Visions Poll: Helmholtz

[Velox]

Visions Poll: HelmholtzVote here for your favorite Visions story; entries have been randomized. Please MAKE SURE YOU READ ALL ENTRIES BEFORE VOTING.Voting begins now and will end on May 30 at 11:59 PM EST. Entries that do well will move on to the final round. It is currently being decided whether this round will be judged or polled.

• [*]Wake He was standing alone on the black sand. The air pressed down on him. It would storm soon, his aching limbs told him that. This was too real as always, this surreal place. But he waited. He had learned to wait. There was nothing else to do in this world beyond his control. “They are coming, Vakama.” Vakama looked up. “Toa Lhikan?” He couldn’t keep his surprise completely concealed. He had not seen the toa of fire for a very long time, in life or in his visions. And yet, here he was, his greatswords slung over his shoulder. “I am what you want to see, Vakama. The storm is coming, and you must learn to make out the truth through the rain.” Vakama said nothing after that. He leaned on his staff, following his old mentor’s eyes toward the mottled gray sky. The wind picked up speed, piercing through his armor. He shivered. The rumble of thunder grew steadily louder, until a flash of light pierced the air above them. Lighting should happen in a split second, but Vakama could swear that he saw the jagged arms of the bolt reaching down toward them to embrace Lhikan. He shielded his eyes as the spot where Lhikan stood blazed with light. He could make out nothing. When the light faded, there was only Lhikan’s golden hau, laying on the sand before him. The eye-holes of the mask blazed red, then green. “Turaga!” Vakama sat up in his pallet. He rubbed his hands over his face to clear the last shadows of sleep from his mind. That voice...it had been Jaller’s voice. But the Captain of the Guard was gone. Gone to the land of the dead, most likely never to return. Vakama had learned to accept his visions. After all, his people venerated him for it. No longer did others question his sanity when he told of his dreams. He was the noble Turaga Vakama, leader of the Ta-matoran. The things he saw in the fire, after all, were not incomprehensible. He stared at the now dead pot of coals in the center of his hut. When he was awake, he could make sense of it, turn it into real voices and figures and events. But in the unconscious territory of his dreams, his mind melded and twisted and dissolved. There were still some nights when he woke feeling cold all over; when he was not sure if he was awake at all. And those eyes. Red and then green. What did that mean? The Makuta? His eyes were red, and his poison turned the eyes green. But matoran could have green eyes as well. Then there was Jaller’s voice. It had sounded different. Almost… Older, Vakama thought. Like a toa’s. He sat up and began to tend to the coals, as the sun hid the dying stars from the sky. -------- [*]Parallels The tension crackled in the parched air of the brightly lit room, enough to be felt through muffled waters of a crystal tank. The serpent restrained its particles from fidgeting in the stagnant waters a few days too old, staring back at severe eyes through scratched glass. It was difficult to breath, staying in one area of his prison for so long. A twisted mouth pulled up in a sneer. Not that he would be telling her that. Beyond the crystal barrier, the being merely narrowed her eyes. “Well?” If the eel had a body with lungs he would have swarmed and devoured those yellow eyes. As it was, the green serpent scoffed instead, quickly dispersing his protodites throughout the tank. “Spare me, dear false Toa, and find some other low life willing to sell themselves so cheaply.” For a moment, the Toa’s eyes darkened in rage. And then it was gone, replaced by a pronged device rippling electric current into the sea serpent’s watery prison. The snake screamed in agony. When the prong was lifted out, a green cloud of protodites coalesced at the bottom of the tank. The screaming stopped. Eyes glimmering with satisfaction, the Toa spoke almost nonchalantly, “Cheaply?” She raised her mask a fraction, “I’d think freedom for a job of tour guide is sufficient reward. After all, doesn’t your kind commit treachery after treachery to gain freedom?” “Yes,” Whispered the cloud as it slowly merged into its elongated shape. “But I require a little something more with my freedom.” Drawing ever so slightly to the crystal tank the cobalt Toa raised a masked ridge. “And that would be?” Trying to keep focus amidst the heat and thinning oxygen, the murky form of the Skakdi grinned with pearly teeth for all he was worth, “Your cold, dead body of course, Helryx. ” Suddenly the tank