Visaru

IC Dorgath smiled enigmatically and stood tall, as he had been for the last few minutes, observing the dozens of other brave men stepping up to answer the call. Truly, today, was a good day. Mata-Nui smiled on them all. Dorgath could tell this was a mission of great importance to his lord- why else would so many men be brought to this bar to answer this call to arms? Not to mention the signs presented to Dorgath, as clear as day. Last night he had dreamt that Mata-Nui spoke to him 'Your calling is coming soon,' the voice had spoken, 'a chance to strike at the heart of the enemy and fulfill your calling as my hand and voice.' The voice had spoken in a lisp. The lisp of the speaker, asking for heroes to step up and help him. But that was not all- the yesterday Dorgath had lost what savings he had to a crook, a robber in a back alley who had slit his purse before Dorgath could turn on him with his spear. Dorgath had wondered why his lord saw it fit to take all his earnings. Why would he punish Dorgath for doing the work of God? But it was made obvious when the speaker had offered this monetary reward. Mata-Nui had taken the money to push Dorgath into this quest. All the signs were aligned, his mission set clear before him- follow this brave man through the dark and the horror, through thick and thin, and help him succeed in his quest. This was his mission, his destiny. As clear as day, illuminated in clarity with Mata-Nui's light. Dorgath looked up from under his hood and clenched his spear tightly, standing tall and righteous, as he spoke his next words. "I am ready."

OOC This Glorious Post was only written partially by me, but i'm the only one who actually has the energy to post it. Sit back and enjoy the greatest questioning scene ever. Also enjoy the timeskip. IC The Ga-Matoran guard sat down reluctantly at the desk with a sigh, pulling out the pile of paperwork and beginning the tedious job of questioning those involved in the battle and murder. It was made even more complicated by the presence of the other militaries, a group of privateers, and the presence of some mysterious entity that had hired the mercenaries. Not to mention the time it had taken to round up those involved and clean up the mess involved. Maybe taking these statements, at least, would be quick and easy, she hoped. She was in for a disappointment. - "First off, I'd just like to say that at no point was I under the influence of alcohol," "And I would just like to say that the person who punched the gravity toa with the bomb had no connection to us whatsoever." - "Sir, this man claims you-" "Hold up sister- before we start, make sure that sketch artist has his a-game together, alright? This face is a sculpture in motion. Don't slack on it." - "...Between you an' me, mate, I think 'e might be a criminal." - "No no, it must be a different Verak who committed all those crimes and broke out of jail. I've a different mask, see? And, uh, I don't go by sir. Isn't there some right I can plead that gets me out of this stuff?" - "Where were you at the time of the altercation?" "Uh...I was making some crisps. You know, like, peel some potatos, slice 'em thin, salt..." "Uh-huh. And what'd you say your name was?" "Cap'n Raknar." "It's an old family name." - "Him! Yes! I'd know 'im anywhere!" "And -why- would you know this 'Cap'n Raknar' anywhere, sir?" "He's been tryin' ta poison me for the last month." "Not my fault you have the taste buds of a barnacle. See here, Corporal, there are certain specimens that can't appreciate fine art. Captain Lohkar here is one of them." "YOU 'AVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN SILENT" "Look, I just need your statement on what happened, not the state of anyone's taste buds." - “You do realize that you weren’t actually present at the altercation, sir?” “Unfortunate, I know; one can only imagine how much more smoothly everything would have gone had I been." "But in truth, miss, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a one-on-one session with one of Ga-Koro’s finest.” "..." “It is ‘miss’, right?” - "Look, mate...there's someone who can give you a -far- clearer explanation of what happened. He's next in line, as it happens." "Oh? And who is that?" "His name's Doomslayer." - "So there I am with half a dozen of Doomslayer's bombs and an angry hunchback, and I know just how to draw the Po-Koro Guard off my trail--" "Should you really be saying all this to the authorities?" - "Careful about Raknar. He likes to hear himself talk." - "Thing is, I had pulled up right next to the 'Vika herself! And you know, Lohkar, the dude's a total chatterbox--" - "Frankly, ma'am, it's pointless keeping me here. Everyone knows I would never say a bad thing about another crew member." "…" - "...but something just ain't right with that Grochi boy." - And that's how the collective group of rogues, military members, and both wanted and not wanted criminals were grudgingly released to get back to their business, or in one case, escaped from the authorities with a smug grin and a wink.

