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It’s all finished, Vakama thought, looking out from his window at the glory that was New Atero.The Matoran had not had peace for this long since the days when they still lived cluelessly and peacefully inside the body of the Great Spirit Mata Nui--perhaps in their entire history. It took a while to get the Original Thousand* from Mata Nui used to living among other species, but after a few years they warmed up to it; there were no real conflicts aside from a few street fights; there was a stable government that he was glad not to be a part of. He had announced his decision not to be part of the Council with none of the backlash he expected, as three of the other Turaga felt the exact same way as he did; the remaining two, Nokama and Onewa, were now sitting high and comfortable in the Coliseum above New Atero, discussing the acquisition of land with a bunch of disgruntled Srakan and Glatorian diplomats. Vakama’s mind turned to the other Turaga. He hadn’t seen Nuju in ages; Whenua and Matau were retired, as he was, and living in other cities. He had heard rumors that some of the others were still meeting. He didn’t really care; though he was once the leader, he was now the excluded one, and the others had used this peacetime to vent some of their personal problems upon him. The Three Virtues were considered by all--including, increasingly, Vakama himself--an old myth. Nobody really needed to unite for any reason; there wasn’t any Great Spirit to take care of anymore; and there hadn’t been any Toa for three thousand years, so most people assumed Destiny in its ultimate form had been achieved. “Not an unfair assumption,” Vakama said to himself, shrugging as he thought of his last argument with Nokama.A knock came on the door. Vakama was surprised. He picked up his staff and hobbled to the door. It was a Toa; Vakama recognized him as Kooms, the leader of the local Toa team.Why would a Toa want business with me? Vakama wondered. He could only think of two reasons: that he was under arrest or that he was being summoned to the Coliseum. He wasn’t sure which one sounded worse.“Walk with me,” Kooms said. “Don’t worry, you’re not under arrest.”Coliseum then, Vakama thought to himself. He began to brace himself for the inevitable shots the other Turaga would take at him. Thankfully, Kooms led him away from the Coliseum, down the street towards the chute station.“There’s going to be another Time Slip,” Kooms stated casually, not even looking at Vakama. “A Time Slip?” Vakama inquired.“Do you remember on Metru Nui when everyone woke up and couldn’t remember a thing?”“Sounds like the morning after every Naming Day.""No, this is serious. Six months of history disappeared. You certain you don't remember it?""No.""Well, it happened, and it's about to happen again."“How do you know?”“Mask of Balance. Whenever something’s off in space or time, I’m the first to know about it. I felt it about three days ago.”“Why are you telling me, then? And where are you taking me?”“We’re going to the Bronze District. I’ll explain everything once we get there.”The two arrived at the chute station and hopped on the express chute south towards the Bronze District. Vakama had not been to the Bronze District in at least several years that he could remember; it was one of New Atero’s poorest neighborhoods, set on the periphery of the city, and was mostly home to Skakdi and Telkerrians who had settled in New Atero after the Great Exodus out of the Matoran Universe. To his memory, Vakama had never seen a Skakdi until his first time in that particular district; he had heard that they were violent and unreasonable, and to be safe, he never interacted with them.They disembarked from the chute. The Bronze District wasn’t half as bad as Vakama remembered. Rather than small iron shacks, there were rows of brightly-painted houses; there were a few Skakdi on the street but mostly Le-Matoran and Ga-Matoran. The Skakdi moved in tight-knit groups; the Matoran were aloof and did not seem to interact much with each other. Vakama could hear music; there appeared to be some sort of small street fair a few blocks ahead.“Is that where we’re going?” Vakama inquired.“Actually it’s this left.”Kooms led Vakama into a small, deserted alley between two of the painted houses. It was empty except for a few trash cans; a small catlike Rahi darted out from behind one and climbed a fence into someone’s yard.“This is our spot.”Kooms gestured to an inconspicuous pink-and-white house. He knocked on the door, very loudly. As soon as the door creaked open in response, Vakama was greeted by a blast of loud music and the smell of burning erriax flowers; he registered the Matoran at the door a few seconds afterwards. It was Hafu.“Hey, Vakama,” Hafu muttered; he carried a piece of paper in his hand, which he idly scanned. Turning to Kooms, he inquired, “Are you here for the meeting?”“Yes.”“You guys just made it in time. Come in.”Hafu’s house was filled with long, elaborate strands of Kiratan thread; countless small sculptures lay around, some mounted on furniture and windowsills, others haphazardly placed on tables. A rope hung curiously from the ceiling and lay coiled across the floor. The smell of incense and erriax flowers was overpowering. It was the house of an artist, albeit either a very lazy one or one so devoted to his craft that everything else was neglected. Another Matoran was sprawled on one of the couches, seemingly asleep, but there didn’t seem to be anyone else there.“I’d like to see the new machine you’ve been telling me about,” Kooms said to Hafu.“Well I’m about to show you,” the sculptor said with a half-smile. He walked over to one of the sculptures, a huge Mata Nui head, and rotated it; at first Vakama thought he was adjusting its position, but there was a click, and a massive trapdoor fell open beneath the rope. The rest of the rope unraveled and dangled down.