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About Razgriz

Year 11
  • Rank
    Defender of Mata Nui Defeated
  • Birthday 08/25/1996

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    dragging casuals to fridgetanamo
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    freeing joe son

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  1. IC Long Shunkyou (The Outskirts of Dastana Republic Territory, Odaiba): He in turn, seeing the offered peace, made no show of turning it down. "That's good. My Sana isn't half of what it once was. Medicine will do much more paired with it than either could manage apart— Lii," he called, gruffly waving the aforementioned Menti forward, young Yu still perched atop her muscular back. "Help me get those with fractures to the front. They're the ones who the walk is bearing down upon the hardest." After a moment, scanning his charges, he turned back to face the Eiyu sisters. For a brief glimpse, not more than a flash, he allowed the weathering to show on his face. "You've my gratitude— I'll personally ensure your safe passage the rest of the way, so long as these kids make it to safe ground." With a breath, he let it pass back under his usual composure, nobility and duty guiding his bearing. "Until Koshiki is rid of this pestilence, it appears we are more than ever destined to meet and live amongst your people. I am not in the business of letting debts hang over our heads— nor am I keen on being blind to my neighbors."
  2. IC: Kellin, ever helpful, snorted. "I bet we coulda blown him—her—Makuta up real nice if we'd had any idea all that was even coming. I've got—" Aaaaand paused, And looked for a moment at Leli, bedazzled and bejeweled and only somewhat beleaguered by the journey, now about six seconds shorter ever since her escapades at the edge of the city of lilypads. Luckily, he'd convinced her to chuck the package into the drink before their destinies came at a depressingly quick turnaround from their previous, currently-discussed destinies. "I had enough Stralix to blow anything that smirks at me like that sky-high to meet the makers themselves. Big Judicious just had other ideas for us." "Tell you what, though—" he continued, letting naked, performative surliness creep into his tone. "It just goes to show that when big Kell comes a-knockin', even Toa get scared. I bet you my bottom widget the six of us coulda done damage."
  3. IC: Cipher - The Rockwall The streak of searing sunlight tore through the calm blue skies, impossible to miss if you were anywhere short of being blind. There was no chance my little signal flare wouldn't garner a reaction from the Marines posted on the fortifications at any point in living memory— let alone within these tense few weeks that passed since Ko's invasion and subsequent recapturing. "Be seeing you." And if it somehow didn't, the Toa of Sand wearing my Calix that'd promptly leapt outta the brush and started hollering at the aforementioned Stationed-on-Posting sure would. I waited a few moments for his words to float through the air between us and my destination, delivered with enough bombast to blow those iron gates wide open— and the showmanship he'd treated me to nearly out of the water, to boot. Three. Then a faint sigh, followed by a costernation-filled Ga-Koro accent. He'd gotten their attention enough for a dialogue— Two. And attention enough for me. One. A spray of sea foam, and a crash of parting water erupted from the bay as he really worked to seal it. We're live, folks. Let's jam. I narrowed my eyes and focused, squinting them at a point just atop the dome-shaped roof of the light chamber itself, high overhead of the many stone bricks that made for fortification, and by consequence the disgruntled Marines posted within and upon them. Now, I'd never used a Kualsi in my life, as previously stated, but once you learn the method of activation for one Kanohi, I was pretty sure you'd learned them all. The effect's strength is a product of conscious determination, but activation was like using a muscle or remembering a tune. In my case, I cocked back the hammer in the recesses of my brain that functioned for purposes of breaking realty's rules, took a single breath longer to get the feeling of where I wanted to end up down, and pulled an invisible trigger. We all have our metaphors for it. ffft-POP And I was once there, suddenly here. It kind of felt like my stomach was turning upside down, maybe in the same way freefall does, but that was fine. More than a worthy trade-off for suddenly ignoring an easy few hundred yards of distance all told. That said, this wasn't the easiest ride in the world, either— I had my own work to do to keep this adventurous little romp from turning slapstick. My left hand shot out to the side, grabbing hold of the metallic flagpole as my feet touched the weathered metal of the rooftop, the main line of defense against a season's worth of storms. It took'em a second to find purchase, given the structure— mostly smooth curves made for a fun balancing act. But, I'm not a rookie, and I've also been in enough stupid incidents near the village of water's architecture (at least twice) to not flail around like a newborn up here. I pivoted to the other side, switching grips on the flagpole-and-weathervane as the turn on my heel kept me in place. I shoulda seen it coming, but that warp had kept my bearing the same. No idea if it was due to my own ignorance or just by design of the mask, but that moment of adjustment had probably given my partner down there ample time to verify that I'd gotten up here as he'd conjured up an arm of wet sand from the shallows below. Buffeted a little towards the center by the wind, I shot my guy a brash thumbs-up with my free hand, before dropping into a low crouch. I've also had experience with fighting breezes. Won't say how or why. If you know, you know. Before anything else, though, I needed to make sure I wasn't going to be dropping into a whole cadre of now-extremely-annoyed Marines guarding the giant lantern itself— I'm not dumb enough to think that my entrance was totally silent, just dumb enough to think that a lot of light and a lot of sound in the other direction could mask it, provided a culprit looked like they were there to source it. I crept forward in my new low profile, gazing out over the side back onto the scene with Verak and the Marines, and checking for sound, sight, or sign that I had a few of my own to worry about up here. Or the better way to put it— how many were up here, worrying about me.
