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  1. Hello everyone! I know I promised to restart the Lewa# Studios Holiday Series on Halloween, but...well, it was Halloween. And thus I was busy doing Halloween-ish things. And thus not writing comedies. So here it is anyway, the (belated) return of the Lewa# Studios Holiday Series! Enjoy! (Also, try to guess which Toa is dressed in which costume, since I deliberately will not reveal who's who. Though one or two might be obvious... ) Why Toa Shouldn’t Trick-Or-Treat A BIONICLE comedy by Me! Part 1 of the Lewa# Studios Holiday Series 2014-2015 The place: Metru Nui, or more specifically, the deserted Coliseum, or more specifically, a few square meters of dirt near the center of the coliseum, or more specifically, 3.14 square meters of dirt centered on a spot approximately 2.3727391945 centimeters to the left of the center of the Coliseum. As if anyone actually cared. “3.14? Cool! That’s the same number as Pi! Pi goes like this: 3.141592653589793223…” observed an excited Tava, before going on to rattle off the digits of Pi to an absurd amount. ...Well, him caring about it goes without saying. But I digress. Anyway, the seven Toa Nuva (along with Tava, the Toa of Pie) were discussing the upcoming holiday Dume had declared across all of Metru Nui. “So apparently, Dume has declared it to be Halloween. Anyone know what that means?” asked Lewa. “It means, according to this set of tablets,” said Tahu, pulling out a large group of tablets that he proceeded to dump on Pohatu’s head to use as a table, “everyone is required to dress up in a costume and go to every hut on Metru Nui. The Matoran in the hut will pass out candy if we say “Trick or Treat.” Also, the costumes should be as scary and/or weird as possible for maximum holiday points.” “What are holiday points?” Tahu shrugged. “No idea. I hope they’re flammable though!” he added with a . Gali sighed. “You would. Anyway, what should we go as?” “I’ll go as a pie!” exclaimed Tava. “No, wait--I’ll go as Pi! Or...nah, pie sounds better! But Pi would be fun too…” The overly-obsessed Toa of Pie then wandered off, still debating with himself which to dress up as. “Well, I think we should keep it a secret until tomorrow,” Lewa said. “That way, when we show up in our costumes, we’ll have to guess who’s who!” “No,” argued Takanuva. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!” screamed Kopaka, as usual. “Why not? I think it’s a great idea!” “Because Tava already ruined it,” the Toa of Light pointed out. “We already know he’ll be going as Pie or Pi.” “Pretty sure we could have figured that one out even if he didn’t already tell us,” said Onua with a . “But I also like the idea of keeping it a secret. Should we take a vote?” “No,” Takanuva argued again. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!” “ “ emoticonned Gali. “First, I think we should take a vote on whether or not to take a vote…” “No.” “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!” “Okay...a vote on whether or not to take a vote on whether or not to take a vote, then?” “No.” “AAAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!” The rest of the Toa facepalmed. “This will take all day…” muttered Onua. Several hours and exactly 9,321 separate votes on whether or not to take votes on whether or not to take...you get the idea, the vote was finally taken on whether or not to keep everyone’s costumes a secret. And it ended up being a tie, so they just flipped a coin. But since coins don’t exist in BIONICLE, they flipped a widget instead, which ended up landing on its side, wedged inside Random Matoran #35’s gears. Eventually they all just gave up and Lewa just decided they would keep the costumes a secret anyway, making the entire previous scene completely pointless. Each of the Toa retired to their respective houses to prepare their costumes. Occasional shouts of “PIE!” and “PI!” could be heard throughout the night, presumably by a certain obsessed Toa, but other than that, things went surprisingly without incident. Everyone was excited to start making their costumes, and throughout the island, various random Matoran were making as much candy as possible for the following day. The next morning, all of Metru Nui was decorated for the occasion. Turaga Dume had even swapped his normal mask out for a Kanohi Puhmpka, the Mask of Pumpkin Heads, which had the power of giving him a pumpkin for a head. The chutes had been dyed orange, which annoyed all of the Le-Matoran who were now orange-colored but gave everyone else a good laugh. Black cardboard Fikou spiders covered the forges of Ta-Metru. The Ga-Metru schools were wrapped completely in mummy wrappings, which meant none of the students could go to school (great for the students, but not so much for the disappointed teachers). The Archives were now filled with fake ghost statues with glow-in-the-dark eyes, along with some Fikou spiders that everyone assumed were decorations but had actually escaped from the Archives, as discovered by an unfortunate Matoran who got bitten. Po-Metru had carved numerous gigantic statues of jack-o-lanterns, witches, and Matoran skeletons, except for the occasional statue of Hafu that had slipped in for some reason. Ko-Metru looked the same as normal because everyone there was too obsessed with telescopes to bother celebrating. In the still-empty Coliseum, seven figures approached the center. (Yes, it was exactly in the center this time!) Everyone just groaned at the Toa wearing a giant pie around his waist, with the pi symbol for a mask. “Yes, Tava, we all know it’s you….” “I couldn’t decide, so I went with both pie and pi! Isn’t that wesome?” Then Tava noticed the typo. “Hey, where did that ‘a’ go?” “Ha, ha!” said a Toa dressed as the Rahkshi of Letter Control. “I borrowed the RLC’s actual staff for this costume. No idea it would still work for me!” They tehn strated ramdlee wvaing te staf arond and acidently mkang tpyos evrwher. “Stop that, you’ll ruin this comedy!” protested a Toa dressed up as Krekka. “What an unrealistic costume; Krekka doesn’t talk like that,” said Lewa. “And it’s also not scary.” “ “ emoticonned the Krekka-dressed Toa. “Lewa, you forgot your costume...And for that matter, so did you, Takanuva. Did you forget what day it was?” “No,” said Lewa. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!” screamed a Toa dressed up in a blank white sheet. “What are you supposed to be?” asked Lewa. “A ghost?” “Not a ghost; I’m going as a Klakk blinking in a blizzard in Ko-Wahi.” “Oh, okay. Nice Rock Monster costume over there, by the way. “Thanks! Scary, huh?” “Okay, okay, guys,” shouted Takanuva suddenly, “time out. I think we should start trying to guess each other’s costumes. Then we can all go trick-or-treating!” Lewa raised his hand. “Sounds good, but is everyone here?” “No,” said Takanuva. Everyone looked around. “Tahu’s not here!” observed the Po-Matoran named Everyone, who had accidentally wandered in. “Thanks for telling us, but this is a meeting for Toa only. Get out of here.” With a whunt, the Rock Monster kicked Everyone out of the Coliseum. However, he accidentally kicked the Matoran so hard that he flew all the way around the planet and landed back in the Coliseum, crushing the Rock Monster. “Why me!?” complained the disguised Toa with a . The Krekka-costumed Toa shrugged. “Yeah, where is Tahu, anyway?” “Probably forgot to show up,” said Takanuva. “Let’s just start guessing!” “No,” observed Lewa, pointing to the entrance where a red Toa-sized figure was rapidly approaching. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!” screamed the Klakk blinking in a blizzard in Ko-Wahi. The figure emerged into the light. “Hi, everyone! Can we start burning something?” asked the figure, who was in a costume that looked like a large, ugly version of a Toa. It wore overly smooth red armor with some gold highlights, had silver hands with bizarre fingers, and had a mask that looked like a Hau that had gone through a blender. “Like my costume?” When everyone saw it, they immediately followed the Klakk-costumed Toa's lead, running as fast as they could out of the building. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!” Some time later, once everyone had composed themselves, the Toa went to the Moto-Hub for the costume contest that Dume had announced about five seconds beforehand. Everyone had shown up for the occasion. So had the rest of the Matoran on the island, even the newly-orange Le-Matoran. Dume walked onto the hastily constructed stage that was actually a bunch of pipe cleaners tied together with Silly String. “Okay, I know everyone wants to get on with the trick-or-treating, but first we will have seven awards for the best costumes. Let me list them in order: 1) Most Detailed Costume: Rahkshi of Letter Control 2) Most Original Costume: Klakk Blinking In A Blizzard In Ko-Wahi 3) Weirdest Costume: Pie/Pi Fusion 4) Most Unrealistic Personality/Costume Mix: Krekka 5) The “Forgot My Costume” award: This one is a tie, Lewa and Takanuva 6) Oldest Reference: Rock Monster Before he could give the final award, Turaga Matau zoomed past in a new vehicle he was testing and plowed right through the stage. Amazingly, it still held, until Random Matoran #35 in the front row coughed. The entire thing promptly collapsed. “Well, that was inconvenient,” muttered Turaga Dume. “Watch where you’re going, young whippersnapper!” Turaga Matau zoomed by on his second lap. “Who are you calling young whippersnapper? I’m 1,000 years old, you know!” “Well, I’m 2,000 years old! I was a Turaga when you were still a Matoran!” “Yeah, but in 2,000 more years I will be 3,000 years old! So there!” “But that would make me 4,000 years old” “GET ON WITH IT!!” shouted the entire population of Metru Nui. Dume sighed. “Fine...you youngsters have no maturity these days. Anyway...the Scariest Costume goes to...2015 TAHU!” 2015 Tahu stood up to show off his costume. Every Matoran in the Moto-Hub immediately fainted in fright. “Why does that keep happening?” At long last, it was time for the Toa to start trick-or-treating. The eight Toa lined up in front of the first group of houses, located in Ta-Metru. “Ready to go?” asked Takanuva. “No,” said Lewa. “AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!” screamed the Klakk blinking in a blizzard in Ko-Wahi. “Too bad, we’re starting anyway.” Lewa then rang the doorbell. A Ta-Matoran stuck his head out. “Sorry, but doorbells don’t exist in BIONICLE.” He stuck his head back in. Lewa sighed. “Fine, make me actually do work…” He knocked on the door. This time, the Ta-Matoran opened it. “Trick or treat!!” shouted the group of Toa in unison. “Sure, I’ve got some stuff for you right here,” said the Matoran, pulling out a huge bucket full of pumpkin pies. The Toa all looked at each other. “Oh no…” they muttered as the pie-and-pi-costumed Toa barreled over the others and grabbed the entire bucket. “PIE!!” he screamed, running away with the bucket. “ “ emoticonned the Matoran. “Sorry about that,” said the Krekka-costumed Toa as they all pushed the barrels out of the way and stood up. “He does that sometimes. Maybe try cake next time?” They moved on to the next house. “Burn-or-stuff!” said 2015 Tahu. Krekka elbowed him in the ribs. “It’s ‘trick-or-treat,’ you moron…” “Oh yeah. Trick-or-treat!” “That’s much better.” Takua opened the door, holding a bucket of Bula flavored candy for everyone. Then