Jump to content

kuhrii

Members
  • Content Count

    14
  • Joined

  • Last visited

About kuhrii

  • Rank
    Inhabitant
  • Birthday 11/20/1995

Profile Information

  • Gender
    they/them/theirs
  • Location
    California
  • Interests
    art, games, pokemon, cybergoth aesthetics

Recent Profile Visitors

201 profile views
  1. "Surfacing" by Slipknot hello fellow edgelords
  2. Back in 2009 i was a stubborn kid that didn't like how Bionicle shifted to a whole nother planet and away from the characters and lore I'd grown attached to, so i stopped paying attention to canon after that point. Well, now I'm a much more open minded adult and im curious what the general consensus is for this year, set-wise and story-wise. Just by glancing at sets, i think they look nice as individuals but there doesn't seem to be any team cohesion like the previous years (Read: I have no idea who the good and bad guys are lol)
  3. Thanks for the photo, very informative! I think I might be more motivated to mess around with the sets myself now, if I ever get the chance to. The stronger sockets is also quite a relief to hear.
  4. So the new chapter is here and I also wanted to mention a few things. 1. I forgot that pasting in plain text removes italics, so that has been fixed. There was only two instances of it being used in the previous chapter though, so hopefully it wasn't too confusing without it. 2. If I neglect to mention the kanohi of a significant character, such as Tamari or Raneh, it means I apparently gave them a fanon mask initially. I find it not very useful to throw in the names of unfamiliar masks when all I'm doing is describing their appearance, so the names of them will only come up in text when their powers are used or are otherwise significant. So to put a face to the name of the star of this chapter, here's Raneh wearing her Noble Alsitu 3. Ok I know she looks like she could pass as a Ce-Matoran instead, I can explain lol. Back in the day, before Matoran of lightning were given canon colors, I decided to make mine primarily purple, yellow, and blue (and sometimes brown, for some reason...? i've dropped that color now lol). Well turns out I at least got 1 color right. I've decided to keep those colors to keep them from blending in too much with Ga-Matoran. As for Ce-Matoran, i've designated them dark blue, sand blue, and gold in my color palettes (while Vo-Matoran get "Mata" blue and yellow) and I've designated consistent eye colors to each tribe to help further tell them apart, in this case Vo-Matoran are red-eyed and Ce-Matoran are green-eyed. Here's the rest of my palettes if anyone's curious. I'm considering adding a 3rd color to the Ba- and Fa-Matoran's options, just to give them some variety. As it stands, Tamari could pass for either a Fe- or Fa-Matoran and I don't really like that. (Maybe I could give Fa-Matoran both red and blue eyes to reference both poles of a magnet? that could be fun)
  5. kuhrii