  4. IC: (Dastana Republic Odaiba Encampment - Fort Kizuno) "Conquering Evil, not the Opponent, is the Essence of Swordsmanship." ——— I was shaken awake roughly that day. I hadn't come to until my body felt itself hoisted into the air by someone strong. All around me, I beheld a scene painted in crimson, orange, yellow, and black. Like paint dashed onto a canvas by someone who held no care in their heart for what came out as the picture. Maybe they didn't care for the picture to begin with, either. I didn't know. I still don't know. Am I ever going to know? I don't know. What I do know is that this place looked like the mouth of the mountain that loomed over me, a hazy triangle of black. If the stories about it were true, then no doubt about it. The field I was in was burning badly, all the crops were either blackened ash or blackening embers. A little ways off, close enough that I assume I'd just been there, a big house was falling to pieces, covered in angry red. Thunderously, it crashed to the earth, but I didn't hear anything beyond splitting wood. No voices, just blaze. That was scary. It's scary being the only person you hear when everything is this red. I tried to remember if there was another person beyond me and this strong Menti that had grabbed me. Had I walked? Had I walked out of that house, a beneficiary of some strange favor by fate? Had I walked out the front gate, past black and red shapes that r mi ed m of y s f? W s I e o ly n o surv ve? survive. Survive. I had to do that. I did not want to be like that house. That was dangerous. ———That would mean I didn't do my duty to live, since I was allowed to over those people. I would be squandering a gift. All I breathed in was smoke. It tasted like the air itself was burning, had been burning, and had been burning for a very long time. It was like a thick blanket over my whole body, cooking me like bread in a Ringti's oven. Did bread feel this way when it was made? I should be kinder to bread. I looked to the sky, numb. I couldn't breathe like this. The person who'd grabbed ahold of me couldn't either. I don't think so, at least. Her mouth was covered by something long and green, but it was getting greyer and blacker by the second. A clan sash, I think. What was green? But there's no hope for either of us. The collapsing house fell onto the only path I could have taken to get here, and we were surrounded by the tall grass in the fields that looked like a big red wall. Trapped. Nowhere to run. Of course not. There was no way I could survive this. There was no hope. Even a child understood that much. In the end, I sighed, but it was more like a slow cough. The person yelled something to me in a hoarse voice, but I didn't remember what it was. They were running towards the flames. Getting it over with, I guess. I couldn't stop them. My body had no strength of its own to do that. I don't think the smoke helped either. So I felt the haze creeping into my mind, and quietly murmured that it was unfair. That was the least I could do for those people. The strong lady reached forward, defiant of the flames. We were about to get burned. If she had this much left, couldn't she ditch me and save herself? I was weighing her down. We drew up to the curtain of fire, and my world went not black, but white. Like a closing bottlecap, the numbness spiraled over my vision, spreading out to cover all form, all shape, all of the world I was leaving behind. And there at the center, just before it all washed out— ——there was a shining, perfect sword—— ———of all blue. ————— That was when I was still just a girl. So long ago. I was part of a miracle. I had witnessed a miracle. I had witnessed a miraculous person. They told me I was one too. I don't know what I am. But I couldn't deny that I was alive. Miracles only happen once. It's a lonely thing. I knew that much, too. I was alone. I'm dreaming. But like every dream you ever have, once you realize you are— "Every kid needs someone to look after them." That same woman spoke when my wounds had healed. She'd been wounded too. Way worse than me. Her voice was strange. Strong, but delicate. Nice, but rough. I decided I liked it, making me strange too. I remember a smile. It made me feel like looking at a blue sky, even though it was raining cats and dogs out there. out where? "I'm no good with speaking in roundabout terms, so just... come stay with me. Alright?" I had no idea if it was a good idea, but... I wanted that smile too. I nodded. Beaming, she ripped off a piece of that green and grey cloth she'd been wearing. She handed that dingy scrap to me, wrapping it around my thin wrist in a knot. "Then, I guess that makes you one of us." "I'm Ageru Sasaki. That'd make you—" "Ageru Shiki." I said it with pride. ———I wake up. The early morning sunlight is filling