“A Hafu original,” Hafu said.“You’ll have to explain to me how that works at some point,” Kooms said.“It’s simple. The statue’s attached to a lever, when I turned it the support beam fell. Are we ready to head down?” Hafu suddenly exclaimed to the room.“If we’re all here,” Kooms answered.Upon peering into the pit, Vakama was surprised at its shallowness; it was only about six feet deep, enough for a Matoran to stand in but not most other entities. Another small door was set into the wall. The Toa climbed down effortlessly, while Hafu and Vakama had to rely on the rope. Hafu came down first and took Vakama’s staff as the Turaga slid down, burning his hands from the friction. Vakama and Kooms were equally shocked to see what lay behind the door. Behind it was a small flight of steps that descended to the floor of a vast space, at least the size of the main square of Ta-Koro back on Metru Nui, though with a ceiling not much higher than that of Hafu’s house. It looked to be an old reservoir or storage room, most likely of Agori origin; clusters lightstones set into the floor every twenty feet or so illuminated the place with a harsh glow undercut by spaces of darkness. “What is this place?” Kooms asked.“It’s an old Agori reservoir. Must have dried up millenia ago. I put in lightstones and built the trapdoor. Nobody except me and my friends know about it. And now you do.”They walked through the vast space; there was still a slight smell of erriax flowers. As they moved deeper, Vakama became aware of the voices of people, then of a large group of at least twenty; most of them appeared to be Toa, but there were also several Matoran. The shapes became clearer. Takanuva was there, along with Jaller, Hahli, Kongu, Hewkii, Nuparu, Tahu, Gali, and Kopaka; Vakama wondered for a second why the others were not there before he remembered that Pohatu and Lewa had been on a mission for several months and that Onua was now a Turaga serving on the council of a distant city. Vakama recognized all the Matoran, for they were part of the Original Thousand who had come with the Toa Metru from the Old City to the island of Mata Nui. Kapura, the master of traveling great distances by walking very slowly, was there; so were Macku, Taipu, Midak, Tamaru, the hermit Kantai, and the Chronicler Kopeke. There were also three Toa Vakama did not recognize: a tall Toa of Air, an even taller Toa of Water, and what Vakama was pretty certain was a Toa of Sonics. Vakama was dismayed to see Whenua, Matau, and Nuju, but thankfully Nokama and Onewa were not present. Kooms addressed the crowd.“By being here you are sworn to secrecy. It doesn’t matter, because you will soon forget everything you learned here. When, I cannot say. If you reveal anything you have learned here to anyone else, you are endangering Matoran society and may potentially cause rioting and widespread panic.“Most of what I have already told you about the Time Slip is a lie. The Time Slip is an initiative by the group I represent, the Order of Mata Nui; it is being engineered specifically to erase the period between the first Great Cataclysm and the second, the one that occurred so recently when the body of Mata Nui crashed here and we left it to inhabit this new world we call Spherus Magna. This is so that the nature of the Great Spirit is kept secret from the world. The history of the Matoran Universe during that time is safe with us; however, none of you were in the Matoran Universe at the time. You were living on what you called the island of Mata Nui. Thus, your memories of this time will be lost if they are not preserved.“We have gathered every single scrap ever written about the island of Mata Nui in this room, accounts from the two Chroniclers Takua and Hahli. They stand before you as Toa, soon to have no memory of how they became such. But we need more. This is why we have called each of you here to provide as many of your memories of living on that island as possible. Unless you choose to leave, in which case you will forget every memory you ever had of Mata Nui with no hope of retrieving them, each of you will be given one day to recount as much as you choose. Tell stories; do not merely rattle off facts. We must know through your experiences, not the trivia you have acquired. These records will be kept by the Order, and if you come to us and ask, you may view them. I willl make sure you do not forget that piece of information. However, your memories will still be erased. You will not be spared by the Time Slip. This is only for safety. You will be as clueless as the rest of us. “And I would like to apologize deeply, to every single one of you, and assure you that this will never happen again. Not if we make sure it never needs to. Thank you.”The members of the crowd had been silently staring at each other in shock for a while, and they immediately burst into uproar upon receiving this news. Vakama had stood there silently, soaking up Kooms’ words; he had suspected this even before the Toa had begun speaking. As soon as he had seen the Toa of Sonics, and remembered where he had seen that face before so many years ago, he had realized the full truth.Review topic (and information on footnotes): http://www.bzpower.c...?showtopic=7436
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Not my best work. The coloring isn't very good due to the fact that I don't own any good coloring programs, so you get the point. There's also an image of Takua without that horribly-colored platform here: http://www.brickshel...k/takuanobg.pngEDIT: The topic name is an error. I don't know how to rename topic if you even can, so can a moderator or something fix that? It's supposed to be Takua and Vakama.I think Vakama turned out better overall. I was too lazy to make a floor for him to stand on and it's still a bit choppy due to the fact that i had to use crayons and colored pencils to color him in. Still, better result, I think.