was bone dry. Not prepared for the loss of water, the skakdi could do nothing but choke. Helryx let him flounder for a few seconds before grabbing the suffocating creature and bringing its face level with her mask. It was dangerously neutral. The serpent’s mind reeled. The heat was damning. “It’s funny that you assume you have a choice in this matter, Zaktan. I am letting you have this bargain out of charity. I can just as easily force you to comply. Choose wisely.” With that the ancient toa of water dropped Zaktan into the empty tank, waiting for the skakdi to respond. But he wouldn’t -- couldn’t. He could not give in to this helplessness, this humiliation, for he could not understand how he had gotten to this. As Zaktan laid on the bare floor of his crystal prison, he could only think in despair as he gasped and gasped and gasped. How, how? How? -------- With a sharp breath, Zaktan sat ramrod straight. For minutes, he could only gulp down sweet breath after breath, frantic eyes roving around the tree root gnarled barrow. Then the skakdi sagged in relief against earthen wall, clutching his shoulder where a dart had grazed passed. A vision, only hallucination. Attacked after talking to informer. Poison dart, hallucinate something that never happened. The emerald skakdi covered his eyes and sighed. Didn’t enter fully. Would be dead. I need to be more careful. With that, Zaktan collected what few possessions he had on the ground and quietly crept out of his hideout. He had a rendezvous point to be and didn’t want to worry Thokan by being abnormally late. He did accomplish what he set out to do. The skakdi frowned at the meaning of the connection between his hallucination and new lead. Helryx. ------ [*]Hope is Freedom A mysterious being stood on a golden beach. The land before him was beautiful and untamed, though small footprints in the sand showed signs of habitation. It was a small island, but the newcomer decided it would serve his purposes. As the being took another step further onto the land that would be his home, a strange rahi slithered out of the minute boat floating on the breakers. It undulated up to the being, and he laughed as he stroked one of its two heads. “If only they knew what I know.” Hours later, a Le-Matoran gathering driftwood came across large tracks on his island's western shore. It was a sandy place compared to the other coasts, and for once he was glad for the loose grit. Le-Matoran are excellent trackers, and he was no exception. But as the Matoran peered at the textured ground, he noticed something intertwined with the footprints. It was the unmistakable charred path of a rare lava viper. The villager returned to his home in fear. He felt the need to inform his village elder of his discovery. As he neared the Turaga of Le-Koro's home, a friend called out to him. “What's the quickrush about, Aran? The leafparty begins soon! Everyone is there. Even Wiseone Humil has left his halls to participate in the festivities.” This stopped the Matoran in his tracks. Aran began to run the other way, towards the village's gathering place. As he raced towards his friend, he paused. “I saw a lava viper's path on the beach today, beside the trail of another being. Both had melted some of the sand beneath them, and you know the forest is hotdry this seasoncycle!” Even as Aran finished his warning, the two Matoran heard distant shouts. They ran and swung along branches as they raced to the celebration grounds. Though it had taken them mere minutes, to the two Le-Matoran it felt like an eternity before they stood beside their kinsmen. Turaga Humil turned to face them. “Sorrybad news has come from the borderlands. The forest is aflame!” Though Aran's friend raced off immediately to fight the fire, the tracker himself felt compelled to tell his Turaga of what he had discovered. When he was done, Humil shook his head in sorrow. “I forsee much sorrow in Le-Koro's future,” he said. “I have had visiondreams that speak of sorrybad times like this. I think I will not be with you much longer. But remember, Aran: good will triumph over evil. Someday there shall be Toa, and they will fightbeat this threat!” A few months after Aran found the being's prints on the beach, that same mysterious newcomer conquered the island. His first action after taking over the villages was to execute all the Turaga, so the Matoran would have no one to rally behind. It worked, and for about a thousand years the island villagers were kept under his control. During this time the Toa - Dark Hunter war was fought in Metru Nui, and fresh from it many Toa returned to their homes. But a team of six took to the seas, fighting scattered forces of evil throughout the universe. As they were sailing to