the room I've been sleeping in. "Sleeping in" for certain. I think I stayed up too late training. My body is stiff everywhere. I yawn. I'm usually up and about by daybreak. By my guess, dawn came a couple of hours ago by now. I'm needed by then, before then even, most of the time; but things have recently slacked a little. I guess that's why I'm only just now feeling the chill of the air as someone comes through my home to get me. It's another Dasaka, clad in mottled green robes as opposed to the usual crystalline armoring. She's a good friend of mine, but I know this is a bother, so I make sure to pull myself together, slapping the cheeks of my Kiril twice so the cold air stings my face a bit more to rouse my brain from dozing off. She snickers a bit at the display, probably amused but definitely in a good mood. "You should sleep in more often, Shiki. Bleary's a fun look." "Thanks, Yumiri. I'm awake now, all good to go." Kiril. That Kanohi's the secret weapon of mine that makes me so useful on the walls after nighttime. Not for guarding anything, despite my being a Menti— No, I'm best suited to repair things. I'm still very much in training. I have been my whole life. Speaking of which, I'm gonna have to truncate mine today. "That's me off, then! Catch you later, babe!" Yumiri flashes me a wink and a thumbs up, and saunters off, activating her Huna. She just came back from a scouting trip, so if she's still chipper and not pressing me, we're not expecting anything for the next couple of days. I guess that also is implied by the fact that she has free time to do favors to begin with— chances are the reconstruction foreman asked where in Zuto Nui's name her best asset was. Either way, she's out of my little spot in Kizuno's crammed walls for sure once her shadow leaves the doorway. Why's that girl sneaking around so much here, anyway? It isn't like she isn't worth seeing. Ah, whatever. I don't have any right to judge for being weird. Just like me, I bet she's just trying to get better at her craft as one of the clan's scouts. I roll up the futon against the wall beside me, and begin my pushups. A hundred or so should get me warmed up for the day, nothing crazy. I'll cut my crunches in half to fifty, too. Can't waist too much time. Wait, that was a blunder. It's "waste." This too is a waste. Wasting time. Time to get after it and clear the cobwebs for real. ... After half an hour of exercise and a skipped breakfast thanks to some necessary rationing, I head to the outer wall, crystal shards and other tools in hand. The damage really isn't as bad as it had been beforehand. A few weeks ago, it felt like I'd basically been building whole sections from scratch, but to day it's just a few scrapes on the wood and holes to plug. That's what the crystal is for. At one such hole, about as big as my fist, I find some evidence of charring— Laser Vision came around while I was asleep? Not good. But I can fix this. It takes some careful chiseling and carving to get the blackened, cauterized wood clear. I've learned a lot of these things from taking care of the house I'd have normally awoken in ages ago on my own— my mother passed a while back, but even before then, I basically managed keeping everything in good shape. That included the two of us. I miss breakfasts, but it's a necessary evil right now. I'm basically a refugee. We lost my town of Mahuika to the enemy at the gates. My house might not be there any more, but I'm going to tell myself it is. Now that I've got raw wood exposed again, I set the shard of crystal into the hole's center, and my Kanohi glows ultramarine. Broken off of a larger geode as it was, "regenerating" the crystal in effect regrew it at a controlled rate— turning a shard into a workable patch in the span of a quarter of a minute. The raw wood, once the geode penetrated it, would reshape itself the grip the puncture— a lot like a nail, really. I yawn. Wow. I thought I was supposed to be less tired after getting more sleep. Four hours is usually fine. And if I'm yawning, I can't imagine what Yumiri or the Menti on these walls are trying to grit out. All the more reason I gotta get this stuff done while I can, I reckon. It'll hold in the place of more wood. Too many of those aforementioned Menti were needed to guard the fort for us to dispatch a logging party. I should be one of them by now, but I'm still no good at it yet. I take a few minutes more to shave and chisel down the interior growth that's gone past the inner ramparts, until it's satisfyingly flush with the wood that remains. That way, nobody gets hurt by big jagged rocks sticking out of the wall they're manning. While I train, this is what I can do. The solitary work helps me focus, anyway. I stand up, and move onto the next section. There's still plenty of wall left to go.