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Okay, here's my Flash Fire entries:I started off with Takua, which is my first finished drawing in a long time. I'm thinking about calling it Decisions, because it is set at the time Jaller just died, and Takua is considering putting on the Mask of Light and fulfilling his destiny, while also giving up his carefree life of a Matoran and most of his adventures. So, I present: Decisions: Takua Flash Fire Entry Completely hand drawn, and it probably took about 2-3 hours. I'm not sure because I finished it, and then kept coming back and adding some minor shading detail or filling in a new color. Anyways, I hope you like it, and it's worthy of your approval! (I just saw that Uncle K just entered his Jaller, so it's going to be a tough competition!)Next off, Vakama! I gave him a contemplating pose as he stands over a fire, thinking about the past. His design is based on the set with elements of MoL and my style. I also thought his legs needed a bit of detail, so I gave him a bit of a reminder of his Toa Metru days. I really tried to make his pose look humanlike, so comments on that would be nice. Memories: Vakama Flash Fire Contest Entry It took about 1-2 hours this time, as I didn't make it as clean as Takua and had to do some clean-up in Photoshop afterwards anyways. The pose took the longest time, because for some reason, the legs wouldn't turn out right. I just settled with a stiff pose that actually turned out nice. I've also been working hard on my glow effects, so I added in two light sources and tried lighting him up from there. How's it look?Okay, and now to finish off the contest, my entry of Tahu, which I unfortunately finished about an hour after the contest ended, and was just able to scan it now.Tahu glances around, wary through the smooth cave. He didn't know rocks like Pohatu, but he could tell that this is not a natural cave. It seems small, clawed hands carved its smooth face.As he rounds another corner, he finds the answer he was looking for, but wishing he wouldn't find. The Bohrok Nest, a massive round complex filled with the cylindrical sleeping chambers of the Swarms. Just as he notices this, a quick blow knocks off his mask, and he reels backwards into a wall, looking for the opponent that dared to attack to Toa of Fire.A soft, wet mass follows the blow, and attaches itself to his face. Its soothing voice gently directs him to see his foe, a now empty Tahnok, and Tahu realized what's on his face. He feels something he thought he never would... Fear A Tahu Flash Fire Entry I took a little more interesting approach to this one, but with the same style I've been using. I wanted a memorable moment in Tahu's history, like I've done for the rest, but at the time he was a Mata. After looking through the comics, I found one pose that looked cool, and I've been wanting to try for a while, the moment he's captured by the Tahnok temporarily. I've been wanting to try out my Krana interpretation for a while, but I forgot to add the little tentacles that reach off the sides into the face. Ah well.So it took about two hours, and it was going to be a last minute entry, except I forgot the time zone change. So, I missed the contest, but I still thought I'd post it for your opinions, so post away!
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I told myself I was done with fan art a while ago but then I guess I lied and drew Vakama.
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Alright, so I managed to get something done before the contest deadline tonight; I don't think I've ever entered a contest before the last day. Anyway, here's my entry in the Turaga Vakama category: I always intended to enter this contest, but I've been so busy lately that I didn't get a chance to start until Thursday. I originally intended to draw Tahu, but in the end I figured it was probably easier to do one of the other two, and Turaga Vakama's always been one of my favorite characters anyway...This started off in pencil and ink, then went through a rigorous Photoshoping. I'm especially pleased with how his mask came out. I've never understood why there was so little resemblance between the Great and Noble Hunas, so I added a few details from the Great Huna to bridge that gap.Hope y'all like it. ~ Rumpelstiltskin
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This topic will hold my entries to the Flash Fire art contest. I've posted a few MoC topics on BZP, but never any art before now. Now that there's an interesting contest I'm finally posting some art. Turaga Vakama (click for full picture) I thought a pixel art Vakama would be an interesting and different entry to the contest. Hopefully it doesn't break any rules. I don't see it winning, but I think it looks nice and I enjoyed making it. Matoran Takua This is probably my best piece of Bionicle artwork. I'm pretty happy with all of it except for his left arm, it looks a little weird. My favorite part is the mask. Toa Tahu Because I wanted to use a different style for each of my entries, I first colored this with colored pencils and then just messed around with it in GIMP. It actually turned out much better than I expected.
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i have a theory on vakamas mask power.the way it worked always bugged me, as if something's invisible it doesn't have a shadow.so i don't think the mask grants invisibility. at least not in the conventional sense.see, i think it grants a sort of active camo. or at least that's what my highly logical brain wants to think.allowing him to still create a shadow. (in theory) and be "invisible".well what do you think?does that even make sense?backup reasons:if he was actually invisible, light would pass cleanly through him. dictating that he cannot have a shadow.if its active camo-like it would make him a sort of HD screen. and the light would be blocked. in theory.i also checked for dupes.
