat that it would cause Stannis to abandon his previous qualms of seeking the near-absolute power of legendary Kanohi? Perhaps the only way to fight such a grand wish, a magic that could change the world one perceived, was a kanohi of reality-bending power.

Knichou wondered if his usage of Artakha's Kanohi had convinced the elder that such power could be used responsibly. Although, perhaps it forces Stannis's hand now that such powers were in play. Escalation?

"Nice town," the wizard said.

"Thank you. Not my most elaborate work, but... well... it works."

Edited by BULiK
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IC: Viltia - Toa of the Green

Location - Le-Metru Nuva

 

Circuit helped her load Kanoka into the crates she had just grown. Viltia made them so that the Kanoka were snug and wrapped up tight. She couldn’t have them activating on her accidentally.

Circuit continued talking, “And don’t settle. Your work is better than most others. You deserve a higher price for quality alone. Your time and level of skill is valuable and needs to be factored into the trade.

Viltia slid a Kakoka into a second box. Each crate held six discs. She was kind of getting overwhelmed by all this trading and price talk. In Le-Metru Nuva, everyone worked together to survive. They didn’t have the luxury of commerce yet, though they were getting there, even with their small group. And back in her original village, it had been her job to grow food and flowers for the village. She didn’t get paid per plant, just per week by one of their Turaga, and she hadn’t even cared much about widgets, not really spending them other than on food and gardening supplies.

Meanwhile the Vortixx before her thrived on commerce, on creating high end products and charging even higher for them. “Maybe you should go instead?

Circuit shook her head, intense optics drilling into Viltia’s, “I don’t sell things. I create them, with elegance. Plus beings are more likely to accept a strange Toa into their midst. Even one with… what are they called?

Viltia looked down at herself, “Tethers.

Circuit snapped her fingers, “Yes. Even a Toa with tethers. Don’t fret, I’ve just taught you well. If you trade with another Toa or with Matoran, odds are you’ll get a fair offer first go ‘round anyway.” She closed up the third box, “Alright, we’re done. Go get ‘em. You got this, Viltia.

Viltia rubbed her fingers together, starting at the crates before her. She wasn’t much one for going out and making friends. Generally friends just kind of showed up for her. And this would be her talking with strangers. Trying to negotiate trades. Viltia started to freak out a little bit, her mind racing with what could go wrong. Then she remembered Sidra had just gone to Kini-Nui too. That eased all her fears. If she got in over her head, she could just scream SIDRA in her mind and her friend would come running. Yeah, okay, She had a lifeline if she needed it. She could do this.

Viltia grabbed the three boxes with her tethers, forced to readjust under the weight with her legs as most of her tethers were now occupied. “Okay. I got this. Thanks, Circuit. I’ll see you later.” Viltia activated her mask of Flight and wove through the canopy and into the light of day. When she got sufficiently high enough to see the mountain range where Kini-Nui sat, she swapped out her mask of Flight with the mask of Quick Travel in her front pouch. Having already practiced this maneuver several times, there was no panic as she started falling during the swap.

Then the mask of Quick Travel was on her face, her target optically acquired. A short activation later and her atoms lost locality and then regained it in a completely different place. She stood waist deep in the snow, overlooking a lush jungle in the valley far below her. The jungle parted to a large clearing, revealing a large lake with several structures on it. Around the clearing, and built into the cliffs, was a village of a few thousand Matoran and various other species. They were small specks of color that swirled around, living their lives and oblivious to her.

Viltia sure hoped they wouldn’t be freaked out by her tendrils. It had taken the beings of Le-Metru Nuva a bit to get used to. What if she was immediately attacked?

She steeled her mind. She had to take the risk. The village needed certain supplies they couldn’t make themselves.

Okay, she was getting awfully cold up here in the snow. Less than a second later she was amidst the village, Matoran stepping around her as they went about their lives.

Viltia braced for the cries of alarm, of fright. Surprisingly... none came.

Why wasn’t everyone freaking out? Viltia turned to look around. Tethers weren’t a normal thing here, were they? A splash of pink caught her optics. Something floated in the distance, black and pink. It had a dome and tendrils trailing below it. No one was freaking out about it, despite Viltia knowing for sure that that wasn’t normal. Viltia closed her mouth, which she just realized had been hanging open. Maybe she wasn’t the weirdest thing to see here after all.

Okay, now where looked like a good place to figure out where to trade? Viltia slowly spun around, noticing not just several potentially good looking shops to start her trading process, but also that a large portion of beings around her had pitted and tarred masks, just like Morangad had had. Was that a Zakaz thing? It certainly hadn’t been normal where she was from.

Something golden caught her attention. It was someone’s mask, or at least parts of the mask. She took a couple strides closer, intrigued. She grabbed one of the crates from her tethers with her arms so she could move around more easily if she needed to.