  5. man what did they do to deserve this they just liked doing kung fu at altitude
  6. IC: Movement. "Mostly Lava Rats! They burrow under the roots and come out at low light!" Even in the midst of his conversation, Jol had been sure to keep his wits about him and not laser in all of his focus onto the newcomer— tunnel visioning had gotten him nearly killed about a dozen times already in a jungle much lusher than this. To get caught unawares now woulda been so embarrassing he'd die, even if they didn't kill him. His senses were thusly on a hair trigger— After the movement, in the span of moments, light! That's right, these were Skakdi, they had all sorts of weird eye-beams to worry about! —or what passed for one, these days. The Toa of Magnetism's guard raised, shelling up behind forearms and elbows as the crown of his skull received an impact like a punch from... himself with the Pakari, really. His feet had been in stance, luckily, and it was only by a few inches that he'd been knocked back by the sudden blow, silt beneath him sliding out from beneath the soles of his feet. He'd been lucky the user in question had aimed for the head, but he felt no comfort from his fortune. Rather, I've been in the city too long. ####it, I shoulda seen those two way before now. Rusty? Dulled by boredom? Already losing a step by becoming too used to that same routine he was whining about earlier? Tough to say which exactly, but none of them were good signs in the slightest. However. He gazed through his guard, looking down through the brow as his chin had safely dipped behind his leader shoulder and forearm. Sure enough, the two Skakdi were sitting dead ahead, flanked at either side by the burnt-out treeline. In current tandem as they were, they had their elemental abilities at play— something he frankly lacked. Sure, in theory he could guide the short sword (Guard-Issue) at his hip by its metal point into one of them, but that level of control... What the karz is that swinging in from the right si— He drew the sword from its sheathe as he stepped in to the dark shape, intercepting its arc, and hacked downward as a branch swayed way too far from what should have been the end of its reach, nearly raking itself across his Kanohi. The blade smashed through roughly, strength more than any real cutting power doing the work as the now dead wood fell to the Earth. ...Wasn't in the cards. He just didn't have the fine-tuning necessary— same as everything else, he'd need to get on the inside. He was pretty sure he could get an edge there. He had to close this gap between them. That branch was dead now... It'd put something in their faces, even if he didn't really hurt 'em with it. He could move in behind that, and chew up some of this ground. His Pakari shone as he gripped the fallen branch. It was an awkward, oblong thing, weirdly balanced and not at all a proper projectile. Normally he wouldn't be confident in getting it terribly far at all, even as strong as he'd trained his body to be— "Hrn-RAH!" But what if he was way stronger? To the point where that sorta worry didn't matter? As the branch sailed in the direction of the Ash Lads, the martial artist surged forward into a flat-out charge as he stormed towards his preferred range of "right on top of the bad guys, where he could get his hands on them". All he needed to do was that much, and this was as good as over. The sword in his hand, taken without much regard for whether or not he knew its technique (a monumental sin, looking back) already felt a little more familiar to him as he held it closer to a machete, or knife, or hammer. This was why he signed up for it— if he really had been softened up, this sort of thing would whip him back into shape. Shake the cobwebs out. Karz, he kinda hoped they'd hit him again.