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(Constructive criticism greatly appreciated)Entry One: My name is Vakama- I’m a Ta-Matoran mask-maker. Recently, Turaga Dume himself has tasked me with making a mask like no other-the Vahi, Mask of Time. Here I shall record my progress and methods that proved useful for completion. Failed trials will also be marked.FAILEDFAILEDFAILEDEntry Two: Used Ga-Metru teleport disk: power level 7 Used Ko-Metru regenerate disk: power level 8 Used Ta-Metru teleport disk: power level 6Notes: Not enough power, and the sequence is offFAILEDFAILEDFAILEDFAILEDFAILEDEntry Three: Used Ta-Metru enlarge disk: power level 8 Used Ga-Metru regenerate disk: power level 7 Used Po-Metru weaken disk: power level 8 Used Ko-Metru freeze disk: power level 7 Used Le-Metru teleport disk: power level 8 Used Onu-Metru reconstitute disk: power level 8Notes: The types are right, it seems-but they are too weak. Turaga Dume is getting impatient- I must keep working!FAILEDFAILEDFAILEDNotes: Today I heard a strange voice-but when I looked around, there was nobody there. I need to take it easy for a bit-the stress is getting to me.FAILEDEntry Four: I heard the voice again today-it is becoming clearer. If only I knew what it meant…FAILEDFAILEDFAILEDEntry Five: Today the city was attacked-yet Toa Lhikan could not save us all. I had always believed in the Toa-yet now I see them as the weaklings they are. No matter-the voice tells me that Lhikan will be of some use still…FAILEDEntry Six: I have learned that the only way to create the Vahi is through forging together the Great Disks. It shall be easy to convince that weak-minded Toa to retrieve them for me.Entry Seven: Lhikan has finally gathered the disks! Now I can start my masterwork…Note: The voice is getting fainter…Entry Eight: I have worked tirelessly on this mask… yet the voice seems to be dying…Entry Nine: Today I finished the Vahi. As I was about to put it on, the golden mask glowed-and rusted to a bright orange. Furious, I threw the mask on the floor, only to find a Toa-like figure watching me with piercing green eyes. The maskless Toa’s golden armor shimmered and slowly rusted as it placed the Vahi upon its face. Then, he spoke. “I have seen into your being, Vakama, and what you seek shall be forged through the hearts of many and through the sacrifice of oneself. Take care that your path does not stray.” As I stood there gaping, the figure collapsed upon itself, leaving behind a single disk etched with a carving of the most beautiful mask I had ever seen.Entry Ten: After pondering it for a while, I now know what I must do. I shall create the Mask of Being whatever the cost…Entry Eleven: I obtained my first heartstone today. All it took was some patience and a long knife. As I ground it up and placed it on the mask I shaped from the disk, it was absorbed. The mask is becoming stronger, but it needs more power…CONFIRMED KILLCONFIRMED KILLESCAPEESCAPEE KILLEDCONFIRMED KILLCONFIRMED KILLCONFIRMED KILLEntry Twelve: One of my victims escaped and notified the Turaga… but I got him in the end. Now all the mask needs is a sacrifice from myself. I shall remove my foot-I can always replace that.Entry Thirteen: THEY’RE COMING! I have to escape-I can’t let them get this mask-I can't... Note from Toa Lhikan:At the urging of the stars, I sought out Vakama, only to find him huddled in the deepest part of the archives with this book. It seems to be the ravings of a lunatic-and I have my doubts about giving Vakama a Toa Stone in light of this disturbing revelation. I can confirm that I retrieved the Great Disks for Vakama, and that many Matoran have been found with mangled chests… but I cannot believe Vakama would do such things. I must watch this one…
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Masses of forgotten, derelict masks piled high into the sky of Ta-Metru, into a sky still laden with the barest wisps of smoke. Seeing the city dead was a hard fact to face, even after facing it was something that was, had been, and still would continue to be necessary. But there was no time to feel the emotions of loss and sadness for their former native land – not now. The only mourning that would come would come later, while building anew on a new land.On any other day of his life, Vakama would have contemplated all of this. On any other day, he would have been overwhelmed and devastated over the sheer magnitude of their Armageddon – but not today.Today, he was running for his life.He swerved, darting between mask piles and pushing them over where he could. He melted a few into molten slag, in a fruitless attempt to slow down his pursuer.Fence. Dead end.In his path lay a halted conveyor belt of powerless masks, then an unscalable fence beyond. Sure, there was something that he could possibly do, something that he might be able to accomplish with the powers that he had. But what could a mere Toa – without even the ounce of help a Toa tool would bring – do against the might of Makuta?An alleyway.Without much thought, Vakama darted into the dark alley, peering out to see where Makuta was. He was not disappointed, for the Master of Shadows emerged from underground, looking confidently about the Protodermis Reclamation Yard. He was visibly weakened; antidermis leaked from his thick armor – though he was not weakened enough to be defeated.“Show yourself, Toa! Give me the Mask, and I’ll let you on your way. I’m sure your fellow so-called ‘heroes’ are missing you.”Vakama was enraged. Here was the being who imprisoned the population of a great city and hijacked an entire universe for his own amusement. No life in the universe was left unchanged by his despicable deeds.Yet he still found the innate willpower in the deepest sanctum of his core to repress his words, words that were bubbling within him, so anxious to be released.“Why do you even bother? It’s not like you’ll gain anything here, in this ruin. No one’s going to mourn you – in fact, no one’s even going to care! You’re not going to die a hero, Vakama, like your hero Lhikan. You’re just a pathetic excuse for a Matoran playing a role never meant for you in the first place. Why do you insist on this useless charade?”Now was the time to move. Vakama strode boldly out into the yard, one arm behind him. “You’re a monster. I fight monsters.”Makuta sauntered in, smirking evilly. “I’m not a monster, Vakama. I gave my brother a much-needed nap, after all. I ran the city, and saved it from Nidhiki and Krekka.” He began to lazily circle Vakama, acting as nonchalant as possible. Vakama still had control of the Vahi, and as long as he did, he would take no chances.“Sure,” Vakama spat back. “You brought those two here only to absorb them. You murdered Lhikan. You put everyone who lived here to sleep. Calling you a monster might very well be the best compliment I can muster.”Makuta repressed a startled gasp. He noticed the Mask of Time trying to hide amongst the powerless masks upon the conveyor belt. What, then, was Vakama hiding behind his back? Did he really believe that such a puerile ruse could fool him? “You amuse me, Vakama, but your words are meaningless, like the power you hold. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take that mask.”“Not yet.” Vakama whirled his hand around, crushing a useless noble Ruru to smithereens with a maskmaker’s hammer. Makuta eyed him, startled enough to stop in his tracks. “How much do you really know about the Vahi?” He obliterated a Kaukau with a brisk and powerful stroke. “I found out that it even works when damaged, unlike normal masks. It was just laying there, on the ocean floor, the barest of cracks visible. The power of Time leaked out, though, and everything was affected. Fascinating.”He smashed yet another mask, not ever moving his gaze from Makuta.Makuta regained some confidence. “No maskmaker would dare destroy their greatest creation.”