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IC: Savrehn - Ko-Wahi - The Drifts (Cliffhanger)

So much for a clean getaway. As they approached the abyss Savrehn made noises that should have been words but came out as grunts resembling various known swears and other, less familiar noises that must have been new ones.

His gut had been telling him things would go sideways, but not this quickly and not this badly. He could see it now: the mystery of the three Matoran who ventured into the Drifts and never came back. Would people debate over what happened? Would they even care? Someone would surely write about how it had been the doing of some unknown entity, undiscovered by Matorankind—and with whatever that was back there, wings and all, that didn’t seem far from the truth.

Now, hang on to what he wondered, as he prepared for the inevitable conclusion of them falling to their dooms. He looked down at the ice axe still in his hand, tightened around the tool in a death grip. Then to the rope that linked the three Matoran. Savrehn took a deep breath as he realized what Kreigero meant.

Had a good run. If it ends here…sorry I didn’t keep my mouth shut back in Rhanus’s.

It was like slow motion as the makeshift sled reached the edge, and Savrehn twisted himself around and tried to lodge the sharp end of his ice axe into the ground. It caught snow instead of anything solid, and the Ko-Matoran was dragged by momentum for a few seconds (which felt far longer in his mind) until it just barely caught the edge of the abyss. The tug of their lifeline reminded Savrehn of his companions, and he looked over to see if they had made it as well.

The ice axe would not stay there for long. The mountaineer could feel it beginning to slip, pulled by the weight of him and the other two Matoran.

OOC: @BULiK@~Xemnas~

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IC:

"Course I can." Skri answered, walking over to the slab in question. She'd already absorbed the remnants of the plants by the entrance, enough to restore just a little energy, and now she considered the ones before her. There was no doubt that they had been grown to support this piece of stone, which was a little concerning seeing as the man whose hideout this had been was not a Toa of Plant-Life. "But I think I'd better play it safe. These things didn't get here naturally. So, shortstuff..."

She took Plagia by the shoulders, and guided the Toa in front of her. And then she dropped down to a knee so she was fully behind her silhouette. 

"If something goes 'click', or anything like that, have that Hau between us and it." What she proposed to do was less direct, but much safer, than simply grabbing it and hoisting. Which she would have rather done because her element was in short supply here. But if wishes were fishes... Slowly, deliberately, she worked with what someone before her had put in place; she steadily absorbed the plant material on one side of the slab and used the energy to make the other side grow so that it rose above the ground while the other descended. 

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Kreigero [Ko-Wahi, The Drifts, Ice Shelf Crevasse]

Kreigero breathed a shaky sigh of relief, adrenaline still surging, as the sled skidded to a halt, kicking up snow everywhere in what was already a horrific storm. Completely exposed to the elements, it felt just as cold as when the otherworldly rahi swooped in to fight the Muaka. Wind chill was a dark mistress.

The sled had rotated wildly when Savrehn's quick thinking lead to a makeshift anchor - if Kreigero hadn't been holding on to one of his arms, she might have been flung off into a tumble down the chasm from the centripetal force alone. Now the huntress was the matoran closest to the pit, where she got a spookily wide view of it's unending maw.

The sled was still slipping. Kreigero froze as still as mount ihu itself in apprehension.

Teetering. Only moments to think.

She glanced at Savrehn, locking optics with the crusty old Ko-Matoran. It was a glare, but not of malice, regret, or even sadness. It was merely firm, with the only emotion on display being the emotionless severity of the situation, a mutually understandable acknowledgement that the situation they were in merely was what it was. There was no indication that they had any right to be sad that this was how Ihu took them. This was the risk they knew, and to be a true alpinist required the coolness under pressure that shone through the tinted visor of Kreigero's kaukau in that everlastingly brief moment the two Ko-Matoran loners shared.

Her steely expression was of a woman focused on the situation. One who saw reality with the detached clarity necessary to make the right decisions even in the worst of situations.

Kreigergo inhaled sharply, turned, and jumped off the sled, pushing it slightly back up in the process to buy a few precious moments for Atamai and Savrehn. Both her arms were outstretched forwards, hands squeezed tightly around the grip of her ice pick. It slammed into the ice wall on the other side of the crevasse, with the several bio of rope connecting her to Atamai and then Savrehn stretching across the chasm between them.

Without her weight on the shield, it might not slip.

If it slipped anyways and they dragged each other down into the pit, Kreigero would die knowing she made the best choice in the moment. For now, she just had...

to...

hang...

on...

The icy wall on the opposing end of the chasm audibly crackled, with the spider web of cracks around Kreigero's ice pick growing slightly. She looked up. No handholds, and even if so, it was a long climb to reach level ground several dozen bio above.

Kreigero decided not to look down again.

On 10/9/2021 at 4:29 AM, ARROW404 said:

IC: Priicu - Wise Man's Archive

He stroked the chin of his Ruru pensively. "It depends on what sort of records you are looking for. Political decisions can take multiple months sometimes, depending on how sensitive they are. We receive weekly deliveries though, so the latest would be... four days old."

IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive]

The Cy-Toa nodded to the matoran. He perused the selection of records, pulling several volumes off of the shelves before taking a seat at a nearby table. For a few hours, he sat quietly, flipping through books and unrolling scrolls. Occasionally he'd form a clear crystal sheet over a page, duplicating it by turning some of the glass into a darkened obsidian over the top of the original's markings. A crude elemental photocopier, but effective and cheap.

The undercover detective started, naturally, with lists of the Akiri's new proclamations and directives. No matter what, he had to get a feel for all aspects of Tarkhan's administration. It was possible to obscure criminality, but exceedingly difficult to truly mask it. The guardsman was betting that some oddities would lead him to any murky truths he could hone in on.

Most of it was stuff Vrill already knew about - the widely publicized re-investment plan, and some trade deals that looked normal enough to someone who wasn't an accountant or a lawyer. Vrill's expression soured as he once again read the announcement of the compulsory military service that he and many other veteran sanctum guardsmen had gripes with. Similarly, the Toa Kalta being Ko-Koro's official Toa team was worthy of a roll of the optics. Vrill almost moved on, but in the corner of his vision, he glimpsed a remarkable footnote.

Skorm, one of the group, had been on the run from the law in multiple other Koro... and they knew this when the Kalta let him join, and when Ko-Koro's Onu-Koronan Akiri appointed them to be the city's new apex protectors. The mention was light - obviously those reporting on it didn't want to draw more attention to it than necessary. Vrill found reports asking for official pardons, something mentioning an incident with antidermis, Stannis Maru, and Po-Koro.

Hmmm...

The Cy-Toa made copies of anything he could find on the Toa Kalta, which, somewhat suspiciously, wasn't all too much. Apparently they hadn't been active all too long, and that raised more questions than it answered for the detective.

He walked back to the matoran at the front desk, reaching into a crystalline pocket in his armor and pulling out several widgets.

"How much is the fee?"