  7. IC Long Shunkyou (The Outskirts of Dastana Republic Territory, Odaiba): His mind accepted the link after a moment, and Saritsu felt the borders of licking flame that surrounded his mental space, buffeting her diplomatic thoughts with raw Will, recede back into embers as the Acting Head cooled his heart. His control over his spirit was fine as ever, doubtless, but the strength of his defenses were by no means the impenetrable bonfire they had been as a Menti. Whether it was for this reason that he seemed to rankle somewhat, or to her seeming prostration... was difficult to tell. Perhaps not even he was certain, as the cinders in his Mind swirled around them in a dance more emotive than threatening or imprisoning. "T'ull a'jaar, Miss." he responded vocally, a show of good faith for all in attendance, before returning to the mental plane with his rustic and charred Thoughts. .:I know when I am being patronized, young Eiyu girl. You need not lay it on so thickly— we are not the many horsemen who squabbled with your 'empire' so many years prior.:. It seemed he needed to explain to the Eiyu girl, whose Thoughts were quite clear— enough that he had caught the image of her awkward grin as opposed to simply an impression, or tone. Was this a clan that specialized in this method of communication? Curious. But moreso was the spot of status the Toroshu girl, Nihonei. had allowed to slip in her speech. They too journeyed west, their home lost and clan in shambles? ...Hmph. .:Rest assured. Lii is an adherent of the Rage, and it flows through her blood as it does her spirit. Hotheaded she may be, but her grudge and story are hers to bear, not our clan's. So long as we speak behind no veils, I will be amenable. As you said, the months have been trial for all on Odaiba, and as your sister said, I do have wounded. Go on and tell her I speak honestly. I am sure you can feel it.:. His Thoughts were shrouded in a bitter ash as he recounted the siege in his head, private scenes from the Steps flashing as he spoke of it to the more diplomatic of the two Eiyu. While the flames had pulled back to welcome Saritsu, so careful to never burn her as if they were twice the strength she had felt in first contacting him, they still smoldered and smoked up the chambers his soul resided in, a warm furnace carefully managed. "I see you are both somewhat familiar with our customs, if you know to call me by these names— albeit it is 'Jahagir', not your 'Toroshu'." he continued in speech, clearing his throat after breathing deep and holding the bridge of his nose while Lii had stormed off to the rear. "And if such is the case, you understand that as Demons pour out of Koshiki, we are without Nest. I have Hatchlings here who can barely punch straight— and more Dasaka like Lii. Perhaps less enamored with the heat in their head, but wounded the same. My Sana is keeping us all on our feet, but if you have medicinal knowledge..." He arched his neck, eliciting a few stiff, uncomfortable pops. "We may be able to work something out, as we march to the farmlands."
  8. to answer the end of the podcast i think visaru and that other guy in le have been great
  9. big thank you to alex for filling in on my host slot for this go around, i was wheels up in an hour from the time of recording and simply couldn't make it see you all next week!
  10. IC Long Shunkyou (The Outskirts of Dastana Republic Territory, Odaiba): He stopped, raising one of the hands behind his back to signal his clanmates to do likewise. All around him, the trees themselves seemed to speak, the voice of legion in echoed harmony bombarding his senses from every side. A neophyte would think him surrounded. The experienced would recognize that there could be no such bevy of voices all speaking in the same tone, same pitch, same cadence from so many places at once; that he was presented the illusion of being surrounded. Long Shunkyou was not young, and more than experienced. This was just as likely a method of not only fishing for intimidation— a pointless gesture whether they recognized it or otherwise— but also by throwing the voice everywhere, it concealed location. No tells as to where the sound had sourced, as it permeated the whole space surrounding them. Immediately, his trainees began to tighten around themselves, raising their fists cautiously even as they searched the foliage, murmurs of questioning spreading. "Be still." he spoke, allowing his spirit to rise within him. His voice was like a campfire, colors of smoke and creaking, splitting wood to his tone. He continued to stare straight ahead as he stepped forward one, two, then three paces. "Young Lii is right— I might indeed ask you the same, young Imperial Miss." he now spoke directly to her, the voice in the trees. "This is what a... what was it, a Sighteye is like, no? Projecting illusions atop our reality? Or have I misread the container your flames reside within? You do not burn so freely as we, so it is hard to judge from the presence on the plane of the Soul. They become so faint beneath the smothering of your Disciplines." Well. If they wished to hide their numbers, so be it. It was no skin off his back. "If you intend to force me, then I will relent—" he sighed thickly, allowing his eyes to pan the trees. If he were to assume his guess true, they would not amount to much— doubtlessly the girl accosting them would be behind another such illusion, concealing her form regardless. "I am Shunkyou, acting Head of Clan Long. As our home in the mountain has been overrun, I intend to shepherd these hatchlings you see before you towards our Chand brothers near the lands your people still hold here." His back straightened somewhat, and he stoked the embers remaining within him. She seemed confrontational. Definitely, if she was going through all this trouble to pull the wool over his eyes. Match it, then. "If you have a problem with that, Miss No-Name, I would believe you'd best come out and say it. We have been hiking this trail for days, and it's left us all quite sullen." Unable to pick anything apart, his gaze returned to the path forward. "With those demons meandering about, I would advise you save your strength instead of wasting it on us. You never know when you might have need to fool something far more malicious than a few monks on pilgrimage."