“It might be hard to live with, Makuta,” Vakama conceded. “But if I destroy the Vahi, neither of us would even be alive.”Makuta took one step. Vakama flinched, though nearly imperceptibly. “Care to explain?”The Toa of Fire adopted an air of condescension. “It’s all very basic,” he began. “Time is contained within the mask. Should the Vahi ever be broken, all of that power will be released, and then the very laws holding Time in check are let loose like a Kane-Ra in a Kanoka shop. Anything and everything will exist, all at once. Everything will be discord and chaos.”“That sounds … wonderful.”“Oh, really, now?” Another mask flew off the conveyor belt in a mass of shards. “Your body could age and regress simultaneously, trapped in every time and in none at all. Your beloved schemes and plans would come to a grinding halt.”Now his hammer was over the Vahi itself, poised to crush it like so much useless junk.Makuta did not have to be trapped in a state of eternal agonizing temporal limbo to be torn over the complexities of this situation. Vakama could just as easily be lying as telling the truth. There was no way to know …“Believe me, Makuta,” Vakama uttered gravely, as if he knew Makuta’s very cogitations. “If the only way to save those I have sworn to protect is to destroy everything, I will do it.”Makuta stared deeply into the eyes of the Toa. Neither of them moved, for a long and tense moment.“Alright. What do you want?”“Safety, for myself, the mask, and the rest of my team. I also want no harm to befall Keetongu, Dume, the Rahaga, or the Matoran.”Makuta could not believe that Vakama was manipulating him so. In anger, he propelled himself forward, stopping after two steps when he saw Vakama swinging his hammer. “You can’t ask me to do nothing, to sit idly by. I refuse to be sentenced – especially by you – to a living death! Destroy the mask, Vakama, if you so dare – and we will watch time end together!”He had given this possibility enough thought in the moments that he had had to work it out. He believed what he had said to the Master of Shadows, down to every last word – and he was truly prepared to obliterate the entirety of temporal normalcy if it meant saving all that he cared about from this evil, evil being. With only the barest hint of hesitation, his hammer descended.“W-” Makuta began. But he had not time to finish his word, or even his thought, for he had begun both past the point of no return.In the last few milliseconds of normality, all Makuta could do was watch, his mind steeped in the throes of utter horror.The hammer made contact with the Vahi, a Visorak’s web of cracks appearing across the face. Orange and white and gold and red and yellow light burst forth from its fractured face, pure liquid ribbons of Time streaming out of the cracks, obliterating and reshaping the function of Time in an eternal instant.This beautiful, horrible, contained mosaic of Time could not last for more than the brief moment that it had appeared. The last moment of the old was the beginning of the new, if the beginning of the new could ever be pinpointed. As the Vahi shattered into bits, a wave of pure Time pulsed out of its remains.Everything changed.Vakama still retained a modicum of his consciousness, though it was awash with bits of his own life story melding into one. How long he could retain the memories of the old Time, he could not say. How long had he even been here … a second, or a millennium?Cautiously, he glanced down at his hands. One was old and decrepit, while the other was shiny, polished and new. Looking back up, he saw a Matoran, frozen in time, delivering a bag of old masks that he’d slung over his shoulder to the furnaces of the Reclamation Yard. I wore that mask as a Matoran, something in Vakama’s deep consciousness echoed. Funny how the mind and soul focused on tiny idiosyncrasies when there was nothing else to do, when all hope was lost forever …Then, he realized, he was not looking at a mere coincidence that the Vahi’s unleashed energies had so released onto the new reality a Matoran who wore a powerless Huna. He was, in fact, looking at himself, when he was an amateur maskmaker – and as soon as he realized that he was gazing upon the visage of himself, he was overcome with an eternity of new and yet old memories, staring up as a Matoran to a motionless and unrecognized Toa.His Matoran form would be standing there forever, and after forever. After that, who could say?Walking away, into another time, he was surprised to find Makuta standing there, motionless. Vakama wondered briefly if Makuta was trapped in the folds and creases of the unpredictable flow and ebb of Time, but that thought was dispelled, for Makuta turned towards him.“You fool,” the Master of Shadows uttered. He raised his arm and blasted pure shadow energy towards the Toa, unheeding of Vakama’s prior warnings … then again, his warnings of what would happen might come to pass a century from now.The shadows never reached him, flowing away and around the Toa – through the ages into oblivion. Vakama could see the delineations and ripples of Time as the shadows roiled around him, him protected in his sphere, composed of the random fluctuations in temporal energy.Presently, his own body was changing. Phantom memories hounded his head, gnawing voraciously at his painfully retained consciousness and his very sense of self. Was this bubble speeding him up, or regressing him? Or both?He was acutely aware at that very moment of a simple and undeniable fact – that what he was experiencing was what is was like to die, and to die a hundred thousand million ways at once, all at once, and at the same time not to ever die at all. His own head screamed of nothing and everything, as his thoughts over his entire life merged into a cacophony of sensation and utter silence, beyond the true domains of feeling into the realm of the purely impossible.For the rest of the pathetic and horrible sentence of life and death that he had been forced to judge upon him and the rest of his beloved world, he alone would carry the feeling of doubt, a feeling so powerful as to transcend whatever state he was in.Now and never, he would have both all and none, in a future that was in the past and a present that would never again exist.He never got a chance to mourn the end of his world, and now he didn’t even have to. -- I've had the idea for this story pretty much ever since I read Time Trap, but only a few days ago did I decide to write it out. As per my usual writing style, I stayed up until 1:00 in the morning finishing it off, using the dialogue from the book as a base. Comments, as always, are appreciated.