Edited by BULiK
minor typos
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6 hours ago, BULiK said:

"How much is the fee?"

IC: Priicu - Wise Man's Archive

The establishment's owner had returned to the front desk during the Toa's search and busied himself with whatever he could find to occupy him. He turned from his task as the Toa returned. "A day's access to the Archive is 10 widgets. But if you plan on coming back regularly, you can buy a monthly library card for 60," he answered, patting a neat pile of said cards. He glanced curiously at the collection of crystal copies the Toa had made, another idea for the archive floating in his mind. "I don't suppose you would be looking for a job..."

OoC: By the way, obsidian isn't a crystal, it's glass. You could use smoky quartz instead.

Edited by ARROW404
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On 10/18/2021 at 1:59 PM, Daniel the Finlander said:

IC: Sir Dahkapa (Ko-Koro Gates)

While he was presenting all the items in his possession, starting from his weapons, he talked about his 'intended business'. "First and foremost, I intend to see my home again. It has been a while, and I simply wish to walk around and witness what has changed. More specifically, I want to visit the library. I used to spend a lot of time there before the Koro fell. Then, I... desire to meet an old friend of mine."

His voice cracked slightly at the end, and he coughed. "Excuse me."

:i::c:

“Nothin’ to worry about,” Taro patted Dahkapa on the shoulder, stepping in front of the Pakari wearing guard and cutting her off from asking a follow up question about the old friend. “We've got all we need to know. Enjoy the new ice carvings.” 

He nodded, and the brand new gates slid open on runners of polished ice, opening the path for Dahkapa to renter the newly rebuilt main street of the village. 

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22 hours ago, ARROW404 said:

IC: Priicu - Wise Man's Archive

The establishment's owner had returned to the front desk during the Toa's search and busied himself with whatever he could find to occupy him. He turned from his task as the Toa returned. "A day's access to the Archive is 10 widgets. But if you plan on coming back regularly, you can buy a monthly library card for 60," he answered, patting a neat pile of said cards. He glanced curiously at the collection of crystal copies the Toa had made, another idea for the archive floating in his mind. "I don't suppose you would be looking for a job..."

OoC: By the way, obsidian isn't a crystal, it's glass. You could use smoky quartz instead.

OOC: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bonkle magic

IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive]

Vrill paused sorting his widgets and looked at the Wise Man™ with a quizzical expression - it was clear he hadn't been expecting a proposal. In fact, he was almost amused by the idea.

"A job?"

Edited by BULiK
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21 minutes ago, BULiK said:

"A job?"

IC: Priicu

Busy as the Toa seemed, he hadn't expected him to show any interest. He straightened up subconsciously, encouraged by this response. "Copying documents and books is meticulous work, requiring one to always keep going back and forth from the original text to the new one. Your use of your crystal powers could drastically reduce the effort involved. I see a business opportunity as Ko-Koro's- if not the island's- first copyists." His delivery was as neutral as was to be expected of a Ko-Koronan, but his eyes twinkled at the thought.

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IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive]

The Cy-Toa raised an eyebrow. He was merely humoring himself with the idea of taking on more work, but the nature of it intrigued him slightly. To copy documents meant to read them, have total access. Even change them, if needed. That kind of responsibility, in his hands, could be a great boon to further investigations.

In fact... it would give him an excellent alibi. A freelance scribe wasn't the most inconspicuous of personas, but as a matter of fact, what Priicu had proposed was the exact same occupation as the lie Vrill had concocted for his disguised self before entering the establishment. He had the idea of such work locked and loaded in case the librarian got nosy, but this was an opportunity to make it a real fake job, and maybe that was a tool he could use later.

"I already do that - just more freelance and less systematic. That's why I'm here, after all," the undercover guardsman lied. He neatly placed sixty widgets on the counter. "Are you talking about something... larger than my private clients? What makes this different?"

Edited by BULiK

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9 hours ago, BULiK said:

"I already do that - just more freelance and less systematic. That's why I'm here, after all," the undercover guardsman lied. He neatly placed sixty widgets on the counter. "Are you talking about something... larger than my private clients? What makes this different?"

IC: Priicu - Wise Man's Archive

His heart dropped a little upon realizing his offer was not the Toa's first experience doing this as a job. It wasn't as original idea as he thought- but on a larger scale, it would be in high demand. Nevertheless, he nodded in response to his question. "Of course. The Archive is Ko-Koro's leading public library. The center of knowledge aside from the Sanctum. We exchange books often with other Koros. This business would find rapid use in copying the most popular or important books." He touched a hand to the chin of his mask pensively. "No... No, this could revolutionize information itself. Mass-produced books... The Akiri could get involved... Nuparu would also take interest if he heard of it."

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IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive]

"Business for the Akiri would step things up a notch. Consider me in."

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On 10/20/2021 at 4:20 PM, Goose said:

IC: Ronan (Dark Walk)

Ronan looked at the slab with visible apprehension, a rare break from her stoic demeanor.

"L.T.? Have you actually heard from your source since they went in here?"

OOC: @Leaf

IC: The Lieutenant, the Dark Walk

"The Ahka and the Commander both met with him," the Ko-Toa says quietly, watching Skrihen and Plagia's progress with an even, dull expression. "Around the storm and Ko's liberation. I'm afraid I don't know him myself. Alka Torin, 2."

A thin line of ice spread from his foot toward the slab, stopping once under it and doing nothing more once there. Contrary to Skrihen's expectation, the slab didn't tilt--rather it groaned and went straight upward, the enormous weight straining the tree even as the featureless black surface ascended. Slowly. 

The shimmering light of the group's lightstones stretched bit by bit into the blackness of the room beyond as it did. The earthen walls stretched forward and curved to the left, vanishing into the darkness. Lightstone sconces were on the walls, their held prizes long gone. A table covered in shards of broken metal ran along the exterior edge of the curve, though from this distance _what_ exactly they were was impossible to discern--their shadows bit into the light on the wall behind them.

The grumble of stone stopped, and there was a click as iron ribs sprung out to support it--even as iron and stone spines launched from the sides of where the slab had rested, angled for the Vo-Toa's face and center mass. 

Plagia flinched backwards as the air before her flashed briefly with energy -- a judicious application of her Hau to protect her from the spines while she retreated to a safer distance.

"Keep back!" she said, drawing an inch of her sword from its sheath. "Don't know what else might be rigged."

Plagia's shout didn't echo--the muffled silence wormed its way back into the ears of the group as the darkness encroached again.

And as their eyes strained into the shadow, they fell on rusty brown stains on the stone floor, leading into the black.

No such thing as destiny.

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OOC: Short jam with @Leaf

IC: Ronan (Dark Walk)

"Ronan, Fe-Toa. Three." She took a step forward, and reached out mentally - she could see the source of the spikes, along a rail either side of the slab, but she was curious as to whether there were other triggers or connections, or more spikes still loaded.