he caught sight of Takanuva. “How-but-what the paradox-how can this-huh-so confused-WHAT THE KARZAHNI!?” Takua then fainted. “Uh...oops?” They knocked at the next house, which turned out to be not a house at all, but a Turaga’s Home. Turaga Vakama answered the door. This time, the Rahkshi of Letter Control was first in line. The Turaga immediately set down his bucket of candy and pulled out his firestaff, proceeding to bonk the costumed Toa on the head with it. “Back! You foul creature! One more step and I’ll--” “Sorry, he does that,” muttered Turaga Onewa, poking his head out from around the corner and pulling the other Turaga back. “He’s going a bit senile. Dume, can you take care of our fiery friend?” Turaga Dume emerged from the house, still wearing his pumpkin-headed Kanohi. “Come on, Vakama, I have a mask for you to forge!” “Mask forging? WOOHOO! “ “Anyway, here you go. Enjoy!” Turaga Onewa passed out some very strange-shaped and oddly hard candy. “What is this?” asked the Rahkshi of Letter Control. “It’s my favorite candy: Rocks!” answered Onewa with a . After leaving the Turaga’s Home, they arrived at a house in Ga-Metru. Macku answered the door. “Uh…” said the first Toa in line, the one dressed as a Klakk blinking in a blizzard in Ko-Wahi. “What is it we say again?” Krekka slapped his forehead. “Trick-or-treat, you moron!” “Right, sorry, momentarily forgot.” Then, to Macku, he said, “Trick-or-treat, you moron!” “How dare you!” she shrieked, and slammed the door in their faces. The Toa all looked at each other. “This is turning into a disaster,” said the Rahkshi of Letter Control. “Isn’t that how Dume’s holidays always go?” answered the Rock Monster. After numerous other houses and various misadventures, they finally arrived at the last stop on the island, a large hut in Le-Metru. Krekka knocked on the door, and an orange Turaga Matau opened it. “Trick-or-treat!” “ “ emoticonned Matau. “What’s so funny?” asked the Rahkshi of Letter Control. “Sorry about that, I have no idea why he keeps laughing,” said Turaga Nokama, pushing Matau away and grabbing a bucket full of Bula-covered chocolates. “Here you go!” “Uh, not to be rude, but...shouldn’t those be ‘chocolate-covered Bula?’ interjected Krekka. “Because ‘Bula-covered chocolate’ doesn’t make sense.” Nokama glanced at the rappers again, and shrugged. “They say ‘Bula-covered chocolate,’ so I guess that’s what they are,” she decided. The Toa glanced over at the rappers as well. “Bula-covered chocolates, in the house, They taste really good in a hut or a house, Yo DJ Kongu is here to say, That we hope you have a Bula-covered holiday!” rapped DJ Kongu and the other rappers. “ “ the Toa and Nokama emoticonned in unison. Nokama looked at the wrappers on the candy to double-check, as well. “Yep, these also say ‘Bula-covered chocolate.’ Hmm...well, here you go!” She then passed out the oddly-named candy to the costumed Toa. “ “ emoticonned Matau from inside the house. “WHAT is so funny?” demanded Nokama. “You’ll...haha...see...hahahahaha...for...heheha...yourself!” The Toa glanced at each other. “Uh...okay then.” The Rock Monster pulled out one of the Bula-covered chocolates and unwrapped it, taking a massive bite. “I wonder what these taste like?” he asked. Then it exploded in his mouth, sending his mask flying off and also sending his regular mask underneath his costume mask flying off, causing him to pass out. Matau burst out laughing harder than ever. “MATAU! Did you replace those candies with chocolate-covered Madu?” “Maybe…” THE END Skritch the Word Counting Fikou: This chapter has 2,401 words. ~Happy Halloween from Lewa# Studios! Lewa0111 Nuva (Note: I actually rather like the new 2015 designs and have nothing against them. I just thought it would be fun to use them in a joke. No offense intended!)
  2. Happy (belated) Halloween, everyone! Thought I'd provide a few updates for everyone about my comedies and such given that I've been away for a little while. First of all, the Lewa# Studios Holiday Series has returned! "Why Toa Shouldn't Trick-Or-Treat" has just been posted (a few days late, yes; Halloween itself kept me quite busy this year!) Featuring costumed Toa, Tava shenanigans, and some interesting trick-or-treating. Check it out! Also, BZ-Nui Hack Wars is not dead. Due to an apparent lack of interest in the comedy, I haven't felt too motivated to update lately but I will try to get more chapters up when I can. I've also been taking a glance at Ask Matau! and TNI, but I can't make any promises on those two. If nothing else, once Hack Wars has finished I will repost Comedicle and start continuing that. But we'll see. Finally, I hope you all had a great Halloween and I will be seeing you all again this Thanksgiving for another installment of the Holiday Series! (And will be busy keeping Tava away from all the pies, of course...) Lewa0111 Nuva
  3. I couldn't let Halloween pass by without writing a seasonal short story to join in all the spookiness. This is the latest installment in an ongoing blog, "Sahmad's Tales", which I'm writing in-character as Sahmad on tumblr (are we allowed to link there?). Because of that, it references several events and encounters that Sahmad's experienced in that blog, in addition to his exploits in Sahmad's Tale. If none of this makes sense to you, you should go read the blog and check it out! I should mention that, this being Halloween, the following story is meant to be scary. I would say it's well-deserving of a PG-13 rating, so if that sounds #2spooky4u, you should probably do yourself a favor and skip it. Happy Halloween... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Even by night, the Great Jungle steams with warm, sweltering air, curling around the trees, hanging heavy on the branches and vines. Of course, the forest is by no means asleep. The forest never sleeps. Crickets chitter and wings flutter from every corner of the canopy. Centipedes half the length of an Agori crawl up and down the vast trees. Bats -- some smaller than your hand, some twice your height -- flit everywhere, feasting on a cloud of gleaming insects, plucking the choicest meals from the swarm. The forest is awake, and so am I. I like to sleep. I like to sleep because I like to dream; dreaming reminds that I’m still alive. But it’s not easy, especially as of late. The things I’ve seen... the things that I’ve encountered in the past few months have left scars on my soul that will never heal. Images are carved into the inside of my skull, and I can never stop seeing them. Some are enemies. Annona. The baterra. The screaming thing that stalked the tunnels of Roxtus. Others are friends, companions, people I’ve known and lost. My father. My brother. Aviruk, Xela, Telluris. Phantom. Her. Those ones are worse. I see them in their last moments, begging for mercy that they won’t receive -- or I see them the day I lost sight of them, the day they slipped away into the uncaring world and vanished into the void. Better to focus on the animals. The day I saw a sandfish leap from the desert, soar over a crested dune, gleaming in the golden sunlight. The herds of sand stalkers roaming the earth, magnificent in their multitudes. My spikit, and the hard-fought battle to tame her. All of these give me warmth and fleeting happiness, but not peace. Never peace. I sigh. I know I won’t be sleeping tonight. I rise, stretch my limbs, and fasten my armor and helmet before grabbing a knife. You can’t take an evening stroll through the jungle without a knife. The vines alone would tangle and snare you, sure as any spiderweb, and leave you for the raptors. It also helps keep the wing-leeches away, and a bit of moonlight reflecting off the blade can spook most creatures. I only hope I don’t step into any ants. Their legions forgive no trespass, and they’re too small to stab. The jungle by night has a strange, dangerous allure. The canopy barely lets any moonlight trickle through, and the forest becomes a well of shadows. A crunch, a rustle, a footstep could be anything or anyone. It’s not for the faint of heart, but for the curious fools like me, it’s a lovely game. I whirl at a sound -- only a monitor lizard. It glances up at me, holding its head high, before scurrying off into the leaves to run down rats and insects. Knife at the ready, I keep moving along. The shadows stretch all around, yawning, gaping -- pulling at me. Every gap between trees, every clearing of leaves presents a new path to follow, a new place to explore. After I came of age, exploring the jungle was my favorite pastime. I could spend years doing this. Once, I actually did, after losing track of time during a personal retreat. She wasn’t very happy with me afterwards, but we made up. After all, the only thing that vexed her was that I neglected to bring her along. We were kindred souls, both explorers at heart. But I mustn’t think of that. I came out here to forgot about such things. She’s not here anymore... none of them are... not friendly Xela, not stony-faced Aviruk, not even batty old Telluris. Just me. Out of all the ones who hid on Bara Magna, I’m the only survivor. For that matter, if the Wild Ones have had their way here, I might be the only one left on all the earth. Another noise, just behind me! This one sounded something like a centipede, its many legs skittering up knotted tree-bark. But as I turn, there isn’t a tree for several meters. What was that, then? Some peculiar insect’s call? Perhaps a spider scuttling across the undergrowth? I turn back, taking a step forwards. As the leaves crackle under my foot, I stop short -- heartbeat and all. A figure is standing ahead of me, just at the edge of the gloom, silhouetted by total blackness. I’ve met some unsavory characters in the jungle these past few weeks, but then again, I’ve met loving and caring ones, too. Can’t assume the worst of someone, else I’d be no better than the rest of the Agori. “Curious time to be out walking, isn’t it?” “I could ask the same of you, Sahmad,” comes a voice, one strangely familiar. Is it -- her? No, it couldn’t be, that’s just wishful thinking. But who...? “Who are you, if you don’t mind my asking? You recognize me, and yet you’re not running in panic, so that makes you a very special citizen of Spherus Magna.” “Clever Sahmad. Your wit’s just as young and fresh as the rest of you,” says the figure, stepping closer. Whose voice it is, I think I know -- but that can’t be possible. Can it? “...Xela?” The light is just enough to show my companion’s wrinkled, smiling face. Her tawny eyes glimmer with a youthful air alien to her aged skin. There’s no doubt about it. This is Xela. “Oh, Sahmad, you haven’t aged a day!” Xela grins, wrapping me in a hug. I can’t help but return the favor. “I can’t believe it. All these years, and you’re just the same as ever!” “Hardly, Xela. I’ve gone through a lot lately,” I reply, recalling my recent exploits. “Skrall are everywhere nowadays, and you know how hard it is to bargain with them.” “True. But if I had to choose any merchant to do it, it’d be you!” Xela says, chuckling. “I swear, even rocks bend to your will.” “You flatter me. Now, how is Garut? And Samis?” I feel a rush of excitement. “Tell me everything!” “Why tell when I can show?” Xela replies. “Come, follow me. It’s the Day of Chill Winds; everyone’s headed inside for the winter. You’re just in time for the feast.” The table spread before us is rich with food and wine. Grain