Had someone painted parts of their mask gold? She wove through the crowd until it petered out and she left it, stepping down the grassy hillside. The being with the crimson/golden mask turned from one of his compatriots to the next. They all looked to be Toa. As he turned, the glint from the gold in the sun faded and Viltia saw the mask in its full majesty.

It. It. It was- It was PERFECT.

Viltia numbly and unknowingly took a couple steps closer to get a better look. Her mouth hung agape as she gawked at the mask. If the Legendary Mask of Growth she had just made was a tier above every other mask, then this one was at least two tiers above that. She didn’t even have to touch it to know it was perfectly smooth. Every crevice pristine, every corner just ever so slightly rounded. The forms used in its design were revolutionary, displaying a level of grandeur she didn’t think was possible. It was a crimson mask, but parts of it seemed as if they were gilded with gold, perfectly accenting its design. It was bold where it needed to be and subtle everywhere else. It was everything a mask could be and more.

She knew she would never be able to make a mask like this. This was the mask all others looked up to. One mask above the rest.

As she came close to the group unintentionally, a faint floral scent gently wafted from her, like an oceanside garden in the summer. Viltia paid no mind to Stannis or Atamai, focusing solely on Knichou’s Mask of Creation, though she knew not their names, nor the true nature of the mask.

She was severely geeking out.

 

OOC: @BULiK @EmperorWhenua @~Xemnas~ Viltia says hello to the Legendary Mask of Creation.

 

IC: Cravious - Skakdi of Lightning

Location - Kumu Peninsula

With - Whira, Tekmo

 

As they walked, Cravious’ X-Ray Vision easily cut through the mists. The land around them was intimidating, all black and hard angles, but after Irnakk’s Tooth, nothing fazed him. Everything else had been easy street so far.

He did see a rock that looked suspiciously familiar, but whether that was because he had seen it before or whether he had seen a rock just like it somewhere else he wasn’t sure. If it was the former, it made sense. Beings without X-Ray Vision were leading this expedition, after all. If he saw the rock for a third time, he would mention it.



OOC: @~Xemnas~ @Toru Nui @Unreliable Narrator

Edited by Kal the Guardian
Updated description of MoC to reflect it's true appearance on Knichou.
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IC Ysocla - Irnakk's Tooth - In which Ysocla goes on a trip down memory lane:

As the trio of skakdi began their pursuit after the Mesi group, Yumiwak and Korio sprinted ahead of Ysocla. Zataka soon raced past the hobbling skakdi, not paying her any mind. As the rocky terrain of the volcanic tunnel they were traversing began to noticeably slope downwards the ground became much rougher and harder to traverse for someone with only one functioning leg. Already her companions had vanished ahead of her, obscured by the twists and turns of the trail they traveled. Ysocla herself attempted to increase her pace, taking bolder steps and practically rowing herself forwards with her cane. The non-handicap accessible path tripped her up soon after and she fell to the ground, sword-cane clattering along the ground away from her grasp as she rolled to a stop.

She painfully rolled onto her stomach and glanced around for her cane but couldn’t find it through a cloud of smoke that had begun to fill the tunnelway. Attempts to gaze through the smoke with her x-ray vision proved futile and she sighed and started crawling along the ground, dragging her shattered leg behind her. Like a nearsighted individual trying to find their dropped glasses Ysocla searched the ground for her cane, finding nothing as she ran her hands over the floor. After a minute or two without success she paused a moment to wipe the sweat that had formed on her brow. The air was warm and devoid of moisture given the volcanic setting so she wasn’t surprised by how exhausted she was getting. A familiar burning scent in the smoke pooling around her gave her pause before she could write it off as another volcanic effect. She considered the implications for a moment before resolving to continue searching.

The break in scanning proved to be what she needed, as her altered perspective revealed her trusty tool a few arm lengths away through the haze. A bit of crawling later had her holding her trusty walking stick once more. She began to prop herself back onto her feet when a blue hand reached down to offer her assistance. Gazing up to identify her would be helper, an all too familiar face awaited her. The giant sneer on the face that looked back at her was matched by the increasing scowl on her own.

Hey there sis,” said the lavender-eyed figure. “Need a hand?

As the recognition at who was standing in front her set in, Ysocla immediately moved to bat away the blue skakdi’s hand. Her slap made no contact, as her brother’s hand simply dissolved into wisps of smoke at her touch. The azure skakdi chuckled to himself as the engineer struggled back to her feet. Now standing a head taller than the younger skakdi, Ysocla stared past him over his head and continued walking forward, not even hesitating when his body dispersed into smoke. The same familiar burning smell filled the air where he had once stood, but Ysocla continued walking.

