Flight Final Poll

[Velox]

Vote here for your favorite Flight story; entries have been randomized. Please MAKE SURE YOU READ ALL ENTRIES BEFORE VOTING.Voting begins now and will end on June 17th at 11:59 PM EST. The entry with the most votes will be the winner of the Flight theme and will then be either judged or polled against the winners of the other themes.

1. Free to Fall Toa Gequira fell, cutting through the air, the ground rushing to greet him, with a smile on his face; there was nothing in the world he enjoyed more. The risk, the air, the view: it was incomparable. As the ground got nearer, he reluctantly activated his Kadin. As his free fall turned into a controlled flight, he, feeling the same rapid drop in excitement he always did, observed his surroundings. The snow-coated mountain he had jumped off loomed high behind him. Directly below, a forest of ice stood, as it always did, in its unnatural stillness. At one time, Gequira might have found the image captivating. That was long past. As he made his way to the encampment he’d inhabited for the past several years, which lay at the edge between the forest and the mountain, he reflected on his obsession with the fall. Was the fall his way to escaping his situation? Did he resent having to protect the forest and its “heart?” Was he frustrated by the fact that he had to stand guard, and that he wasn’t trusted enough by his team leader to be told the specifics of their duty? It was not all. He was a veteran Toa; he had fought his share of vicious battles. He had spent much of his life at constant risk. And yet, now that he had a peaceful duty, the calm was unbearable. The fall granted him equal parts risk and carefreeness, peace and excitement, action and tranquility. Without it, he felt he’d go mad. Reaching the camp, he felt a new presence in the area. As usual, a Toa was standing guard. Inside a rough structure composed of rock, he knew he would find the team’s leader, but he felt he would find somebody else inside. As he landed, he saw, through the open doorway, that he was right. A single Ko-Matoran stood near the exit. Beyond him, he could see his team leader, her face unreadable. “What’s this, Preayis? Who is our guest?” She noticed him and answered: “Just a Matoran villager from a nearby village, a trader. He is here representing the Dark Hunters. Threatened into service, I would think.” “What do they want?” “They are requesting we cooperate in their retrieval of this land’s heart. A bold request, I must add. ” “It’s not a request.” The Ko-Matoran’s voice was so quiet, Gequira almost didn’t hear it. “They’re already here.” Gequira rushed outside. The guard was nowhere to be found. On the periphery of his vision, he saw various indistinguishable dark shapes fluttering around. In order to get a better view, he took flight, soaring upwards. Down below, he could see Preayis exiting the camp, lightning crackling around her hands. As he angled down to aid her, he was struck by a strong blast. Thrown off course, he crashed, and lost all consciousness. ** When he woke, he saw two Dark Hunters in front of him. What they said he barely registered. They had kept him, and only him, alive. They needed him too lead them to the heart. That almost made him laugh. Knowing there was no escape, he led them up the mountain. It was a long trek, one he used to reflect on his choices. Nearing the top, he saw the surroundings one more time. It was beautiful. It was his freedom. Before the Hunters could do anything, he used his elemental powers to make the stone under his feet slope and give way. And again, he fell. The Hunters had taken his mask. There would be no flight. -----
2. The Necrofinch Desolation. Misery. Sorrow. That was what the forests of Zakaz represented now. Once green and lush, now grey and dismal. Once indicative of life, now death. Once a prosperous, paradisal island; now bereft. It was here, where the land had been bereft of its verdure, that I had been bereft of my Linorru. It was here the Skakdi had stood over her body, deprived of life, grinning psychotically as they always did. And it was here those Skakdi had died by my hand--and wept over Linorru's inert form. Now it was here that I laid a flower over the spot she had fallen. It was here I caressed the earth where her body had breathed its last. It was here I listened to the raucous dirges of the Necrofinch as it circled overhead, grieving for all the death its eyes had beheld in this land. I sighed to the wind, "I would curse Zakaz, if it wasn't cursed already. No words of mine can bring