    Surface Tension

    III. Inevitably, it is Raneh’s turn to head to the power plant. After spending some time with Raku catching up on their thoughts in the time between their shifts, she reluctantly heads out into the streets of Gavo-Distra. Through the lines of apartment compounds packed in on either side of her, she gazes up at the massive wheels turning in the mountain that looms before her, and the accompanying facilities of the power plant embedded in the rock beside them. The metallic slats of the wheels glow orange in the fading westward sunlight, and the thought of the sun going to sleep while she continues to work makes Raneh feel uneasy for reasons she can’t quite articulate. Nevertheless, she brings herself to take the first step towards the sleepless facility. ~ “You’re late.” Ixha acknowleges Raneh with her critical gaze. The edges of her Kualsi seem to point down at the Vo-Matoran in a condemning manner. “I— my apologies,” Raneh stammers. “It took me longer than expected to get here. The mountain really looks closer than it is from the city.” “Take a taxi crab next time.” Ixha looks down at her datastone, dismissing the excuse, “There are Ussal riders crawling all over the city to remedy the issue of distance.” Raneh nods slowly, unsure if this is meant as advice or a lecture on tardiness. “I’ll keep that in mind, then.” Ixha turns sharply and begins to lead Raneh to her duties. “I can rest assured you won’t make the same mistake tomorrow evening.” She shoots a pointed look over her shoulder at the Vo-Matoran trailing behind her. “Correct?” “Correct,” Raneh repeats, feeling dread twist into a hard knot deep in her abdomen. Making a bad first impression on her first day of work was not an ideal turn of events, especially after the argument with Ixha the previous day, and yet Raneh had found a way to be disappointed in even herself. The two Matoran approach an area of the facility not too dissimilar to Raku’s workplace, this time the crates are full of strange, sour-smelling fruit about the size of two fists each, and the machinery is constructed to accommodate them. Raneh gives her superior a puzzled look. “Those green pods… what does a power plant want with something like that?” “Patience, I was just getting to that. Shui, if you please.” Ixha nods at an impatient-looking Ga-Matoran leaning against one of the crates, who takes one of the fruit and takes it to the machine. “Durah fruit, cultivated and picked in Lebo-Distra. They have a naturally acidic flesh that acts as an electrolyte, and the stem splits during growth to become an anode and a cathode. All that’s left is for us to charge them and Cahlra Nui is provided with disposable batteries,” Ixha explains as Shui demonstrates, touching the two stems to the charging ports. “How do I know which stem is which?” Raneh peers into a nearby crate full of the pungent fruit. Ixha, once more, is annoyed with Raneh for beating her to the punch with her perfectly reasonable questions, though she only shows it by lingering on a sharp glare before continuing with her explanation. “The size. Negative stem is slightly thicker.” Raneh selects one of the Durah to study its stems. She supposes one of them looks bigger than the other, if slightly. Or is it the other one? Squinting one eye, she holds it closer to her face to eliminate any trick of perspective. “Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend getting it so close to your eyes like that.” Ixha walks over and grips one of Raneh’s arms, forcing her to lower the fruit away from her vulnerable eyes. “Need I remind you how acidic these things are? The stem can still produce some fluid, and don’t overestimate the thick skin, either.” Ixha picks a fruit that is already badly bruised and walks over to an aperture embedded in the floor. “If, by some unfortunate circumstance, one happens to burst or perforate—” in an act of bold demonstration, she pulls the two stems in opposing directions, splitting the Durah open so cleanly it doesn’t spare a single drop of its reactive contents. Still, it’s already unpleasant smell multiplies and stings the corners of Raneh’s eyes. Ixha holds the offending fruit over the small hole in the floor, which widens open on cue, and she disposes of the hazardous produce. “—waste no time in removing it from the workplace. In the event of a spill or bodily contact with it’s juices, there is a clean up station in that corner.” Ixha points across the room, where a water spout and some cleaning supplies can be seen. Fortunately, Raneh supposes, the supplies look lightly used. That, or recently replaced, she thinks on the slightly darker side. She prefers to assume the former option. “The Durah go in that crate when finished charging. You’ll know when.” Ixha points at the respective crate. “Now, if you don’t have any further questions, you can get to work.” Raneh shakes her head. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere.” Ixha departs and leaves her alone in the room with Shui. Raneh exhales, feeling as though she had been holding her breath, and picks her first Durah to charge before approaching the slot next to the Ga-Matoran’s. “So, Shui was it?” She makes an attempt to be friendly and ease her own nerves. “I’m Raneh. So I guess we’ll be working together, huh?” “My shift should have ended an hour ago,” Shui retorts, reinforcing the tension in the air, much to Raneh’s disappointment. “Oh…” the knot tightens once more. “I’m sorry.” Shui huffs, and snaps back in an almost singsong manner. “So you do understand after all,” she turns to face the Vo-Matoran, head cocked in mock amazement, “that your actions do, in fact, affect others.” Her voice shifts back to a flat, accusatory tone as she follows up with a scoff, “Yeah, you are sorry, I bet.” Speechless and humiliated, Raneh just turns her head away in response. If your shift’s supposed to be over, why don’t you just go home already? She thinks to herself. Did you stick around just to rub your frustration in my face? I said I was sorry! By this time, the machine indicates with a high pitched tone that Shui’s Durah has finished charging. The Matoran retrieves the fruit and carefully deposits it before leaving her station and disappearing without another inflammatory word. Raneh gasps in relief, for once in her life almost preferring the solitude she is now left with. The Matoran looks down at the fruit in her hands; in her state of unease she had forgotten to actually begin charging the thing. Studying the stems once more, she decides which one looks like the negative end, and positions the fruit to connect to the charger only to find it doesn’t seem to fit. The other way around then, she assumes, and flips the fruit only to have it refuse to fit once more. She desperately tries the first side again, and to both her annoyance and relief finds it decides to slide in just fine this time. Third time’s the charm, somehow. The machine doesn’t seem to indicate that anything is wrong and the battery fruit doesn’t spark or explode, so satisfied with the result, Raneh moves onto the next fruit, which luckily she finds gives her a much easier time. Her luck would not remain consistent, however, as she goes down