Around the next corner in the tunnel, she was not surprised to encounter her brother once more, leaning against the side of the tunnel with as much swagger as an egotistical teen could manage. He gave a quick wave as she approached which she did not return before walking beside her down the tunnel. Resting his hands behind his head, he began whistling to himself before turning around and walking backwards down the tunnel, keeping pace with his unwilling companion’s hobbling.

You know, I don’t blame you, not for anything,” the youthful skakdi finally said. “Sure, mom and dad wanted you to live differently, but it’s worked out so far for you, right? I mean, you haven’t changed anything for the better yet, but at least you still have your own two legs to stand on.” He glanced down at her shattered leg before laughing. “Oh wait, you don’t even have that! Funny how good intentions work out.

The pair traveled deeper around a few more corners until the next bend revealed a doorway rather than more tunnel. Simple wooden planks made up the wall surrounding the basic red door. Some ramshackle windows with white trim were placed on either side of the door, though Ysocla could not see what was behind them. She continued forwards as her brother stayed behind, staring at her as she left. A curious feeling made her extend a hand out as she reached the wall, only to discover that she could not pass through it; It was a solid a wall as it had been back when it was part of her childhood home. A quick turn of the knob revealed the door to be unlocked, and Ysocla had a pretty good idea who would be waiting on the other side. Looking back showed her only the tunnel she had come from and her brother’s mischievous grin. She elected to enter the house.

The temperature and intensity of the burning smell was much greater inside. Looking around Ysocla noted that the mysterious force that was creating this environment had done a good job recreating her home. The main entrance opened to the living room, with the kitchen off to the left, more a fire pit and pantry than a fully-stocked food-prep area. Along the wall she could see the closet she had been locked inside many times as well as the doorway to the multiple bedrooms. Scattered around were several lamps providing dim illumination and various mementos and trophies, among which were a number of carvings on the wall of Ysocla and her relatives. Unlike the real deal, each of these carvings had scorch marks where any face other than Ysocla’s would have been. The living room had a three person sofa and two recliners arranged around a small table, and it was in one of these recliners that her brother was sitting, resting his feet upon the table’s surface. Leaning back on the sofa were her parents, both with large toothy smiles.

Hey Yso. Long time no see.

We’ve missed you so much.

Dad. Mom,” Ysocla replied. “Got so impatient waiting for me to sleep that you decided to come haunt me during the day as well?

Now now, there’s no need to have an attitude. Have a seat so we can catch up.

Ysocla was immediately regretting coming in, but a glance behind her revealed that the front door had vanished, leaving a blank wall in its place. She slowly made her way over to the remaining recliner, checking its solidity before sitting down in it. Despite being sure it would support her she found herself falling through it onto the floor.

Ignoring the round of laughter that filled the room, Ysocla took another scan of her surroundings. No windows existed inside the house, and the door she had entered through had vanished as well. She was once again trapped with the people she hated most. Her frustration with the situation was dispelled momentarily by the appearance of one particular carving resting on a nearby end table. One half of it depicted Ysocla with a genuine smile on her face, the last time she could remember that happening. The other half had been broken off, now nothing more than crumbled rubble resting next to its other half, but Ysocla knew all too well who was depicted in it. She could hear her father begin some sort of spiel about the futility of her chosen path, but she was too distracted by the carving to listen.

***

Ysocla is just a skaklet, visiting the village blacksmith with her mother. She’s there to pick her very first weapon. Along the walls of the shop are a variety of deadly implements of differing materials and makes. Her parents direct her towards a variety of heavy clubs, their weapons of choice. Instead, she finds herself gravitating towards a sword hanging in a somewhat neglected area of the shop. She picks it up and tests the weight, a small cloud of dust blowing away as the blade is moved for the first time since its display. While swords are frequently used weapons in skakdi society, most stories passed down do not feature them in the best light. Many of the tales Ysocla’s parents tell her feature heroic warlords wielding swords gaining power and standing by uniting the masses, often by performing valiant deeds or by sheer charisma. At the apex of their power, these good-inclined individuals are defeated swiftly, either by the arrival of one more powerful than they, or by being betrayed by a close ally. Whether it’s stories of skakdi or the people that lived on the island before them, the message is always the same: look out for only yourself, and don’t be distracted by the appeal of heroics. Only by being selfish can you be successful. Ysocla takes these stories to heart by ignoring the endings. Surely there must be a way to succeed with your principles intact. Her parents often attempt to smack some sense into her to no avail.