from the Earth Tribe, rich meat caught by the Jungle Tribe, with exotic spices and dishes brought from the corners of the globe by the Water Tribe. Children dance around the table, wearing patchwork wooden masks and brandishing spears and sticks. The cave chamber is furnished with orange torches and macabre decorations. It’s all part of the autumn festival, when the tribe retreats into the mountain caves for the winter. Supposedly, the masks and decor are meant to scare off the cave scorpions and keep them from preying on the tribe as we wait out the winter. I’ve always found simply avoiding cave scorpion nests to be a more successful strategy than antagonizing them, but I can’t say no to some good fun. After all, the kids will be cooped up all season; better to get all that restless energy out of the way quickly. Xela seats me between Aviruk and Metus, serving me a lavish plate of lizard-fish and Fire Tribe pasta. While Aviruk discusses politics with Samis, I turn to Metus and introduce myself. “I hear business is booming in the Frost. You Ice Tribers had better not beat us at our own game, or else there’ll be trouble!” “Do I need to worry about an Iron Tribe army?” Metus says, then adds, “That’s a joke. Business is great, Sahmad. They’ve just struck a massive vein of exisidian next to the white quartz deposits; seems like it goes all the way to the planet’s core. Say, I’m no Fire Triber, but I’ve always felt that your ores would make excellent alloys with exsidian. They’re too proud to accept a proposal from some coldhearted Ice Triber like me, but with your force of personality combined with my tactical mind, I think we could make something great. After all, triple the tribes means triple the profit -- but, of course, who says we’d need to give the Fire Tribe an even share? That’s a joke.” I’ve finished my ravenous assault on the lizard-fish, and Xela is happy to whisk away my plate, leaving the table momentarily clear before me. As Metus yammers on about his dealings with some uptight Fire Tribe merchant, I can’t help but glance down at the table and notice that someone has etched in the dark wood a small, equilateral triangle. “Say, what’s this all about? Did you see who did this?” I ask Metus. He shrugs. “Didn’t see it. Might have come like that. You know how Jungle Tribers are -- they’ll try to slip rotting wood past you and charge you full payment. Darn tree-climbing apes still haven’t gotten used to walking on two legs!” When my smile fails to reappear, he hastily adds his disclaimer that the remark was, in fact, a joke, but I’m not paying attention. Scribed in the stone beside my foot is another triangle. “That’s... peculiar,” I murmur. “I’ll say,” mutters Telluris, looming over my shoulder. He discards his drink and kneels to the ground, whisking out his inspection goggles. “I always carry these with me; you’d be surprised how often they come in handy!” “Yes, yes, but what’s this all about?” I ask, glancing around and noticing three more triangles, all carved in the walls and ceiling. “It’s going to cost us to fill these in, you know!” “Calm down, Sahmad, dear,” says Xela. “I’m sure it was just some child’s ill-devised prank. I’ll track the little scamp down and make sure their parents give them a good talking-to.” “No, it’s... it’s more than that. I don’t know how, but these mean something.” More triangles on the wall, almost as if they’d just appeared. A tribesman walks by, carrying an emptied plate with a triangle carved in the clay. “Well, of course they mean something, Sahmad!” Telluris says, chuckling. “Do you mean to say you don’t know the story of the Ancient Trinity?” “No, I don’t. I mean, I mean to say that I don’t know the story,” I reply, annoyed at myself for becoming flustered. “Who is this Ancient Trinity, and what do they have to do with this petty vandalism?” “The Trinity?” Telluris says, and Metus says, and Xela says. Every voice in the room has spoken as one. I freeze. A triangle has been carved in Telluris’ jacket. “The Trinity, Sahmad. The three that exist, that will exist, that have always existed.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Really, I don’t.” “The thief. The coward. The madman,” Telluris says, stepping forwards, still wearing those ridiculous goggles. “They change names, change faces, but the roles remain the same. It’s all echoes, Sahmad. Just echoes of the Three Who Were, at the beginning of time, and at the end.” “Stop this!” I cry. “Look, Telluris, if I’m going to have to spend months in a cave with you, at least try to make it bearable!” A torch goes out. I notice another triangle in the floor. Telluris keeps moving, and now Metus, too, rises, walking towards me. His form shifts and slithers, like a serpent. “The thief. The coward. The madman,” Metus says. “Of course, who’s to say I’m the coward, or that he’s the madman?” “I’d call you both madmen at this point,” I say, reaching for my jungle-knife and finding only a spoon. Another torch goes out. “She is not dead. She can never die, not so long as her work persists,” say the two lunatics in unison. “The spawn of madness will haunt the world in her absence, even as her faithful work to bridge the divide between worlds and undo the mortal’s trick.Your trick.” Something tugs at the back of my mind. Spawn of madness...? But that’s irrelevant. Best deal with these two. It seems that everyone else in the room has vanished. It’s just me, them, and an ever-growing horde of triangles. “You have offended her. Harmed her, even humiliated her,” they chant. “You have gone against the sacred order of things that Have Been and Will Always Be. You, some pitiable ape who dares to reach above his station, will fall, just as your Great Beings will fall, and all those whom you call friend!” “Well, I’ve got you there. I don’t call anyone ‘friend’ nowadays; they’re all dead and gone,” I say, starting to remember. “Even you’re dead, Telluris! How do you like that?” “I adore it,” Telluris says, and grins. His smile stretches from ear to ear, then past that, stretching, curling, lifting up the flaps of his skin and peeling back the flesh. As the last layers curl off and hang to the sides, his bare skull continues to grin, still wearing those accursed goggles. His bone is scorched and burnt, and his outstretched hands are blackened and sizzling. “I know her, Sahmad, and she knows me. She knows all of us, in the end. Our hopes, our dreams, our nightmares -- we bare our souls to her, every night. And in death, we return to her.” “You’re lying. She doesn’t have that kind of power,” I growl. “No one has that kind of power!” Now only one torch remains in the room, flickering across a chamber covered in scrawled triangles. It might just be the light, but I could swear I see shapes moving up the tunnels, headed for the room, and I hear a scuttling behind me. “They’re coming for you, Sahmad,” says Telluris, grinning, as Metus coils around his arms and bares his fangs. “The Malformed will have you. The Screamer, the Bloody One, the Gateway. They crawl under the Spawn of Fear’s banner, and they see you. They feel you. They will find you, Sahmad, they will claim you, and they will drag you down into the fate you so richly deserve!” My back hits the wall. There’s nowhere I can go. Telluris and Metus stand before me; the creatures coming through the tunnels are almost visible; the last torch sputters and prepares to die. I look down. Another triangle, this one carved around me. I’m standing in it. As I look down, its edges move inwards, erasing rock and stone where they go, opening up an empty void. I reach out, try to grab something, anything, but I grab only scorching mist -- and I fall. I wake, mouth panting, heart pounding, slicked in sweat. Despite the jungle’s vibrant air, I feel a terrible chill in my veins. A soft orange glow spreads from one horizon. Good -- daylight is here. I might as well get up; I’m certainly not doing any more sleep, not after that hellish ordeal. My limbs quiver as I stand and take shaky steps down the path, and my fingers twitch, tapping my knife-hilt: rat-tat-tat-tat, rat-tat-tat-tat. I try to control my breathing. Everything is safe. The sun is rising, the monkeys are howling. The heat must be getting to me, that’s what it is. Well, it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity. 100,000 years in a desert leaves a body woefully unprepared to face this kind of environment. The drastic change must have brought on a mock fever. Or perhaps I have caught something; who’s to say that Water Tribe healer practiced proper sanitation? Maybe my wound from the Dark Hunters has developed gangrene. No, probably just climate shock; no need to overthink it. The stream babbles in front of me, and I see six-legged silverfish leaping from the waters, frolicking in the growing sunlight. The sight calms a weary mind. The danger has passed; it was only a fevered fiction in my mind. Annona is dead, or just as well, and there’s nothing she can do about it. It’s time to wash up and go back to work on the memorial stones. I kneel down before the stream, unclasp my helmet, and glance down at my reflection. I pause. There’s a scratch on my cheek. I lean in closer to inspect it, and -- The face staring back at me isn’t mine. It can’t be mine. After all, my face isn’t covered entirely in tiny, equilateral triangles. A screaming noise begins to echo in the back of my mind, building, intensifying to a keening pitch. It takes me several moments to realize it’s coming from me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Please give reviews and constructive criticisms below! If you liked the story, you should check out "Sahmad's Tales" to find more of the same. I intend to post "Last Respects", the tale of Sahmad's journey through Bota Magna, in the coming weeks, if the fates align, and I have at least one more story arc planned for afterwards. Thank you, and Happy Halloween!
  4. Headless Horseman and Nightmare ^Flickr Album ^ Quick Links: Horse Side Headless Horseman Both I recently read through the actual story of Sleepy Hollow (was pretty dull actually) and I really wanted to try building this guy for Halloween. I'm really happy with how it turned out. I wanted to actually use primarily CCBS for the Nightmare, and I really like how it turned out. The Headless Horseman is supposed to resemble a Protector in body design. To me, the Toxic Reapa face looked like a suitable Jack-O-Lantern, but it is green. In universe, I'd imagine he races through the deep forest of Okoto each night, protecting the Spiritual Balance of the island, which the Toa have offset. I'd like to enter him into the the BftGM contest, but the jury is still out whether he'd be acceptable. So, comment, critique, and Happy Halloween!
  5. I knew none of the costumes, the premise was ridiculous, I clicked the thing that made Homsar appear, and the click-a-costume dialog was wonderful. ALL IS AS IT SHOULD BE! ♥
  6. For LEGO's Brick Your Pumpkin challenge, I made a quick Hero Factory pumpkin hero. His name is Jack O'Lantern and he ensures that everyone stays safe on Halloween and gets lots of candy. This is a little ridic and even though I rarely build with pieces that aren't System, this was really fun! I made the shoulder armor Bionicle masks, because you've have to represent. For the H, I carved it out, and then whittled away around the sides to make the H pop out in a similar fashion to the Hero cores.
