Franco

[NPC] IC: Sajis soon led the ragtag band of misfits into the headquarter's lobby, an earthen room of middling size with several chairs to each corner. The Kru-Lesterin curled behind its desk, a spartan granite construct, glowed as the party entered the room. She politely flashed a stunning smile. "Ah, Sajis," she said, teeth brilliant in the light of her armor and the array of luminescent stones lining the chamber, "what disorder is it this time?"

IC: Gavarm tossed the cigar off-board. "Sca-rew it," He muttered, kicking his Ussal slightly as he drew his long sword and saperka.

"Colonel?"

"Off th' boat," The officer drawled. He gave a cursory glance to the vacant alley, all civilians abandoning it at the sound of gunfire. It would do as his highway to the scene of action. He settled into a high guard to bring his blades down with greatest force.

"Chargin' dem sons uhv guns, Form Fahve. Uhffective im-med-i-uht-ly."

IC: Doomie frowned. His efforts to stop TEH MEANIE-PU had been thwarted. Again. His BOOM had been thrown back at him. Again.

He supposed it was time for another change in tactics.

"YOU DON'T LIKE 'FETCH'..."

Said "change in tactics" constituting telekinetically flinging the BOOMFRUIT instead of physically. Doomie's heroic willpower would surely allow the fruit to search and destroy that villainous smirk without hurting Mr. Heroman. That's how all the heroes did it in books, anyway, and Doomie was going to be a hero in a gazillion hundred thousand million books when he grew up.

"WHAT ABOUT 'HOT POTATO'?"

IC: Doomslayer was not having a good day.

The MEANIE-PU was so mean that he threw the BOOM Doomie had given him away. And ruining his GRINAED LAWNCHAIR, too! It was only out of his sheer awesome that he knew the EVULZ was out to get him and made a tactical retreat behind some Matoran's house. But what could he do to fight such a big stick-in-the-mud he couldn't even get hit? Shushing himself, he looked out from behind the wall.

A fellow epic hero, such as his illustrious self, had come to poke the PUPIEHED! Doomie grinned. Now was his chance to prove himself companion to that dashing man! Maybe they could even be friends. His eyes lit up. The two BFFs, together forever, doing friend things like punching people in DA FAEC and singing songs and playing with CAPPIE and RAKKIE...

He hoped Raknar wouldn't be mad.

"STOOPITFAEC!" While the aforementioned villain was distracted, Doomie would assist his new companion in Mr. Heroman. He pulled out a BOOMFRUIT and chucked it at the MEANIE-PU. If it stuck, maybe Mr. Heroman could poke it. And then they would be bound forever by BOOM. He drooled a little at the thought. "EAT LETTUCE!"

The cloak observed the other motionless figure. It made no effort to act yet, though. More evidence was required before it could deem the being either a threat or an ally. Until then, the specter remained stationary.

IC: Gavarm laid a cautionary hand on Aar's shoulder, speaking steadily and with an unhurried informality. "Whale guard th' ship." He withdrew a cigar and lit up, puffing away as his gaze fell on the combat. "No use le-uh-vin' naow ta lose hit. B'sahds...too far."

The cloak hovered meters behind the other fighters of the embattled hut in question. The Machine was silently attuning to the area around itself, mind reaching through the mass of metal, sounds, and pictures to amass a set of data regarding the combat as a whole. Analysis would determine if any action was necessary to support the present position or to rearrange it.

"HEY, YOU! BOW-PEOPLE!"

Doomslayer wasn't quite sure of what "supporting the present position" meant, but he figured it had something to do with yelling at MEANIE-PUS until they stopped being MEANIE-PUs. YOU KNOW BOWS ARE STICKS THAT SHOOT OTHER STICKS?"

So he did.

"LIKE, SHOOTSTIX!"

From the looks on said MEANIE-PU's faces, though, that wasn't going to change any time soon. Aw, man! Just when he was about to get to the best part, where he SAVEDED DE DAIZ!

"WELL."

Come to think of it, what was he gonna do, again? To which he answered: "MAKE THEM EAT LETTUCE! DUH." Right, because lettuce was a plant and wood was a plant so all he had to do was stuff TEH SHOOTSTIX up their noses and...okay, he forgot what happened after that. Darn.

It was at precisely that moment that the Captain Aki Rua Doomslayer had the best idea in all his decidedly EXPLODY life.

"THIS..."

He whipped out his newest toy, cocked it-

"IS MY BOOMSTICK!"

-pulled its trigger-

BOOM

-and let DE BOOMSTICK send its BOOM right at the Toa MEANIE-PU's STOOPITFAEC.

IC: Goal achieved. "Onu-Koro market. Ta-Koro Guard headquarters."

IC: I consider. Rise with Leah's words, uncurling from thinking position to look at all and bring my weight to bear. Pondering investigation as last.

Conditions stable? Yes. Ergo, there is reason to argue for that previous thought.

"Get the others. Then decide."

IC: "TREZUR?!," Came the stupefied echo right on cue, its beret-wearing utterer emerging to cast his cobalt gaze immediately above Lasinia's own. The elation of a child gleamed in his awed peering towards the other boat.

The Doomslayer was back.

IC: Briefly releasing a status update to command central, Gavarm and his fellows boarded the ironclad leviathan and stowed their mounts in the belly of the ship. The six promptly returned to the deck and relaxed as they waited for further instruction. Gavarm took his time off to examine the ship from his position. His travels into Ga-Wahi had brought him into contact with shipbuilders on several occasions; knowing what he had learned in conservation with them, he was interested to determine the Fowadi's make and specific purpose as best he could. After all, knowing was half the battle.