the line she would find it still sometimes takes three, four, even five tries to manage a fit. Raneh does her best to keep her frustration from rising to the surface. Whenever it threatens to boil over, she stops and reminds herself why she is here— remembering the long journey overseas, day after day of the seemingly endless churning ocean, remembering the islands of Gahru Nui as they were overrun by the reptilian Crumaki, the sea offering little by way of protection and only serving to isolate the matoran instead, watching helplessly as the beasts crossed the distance from island to island with their tireless swimming, and remembering the final horrific reveal of the Crumaki’s savage hunger, the beasts preying on the cornered Matoran and draining their energy to further fuel their ceaseless onslaught. With a choked sob, Raneh turns her back to the machine and slides to the floor, frustrated with her own myriad of emotions. I’m supposed to be free now, right? I should be grateful for escaping… She clutches her head in distress. Then why do I still feel trapped? Her thoughts begin to trail further back in time, desperate for answers. Things weren’t always this way, she knows this to be true. She wracks her brain to recall the time before everything changed, before the struggle to survive, before the world around her seemed to fall apart. She recalls exploring the lush jungle of one of Gahru Nui’s islands, venturing deep in search of the crafty Onolo vine eels. She thinks of Raku’s familiar face, joining in the hunt besides her, wielding her long hooked staff while she herself follows up with her net. Raneh finds herself missing the thrill of the hunt, the triumph of a successful catch, the shared joy in working together. Most important of all, it was home, both in duty and in company, and it is home that she is missing the most. The scene feels so far away, her own life feels as if it’s fading away into antiquity. Yet the present moment is equally out of her grasp. Her own life belongs to another now, just another spark in the great power plant. Can she really call this mindless toil a home? A voice interrupts the Matoran’s inward spiral. “Well it would be time for your break,” Ixha stands over Raneh, arms crossed. “But it looks like you’re already ahead of schedule.” Raneh starts at her supervisor’s reappearance, so engrossed in her own brooding that she has no clue how long the Ga-Matoran has been standing there. “I… got tired. It’s only been a moment.” Raneh tries to come up with an excuse, knowing full well how bad this looks. Ixha peers into the crate of charged Durah to check her progress. “Are ‘moments’ considerably longer where you come from?” “Okay, it may have been a few moments. I’m— I’m sorry, I know I’ve been a real letdown today. I’m not trying to slack off, it’s just—” Raneh gulps, hoping she can wiggle her way out of this by appealing to Ixha’s sympathy, however minute it may be. “I’m still getting used to being here, on Cahlra Nui I mean. It was just, such a long journey getting here, and I’m still adjusting to this new life, there’s just, a lot on my mind…” At the very least, she won’t let herself stoop so low as lying. Ixha scans her face, still crossing her arms, and fortunately for Raneh she eventually relents. “Your history is none of my business, frankly. It is your first shift, however. Consider it a training session, and… don’t worry about any quotas for today.” She turns to leave. “Just do what you can.” Raneh is amazed that her excuse went over so well, and trying not to sound too relieved she thanks Ixha for the slack. “Thanks for being understanding. I’ll do my best.”
  6. I can see what you mean about the Inika shoulder width. Seems at least some shoulder armor is required to balance out the proportions. Yeah I'm not sure how I feel about the G2 armor, the smooth shell armor doesn't have quite the same biomechanical feel of the old sets.
  7. I'm curious what the general consensus is about opinions surrounding the various Toa builds. I've heard complaints that the Inika build is overused in the later G1 years but I find that to be preferable imo. I always spent more time building my own characters, so I like that it serves as a consistent template that makes swapping parts with later years straightforward yet offering a lot of room for creativity. I think one downside is there's no official technic gear functionality like the first few years had, but maybe that doesn't matter to everyone. I don't have any sets from '04 or '05 so I don't have hands-on experience with those, what are people's opinion on them? I actually like the hordika, at least visually, but I don't think I'm a huge fan of the spinners. How about G2, what are people's experiences with their build? How easy/difficult is it to customize them? I have an interest in the sets with purple pieces and I'm wondering how well they mesh with the G1 system. I'm not super familiar with the ccbs skeletal framework so I'm curious if there's any limitations I should know about.
  8. Been a while since I actually tried making an MOC with my sets, and after pulling them out of storage I felt the urge to make something I've always wanted to figure out something original to do with the awkward Makuta pod torso, and eventually discovered that I can fit a Nuva chespiece in there. It's not attached at all, the rib claws just kinda hold it in place. I wish I had better options for a weapon to give him, instead I just settled for slapping Gavla's... hooks(?) on him instead. In a perfect world I'd construct some sort of staff for him but I don't own any axles that are nearly long enough for that. More wing bits would also be ideal. I can take more pictures if anyone wants a closer look at any of the specific pieces/connections.
  9. Nice job, I think Onepu is my favorite cuz I'm always a sucker for that purple. You've earned a sub from me ^^
  10. Thank you so much for your feedback, it really means a lot to me. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! I do have a lot of the more major stuff already in mind, but the focus for a while is setting the scene with these more personal interactions which are kinda done on the spot. For now I'm forgoing a centralizing main cast in favor of more anecdotal stuff, but over time the focus will tighten up (assuming I let myself get that far) I appreciate the critiques, and regarding the number of characters and I will try to keep it in mind going forward. I have this huge list of names to pick from but you're right, it's probably better to show some restraint instead of throwing in too many all at once. As for the tense, I'm not totally sure why I write in present tense lol. If I had to guess, it's an artifact left over from my roleplaying days. I should try writing a flashback or some other past event to get a feel for past tense, maybe. Thanks again for reading, hopefully I have more to add soon
  11. I thought we were gonna get Nuis/Locations based on each of the six elements, after Mahri Nui, Karda Nui, and I guess Bara Magna fit that scope, but then that never happened. I would've loved to see locations and stories based on fire, ice, and earth to complete the set.
  12. kuhrii

