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BZPRPG - Ga-Wahi


Nuju Metru

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IC: The din of village activity drowned out Xenin's voice, and he had to raise it somewhat in order to be heard. "So where are we-" He suddenly stopped speaking. Most activity had abruptly subsided. All eyes had stopped to watch as a troup of Onu-Matoran made their way through the square. They seemed out of place, as Xenin had only seen blue armored Ga-Matoran like Faori since he arrived. He leaned over to speak to his diminutive guide. "What's all this about? You'd think they sprouted wings what with the looks they're getting." A Ga-Matoran flanked by two guards had greeted them, and Xenin guessed the underground dwellers had come on the means of business.

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IC(Daylaria-Marine HQ)

 

My Darling Day,

You have a vortixx in your custody for interview. I've just been given a reinstatement for a mission and I will be needing this scum's services temporarily. Please allow Krios to come to my chambers. Immediately.
Your friend,
Knight.
The Commander nodded curtly at Lipa. "Krios. Go with her." She sat back, a three-second staredown between the shady Vortixx and the gentle-eyed Valkyr letting him know nothing was wrong.
"Alright, next interviewee...Shadd*, is it?"
As Lipa departed with Krios, Daylaria scribbled a note for Iraira. "Ooh, Lipa! Top secret, take this with you!"
My Irreplaceble Iraira,
Lunch at Nahli's Diner after this?
OOC: *For the sake of simplicity, I will be regrettably Metagaming the names of those interviewed.

BZPRPG Profiles

IC:

"It comes with the job," Halfimus explained, "I'm not paid enough to give anything outside quick flavour descriptions."

So pay me more AuRon.

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OOC: Well, better start now than 40 pages later. I haven't used all my new BZPRPG characters yet.

 

IC: Nunuaka

 

For the tenth time that day Nunuaka found herself wondering why she was spending the day swimming in Ga-Koro, and for the tenth time she reminded herself that she didn't have a clue. She sometimes spent time socializing with the Ga-Korans, but never swimming, which she positively hated (even though she was good at it). She looked over her shoulder at some strangers. From the looks of other Ga-Matoran, they had never had so many bizarre visitors.

 

"What's going on?" She muttered.

2xu8Ptu.png

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IC: Voutok"I'll call him in, then."Voutok walked outside the office. And called among the remaining interviewees."Whoever of you is 'Shadd', you're up next. Please enter the office and have a seat." Voutok quickly caught Lipa before the Marine got too far away. "Anything for me come in the mail?"OOC: Kughii, I'm just using this as an excuse to acquire the letter Lenat dropped off for Voutok, basically.

Behind this sucky post count, a writer and hardcore RPer lies in wait of a reason to post...

 

For those who will likely ask when reading some of my non-RP posts: for me, "*shot*' = "I know that what I said was something stupid and I am acknowledging this before people think I'm serious."

 

Oh yeah, and my current BZPRPG character bio can be found here.

 

"Why...me? Oh yeah, that's right. I'm weak. I'm of a minority, a minority of people with a common trait: we hear too much. And what we're supposed to hear hurts to hear. When I'm alone in a silent room, I can hear a pebble dropping from a mile away. I can hear a motor boat being started up several yards off the coast. A whisper from outside, I can hear as if they were talking right at me. An explosion in another koro, I hear as if it's just outside. Sounds useful, right?"

"Wrong."

"It's a curse, if you ask me. The same pen dropping inside this aforementioned silent room would ring in my ears. If I stood by the same motor, I'd get a headache. The same whisper would ring in my ear like two metal beams being slammed together in front of my face. The same explosion would render me deaf for years...thank the Spirit I thought of getting me something to dampen the noise, or I'd end up like the rest of my kind..."

 

~Voutok S'Tythe; unknown date, unknown location

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IC(Daylaria-Marine HQ) The Commander nodded curtly at Lipa. "Krios. Go with her." She sat back, a three-second staredown between the shady Vortixx and the gentle-eyed Valkyr letting him know nothing was wrong.

 

IC: [ Krios ] - Marines HQKrios raised one eyebrow slightly at the unexpected development, but didn't protest. Shouldering his Rahi-hide backpack, he rose from his seat and fell silently into step just behind the message-bearing Marine.OOC:So, a quick headsup: I'll be inactive (again) for around five days, beginning Sunday, June 16. Would like to get Krios' discussion with Iraira finished by my departure, but if it doesn't work out, so be it. Just sayin'.

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IC: NPC Lipa and Commander Iraira

Lipa paused, glaring at Voutok until he took his arm off her. Digging into her messenger bag she stabbed a thick envelope to his chest. “Don’t touch me, Private. With my word you could spend a week chafing your kanohi on the ground floor scrubbing.”

Krios received a gleaming smile as Lipa left Voutok to figure out who she was. With a subtle hand movement she walked down the halls. “This way, please.”

---

“So, you’re Krios.”

The vortixx was standing in room roughly twice the size Daylaria had interviewed him in. Books ran the length of the back walls, picture windows unveiled the harbor in a fine afternoon bustle of commerce. Rope bordered the furniture. He was alone, save for the Commander. Still sitting, feet propped on the massive desk, was the cerulean toa. She smiled charmingly enough, but there was something violent and commanding about her presence. Maybe it was the long-handled boarding axe she kept bouncing softly off the tip of her boot.