More flechette was loaded in a gearing mechanism, ready to rearmed if the gears turned back past a certain point, but for the moment inert. The gears themselves seemed to be rigged and weighted to be spun by elemental control, nothing so inelegant as Skri's wedge--rather, a stone and iron duo of gears were present, either capable of whirring to lift the gate up with the proper control.

There was another connector on the gears, meant to trigger if the chains went fully the other direction.

"Hm." The significance of the second connector was beyond Ronan, but - caution being key - she used her powers to wedge the gears in place, before reaching past the door to see if she could pick up on any other immediately relevant traps.

Nothing sprung out at her.

"We're clear for now. Good work with the Hau." She didn't look at the two Toa closest to the slab as she spoke, instead keeping her eyes trained on the substance on the floor as she began to walk towards it. Once she was close enough, she crouched down, and held her hand above it, not quite touching - important, surrounded by all these traps, to check that it truly was what it looked like.

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On 10/23/2021 at 8:48 PM, BULiK said:

IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive]

"Business for the Akiri would step things up a notch. Consider me in."

IC: Priicu - Wise Man's Archive

He gave a slight smile that equated to Ko-Koro's equivalent of an ear-to-ear grin. This seemed to be a man of ambition as well. "Excellent." He held out a hand. "Priicu, by the way. Is there a way I can contact you? A place I can leave you a message or come find you? This plan will take some setting up. I will hire an additional scribe. You can get to work right now in the meantime, or wait until I have found one- tomorrow afternoon at the latest."

Edited by ARROW404

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IC: Dartakh (The Dark Walk)

A roll call was probably a good idea to make sure no one had disappeared into the dark. Not that he had personally kept track of all the members of the group, as he only cared for his own survival and his paycheck. The rest was for the Lieutenant to worry about.

"Dartakh, four," he said loudly, albeit with a dry throat. He realized he had barely spoken since entering the tunnel, so hearing his own voice in there was strange. Despite trying to be loud, it sounded muffled and quiet. It was as if the air around him was trying to silence him.

The desire to leave the place as soon as possible kept growing stronger.

IC: Sir Dahkapa (Ko-Koro Gates)

He smiled gratefully as the gate opened. "I will come back to meet with the Le-Toa. Farewell until then, friend."

After re-equipping all of his items, he finally entered the Koro. In some ways, it looked the same as ever, but in many other ways it was unrecognizable. Some buildings had been rebuilt from scratch, others extensively renovated. Construction was still in progress as he saw Matoran and Toa busy at work. The town felt lively, in stark contrast to the last time he was here. Fear had been replaced with defiance, and devastation had been replaced with creation. The spirit of Mata Nui was strong here now.

It was disgusting.

But anything was better than the reign of Makuta's followers who sought nothing but destruction. In a way, the Koro was undergoing the cycle of death and rebirth-- so perhaps, in a way, it was a sign of Ak'rei'an's power, not Mata Nui. Either way, his home was safe for now, so there was nothing to worry about. He'd nevertheless remain vigilant to prevent history from repeating itself. Makuta's influence might still linger somewhere in the Koro, hidden in plain sight.

His mind stopped wandering when he arrived at his destination. An unremarkable alleyway next to an all too familiar building. He walked to an unmarked grave and knelt down in front of it.

"Hello, Jaatava," he whispered. "I will find a way to bring you back, once I unveil the secrets of life and death. I promise."

Edited by Daniel the Finlander

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IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive]

"Syzygos."

Vrill firmly completed the handshake with a nod. 

"I roam from Koro to Koro - comes with the job. Best place to find me is by me finding you."

His head turned towards the stack of glass copies tucked under one arm.

"I've got to return to Po-Koro soon to finish this job, but once I'm back in Ko, I'll come here and we can figure out the details. I'll see you then."

The Cy-Toa began to leave, but stopped, remembering something. He turned back to Priicu.

"Oh right - my card?"

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3 hours ago, BULiK said:

"Oh right - my card?"

IC: Priicu

He threw his hands up in surprise and turned to the card. "Yes, yes of course, how forgetful of me." He deftly slipped one off of the top of the pile. "Sign on this line here," he said, flipping it over. He pulled out a clipboard and marked down the date of the purchase of the card. "Our first order of business when you return will be making crystal sheets of the island's most popular book. Chronicler Takua's- well, Turaga Vakama's- the Legend of the Bionicle. Publicity. I will arrange for things until you return."

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IC: Vrill [Ko-Koro, Historical District, Wise Man's Archive]

Vrill snatched the card with a free hand, nodded, and strolled out of the library.

"Legend of the Bionicle," huh? Tacky.

Vrill soon left the Koro without incident. While he had lied about why he needed to go to Po-Koro, that was truly his destination. Korzaa gave the detective the authority to take his investigation where he deemed fit, and he wanted to learn more about the Toa Kalta and Skorm's criminal past before he started collecting more evidence in Ko-Koro. The best place to learn the details of the reports on Skorm was to go to where that incident took place. Vrill also knew he had some favors to pull in the city of stone that might make that search go even smoother.

The undercover guardsman would be lying if he said that he truly trusted anyone... but there were some that he distrusted much less than others.

The snowy path lead Vrill to the entrance to Onu-Koro's underground highway. He shifted the composition of the crystal layers on the outside of his armor and kanohi from obsidian to his natural blue-green seafoam hue. On his shoulders and back, patches of heatstone grew to more quickly melt the snow off of and subsequently dry his rugged, slate grey cloak. Lightstone grew on his chest above his heartlight, illuminating the road ahead in places where the highway's own lamps were lacking.

OOC: Vrill to Onu-Wahi

Edited by BULiK

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IC: Charek (Dark Walk)

"Charek.  Six."

Charek kept his eyes trained on the entrance to the room.  The path ahead might be dangerous, but so too was the path they'd already traveled- and his paranoia was still getting stronger.

OOC: @ dark walk crew

 

IC: Joskander (Obsidian Outpost)

Man.  Tough crowd.  I'm really not cut out for this investigative business, am I?

"Come to think of it, what did happen with Gak, anyways?  How does he enter the picture?"

OOC@Geardirector

It is not for us to decide the fate of angels.

Dominus Temporis, if you're out there, hit me up through one of my contacts.  I've been hoping to get back in touch for a long time now.  (Don't worry, I'm not gonna beg you to bring back MLWTB or something.  :P )

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IC Tarkahn - Akiri's Office:

He nodded slowly, taking in the words of all of those in the chamber. A less astute man might have wanted a chorus, but Tarkahn knew that innovation thrived when there was competition. He noticed the discomfort of his Guard captain, and let the lid fall completely over the heatstone on his desk.

"I understand your concerns regarding their mental abilities, however, for the time being, I do not share them. These are refugees, after all. It would hardly behoove them to start causing trouble to the people taking in their civilization. I agree with you, Korzaa. They should be welcomed here. And any who wish to reside permanently should be allowed to do so, under the same expectations as any citizen of Ko-Koro."