    Surface Tension

    II. In the southernmost region of Cahlra Nui, two blunt volcano peaks rise high above the island’s surface. Their calderas are so close they could almost be considered one, if not for one important distinction: the southern one brought forth mineral-rich spring water rather than lava. The heat of the adjacent peak caused water from deep in the ground to spew to the surface, where it runs down the rocky mountainside before finding its way back to the underground waterways, where the cycle begins again. It is this natural phenomenon that provides a great deal of power to the residents of Cahlra Nui, and it is this process by which many Vo- and Ga-Matora make their livelihoods. The mountain stream is fitted with a number of waterwheels that turn Gavo-Distra’s hydroelectric generators which are maintained by these Matoran. It is at this very power plant that several Matoran will find their new jobs. Raku and Raneh have been together since as long as they can remember, from work, to play, to rest, they spent every minute they could spare in each other’s company. And even as they were fleeing their home razed to the ground by the vicious Crumaki beasts, each one refused to step one foot off their island without the other. Together they voyaged across the great expanse of the ocean to find their new sanctuary, and it is in this promised paradise that they must now face the possibility of separation. “Did you say night shift?” Raneh swallows nervously at the thought. “But you gave Raku the day shift! Isn’t there any way things could get shifted around?” Ixha, the stern Kualsi-clad shift manager, looks up from her datastone and eyes the two Vo-Matoran. So spirited these girls are, always is the way with Vo-Matoran, she thinks to herself. Wish the Board of Employment would send us more sensible Ga-Matoran, at least we know how to go with the flow. “Is that going to be a problem?” Ixha grunts. “Just think about it, if I’m sleeping while you’re working, and vice versa…” Raku adds to the complaint, “when will we get to see each other? No, no, it just won’t do. I won’t have it!” The visor of her purple Kaukau steams up with agitation. Raneh nods vigorously in agreement, anxious for Ixha’s reply. “I’m sorry, but the schedule has already been set.” Ixha crosses her arms. “Besides, newcomers get the least priority in picking hours. Once you’ve been here a bit longer, and proven you’re hard workers, maybe you’ll be rewarded with the same luxury.” “But you don’t understand!” Raku continues to protest. “We’ve never been without each other, never! We’re bonded for life, we’ve been through everything together. Trust me, we’ll be much better workers if you put us together.” Ixha looks at Raneh, then at Raku, studying their pleading faces. Even her strict demeanor yields to their demands ever so slightly. She presses her hand to her forehead in a show of exasperation. “Look, I already told you the schedule is set… However, next week isn’t set in stone yet. I suppose I can see if something can’t be arranged.” The pair still looks disappointed. “Now I can’t make any promises. You’ll just have to hold out until then at least and then we’ll see.” “But…” Raneh whines. Impatient, Ixha begins to get snappy. “Enough! That’s as far as I can budge. Look, if you’re life-bonded or whatever it is you call it, surely some time apart won’t be that bad in the long run. Think of it as, perhaps, a test of your bond or whatever. Alright? At least you’ll have new hire orientation together.” Raneh looks at Raku, who looks back at her, eyes narrowed in frustration. Raneh is the first to accept their situation. “Look, Raku, she makes a good point… After all we’ve been through, surely a bit of space doesn’t compare to that. We’ve managed through worse, right? Besides,” she smiles, “once we’re able to reunite, won’t it feel more rewarding? It’ll be ok, I’m sure.” “Fine,” Raku shuffles her feet in resignation. “But I swear, if something happens to you and I’m not there to do anything about it, a faulty battery discharges or something, you won’t hear the end of it.” She shoots Ixha a threatening look, her visor flashing in the light of the charged lightstones as if to drive home the point. Ixha is not so impressed by the Matoran’s show of intimidation. “You could always be sent back to the Board of Employment for reassignment,” Ixha remarks. “I hear they’re always in need of more filter scrapers at the drainwater purification plant.” Her smile poises to mock the pair’s predicament. “They’re practically begging for more transfers over there, I bet they’d hand you whatever shift you want on a polished protodermis platter.” “Well, if that’s the case—” Raku almost considers