the Southern Continent years later, a violent storm wrecked their ship and flung them to a small island off the continent's coast. Remnants of the maelstrom knocked them unconscious on the same golden beach the island's tyrannical ruler had stepped ashore on so many years before. And it was there that Turaga Humil's vision to Aran came true. ------- [*]Destiny. Up, down, up, down. The tendon in my arm writhes like a snake, changing shape and contorting as I relax and contract my arm. The dark shadows surround me whispering and taunting. Visions of ancestors long dead and forgotten. Electricity snakes along my arm, turning the sweat beading the skin to glowing specks of light. "Many have tried, none have succeeded." They whisper as one voice, "You will only suffer pain and sorrow if you try to complete this trial. Do not be a fool..." Up, down. The minuscule orbs of light flicker and sends tiny shocks down my arm. The waves crash onto rocks, many yards below. The light spray floating in the air catches the moonlight before it settles and coats my face, stinging slightly. It then joins my sweat, glowing faintly. The wind roars, waves crash, my heart beats steadily, keeping time with the waves. A wall extends skywards in front of me, mossy and glinting with slime in the faint light. I reach out and brush it with the tips of my fingers, sending a faint pulse of electricity up the wall, the tendrils quickly fade away to nothingness. "Do not be a fool youngling, you are the best hope we have. Do not waste it. " Up, down. The wind suddenly fades into a whisper, encouraging me on to the top of the world. The stillness makes the dark shadows clouding my mind anxious, the darkness begins to swirl, making my head ache. A massive wave crashes into the dark wall below, coating me in salt water and blinding me. Lightning explodes outwards and away from my body as it jumps from water droplet to water droplet, I'm encased in a micro solar-flare. I shout into the silence, "This future is mine to grasp! I shall take it and make it my own!" The shadows still, whispering among themselves. The brightness fades, shrinking back into my soaked and trembling frame. Then I jump, tendrils of lightning flow through my hands, snaking into the massive wall before me and pulling me upwards. Chips of stone fly, glowing white-hot in the darkness. The wall race past me at tremendous speeds, green and grey blur together to form a mess of flashing colors. The power surging through me instantly disappears, my momentum from my upward climb stays with me for a moment, and then it's gone. Gravity sucks at my legs, pulling me downwards, to a certain death on those massive boulders. My arms flail, searching for something to grab onto to stop my body from falling. "I will not fail. I cannot fail." My scrabbling fingers find purchase, and my arms scream in protest. Then I climb. Hours pass as I slowly inch my way up the sheer cliff-face, time seems endless, the only thing that allows me to know that time is still flowing by is the rumble of the ocean beneath me. The edge takes me by surprise, my fingers reach upwards expecting to find more rock, finding nothing, only air. Shaking, I pull myself up and over the edge, collapsing into a heap on top of the world. The power that so suddenly left me at the start of the climb enters my veins, now laced with something stronger, more powerful. I have found the vision. I will become a god. Surges of power enter me and I send them into the stone beneath me. The enormous tower that stalked generations of my race begins to crumble, falling into the sea of blackness. The vision is mine. I laugh. ------- [*]Salvation Running. Jumping. Flying. He did all of these with ease. But there always seemed to be a hunger that he couldn’t appease. Life. Battle. Death. All these and more flashed before his eyes. But he couldn’t even see through the web of his own mind-created lies. A blinding light, there, at the end of the tunnel! But he couldn’t reach it, no, as his fate would tell. “Don’t worry, Vakama,” the resting red Toa said, “The Vahki and Makuta all seem to have fled.” Suddenly he turned, seeing weapons of destruction, Matoran reduced to a state where they could barely even function. He stepped back in fear, before realizing his mistake, Already he had resigned the Matoran to their fate. Suddenly, the vision broke, he recoiled from the sphere, Attempting to conquer his mind numbing fear. “Vakama!” Nokama called, “What did you see?” Vakama shook his head, trying from his mind to flee. “The Matoran, they’re in danger!” The distraught Toa cried, Seeing his friends go to sleep, their freedom denied. Nokama put a comforting hand on his shoulder, Though to Vakama, he only felt colder.