***

A few years pass. Her brother has been born, though he is far too young to engage in any physical activity. Ysocla herself is sparring with her father outside their home, wielding her sword against his club. Attempts to contest her strength against the older skakdi prove fruitless, so she resorts to dodging until an opportunity presents itself. A quick duck under a horizontal swing allows the azure skakdi to slice into one of her opponent’s legs. He is forced to his knee as blood flows from the cut. Feeling that the spar has been won, Ysocla turns back to celebrate. A club to the face shatters her feeling of triumph, as well as several of her teeth. Tears flow from her eyes and blood fills her mouth as she rolls back and forth on the ground. Her father insists that she stop crying, that her teeth will grow back and that she needs to not strike without hesitation, to not stop until she is sure she has won. Ysocla is too busy dealing with the agony she is currently experiencing to respond.

***

More years pass. Her teeth broken baby teeth have been replaced by adult teeth, though the memory of the pain still lingers. Ysocla’s father leads her to a cage he has set up outside the house. Inside is a kavinika that begins barking loudly as they approach. It attempts to claw them but is unable to reach through the cage. While Ysocla is observing the canine, her father grabs her from behind and opens the cage door, tossing her inside before locking it. He informs her that he expects either her or the kavinika to be dead come morning, and goes back inside to eat dinner. The sound of growling causes her to turn around, and she looks at the canine more closely. While still in shape, it has clearly not been fed in some time, and it regards her with a predatory glint in its eyes. They grapple with each other, Ysocla trying her best not to hurt the creature, knowing that it only attacks out of desperate hunger. The fight continues all through the night until both are too exhausted to stand. By the time her father emerges from the house in the morning, the two combatants have reached something of an understanding. While disappointed that both are still alive, he does release Ysocla from the cage and hands her a plate of food. Her father hefts his club and moves towards the starving kavinika, but Ysocla stops him and insists that she’ll take care of the creature. He shrugs and returns to the house, leaving her and the canine alone once more. She offers some food to the creature who eventually accepts, and she decides to name him Tika, after a particularly just hero from a folk story. He was eventually slain by a rival tribe to show them that their way of life was futile, but she didn’t feel like mentioning that to the canine.

***

Still more years pass. Ysocla and Tika are a nearly inseparable duo, traveling everywhere together. Her brother has become older and is now partaking in some of the rites of passages she did long ago. He fares far better due to embracing the selfish ways of the skakdi. Meanwhile, skakdi and kavinika are embarking on regular hunting trips out into the wilderness, giving both a chance to avoid home. One day, her parents send her to town to fetch more lamp oil for the house. They insist that she leave Tika behind as the townsfolk won’t respond well to a wolf in their borders. She agrees and leaves to complete the errand, which is finished without incident. After entering the home and setting down the flammable supplies, she is greeted by her relatives and Tika all assembled in the living room. Tika has been muzzled and is attached to the ground by a chain.

Yso, we’ve given you a fair bit of independence over the years, hoping you’d find your path in life,” her father begins. “But time and time again you’ve shown us that you can’t seem to figure things out for yourself.” He gestures to her brother, who is hefting a club over Tika’s head. Realization starts to set in. Her father continues, “Now your brother here who actually gets it is going to help us teach you the most important lesson you can learn: you can’t go relying on others.

She reaches out in futility to stop what’s coming. The club comes down, and Tika is gone.

***

Every event in your life ends in pain, Ysocla,” her mother explained. “Surely you must realize that continuing on this way isn’t going to change anything.

Ysocla looked around, finding herself back in the present. She was standing again, her parents and brother in front of her in the same formation they were back then. Her brother stepped forward, putting his arms on her shoulders.

Sis, you’re just one person,” he said. “You have to wake up now, listen to your family. We just want what’s best for you.

She gazed into his eyes, examining his expression. There was some sincerity there, a real pleading. In some ways her relatives had a point. Trying to make the world a just place had cost her the family she loved and the use of her leg with no real improvement to show for it. Perhaps a more selfish path would lead to greater success.

A moment passed as the two siblings stared at each other before she plunged her blade into his chest. As the familiar expression of shock showed on his face she pulled him closer and said the same words to him that she had back then.

My family is dead, slain by your hand.

She kicked him back, letting his body slide off her blade and crumple to the floor. A roar of rage came from her parents, who stepped forwards to fight, but a single slash cut them both down. She stepped over the bodies and the rapidly growing pool of blood and removed one of the lanterns from the wall. A faint gurgle came from behind her, and she turned to look down at her dying relatives.

Foolish... girl...” her mother murmured. “Never... succeed...

Ysocla smashed the lantern on the floor, the fire rapidly spreading around the room and igniting her parents and sibling.

I’d rather die trying to make things better than live in this awful world.

As the smell of smoke and burning flesh filled the room, Ysocla realized that unlike in the past, this house didn’t have any exits. She attempted to break through the walls without much success as it became harder to breath. In desperation she used her x-ray vision once more. Much to her surprise the path forward was revealed through the walls and smoke. She focused on that area, willing herself to be there, and felt her body entering an electrified state.