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IC: Voutok"Eh...sorry. Was in a hurry. Thanks." Voutok toyed with the envelope for a bit. "Well what do you know, I actually got mail that ISN'T a paycheck or urgent orders." He glanced the name printed as the sender. "From Lenat? I'll be sure to look at that after these interviews are over." With that thought, he slid the note into his satchel and followed Shadd back into the Commander's Office, taking point by the door.

Behind this sucky post count, a writer and hardcore RPer lies in wait of a reason to post...

 

For those who will likely ask when reading some of my non-RP posts: for me, "*shot*' = "I know that what I said was something stupid and I am acknowledging this before people think I'm serious."

 

Oh yeah, and my current BZPRPG character bio can be found here.

 

"Why...me? Oh yeah, that's right. I'm weak. I'm of a minority, a minority of people with a common trait: we hear too much. And what we're supposed to hear hurts to hear. When I'm alone in a silent room, I can hear a pebble dropping from a mile away. I can hear a motor boat being started up several yards off the coast. A whisper from outside, I can hear as if they were talking right at me. An explosion in another koro, I hear as if it's just outside. Sounds useful, right?"

"Wrong."

"It's a curse, if you ask me. The same pen dropping inside this aforementioned silent room would ring in my ears. If I stood by the same motor, I'd get a headache. The same whisper would ring in my ear like two metal beams being slammed together in front of my face. The same explosion would render me deaf for years...thank the Spirit I thought of getting me something to dampen the noise, or I'd end up like the rest of my kind..."

 

~Voutok S'Tythe; unknown date, unknown location

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IC: (Hari)

 

IC:

 

When they tell you home is where the heart is, and there's just an empty space where your home used to be, it begs the question: where did your heart scamper off to?

 

Tillian had hung back, feeling safest near the welcoming cling of the ocean that lapped at his ankles as he sat, crouched, on his feet; his eyes desperately roamed over anything he could find of his family retreat, each remaining beam of foundation, chunk of wall, fleck of memory. When he closed his eyes he could see the house as it once had been, large and regal, a cottage of sorts that he and his family, his team, could fall back on. Then the team had dissipated, which was largely on him and his disappearance, in hindsight. After all, when you cut out the mortar from between bricks, even when the mortar's circumstances are beyond its control, the bricks will still clash and eventually separate, and the structure would fall. At last, when only one brick was left to support what had once stood, it had collapsed, turning to dust between the fingers of the first scavenger to come and pick it clean. And it just so happened that, by the time the Toa Daedra had come into power, there was only one brick left standing.

 

Hari wept at what was once a door, and it snapped him out of his own private mental eulogy, dragged him forward away from the safety of the ocean. The sounds of her anguished, cracking sobs compelled him to crouch down about eight inches behind her and reach out with his arms. He embraced her without hesitation or heed, holding her by the abdomen and, though not pulling her back, preventing her from moving forward too quickly without a fight. Tillian's own eyes were not wet, for they had wetted countless times before over the last several months and by now lacked the energy for further moisture. That said he understood the fresh, eviscerating pain that the sight of this place had cut deeply into Hari's pure, naive little heart, and since no one else stepped forward to anchor her he had decided to do so himself.

 

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked with the typical gentle, accidental selflessness, content only when the lost void in Hari's soft eyes had been filled to the brim once again with the typical turquoise brilliance.

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC(Daylaria-Marine HQ)

 

"Shadd. Welcome to the Marine Headquarters. You know who I am, so tell me a bit about you," she gave a big, honest smile, "have you ever worked with the military?"

Edited by Shuhei Hisagi

BZPRPG Profiles

IC:

"It comes with the job," Halfimus explained, "I'm not paid enough to give anything outside quick flavour descriptions."

So pay me more AuRon.

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IC: Commander Iraira“So, you’re Krios.” The vortixx was standing in room roughly twice the size Daylaria had interviewed him in. Books ran the length of the back walls, picture windows unveiled the harbor in a fine afternoon bustle of commerce. Rope bordered the furniture. He was alone, save for the Commander. Still sitting, feet propped on the massive desk, was the cerulean toa. She smiled charmingly enough, but there was something violent and commanding about her presence. Maybe it was the long-handled boarding axe she kept bouncing softly off the tip of her boot.

IC: [ Krios ] - Marines HQKrios returned the Hau-masked Toa's smile and remark with a brief, courteous bow, polished and easy as any diplomat's. "Yes, m'lady. Krios. How may I be of service?"He hesitated momentarily, seemingly troubled, then added, "I beg pardon for inquisitiveness... but how do you know my name?"

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IC- Verak - Ga-Koro Prison

IC: Strakolix

 

"Well since the lighter pebbles are on my side, I go first since white goes first." He moved one of his pieces. "So, got any friends on the island?"

I smiled as I considered the Vortixx’s question. Did I have friends? Good question.
Memories of the every loyal Ankt flashed through my mind. Although not intelligent, he helped me like a loyal friend even if he didn’t always quite understand my motives. Fond memories of him tossing the unconscious Valria into a snow bank filled my mind. She certainly wasn’t a friend… my mind wandered back further, back to Zakax and his gullible sister and Corex and the rest of my noble sailing gang, and further back to the wise Le-Matoran who had helped me through the jungle for ages with a witty quip on his lips mixed in with a word of advice that would save my life. Further still…
No. It wasn’t good to dwell on such things. Don’t think back, Verak. I make that mistake too often. No, happiness is in the present.
The present being a talkative Vortixx, a game I didn’t know how to play, and a Ga-Koro prison that smelled heavily of fish.
I shrugged. “A couple friends, I suppose. More enemies than friends though, if ye know what I mean. What about you? And, move that black piece towards the middle of the board, won’t ya, brother?” I gestured vaguely at the chessboard that I could not reach.