the passive-aggressive offer before her partner cuts her off with a look of horror. “No, no no no, are you kidding me? Do you want to find out what washes down off those streets?” Raneh whispers with disgust, “Think about all those Rahi in the streets, all day long, with no one cleaning up after them—” It’s plenty enough to change Raku’s mind. “Ok, yeah, point taken.” She feels a tad bit stupid for even considering it. Ixha sighs in relief that the indignant Matoran are finally pacified. “Right, now that we’re all on the same page, follow me and I’ll hand you over to our orientation supervisor.” ~~~~~~~~~~ The next morning, Raku wakes up in their shared domicile. It may be a bit cramped as a dwelling designed for a single resident, but to the two of them it is hardly an issue. Raku wakes Raneh briefly as she prepares to leave, and the sleepy Matoran is happy to see her face. Even though she doesn’t need to rise for another half of the day, she is drowsily content in just being in her presence. Raku finally departs for her first shift at the power plant, bidding her partner goodbye. ~ “First day, huh? Right, let’s get you right to it then. It’s simple, really, nothing to it.” Syred is Raku’s supervisor for the day and gets right into showing her her duties. “First, have you ever heard of a charged lightstone?” Raku shakes her head. “Well, it’s a sort of artificially produced lightstone,” she continues, “They manufacture them down in Onufaba-Distra, the high pressure machinery makes a tight, efficient crystal structure that’s capable of receiving and retaining a lot of energy. Cheap, luminous, and best of all, rechargeable. That’s where you come in.” Syred shows Raku over to some metal crates and cracks one open, revealing many pure, transparent crystals. “We receive both the new and drained lightstones here at our plant for charging. Now, just take on and pop it into the machine over here—” She takes one of the lightless stones over to one of the rounds slot in the charging terminal, fits it in the whole and an inner mechanism pulls the stone inside. Soon enough a green indicator lights up and Syred grabs a cylindrical canister from a rack to the side of the machine and screws off the top before holding the opening over a different slot on the machine. “Then you press this button—” The supervisor does so, and a smooth mechanical sound is heard as the lightstone is deposited into the canister, “and finally, quickly close it up.” The lid is promptly screwed back over the newly charged lightstone, revealing a piercing radiance before being concealed. “Emphasis on quickly, these things are bright, as you can see. It’s not recommended to look at them for very long.” Raku rolls her eyes behind her supervisors back, getting a bit impatient at being treated like she doesn’t know any better. Of course I’m not gonna stare at the thing, do you think I stare at the sun for fun, too? Syred tosses the canister into another crate full of similar cylinders nearby. “And that’s the outgoing crate. Don’t worry about hurling them around like that either, the things are nigh unbreakable. Any questions?” Again, Raku shakes her head. “Good, I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll be back to let you know when it’s time to take your break.” ~ The work is as advertised: simple. Monotonous, even. Raku is relieved when Syred returns to send her to break. However, the intermission is short and soon enough she is back to shoving crystals in a hole. When she returns to her duties, Raku is not alone this time. This time, a Pakari-wearing Ga-Matoran is at another one of the charging slots, inserting stones and gingerly retrieving them with the canisters. Raku notices she seems to be having some difficulty, as she slowly screws on the lids, hands trembling. Being her first day on the job, Raku knows it’s not exactly her place to tell another how to go about their work, but she can’t help but feel like she’s got to say something. “Hey,” she approaches the uneasy Matoran, “it’s probably none of my business, but how are you doing over here?” The poor thing startles at being confronted suddenly, nearly dropping the canister in her hands as she spins to face her fellow worker. “What? I— I didn’t mess up, I swear! I’m being careful this time!” she swallows hard, eyes darting around the room suspiciously. “Woah now, I didn’t say anything like that.” Raku puts her hands up in a non-threatening manner. “I just couldn’t help but notice it seems like you’re having a less than okay time over here.” “Oh goodness, am I really that bad?” she winces. “Well, you just seem… scared, I guess. You’re handling those lightstones like they’re gonna bite you or something,” Raku