upon it worse banes than have befallen it. What worse bane than to live dead? than to remain but to breathe with life nevermore?" Then I heard a voice. "Nevermore." Startled, I looked about. But I was alone. I gazed up at the Necrofinch as it continued its flight and obsequial song. Bar its song there was silence. I whispered, "Linorru--Linorru, is that you?" "Nevermore." "Is that you speaking, Linorru?" "Nevermore." "Nevermore . . . will you speak. This is the truth." "Nevermore." I looked about again. The Necrofinch's song had ended. It was gliding downward, to surcease its flight upon the bough of a lifeless tree. There it perched, its feathers fluffed regally, staring at me with a pompous air. I almost smiled. "Can--can you speak?" "Nevermore." "What do you mean, creature?" "Nevermore." I regarded the Necrofinch with curiosity, wondering what the ominous creature meant in croaking its despondent word. It was a grim, ungaily creature, both ghastly and gaunt. "Tell me, bird: have you seen much of the universe?" "Nevermore." "I take you to mean you have, but will----" "Nevermore." "Precisely. And now you are trapped here, to leave----" "Nevermore." I nodded. "I too am trapped. Trapped by my soul, laden with sorrow, burdened with grief for the love lost here, for the love I will see----" "Nevermore." "Tell me, bird--you seem a wise creature, witness to much in the universe--will you share with me your wisdom?" "Nevermore." "But please, I must know! You must tell me what I ask. Tell me whether--whether in some distant land, in some life to come . . . will I see again my love?" "Nevermore." I rose. Voice shaking, I echoed, "Nevermore?" "Nevermore." I bowed my head in sorrow. My hands shook. Dolor swept over me afresh. I glowered up at the Necrofinch. "Thing of evil!" I hissed. "Lies! All lies! Iwillsee Linorru----" "Nevermore." I unleashed a cry of anger and unsheathed my dagger. With a frenzied vociferation I hurled it at the bird. It sunk into the Necrofinch's chest, driving it from its lofty perch to the ground below. "Nevermore." And then, incredulous, I watched the bird take flight, the dagger imbedded in its body. Slowly it flew higher, into the sky, doling out its melancholy dirge. I watched it fly away. "But of course . . . the Necrofinch. . . . What worse bane than to live dead? than to remain but to breathe with life nevermore? than to fly in neverending death?" I fell upon my knees and wept. -----
3. Fight or Flight Running, running, forever running. The beasts were always behind, ready to consume her. Why didn’t they tire, why was there no escape? Did Mata-Nui, the Great Spirits, or whoever was in control of the universe find it fit for her to eternally suffer like this? Did she commit some overwhelming sin that had gotten her banished to this Doom Viper’s pit, this Karzahni? She didn’t know, and she didn’t know why she didn’t know. She didn’t know how she could find these lost memories, either. She didn’t even know her name. She woke up one morning here, or at least she thought morning was the correct term. She had vocabulary jumbled in her mind, and she knew what a lot of it meant, or at least she assumed she did. She also thought she was in a cave, and that the cries of these terrible beasts sounded like ferocious, starving Muaka. The grunts sounded like furious Stone Apes. The hisses sounded like venomous, hunting Doom Vipers. But she couldn’t remember anything! She was a... Matoran. Of water, she thought, due to the blue armor she caught sight of in the brief light she entered every few hours. The beasts stopped when she entered these areas, staying out of sight. She thought she was safe. Then night fell, and she found herself fleeing again. She still didn’t know why. She didn’t have a clue. She just remembered... blood. Oil. Torn flesh, shattered machinery. Dying gasps. Cold laughs. Utter fear. Bright red eyes. Fire on the water surrounding the village. Darkness. She thought she had died... But she couldn’t remember anything. That was nothing. It was fragments of memory, not memories themselves. She remembered adrenaline pumping, fighting for her life. Against something. It was some beast, or maybe it was some sapient creature. She didn’t remember. She just knew that she couldn’t fight this time. She had to continue her flight, desperately hoping for a light at the end of this tunnel... A light that wouldn’t be from an impossibly tall, perfectly smooth shaft going straight into whiteness above. Fate... that was the word. Why had fate taken her here? What was fate, truly? Was it that she would run until her strength gave out, that her flight would end and she would be torn to shreds by these Rahi? Wait... was that light? She dared not hope. Yes, it was. It grew stronger. But it couldn’t be an escape. Was it? It seemed warm... unlike the previous rays. They were sterile, white. This was flickering, warm, orange. It was a... candle? A torch? Those were light devices. They provided fire. Fire was warm, flickering, life-giving. They meant someone was near. With one final push of her tired legs, the Matoran stumbled from the tunnel and into the light. -----