--------------   Tarrok | Korzaa | Verak | Kirik   --------------

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IC: Captain Iraira

 

 

Lipa bowed stiffly then removed herself from the room. The door shut with a plaintive squeal. Iraira paused in tapping her axe, letting it hang in the air slightly as she inspected the edge.

 

"Just as a fikou knows when a rahi has lodged in her web, the Marines know when shady individuals arrive. It's what we're paid to do, after all: keep the peace. Without some proper knowledge about who's where and when, we'd be ridiculous fools." She paused her little speech, taking a moment to glance at the vortixx. He was good-looking, dressed in his own style -- part woodsman part dandy -- and seemed unarmed. That's a first, She thought quizzically. Passing it off as impossible, Iraira continued.

 

"To answer you're next question, I'm offering you an opportunity to explore the remains of Kumu Islets. Here's the gist: you will become a temporary Marine for the duration of the voyage at Private class, with all its benefits; you will receive 100 gold widgets as a third party fee, along with a stipend paid weekly until the voyage is complete; you will be given basic nautical and dive training before departure, including a full set of basic Marine equipment. I would highly recommend saying yes, because saying no will set into motion a rather depressing mechanism. This is a backdoor deal, and you will be answering directly to me until the end of the voyage."

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IC:

"Of course, whatever would please you, Akiri, is our pleasure," Korsu nodded with a polite smile. "Lead us where you want to go. However, if I may, I would remind you that the reasons for our visit are relatively sensitive, and it may be more reasonable to conduct our meeting in a more private location."

 

Wiremu didn't consider the reason for their journey to Ga-Koro to be all that confidential, but he reminded himself that he wasn't the diplomat here. Korsu probably wanted to sequester their dealings to somewhere private, he thought, so that Hahli wouldn't have any reason to put on airs for the people around her; it'd be more productive if she was direct with them. And, if the negotiations unexpectedly turned south, they wouldn't be surrounded by Hahli's people. Not that that would happen; it had no reason to. Korsu was, Wiremu decided, taking precautions, and he approved of that strategy.

 

"Perhaps we could convene in your hut," Korsu suggested. "And our guards could all go feed themselves together. I'm sure that our fine Ussalrymatoran, after our long trek, would be glad of food and a little tour about Ga-Koro while we're talking. A gesture of good faith."

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IC(Daylaria-Marine HQ)

 

"Ah, you'll get to know me should you accompany me on the dive. "Anyways, what are your reasons for joining? Be honest. I just had a Vortixx tell me the reward was his complete reason." She laughed heartily, still exuding causality and warmth.

BZPRPG Profiles

IC:

"It comes with the job," Halfimus explained, "I'm not paid enough to give anything outside quick flavour descriptions."

So pay me more AuRon.

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IC: Shadd

"I and Kirgan, the Onu-Matoran that had been waiting in line just behind me, were actually on our way to dive to begin with. Finding you here was nothing more than a lucky fluke. To more thoroughly answer your question, I am an archaeologist, and even though the Xa-Koronan ruin is not very old, I would still very much like to explore its mysteries."

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

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IC: Diegol (Outside Marine HQ)There was a curious amount of activity around Ga-koro today. Good, he thought, I'm an exceptionally curious Matoran.The Mata-Nui Daily had mentioned a squad of the Ussalry visiting the Koro, and now everyone and their brother seemed to be milling about the Marine headquarters. Something big was happening here, and Diegol was going to find out what.Clusters of beings--both native and foreign--milled about outside the Marines' headquarters. There was an air of secrecy about the Koro, as rumors were exchanged as whispered secrets for trusted ears only.But Diegol was a De-Matoran. And whispered secrets were his stock in trade.So far, the rumors he overheard were vague, nebulous. A Marine-sponsored dive--well, of course, they weren't exactly strangers to the task. Recruiting foreigners--unusual, but not unheard-of; at best it indicated the mission was not important enough to dedicate actual Marine resources to. But if it wasn't important--why was the half the Koro abuzz with talk about it? At last he had found one of the fliers--'Name your reward.' What on Mata-Nui? What could possibly be worth that price? It hadn't taken long after that for a loose-lipped pair of guards to mention it--the Kumu Islets. Xa-koro. The City of Danger. Once home of countless thieves, killers, and madmen...now home to their secrets. Yes...that will be worth something. It will be worth something indeed. But would it be worth the risk? Pondering this decision, Diegol decides to make the best of both worlds and wait outside the Headquarters of the Ga-Koro Marines for more information--on this rumored dive, or anything else of interest.OOC: If anyone wants to interact with Diegol, PM me--I can get him pretty much anywhere other than Ko-Koro fairly easily. ;)

Edited by Flipz

 

Me: *has idea*

Blade: "I'd say too convoluted, and I know too convoluted =P"

 

"Dangit, I shouldn't have gotten ambitious."