***

Vakama sighed, sitting beneath the stars, having finished the small poem. He had yet to find Lihkan, let alone discover what he was to do with the Great Disks. He closed his eyes, thinking over his recent memory again.

***

When he closed his eyes, he saw Lihkan. Chained, beaten, but his fiery will burned bright still. The elder Toa of Fire stared into Vakama’s eyes, his gaze piercing Vakama’s innermost thoughts. “Do not fail the Matoran,” he commanded, a dark laugh coming through in the background. “You’re their guardian now, Vakama, they need you. Do not lose hope, do not back down, and you will prevail.” Lhikan’s face contorted in pain, his back arching as a shadow whip burnt another bloody trail down his back. “Go, Vakama!” He commanded. “Do not tarry here, the Matoran need you!” The golden-armoured Toa of Fire let out a slight groan as he was struck again, fading from Vakama’s view, not hearing the desperate cries of the mask maker.

***

“Vakama!” The Toa of Fire heard. “Vakama!” He stirred awake, his hand instantly reaching for his disk launcher, ready for battle…when he noticed it was just Nokama attempting to awaken him. “Another vision?” She asked, concerned. Vakama nodded, averting his eyes. Nokama sighed, banging her fist against the wall in frustration. Vakama stood, walking to the front of the small canyon where they were sheltered. He had a perfect view of the Coliseum. He pulled out two of the Great Disks, again, looking at them intensely. Suddenly, he felt an almost magnetic pull between the disks…normally he would resist this, to prevent any possible damage to the disks…but this time, he let them come together. He was surprised by the result. Instead of just bouncing against each other like normal disks might, they merged. He looked at them closely, pulling out the other four disks, one by one, and combining them all, applying a little of his element to make sure they merged well. He smiled, looking at the finished product. A burnished, golden-hued disk, almost with a majestic aura about it. “Nokama,” he said, a determined look on his face, “I think I’ve just found our salvation." ------- [*]The Visionary

₪҉₪

"Get out," Dispatched to the Northern Continent on Makuta Icarax's orders, Pridak had been granted jurisdiction over a small peninsula. What the Makuta had failed to mention, however, that the land's primary inhabitants were rocks and Rahi.Perhaps to lessen the sting of the slap to Pridak's ego, they'd dispatched a small herd of Matoran to go with him and serve as his staff. The Matoran ducked his head in compliance. "Sir," Pridak sat down heavily on his stone work desk, knocking the scout's report tablets to the floor with a resounding clatter. He looked out the window of the shack that he was supposed to call a fortress. Instead of seeing the occasional boulder that littered the landscape, he saw Xia. The imposing skyline stabbed into the sky, reaching for the twin suns as though trying to dethrone them. Fire fueled the race to the heavens, new factories and foundries being created every day. Smoke and haze seeping from the buildings hung in the air, tasting like grandeur. The addicting sensation of success, production, and monopoly thrummed trough the streets, making the realm of the Vortixx truly unique and beautiful in the Universe. It wasn't only the landscape that made Xia enviable. It was the spirit of the inhabitants. They were forward thinking, always. Sharp minds formed the backbone of the population, while the perfect combination of ruthless and genius sat in the seat of authority. Manipulative, cunning, and clever, the Vortixx were at the very least admirable. And the beauty didn't end there. In his mind's eye, Pridak saw Xia's smog spreading across the world, turning everything to the same twisted beauty. Nothing in existence would be able to compare, of that Pridak was sure. It wasn't long before the sharp skyscrapers and strong fortresses of factories blotted out the suns completely. It was majesty. And one day, maybe not so far away, that envisioned majesty could become reality. Of course, Pridak would have to work for it. Dreaming could only get one so far. Naturally, he wanted to get out from under the thumb of the Brotherhood of Makuta. At the moment, Pridak thought that would be a bit pre-mature. He would establish his tiny dominion on this Northern Continent Peninsula for now. Pridak was not a Toa, but he did believe in destiny. He would lay low, and wait until the time destiny called for change.

-------

[*]