IC- Oshi The statement of 'Dragons' immediately drew the Menti's attention, who looked at Kagesu with her head tilted, hoping for more information.

IC ZOSS Zoss was slumped against the wall at the back of transport, breathing heavily. The hurried words of the others sounded muffled, their urgency being slowed by the thick air. The noise of their words seemed to be drowned out by the sound of blood rushing through his veins, loud as a river, and his deep ragged breaths. A thick layer of slime lay on his skin, cooling his overheating body. His mind was not in the present. It seemed to be on repeat, replaying the same images over and over: The Mantis' thick sharp forearm ripping through the metal door. A beast leaping from the darkness, mandibles wide and shrieking, legs and forearms flailing viciously. One of the aliens laying slumped against the wall in a pool of it's own bodily fluids, it's chest blown open from a laser blast. The blood and gore staining the moving mandibles of one of the monsters as it charged towards Zoss. The tapping sound of approaching monsters as they chased the slug onto the half-track. Zoss had never been in battle before- this was all new to him. He had never been pursued and almost killed by terrifying warrior-insects. He had never had the possibility of almost getting killed, and he had never seen such violence in person. So Zoss remained slumped at the back of the transport, in shock, his mind confined entirely within itself and no longer probing the world around it for information.

IC- Verak *pop* “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” Spinning spinning spinning Mata-Nui who knew the world could be so blurry and so painful look at all those multicolored lines across my vision I think I can see stars. *Splash* Water ouch the pain of impact shooting up my side. I thrashed my limbs, but for a second I didn’t know which way was up. It was all bubbles and water and being unable to breathe. I waited a few seconds, calming myself, until I could discern where the surface was, then kicked in that direction and found myself at the edge of a lilypad. I heaved myself up, grasping the edge with my left hand because my right was hurting quite a lot, then flopped over onto my back and laughed exuberantly, my voice booming out and drawing the stares of passerby. That was awesome. In case you are still too dull to figure it out, no, the explosion hadn’t magically blown be to safety. I had teleported away in the nick of time, preventing the explosive I had just smashed into a man’s face with my bare hands from harming me. The second I had felt the bomb begin to push back on my hand, beginning its explosion, I had disappeared. I hadn’t really been aiming- I had just popped into some point beyond the gravity toa’s head that had happened to be in my vision. It seemed a bit of the force from the explosion had managed to travel with me- that’s what that ridiculous spinning was, but beyond that, I looked fine. It appeared I was still in Ga-Koro, fortunately, judging by the lilypad and the Ga-Matoran looking at me curiously, but I was also fairly far from the fight. How many people can say they set off an explosive with their bare hands and came away unscathed? Well, looks like this handsome mother- I had made the mistake of glancing at my hand. Ow. I looked away pretty quickly. It appeared I wasn’t quite as quick as I had hoped. Before I had left, the madu had managed to mangle my hand and a bit of my forearm pretty bad with raw force and fire. Without looking, I tried to wiggle my fingers and I wasn’t sure if they weren’t moving, or if my hand was just entirely temporarily numb there. Hopefully it was the latter. I convinced myself that was what was most likely- the pain itself was only just starting to register, so I decided the feeling of movement would come far behind that. But, only one hand gone, one gravity toa down, and another exciting escapade to add to my resume! I’d call it a rousing success! I strode down the street, catching a few stares from the civilians due to my almost comical confidence and my mangled hand, and casually snatched a roll of bandages from a vendor’s cart. Before she could begin to shout in outrage at the loss of her goods, I had Kualsi’d off into the distance, away from harm. A few minutes later, I arrived at the former scene of the battle with panache, mid leap, and landed gracefully. My whoop turned into a yell when the pain in my hand flared up from the impact of landing, but what remained of my right hand had been bandaged so I was all set for now. Fun fact: any wound with tightly wrapped cloth around it can’t harm you until you take off the cloth. Ignoring the signals from my body telling me to worry about that hand, I looked around with a grin, proud of the carnage I had helped cause- the smoking blast craters, the unconscious body, and everyone's recently acquired battle scars. I stood proudly, showing off the fact that I had not, in fact, blown myself to smithereens.