--Merc, RE: our plotting

 

Pokémon Rise of the Rockets Profiles: LINK

3DS FC: 3625-9584-9417 (Pokemon X Friend Safari: Electric-type, Pachirisu, Electabuzz, Zebstrika)

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OOC: So yeah I felt like only the first half of the song was applicable in these posts. Instead I suggest "Remember Me" by Thomas Bergersen

 

IC: (Hari)

 

Those arms wrapped around her again, she had already been in them once before today. She turned about, leaning against his chest. It felt safe, and in some ways safer than she had ever felt in Krayn's arms. She sighed, knowing full well that such thoughts were unfair to Krayn and her friends, but he was so nice, so caring, so good. Her friends stood about, old wounds reopening as they looked over the destruction had been wrought on Tillian's home and their lives. It's amazing how something could be there one minute and the next it was gone. Casa Juturna, Emotia, their end so abrupt, so out of the blue. Each of those surviving marred by the loss of a person, a place, a time where everything felt good, like all was right with the world. That even in that even in the middle of the chaos that was Mata Nui, there was a place that could weather the storm.

 

Or so Hari had thought.

 

It wasn't some magical place that could last centuries, it was a house almost like any other and it had crumbled like any other when faced with a threat it could not weather, such as the raging inferno that had consumed it and Emotia. They were gone, and there was so little to remember them by, Emotia had recieved no proper ceremony, no formal acknowledgement of her passing until now. Perhaps Hari could do one thing for her deceased friend, give her something that would make it impossible for anyone to forget her beauty inside and out. Hold the memories of what was good about this place, about Emotia, not remember her death but remember her life. The joy she brought Tillian and all of them, all the laughing and the crying, the wedding and everything that showed what was right, what was good. What was worth remembering. Hari finally stopped crying, a smile found it's way onto Hari's lips. Her turquoise eyes met those mesmerizing blue eyes that pulled her in, made her feel they would all get through all of this.

 

"I think so. There's one final thing I need to do." Reluctantly Hari pulled herself away from her friend and walked a few feet away, kneeling down on the ground. She closed her eyes as her fingers dug into the cool, wet soil. Her mind focused on Emotia, on her figure, her gait, her eyes, her armor, her laughter, her voice every memory Hari could retrieve. Then she poured all the feeling into her power over the plants.

 

It started around Hari, flowers popped up and blossomed in front of her friends very eyes, then cascaded over the property like Spring in fast forward. All the flowers were of the same colors, the petals were that cobalt blue, the color of her mask, arms, and legs, the stigma the shade of her eyes, the sepals a beautiful baby blue, the color of her chest armor. After a few minutes the entire property was covered by this particular flower. Hari pulled herself up from the ground and turned to look at her friends.

 

Her smile was much wider now, and she wiped away the tears from her eyes.

 

"There, now we'll remember this place for all the good, for the love and friendships formed. For how we were all brought together and for the beauty of someone like Emotia." Hari went to take another step forward, but her eyes started to close as she tumbled forward, laying motionless on the ground.

 

She didn't get back up.

Edited by Master of Masks

gallery_99567_147_39590.jpg

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IC: Skyra

 

I had to pull my flute away from my lips, I could play no more without exhausting myself. I watched as Hari's powers caused flowers to pop up and blossomed, at first I thought they were simply going to be flowers, as a memorial. But as I noticed what colors they were, the baby blue, cobalt, that little bit of bright yellow...

 

I couldn't help but smile, it was Emotia, it looked just like her. What had been just charred remains of a home was now covered in beautiful flowers, together forming the shape of our late friend.

 

"There, now we'll remember this place for all the good, for the love and friendships formed. For how we were all brought together and for the beauty of someone like Emotia."

I nodded silently, my eyes getting even more moist than before. "It's really beautiful Hari..." I heard a small thump on the ground, my eyes quickly darted to Hari, who was now lying on the ground face first...and not moving.

 

"Hari!" Somehow I was the first to reach her, kneeling down beside the Toa of Plantlife and turning her over onto her back so she could breathe something other than sand. I put her head on my lap as I checked to see if she was breathing.

 

"Hari! Are you alright! Say something!"

363513066_tobecont.png.5b057f495e0794e9450207c84546738e.png
My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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IC: Naona

 

Put yourself in Naona's shoes.

 

You have just returned to a place that once held a special place in your heart. Casa Juturna was the setting of many of your happier memories, and seeing it in ruins hurts quite a bit. It had also been the home of your closest friends, and to know that they had died in the fire that ravaged the manor was even more depressing. You had always expected them to be together forever. To be in love together forever.

 

Then your protege; the girl you've known since she was little, the girl you consider a younger sister, decides to create a memorial to your deceased friend. It is a heartwarming gesture, but it is too extreme. Too much power, more power than your protege should ever have, is used on the memorial. You immediately think of berating her later for wasting so much energy, but then she collapses.

 

In a situation like yours, you are understandably very distraught.

 

You immediately drop down to check on her condition, right after Skyra. You know how dangerous using up so much power in one go can be. You beg for her to be okay.

 

You would never forgive yourself if she wasn't.

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IC:Gently, Skyra was pushed aside.

 

He looked up to see who it was that had moved him aside, and saw the same doctor that he had spoken with on the beach that same morning. Without a word, the Le-Toa knelt down next to the fallen Toa, turning her head, and resting her ear on Hari's chest. A moment passed before she raised her head again, satisfied that the Toa of Plantlife's breathing was regular and unobstructed. Two fingers were rested against her jugular, the doctor's lips moving slowly, silently, as she counted. Seventy eight beats in one minute, dead center of the acceptable range.