The Florist's Failure Everything is dark. I try to look around, to find some point of reference, but to no avail. I am all alone, unable to see, in the middle of nowhere. I lift my arm upwards, flexing my fingers in front of my face. I can see my gauntlet's dull green metal plating; illuminated by the faintly glowing elemental emitter in my palm. So, I am not blind. I look a bit closer at my hand, and I notice something else. It is wet. A moment later, a bright flash tears through the blackness, accompanied by loud thunder. Suddenly, I can feel the wind and rain bearing down on me. I am glad I wear a mask, for the smooth surface protects me from the brunt of the storm. I gaze into the distance, trying to make out my surroundings. I can now tell that I am standing in a field, not far from a structure of some kind. Even though I can't remember it, I feel as if there is something I am supposed to do there, something I have long since forgotten. Without a second thought, I begin to walk towards the building. As I get closer, I can now see that the building is a small storage facility, perfectly rectangular and covered with smooth metal plating. I press myself against the wall to avoid the worst of the howling wind, and search for the door. In the end I find it, and for some reason I am not surprised to find it unlocked. I get inside and shut it behind me, and in an instant the sound of the storm is gone. I am standing in a big, dimly lit room, with yellow lightstones lining the walls on all sides. It appears empty, save for a single object lying in the center of the room. With a hint of a memory in my head, I approach it. Once I get closer, I can see that the thing is blue and metallic. I crouch down and pick it up. Half of a Kanohi Pakari. How curious. A sudden sense of dread fills me as I look at it, and I tear my eyes away. I look around the room once more... and this time, I shiver. Plants. There are plants everywhere. The entire building looks as if it has been overgrown for years. I turn around again to leave the place, but find that there is just a smooth metal wall in front of me. The door is gone. I blink, and suddenly the fauna is moving, and the air is filled with the chitter-chatter of leaves rustling and wood being strained. Ivy sprouts beneath my feet. A root catches my foot, and I yank it loose, only to have another shoot up and twist around my waist. I stumble and fall, panic pulsing in my head. Another memory hits me, and I reach out with the power I only now remember I have. The plants are torn away from me. I will them to crawl back from whence they came, and soon I am left alone in silence again. I push myself up from the floor, feeling heavier than I ever have before. The mask I found lies in front of me. I meet its empty gaze, and its half of a mouth whispers to me: "Why did you fail me?" I wake with a start, to find my fellow Toa standing around me. I wave them off without a word. There is no need to trouble them anymore than I have already done... -------

[*]

Visions Takutanuva arose, a gigantic figure with contradictory powers and passions. He held the powers of life and of shadow, of light and of death. But he was enlightened; he knew and accepted the greater good over his own personal ambition. And he knew the future. With his enhanced mind, he could see the future laid out before it with disturbing precision. The Takua part of him perceived it as a factory layout; piece after piece added down the production line of time. Most parts were insignificant in themselves and yet required for the larger and less subtle adjustments to the different futures.