A crack of thunder rang out through the tunnel as the bolt of lightning that was Ysocla coalesced back into her skakdi form. She tripped on the rough terrain as she reformed and fell to the ground, sword and cane sheath clattering along the ground away from her grasp as she rolled to a stop. The azure skakdi pulled herself to her knees, looking around the tunnel. The smoke and burning smell was no longer present, and her weapon and cane were easily visible. She had escaped the vision this tunnel had trapped her in. Pulling herself over to her equipment, she noticed that her sword was wet with blood. The vo-skakdi stared at it for a moment before flicking the blood off the blade. She pulled herself to her feet and continued onward, hoping to run into the others soon.

OOC: @EmperorWhenua@Tarn@Vezok's Friend You might hear a crack of thunder in the tunnel behind you.

IC Kilo-M9 - Ruins of Earth:

As Kat regarded the strange writing on the wall, the machine pondered a different set of writing.

Administrator, the ruins of stone featured writing in an unknown language on the walls in the initial chamber,” the robot said. “Why did these ruins not feature similar writing?”

OOC: @Eyru@Tarn@Onaku@The UltimoScorp

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I'm around. If you really need me and I haven't responded quickly, send me a pm.

BZPRPG 2021 Profiles Six Kingdoms Profiles: Kilo-M9 NUVA, Ysocla Naenoic

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IC: Knichou, Kini-Koro

While Knichou looked on the village he had helped create, he noticed a Toa that stood out from the hustle and bustle of matoran and other species walking around the streets. She stuck out precisely because of how instead of being focused on going somewhere to do something, like everyone else on the street who was just going about their lives, this Toa appeared to be focused entirely on the ex-Ghost, slowly moving closer with a dropped jaw and locked gaze. Did he meet her before? Knichou scoured his brain, trying to prevent the embarrassment of forgetting a comrade's name. As she got closer, Knichou noticed the many silver tendrils extending from the Toa's cracked green armor. Was this... an adaptation of his nanite designs, or something else? Knichou would have remembered if he had met her before.

"Hello... Toa? Can I help you?"

Edited by BULiK
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IC: Reliable Narrator | Relic Fields

Niidak managed to knock the Miru off the statue's face with the end of her spear. As soon as the mask left the statue's face, she abruptly stopped floating. Both she and the Miru fell to the ground.

 

OOC: @Daniel the Finlander Niidak is no longer levitating uncontrollably.

 

IC: Reliable Narrator | Ruins of Earth

"Toa Onua died serving his people," the Administrator said after a long pause. "Truly, he is the model of a proper Toa.

"As for the inscriptions," it continued, turning its attention to Kilo. "Surely you didn't expect all temples to be identical? As the style of worship changes, so too do the shapes of the sacred spaces. I wouldn't expect an artificial construct like yourself to understand."

 

OOC: @pokemonlover360 @Tarn @Onaku @The UltimoScorp

 

IC: Taja | Kini-Koro

"Look, he's coming back now," said Taja. "Let's go talk to him."

Before Whisper could object, the toa of shadow approached Stannis, lifting a hand in greeting. "Toa Stannis. A word, if you have a moment?"

 

OOC: @Nato the Traveler @EmperorWhenua 

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IC Katrin of the Flame - Earth Ruins:

The monk of Fire managed to pull herself away from the carvings in time to hear the Administrator's response to Jutori. "Died servin' his people.... wonder what it was that killed him then...?"

She shook her head, and looked to the others, "Well, now what? We're supposed to earn new powers, right? How do we do it?"

@Onaku@Tarn@pokemonlover360

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IC: Taja | Kini-Koro

Taja paused to organize her thoughts before she spoke. Ever the academic, she hated speaking faster than she could think. That was how meanings got muddled. That was how people made mistakes.

"I know you don't trust Aspects," she said. "I don't know why, but it's probably for good reason. I've met a few, and trustworthy isn't the first adjective the springs to mind."

She looked at Whisper. "But... if there's any Aspect who deserves the title, it's Whisper. I'll admit our first meeting wasn't particularly pleasant, but I've come to trust her. She's helped our village in a lot of ways, and asked little in return. If she needs something, I believe it's for good reason. So if you know anything about this Codex, or even anything that might point us in the right direction, we'd appreciate it."

 

OOC: @EmperorWhenua @Nato the Traveler

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IC: Whisper - Kini-Koro

Taja's abrupt outburst caught Whisper entirely off-guard, her internal gasses writing in surprise within her shell. She'd been content to play Stannis' game and wait her turn, even if her nature as an Aspect automatically put her at the back of the queue. She hadn't expected Taja to come rushing forward to advocate on her behalf. She hadn't expected that from anyone in the village. 