  7. Eldritch AbominationYou feelThat inexplicable, utterly chilling senseThat you are being watched.Up and down your spineIn wavesThe icy electricity goes shudderingAnd you tense, frightenedReady to runBut there’s no warningNone at all.From the darkness behind youA hiss.The fear grips you again.You feelYour shoulders being torn backwardYour body being lifted off the ground like a rag doll—It got you.The creature is revealedIn the brief instant it steps into the lightThe sight is horrible;The grotesque features unveiled.You scream in unadulterated fearThe knife-sized teeth advanceReady to tear your body apart.The dream is realBut it’s too late.With another hiss,The creature darts its bloody mawAwful jaws agapeDown toward you.You cry out againIn horrorIn painIn terrible agony.Its tentacles consume youAnd it all ends. ~ :: ~
  8. It's the review you've all been waiting for, and it's just in time for Halloween. This is by far the most monstrous of the Monster Fighters sets, and I hope that I can convey its awesomeness in every detail by giving you a great review. So, let's get to it!PresentationFrom the design of the box to the instruction manual, these are the first things you see before building the set. The box is quite large. Comparing it to other large set boxes I own, it's larger than that of Pharaoh's Forbidden Ruins, as long and thick as Vampyre Castle's, but wider (where thickness < width < length). The back of the box displays all the features of the house, which are mostly from the set's shop at home page. It also shows the house opened up and the glow-in-the-dark feature of the ghosts. The front of the box reminds me a lot the haunted house from I Spy Spooky Night, which was part of the motivation of getting the set (also because it looks REALLY AWESOME). Now, I've built sets with two instruction booklets before, e.g. Nui Jaga and Tarakava. This is the first set I've ever built with three different instruction booklets. Count 'em. Three. One for each story of the house. I kid you not: the first booklet is dedicated to the minifigures, the details within the house (like the phonograph, potted plant, writing desk, etc.), and the first story; the second booklet is entirely devoted to the second story; and the third booklet is dedicated to the attic, roof, and gate.But enough of the fancy pictures that you see before the build, let's look at the build itself...BuildingHalf the fun is had building the set. How fun is it to build and how easy or challenging is it?This set, with picture-taking time included, took me over eight hours to build. Now, I'm a fussy builder in that I'm obsessed with the LEGO printed on the bricks to align a certain way and such, so if I were trying to speed-build I would probably have been able to build it in less time. But EIGHT HOURS! That's a long build.Let's look at the pieces. The top row is just pictures of the pieces in their respective bags. Note that there are about six bags that constitute bag 4 and similarly for bags 2 and 3. The second row is the dumped-out pieces for bags 1 and 2, since the other bags' pieces just wouldn't fit into the picture/I was lazy. At 2064 pieces, it's not surprising that there are this many bags, but I found it entertaining that there were six-ish bags labeled with the same number.Oh, yeah, there are over 2000 pieces in this set. Just so you know.The first things you build (besides the minifigs – we'll get to those later) are the detail pieces: I'll have one heart with a side of femur. There is a lot of creativity in these details. First off, I love the phonograph. I don't know if it's because of the creative use of a pith helmet for the horn or the fact that it's a phonograph makes the attic feel even older, but it's one of my favorite parts of this set. The antlers that hang in the bedroom are another nice detail. Two taps and four of the newer skeleton arms gives you a pair of antlers; who knew? The old bed without a mattress is pretty cool, and the stove/oven combo is cute. I also like the use of tan bricks/tiles for the old newspapers. The old lamps with the clear minifig heads also give the interior that very old home feel as well, along with the quills by the writing desk. My favorite, though, is that little phonograph.The next thing you build is the first story: For me the cool part about building the first story was putting in place all the mismatched cobblestones on the front entrance and in the kitchen. I also love the zombie-head pillars in the front of the house; they're comedic and yet very dark, as though the architect thought about actually using zombie heads as part of the design. I also like the detail on the railing of the awning/porch/whatever on the top of the first story. The little hand-clips jutting out in crooked directions adds to the old, broken feeling of this house.Since the details are built first, they're put in after the structure around where they go is finished: Because, you know, every healthy kitchen has a spider web on the wall. However, no details go into the entrance hall, since the staircase takes up a good portion of one side and the other free walls have windows.Speaking of the stairs, let's journey up to the second story... The second story build is rather similar to the first, but without the loose cobblestones on the floor. It's rather bare inside until you add the details, much like the first floor. Oh noes! I forgot to hang the awesome picture of Frankie in his white tux on prom night! The bedroom looks like your typical undead sleeping pad. With pictures hanging of friends and family, some undead deer skull, a rickety unfurnished bed, and an empty wardrobe, it's ideal for the everyday vampire who's trying to get away from all the stresses of life. The writing desk at the top of the stairs is in a nice corner by the window(s) so the maximum amount of moonlight is available when writing to those creepy, alive relatives of yours. I also like that there's a railing at the top of the stairs, but no railing following them down to the first floor. Clearly safety is of no concern during the transition between stories.But why spend time in the main parts of the house? Everyone knows that the most haunted part of a haunted house is the attic... Again we see use of the hand-clip things that were used on the exterior of the first story, which I think are used wonderfully. Notice that the attic details are added during the build rather than at the very end, which I thought was interesting. The chimney is finally complete, and the house is nearly done! All we have to do is add the roof. There! All done! There's nothing left to build... oh, wait, there's this tiny little gate... Honestly, building the gate after this behemoth of a house is kind of an anticlimactic end to a build, but whatever. It actually does add to the feel of the house; an old estate owned by some enterprising vampire with a gate just yelling "keep out" is much spookier than one without a gate.Set DesignNow that the set is complete, we can critique how it looks from every angle. New or interesting pieces can also be examined here. You can just drool at this picture, if you like. No reason to read any further. This set is beautiful inside and out. Let's first look at the out: The back of the house is fairly bland, but no one ever looks at the back of a house (unless you're creepily lurking in the back yard, you creeper). The front, however, is straight out of a scary movie or Halloween-themed I Spy book. The detail is where this set shines, from the boarded up windows to the shutters hanging at weird angles to the exposed bricks (actual bricks, not LEGO, silly) on the walls. I also like the side entrance with its own little roof above the door.Now, let's look at the inside, shall we? I apologize for the light glare going on in some of these pics. The inside is pretty awesome, too. I think my two favorite rooms are the bedroom and the attic, since I feel they have the most going on in them. The stuff all being piled up in the attic is exactly as an attic should be; the only thing that would complete it is if there a couple of cobwebs floating around (rather than in the kitchen ). I've already talked about the other two stories, so no need to beat a dead horse.Let's also take this opportunity to look at the minifigs this set has to offer. Some of them you've seen already: This is the third set in which you can obtain Lord Vampyre, and if you don't want to grab Vampyre's Castle, this set gives you an alternative to obtain his bride as well. The ghost is the same as those in the Ghost Train save for the fact that he doesn't have traditional minifig legs, but instead a 1×2 plate on top of a 1×2 brick, making him one plate shorter than a normal minifig (the Ghost in the polybag promotional is the same). You get two of him in this set.This set also comes with two exclusive minifigures: The butler reminds me of Lurch from The Addams Family. Also, something KK pointed out to me as I was showing him this set over Skype was that all incarnations of Frankenstein's monster (including this one) have their heads shut a different way; the LEGO Studios monster has a zipper, the series minifigure has bandages, the Crazy Scientist's monster in Monster Fighters has safety pins, and Lurch here has crisscross stitches. The chef's head is the same as that of the zombie driver, but his body is new with stains of sauce/rust/whatever. It'd be pretty cool if his toque had rips/stains printed on it, too.PlayabilityThe other half of the fun is in playing with the set. How well does the set function and is it enjoyable to play with?While this set is geared toward AFOLs, it also has great potential for playing. You can make it the setting of a spooky LEGO story, like a bunch of kids breaking in and trying to prove they're brave by spending the night in the house, or as another battle site for Rodney Rathbone and his Monster Fighters to prevent the total eclipse of the sun.Or you could do what I do and pull the lever that makes the attic's stairs come down; the sound is so rewarding.Final ThoughtsOnce it's all said and done, how does the set stack up? Should I get it?If you have the cash, go and buy this set. It's 180 USD, but for over 2000 pieces and an awesome Halloween decoration that you spend hours building, it's a good treat (or trick).ProsWhat's to like? It's beautifulSeriously, just look at itAmazing detailCool minifiguresPhonographConsWhat's not to like? The price (justified by how ginormous it is)The back is bland (but who looks at the back?)I hope I was able to provide a good review of arguably one of LEGO's most amazing detailed sets.
  9. Remember my Akaku Pumpkin? (It's a dead topic and all that.) Well, this year, I made a Kraahkan pumpkin carving.And in the light.So, I hope you like it! At one Kanohi a year, I can get all the known ones done in less than a century, so hopefully this will be an annual thing. C&C is much appreciated.Happy Halloween!
  10. Edelgard

    ROBOTS!

    ROBOTS!The Third Annual Vultraz Halloween SpecialRadiak’s CaféRadiak hummed to himself as he crawled upon his four legs inside the business room, where the two rivals Mazeka and Vultraz sat facing each other, arguing over a truce.“-you clearly stated in your letter that you had been a baby all this time and that the diner really was mine!” Vultraz was saying. “Why can’t I seem to pound that into your skull? You wrote it!”“I never wrote you anything! You sent me that letter!” Mazeka yelled.“Both of you are wrong, losers.” Radiak hissed, pushing a button that caused a platform to lift him into the air so that he stood over both Vultraz and Mazeka. “I wrote those letters so that both of you would come here.”Mazeka glanced around as the doors all slammed shut and the windows became barred, trapping him and Vultraz with Radiak.“What do you want, Radiak?” Vultraz asked.“All these years your stupid diner with its disgusting menu items and its extremely questionable moral practices has had better business than my quaint little café.” Radiak said. “I hate that, and I hate you.”“It’s because you’re a creepy spider guy with four legs.” Vultraz said.“Don’t judge me!” Radiak snapped.“We’ll judge you all we like! What are you going to do about it?” Mazeka asked.“Everything!” Radiak screeched. “I’ve been waiting for so long, and finally my plans are complete! I will run that horrendous diner you both care so much for down with my infinitely respawning army of robots!”“Aw, crud.” Vultraz said.“And I’m going to kill the two of you!” Radiak cried with glee.“Yeah right!” Mazeka said.Radiak responded by leaping down and jamming one of his one-toe legs through Mazeka’s chest. Mazeka’s eyes bulged out as he realized that Vultraz didn’t have the most disgusting feet in the universe before he passed out.“There! That’s one dead!”“I hate to break it to you...” Vultraz said. “But he’s probably not dead.”Radiak lunged at him, but Vultraz side stepped and allowed him to crash into the chair. The Matoran with semi-normal feet pulled out his plastic spoon and swung, slamming it down on Radiak’s back... only for the spoon to shatter.“Muahaha!” Radiak laughed maniacally. “My evil plan worked!”“What the – my spoon! My plastic spoon! How did you break it?!”“That’s Part 2 of my plan many years in the making!” Radiak yelled with triumph. “I developed a body suit that was specifically designed to destroy your one and only plastic spoon! You are now weaponless!”“I hate you.”“I am undefeatable!”“Does your body suit protect you from my toxic feet?”“Your toxic – um... uh... yes?”“Good! Have a whiff!”Vultraz stepped on Radiak with a crunch and, once his rival had stopped twitching like a bird, pulled the remote out of his pocket and pressed the single button on it. The room was promptly unlocked, and he bid his exit immediately.To Be Continued.