 

"She's fine. Just tired." The Le-Toa rocked back on her heels, surveying the gathered people. "I would give you all a lecture on element use, but I know none of you would listen.""Trust me, I've tried."

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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(Daylaria-Marine HQ)

 

"I see. What physical skills do you possess? Is there anything you're specifically good at?" She asked, still smiling. She poured herself more tea, obviously a bit thirstier than normal.

BZPRPG Profiles

IC:

"It comes with the job," Halfimus explained, "I'm not paid enough to give anything outside quick flavour descriptions."

So pay me more AuRon.

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IC:Kurkai

 

"That's it!" I said to my driver of my boat. As we approached the island I wondered, would my turaga be there. I mean, I had been here once before, but that was a year ago, after I set off into the sea. Still, maybe I was looking in the wrong place, maybe he was under my nose the entire time. We docked the boat, and I set out to find someone who could give me some information...

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TANNOHK-KAL FTW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! In a world filled with peace,

one shadow will spark a war

My epic, Shadow Destiny: http://www.bzpower.com/board/index.php?showtopic=10089

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IC: Skyra

 

I relaxed a little when the doctor said Hari would be fine, and now that wasn't panicking, I could sense Hari's breathing, strong and healthy as ever.

 

With that out of the way, their was only one question remaining, who was this doctor person? And why did she seem to be following us around?

 

I looked up at the other Le-Toa. "You've tried before?" At this point, I was pretty sure I knew who it was, but then Tillian said it wasn't her. But it had to be her! Right?

 

I shook my head a bit, I was overthinking this. If it was her, she'd reveal that fact when she was ready, I wasn't gonna pry.

363513066_tobecont.png.5b057f495e0794e9450207c84546738e.png
My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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IC: Shadd

"Well, archaeology. I am quite physically fit, due to the trail blazing I have had to do, and have strong lungs, which I am certain will come in handy in diving. My swimming skills are decent, I have good night-vision from spending much time underground, and, being a Ko-Matoran, am resistant to the cold."

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

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IC: Diegol (Outside Marine HQ)As he sat, Diegol was gratified to see how many gazes passed right over him without really registering his appearance. Glad to see it still works out here, he thought, his mouth forming a slight grin as he remembered. Still, he thought, there was that one who did notice me...who did remember. Led to some of my better work, actually. Wonder if she's still working here? If nothing else, she'll at least know more about what's going on here.Getting up with his seat, he walks across the street to the Headquarters, arriving just as a Ga-Matoran guard happened to open the door. "Excuse me," Diegol asks, "I'm here to see an old ally. Is Captain Iraira in?"


 

Me: *has idea*

Blade: "I'd say too convoluted, and I know too convoluted =P"

 

"Dangit, I shouldn't have gotten ambitious."

--Merc, RE: our plotting

 

Pokémon Rise of the Rockets Profiles: LINK

3DS FC: 3625-9584-9417 (Pokemon X Friend Safari: Electric-type, Pachirisu, Electabuzz, Zebstrika)

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IC:

 

Hahli chewed this over for a second before returning the same polite smile and turning back to her Marines, holding their hands gently with her own nimble fingers and weaving them up and down.

 

"Ladies, be sure our guests are given the utmost attention," she said amiably. "They're probably tired. Bring them out to eat somewhere. Give them a chance to rest. Be sure the Ussals are tended to as well."

 

With matching, gentle smiles and a low "Yes, Akiri," the Marines led the Ussalmatoran off and Hahli turned back to the rest of the convoy, now standing alone without Guard but looking just as at ease as she had seconds before. With a beckon, she motioned for the three to follow her and they moved as one solid unit towards her hut. She had moved aside some of her copious amounts of paperwork and had actually gone to the lengths of acquiring chairs for each member of the convoy; she maneuvered through the hut and sat behind her own pulling up to her desk and giving the three Onu-Matoran her full attention as they sat.

 

"Gentlemen," she greeted again, just as warm away from prying eyes as she was in front of them. "I do hope our Koros can be of proper service to each other once again."

 

*****

 

IC:

 

Meanwhile, across the Koro, a certain Toa of Ice was awoken by the soft sound of a voice that ran through one ear, swirled around his head, then drained out the other like purest brook water; the peaceful voice and the chuckle it came with were an odd, almost laughable contrast to the protested groan of Reordin Maru as he sat up in the hammock and got his bearings on the world around him, which had so rudely interrupted his slumber. He looked over to his left and saw Leah chilling out next to him, already leaps and bounds ahead of him in terms of wakefulness, and he smirked back at her, the corners of his mouth barely reaching up to his icy, clear eyes.

 

"Morning. Or afternoon. Whichever's applicable. Neither would surprise me."

 

-Tyler

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC:

"Indeed," Korsu smiled back. "And may our bonds of trust ever strengthen." It was a nicety Wiremu wasn't sure Korsu meant sincerely, but it was one that the little engineer neglected to comment on. He merely readjusted in the chair, a bamboo thing very unlike his engineering stool. Wiremu noticed that Hofi was looking around the hut, as if examining its structural soundness; once a miner, always a miner, Wiremu reflected. Korsu was the last of the Onu-Matoran to sit, and he gestured to the other two politely.