OOC http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_zeiKrRTuk IC In the corner of the bar, half concealed by a cloud of smoke from a nearby patron's cigar, sat a matoran, the top of his mask concealed by his black hood pulled low over his eyes, only the lower half of his scarred and battered Kanohi visible. The rest of his beaten, dusty cloak flowed down from his shoulders and pooled around the base of his chair. His battered and sand coated hands rested on the table, casually wrapped around a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. His entire black and red body was just as battered and scarred and dirty, the body of a man who never did clean himself up, and who had suffered the worst of the desert's trials. Despite his apparent apathy, the Matoran appeared fixated on the one-eyed man with a lisp on the table loudly describing his offered quest - the Matoran's mask had been pointed towards the speaker ever since he uttered his first word. The matoran took a second, then swiftly rose to his feet, carelessly tossing the whiskey bottle to the ground and striding confidently over the the speaker. As he walked, he snatched up the bladed spear that had been leaning against the table and twirled it once to adjust his grip. He strode over to Komisk and stood before him, his cloak swirling dramatically, the butt of his spear planted confidently on the ground, until he drew the man's attention. "My name is Dorgath," He said proudly, loud enough for the entire bar to hear, "And Mata-Nui has sent me to aid you."

IC The explosion blossomed into a bright flower of flame, swelling up over the lilypad and letting out a loud boom. When the fire and the noise and the smoke faded away, it revealed the damage done. The lilypad itself was slightly scorched, blackened and smoking and smelling of burnt vegetable. The body of the gravity toa sank down slowly beneath the surface of the water, staining the water it had travelled through, red, and leaving a few chunks of his head lying on the ground. Of the man who had smashed the explosive into the mercenary, all that remained were a few shards of brown metal.

IC ZOSS A FEW MINUTES AGO: A sharp shudder ran through the metal floor of the bar. Dirt and rust fell from the ceiling. Roars of fire and exploding metal echoed from below and above. The patrons of bar all instinctively reached for their firearms, as if they were one machine. A few charged out immediately, the bartender disappeared into some sort of hidden safe hole, one patron responded to the stress by punching the man in the stool next to him and running like the stars. Zoss followed the Higher-Up-One's lead, slouching down below the table to remain mainly unseen, waiting until the chaos subsided. Without a word, he then followed the captain out of the bar. As the group moved past a trampled dead smuggler on the ground, Zoss stooped to scoop up his firearm, holding it tightly but making sure the safety was on. Never hurt to be cautious. Zoss' world was drowned in the loud mental shouts of his comrades- their fear, worry, and the adrenaline stimulating their brain gave out a mental roar. Zoss' own brain was undergoing a similar process. He was scared. He was in flight or fight mode, his mental senses more powerful than ever. Every mental sense was tingling, alerting the slug to the movements of even a fly buzzing through the cramped hallways. The higher-up-one killed three Mantis with apparent ease, every death astonishing the slug. As he passed, he looked at the impressive beasts. Their corded muscle was visible even under their thick carapace. Their blade-like forelegs glistened with the blood of those they had killed. One had drawn some symbol on it's forehead with the blood. One had some ritualistic piercings and tattoos, accentuating it's power and deadly appearance. These were warriors. Zoss was not a warrior. Just trying to get by. Instead, he remained mentally alert, waiting to follow whatever order was given to let him survive.

IC ZOSS Zoss slid the charter back into the folds of his slimy skin, and closely observed the two men he immediately picked out as League soldiers. He could tell they were suspicious, to say the least, and more than slightly xenophobic, even without his mental scans. He mentally prepared to defend himself, but they didn't even look at him, merely picking out the Higher-ranked-one and leaving the bar. After a respectable moment, he projected his mind into the higher-ranking-one's head. My name's Zoss- I hope you'll forgive the intrusion, the slug thought in the woman's mind. I'm merely wondering if we are in any danger and whether I should be trying to slip out the back door or not.

YOU PO-KORONANS WOULDN'T LAST THREE SECONDS IN THE KO-KORO ANNUAL WHO-CAN-STAND-IN-THE-FREEZING-SNOW-NAKED-THE-LONGEST-WITHOUT-FREEZING-TO-DEATH-CONTEST *Shakes fist* Anyway: Yeah we totally should do a Kolhii thing that would be great.