  11. IC: "Yeah, you Ussalry guys are gonna have your work cut out for you— 'specially since you share a land border with Ko. Now that he's back those pricks are gonna get real uppity. Might start thinking they can invade tunnels." Privately, he fought to quell the idea of running into those new super-Rahkshi in a tunnel— all the Dasakan refugees would probably be friggin' horrified once they learned that the new island they'd landed on had a huge interconnected cave system teeming with 'em. Karz, he didn't like the idea of the Dark Walk even back when it was tepid and lame and didn't have the Root of All Evil around to make it actively worse. Now? Forgeeeeeeeeeet it, homeslice. They could keep their rare minerals and bauxite deposits and whatever, he'd sooner cave in an entrance than willingly cross it— Speaking OF, "Hey Leli, check the second pouch on your side. I can't remember if we still have my Stralix Powder."
  12. IC: ... Well, that was pretty quick. Must have been a traveler making their way to the Koro proper through the woods— If these guys were as supposedly nefarious as zelvin had claimed, they wouldn't have lead with a giveaway of their position, right? Wouldn't make a lick of sense. Not to Jolek, anyway. He craned his neck, squinting for a moment in the direction of the voice— there, about a hundred bio or so out to their right. A tall Toa, clad in silver and green armor, whose cone-shaped straw hat stood out distinctly against the darker mahoganies and blacks of the charred wood around him. He didn't seem sinister, near as Jolek could tell— just a traveler. An armed traveler, yeah, but that was par the course for travelling anywhere that wasn't a main road. Behind him, Zelvin's tense voice floated in, warning him to stay alert in case of visitors with less benign intent dropping in. Well, no sign of them yet... to begin with, he had neglected to mottle down either of their natural armoring with the ash that clung to their feet. If he was alone, he doubted it would have made too much difference; his natural greys and gunmetals already did a good portion of the work in breaking up his outline against the ashen backdrop of the forest, mist often clinging to the air and fading the lines further. If he'd put his heart into it, he could definitely creep through here with much more secrecy. Zelvin, however, was someone he'd managed to mistake for a Ga-Toa when they first ran into eachother on account of her natural coloration— made sense that a bright spot of blue would stand out against the backdrop, no matter how much that cloak of hers had picked up the greys of soot and travel. Had he just not thought of it, or had he tunnel visioned on just checking his traps because he was starting to feel peckish? He couldn't really say, but in either instance— Yeah, that's my fault. It was on him, as the guy leading the hunting party, to decide how thorough they'd be with regards to concealment. Nobody else's. Well, he'd made eye contact now, and the sound was already gonna attract whatever attention that cared to investigate within earshot. A snapping branch would have been an annoying blunder, but potentially easy to be written off— a voice was unmistakably a voice, thus a presence, thus a person— either hunter or prey, whichever the "Ash Lads" would care to see them as. If they were here, and looking to fight, they'd be on their way. If they would want to be gone, they'd be going. So saying, "We'll see," he replied, in something between a stage whisper and a holler of his own, as if nudging the volume down gradually from where their exchange had started. "Just checkin' some snares a few hundred bio in! You need help or something?" The die was already cast— in his eyes, this much wouldn't really make things appreciably worse. If they'd wanted to retain a clandestine approach at this, they'd need to beat feet and get the karz away from the source of a loud noise that told lurkers where they might have been. They'd have to completely reposition, separating from the Le-Toa and all but throwing him to the wolves to throw them off their scent. He personally disagreed with the idea of leaving this stranger to their fate, if worst really came to worst. Better to crack their skulls early.