 

"Before we continue, Akiri, let me please introduce my companions. To my right is Hofi; he is here as a scribe, so that our own Akiri will have an accurate recording of our conversation. Hofi will be recording what we say on that task pad of his." On cue, albeit slightly flustered, Hofi pulled out his pad and began to scrawl away at it, the little pen in his hand recording his handwriting on the screen. "He won't say a word, don't mind him. To my left is Wiremu," Korsu went on. "He's the technological consultant."

 

Wiremu nodded politely to the Ga-Matoran, avoiding more than fleeting eye contact. He'd always been a bit shy, and he hated himself for it. "Hello, Akiri Hahli," he said, looking away.

 

Hahli, if she was offended by his attitude, was gracious enough not to show it. Wiremu felt himself go a bit red; Korsu ignored this as he continued to speak. "Wiremu is here to tell us if what you're asking for is going to be possible; you did, after all, send a communication to Akiri Nuparu about a transaction. So," he said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands, "Would you prefer to discuss your side or our side of the bargain first?"

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IC:Ga-Koro was as peaceful and serene as the bay on which it was built. Light reflected off of the cerulean water, playing across the huts on the coast, and the faces of the populace. Fishermen hauled in their catches, unloading their boats on the docks amidst yells of congratulations and triumph. It was, after all, the best fishing season that had been enjoyed for decades. With Makuta gone, the infected Rahi no longer sought to keep them from the most plentiful regions, and the fish were free to breed and prosper as they wished. The greenhouses, commissioned just after the Makuta's fall, produced medicine and food by the plenty. Market prices were the lowest they'd ever been, the sheer abundance of product bringing costs down.

 

The village was in its prime. It was vibrant and full of life, flourishing under the Akiri's watchful eye. Hahli herself was fair and just, the beloved leader of the populace, with all the warmth Nokama had possessed, but tempered with the steely resolve of a protector. The village was safe, it was healthy, it was prosperous.

 

And it was so boring.

 

Crime was minimal, and it was hardly anything interesting. Petty theft, the occasional murder, but nothing interesting. Run of the mill things. Envy, greed, jealousy, all the impulses that plagued the sentient races. There was no pattern, no brilliance. The last truly entertaining event had been the attempted assassination, and even that had resolved itself far too quickly. The assassins had been nothing special. Simple submissive and dominant partnership. Nothing even challenging. Ever since Makuta fell, things had been so dull. The fanatics had all faded into the background, and they took their unique quirks and behaviors with them. Nothing interesting ever happened anymore.

 

Bang!

 

Idly, the Vortixx examined the bullet now lodged in his wall. The shot had been right on target, the trajectory exactly as he had envisioned it. It was too perfect. Nothing unpredictable, nothing random, no curious behaviors... Well, His theories on ballistics were proven right. Yet again. Slowly, he set his revolver back down on the table, reaching instead for his datapad. With a few taps he had keyed in his pass code, not bothering to look around him. In his study, there was never anyone else to disturb him, After verifying the code, the screen went instantly to a simple directory; case files, references, photos, notes. The first was an amalgamation of the others; each case's notes were inventoried and linked to the relevant case, photos were moved to the correct folder, and the reference materials used to solve the case listed at the very bottom.

 

The last case was dated only three days prior, the assassination. The case before that, a double homicide with only one body present, was dated a week before, and the case before that dated just before the Makuta's fall. That one had been interesting, a Matoran convinced they were a Shadow-walker, serving some kind of higher moral standard. Delusional, of course, but interesting just the same. She had provided some useful data for his ongoing study of how popular beliefs and culture could influence the mind. But alas, that one had ended too quickly; believing herself a crusader for good, she had preferred to die than fall into the hands of the "blind masses", and risk divulging information about her people. Terrible mess, that was.

 

But the simple fact is, that nothing was happening these days. The political intrigue amounted to naught, the criminals were unimaginative, and there was no conflict. It was a veritable utopia. And that was a terrible, terrible thing. For when the chaos is gone, when the spice of life has ceased to act, what is left? Nothing but a dreary, day to day existence as the mind slowly atrophies away, becoming nothing more than the tool one uses to decide between eating and sleeping, or sleeping and then eating.

 

But that was the thing about utopias; they didn't last. Because as much as people chose to see the best in others, the best outcome is rarely the case. Because all it takes is one mistimed fit of anger, one ill-planned action, and that utopian world is shattered in a mess of blood and gore. There would always be those who lost their temper, but theirs are brief, boring conflicts, No, the true chaos comes when one has a purpose. An ideal. Something they're fighting for, and willing to kill for. That was where the interesting moments occurred, the defining instants where one could see another's mind laid out before them, their ideals stripped to their very essentials, and one could see what truly drove them. The revelation more often than not goes unnoticed in one's own life, because one cannot face themselves with honesty, because one is always afraid. Afraid that their lofty ideal is no more than a glorified excuse.

 

But even beyond them, there are the people that just get bored. The people that plan the perfect crime for one reason, and one reason only; because they can. They care not about the why, all that matters is their assertion of dominance, of proving that they can do it. For beings such as they, the joy lies in the means, not in the end that they are supposed to serve.