  11. A quick build for Halloween. It's not really that stable on the glasses, but it still works to some extent.Gallery
  12. TNTOS

    Fanfic News

    As of this morning, I finished the third draft of my upcoming epic, Dawn of the New Century. I think it's really good, but I am going to go ahead and write a fourth draft because, while third draft is good, I came up with some ideas that I didn't put into the third draft and I really don't feel like tossing them after the fact. So a fourth draft it is. When will I write this fourth draft, you ask? Why, starting next month, for NaNoWriMo, of course! Normally, I reserve NaNoWriMo for original fiction (which doesn't explain why I wrote The Legend Reloaded and Dimension Hoppers during it, but whatevs). However, I really want to get Dawn finished as quickly as possible, so I am going to write the fourth draft of Dawn during NaNoWriMo. Not sure if that's against the rules or not, but who cares about the rules IT'S NANOWRIMO DARN IT! Anyway, for NaNo, expect to see me update my word count daily here on this blog. I'll be bringing back the old NaNo word count content block from previous years, so expect to see that tomorrow. As for TLI, it's still coming out December 1st, don't worry. Unlike TLR and TLE, I am currently editing TLI. As it is my last (planned) comedy, I want it to be as good as I can possibly make it without betraying the heart of the Legend Trilogy. It'll still be as crazy and awesome as the last two, but the plot will be slightly more coherent, more like my usual style of writing. So there's that to look forward to. Memories, a short story involving Toa Chimoy (a character from the Shika Trilogy), will probably not come out until the end of the year, if that. I haven't gotten around to editing it yet and probably won't until NaNo is over. Not going to say much, but it is a romance story, although not the kind of romance story you might be thinking of. Also, happy Halloween! I'll probably just be chilling at home eating candy, maybe watch a movie or something. No trick-or-treating for this 18-year-old, especially since I don't have a costume to wear. That's all for now, so see ya, -TNTOS-
  13. Sisen

    My body is ready...

    For the Halloween party after work tomorrow. I have my wizard cosplay all ready to go, but the necklace I had ordered from Canada did not arrive today... Oh well, I can always wear it on Halloween. I have to work around nine hours tomorrow, and then I have two hours to kill until the store closes and the party begins. There's no point in going home because its almost an hour each way, so if I go home I'd have to just drive back as soon as I get there.... On the upside I could go see a movie or just take a nap in the break room.
  14. Hi again, I'm going to show you my best attempt at TransforMOCs ever. Watching Transformer movies helped me a lot to make some decent transforming robot. This one was made for the sixth BCBS challenge on MOCpages, a Halloween-themed contest. I wanted to build a skeleton or pumpkin man, and I thought of a TransforMOC, and I mixed all three ideas, which explains the color scheme and the transforming ability of my entry.Car formNormal formBack viewBackstory: There was a man, a mad scientist, who worked on mutagens. In the night of Halloween, dressed up as a Skeleton, he was driving his car with a bottle of mutagen in his bag. He accidentaly crashed on a wall and broke the bottle. Instead of dying, he fused with his car and his clothes. When becoming biomechanical, he felt most of his internal organs were missing, giving him a hollow feeling. So he called himself "Dr Holloween" and disappeared in the night for new adventures.Thoughts welcomed.
  15. So, in a somewhat recent blog entry I mentioned that LEGO had two new Series Minifigure 3-packs; the Halloween Accessory Set and the Rock Band Minifigure Accessory Set. Well, I bought the former of the two when I obtained half of the Series 8 Minifigures, so I figured I'd review this little 3-pack.PresentationFrom the design of the box to the instruction manual, these are the first things you see before building the set. The box is just like that of the luau set: a flexible plastic container with lids on top and bottom. The minifigures are proudly displayed in the front just like the olden days where big sets had a box flap that opened to reveal the minifigures and other special pieces to look forward to. It was a simpler time; it was a better time. The background keeps with the Monster Fighters theme with an eerie full moon in the background, which of course works perfectly for a Halloween set. The back is similar and pretty much repeats the picture garnished underneath with a healthy dose of legalese.BuildingHalf the fun is had building the set. How fun is it to build and how easy or challenging is it? Simple build is simple. Like the luau set, there isn't much substance other than the minifigures themselves, thus the build doesn't take more than five minutes.Set DesignNow that the set is complete, we can critique how it looks from every angle. New or interesting pieces can also be examined here. Copy and paste? I have no idea what you're talking about... This is it. Other than the minifigures, this is the set. The tombstone is pretty cool, and the design with the bat and "RIP" is a printed piece, not a sticker, which is definitely a plus. It's a cute little grave for a cute little set. But, this isn't the important part. Let's take a look at the minifigs... I personally don't see a resemblance... The witch is exactly the same as the Series 2 minifigure, which is good for those who may not have snagged her when she came out, because frankly, she's pretty awesome. Interestingly, her hands are black in the set and in the original series release, but her hands on the box art are dark bley. O.o Ebenezer Scrooge...! The ghost in this set is the same as the Monster Fighters ghost, but he comes with chains to rattle like Jacob Marley. I like this new take on the classic ghost minifigure that made his appearance in Time Twisters and Castle sets, since he has that little tail on the back of his head and is making an eerily awesome moan with his mouth. He also does not have actual legs, and instead has a brick and plate combo for his feet (like in the Haunted House set, which I eagerly am waiting to buy...). Grr...argh... To be honest, this was the real reason for me wanting to get this set. The zombie. Almost the same as the Series 1 zombie (which is now ridiculously priced on Bricklink!) except his clothes have changed; his tie and jacket have switched colors. This is fine, as his face is now available to buy again, and he's still as endearing and adorable as ever.PlayabilityThe other half of the fun is in playing with the set. How well does the set function and is it enjoyable to play with?I mean, let's face it; this set is to enhance your minifigure collection. Don't get me wrong, the grave is a cool, spooky addition to any Halloween-type set you have, but as far as playability, there isn't functionality or anything like that.Final ThoughtsOnce it's all said and done, how does the set stack up? Should I get it?If you want to add these minifigures to your collection, hop on this deal. The ghost, which is normally only in the Ghost Train and Haunted House sets, is now available here for a fairly decent price, and if you missed the Series Witch or Zombie you'll want to get this. I will agree that the $15 that LEGO has priced this at is a bit high, but not terribly much more than the price of the Series Minifigures (plus an extra tombstone and critters!)ProsWhat's to like? ZOMBIE!!!WitchGhostGrave is cuteConsWhat's not to like? Price may be a bit high.I hope you all consider getting this one as the spooky season closes in on us. For the gallery, go here when it becomes public.