He paused for a moment, then added, "Although with cultures coming together like this, perhaps some expectations and rules will need to be changed..." He shook his head.  "Thoughts for later. On to more pressing matters. The rahkshi. I suspect the cultists of Makuta are behind the attacks somehow. But we need some kind of solution. How can we stop the attacks once and for all? I can hardly call on the other Koros for this, as I'm sure they are all dealing with similar situations."

He rubbed his temples, "If Nuparu would just allow us access to those schematics, we could mount a better offense against the things."

@Keeper of Kraata@Visaru@Haman Karn: A Magical Girl

Edited by The UltimoScorp
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IC: Safina - Ko-Wahi Dark Walk

"Charek.  Six."

Safina shifted in her suit’s harness, keeping the light trained on the cave’s depths beyond the side passage, her eyes never leaving the darkness as she strained her ears, trying to listen in to the muffled sounds from the concealed hideout.

“What’s that? What’s going on in there? I can’t hear anything.”

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:i::c: Ko-Koro Guard Recruits (The Dark Walk)

One by one, the Matoran recruits sounded off, until the Ta-Matoran, loudest of them all, announced "Rall, Nineteen." They were grouped in a circle in the middle of the passage outside the hideout, their Kanohi trained on the shadowy depths around them, their spears at the ready.  

Edited by Visaru

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IC:

"Twenty," The Toa of Plant-Life said absently, unfazed by how nearly she had come to being skewered save for a few feet of absentmindedly placed teetotaler. This guy had been more sadistic and more paranoid than she ever would have guessed— but she had served under Madrihk in his prime, and the man couldn't be beat for paranoid. The ILF gave her a simple philosophy. Plan for exactly the worst thing that could happen for every moment and you won't be surprised often. It was good to see some things held true. Assume everything here was boobytrapped and plan accordingly. "LT, I've got a question. Any idea why that slab was being supported by little conifers? Our bad guy was a Toa of Iron, right?"

She didn't explicitly draw attention to the issue; he'd catch on and if he didn't she could explain. But it was standing out in her mind how strange it was that the boobytrap hadn't been triggered, but the entrance was held up by purposefully grown plants. It was possible those stains back there had been from when their informant got skewered but that'd raise its own questions. Skri's self preservation instinct was tingling. Details weren't adding up. The staff on her back slid easily out of its loop and she allowed its length to slip through her fingers until her grip tightened halfway down. It was time to take some precautions.

"Rall! You and the newbies, inside now. Form up, watch the door. Anything tries to come through it's gonna be the best choke point your stubby little arms can ask for." The same type of glowing vine she had planted at the entrance grew again on the floor at her feet, continuing until it reached a respectable body's length. Then she kicked it aside towards the other members of the group. "Anybody who doesn't have a light, cut a foot off that. Better than nothing."

Now, though, the important bit.

Unseen in the dim light the flowers on the plants still wrapped around her shoulders released their pollen; the densest, heaviest load of the allergen came from the same variety she had intentionally grown and in the daylight it would almost have resembled a hazy cloud. Here in the Darkwalk it wasn't even noticeable to the naked eye. But it wasn't her eyes that could detect it and she directed the cloud down into the opening below the slab. It would hit, and stick, to anything in there that her eyes might not necessarily detect.

Things like assassins, waiting for their victims, or murderous insects waiting for the same.

________________________________________________

Skorm's instincts were good but ultimately unnecessary. The lightstone hit the ground, the sound suddenly sharp in the blanketing silence, rocked slightly in place and became still. The light revealed nothing bit the sides of the tunnel unnaturally smooth and rounded. It clearly wasn't a natural formation, but equally clearly it was not the wide, army-permitting breadth of the Darkwalk proper. Nor did the light reveal any sign of who— or what— had abducted him. Only the darkness that swallowed the light and beckoned ever deeper if the Toa Kalta wished to see the sun again.

But that too, it whispered comfortingly, was a choice. He could just as easily remain in darkness.

@Keeper of Kraata @Visaru

 

Edited by Krayzikk
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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Zueya - Dark Walk

The Vo-Toa frowned slightly.  Some thing was wrong; her instincts were warning her, and they were generally right when a situation was off. Skorm's mask didn't betray anything, but he didn't look distracted. He should have sounded off with her, or as close to her as possible. And he hadn't reacted when she had been friendly with him earlier... She hadn't said anything then, had thought that maybe it was nerves, or Skorm trying to put up a show.

She distanced herself from the Ba-Toa slightly, getting some more room to maneuver in case anything happened. She adjusted her staff a bit to better fit in the closer quarters of the smaller tunnel.

OOC: @Light +dark walk crew

IC: Skorm - Dark Walk, Alone

Looking around, Skorm tilted the angle of the lightstone so it rolled around. Once it was clear that he was either truly alone and whatever had pulled him away had left, or it was choosing to bide its time, the Ba-Toa dropped his Huna's invisibility. He had to meet back up with the expedition, with Zueya, Or get out of here, if that wasn't possible. Either way, he couldn't stay here. He was about to call the lightstone back to his hand, he wasn't going to repeat the mistake, but he froze. Instead, he released the protosteel spheres that Casanuva had installed his armor; as the six of them fell, he caught them in a gravitational field centered on himself. Slowly, he extended the field and the spheres (hollow, but could make holes in rock with sufficient velocity; the Toa Tool crafter had gotten the idea when listening to one of Kalyss's Kolhii stories) began orbiting him. They were joined by bits of loose rock and dirt, until Skorm was orbited for several meters by debris. As he moved forward to pick up the lightstone, he felt the edges of the orbiting debris field brush against the walls; an early warning system. Picking up the lightstone, Skorm held it aloft as he made his way forward, his saber grasped firmly in his other hand.

OOC:  @Krayzikk

IC: Cyrix - Ko-Koro

He witnessed the Cy-Toa, whom he had spotted leaving the Sanctum when he was keeping an eye on the lovebirds, leave the Koro's gates. Retracing his steps, he had left the Wise Man's Archive. Cyrix sighed in satisfaction, watching his crystallized breath drift on the breeze. He loved this Koro. The other Kalta, including Aelied, had all expressed their discomfort at the cold, but for some reason, this place reminded him of home. Wherever that was. And the snow made people so easy to track. Cyrix was going to wait for Aelied to finish his meeting so he could relay that Zueya and Skorm had left for the Dark Walk expedition, but he felt Aelied would also want to be informed about this. The Le-Toa had familiarized himself with the permanent staff of the Sanctum as well as the Sanctum Guard, but the Cy-Toa wasn't one of them.

Cyrix entered the Wise Man's Archive, scanning the inside. As quiet as he expected for a Ko-Koro library. He decided to wait for the proprietor to engage him, set the tone, and for what role Cyrix should play.

OOC: @ARROW404

The times, they are a-changing...

 

 

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5 hours ago, Keeper of Kraata said:

Cyrix entered the Wise Man's Archive, scanning the inside. As quiet as he expected for a Ko-Koro library. He decided to wait for the proprietor to engage him, set the tone, and for what role Cyrix should play.

