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25K Now!

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Year 10

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About 25K Now!

  • Birthday 10/09/1998

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    Aus
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    Not being murdered by my Engineering/Science undergrad.

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    flightofcrimson
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  1. IC: Times were changing in the village of stone. It used to be that she'd spend at least an hour every two days or so here, just… taking a breath, taking stock of things. Talking to Prei, when he had words he wanted to say. Or just sitting in silence. ‘Here’ being the doughnut shop, of course. At least it hadn’t been smashed in the airship attack, the Rahkshi attack, any of the assorted bar fights-- Point is, the doughnut shop had survived a lot. Enough to be a fixture of the Koro, no matter how it changed. She glanced across at the lavender-grey Toa at the table with her, taking a deep breath. Another reminder of simpler times. But at least he was still with her. “Is it just me, or has the recipe for these things changed?” “They changed the ratio of milk to eggs,” her long-time friend replied, quietly taking a bite of the humongous cinnamon doughnut in his hands. “It feels … softer and chewier.” She regarded her own doughnut for a few moments, the soft glow of her blue eyes running over the sprinkles and glaze. “Hmm.” Tera took another bite, chewing pensively. There was a long pause, then she spoke again. “I… I’m not sure how I feel about this.” “You dislike it?” “Mmm. It’s definitely different. Different might be good.” Her eyes opened wide again from the intense squint she’d been considering the doughnut with, and she gestured to her old partner with it. “No Makuta. That’s different, that’s good.” “Makuta-free doughnuts …” Prei took another bite. His expression didn’t particularly change, but after the millennia they had known each other, she knew that behind his dull eyes, he was likely in deep contemplation. “I like them,” he said finally. “They feel nice. Comfier. But … the taste seems a bit more complicated, too.” His gaze met hers. “Does it satisfy you as much as before?” She let her current bite sit on her tongue for a few moments before chewing and swallowing. She’d always been the more outwardly emotional of the two, but Prei likely had more nuance to his lack of expression than she did overall. Just had to know how to look for it. “I think so,” Tera paused for a moment, biting her lower lip, then nodded. “It does. I do believe this is an improvement, though a little strange when you’re used to the old recipe. Definitely nice to be Makuta-free.” “The old flavour I miss sometimes,” admitted the other Toa. “But, this new one is a testament to everybody’s efforts to make something new. It’s something I can take more time to enjoy.” He glanced over at the fading red curtains at the back of the store, where they knew the kitchen to lie beyond. “It wouldn’t be polite to ask for the old recipe.” “No, not at all,” Tera mused, finishing off her doughnut. “Not polite to try to go back to how they were before. No point in it, really.” She held up a fresh cruller as an example. “For better or for worse, this is how the doughnuts are now.” The Po-Toa paused, then looked back toward the kitchen, following Prei’s glance. “I agree. I think this new one will grow on me.” “Mmm. To resist change can only lead to sorrow.” Prei leaned back, the humongous cinnamon doughnut gone, as if it had disappeared into thin air. He had, in that short time, consumed it whole. And though it did not seem like it, the Toa of Gravity was very much satisfied. “Whose turn is it today?” “Mine, I believe.” Tera tossed a few widgets on the table, standing and pulling her scabbard and shield from the back of the chair, strapping them on her waist and back. “See you tomorrow, Prei.” “Have a safe journey home, Tera.”
  2. IC: It was a grotesque little thing, writhing and squirming with all the enthusiasm of a dying animal. That was to say, the disgusting "tentacle" was a surprisingly accurate facsimile of a Razor Whale floundering pathetically atop a Ga-wahi sandbank, its life essence draining away in ragged breaths as the Sun's heat made seafood of its barely functioning body. It seemed that there was very little difference between the dead and the un-living - they were equally inanimate and pitiful in the end. Although, it was pretty harsh of him to describe his own creation in such a way. It didn't reflect well on him either, especially when his own wrist had fathered the rope of liquid steel now thrashing against his armoured palm. Its disappointing performance wasn't entirely due to its existence as an ugly, experimental chunk of metal, but because his parenting skills hadn't been up to snuff either. It wasn't very "dadly" of him to place all the blame on his own spawn. And it was very much, a hundred percent, his own spawn. Not the spawn of Teridax or anything else like that. No, it was absolutely, definitely, his spawn. It was protruding from his left arm, after all. And he distinctly remembered giving birth to it. Shame that it would never compare to its siblings. It would never meet his expectations, unlike