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This epic is a sequel to Vakama, Roodaka, and the Mask of Time, which can be found here. This epic is a part of the archive. However, I have elected to post the full story here, and avoid a bunch of archive hunting. Archived Chapters: Prologue The Turaga As the night embraced the Matoran/Agori encampment, the six veteran Turaga sat in counsel, the flickering flames playing across the sandy ground. For many of the hardened warriors of Metru Nui, the flames transported them back to a time when darkness came from within as well as without, when they had been forced to do what every prideful hero dreads - ask for help. "To begin" said Turaga Vakama. "We must accept our ignorance. The Matoran of Metru Nui are asking for our guidance. But I am afraid, brothers and sisters that we have little to give." None of the Turaga spoke up to object to that. Finally, Turaga Whenua spoke up. “Vakama is right. We must learn from the past. Ignorance is our past-” “…and will be our future, if we do not act” Nuju finished. Whenua smiled and clapped his fellow Turaga on the back. “Anyway” said Onewa, glaring at the Onu- and Ko-Metru Turaga, “We agree that ignorance is a problem, so why are we sitting here talking about it? Let us explore this new world, talk to its inhabitants, learn!” “Onewa, that task is too great for us alone” Nokama said. “We are but Turaga, and this world is a great one.” Matau broke in. “Perhaps we should quick-ask the Matoran to task-help.” “Brother, we cannot risk harm to the Matoran. This world is full of dangers!” Nokama shuddered. “This is a job for Toa. Not for a group of powerless Turaga who must debate every point.” All the Turaga looked at Nokama. Then they looked at Vakama. “I know” he said “That we are not powerless, Nokama.” Slowly, he pulled out the Mask of Time from his pack and set it on the ground in between him and the fire. The six Turaga gasped. “I thought you said it was stolen” Turaga Onewa said. “Even we have allies” Vakama whispered fiercely. “It has been recovered.” “Who?” Nuju wondered aloud. “Who would align with a bunch of old fools?” “Us” said a voice from the shadows. “After all, most of us have little amusement these days, and taking on the Shadowed One and a few paltry threats from this new world would be…entertaining enough to preserve sanity.” Flame danced across her form as she advanced toward the fire, her eyes glowing in refraction, her body shrouded in shadow. “Vakama!” Nokama gasped. “What have you done?” Chapter 1 Roodaka Behind Roodaka, Makuta Teridax towered over a Keelerak and Mazeka. “Great” muttered Nuju, “All we need is an enormous Rahi…” A hissing sound came from the Turaga’s seat, and he…disappeared into the dark. Whenua’s Ruru revealed a giant Rahi worm curled around Nuju, its gaping maw closed around the Turaga’s throat. Before anyone else could react, Roodaka snapped her fingers. The Keelerak launched a spinner, paralyzing the creature, which flew away from Nuju, his mask faintly glowing as a Lorahk was consumed in flame. “Bad joke, horde-queen” growled Nuju. “Vakama, I hope age has not blinded you to her talents.” “It was not her doing, Turaga.” The voice of Makuta Teridax made even Vakama shiver, given what they were discussing. Onewa said “That’s right.” Matau looked around. “Why is the old Makuta-familiar wearing light armor?” “Vakama must have an explanation for all this” Nokama said. “Well” said Turaga Vakama, “I suppose I have a story to tell…” * * * “Not Roodaka” said Nuju. “I will not trust her near any of our villagers.” “Much as I think the Turaga of Ice has been disturbed by his unusual experience, I am inclined to agree” Nokama looked at the Turaga of Fire, wondering what might lurk beyond his eyes. But Vakama remained impassive as the other Turaga nodded their agreement to Nuju. “Very well” he said. The words carried no emotion, but all the Turaga saw what Vakama felt, a mixture of relief and sorrow and disappointment and delight. Roodaka turned and walked off into the shadows. Nuju glared. “Watch your backs. I’m sure we haven’t seen the end of her yet.” * * * Old memories run deep, thought Roodaka. Young scars last the longest and cause the most pain. She almost smiled at the thought of outsmarting her enemy, of knowing more than they did. Did they really think I was trying to get them to accept me, and then betray them? For what? There are many ways of defeating my enemy…but information is essential to that end. Wandering aimlessly through the camp, dodging the light of various beings’ fires, Roodaka wondered whether she could still call Vakama an enemy. Not exactly. That is the least of my problems. The thought of spending the rest of her existence as a wandering nomad with only a former jailer for company severely annoyed Roodaka, and the thought of aligning herself with the Toa and Matoran was next to impossible. She could return to her own people, but they were a species accustomed to hard work in factories in an area rich with resources to support them, not an unknown planet where any factories would have to be built and resources found, a process Roodaka found boring and tedious. The Visorak here might not remember their queen’s treachery, but they would have to be tracked down and trained to obey, which was too slow – by then, the Matoran and Agori would have spread across the landscape, leaving Roodaka no land base. The Spherus Magnans, however, might prove willing and useful subjects, if Roodaka could convince them to obey her. Toward the western side of camp, three beings sat around a fire, shielded from the incoming night wind by a large piece of prototype robot leg armor. Roodaka approached slowly, staying well out of view. The smallest of the three beings nodded. “The excellent location will allow all the villagers to travel an equal distance from their homelands, so that there will be no dispute.” “And” said the being on the right, “The Fire Matoran and Agori will be able to settle near this ridge. I’m able to vouch for some of the those Matoran’s skill in weaponry and defense.” The tall being on the left sighed. “We are all in agreement on the site for New Atero. But those two passes will have to be guarded, and scouts placed on that ridge.” “What exactly are we defending against, Ackar? All the threats against us have been defeated, and we’ve been out here, in the open, vulnerable for weeks. They fear us.” “No, Raanu. They are simply biding their time, plotting their next move.” Raanu threw up his hands. “Whatever you think is best, Ackar. But I think you are imagining shadows and swords where there are none to be found, having lived under the eyes of your enemies for centuries.” “Perhaps” said the third being. “But better to fear imagined swords