  13. IC Long Shunkyou (The Outskirts of Dastana Republic Territory, Odaiba): "Safe land." he replied, waving away his previous victim object of concern as she fell in with another of her peers. "I'm told some the Chand have taken up residence in some collective form near here. They say they're gathering the kids there for the time being; something-or-other about Imperials keeping a foothold on Odaiba while those demons ran amok." He regarded Lii sidelong as his fists returned to their resting place at the small of his back, just beneath the looseness in his newly-creaking back. He couldn't believe it— all the stretching he did as a proper warrior, only for his joints to lock anyway. She was a hotheaded young upstart, as he remembered her, brash and powerful. One of the daring few who chose to pursue the path of the Rage— to say nothing of it being her first discipline of choice. It reflected well on her boldness, her strength of fire within her soul— he would not deny the girl her earned pride in this regard. However. "If you intend to put on a brave face and ignore your wounds, you'll tear them open further yourself. Favor it. Take my shoulder if you must." His mask glowed again, softly. He felt a rivulet of sweat upon his brow— truly? Was this his new limit as Datsue? To only manage scrapes as simple as this once or twice in an hour? He was living with the fact that he could no longer outright mend gashes like hers, only setting them on the right path for recovery (leave that in their hands, honestly); to only be able to use any ability only so often was like being caged. He doubted this archipelago had enough metal in it to do that properly. "Won't be able to train yourself with a bum thigh." They trudged on, tightening their group as they passed through a pocket of trees. It was supposed to be near here, only another couple hours at this pace... Where'd the guide run off to? The back to chat up one of her friends from the temple? If she had, he'd beat the tar out of her— assuming they didn't get pounced upon by rahi, or worse. Must I do everything myself? His grimace became a scowl, as he began to scan the trees around them. Thus far, the path was clear enough, but forests were where many beasts hid away from the searching eyes of small, bony sorts like him. The types of beasts that would mistake him, or indeed these hatchlings, for a snack.
  14. IC: Cipher - The Rockwall "Then let's kick it off." I gruffly agreed, meeting his wolfish, swashbuckling smirk with a nod and slight grin of my own— for all this guy appeared to be, you and I both need to agree that his enthusiasm was its own subtle breed of infectious. And how could it not be? I had to admit, after the momentary adjustment period, my head was in the same place his had to have been. All of a sudden, all it takes me to get somewhere is look. I've spent decades hiking my way around this island, getting turned around by barriers, natural or otherwise, where I could see so tantalizingly close all the possibilities that lied just beyond. And now, all I had to do was think about it, and I'm there. I'd have found Ta-Wahi that fateful day in record time, and have by sheer process of elimination hunted that senseless jacketed kid down in record time, elusiveness of Kini-Nui notwithstanding. See Daring try and stick my forehead with a compass now... I was getting off track, and ahead of myself. If we intended to pull this off, I needed to be in the right frame of mind for it— no matter how simple a plan like this is on paper, it took execution. We were out of sight for the moment, concealed by some shrubbery. I had a clear enough line to the top of the Lighthouse, its glass dome glittering in the midday sun, waiting to be examined up close by an untrained eye. I checked above us. No overhang of the foliage. Canopies were far and away where forest fires of all stripes tended to hang out, and given that this plan involves taking a mass of elemental goop well beyond most leaves' smoke points, that was something I needed to pay attention to. "Here goes." In my hand, a concentration of light and heat began to form, swirling out from my palm into a steadily growing orb of dull red. Once I was satisfied with the size— this would end up a streak more than maintain it's shape to begin with— I began to ratchet up temperature, the heat leaking out from around me. Cook it more... more... It passed from red, to orange, towards a bright yellow-white— And as if I was chucking an Akilini disk, I leaned back and whipped my hand skyward, a burning line streaking through the air.
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