4. He should have known. But not really. He seemed to have lost his way, but he didn’t have a way to lose. Before him stretched an expanse of pale ground swirling with grey dust. Somewhere high above, he could see an imposing grey shell. Light filtered in through a sickening crack high above, about which moved several smaller beings. Not a single block of the precious solid protodermis would go to waste. Despite this, he was sure that they were too high up to see him, even though his color – green – would have stood out against the dismal landscape. There would be no assistance from them. Instead, the Toa walked across the area, toward the only landmark visible; the smoking remains of a dead volcano. Before it, he reached a yawning chasm, out of which a vile stench reached his nostrils. Nonetheless, he plunged in, jets on his back firing as his armor adjusted to the new environment. His eyesight sharpened, showing him a bruised, battered hulk of metal. He remembered the forcefield; but it was gone. The old gate was ajar at an odd angle; like so many other things it was broken, shattered by the waves of savage rule. It was dark within, but that didn’t stop him; it took only a few seconds for his armor to adjust. Besides, these tunnels were old friends, mostly free of wreckage and debris. His body glided gracefully through them, headed for no particular destination. For once, it felt good to be here, to be in a familiar place after his recent experience. Mostly, it just felt good to fly. But the tunnel was too short. Soon he emerged into an expansive cavern, ringed by gaping holes of shredded metal, like the bulk that had been raked by giant’s claws. The floor was littered with wreckage, but the impressive features of the power conduit remained, waiting for a call that would not come again. But that wasn’t what he had came for. The thought dawned on him, soaring over this sea of memory. He dived off into a side chamber, viewing the old hangar. A flash of red caught his eyes. He landed, sending twin dust clouds into the air; such a thing demanded walking. Touching its side, he swiped off a thick coating of dust to reveal a name. Axelara T9. You know, I have fought many hard-battles lately, thought Lewa, Toa Nuva of Air. It’s time for some party-fun! * * * Garan heaved the final load of supplies into place. It had been a hard day of getting the tools they needed out of Voya Nui, but the Spherus Magna sand stalkers had been most helpful in this regard. Now all they needed was to get the pack animals and themselves out of this area before nightfall. “Hey!” said Balta. “Look at that!” A huge flying vehicle emerged from a nearby void, blasting through the crack in the sky’s widest point. “it is fair and just” said Kazi. “A large package is fine for a large thing, but if it’s not needed, a small package will do better” said Velika. Garan looked on; he could note the glow in the Matoran’s eyes, the plans of a true inventor. He heard a whoop in the distance. Maybe we don’t have to be always on the run, just trying to survive. Maybe we can do more. So much more… -----

[Ballom Nom Nom]

It was very close between entries one and two, but the former seemed to fit the theme just a little more.~B~

[Toa of Dancing]

I voted for my own, number 3, because I honestly enjoyed it. =P

[fishers64]

Of course I voted for myself. That one was Most Obviously Amazing IMO.

[Legolover-361]

I voted for Entry 2. Its antique style and bleak plot somehow appeal to me.

[Kal the Guardian]

I had to go with number one. Sorry 'bout that, ToD.

[Nuile the Paracosmic Tulpa]

It stands to reason that #2 was my favorite, though #3 was a close second and I also enjoyed the writing styles of #1 and #4, if not the stories as much. Good luck, nonetheless, to all.

From the desk of Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith

[Velox]

Very hard choice between #2 and #3, but in the end I went with #3.

[Excelsior]

I voted for 1.-Excelsior

[Velox]

Polling period over; poll closed.