One was a universe of darkness, of Makuta-worshipping Matoran haunted by Rakshi and more terrible, though frequently less substantial, creatures. He saw how this would come to be. It was revolting; a travesty of everything as it should be. And once this state was achieved, it would be irreversible. Every day would be a step deeper in the descent into darkness. The other future began similarly, and even near its fulfillment it appeared that evil had triumphed. Takutanuva saw Makuta, that dark side of himself, conquer the Matoran universe. There was no hope in the future. Unless-- Takutanuva knew his minds, none better. With his myriad of powers, he could manipulate them slightly as well. He planted a thought deep inside the Makuta section of himself: rather than simply destroying Mata Nui as previously planned, Makuta would instead place his spirit inside the Mask of Life. Of such small decisions are futures made. Takutanuva performed this devious operation on his own mind, even while lifting the stone to grant the Matoran access to Metru Nui. He knew that such an unstable being as himself could not last for more than a short time. He was composed of powers, characters, and convictions so opposed that he could almost feel the pull to be separated even now. But it was imperative he be successful, or the world would be dropped into shadow eternal. The rock was lifted; the Matoran and Toa Nuva flooded through the gap. Takutanuva felt himself bending, fading, breaking apart. He had mere seconds left. With a desperate, delicate twist, he completed the self-psycho-surgery, and the gate fell. As the Matoran and Toa Nuva gathered in the other side of the barrier, wondering at the new land opening before them, Makuta felt himself regaining consciousness. He knew he had been... different... while under the control of the Mask of Light and Takanuva's personality, but none of that remained in his own personality, and only vague memories. He knew that he had considered the option to work towards a begtter universe, or towards his own ideal. He felt all the horror and tyranny of his own plan rise up in him. Makuta gauged his emotional reaction to this. He felt nothing but... blackness. So he knew he as evil as he had always been. And Makuta smiled. How delightful my dark future will be, he thought. Nothing can stop me now. ------- [*]Masks She found Korlu huddled behind a boulder near the still-smoldering campfire, knees clutched to his chest, limbs thin and limp under discolored white armor, eyes and heartlight flickering with dim gold light. The face behind his Mask of Clairvoyance was tensed and quivering, the jaw hanging slack, the eyelids drooping. He reminded Ihara of rumors she had heard about the first of her kind- about the terrible burden Helryx had been forced to shoulder when she forsook the Code, and what countless millennia of service to the Great Spirit had done to her body. The Toa of Lightning had often wondered what her kind would look like in such a withered state; looking at the present state of her comrade, she felt she had found out. Dropping to one knee beside Korlu, she whispered, “Brother? Can you hear me?” The Toa of Ice said nothing, but his head bobbed forward slightly.[/font] Ihara closed her eyes, exhaled softly. “Korlu, do you remember what happened at the campfire this evening?”[/font] Korlu didn’t respond.[/font] “Korlu, you… We were talking about the Visorak tower that showed up in the south, remember? And you were in the middle of one of those visions your mask gives you, saying something about Kahgarak and Lohrak, and then you just fell over and had a seizure-”[/font] “The visions help us,” Korlu croaked.[/font] Ihara blinked. “What?”[/font] “The visions help us,” he repeated.[/font] Ihara stared at him. “…No, brother, they- they don’t. The visions hurt. They hurt you.” She reached for his hand. “They hurt allof us-“[/font] Faster than she had believed possible, Korlu lashed out and grabbed her arm. “No. The visions help.”[/font] Ihara gasped something that sounded halfway between a cough and a sob. Korlu let go, his fingers lingering on her arm for a moment before clutching at his knees again.[/font] The Toa of Lightning didn't try anything after that at first, simply sitting down next to her comrade, not letting him escape her gaze. Korlu did nothing, his eyes firmly focused on the ground.[/font] After a few minutes, Ihara reached over to Korlu again. "Brother?"[/font] Korlu tilted his head slightly in her direction. When a moment passed and he didn’t look away, Ihara, taking a deep breath, pulled off her Pakari. Immediately, she felt like her lungs had been completely emptied, and with the waves of nausea and dizziness that quickly followed, she doubled over with her eyes closed and teeth gritted, clutching at her stomach. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone without a Kanohi, and her body was reacting far worse than she’d expected. Suddenly, she felt the mask in her hand being pulled towards her face, and she forced her head up to see Korlu kneeling over her, eyes wide behind his mask as he tried to reattach her Pakari. “No,” she gasped, and the Toa of Ice’s grip suddenly grew far weaker, although his hand remained on her Kanohi. “Y-you take… My mask… I’ll wear yours…” She attempted a reassuring smile. “One of us has t-to wear it… Right…?” Korlu looked at her, looking much as he had when Ihara had found him, eyes half-closed, mouth half-open. Even when he reached around the back of his head and slowly peeled the Mask of Clairvoyance from his face, his eyes never left hers.[/font][/font]

END

[/font]

Edited May 28, 2012 by Velox

[55555]

2, 8 and 9 were my favorites of these.- 55555

[VeoiTheRascal]

9 made me smile.

[The Dark Chronicler]

I voted for entry two here, I quite greatly enjoyed the story of Zaktann seeing his fate in a glass jar and brushing it aside. All of the entries were wonderful, but two seemed especially great.

[fishers64]

1,2,6, and 8 all stuck out to me - I chose 6 for the unique perspective on the theme. Everyone else's entries were great, though.

[Excelsior]

I voted for 8 - I thought next best were 1 and 9.Well, I guess now we know why Makuta decided to put his biggest enemy in one of the most powerful objects in existence. (Interestingly, in Makuta's Guide to the Universe, he refers to that move as "brilliant.")-Excelsior

[Maganar]

I know it was randomized, but I think all the best entries just drifted into this poll! I think this entire poll represents some of the best stories this contest had to offer. Even if I voted for #9 in the end (despite having another Mask of Clairvoyance), it was great to see Zaktan and Takutanuva as protagonists in this poll. The dart in #2 was a nice deviation from all the Masks of Visions, Clairvoyance, and Illusions we kept seeing, and I always liked Zaktan best of the canon Skakdi characters. Takutanuva's briefly extant mind is something I had always pondered, and I really like what #8 did with it.