IC- Verak "HIIII-YA!" I yelled, chucking the bomb fruit with all my might at the Iron Toa mercenary, spinning once to give the throw more power. But I saw the mercenary look up at the fast approaching fruit, and instinctively he began to raise his palms to gravitationally deflect it. "Not this time, brother," I growled, having had enough of those foolish gravity powers. My eyes narrowed and I swung my bamboo stick violently at the air. Then, at the fastest point of my swing, I teleported right next to the man, so that my pole was perfectly lined up to smash him in the stomach. I barely noticed what happened next- I couldn't even tell you if I had hit him. It was all lost in a haze of adrenaline fueled action and instinctive reactions. I just remember turning around to catch the bomb I had thrown, spinning, and swinging my arm with the explosive fruit held tightly in my hand towards the gravity toa's unprotected mask. Wait a minute. Maybe this wasn't wasn't the best idea.

IC ZOSS Zoss noticed the two Federation members the instant they walked into the bar, picking out their military personalities from the unorganized criminal minds of the rest of the bar. He made no move to turn his head or look at them, but as he continued his conversation with the Engi sitting next to him he mentally scanned them a few times, tying to be unobtrusive as possible. He could tell one was of very high rank, far outranking the other, who was a warrior. The higher ranking one also had spent more time working on mental shielding, being harder to read. They meant them no harm. The slug knew without a doubt that these were his future employers. He did not turn his head to face the Federation members until the higher-ranking one sat and spoke, and when he did, he did so slowly, as if he didn't care at all. In the end, he didn't really. Although he had been told that this was a mission of great importance, or at least derived that conclusion from noticing the way others talked or thought about it, he could care less if it succeeded. The entire war, really, was inconsequential. It was all just different types of people trying to kill each other over imagined slights. A good place to try and get rich, he supposed, if one was interested in that kind of thing. Unusually for a slug, he wasn't. In the end, the war meant little for him other than an increased chance of his death. At the word of the higher-ranking one, Zoss reached into the folds of his skin and pulled out the charter, laying it flat on the table.

Sanctum guard members! Are you bored and have let your guardsmen fallen into inactivity? Do you wish you had thrown them into another Koro's army? Well, worry no longer! There's a fire roaring right now in Ko-Koro! Get your guard over there and heroically rescue some of the servants trapped inside right now, or just work on putting out the flames. Also, passing strangers needing something heroic to do are always welcome. Go fulfill those dreams you had as a child of being a firefighter! Also, Ko-Koro is no longer in lockdown, and anyone is free to enter or leave as they wish! Let's get that tourism moving again, shall we?

IC- Captain Korzaa Korzaa stood on the wall, looking out into the vast expanse of drifts beyond. It was a familiar sight. She could pick out familiar rock formations in the canyon before the Koro, find unusual icicles that she remembered, and notice everything changed in the shape of the snowdrifts. She could remember the travellers she had seen in the distance, recall the Rahi that had charged the gates. A Sanctum guard grows to know the sight as they stand motionless and stare out at it. It becomes so familiar you almost stop noticing it, like one’s home- it becomes the standard background to one’s life. Looking at it made Korzaa feel at home, feel comfortable, and helped her let go of the troubles that plagued her now. Below her, she could hear the gates grind open, a symbolic gesture showing that the Koro was open to travel once again. It was a long overdue decision, but Korzaa was like a glacier- she moved only infinitesimally slowly. She had spent a long time making sure that the report from the morgue checked out, spent a dozen hours poring over the reports and the story of Koloktos, the guard who discovered the dead body. Now, she was convinced, or convinced at least that the murderer was not going to be found in the Koro and that the assassination was not the first step in some scheme to attack and destroy her village. She stared out at the view for a little bit longer, recalling with nostalgia her days as a sentry, remembering the numbness one began to quickly feel to the fact that one could not move a muscle and the uncomfortable stiffness. She wondered far too often if that was the role that she belonged in, not the position she is in now. She didn’t feel like a good leader- she had none of the confidence or wisdom that she had always imagined they had. And she had failed her Akiri, and done nothing to let the village she lived in find a new one. How had Ambages thought that she was the one that deserved to take the mantle of her former leader? “Captain Korzaa,” She turned around to look at the messenger, a thin young cadet sucking in huge rasping breaths, exhausted from his run to the wall. “Fire.” She turned around at the word and immediately spotted the red glow flickering angrily from within the village. A house was burning. She cursed. In Ko-Koro, there was only one source of fires: Arson. IC- Sanctum Guard Fortunately for the guards, the village of ice was one of the hardest to set fire to, mainly due to the subzero temperature. Most structures were made from ice, and those that weren’t were usually made from stone. And even the wood in buildings like this one was usually frozen solid, forcing any flames that wish to spread to thaw the wood before trying to spread to the damp substance. Unfortunately, the house chosen was one of the few kept at a relatively warm, non frozen temperature, owned by a rich bureaucrat that enjoyed the heat, and the fire was spreading faster than it usually did. The guard has surrounded the burning building, armed with buckets of snow and making sure the fire did not spread to any nearby buildings and putting out as much as they could. A few braver guardsmen smashed in the door and charged into the painfully hot building to try to rescue anyone still alive. OOC TL;DR The village is no longer on lockdown and the guard is doing it's best to deal with the fire.