chuckles. “Well, that’s not too far from the truth.” The Matoran tries to deflect suddenly. “I should, um, get back to it though. We have quotas to meet, you know.” She turns and grabs another dim lightstone, just as shaky as ever. Raku shrugs. “It’s just a shiny rock.” Her coworker frowns. “You don’t get it. You’re not me, so you’re not gonna understand— Oh!” A faint spark is heard, and as if pricked by a needle, the Matoran flinches and drops the canister in her hands— right as it receives a freshly charged lightstone, both clattering to ground. The fully exposed lightstone glows at an intensity that sears into their eyes for just a moment before they instinctively shut them. “Oh— oh no, not again!” The misfortunate Matoran trembles and crouches helplessly. “Oy,” Raku exclaims gruffly at the sudden onslaught of light. She gets down on her hands and knees and feels around for the offending lightstone. “Here, I gotcha, just sit tight and I’ll—” her hands find their way to the stone and with a touch it fills her with a tingling sensation. It intensifies the more she grips the stone and with her other hand she quickly finds the empty canister. At last the lid is screwed on and she is relieved of the strange feeling. “Alright, you can open your eyes now. The crisis is over.” The Matoran cracks open an eye first to double check before sighing in relief and pushing herself to her feet. “I apologize for my carelessness. Truly I am, just… I’m sorry.” She seems to have trouble looking Raku in the eyes. “Don’t get hung up on it, stuff happens.” Raku tosses the canister triumphantly into the crate where it belongs. “Now I understand what you meant about that ‘bite’. Well, it didn’t feel so bad to me. But for a Ga-Matoran… I can imagine that’s not exactly compatible.” “It really doesn’t feel fun at all. Such a nasty shock.” She finally manages to look at her savior, and even smiles just a bit. “Thanks for having my back, um, have we met before? I don’t think I’ve seen you around down here.” “Raku,” she answers, and extends her hand. “And you’d be correct, it’s my first day in fact.” “Oh! I’m Kukuna.” She hesitates at the offering of a handshake, as if the girl’s hand threatens to shock her as well, but she overcomes it and accepts the gesture without incident. “Um, and welcome, I guess.” “So what do they have you down here for?” Raku is curious about whatever Kukuna’s story is. “Someone like you doesn’t really seem fit for this job, if you don’t mind me saying.” “Oh, but it’s true, I wasn’t always working down here in the charging facility. It happened very recently, in fact.” Kukuna seems fine now with Raku’s prying. “The incident, I mean. I used to be a flow monitor, up by the waterwheels, making sure the water pressure stayed at safe levels. Well, one day there had been heavy rains that night, and i didn’t take that into account, so a pipe burst and caused a real mess.” She stares down at her folded hands. “So they send me down here to do a job that’s harder to mess up. But knowing me, I still find ways to screw that up. I feel like I’m being punished, but… well I really shouldn’t complain, I probably deserve it, huh.” Raku shakes her head indignantly. “Of course not. It doesn’t matter if you made a mistake, it’s not right to make you do a job that’s literally painful for you.” She turns to look at the row of charging terminals, then at the crates of dim lightstones. “Say, I think I know a way to turn this around for you. Who says we have to work all by ourselves, huh?” Kukuna perks up at this, and watches curiously as Raku hauls over another crate of the lightstones. Raku hands her an armful of the crystals and announces her idea. “Go down the line and insert these into all the chargers. I’ll be on canister duty. That way you don’t have to worry about accidentally touching one of the charged lightstones ever again. Sound good?” This instantly fills Kukuna with relief. “Oh, that’s a splendid idea! It’s so simple too, why didn’t I think of that before?” She eagerly accepts the lightstones from her coworker, grinning sheepishly. “I promise I won’t slow you down! I— I’ll do my best!” Raku chuckles at her show of enthusiasm. “Pace yourself if you have to, alright? Don’t burn yourself out for my sake.” The two Matoran work together like finely tuned clock work. As soon as one crystal is done charging, Raku is there to collect it. And as soon as the lid is screwed on tight Kukuna is there to replace it with an empty one. Down the line they go, over and over, until the crates of recharged lightstones begin to outnumber the crates of dim ones waiting to be renewed.
  13. Discussion place for the story Surface Tension, and a preemptive thank you for reading.
  14. kuhrii