OOC: Ussalry can do as they like as long as they don't leave the deck.

IC: The left corner of Gavarm's lips curled upwards slightly. "Whale...Ah'm Heavy Ussalry Colonel Gavarm and this is mah squadron at y'all's survice," He drawled, lightly nodding to the five riders arranged behind him. "Pleasah ta meetcha."

IC: The Po-Wahi sun had wilted away the vigor of many a traveler, but Gavarm had yet to see an Ussalmatoran threatened with that fate. As a matter of fact, he observed, his squadron had met every goal thus far set before it. But their mission was not over. And who knew when it really would end? He was acutely aware of mortality with that thought. He had read on the science of the desert; even when a being had died in the arid barrens, it might still be preserved long after it had stopped functioning. The theory went that the sweltering temperature and the absence of hydration desiccated the expired into the brittle statues observed when the mummification was through. It was all remarkably similar to a similar process that bodies lost in Ko-Wahi underwent. In that way, he supposed idly, the wastes had more in common than just their lack of foliage and aridity. They both killed while immortalizing the defeat of anyone who failed to adapt to their conditions. Some said the world would end in fire, some said in ice. Gavarm thought either would do just fine.

There were other things to do now than think, though. Halting the march before the Fe-Toa who spoke of a criminal hunt, he saluted, dragging a half-lidded glance over the evident First Mate. The Matoran was well aware that it was not often a military called for assistance of any sort. Gavarm guessed that the business here might thus be of the import necessary to justify its inclusion in his current mission, so it followed that he would join forces with the Sentinels. He merely had to ensure that all was as he expected.

"Sal-you-tay-shuns, officer. Whaht criminul are ya talkin' about?"

IC: Twelve Ussalmen entered the Village of Stone. Six sat atop agile crustaceans commanded by an ebullient sprite, eyes wide open as they sought the finest in the land's technology. Six rode plated behemoths led by a byzantium warrior, smile faintly etched on visage as he anticipated the hunt of a century. With a final salute to each other and a nonchalant mass murmur, the contingency parted, its two halves separating to do that which they had been ordered.

Twelve entered. Six would leave.

OOC: Your cue.

INFJ all the way. Going for the Goethe.

[NPC] IC: The guards saluted. "Affirmative." Within moments, a cadre of six Ussalmatoran had materialized and was wheeling the trussed Toa away on a stretcher featuring mechanized restraints.

Spoilers: the nobility is actually 99% of the population.

"For far too long, the common people of this land have been abused by its archaic system of hereditary tyranny. Therefore, I implore you - revolt against your oppressors and bring forth a new age of equality on these Kentoku isles! Rise up! Viva la revolución! WE ARE THE 1%!"

IC: I stride through the village. Into atrium. In office.

"...Ambages of Ko-Koro as well. Where might I find him?"

I swing. Stalk to the speaker. Le-Koronan passing envelope to the Captain of the Guard. Courier. Looks Gukko Force. I step alongside him, looking to Korzaa, then nod. Any authority of that standing is a reliable source for our intent.

 

International diplomacy would be much more fun.

Good God.

 

Grochi what is wrong with you.

 

 

 

FIVE BUCKS ON SULOV TAKING DOWN THE DASAKA SINGLEHANDEDLY

IC: Could argue. Intuition gives an alternative conclusion, logic supporting. "Irrelevant. 'Everything about this feels wrong' because circumstances have changed. Regardless of result, necessity for the method to achieve it perturbs."

The method spins in my head, under examination for effectiveness, and I trundle on.

I've been noticiing an increase in IC references to Piraka "atrocities" as they put it in the Kentoku Archipelago. Has this been confirmed or just player world-building?

The Piraka indeed proved themselves criminals on the Kentoku Archipelago. However, the exact nature of their crimes (beyond the flashback resistance of arrest) has yet to be revealed.

IC: "Dirty." I pause, trudging on. Emotions are rarely relevant. Weigh them first. Then expose them for the question.

"Feels wrong to investigate without the others, defined suspicion, specific plan, and knowledge of Ambages. We only have parts of all, missing the picture."

OOC: buffer post for EW.

IC: The Matoran Mars scratched about in the Village of Air and was well aware that the night was dark and full of burgers.

IC: The chill seeps in. Flakes toss, wind springing them from the disturbance of the bustle. I hunch and ponder.

(Actions, not words.)

And thoughts before actions. Assessment: source of information trustworthy? Yes. Information? Yes. Plan considerate?

No.

Authority is different than impulse. Gathering information regarding Ambages with the haste to even avoid getting Stannis and Oreius for a discussion is reckless. This need be on the greatest authority to be necessarily immediate.

Let's test that.

I look at Reordin.

His head tilts slightly up, then down.

Necessity confirmed.

I turn and walk for my target. And plot tagging him. Requirement: surpass difficulty inherent in touching people without punching and/or hugging.

IC: Calamitous. Too early. Unity had been seconds ago, now it is not at all.

("Fundamentals: gods.")

Reordin...

"Ko-Koronan Captain of the Guard's office."

IC: I embrace both and nod to the niceties. A turn and I tip my head to the Akiri. Enter. Examine the room.

A pall hangs over the group. Their smiles are strained, from relief more than other factors. Their stances are tense. Hugs stiff. Maru together, but distant by reflex. Oppressed. On edge.

(Ergo.)

Requirement-discover the reason for the solemnity.

I keep my mask blank and direct it toward Korero. Let's fulfill that requirement.

"News."

Definitely darn diabolical and a brooding boss. It's cool.