IC: Priicu - The Wise Man's Archive

Another knowledge-seeker entering the most peaceful spot in the Koro. The librarian greeted the Le-Toa in traditional Ko-Koro fashion: strong eye contact and a barely perceptible nod. Having nothing to do for the moment, himself, he watched the Toa, in case he needed anything he might be able to provide.

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IC: The Lieutenant/Skorm

His eyes trailed over to Skrihen as he finally entered the hideout itself, the pale blue seeming darker in the atmosphere of the Darkwalk. "As I told Ronan, from what I know, our source found it himself and forced his entry. Not sure of the remainder of the circumstances, other than he seemed convinced of the death of Senemos."

Skorm's gaze followed Zueya as she moved away from him, and he rolled a shoulder in a shrug before moving toward the table. He startled and picked up a shard of metal, its shadow jagged in the light, and turned to face the others. "HeIIs."

What he held up was recognizable to everyone.

It was the shattered eyepiece of a Matoran's Pakari.

The Dark Walk

Much like her companions, the darkness did not answer Safina's question. But something did move out there, barely past the edge of her light. Something unidentifiable to her eyes, no matter how they might strain. 

Meanwhile, to Ronan's eyes, somewhat accustomed to combat, it was fairly obvious what the substance on the floor was. It was blood. And it got worse as it went in, leading to a wall that was hidden by the curve of the cavern. The pollen flew by her, filling the room, feeling out...

And Skrihen could feel something standing in the darkness, against the wall. Just beyond the reach of their lightstones. Not a Rahkshi.

But someone

Edited by Light
i did the swears oh no
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No such thing as destiny.

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IC:

There.

The merc considered what to do. If he— and she was reasonably sure it was a he— moved she'd know. It was clear he didn't know he'd been detected, either, which gave her a second to think it over. It was possible, remotely, that the unseen figure was on their side. But he didn't announce himself, he didn't clarify their intentions, and it was pretty obvious that they weren't associated with who this hideout had belonged to. There was no securing him without alerting him, not in this barren place. What she did have was a clear position, a clear line of sight, and a weapon already in her hand. 

If the dumb, reckless idiot was on their side she could worry about saving his life after.

In a single, sinuous motion she hurled her Acurahk staff at his stomach with enough strength to send it through him and embed its tip in the rock wall behind him.

_________________

A soft, sibilant susurration seemed to fill the tunnel as Skorm began to move, something felt rather more than heard. But nothing entered his sphere of awareness, no truly audible sound reached his ear. The darkness was satisfied as he risked a descent further into the abyss.

@Light @Keeper of Kraata

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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OOC: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67HND-L9k-A&ab_channel=MichaelSalvatori-Topic

IC: ???

The silence ended in deafening fashion.

A rich, deep baritone laugh sounded through the hideout, full of vigor. It echoed off the walls and in the ears as its owner detached from the pitch behind him, a sinewy, inky black form stepping into the light, his shadow stretching back into the black behind him, making him seem like shadow given shape. His emerald green eyes flickered in the light as a manic shine came to them--but far more horrible was his state of being. 

He had made no effort to dodge Skrihen's staff--The Rahkshi staff protruded from his stomach, blood already spurting around it. His wrists had thorny vines stabbed through them, their own heinous wounds covered in dried blood, his legs similarly penetrated with spikes of wood, dyed a rusty brown with seeping crimson. Scars marred the elegant curves of his nose and lips. 

"You disappoint us," the figure said, his voice tinged with madness but not an ounce of pain. "Pretenders. Cynics. Foolish idealists. Children. You have destroyed one legacy, and think to take another. Leave, before whatever shreds of virtue you might have are torn from you."

Edited by Light
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IC: (Earlier)

They were deep enough, now, that the last reaches of the light from outside had vanished. Even with his eyes, used to the long and deep shadows beneath the Le-Wahi canopy at night, adjusting about as quickly and fully as he could have hoped, it was his other senses that dominated within the void. 

His hearing, taking in the low hum of ominous wind and settling earth that flowed through the system, punctuated by their own movements. It was silent, yet because of that, a cacophony.

Upon that wind was smell, earthy and somewhat stale, a char upon it reminding the two of the magma tubes they were alongside, the volcano they would pass beneath. For how subtle it would by all rights be, it permeated the air. 

Taste, smell’s twin, reflected much the same in a stale, ashy tint to each breath. Bitter mixed with the putrid sweetness of rot, or so the Toa found himself wanting to describe it.

Feeling was his refuge between the presence of the wall and the crystal on his person, but even the solidity of the ground beneath his feet seemed wrong. Too smooth, too inviting, too forgettable if one didn’t pay attention.

With his eyes, the wilder swordsman scarcely felt confident in seeing more than a few feet ahead at best. 

He’d be liable to walk straight over a pit. 

He’d not even catch a fork in the path.

He’d blunder mask-first into a threat and not even be able to swing his sword effectively.

I’m getting sick of how much this is settin’ my nerves off, too.

Pausing for a moment, he focused. 

Remember the general composition, the lattice pattern, the interplay of faces and angles. Color is a reference point. So is how it grows.

From the largely rounded surface his left shoulder pauldron, a modest geode of lightstone some four or five inches high sprouted forth after that brief period of visualization and a small sacrifice of elemental power. Warm and soft orange light blossomed outward, and his vision returned somewhat— enough for him to, after a testing lift of his sword arm, comfortably see a fair distance beyond the extent of its reach. Ten to fifteen yards, if he needed to guess.

His eyes narrowed as each stride made the shadows, still far too heavy and strong, dance mockingly. This wasn’t Onu-Wahi, that much was clear.

“Got a light.” he reported back to the venerable Toa of Fire, whose eyes couldn’t clue him in themselves. “Let me know when to kill it.”

Sure thing,” the Ta-Toa nodded in understanding. He focused his attention forwards, to the unnaturally hewn walls of the Darkwalk ahead of them. While they were for the most part free of obstructions, the sheer size of the cavernous tunnels set him on edge. The sameness of it all made distance hard to judge.

They continued on, darkness only growing bolder as they descended further into the depths below Mangaia.

Time passed. Immeasurable in the small, dim section of the world that they could see, but it passed all the same. Just because you could not keep track of something didn’t mean it wasn’t happening. They both knew that from long and hard experience.

Whether it had been one hour within the tunnels or one dozen, Tarex had no way of knowing. It was as though trying to read the movements of a Takea below the waves from the shoreline. Nearly impossible, and pointless unless you were unfortunate enough to be attacked.

Thusly, every whisper on the subterranean wind, each shift of the earth that surrounded them, and the chitters of things that called the Dark home were his only source of context beyond their little pinprick of light, straining against the abyss they had thought to traverse.
He hadn’t spoken for some time now. There wasn’t really anything to say. Not when a stray word seemed deafening.

Not when the depths were ready to swallow them whole.