  16. well I'm a movie making master, ive been making them since I was 4,so i used to make costumes and whatnot untill i decided that i should make a bionicle one!yes i thought impossible, because im a detail freak,but i did it anyway heres the resultphotostream this is one of the bad pics. heres on of the great pics balta took of me while vacationing on voya nui, http://www.brickshelf.com/gallery/tobduk/costumes/nuparu-costume.jpgi was dressed up like nuparu as to not raise suspicion among the native matoran.and one of my johnny thunder costumes http://www.brickshel...es/p7140265.jpghttp://www.brickshel...es/p7140265.jpgthis was aslo featured in the game stop 360 cam its pretty epici was dressed as kai ZX also but have no pics :(im making a crystal king costume and i dont know what i should be for the lego themed costume contest
  17. simple ladies an gentleman's whatshallIbe forLegolands brick or treat costume contest!here are the things i can be (or any other suggestion will be appreciated)Johnny Thunder!Frank rock Pharaohs quest mummy!! nuparu inika!! power miners CRYSTAL KING! sincerely your favorite purple haired costume king~toa electro
  18. The moon shone overhead as Macku made her way home from the party. She slowly trudged down the sidewalk. The wind blew through the branches, making an eerie rustling noise. As she continued she happened to pass by the graveyard. She looked out over the dark, shadowy maze of headstones and tombs. She let out a small shudder. Even when she passed by it in the full light of day, it still gave her shivers. This particular cemetery was home to a number of criminals who had been executed when the Matoran first came to Spherus Magna. That had been long ago. Macku shook her head to clear away the fear. She was about to start walking again when a sharp, jagged noise broke through the night. It was the horrible squeal of a rusted hinge. The Ga-Matoran’s head swiveled to look at a large and crumbling tomb. Macku watched in wide-eyed fear as the tomb door began to move. Slowly it began to swing open, and its rusted hinges shrieked like banshees. Pieces of cement crumbled out of the doorway. Then Macku saw it. A skeletal hand reaching around the door. Little bits of dry, stringy flesh still clung to what was mostly bone. Slowly, whatever was inside began to emerge. It was little more than a skeleton, its bones rattled with every step. The massive, silvery skull glinted dully in the moonlight. The teeth were huge and pearly, and formed a grin on the ghoul’s face. Macku was able to identify him as a Skakdi because of it. A ragged, moth-eaten cape clung to his shoulders. He looked out at the world with a set of empty, cobwebbed eye-sockets. The creature casually looked around the graveyard. He started moving forward, and Macku watched as he stretched his limbs as though he were waking up from a long sleep. Then, a second figure emerged from the tomb. She was a Vortixx, and she looked as though she had once been beautiful. She was much taller than the skeleton, and still retained most of her flesh, though it was grayed with rot and her figure was emaciated. Her hair was a tangled mess, and Macku could see little worms writhing in it. She still had her eyes, but they were horribly bloodshot and slightly sunken into their sockets. Dust fell off of her long eyelashes as they blinked. Her skeletal companion turned and looked at her. “Good evening, Roodaka. You look great, especially for a dead woman.” To Macku’s surprise, his voice was not as deteriorated as his body. In fact, it sounded quite lively and lyrical. The tall Vortixx stuck her crumbling nose contemptibly in the air. “I know what you want, and I’m still not going to do it,” she said. Her voice also sounded as though it came from a live person as opposed to a corpse. It was actually quite soft and beautiful, but the words cut like a jagged knife. “Please,” the Skakdi asked in an almost groveling manner, “We only get to come up here once a year. Won’t you please do it?” The Vortixx walked away from him and sat down on a nearby stump. The Skakdi slumped his shoulders sadly, then shrugged. Suddenly he looked up. He turned his head to look at a nearby grave. What happened next astounded Macku. Something began to crawl out of the ground. It was wasn’t digging out of the ground, but coming out as one would emerge from water. It was another corpse, belonging to a Po-Matoran. Macku’s body tensed up with fear. She recognized who it was. The stone carver who made gravestones. He had died a year ago. “Good evening Ahkmou,” said the Skakdi, “How are you feeling on this bright autumn night?” The stone carver’s face, though rotted, still retained the same bitter, melancholy expression it has worn in life. “Dead,” he replied in his cold voice. He finished crawling from the ground and sat down on his headstone. Moments later, all the other denizens of the cemetery began to emerge in a similar fashion. They crawled forth from their resting places and stood up. Some of the rotted corpses began to mingle with each other as though they were at a party.Suddenly the loud screeches of a violin echoed throughout the graveyard. It played solo for a moment, but was then joined in by several more violins, as well as the rest of a phantom band. It was a waltz-like tune, both eerie and beautiful at the same time. Macku looked around frantically, but never spotted its source. She watched as the cadavers began to dance in time with the rhythm. All the while, more rose up from the ground to join in. A few, such as the Vortixx, did not. Currently she was sitting on the stump and looking bored. Macku watched as the Skakdi once again began to approach her, his maniacal grin shining in the moonlight. He bowed in a gentlemanly fashion. “Pardon me madam,” he said, “May I have this dance?” The Vortixx turned away from him, but he hardly seemed to notice. “You know I’m going to keep on asking until you do it,” he said cheerfully. The Vortixx still ignored him. Macku then saw a deteriorating Steltian make his way over to the two of them. The Ga-Matoran saw a look of disgust come across the face of the Vortixx. It seemed even more hateful than the glare she gave to the Skakdi. “Hello Roodaka,” the Steltian said in a deep voice, “I was wondering if you would care to join me for a dance?” The Vortixx’s decaying features sneered. Her clawed fingers suddenly shot out and wrapped around the Skakdi’s arm. “Come, Vezon,” she said as she stood up from the stump. They walked away from the Steltian, and Macku saw the Skakdi grin triumphantly at his opponent. The Vortixx and the Skakdi took up dancing positions, and began to waltz throughout the graveyard. Their joints creaked and groaned as they spun about, and dust flew off of the Skakdi’s cape and drifted in the rays of moonlight. The Skakdi grinned warmly at his companion, but the Vortixx never returned his friendly manner. She didn’t even look at him as they danced through the night. Still, more and more corpses were rising out of the ground. They danced either alone or in pairs, but they all eventually joined in. There were far more than the cemetery was capable of holding, leaving Macku to wonder where they were coming from. She was both frightened and amazed by the ghoulish sight. They leapt about in the pale light of the moon, laughing and singing with delight. Macku noticed that the music became louder and more dark the longer it played. And as it did so, the dancing became more wild and sporadic. The corpses whirled about so fast and so erratically that Macku saw several limbs fly across the graveyard. The creatures leapt about from tombstone to tombstone, and even tried to clime the dead, twisted trees that grew between them. Macku then saw the Skakdi and the Vortixx dancing upon the roof of their tomb. She watched as their loose, bony forms teetered unsteadily on the cracked shingles. The tarnished bits of their armor glinted dully in the moonlight. Macku held her breath as she watched. It seemed that at any moment, the wildly spinning pair would fall off. But they never did. A wild shriek suddenly pierced the chilly air. Macku looked to see a decomposing Matoran pointing to the east. A faint light was emerging from beyond the horizon. The others instantly froze, becoming so still that Macku found herself wondering if they had ever been moving at all. She felt an unnatural stillness in the air. Then, all Karzahni broke loose. The corpses began to scramble around the graveyard, diving back into the earth. Macku spotted some scooping up their detached limbs as they darted around each other. The dancing looked as though it had become a chaotic war. But as the sun continued to creep over the horizon, there were less and less cadavers in the graveyard. Eventually it came down to two, the Vortixx and the Skakdi. “That was fun,” said the Skakdi as he opened the tomb’s door for the Vortixx. The morbidly elegant creature sighed at the grinning skeleton. “I suppose so,” she said begrudgingly. Macku watched as the two went back into their tomb. With another shriek, the door closed, leaving Macku to live the rest of her life with something she would never be certain as to whether or not it was a dream or a memory.
  19. I think that LEGO should do a Zombie Infection theme. Your probably thinking that LEGO would never make a Zombie theme because it would be too violient and scare little kids. Well, the zombies don't have to be bloody or scary. They made a zombie Minifigure, so what's the difference here? They've made a theme about surviving a monster invasion before with "Dino Attack". They had guns and were shooting the dinosoars, so what's the difference with zombies? So, LEGO, it won't be too violent, and honestly, if you put 12+ on the box you can't really get sued, because no 12 year old will ###### his pants at LEGO Minifigures, and it would be a good way to attract a older audience. Sets: (What the sets should be.) Graveyard Infection: A couple of tombstones, a dead tree, a pistol, a few zombies and a human. $ 6.00 Zombie Car: Includes two human minfigures, a zombie, a two-seated car, and a pistol. $15.00 Gas Station Barricade: Includes three human Minifigures, two zombies, and a small gas station with a bench and some chairs to barricade. Has two guns and one crowbar. $35.00 Escape Plane: Includes one human pilot, a plane, two bats, and 4 zombies. $40.00 Home Barricade: Includes one small house, benches, chairs and a TV to barricade with, a function to break the door off of it's hinges, 4 humans, 5 zombies, one skeleton, 3 guns, and a getaway buggy and motorcycle. $60.00 If you have any set Ideas, please post them and I will be happy to post them up there ^ if they are not already said and reasonable! I would buy all of the Zombie Infection sets. What do you think of my idea? Discuss.
  20. Happy Halloween! So I carved a pumpkin with an Akaku design and the word "BIONICLE" on top. Unlit 1 Unlit 2 BIO Up Close Idea Sketches Template Yeah, the lettering isn't really well centered. Still, better that a classic pumpkin face, yes? Be sure to comment and tell me what you think of it! Happy Halloween!
  21. This is a preview of my new epic. It is also my entry for the SS contest. Happy Halloween! ______ Two Le-Matoran stumbled down a wooded ravine, neither sure of where they were going. The air around them was cold and the sky was unnaturally dark—the sun’s efforts to reach them were defeated by the layers of thick, leafy tree canopies above them. “I told you we shouldn’t go out,” said the tall one. “Shut up,” said the short, round one. He tripped and fell first into a small creek. The tall one burst out laughing, both amused and thankful at the chance to stop. “So,” tall one said, taking a seat on the ground, “how many Rahi have we seen?” Short one spat a number of venomous curses in his companion’s direction. “None. That doesn’t mean I was wrong.” “But it does mean I was right.” Shorty sighed. “Look, I only know what I was told. That kid back in the village said he saw some animal or something, so the Turaga told us to check it out.” “You’re missing the point,” tall said. “I said that kid didn’t see anything. We both know he didn’t. If you don’t, you’re just… well, you’re just being stupid.” He glanced over his shoulder, before continuing somewhat ominously. “And we both know it’s time for the tribute.” Shorty laughed patronizingly. “Sure sure, I know all the stories. ‘Deep into darkness, a Matoran send, for the reign of terror, quickly to end.’ Do you really believe that? Do you really want me to believe that the Turaga would send two of his own to be eaten, or killed, or whatever you say, every month?” He looked away. “You’re the stupid one.” Tall sprung up. “Yeah, you laugh! You make fun of me, but you don’t realize what’s going on here! How many of us are there on this island? A hundred? Two hundred? And still we live in fear.” His companion stood. “Now wait a minute—” But Tall would not listen. “We out number him! We need to stand up to him, and show him the true power of what Matoran can do! There’s nothing that could stop us, if we put our minds to it! But not, instead we listen to feeble minded… twits like you who are fine with being slaves! ‘Oh no, the Toa will come they’ll save us…’ You’re the fool for believing that, let me tell you. There are no Toa. There never have been and there never will. We all know the Turaga just tell those lies to calm the hopeless. We’re alone on the island, each one of us, in more ways than one. We need to forget our pointless bantering and actually… do something!” The air chilled. Silence bid its way into the forest, as the two stood motionless. Shorty grasped for something to say, his face containing a look of anger and disgust, but he soon turned away. Tall at last spoke. “Let’s get back to the village already. There are no Rahi, no Toa and no Makuta out here. We’ve wasted our day.” “Do you really doubt me?” Tall’s eyes narrowed. The voice had been higher and gentler than Shorty’s. He must have not heard correctly. “What did you say?” Shorty turned to face him. “I didn’t say anything.” “But then who…” “I did.” Tall one nearly jumped out of his armor. He spun around to see another Matoran wearing a cloak. The newcomer’s Kanohi was entirely hidden by shadows. “Who… who are you?” asked Tall, backing up. By now Shorty had noticed and had likewise turned around. He was equally stupefied. “I have many names,” began the newcomer. “Some call me Everything. Some call me Nothing. But you, my children, may call me Master.” Shorty chuckled. “That’s a good one, Master. But really, who are you and what are you doing here?” But Tall was not so oblivious. “I don’t think you should…” “Oh please, he’s obviously crazy and just looking for someone’s attention here.” Scarcely had the words left Shorty’s mouth when he rose from the ground and was flung against a tree—he screamed in pain as he fell to the ground. Tall tried to move to help his companion but found himself unable to move. The newcomer slowly walked over to the fallen Matoran, his footsteps making now sounds as he drifted across the forest floor. “Pity,” he said, a touch of irony in his voice, “that any of my children must leave me.” Shorty started to scream. He flailed his legs violently as he clutched his throat, his yells becoming more and more muted… until finally they faded all together. The newcomer paused, looking down at the now-dead Matoran, before turning to Tall. He slowly and deliberately paced around Tall, speaking as he walked. “And so,” he said, “you have seen the fate of those who challenge me. You… have realized my awesome power and woeful might. And for that, you will be rewarded.” Tall relaxed himself. He found himself once again able to speak. “Thank you… master… what I said early was just… just talk…” “Stop the apologetics, before I regret my decision. There are a thousand ways I could kill you, each one of them more painful than the last. I have made more powerful beings than you scream in utter horror—screams which would make your blood curdle and your ears cry for mercy. It is only by my benevolent grace and mercy that I do not decimate this island, and all those whom you call brother with it. No, you will not die. But rather you will serve as a reminder of my good will and you shall be a testimony to my hold over you.” In one fast motion, he threw back his hood. Tall was immersed in a bath of blood red terror. The newcomer’s eyes tore through Tall’s mind and soul, as though they searched through every moment of his life. All in one moment Tall’s greatest fears were realized around him, while he saw his greatest desires shattered. He saw his loved ones dead, as his enemies stood over their bodies. Every awful moment of his life was relived, even as the good were forgotten. It was over in a matter of seconds. Tall fell to the ground, twitching slightly. He muttered incomprehensible nonsense under his breath, his mind having been destroyed completely and utterly. The newcomer sighed. He replaced his hood, and his blood red eyes were once again hidden by the shadows of his cloak. He looked down at the now demented Matoran. “Do not forget. I am everything. I am everywhere. I am forever. I am Makuta.” And he was gone.