than to be crushed by real ones.” He had the marks of having lived in Roodaka’s universe, and something about him seemed vaguely familiar. It was at his point the conversation seemed to falter between the three beings, and the two Spherus Magnans left, presumably to get rest, and seeing that there was nothing more to be heard, Roodaka left. She found a place outside the camp, unable to forget the expression on the Toa of Fire’s face - furious, burdened, and very much alone. * * * The light of the flames of Solis Magna slowly crawled across the encampment, slipping across a certain Agori’s eyes. A few minutes later, he was making his way across the encampment. He walked past a curved piece of prototype leg armor, then redoubled back, looking down at the map Toa Tahu had spread out before him. The Toa of Fire looked up. “The site for New Atero is here.” He quickly explained the map to the Agori, who quickly darted away, toward the far side of camp, zigzagging as he went. More Agori and Matoran joined him, threading their way into the area where Thronatus were parked. Several Agori leaped onto a vehicle, and the one who started it all drove the party away. * * * Roodaka stood on a small hill, observing what went on below. Hands on hips, armored feet on two boulders someone – Mata Nui, in Roodaka’s opinion – had jammed into the sandy mound, the former Visorak viceroy never saw the dark figure behind her until she felt the sting of the sword in her back. Fortunately, Roodaka was able to roll with the force of the blow, snapping the long sword in half. The wound was poorly delivered, but it had severed some armor and tore through some of the muscle in her back, making it difficult to stand. The Keelerak, approaching from behind, launched a spinner at the newcomer. He slumped over, paralyzed. Roodaka sauntered over and lifted him up and smashed his head up against the rock, grimacing in pain from her wound. Laying him out flat on the rocky hill, Roodaka knelt to examine him. Mutating things requires a certain amount of knowledge. True, Roodaka could just launch a spinner at a form and will it to become another, but the more dissimilar the form, and the less Roodaka knew, the more energy it would require. Attempting too complex a transformation could be fatal. Fortunately, due to her training with the Dark Hunters, who had more than their share of dead enemies, acquiring a good deal of knowledge on Matoran Universe inhabitants was simple. This being had all the marks of a Spherus Magnan, and Roodaka had thought to get a basic idea of his anatomy before releasing him. Organic Tissue, Roodaka thought. This being is completely organic. They just embedded the armor in his tissue to protect him… The Keelerak chirped in the language of the Visorak. Five Skrall warriors surrounded the ridge. Roodaka scowled. The Keelerak fired two acid spinners, disarming two Skrall, who ran away. Roodaka leveled her spinner launcher at the remaining Skrall, firing toward the lead Skrall, who dodged easily. Outnumbered, Roodaka retreated off the ridge. However, she kept her spinner launcher leveled, watching as the leader approached the ridge, the other two climbing over the rocky sides. Once they were inside the ridge, Roodaka gestured to the Keelerak. Six more spinners and sixteen minutes later, the job was done, the details of which would make the Shadowed One smile. Suffice it to say that there was one very dead Skrall and later, three very confused Agori. What Roodaka didn’t know was that she had made a very serious mistake. * * * Cautiously, and with a deal of pain, Roodaka mounted the mysterious machine. It wasn’t overly complex, but it took her a few minutes to get used to the controls. Intensely aware of her surroundings, the Vortixx eased the contraption through the encampment, increasing speed as she left it, flying over the sand to new realms to explore and conquer… The air in front of her shimmered, and Roodaka, unable to see ahead, wrenched the transport to a dead stop, trying to clear her vision. The golden armor of Makuta Teridax appeared in front of her, emerging from his teleport right in front of the astonished Vortixx. “All right” scowled Roodaka “You drive.” Chapter 2 Mazeka Mazeka was miserable. Obviously, being a Ko-Matoran, standing in front of a fire wasn’t exactly comfortable, but he had willingly had endured worse things during his Orader of Mata Nui training. The bigger problem was that his mind was full of questions and no answers which had always annoyed him. Roodaka had been sent away. If Vakama’s history was complex, these other Turaga’s relation to her was simple – she was an enemy, and they wanted nothing to do with her. He had seen the same look of contempt on agents sent to interrogate prisoners. Whatever complex history Vakama had, it raised Mazeka’s suspicions. He knew from experience how deadly a traitor could be. He needed to discuss this with Teridax. Unfortunately, private discussion wasn’t a luxury he could afford, due to the Turaga in front of him and their discussing a plan, which he would soon be involved in. Nokama was advocating a settlement not far from the original camp at an estuary, which the other Turaga reluctantly approved. Matau still wanted to explore the Great Forest with a contingent of Le-Matoran. After some debate, it was decided that they should go, but take a number of Gukko Birds and scouts, and to seek out some Glatorian to go along. The other Turaga sought to explore the mountainous lands to the North. By now Mazeka was lost in his own thoughts, but the end result seemed reasonable. At least, that was what the Matoran remembered before he lay back on the sand to sleep… * * * When Mazeka awoke, he experienced that terrible where-am-I feeling you usually experience after reentering life at a different place then you left it. Fortunately, the feeling was transient enough – he was in a tent on Spherus Magna – and he stood, ever watchful and wary. “Good Morning” Mazeka’s fellow traveler looked up from his meditative pose. The tent was small, certainly not large enough for the armored colossus to stand, so he was forced to ease himself – backwards – out of the tent. If it had been any other person, Mazeka would have winced in sympathy for the person’s sheer humiliation. Well, he did wince, but he didn’t say anything about it, seeing as the veteran Makuta didn’t say anything about it. “Vakama” said Mazeka. “Yes?” “I think he could be a traitor.” “He was a traitor” said Makuta Teridax. “Long ago. But his heart lies with the Matoran, not with Roodaka.” “Yes.” said a voice from nearby. “I did betray my team - once – in times before. It is twice as painful for the betrayer as the betrayed, when you finally know what you have done…” He broke off, overcome by