    Surface Tension

    Authors note: Since my interest in Bionicle was reignited recently, I thought it might be a good time to write a story that reboots a bunch of my old characters. To put it simply, this is a sort of writing exercise to see what I can do with my preexisting ideas and characters. Most information was lost, but I at least have their names and appearances, so my past self has left me with a lot of blank slates to piece together lol. As for the story itself, it more or less exists in its own bubble and any canon references are baseline at most. Very stream-of-consciousness, planning ahead is for squares /j (discussion topic here) I. “A place for everything… and everything in its place.” Kier smiles down at the scene below from his venerable perch on the mezzanine. Queues of a many number of Matoran, forming a spectrum of any manner of build and character, make their way through immigrant registration to receive their reassignment and file neatly into the reception area. The Turaga’s heart swells as he watches them wait eagerly for their passage into their new lives, now free from whatever horrors and hardships they left behind in the bitter, brutal world beyond the island. Cahlra Nui. Peaceful. Productive. Perfect. Kier could lose himself in his idyllic fantasies, but he must perform his duty first before life can go on. Taking modest steps down the stairway, he approaches the crowd of Matoran with a humble smile, tinged with a warmth fueled by the mellow fire that still burns within him. “My my, what a colorful bunch of new faces I see today. I am Kier, pleased to make your acquaintance today as your Turaga and overseer of public relations. I’m sure you’ll find your journeys, however long or short or weary they may have been, made worthwhile in joining our well-oiled society. Put all the doom and gloom of your past lives and the outside world out of your minds, for you have arrived at the shining light of peace and opportunity. “Now, there are just a few more steps ahead that will prepare you for integration into the public, but with a bit more patience it will be over before you know it. Once our transportation has whisked you away to your designated Distra, you will begin Duty assignment. Er, well, “assignment” is a rather harsh word, of course you will get to choose what path fits you most. There’s nothing I can’t stand more than someone forced to do a job they detest, you hear me? Here in Cahlra Nui, we highly regard the virtue of Duty and do our best to honor it by finding every Matoran their niche. I hope you look forward to prosperous, fulfilling lives here in our Great Island. And now, without further ado, I welcome you into our arms. Welcome to the beginning of the rest of your lives.” The Turaga gives the crowd a bow and ushers the mismatched congregation of Matoran into the hallway behind him. One by one they go by, some giving him a furtive glance, others bothering to spare the Turaga a smile, others still seem wary of their fellow migrants. Nowhere else in all of existence would you find such a variety of Matoran all in one place—some thinly armored with bright hues, others more low-key or even dull in color, many scratched and pitted after lifetimes of turmoil. And as the last of the Matoran files away down the path to their new lives, Kier sighs with relief, content in his efforts to make the universe just a little more bright. He turns and heads back past the registration counters. The Cahlran Matoran manning the counters moments ago have all ended their shifts and headed home. The Turaga leaves the immigration services building and steps out into the late afternoon sunbeams glazing the streets and spiralling structures of Cahlra-Distra in a brilliant glow. Even at the edges of the island’s industrious hub district, the city broadcasts its splendor in all directions, even dappling the gently lapping sea beyond in refractions of light. The streets are bustling with busy Matoran and all manners of transportation— Rahi of all sizes, cargo haulers and light cruisers and personal hoverboards, even simply on foot. As if on cue, a Ta-Matoran riding a large, noble-looking Rahi greets the Turaga. He assists his elder into his respective place on the beast’s saddle and proceeds to escort the two of them home. “As punctual as always, Keld. You are as swift as you are consistent. I think I may fear the day when you’re fated to surprise me instead.” The Matoran takes the joke in stride. “If you’re scared, how do you think I would feel,” Keld chuckles, “if I woke up one day unsure of what I was capable of?” “You make a good point.” Kier nods knowingly, “I suppose the most unwelcome surprises are the ones that come from the self.” ~~~~~~~~~~ Far from the shining island capital, a caravan pulled by huffing beasts of burden heave through the dusty expanse of the Po-Ruku desert. Though the journey is a frequent one, the relentless winds thick with sand are merciless in leaving no trace of a trail every round trip. But safe from the harsh elements within the transport’s sturdy iron walls patiently wait a number of Po- and Fe-Matoran for their arrival to their new home. Across the smooth, rolling dunes, Pofe-Distra awaits them, promising to give them purpose and peace of mind. The sun hangs low in the sky, yet the interior of the transport still simmers with the desert heat. A silvery-black Fe-Matoran has slumped to the side, lulled to sleep by the warmth. Another Fe-Matoran, this one instead rusty in color with an orange Pakari, taps his foot nervously. Two Po-Matoran opposite him eye his anxious behavior with darting glances. “I don’t mean to be rude,” the Matoran with a black Huna speaks up, “but could you ease up on the drumming there, kid? I can feel it pounding in my head.” The tapping ceases as the anxious Matoran stiffens. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. Or couple of days, I don’t know anymore.” “Yeah. The journey’s been hard for all of us, I can imagine.” The Huna-wearer sighs, feeling a bit bad for his fellow immigrant, and tries to lighten the subject. “What’s your name, kid? I’m Heani.” “Favik.” The Matoran swallows despite his dry mouth. “It’s, um, nice to meet you.” Heani nods. “Red eyes, huh? You must be a Fe-Matoran. Where you from, eh?” “Doesn’t matter.” Favik tenses up again, looking at the floor. “It’s not exactly on the map anymore.” “I’ve never met a Fe-Matoran before.” The other passenger, a black Kaukau-wearing fellow who had kept quiet until now, suddenly seems interested in Favik. “Are you guys, like, rare or something?” Heani interrupts his gawking with a curt nudge. “You can’t just ask someone that, have some sense!” But the damage is already done. “Yeah. ‘Rare’. That’s one way to put it.” Favik’s anxiety begins to boil over into anger. “Try ‘hunted to near extinction’. Try ‘watching your friends be enslaved and culled for simply being themselves’. That’s another way to put it!” “I’m sorry, er, Favik, I didn’t know—” The Matoran is taken aback by the outburst. Favik feels a little embarrassed for lashing out at a mere question. “No, no, I’m not mad at you. It’s not you…” He sighs. “Well… at least things will be better now that we’re here. Onwards and upwards, yeah?” He swings his arm in a show of enthusiasm. The others fail to respond to his optimism so he coughs and shrugs off the silence. “I’m uh, I’m Vikela, by the way. I don’t wanna get off on the wrong foot with you here. And, well… you seem like someone who needs a friend. So, I guess that offer is on the table. If you just want me to leave you alone, then that’s fine too.” Favik studies his face and loosens up a bit, straightening out his posture a bit. He comes to the conclusion that Vikela is ultimately harmless, if a bit naive. “I’ll consider it,” he answers without sparing another word. Heani nods in approval. “That’s right, it’s never a bad idea to make new friends. Healthy, even.” He grunts, as if feigning reluctance to impart his feelings on the others. “Would be a shame if we were to part ways after such a long ride together through this desert. You seem like a good kid, I wouldn’t mind seeing you around, yeah? You too, sport.” He punches Vikela lightly in the shoulder. “Just watch that mouth of yours, softy.” A grumbling is heard in the opposite corner of the cabin. The other three reel at the fact the sleeping passenger resumes showing signs of life, as they had nearly forgotten about his presence during all the talk. “Mmrrgh…” he utters, “Why… do you talk like… an old geezer, huh?” The Fe-Matoran squints one of his red eyes lazily at the group. Heani is stunned speechless by the blunt remark. Vikela, on the other hand, bursts into laughter and tries to cough it off as he regains composure. Favik, for the first time, reveals the closest he can manage to a smile. “You got a problem with the way I talk, boy? Old, you say? Now I’m just as able and spry as any one of you, you hear?” Heani shakes his head. “What’s the matter with you, anyways? If you were listening the whole time I might be inclined to accuse you of eavesdropping, kid.” “I’m no ‘kid’, it’s Tamari, got it?” He shifts in his seat to get more comfortable. “So what, just ‘cause I’m dozing doesn’t mean I can’t hear nothing. Ever heard of multitasking, gramps?” As if to prove his point, he closes his eyes and presumably returns to the realm of sleep. Meanwhile, Heani tries to handle this confusing blow to his ego with grace. “Hrrm,” he grunts, “must be some sort of minor difference in dialect. Just a misunderstanding. Yup. Hey now, stop your snickering already.” Vikela covers his mouth as Heani shoots him an exasperated glare. Despite the strange tone shift brought on by the newly introduced Tamari, Favik finally feels even the least bit relaxed and he settles into his seat for the rest of the trip. The weight of his troubled past begins to ease off his shoulders as he finally allows himself to glimpse at the future ahead of him.
  15. Hi, I've been out of the bionicle scene for maybe a decade at least lol, I'm wondering if the mnolg-style sprite maker was still around? The one that made these things Another question, what mask even is this one? I don't recognize it at all and couldn't find any canon mask like it. I think 12 yr old me didn't know either and just made up a name for it lol. Edit: After extensive digging I was able to find the Matoran bodies at least. And I know the masks can be found elsewhere on the forums
×
×
  • Create New...