The darkness was oppressive, hanging heavily on those who would disrupt it like a thing alive and smothering the sounds just beyond the light’s grasp beneath it. The scrape of claw on stone, metal on metal, the rasping hiss at the edge of perception. The Walk was not safe but it hadn’t decided the face it would show, how far it would permit the light to reach before it was extinguished. The Sons of Makuta were territorial and aggressive without their master, but like the animals they had become they were not without caution. A certain base, primitive cunning. The interlopers were not the small, weak Matoran regularly chased out of the Walk if they dared to enter at all, nor the impudent entrepreneurs looking to make a widget off of the beasts’ armor. They carried themselves with purpose. One of the men should have been weak. His eyes did not follow, they knew, but his head moved with every sound. Not so feeble as he seemed, and whatever his senses his body was whole.

And the other…

The other moved like a hunter. Like recognized like. His stance, his gait, the one with light moved with the grace of the hated Muaka. There was coiled steel there, a preparedness that cautioned the creatures in the Dark away. They had not strayed so far into the beasts’ territory to be worth the pain they would bring.

But the Dark changed during their walk, as the air began to cool towards Ko-Wahi. The cacophony of a storm barely contained back the way they had come, if their ears were sensitive enough to discern, brought with it a rippling other.

And as one the creatures in the Dark screeched.  

“Keeping the light. They already found us.”

There was no sense in mincing words, and little sense in hoping for that outpouring of shrill, insectoid cries to be mere coincidence. It was too close. It was too loud. He knew better than to be so trusting of this den of evil— one slip was all it needed to drag you into those inky depths and drown you.

“We hold here.”

Though his tone was never any smoother than particularly abrasive sandpaper, Tarex’s lowered voice now progressed into a terse growl, matching the glare he cast into the void as though stabbing it.

His left hand, formerly so busy with gliding along the wall of their tunnel and ensuring his position never wavered, now squeezed the long and heavy pommel of his immense blade as its tip dimly gleamed in the feeble orange warmth. As though fighting valiantly against the Dark that, now more than ever, set itself to swallow them whole. 

The Cy-Toa inhaled deeply as he lifted the slab of crystal into a fighting stance, having set his back to face the wall he’d been minding. Even as that musty air, rotten and saccharine, filled his lungs, his mind began to race. Panic? Planning?

Likely somewhere in between. He hunted monsters. Sometimes… No, very many times, they hunted him in kind. This wasn’t new.

The pit forming in his gut wasn’t, either. As it stood, he was glad for a few things, at least— he could eliminate one angle of attack, he could raise and swing his sword well enough to maintain at least most of the thunderous arcs he favored, his blood was beginning to pump already after hearing that declaration of war.

Even in this forsaken tube of rock, there were things to be happy about. Strokes of honest-to-Mata Nui fortune. Maybe even worth a grin.

“Not a matter of ‘if’ any more,” he sneered, baring his teeth more than truly smiling. “It’s ‘when’. Something’s coming, old man.”

Even as that empty stomach of his fell into the ground beneath them, something else rose. A pulsing heat from within that strained against the cold of his blanching skin, lashed out against the butterflies in his stomach as if to tear them away, and frothed in his veins. Something that poised itself to wash away worry, if not quite erasing fear beneath the deluge.

Familiar.

Welcome.

Ready.

The screech that echoed down the confines of the cavernous tunnel lit the world ablaze when viewed through the not-so-blind smith’s Kanohi. A flash of perception in an otherwise muted arena of sound. He could sense his compatriot’s poise even in the fading glow of the monstrous screech, Tarex was in his element now, that much was abundantly clear.

Old man.

“Nothing behind, as far as I can tell. Whatever faces us, it does so ahead,” Ackune relayed to the Cy-Toa. He unlimbered his axe from where it had been carried at his waist. The time for words was slipping away, and the time for action was rapidly approaching.

Wordlessly, his hands began to glow with a soft light, and the blades of his weapon responded in kind as the dull metal was infused with Elemental Power, taking on a crimson color from the sheer heat.

While his stance was more relaxed than the warrior at his side, his mind was sharp and focused on any perceptions of motion that he could discern.

The sound of claws on stone was discordant, but the gait behind it hesitated. Something in its movements was infinitesimally faltering, the sound of a creature unused to its own form. No doubt a response to the heat from within that small bastion of light and a recognition of the creatures within. Even something as vicious as Rahkshi recognized strength, recognized its natural fears, and did not rush to fight. But that hesitation was fading quickly, the rasping scratch growing quick and confident and ever nearer. The other sources were further away, an unsettling backdrop to the creature growing nearer. Ackune knew earlier but Tarex needed no explanation either as it approached, a manifestation of the darkness underground come to slay the intruders.

Light bounced off of curved carapace in lapis tones mere moments before the murderous creature lunged into the light, low and fast. Its wicked staff lanced outwards towards Ackune’s midsection, Tarex seemingly forgotten in its blazing approach. Simple predatory instinct to attack the ‘weak’, a cruel calculation carried out below conscious thought, but something was calculated. It had come in low, its right shoulder forward in its thrust… And its staff kept between its body and the bigger threat, tight and controlled.

The territorial predator offered no further challenge, no intent to drive them from its home, no cry of challenge that its brethren had not already issued. It made no announcement at all beyond a soft, sibilant hiss.

There it was. Scourge from the Darkness. Hated enemy. He who would seek Our End.

That hiss was met with a howl, as the coiled spring released.

Tarex had been waiting on an attack from the moment the Rahkshi’s presence entered his perception, having not only recognized the screech, but the stride, the telltale scratch of staff and claw on stone. When the motion came into the light, he was effectively already moving.

After a small shift in his grip, and a hurried shift in weight, the cave filled with wind as something very large and very heavy was forced downward. As though he were the smith behind him, smashing shape and form into hot iron, the Cy-Toa wrenched the flat of his immense blade down onto the fore of the Rahkshi’s polearm. He knew Rahks to be strong by nature, but so much mass crashing into a thrust couldn’t be ignored, couldn’t go without effect. If it had committed its weight to the lunge, all the more so. He would knock this aside and end the ugly son of Makuta now.

Would he?

In the back of his mind, the small portion not yet dedicated to wrath and its delivery, something about this thing pinged as odd. It showed the same base animal instincts he was used to, true. In attacking the more aged, blinded of their pair, it was simply acting as a predator— but it carried itself weirdly. Something in how it held the staff…

Don’t care. It dies here!

Not even half a beat after the bone-rattling collision, he stepped deep with his front leg, drove his hips, torso, and shoulder into rotation, and swung forward.

A little more light entered the cavern, as sparks danced along the length of the Rahkshi’s staff in a murderous line towards its faceplate.

Far more nimbly than his otherwise worn demeanor would have let on, Ackune pushed off to the side as the Rahkshi's staff thrust forward, the motion a sharp spike of moment within his mind's eye. The motion moved his torso out of harm's way, not that it particularly mattered much given Tarex's heaving strike that came down on the weapon.