 

This utopia would pass, and the world would once again fascinate him. But until then... The Vortixx turned to his mailbox, leafing through the subscriptions, scanning for anything that caught his eye. Multiple murders in Le-Koro, mysterious disappearances in Onu-Koro, Po-Koro's true intentions in their visits, someone blew up the monorail in Ta-Koro... The last two weren't worth thinking about; the guard would handle the latter, and the politics meant little. The first two, however... Without looking back at his pad, he started two new case files, photographing the news articles, and filing them away. They could be looked into later.

 

He stood, slipping his revolver into its holster and his datapad into his bag. With efficient, measured footsteps he moved from his study to the front hall, passing by the Turaga's trident leaning against the wall, he still needed to hang that up, and the packed bookshelves. Stepping out the front door, he began striding towards the village proper. If there was nothing interesting in the news, he would have to seek it out himself.

 

Perhaps he would even settle for a simple murder.

 

OOC: Vos is open for interaction of any kind, if anyone requires it.

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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: Voutok"FINALLY, another Matoran who actually knows what they're doing and can theoretically hold their own."Voutok, too, was pleased with this applicant. He didn't seem to be over-zealous, he wasn't in it for wealth, and he had skills that were quite practically appreciated in this type of operation. He did not hide this in his gestures to the Commander from behind the Ko-Matoran.

Behind this sucky post count, a writer and hardcore RPer lies in wait of a reason to post...

 

For those who will likely ask when reading some of my non-RP posts: for me, "*shot*' = "I know that what I said was something stupid and I am acknowledging this before people think I'm serious."

 

Oh yeah, and my current BZPRPG character bio can be found here.

 

"Why...me? Oh yeah, that's right. I'm weak. I'm of a minority, a minority of people with a common trait: we hear too much. And what we're supposed to hear hurts to hear. When I'm alone in a silent room, I can hear a pebble dropping from a mile away. I can hear a motor boat being started up several yards off the coast. A whisper from outside, I can hear as if they were talking right at me. An explosion in another koro, I hear as if it's just outside. Sounds useful, right?"

"Wrong."

"It's a curse, if you ask me. The same pen dropping inside this aforementioned silent room would ring in my ears. If I stood by the same motor, I'd get a headache. The same whisper would ring in my ear like two metal beams being slammed together in front of my face. The same explosion would render me deaf for years...thank the Spirit I thought of getting me something to dampen the noise, or I'd end up like the rest of my kind..."

 

~Voutok S'Tythe; unknown date, unknown location

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IC(Daylaria-Marine HQ)

 

"Alright, and my last two questions:" another sip of tea, "do you have any combat skills, and what do you want as reward?"

BZPRPG Profiles

IC:

"It comes with the job," Halfimus explained, "I'm not paid enough to give anything outside quick flavour descriptions."

So pay me more AuRon.

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IC: Aar

"Please, take me somewhere less bright," the Ussalmatoran politely asked his Ga-Matoran escort. "Maybe somewhere to get a drink."

 

He was led to The Great Takea. The inside was about as bright as a hut in Onu-Koro, a lighting he was familiar enough with to be comfortable in. "Thank you. You don't need to worry about me anymore." The Marine gave him a nod and headed outside to whatever duties awaited her. The Onu-Matoran ordered a light drink and some Bula to replenish his energy.

 

The air pressure here was uncomfortable too. He never had any reason to come to the surface. Now he somewhat wished he still didn't. This was most certain not his element. But he gave none of his thoughts away as he drank and ate. He was in the Ussalry now, the toughest sons-of-kavinika on Mata Nui were his comrades. A pox on him if he let a day on the surface get him off his A-game.

 

IC: Shadd

"I'm nothing special in combat. A so-so shot with a disk, though I can hold my own reasonably with a spear or other melee weapon. I usually rely on others for protection while at work, see. As for a reward, we'll have to discuss that once we see what we've found. I may want to bring some of the spoils back for placement in a museum in Ko or Onu-Koro. Any payment you offer on top of that would be welcome. You're men and women of honest work, so I trust you'll give a fair price."

Edited by Draezeth

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

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IC: Iraanus rose quickly, stepping between Vhohan and the door to block the other Skakdi's exit. "Leaving already?" he growled. "Sorry, I don't think that's gonna work out." He nodded in Rhow's direction. "Give Rhow your weapons. If you behave, you'll get them back. Probably."

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IC: Vhohan

The Skakdi turned. He looked at them, and unstrapped the gun from his back. Vhohan dropped in to the floor, and kicked it over to Rhow. "Now, I have my hand-blade, but I can't remove that, can I?"

I used to have a banner here.



But that RPG is dead.



What now?