Her existence was predicated on bargains and exchanges. She'd shared her power, and in return they tolerated her continued presence. No one here was under any obligation to speak on her behalf. But still they chose to... and that was something she was still struggling to understand. 

 

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IC: Viltia - Toa of the Green

Location - Kini-Nui

With - Knichou, Stannis, Atamai, Taja, Whisper

 

"Hello... Toa? Can I help you?" the mask bearer spoke.

Viltia’s mouth moved as it tried to form words, but her awe kept her speechless for a few seconds. She only knew the mask bearer spoke, not the words he or his companion had said nor the weird tentacle thing and another Toa joining the group. The mask was just so glorious.

She finally found her voice, “I- Uh, yeah. Did- Did you make the mask you’re wearing? It’s… the most finely crafted Kanohi I’ve ever seen. It’s… it’s perfect.

 

OOC: @BULiK @EmperorWhenua @~Xemnas~ @Eyru @Nato the Traveler

Edited by Kal the Guardian
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-----------------------------

--------- “BRUH” -Makuta, probably ---------

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

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IC: Vulimai (Kini-Nui, Ampling Alp)

Vulimai listened to all Kanohi had to say, and weighed the value of all he had spoke. He was noble, truly. He did not bare the same calloused scars that war left. But he was also naïve. He didn't want the Vahki to be slaves no more, but Vulimai knew the truth. The only one the Vahki were slaves under were Dume at best, and at worst, they were the slave masters over the Matoran. But that didn't matter anymore, that was the past, and the past was dead.

What mattered was the now, and the future. What Kanohi was a deadly proposition, most likely put into his head by the Squad Mother that stood to his side. The Vahki were vital to Aurax' rule, that was true and evident when Vulimai asked Iradra what had occurred and at least attempted to interrogate Ostrox and Achro on the matter. One thing was made very evident by their testimonies, Aurax could have most certainly been overthrown if it wasn't for the Vahki. To remove the Vahki, would remove Aurax' control over the sinking city...

But...To fail...It could bring about war all over again. Vulimai wasn't sure if the remaining League forces would be willing to fight on Aurax' behalf, as she knew the Vahki weren't capable of extending beyond the reach of their hives. But even if they weren't, Aurax, from what Knichou spoke of him, would never let such a slight against him to go without some form of reprisal, one that Vulimai feared.

It was a complicated matter, a coin flip really. One side, victory, and the potential removal of a threat. The other, failure, if not Aurax' wrath, then at worst, someone from the League itself taking his place, someone who wasn't bound by Stannis' 'deal' and is foolishly willing to finish what Pridak had started.

Although Vulimai wanted to immediately answer with a resounding no, that Kini-Koro would not support such an action; she recognized that such an outright answer wouldn't simply lead to this discussion being dropped. No, it would only cause tensions between the leaders, as she doubted that NU would relent on the subject, and Kanohi, being the noble and naïve Matoran he was, would attempt to keep on pushing. No, she needed to give compromise a chance. She wasn't going to be like Dume, not like Sans, she wasn't going to be fools like them.

"Councilor Kanohi...Councilor NU...I recognize your concerns, but I cannot approve of this idea, yet. Though I agree, the Vahki should be removed from Aurax' control, I do not desire to draw the ire of the ruler of Metru-Nui like my predecessor before did...At least not without assurances on my charge's safety if this plan fails."

OOC: @Tarn @Harvali @Toru Nui

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IC Stannis | Kini-Koro

"Toa Taja," the Wanderer addressed her with equivalent diplomatic terseness as he shifted his attention away from Viltia and the two iron toa.

The old man was tired from the constant meetings at that point. While he realized his duties as a councilor and prophet often took him from war room to senate chamber many times over, and he complied with the rigorous demands of those social situations, it was not what he was built for. Stannis had become an embodiment of duality in almost all its varieties; he was a man of war who fought for peace, a man of god who defied deism, a man of Destiny who believed it's threads should be undone, a man of knowledge who rationed it, and a man who... was not a man at all, but the very sort of shade he seemed to fight against. Stannis was a being who defied logic, and all there remained was a deep Faith in knowledge alone.  

He studied Taja again, this time with the care of an archeologist brushing sediment of a skeleton. His pearl-white eyes looked over her winedark visage in an excited enthusiasm and they shone with a brightness as he admired the way her armor seemed to mettle with the sunlight that played with the ground at her feet but daren't to creep up her. She was a paragon of her kind, to be sure, But does she know that yet? Stannis wondered. Taja had taken the mantle of Shadow and made it her own, and her stance and bearing suggested she retained every bit of the heroics a toa was meant to embody. The Wizard was oddly proud of her in a way he could not properly express yet. 