Thankfully, his Kanohi had granted him some degree of warning that perhaps his aging reflexes could not afford.

While Tarex made to cleave the beast in two, Ackune moved to clear out of the way of Cy-Toa, positioning himself off to the side. The smith raised his palm, axe still held at the ready in his other hand, in the direction of the insectile creature. A surge of elemental power, and the space behind the creature spontaneously combusted into a wall of flames; cutting off any sort of retreat away from the crystalline warrior.

The Rahkshi didn’t flinch and against all instinct it didn’t fight. Its staff smashed to the floor easily once it was clear no amount of force would overcome. No the opposition came a moment later, its leading hand flipping its grip and sliding up the haft. When its foe wrenched the blade up its length the angle became steeper, and steeper, and steeper its tip planted in the stone and leveraging the monster’s natural strength to rise. Before it even reached halfway the blade had no way towards the beast, not without breaking through the haft itself. And it was trapped on the outside of their clash. But sparks weren’t the only thing it shed in its wake; from the moment the blade touched the Rahkshi’s staff its crystal began to shatter and crumble from the edge in. 

Tarex could see its eyes now, backlit by the fire, and something ugly lurked within them. Ugly, and not at all afraid. 

With the Toa’s blade locked outside its other hand lashed out, raking claws at the Toa’s middle.

The old, pale scars that lied beneath his crystalline cuirass screamed, ablaze with a phantom pain. Though it was no Tarakava that stood before him now, one look at those cold, hateful eyes brought the wounds back to the day the serpent’s fangs had ripped them into existence.

Perhaps it was his instincts that shot the burning pulse through his spine, borne from the trauma. Though it was so different, it was in so many ways the same. 

This is nothing like Ta-Koro..!

Clenching his jaw furiously, he forced his urge to fear down as he gave ground, pushing off with his front foot to exit the space those razorlike claws ripped through. His damaged blade followed, no longer pressed uselessly against the staff that had in all but form become an iron wall. It remained within the distance between them, though, as his armored left hand lashed out. An instinctive, deterring swing, it lacked his usual crushing force in favor of denying, at least for the moment, pursuit—

And with any luck, distracting from the free hand that whipped forward and up, a hastily created spike of crystal some 11 inches long speeding toward the Rahkshi’s head. A little extra insurance, something else to think about. While he still had his head, he found he had plenty in his own right about what had just occurred.

A juggernaut before him. It had stopped his blade cold, checking his strength with its own. Rahkshi as he knew them were strong to begin with, true, but not nearly so immediately able to arrest a sword that was up to speed. This one even managed to leverage its might so as to devote only one hand to the duty, sending the other to rend through a Toa’s armor. As though it were child’s play. 

Certain death if he made a mistake. It was smart in how it did it as well, calculated. It knew it could change the angle and interpose that accursed staff between its faceplate and his blade— and what was more, it knew that it play havoc upon the thing’s integrity. He’d felt the wrongness as he ground his blade up the length. Sure enough, returning to his usual grip told him a story of wrecked balance, and the dancing cascade of shimmers playing about the walls of the cave spoke of a jagged, snaggletoothed edge.

Nothing but murder in its baleful gaze, promising only agony through a narrow glare. Right back at you, freak. As much as the shock had doused the black fire in his breast with ice, there was only one response he knew to work against a threat like this. It was just like that time on the shore, so long ago. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t hide. Both would certainly kill him now. One option left.

I’ll rip those eyes out of your skull.

Fight like Karzahni.
 

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On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Ronan (Dark Walk)

The mission was off from the start. It was plain to see - an incompetent Akiri sending Matoran to their deaths, for a goal that might have justified sending a team into the Dark Walk before the Makuta had returned, but was now a blatant smokescreen by her secretive C.O.’s. But the recklessness of Ko-Koro’s new commander was beyond her control, and in her time at Ihu she had come to - tentatively - trust that when the Highlanders took action, they did so for a reason.

But a new apprehension had taken root in Ronan from the moment she caught sight of those branches overhead, nourished by each new detail that failed to add up - the plantlife beneath the slab, the blood, the broken Pakari - until it grew into a clear understanding: she had drastically underestimated just how off this mission was. And now, here they were, face to face with a foe that in the best-case scenario was Senemos himself, left for dead by a Bo-Toa who never learned to double-tap, but just as likely was some new threat. Death had not been behind them, nor was it waiting for them - Death had been here before they had taken even a step into these forsaken caverns. Death had, Ronan suspected, already taken the Bo-Toa who came before them, and Death had likely taken the Matoran who had once worn that mask.

Slowly, warily, Ronan rose to her feet; her sword was already unsheathed, having appeared in her hand in the blink of an eye the moment Skrihen’s staff flew past her. A sudden move, at this point, would be a grievous error - whatever madness possessed the being in front of them, he had still chosen to offer them an escape. Even if he was lying, it would serve him well to maintain that lie at least a few moments longer.

“I take it the Bo-Toa who came before us did not accept that offer.” She had noticed the thorns and wood that protruded from their new acquaintance, clear signs of a struggle with their anonymous source. But even as she addressed the shadowy figure, Ronan's eyes, and her element, remained focused on the blood that stained the floor, following it even more closely than before - their opponent had bled heavily, but that did not mean that the blood was all his, and there were two potential allies still undiscovered in their surroundings.

Edited by Goose
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IC: Dartakh (The Dark Walk)

He did as the Bo-Toa said, cutting off a piece of the glowing plant with his protosteel knife and wrapping it around his wrist. He regretted not buying a lightstone before the trip, so it was a relief to get a personal light source, albeit he did not know how long the vine would keep glowing. Its light wasn't strong and the darkness did its best to suffocate it, but like the Toa had said, it was better than nothing.

Seeing a broken piece of a Matoran's mask did not startle or surprise Dartakh. If anything, he had expected to see something worse in the room. Nevertheless, it was clear proof that someone down here had been violent.

Then, in a sudden motion, the Bo-Toa threw her weapon into the darkness, and revealed the someone.

Within a second, Dartakh was ready for combat, his shield raised and the elemental energy disruptor in his hand. This was no Rahkshi-- in fact, it was hard to tell what the someone was --but he likely had elemental powers of some kind. Dartakh did not know if the someone had psychic abilities. Just in case, he probably should put the helmet on, but at the present he was far more concerned about the stranger's elemental powers. The someone already appeared immune to pain, which was bad enough on its own. If he had powers as well, then they were very much in trouble.

He had nothing to fear as no shreds of virtue remained in him. He welcomed the danger because it made him feel alive again, after feeling dead for so long.

OOC: @Light and the dark walk gang

 

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still alive somehow

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On 11/1/2021 at 10:25 PM, Daniel the Finlander said:

He did as the Bo-Toa said, cutting off a piece of the glowing plant with his protosteel knife and wrapping it around his wrist. He regretted not buying a lightstone before the trip, so it was a relief to get a personal light source, albeit he did not know how long the vine would keep glowing. Its light wasn't strong and the darkness did its best to suffocate it, but like the Toa had said, it was better than nothing.