  22. I'm munching on candy as I type this. The Matoran who is dressed as a Bohrok is supposed to represent Brickeens, as a thank you for inspiring my Toa spin-off (the one in this MOC) of his Throwaway. Pictures:1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 Special thanks to RoaMcToa for the Matoran Design!
  23. HALLOWEEN SPECIAL MOC | Yeah, there's a lot of system, but it really is BIONICLE-based. The system is just sitting there for show.
  24. The Inevitable 0100 — Makuhero City A scream. It rent the night, tearing through the starry skies on the wings of the night wind, metallic, wailing, dying— It ceased. An unnatural silence fell over Makuhero City, an anxious silence, as though the buildings themselves were waiting for something. * * * 0108 — Mission Control, Hero Factory “We don’t know what caused the scream,” Nathaniel Zib said to the line of waiting Heroes, “but we do know where it originated.” With his pointer, he indicated a red dot on the holographic overhead map of Makuhero City behind him. The dot within was just three, maybe four blocks away. Stormer ran through his memories but could recall no information about the location. He glanced to his right — Jimi Stringer’s left eyebrow was raised — and to his left — Duncan Bulk had buried his right fist into his left palm, nodding like he was already imagining blasting enemies to rubble. The blue glow from the hologram cast odd shadows over Zib’s face; he seemed worried, if such a word could be applied to a robot. He was short, only two-thirds of Stormer’s height, but he was Hero Factory’s mission control supervisor; Heroes, even those upgraded to 2.0 like Stormer, Bulk, and Stringer, still followed his orders. Most of the time. Under the right conditions. “Be careful, Heroes,” he continued; “we don’t know what’s out there, and for it to have caused a scream like that means it could be bad news. Dismissed.” Bulk was already halfway to the lifts by the time Stringer and Stormer turned around. “I don’t like this,” remarked Stringer, ignoring Bulk’s enthusiasm. “Robots don’t scream.” Stormer rolled his eyes. “What about the time when we were training, and you—” “Shut up. You know what I mean.” Stormer didn’t, really. But it didn’t matter. The lift had come up, and Bulk was inside, finger poised over the Door Close button in a clear threat for Stormer and Stringer to hurry. They complied, jogging the last few meters and sliding to a stop against the rear wall before the doors slid shut behind them. * * * 0115 — Alpha Avenue, Makuhero City As it turned out, there was nothing for Bulk to punch. There were also no shadowy villains for Stormer and Stringer to chase, no damage for the Robotic Law Enforcement, RLE, to investigate — in short, nothing to indicate this house was a crime scene. Except for the single, lonely robot lying in the middle of the darkened apartment bedroom, limbs splayed at odd angles. His eyes were dark and blank: He had shut down. The lights of advertisements outside shone through the window, casting a hazy shadow of light over the body and partially illuminating the bed against the back wall, a little to the left of the window. Bulk flicked on the lights; the harsh, artificial yellow glow revealed a datacase three shelves high and a desk on the exact opposite side of the room from the bed. The RLE cops were elsewhere in the apartment; before the Heroes had arrived, the apartment had been sealed off, its residents calmed, and the crime scene taped off. But Makuhero city’s RLE only served as security. Hero Factory produced the Heroes. The silence seemed somehow overwhelming. Stormer took a long, quick step into the room, swinging his blaster around in reflex — the RLE would have cleared the room already, of course, but there was no sense in interrupting routine. “Creepy, huh?” Stringer had stepped up beside Stormer as the latter kneeled by the cold, metallic body. Not the tiniest whirr emanated from its innards. “Like nothing happened.” It was odd, seeing a deactivated robot up close. Stormer was a veteran Hero, but all the same he hadn’t had to deal with... with the dead before. “Creepy, indeed,” he remarked, lifting up the robot’s head to look behind it. “No visible damage; there isn’t a single scratch to suggest he was attacked.” “That doesn’t mean he wasn’t,” Bulk pointed out. “No,” Stormer agreed, setting down the head and flipping over the body. “It doesn’t.” But deep in his mind, Stormer couldn’t help but feel something was wrong with that idea. No damage at all? — not even collateral in nature? Abruptly, the white-armored Hero stood. “C’mon — we need to get this body back to HF for a full autopsy.” He turned on his helmet radio. “Zib — all clear, but one’s dead. Cause: unknown. Transportation needed.” “Copy, Stormer. A hover-stretcher is on its way. You’re dismissed.” * * * 0800 — Training Pod, Hero Factory Furno’s eyes glowed with confusion as he sidestepped a pair of virtual lasers, harsh against the dark backdrop of night. Using only his peripheral vision, he coolly blasted the simulated drones into oblivion. Show-off. “I don’t get it. How can you destroy a robot without damage?” Furno sent off another two blasts before ducking behind a boulder. He and Stormer were in a rocky valley modeled after the numerous ones crisscrossing Krion 8’s surface — it was night because Stormer felt they both needed more in-darkness training, though Furno had argued that point. Perhaps his fireball launcher had something to do with it. Stormer shook his head in a curt reply, breaking from cover. Furno was part of Alpha 1, true, but that didn’t mean his lessons were over. “Think it though, Furno,” he called over the sound of more blasts: Repeating guns had arrived. He slid behind Furno’s cover, right foot first, firing blindly toward the enemies; a satisfactory boom met his audio receptors, and the rapid firing abruptly ceased as if the gun had been plugged shut. “Remember the nanobots?” If any point of Stormer’s career was a low, it was when Meltdown infected his systems with nanobots and nearly succeeded in turning him against his team. It hadn’t depressed him, but it had brought him back to earth; he had suddenly found the robotic side of him irreplaceable, impossible to put out of mind. “We’re robots, Furno,” explained Stormer with the patience only a veteran Hero could have. Furno shrugged. “So?” “So...?” “So, does that make a difference? I mean, organic creatures must have experienced similar difficulties.” He caught Stormer’s pointed glance; he still remembered the veteran Hero’s dislike of speculation, for sure. “Er, I mean, if organic creatures existed, of course. Fossil evidence hasn’t yet proven—” Ratta-tatta-tatta— Stormer stood up, sighted along his blaster, and pulled the trigger in just two seconds before dropping behind the boulder. —tatta-tatta — BOOM. Another target struck. Stormer was on a roll today. “Time,” said a sudden robotic voice in Stormer’s mind, and the sheer rock walls on either side of the Heroes, the dirt underfoot, and the remaining enemies faded away like a dream; in their place was a circular room, both its walls and lights pale white. He blinked. He’d forgotten he had timed the simulation. “So the autopsy’s done?” “Probably,” replied Stormer. “Most likely.” He paused, then corrected himself: “Hopefully.” * * * 0805 — Autopsy Room, Hero Factory Hopefully, apparently, was not a strong enough wish. “No, Stormer,” said ZD840, the lead autopsy specialist. His metal plating was a shiny white, like he had just come off the assembly line yesterday; his four arms waved about as he spoke. “We’re still crosschecking the robot’s innards against available blueprints. At the moment, I highly doubt we’ll find any damage.” Behind him, a large window, three meters long by two meters high, afforded a glimpse into the autopsy room. It was even whiter and more brightly lit than the race of Hero Factory; in its center lay a long medical table, and atop that table lay the dead robot. Its torso paneling had been opened all the way, and another ZD model was using its four arms to examine and scan various machinery while the other two stood by; their eyes were locked on the wall, but Stormer knew they were actually looking at their HUDs. “Not even a cog or screw out-of-place?” Furno asked, incredulous. Zed looked cross. “I said,” he began, his tone that of a teacher annoyed with an ignorant student, “we’re still crosschecking the robot’s—” Furno’s eyes lit up at the demeaning tone, and Stormer was quick to step in. “Er, Zed. Cut Furno a break — he’s still new.” Before Furno could interject Stormer placed a hand on his chest and added, “How long will it take?” “Understand I can only give a vague approximation,” said Zed, “but I would guess at least another five hours, to allow time for double-checking the parts and testing various mechanisms.” The white gleams upon his armor suddenly seemed harsh. * * * 1155 — Makuhero City The white buildings glowed under the sunlight. Their design had been purposeful: Light was linked to positive ideas in the subconscious mind, and so a bright city ought to also generate positive thoughts. What the designers failed to take into account was that such a peaceful city could be shattered so easily by a single scream. And shattered it was. The broken shards of silence fell; heads looked up from the roads, out from windows, everywhere across Makuhero City. The scream continued, never changing pitch even for a second, until just as abruptly as it had begun, it cut off. On the surface, it was a sign of violence and terror. But beneath that was something more: a message. It was a harbinger, but for what, no one could know. * * * 1210 — Delta Drive, Makuhero City “Bulk and Stringer are on their way. I’ve just finished briefing them.” Zib’s voice was somewhat fuzzy over the radio. Stormer had always found that funny; how could transmissions have the same audio quality whether he was in Makuhero City or Mekron City, a good few light-years away. “Continue your investigations as normal. Zib out.” The comm clicked off, and Stormer closed his eyes in the robotic equivalent of a sigh. Thus far, the attacks, or deaths, or whatever didn’t make sense. How could a robot die without a single trace of damage? “So we go in?” asked Furno, stepping forward. Stormer nodded grimly. “That, and hope we get more evidence this time.” Down the street, a Robotic Law Enforcement hover-car sat in the middle of the road, its lights flashing a warning. RLE personnel surrounded the entry to the fourth building on the left; they had already stretched police tape across the doorway. Spotting Stormer and Furno, they stepped away, clearing a path for the two Heroes. They ducked under the yellow tape and into an unlit entry hall. They took the lift to the third floor — RLE personnel had already discovered the dead robot — so all that was left was for the Heroes to take control and perhaps take the body back to their headquarters. It was a well-known fact that Hero Factory had the best robotic engineers in the city, probably in the entire