huzzah get to that place where he gets picked up soon guys

I am that dude. *raises arms to receive praise* So anyway here is the character I want to play: Name: Zoss Gender: Let's identify him with masculine pronouns, but scientifically he really couldn't be identified as either gender. Age: Unknown, but biologically he is in the prime of his life Species: Slug Profession: Psychic Consultant Skills: Excellent at telepathic communication and the slug ability of locating others' minds, and he also possesses their talent of limited mind reading. Items: Portable holo-viewer, some rations. Appearance: Like all slugs, he resembles an enormous terran slug. He possesses no eyes, only pale constantly waving stalks and two long appendages that hang from the front of his body, near his mouth, which he uses as arms. He is pale, with white and blue markings. Personality: He is alienated from the humans he grew up with and his fellow slugs who he never lived with, although is obviously quite knowledgable and adept when it comes to dealing with human culture and their mannerisms. He possesses little positive feeling for his fellow sapients, remaining very self centered and prone to lashing out with criticism. Zoss feels very good when he can make others laugh, especially at people other than him, so he often employs humor to do so - it's a symptom of his desire to feel inclusion and love after a lifetime without it. Biography: Humans found his egg (they claim it was abandoned, but Zoss has his doubts) and brought it back to their colony to raise as a useful telepath. Zoss was bred to make the most of his slug abilities, sharpening them to a razor sharp edge at the expense of learning to live with other people; although he has lived with humans all his life, they never truly accepted him due to his alien appearance and intrusive telepathic abilities, and this has had a profound affect on him.

IC- Verak "WAHOOO!" I bellowed, leaping into the air and raising my pole victoriously. Smashing someone in the face so cleanly and powerfully was probably the most fulfilling feeling in the world, especially when you had so much pent up anger towards them or their species. This feel is only tripled when you see them get hit by an explosive. Man, that was cool. But I wasn't done yet. It looked like he was still standing and while he was disoriented was my perfect time to unleash another overly satisfactory strike. "BROTHER!" I shouted at the man who had just blown the gravity toa backwards whilst singing. "GET ME ONE OF THOSE EXPLOSIVES!" I ran and leaped off of the hut, raising a hand to catch one.

IC- Oshi The doors unexpectedly swung open, cutting off the potential answer to Enali’s question and revealing the athletic Dasaka standing in the doorway. She was grinning optimistically, standing proudly upright, exuding exuberance and looking as proud and regal as she ought to be as a powerful Menti soldier. She strode into the room, looking at the two Dasaka already present and giving each a small bow of the head to show respect. She took a position in the room that put her at equal distance to the two, forming a triangle between the three of them, and stood proudly and confidently. It was the stance of a soldier. “My name is Oshi,” she said, “And I assume you two are my companions in this venture.” Her tone was kind, yet sharp and to the point.

no

IC Have I ever mentioned that I hate Toa of Gravity? Every time I find out that the Toa I’m facing has the ability to send me shooting off into the heavens or crush me into the ground, my day goes from fantastic to downright obnoxious. I need to be moving all the time, y’see, and when I’m trapped like that, helpless… it’s like having an itch you can’t scratch. I go crazy. I can’t move like I have to, or fight them or escape. They can just prevent any hope I have of doing anything with a slight thought, and that bugs me, because it makes things very unfair. I like to pretend they are all related, or perhaps, share some weird religion between them, so I have a very specific target of people that I hate. I think I convinced some Onu-Matoran that they were plotting to take over the island once. Ahh, that was a fun stint in jail. Anyway, at least least this Gravity Toa had the courtesy not to float me away into the sky like a balloon, but nonetheless, I was trapped awkwardly in midair, stuck in place like a man with a spear pinning him to a wall. Thankfully, I had something this time that turned the odds in my favor: A Kualsi. I after flailing about helplessly and both quietly and not so quietly letting out some choice curse words that would make even the most hardened Le-Koronan gangsters pause and give me a look of grudging respect before trying to murder me to regain their family’s honor, I remembered what mask I wore. I waited until another explosive fruit distracted my enemy’s attention, forcing him to kneel and exert his power on a piece of roof. Before the debris from the explosion had even cleared, I teleported just above his head with a whoop. “SAY HELLO TO WHATEVER GOD YOU GRAVITY TOA WORSHIP-“ Still floating, I swung the bamboo pole like a golf club, it’s end aimed just at his face. “-!”