the blades that he had so painstakingly crafted in his time as a blacksmith. It was the black sheep of the family, forever overshadowed by its betters - those blessed by Mata Nui's generosity. And like every disappointing child, its fate was oblivion. "Okay, that's starting to get a little too creepy." His arm shuddered, and the metallic tentacle was absorbed in its entirely. "Well, this experiment was honestly creepy from the very beginning." It was probably for the best if he stuck to swords. "Still ..." The Nui-Rama hadn't left. It floated ahead of him, above that great chasm. It was waiting, watching, for a hapless victim to menace, together with the small swarm he could feel - he could hear - hidden and ready in the darkness of the jungle brush. A hapless victim like him, perhaps. Someone arrogant enough to believe they could destroy one Rahi, only to fall prey to its brethren as they tore him apart, rendering his flesh and armour into chunks that would never be found, for the chasm would swallow them whole. But fortunately, he wasn't arrogant enough to believe he could fight a single Nui-Rama. In fact, he hated Nui-Rama. He was terrified of Nui-Rama. Maybe it was a little irrational of him to be so frightened by a single species of Rahi, but he absolutely detested insects. Giant insects. Giant insects with swarming behaviour. Giant, hostile insects with swarming behaviour that could murder him with extreme prejudice and leave his remains to the scavengers. He had no shame in admitting that right now. It wasn't like there was anyone else around. In any case, it was his fear that was keeping him rooted to the branch. Keeping him from flying over the ravine and drawing the attention of the Nui-Rama. He didn't want to draw its attention at all. He actually didn't even really want to look at a Nui-Rama. But, even if he was to choose another way around, some other hapless fool would probably come along at some point and find themselves dead in a very large ditch. Meaning that he needed to deal with the Nui-Rama. Not because he wanted to help some hypothetical other traveller or anything. This was entirely self-serving. This was a great opportunity for him to face his fears. Any heroism or benefits for others were entirely incidental to that. His willingness to do this was entirely for himself, not to help others. Was it dishonest? Probably. But, he was trying and failing to construct some sort of "large iron net" all because he didn't want to see a Nui-Rama carcass, so maybe there was some truth in it. That hadn't panned out very well, though. So there was only really one route left open to him. "Yeah, I should stick to swords." Curling his fingers into a gun-like shape, he made a "pew" sound. The flying blade screamed through the air and into the insect's brain. It stopped. It fell. It died. The little swarm in the jungle behind the ravine dispersed into the air with a terrifying sound. "Well, I hope I have enough in stock."
  3. Delete this.
  4. Supes wack. Legit.
  5. WHAT THE WE LITERALLY THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD
  6. IC: The Fourth "It'll be okay, it'll be okay, it'll be okay ..." Whether those words for the sake of others or for herself, Four had long forgotten. Ever since their arrival, ever since the hospital had recruited her into their efforts to help everyone, she had been constantly on the move, attending to the bedsides of all who had been injured. She hadn't a single moment to rest, not even to recuperate with the Fowadi crew that she had fought alongside. She could only give those comforting, reassuring words, provide as much healing as possible, and keep moving. And it was her who reached Krayn first. For a moment she hadn't even recognised them. It was only after she dropped down to Krayn's side, drawing out her elemental essence and funnelling it into the badly wounded Toa of Sonics, did the realisation come. And with that realisation, both relief and panic. Relief that he -- with Naona and Dehkaz beside him -- had made it out of the warzone alive, and panic that it would be her actions that decided whether he lived or died. It was selfish of her, perhaps. Unfair, perhaps, on everybody else she had healed that day. But because it was Krayn -- because it was this stubborn little boy who she had chosen to call a brother -- she put just a bit more effort into it. Channelled just a little bit more of her power over Water. Because she could save him. Because she could stabilise him. "It'll be okay, it'll be okay," she spoke softly, gently. Her hands were glowing over his unconscious body. "You're safe now." And slowly, surely, health was beginning to return to that Aggressor. OOC: @Krayzikk
  7. I don't think the staff would've noticed either. They've been taking some time to rest, after all.
  8. C'est la vie, as they say.
  9. IC: Prei Prei got some doughnuts.
  10. Krayzikk probably wouldn't have noticed if your character just turned up without having ever been in jail at the start of next arc lmao. Would've missed out on actually RPing a cool prison break, but that's the easiest way to pull off a prison break.
  11. do not trust onarax to finish things on time
  12. @Pteronura Brasiliensis lmao look at this uncreative trend-chaser
  13. Pretty wack to see you back into the BZPRPGroove, my dude.
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