sadness. Mazeka put a hand on his shoulder. “You came back. You overcame the madness which I saw overcome another.” Vakama nodded bitterly. “If it is within my power to do so, you will not see it again. But I see that your eyes burn with curiosity, Matoran. Perhaps, when these immediate matters are settled, I will call Kopeke the Chronicler, and you can read the Tales of the Toa Metru. For I have walked the painful roads of memory once, and would not like to do so again.” “I understand.” * * * “I suppose we will speak with Toa Tahu and see what he can be done about getting us some transport to the North.” “Coward” said Mazeka. “Why don’t you talk to those Agori? I’m sure I could broker a deal.” “Mazeka, don’t” said Makuta Teridax. “There is…no need.” And the next thing the Matoran knew, he was standing on top of a machine of some sort, of the kind none of his kind had never seen. And Makuta Teridax was taking the controls from a certain renegade Vortixx. He spun it around, taking it back to the storage area. “So” Mazeka looked at the nearby Agori. “Mind if we take this for a spin?” The Agori looked around, confused. “You see, she was trying to steal this…and we brought it back…and if you let us use this we’ll take her away so she will never bother you again.” “Okay” said all the Agori. “Are you sure?” Makuta Teridax said. “Oh, no, it’s not a problem” The Agori looked at each other nervously. “Excellent” Makuta Teridax replied. * * * After they were a safe distance out of camp, Mazeka and Makuta Teridax clanked fists. Even Roodaka turned at the sound, and they could catch a flicker of a smile. * * * Miles passed as the Thornatus shot across the desert. There wasn’t much conversation, mostly because the occupants, whether feeling sorry for themselves, being overcome by the scenery, or concocting a new master plan, were lost in their own thoughts. As for Mazeka, he was cataloging motives. Why Makuta Teridax wanted Roodaka on board was beyond him – or maybe he just wanted to stop the theft of the Thornatus by Roodaka. Of course, what Mazeka had said had only made it worse. He wondered if their newfound speed of travel was worth their unwanted passenger. Soon, they had left the terrain of desert canyon behind and glided under a canopy of greenery, which, after an hours’ travel, gave way to a grassy carpet. To the left were ice covered mountains of hard stone, and to the right were shorter mountains which emitted steam and smoke. Various Agori were scouting the area, some scratching notes on tablets, others huddled in groups, pointing out various elements of the area amid much nodding. “The site for New Atero” said Roodaka. Makuta steered the craft toward the right, away from the river that cut through the ridge that the Thornatus had just climbed. Slowly, they slid off the ridge and to the base of one of the smoking mountains. “We’re looking for a site for the new Ta-Koro” Vakama explained as the group clambered off the machine, stretching stiff muscles and looking around for enemies. “Okay, so this is going to be quick” said Roodaka. “Climb mountain, make sure mountain is not a hazard, climb down, reverse direction, and I end up…somewhere.” The Keelerak sighed in disgust, muttering under its breath. Roodaka kicked it in irritation. “Move, you wretched beast, or I’ll throw you into the lava.” And so they climbed up the mountain. Mazeka didn’t particularly have much trouble – there were plenty of hand and footholds, and it wasn’t like he was a complete rookie at this. He was also beginning to like the chance to enjoy a simple challenge – until he saw Makuta Teridax using his hammer to clamber up the slope with Turaga Vakama on his back. “it is fair and just!” yelled Roodaka and Mazeka. Mazeka scowled and kept climbing, but he could hear Roodaka and the Visorak talking in excited tones behind him, which encouraged him to pick up the pace. A web shot past Mazeka’s ear. He looked to see Roodaka swing past him, holding two ends of a Visorak web in one hand and the Visorak in the other. As Mazeka watched, the former Visorak viceroy flicked her wrist, sending part of the loop over another rock on the top of the crater. The anchorage swung the Vortixx forward as well as up, allowing her to land in a low gap in the crater. “You cheat” said Roodaka, setting the Keelerak on the ground away from the Turaga of Fire. “I cheat.” “And I don’t have to” said Mazeka, marching in between the two, into the cloud of gas and steam. * * * White swirled around the Ko–Matoran. Mazeka kept walking forward, knowing that soon that the humid heat would be too much for him to tolerate. Just before he thought he’d have to turn back, a cool wind blew out of the north, and the fog around him sifted away…to reveal a sight that no other Ko-Matoran would ever see and live to tell about. He was standing half a kio from the center of a lava lake, on a long rectangular platform that protruded out into the lake. Directly in front of him, yet several kio away, lava cascaded out of a vent, perpetually filling the pulsing pool. Surrounding this, ribbons of pale blue cut through the dark rock, glowing in the evening light. But the sight was a comparably brief one – in spite of the breeze, Mazeka was already feeling dizzy from the heat exposure. He slowly walked away, and only strong mental fortitude allowed him to reach the side of his comrades before he was forced to rest on the rocky ground. Being a Ko-Matoran, he knew that he would have to leave the mountain soon or risk unconsciousness and death. He also knew that he did not have the strength to make the return climb down. So Mazeka watched as Roodaka and Vakama walked out towards the center of the lake, hoping that they would make their decision quickly. He watched the lava bubble, noting the fact that it seemed to bubble in some places and not in others. He saw the twin columns of flame leap up and melt through the stone in front of what Vakama stood on. He heard Roodaka say “Vakama.” and then, “Vakama!” as she dashed forward toward the severed end. Review Topic
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Over the Down-Time, I made quite a few drawings; Some I am still amazed at, and others did for boredom. You should tell which from which. Lhikann and Kanohi Dragon Battle at the Great Barrier -Abandoned Toa The Shadowed One -WIP Takadox Close-Up -Abandoned Takadox Head -Abandoned Rude Awakenings- Pridak -Abandoned Great Spirit head Nektann and Takanuva Siphonatores Chirox -WIP (Well, I'm pending if I should color this or not. :/) Mask of Twilight (Light and Shadow) ~EDIT~ I am currently drawing Light Teridax vs. Three Shadow Takannuva. It should be done in a few days. So, tell me if you like any of them, or if I should continue on any of the abandoned ones.Thanks.