IC: Robot Defenses The turrets followed Cyrista, pivoting smoothly. A hail of laser fire flew noisily from their menacing, claw like mouths, smashing into the ground mere paces behind their target, leaving a trail of smoking scorch marks in the ground behind his path. A few even got close enough to singe him, grazing his metallic legs and torso and leaving smoking scars. But he was fast, and lucky. He placed one turret between him and the other, and the second’s laser blasts smashed harmlessly into the back of the first. He could not stay put long however, or he would soon find himself riddled with holes, so continued running. Thus, the turret was left with a few blast marks in it’s solid metal, but the second turret hadn’t done enough damage to truly harm it’s twin’s ability to function. IC: Robot Forces Attacking That Jungle Rescue Mission We All Forgot About Like any functioning being would, the robots all stopped firing at the humans and immediately took action to save themselves as the Celeritas let its salvo of missiles fly at them. Some scrambled hastily to find some rock, tree, or fallen log to put between them and the missile. Some simply turned tail and ran. Others redirected their firearms at the missiles. All had mixed success, of course. For some, the missile exploded mostly harmlessly in the air or on the ground near them, but many found pieces of shrapnel through vital sections of their body or simply found their vital sections of their body scattered indiscriminately across the forest. Sadly, the robot with the ultra-powerful beam weapon was not among one of those destroyed, although a massive splinter had jammed itself into the back of its knee, hampering it’s ability to move. IC: Ha-Ya-To Ha-Ya-To let out a whoop of excitement as he watched the robots die, run, or get injured by the explosives, but let it die as the first robot turned around and began to fire again at the mechs, unaffected by the devastation caused. “I suggest we take this moment we’ve bought ourselves to run like the dickens. Any opposed?” Ha-Ya-To asked with a forced grin.

IC: Robot Defenses Unfortunately for Cyrista, the turret's targeting system did not use a visual recognition system- the laser sights continued to track Cyrista's heat source, spraying a slew of deadly laser bolts at the cyborg.