"I already told Whisper I would speak again soon and share what I know in confidence, and she knows I will retain my bargain," he said, gesturing slightly to Whisper as he mentioned her. "While I appreciate your candor—and your spirit—I have to question: When you say you would appreciate my knowledge, do you mean you both... or you?" He pointed at Taja. 

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IC: Sidra The Far Shore

 

Le-Metru

Oh karz.

Lariska stood up at the edge of the beach near the Vahki transport, staring down at Sidra.

Oh karz.

Behind her stood a few more familiar faces. Avak, Reidak, and Vezok.

Oh karz.

Those three specific Skakdi… in Metru Nui… messing with something offshore… Sidra knew when she was. Or strongly suspected, at least. But this wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it had happened. From what she’d heard about this mission, there’d been no flooding, no theft of explosives, and Lariska sure as karz hadn’t been involved.

“Skirmisher? That is you, right?” Lariska made her way down the slope, one hand slipping to the handle of one of the daggers sheathed at her hip.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Sidra replaced the lid of the crate, sheepishly shuffling away from it like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“You’ve been busy. Where’d you get all of that gear?” Apparently satisfied that Sidra really was Sidra, Lariska stopped before her, her beady eyes taking in every new detail. “And what’s up with your eyes?”

“Just trying something new,” Sidra replied, wracking her brain for an explanation.

Fortunately, Lariska didn’t press her further. Instead she attacked on another front.  

“You didn’t answer my first question,” Lariska spoke the words like an accusation. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m… here on another mission,” Sidra replied hastily, “To… support your efforts. I decided to check in and see how things were going on your end once I was done.”

Lariska’s eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t informed of a support mission.”

“It was a last-minute decision. The Shadowed One wanted this off the table,” she pulled out her Great Disk of Ice, holding it out for Lariska to see. “We wouldn’t want some would-be hero finding this and ruining the plan, would we?”  

She hoped she was right about what this moment was.

She hoped she was wrong about it, too.

“A wise decision, and an excellent find,” Lariska chuckled, nodding approvingly. “Well, come on rahi bones, the boys and I were just having lunch before we set out to finish the job.”

She started to head back up the slope, and Sidra hurried after her.

None of this was right. In her world, it had just been the three Skakdi who’d gone out on this mission. Reidak and Vezok had spent hours diving down and beating on the ice with their fists like the unimaginative savages they were, while Avak heroically guarded the boat. Using explosives to trigger tsunamis and soften the city before the main event was a serious step up.

“Did you have a problem with your ordinance?” Sidra asked, gesturing back towards the boats.

“Someone…” Lariska glowered pointedly at Avak, “…forgot a zero when they were calculating how many pounds of explosive we’d need for the job. We had to get more.”

“When you said 100 feet of magical unmelting ice, I thought you were exaggerating,” Avak snapped.

“I don’t exaggerate.”

“Sounds about right,” Sidra said. “By the way, I heard on my way here that Dume had sent messengers out to fetch some Toa. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Of course not,” Lariska scoffed, “That’s why we brought Amphibax and Eliminator along, remember?”

“Oh. Of course,” Sidra grimaced.

The Dark Hunters of this world had really committed themselves to ensuring the success of this mission. If Dume’s messengers hadn’t gotten through, then there would be no Toa Mangai, no battle against the beast, no one to save the city or its ruler from what was about to happen. Sidra realised that today could very well be Metru Nui’s last day as a free city… unless she did something.

But why would she? In this time, in this moment, the Dark Hunters were her people, the closest thing she had to friends and family. Metru Nui was still a police state ruled by a despotic Turaga and his robot army. Why would she interfere? No Toa Mangai meant no Tuyet. No Dume meant no time machine. It would do the entire universe some good to let things take another path.

And yet… she’d spent time among Matoran in Le-Metru Nuva. And the refugees in Metru-Koro. They weren’t as bad as she’d once believed them to be. She’d seen time and tolerance, desperation and dependence, erode the veneer of superiority their species had clung to for so many centuries. They had the potential to change and improve, just as Sidra herself had. But they would never get the chance if they were slaughtered and enslaved by The Shadowed One.

“Sorry,” Sidra muttered.

“Sorry?” Lariska frowned at her. “What do you-”

Guided by Sidra’s telepathy, the Great Disk of Ice leapt from her grasp, striking Lariska in the chest. Creeping claws of ice coiled around the Dark Huntress from the impact site, pinning her limbs to her sides and smothering whatever else she was about to say. Bouncing like a pinball at Sidra’s command, the legendary Kanoka veered into Vezok, ricocheted into Reidak… then clattered to the ground as Sidra suddenly found herself trapped in a box of blinding light.

Karz!

Her concentration snapped like a taut rope.

She couldn’t see. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’t teleport.