OoC:

Kehuri was handing out lightstones before we headed in. Feel free to ret-con one or two into your bag.

On another note, I'm confused about our Ba-Toa friend who got abducted. Did his replacement say his number during the head count?

Last question, what's the room we're in made of? Earth, stone...?

IC: Kehuri

The Toa of Earth quickly stepped forward, shield raised, the lightstone mounted in its center trying it best to piece the darkness. He activated his Hau in preparation. Nothing (alive) that could take a blow like that without flinching was going to be easy to deal with. He glanced sideways at the one that had thrown that staff. Had she intended to hit the figure so squarely? To kill? His jaw clenched, doubt tugging at the edge of his mind. So few Toa cared for the code. He hadn't stopped to consider he might be the only one in the team that did. Why should he? They only expected Rahi down here. But faced with some... thing truly alive, he was torn between objecting to this level of violence, and simply shutting up and doing his job.

BZPRPG Profiles
If I go AWOL for a while, feel free to contact me via Discord

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IC: Plagia | The Dark Walk

My sword had been drawn, like Ronan's, as soon as the spear had left Skri's hand. I let a few sparks of lightning crawl along the blade's edge, but no more than that -- if Ronan could talk us out of this mess, let her. No need to set this ... person? ... off if we could help it. Even if he wasn't as big a threat as he looked, the last thing we needed right now was a ruckus -- a loud, attention-grabbing ruckus.

OOC: @Light

-Void

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IC, Atamai: Ko-Wahi

Atamai gulped as he stared down into the abyss. His heart raced.

I don't want to die, I don't want to die!

I stood up shakily on the shield and looked over where Kreigero had stuck her ice pick into the other wall of the crevasse. The Ta-Matoran pulled out his own ice pick and tried to judge the distance as best as he could. 

"I'll jump next, and then you can after me, Savrehn!" he said. The historian turned and looked grimly at the abyss, raised his pick, and leapt.

OOC: @Tarn @BULiK finally, i have time to post

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IC: Charek (Dark Walk)

Ah.  That sounded like escalation.

Charek turned, keeping the Dark Walk entrance in his peripheral vision, and winced at the sight of what seemed to be a walking corpse, shrouded in shadow and blood.  What in the world was this?  Some creation of those death cultists that had once invaded Ko-Koro?  A product of Rahkshi magicks- could Rahkshi even do such a thing?  Perhaps the result of that "Antidermis" mutagen he'd heard rumors of when he first came to the island?  Had the team come face to face with Makuta himself?  The figure spoke of a "legacy"- or was it "Legacy", with a capital L?

The Toa's earlier paranoia, fueled by anticipation and uncertainty, was receding fast.  In its place, it left questions...  and a strong urge to pull out a gun.

"With all due respect, sir," he called, hand inching towards the rifle at his side, "I'd appreciate it if you were a little less cryptic with your warnings."

OOC: @Light

It is not for us to decide the fate of angels.

Dominus Temporis, if you're out there, hit me up through one of my contacts.  I've been hoping to get back in touch for a long time now.  (Don't worry, I'm not gonna beg you to bring back MLWTB or something.  :P )

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IC: Safina - Ko-Wahi Dark Walk

Within the protective powered armor, Safina gritted her teeth. She was not one to lose her nerve easily, and soon found herself controlling her breathing… but both staring into the unwavering darkness for hours on end, as well as the uncertainty of what was happening further into the side passage, unnerved her in a way she was unaccustomed to feeling. In the end, she knew it was because of what unnatural forces were at work in this blasted cavern, but even still a small voice berated her lack of composure, however miniscule that lapse may have been. It wasn’t the small, ethereal voice she was accustomed to, either.

Artathi...”  she whispered to no-one, and no-one whispered back.

She shifted in her restraints, the ache of constant stillness beginning to settle into her bones as she continued her watch. Momentarily, she glanced at the suit’s power indicator -  she’d lost more power than she’d have liked down here, and hoped that she wouldn’t have to abandon the suit and return to the surface on foot - if, in that state, she made it out at all. Refocusing, her mind went to the hideout, from which she could only hear muffled sounds, and wondered just what the helI was happening in there.

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OOC: throwing my first ever content warning on a post i guess, but like. if descriptions of sh mess you up, unknown reader, this mightn't be for you

IC: Learu (Dragon Nest)

Aru’s tears had dried by the time she arrived back at the nest - as had the molten rock, now cooled to a gnarled, twisted shadow of what the cliff face had been before. Again, the image came unbidden - white armour scorched black melted eye bloodshot broken buried under skin and bone and metal and cheeks running into mouth running into teeth muscle and viscera black and burned and bloody and

CRASH

The stool shattered against the wall, shards of ice skittering across the floor. Heavy breaths, in and out of her mouth, and she felt real again, the sensation of lifting and throwing and smashing grounding her. It felt… it felt good.

She didn’t notice she was bleeding until the kitchen was spread across the floor and the walls. She didn’t know what she’d cut herself on - broken ice, or a knife, or a plate, or any number of things, but her hand was red and dripping onto the icy floor and smeared on her father’s chin as he looked at her and Xar and he looked hungry and

The cry was soft, and sharp, almost as sharp as the pain that jolted through her hand, up her arm, her spine, her skull - it didn’t even sound like her, not really, but she was alone and she felt it rise through her dry throat, so she knew the voice had to be hers. The pain, too, was grounding - her clawed thumb was still deep in the wound, but the initial sensation had subsided. It didn’t feel good, not like the trail of destruction she’d left through the cave, but it at least felt real. She at least felt real.


Once the latest round of tears had subsided, she cleaned and bandaged her hand. She looked around - the cave was a disaster zone. By the time Aclaraung got back, he might think she and Xar had brought their argument back here to settle it physically, especially with the bloodstain on the floor. Aru felt her face flush with guilt and embarrassment and pushed it down - she couldn’t bring herself to look at all of it long enough to clean it. Even when she looked away, she saw the Once-a-Balcony, and felt her fist clench in annoyance as Xar’s questions forced their way back into her skull. She shook her head, and took a deep breath; she couldn’t stay here, not alone. Not surrounded by… all of this. A familiar pain crept into her chest, one that she’d known often since she’d awoken - the pain of knowing that the one person who might understand what she was going through was here, but still out of her reach, an ache that she’d grown all-too-accustomed to while staring at Xar’s blurred and distorted form behind the ice. At least now he was awake, although she had no way of knowing where he’d gone.

Or… maybe she didn’t know where he was now - but she did know where he would be.

Aru didn’t look back as she flew away from the nest, leaving the chaos and disarray of the morning behind her.

OOC: Learu to Onu-Wahi.

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Nikarra - Kaelynn - Ronan - Muir - Donal Aerus - Montague - Kira - KouraLearu - Alteora - Fuacht - Caana Nessen - Merrill

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