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IC:
The Marines had led the escort party to a small, out of the way establishment. This being Ga-Koro, even the smaller businesses were pleasant and prosperous, and the staff received their visitors warmly and with open arms. Aar made his way to a seat, ordering a drink, and resting his eyes. The miner wasn't used to the sun, so moving to a less illuminated environment was a great respite for him. Gavarm had done something similar, taking a seat at the bar itself, sipping at something that looked rather more... Potent. The rest of their party had likewise dispersed to their pursuits, whether they they be conversing with their Marine counterparts, or simply resting in a dim section of the room.
Except one.
Standing rigidly, almost at attention, at the back of the room was Tarnok. The Onu-Matoran was alert, silent, and stoic. The Marine that had led him there had long since given up trying to strike up a conversation with him, instead turning her attention to the other occupants of the establishment. Perhaps that was as it should be. The Ussalry was here on business, not matters of pleasure. It was their job to be attentive and alert, lest their charges run into trouble. And yet, they had been sent away. It was frustrating. Did they all forget that the lack of guard presence had cost Whenua his life? That the presence of even one more guard might have forestalled that tragedy?
Silently, he sipped at a glass of water that sat on the table next to him, before setting it back down. It was the only drink he would accept, and even then after much insistence from his fellows. But even now, attentive as he was, his attention was elsewhere. One day before they had departed, the Ussalry had completed its reforms. The higher-ups had been working to reorganize the system ever since the Makuta's fall, and they had finally finished their work. Leli had officially transferred from the Gukko Force to the Ussalry, being set as the head of the Light Cavalry division. Spec Ops was, unsurprisingly, led by a veteran member. Gavarm himself had been promoted to head of the Heavy Cavalry division, which made him Tarnok's superior multiple times over. It was... A strange feeling. Only months before, the other Matoran had been Tarnok's equal, and later the deputy of his squadron. Much had changed since then.
But at the same time, nothing had. When the reforms took affect, countless slips had been passed out, notifying formerly low-ranking Ussalmatoran of their transference or promotion. The Rahkshi assault had wiped out many of their numbers, and as such, they had needed to pass out promotions. But in the wake of it all. Tarnok himself had received only one notice; Ussalry Seventh's termination.
With its commander promoted to division head, one of its remaining number in a coma, and its former commander now the realm's Toa Maru, they had decided that it was not worth it to recruit and retrain the group. Instead, they had simply placed it on a blacklist. The notice had been without ceremony, silently deposited in his mailbox at the headquarters with not even a glance. Not a shred of respect, not a moment's thought for its passing. Ussalry Seventh no longer existed, nothing more than a footnote in the annals of history. Only one thing guaranteed it even that. Sulov's heroics were all written down, recorded with the greatest care, including his time as commander. But there was no memorial for those under his command. Kol Uskey was remembered only in their minds, Uyism nothing more than a descriptor for a medical bill. Rubigo had followed his true passion, and joined the engineers. As for Tarnok himself... His reputation was small, in the grand scheme of things. The villagers respected him, but not for what he was. They respected him for holding the line, carrying the torch, until Sulov could step up to do what he must. He was a flag-bearer.
And perhaps, that was as it should be, too. He had done nothing truly worthy of note, no deed that warranted recognition. But he could not help but feel... Insignificant. They had ignored him once again. They had taken his comrades from him, and worst of all, they had taken the one thing he had left; Ussalry Seventh. Now, he answered to another commander, a newly promoted Matoran fresh off of his victory at the Makuta's fall. And even beyond that, he answered to his former comrades. He was a pawn, a soldier. A number in their calculations.
He had endeavored to do his Duty. He had fought to protect Onu-Koro, as he had always done, even when no one else would. He had been there when all others were gone, he had called for aid when his own village would give him none. He had lost comrades, he had lost friends, in the name of his Duty, and he had done it in silence. Because that was what the village demanded of its protectors. It was what the village deserved.
Was this his Destiny? A conflict eternal, a never-ending struggle, for which he would be asked again and again to sacrifice? Even in defeat, that conflict had taken everything from him. It had stripped him of his comrades, for it he had shed blood, it had stripped him of even his only true source of pride. It had take from him his squadron. All he had was his Duty.
And he would never forsake it. He would never give up on that responsibility, he would never abandon his village. But no matter how hard he tried, he could never do his Duty well enough. He was still just a soldier, still just a tool to be wielded, no matter how hard he tried. No, he was less than that. He was nothing. He was as he had always been; the shadow of Seventh's greatness. Perhaps the village treated him exactly as he should be; the reserve, the torch-bearer. For that was all he had done. When others were unable, he had taken up the responsibility. He had kept his village safe.
But what was there left for him to do? Sulov had arrived to be the village's protector. Gavarm and Leli had been given the power to protect the village from threats external and internal, no matter what they were. The Le-Matoran in particular had taken to her job with zeal, finding a place to stay closer to headquarters. His village was never better defended, never safer. So why, then, did he feel so aimless?
Was that his Destiny? To act as the stopgap, the support that his fellows might ascend to be what they needed to be? Now that he had done that, was his purpose over? Was that the end of his path, the end of his usefulness?
Slowly, the Onu-Matoran shook his head, draining the last of his water. Such thoughts were meaningless. Pointless. His pride did not matter, his own Destiny was insignificant, in the grand scheme of things. His village was safe. That was all that truly mattered.

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

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: Aar

The drink was very different from anything Onu-Koro offered. Slightly salty on top of the sweetness. It didn't quite sit well on his tongue. Probably an acquired taste. After a couple swallows, he pushed it aside and finished his Bula.

 

Like Tarnok- though he had no way of knowing that- he, too, was feeling slightly useless, though for more immediate reasons. He was glad he wasn't standing guard outside a hut, but it beat idling in foreign territory. He shook his head a little. Being in the Ussalry had quickly made him militaristic. He had no great love for Matoran of other Koro, but he shouldn't consider them strangers, or their territory foreign. Unity, Unity.

 

He grimaced at his cup and got up. Blinking in the sunlight, he stepped outside. Might as well familiarize himself with life up-top. Maybe he wouldn't feel quite so out-of-place then.

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

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