Though her eyes were screwed tightly shut and even her psionic senses seemed to be scrambled by the perfect prison Avak had created, she still heard the Po-Skakdi cackling to himself as he scampered away, though she wasn’t sure if his mirth was at her expense, or that of his snap-frozen comrades. She soon heard one of the boats start up and speed away, and shortly after that the cube of light dissipated, as Avak drew too far away to continue maintaining it.

With flickers of light still dancing before her eyes, Sidra snatched up the fallen Great Disk and hurried down the beach towards the other boat. In his haste to escape, Avak hadn’t thought to sabotage or destroy the second boat, and within moments Sidra was speeding off towards the distant speck that was the fleeing Skakdi.

Behind her, the hateful eyes of the three frozen Dark Hunters glared daggers at her back as they struggled to free themselves from the ice.

* * *

The Archives

Dweller was bored.

He was an ambush predator, an adept warrior, an operative who had proven his worth time and time again in service of the Dark Hunters. But here, in the organisation’s most integral mission ever, he’d been left out of all the fun.

He trusted The Shadowed One. He understood the necessity and importance of his task, spying on the city and its citizens. But he still wanted to be where the action was, to stand with his comrades and see the self-proclaimed City of Legends razed and ruined in person, instead of being relegated to the sidelines.

It came as something of a relief when a notification from Avak appeared on his iStone, an open message to all those on the Dark Hunter network. Skirmisher is here. She betrayed us. Amphibax, intercept her boat. I’ll plant the explosives. Dweller, stand by the fireworks.

Dweller’s gaunt features broke into a smile.

It was almost time.

* * *

Silver Sea

Avak was slowing down.

Cracked chunks of ice and splinters of boat debris bobbed in the water ahead of him, just like what Sidra had seen on the beach earlier. This had to be the spot. Sidra maintained her speed, taking her right hand off the wheel to aim her rhotuka launcher. Energy spat and crackled as the sea spray struck the forming spinner, and she prepared to loose it the irritating brown speck that was growing ever closer.

And then a barbed cord whipped out of the water and tangled around her forearm, yanking her aim off course and tearing gashes in her gauntlet. The spinner leapt from her palm before she could direct it anywhere, spiralling into the sea and swiftly dissipating.

A silver-blue blur barrelled up out of the water, claws scything towards Sidra’s face as it descended, and she batted the beast aside with a hasty telekinetic blow.

Amphibax landed in the back of the boat, springing to his feet and lunging at her immediately. As he rushed towards her, he tugged on the whip still caught around Sidra’s arm, trying to pull her off balance.

Rather than trying to resist the pull, Sidra moved with it, throwing herself onto the floor of the boat, and right into Amphibax’s legs. His talons tore through empty air, and he stumbled over her prone form, falling against the controls of the still-speeding boat.

Sidra didn’t give him another chance to come at her. Still lying on the floor, she raised her free hand and unleased a blast of ice at Amphibax, freezing him to the console. Once she was satisfied he couldn’t escape, she got to her feet, disentangling her arm from his whip as she glanced past the aquatic Dark Hunter at what lay ahead.

“Sorry,” she smirked. “This is going to hurt.”

She activated her Kanohi, interfacing with the boat’s iced-over controls and adjusting course slightly as she jumped overboard, cushioning her fall with telekinesis to reduce her speed as she hit the choppy water. By the time she sputtered back to the surface, Amphibax was seconds away from meeting his maker.

Sidra’s boat struck Avak’s stationary vessel at top speed, the force of the impact igniting the explosives on board and annihilating both vessels in a blindingly bright conflagration. The shockwave knocked Sidra backwards in the water, waves buffeting her as she hastily swam towards one of the icebergs.

Clawing her way onto the grimy ice, Sidra sat there for few quiet moments, steadying her breaths as ash and charcoal drifted around her. She was struggling to process the enormity of what she’d just accomplished. She’d changed history, and no one would ever know it. But… there was no Makoki Stone, no portal home, no… No. No!

A large rectangle of wood bobbed to the surface before her. A crate, bearing the markings of Onu-Metru. An empty, intact crate.

A second crate in the same condition followed a few moments later.

Then Avak surfaced, grinning up at her.

There was a detonator in his hand.

 * * *

Below

A great gout of boiling bubbles, broken ice, and ancient seabed debris surged towards the surface as the great beast swam free for the first time in thousands of years.

It had only dim memories of its past, but what had gone before didn’t matter to it at the moment. The only thing the Kanohi Dragon cared about was that it was very, very hungry.

Sensing a tremendous source of heat on the island up ahead, it moved in that direction. Heat meant life, and life meant food, and today he would at last eat well.

 

OOC: Part 3 of 5 of Sidra's Far Shore Adventure. 

Edited by Nato the Traveler
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