galaxy. “Here,” said Furno suddenly, pointing to the only room with its door open. All the others were locked — the robots who lived here, Stormer had been told, had been evacuated from the premises. What did they think was happening? The Heroes glanced at each other and entered. Though the lights were off, the window — the completely intact window, Stormer noted with a frown — was uncovered, letting sunlight stream into the room. It also fully illuminated the prone metal body sprawled across the floor. Stormer knelt by the body while Furno glanced at the window, feeling along the frame for any signs of damage, anything to show that the Heroes had something to fight. But from the look on the younger, red-armored Hero’s face, there was nothing. Carefully, Stormer lifted the shut down robot’s head and checked the back paneling. No evidence of tampering, he noted, and rolled the robot over. Still, there was nothing evident. For a moment he wanted to examine the robot himself, but fought against the urge; if he did, the ZD-series autopsy robots would have his head. And if he cursed — this was a harder urge to resist — Furno wouldn’t take it well. Neither would Zib, when he found out. Instead, he dutifully reported to Zib, “All clear... but another’s dead. Cause: still unknown. Transportation needed.” He waited for the other’s reaction. It didn’t come. Presumably Zib was having a hover-stretcher repaired; that, or he had turned off his radio so Stormer wouldn’t hear his curses. Against his better instincts, Stormer muttered a few of his own. * * * 1350 — Autopsy Room, Hero Factory Stormer had checked, double-checked, even triple-checked the diagnosis. And yet, he found himself utterly incapable of comprehending how nothing — absolutely nothing, according to ZD840’s report — could kill a robot. “There — there must be some mistake!” Furno, displaying typical rookie naivety. Of course there wasn’t a mistake, Stormer noted sourly; the ZDs had also checked, double-checked, and triple-checked their work. They were perfect. They were robots, too. Nevertheless, Zed shook his head in an obligatory reply / explanation. His contemporaries continued to mill around the examination room, closing and sealing the robot’s panels and beginning to move in the next body. “No. We checked—” “—and double-checked, and triple-checked,” Stormer finished dully. “I know the routine.” Again Zed shook his head. “There was no need to triple-check,” he said; “the robot is in mint-perfect condition... except, of course, for the fact that it’s shut down and won’t reactivate.” “I read the report.” “I know you did. I wasn’t sure if you understood it.” It was a logical question in theory. In practice, it was just plain provoking. But Stormer was used to jabs. Not all the citizens of Makuhero City liked Heroes. Some thought, especially after the nanobot debacle during which an LCD billboard featuring Stormer was destroyed, that Heroes were too dangerous to keep around. At least, he thought, we do help them. “So the time estimation...?” “Eight hours,” replied Zed. “At least, mind you.” Stormer minded, all right. * * * 1500 — Mission Control, Hero Factory “But we need results!” was Zib’s reply to Stormer’s news: the second autopsy would be done by evening at the earliest. “What if other people are hurt?” Quaddle beeped his agreement, then turned back to a computer screen, his four tendril-arms typing out a report to Hero Factory’s founder, Akiyama Makuro. Bulk and Stringer had once held a bet on how fast Quaddle could actually type. Stringer had guessed eighty words per minute; Bulk, one hundred. As it turned out, Bulk’s guess was at least fifty words per minute too low. Furno nodded vigorously. “Exactly! That’s what I—” “Furno: quiet.” Stormer’s cold gaze kept Furno’s tirade at bay. Turning back to Zib, who was standing by the central holographic display, the Hero said, “They need time. That’s all.” “Time is something we may not have,” Zib pointed out. “All right.” Stormer closed his eyes again. “Think of it this way, Zib: Do you want to do a job quickly, or do you want to do it well?” “Preferably both—” “Zib!” Stormer cut off the robot. Zib’s eyes shut for a moment in exasperation, then opened as he said, “Well. Stormer, I see what you’re saying, but as I’ve already stated, time is of the essence. We’ve been programmed to do a job, Stormer; that job is to protect Makuhero City. And right now, we’re—” “Stop!” The sudden yell shut Zib up quicker than Furno would have; and, indeed, the younger Hero was glancing at his former teacher with a newfound hint of respect. But he didn’t realize why Stormer had snapped. It was so obvious in hindsight. The dead beings were robotic: Their brains were filled with lines of programming code, and that code determined each robot’s unique behavior. Since there was nothing wrong with the robots’ bodies, that left only one option. The programming had gone wrong. If Stormer were organic — if, because he wasn’t at all sure they had ever existed — he would have broken out in a cold sweat. As he was, he could still feel his body heat rising from the accelerated electrical impulses that were his thoughts, and the whir of machinery within his body filled his audio receptors. This was a robot’s equivalent of anxiety. Slowly but deliberately, Stormer keyed his wrist comm for ZD840. The two seconds it took for the autopsy specialist to answer seemed the longest time Stormer had ever waited. “Stormer? I told you, the autopsy—” “Forget that! — get the first robot and examine his programming!” barked Stormer. Zed was silent for a moment. Perhaps he was surprised by the sheer level of command in Stormer’s tone. But then, that same command had sent many a Hero into death-defying action; and Zed surely knew that, too. Finally he spoke. “We have the robot and we’re currently working past the encryption codes. I’ll contact you when we’ve uploaded the data in its entirety onto our computer.” “Thank you,” said Stormer, and turned off the comm. Furno and Zib had broken from their momentary trance; both looked grim. As grim as Stormer’s face probably looked. They stood like that, silent, for several minutes. Only Quaddle’s constant typing could be heard now; even he was silent. Finally, Stormer’s comm clicked on. “This is Zed,” came a welcome voice. “We have the data and we’re running through it now. We’ve never done this before, you know, but it isn’t too hard. I’d like you Heroes to come up if you can.” “I’ll summon the rest of the team,” replied Stormer. “Stormer out.” “Zed out.” * * * 1520 — Autopsy Room, Hero Factory Stormer, Furno, Bulk, and Stringer had stood just outside the window to the autopsy room for ten minutes before ZD840 moved. “We’ve found something,” he said. “Let me transfer the display to your HUDs.” A second passed before a flash half-blinded Stormer. Blinking hard in the sudden light, he couldn’t make sense of the symbols and technical terms that had appeared on his HUD, scrambled together like rocks in a blast zone. A glance at Bulk and Stringer’s faces showed they were feeling the same way. Furno, on the other hand, was oddly subdued. Abruptly, a line of coding was highlighted in bright red. “The line you see highlighted,” said Zed, “is the problem. In layman’s terms: This portion of the program is intended as a failsafe in case errors occur. If too many occur, the robot shuts down.” “But then... what was the error?” Furno’s eyebrows were raised, not in shock or confusion, but realization. Silence. Then, Zed shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve sent a message to Hero Factory’s program specialists, but thus far they can’t make anything of it.” And that same sense of being a robot struck Stormer again. There was some thought floating before him, just out of his reach, like it was taunting him from behind a glass windowpane. But Stormer’s mind had broken through the window — grabbed that stray thought— “Emotion.” Zed cocked his head. “Excuse me?” Stringer followed suit, frowning. “What’re you talking about—?” “Emotion,” Stormer repeated, not angrily, not impatiently, just... repeated. “We’re robots. We rely on programming. Why do we have emotions? And if we were programmed to have them... well, couldn’t emotional conflicts cause fatal errors to occur?” Now Furno was shocked. He fell back against the window, rattling it and prompting the ZD robots behind it to spin around. “But... but then...” And then it was Bulk’s turn to speak. Rather, he swore. “But that means—” “—if we all have this programming,” Stormer finished, “then...” And he swore. “Zed. Get me in there.” Zed suddenly looked uncomfortable. The white gleams on his metal plating seemed harsh again. So did his glowing eyes. “But Stormer, we haven’t done this on an activated robot before—” “Do it.” Furno’s eyes were closed. Bulk and Stringer wached the byplay silently, eyes wide. The bright white lights above Stormer’s head, the floor beneath his feet — all seemed to have gone, fled away to some distant land to escape the suspense. He was floating with his companions, staring down Zed, unable to even feel apprehension. But then, perhaps that was a good thing. Finally, Zed nodded, too stiff to speak. “Fine.” Like a dreamer, Stormer slipped through the doorway into the room after Zed. He heard Furno’s worried, “It’ll be okay, Stormer!” but ignored it. Now wasn’t the time for comfort. The table beckoned. Stormer slid onto it, rolling over so he stared at the ceiling. ZD840’s face slid into view above him. “We’re plugging you into the computer now.” Two jolts, more felt than heard. “Done. Now wait — the encryptions might be more difficult within an active robot’s brain.” Stormer managed to grin. “If it’s that hard to break into my mind, Meltdown was smarter than he looked. And I seriously doubt that.” Then Zed was gone. Stormer laid there for only ten minutes, but those minutes were the longest he had ever endured. Surely even with a billion calculations going on within his head even now, the ZDs could pick out the backbone programming. Hero Factory’s walls and ceilings were too white, he decided. “Stormer.” Two jolts. “You can sit up.” He did so. Zed was silent, stubbornly avoiding Stormer’s gaze. “Zed...” “You have it. And...” “And what?” “We missed it before. There was an error counter in your programming, and...” Zed’s eyes locked onto Stormer’s now. “It won’t be long now.” As if from a distance, he heard Furno and Bulk’s anguished yells. Stringer was silent, though, like Zed. The whole situation had pushed Stormer to the breaking point, and now he was going to pay for it. Stormer’s brain might have shut down then and he wouldn’t have noticed.* * * * *This is my first Hero Factory fan-fiction story, and most likely my last. I don't know if I did the premise justice -- the story was rather rushed, especially near the end -- but nevertheless I hope you all enjoy it.Constructive criticism would be appreciated.
  25. For some reason, I really just don't enjoy Halloween anymore. Is something wrong with me?
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