OOC This slightly contradicts Snark Knight's recent post, but an easy application of BZPRPGTime(Copyright pending) ought to do the trick. IC: Jun One day, I woke up. Two cold, strong hands gripped me. They were metal hands, hard and smooth and painful. Robot hands. They forcefully ripped me from the peaceful sleep I had been enjoying. I coughed up the thick green fluid, blinked it out of my eyes, and tried to get my bearings. It was difficult. That fluid sucked itself into your pores and every part of your body it could. Forcefully ejecting it was not easy. I sweated and cried and spat and coughed and puked it out, leaving a trail of bodily fluids behind me as the robots dragged me through the hallway. By the time I regained control of my weak muscles and my other bodily functions, it was too late to run for safety. The two robots held my arms with an inhuman strength. I struggled and kicked and writhed, but they were too strong and I too weak. They didn’t even slow their pace. Eventually, after being dragged a short way through a maze of black metal corridors, covered in grills and glowing buttons and other artificial ugly décor, we turned through a doorway into a large shadowy chamber. In the center, illuminated by a bright white light, was a slab of metal. An operating table. Above it hung a metal device that resembled the arms of a spider, all hanging loosely and holding sharp cutting tools. One of the robots forcefully shoved me onto it, as the other walked away to get to the controls. I was being held by my neck now. My arms were free. Immediately, I reached up, wrapped my hand around the device’s arm that ended in a scalpel, and jammed it into one of my captor’s eyes. The robot released its grip on me, reeling backwards, and I stood and sprinted for the exit. The other robot yelled something at me in its harsh grating voice, but I couldn’t make out the words. My ears were still clogged with the stasis material. I was stumbling, still not in complete control of my muscles. My skin was caked in that substance still. I think I was dressed in some kind of medical robe. I slipped through the door as it was closing itself and moved down the corridor as fast as I could, stumbling and almost falling but moving all the while. On my left was a rack of weapons. I wrapped my hand around one of the guns, a larger one, and held it in front of me. The long body was too unbalanced to hold with one hand. I used two, holding it at my waist, still somehow sprinting. Two robots emerged from a side corridor. I shot them both. My aim was poor, but there was little room to miss. Both robots went flying backwards in spray of sparks and shrapnel. The blast doors in the hallway in front of me shut with a loud slam, and I turned right into the smaller passageway, the only way to go. The passageway turned out to be a long catwalk, a bridge that led over an enormous chasm. I looked down into the bowels of the robot fortress. Enormous shapes were barely visible through the gloom. I heard hisses and the creaking of metal. I kept on running, becoming surer with every step. I held my gun tightly. It was my best friend right now. Another robot appeared before me, at the end of the catwalk, where my path became a hallway once again. I blew its chest open and jumped over it. I kept on running, faster, faster, unwilling to stop. No time to think. Act. Run. I emerged above a large chamber, a bay where a collection of battle machines stood, being repaired and prepped for the next attack. I was up high, about to emerge on a narrow catwalk that hugged the walls. I glanced to my right. A couple robots were running at me along the catwalk, spewing laser blasts in my direction. Most missed, by I raised my weapon to shield as much of me as I could. A few blasts hit my gun, tearing it to pieces. I tossed the heavy thing aside as I vaulted over the railing and plummeted towards the ground. My legs crumpled beneath me with a stab of pain, and I screamed. Laser blasts peppered the area around me. I dragged myself forwards with my arms as quick as I could, finding shelter behind the leg of one of the Fire Vultures. I tried to move my own legs, and my vision was filled with a surge of red and my body shuddered in agony. They were probably broken. I couldn’t stop now I had to keep going I wouldn’t let them take me again. My hands gripped the armor of the mech, and I pulled myself up along the handholds built into the side. Every rung made me hurt more and more, and my arms were aching, but I couldn’t stop I had no choice. Somehow I dragged myself into the pilot seat, and two metal contraption things wrapped around my arms. I shouted and thrashed them, and the vulture’s arms did the same, throwing the large machine off balance. It leaned forwards, and I frantically flailed my arms and clicked the buttons and pulled hard on the levers, but my machine smashed into the metal ground face first. I heard robots approaching. Nonononononononononononono. I pulled another lever, and the turbine revved, and the machine shot forwards across the floor, trailing sparks behind it. I couldn’t see anything- the glass that encased my cockpit was pressed to the ground, and all I could see was a blur of black metal. A crack appeared in the glass. I pulled a few more levers and a few more buttons, and flung my hands up in frustration. The machine did the same, and somehow it rose up into the air and began to fly vertically. But then it continued its curve, doing some sort of odd flying backflip. Lasers and rockets flew past me and smashed into the machine. I let my arms drop and the machine flew straight. I moved my shoulders right and it flew right. Okay. I got this. Fly away. Ignore the pain. Ignore the pain. I wouldn’t let them take me again. I found myself flying at the far wall, having noticed an aperture in the side where light was streaming through. A doorway, it appeared, leading to the outside. With a resounding crash I flew through it. Mostly- it was too small for my mech. I shredded a good chunk of the wall and cleanly removed my rotor. I cursed loudly. My machine had emerged from the robot’s base, and still carried by its momentum, it flew over a large metal landing pad of sorts. Then I saw a large bridge beneath me. I thought I caught a glimpse of what must have been Tenchi Fortress, before my Fury started falling towards the ground. It hit the bridge hard. As metal crushed and sparks flew I felt another stab of pain rush through me, and despite my best efforts, I blacked out. I slept. OOC TL:DR A stolen, broken Fire Vulture just flew out of the robot fortress and crashed into the bridge. A human, still alive, is inside and unconscious waiting to be rescued before the robots take her back.

IC- Verak Well it's about time we had some action around here. I charged towards the battle, my keen sense of adventure ablee to pick it up the instant it started. It's a sort of crackle in the air, you know. You can sense the adrenaline run through everyone as they prepare to fight. Also, people fighting make a lot of noise too. I was not a part of the attacked group, so I was unseen by the attackers. I would catch them by surprise. Or perhaps not, considering my sense of strategy. As I ran past a growth of bamboo, I went into a controlled slide. Smoothly, I pulled my knife from it's sheath, wrapped my other hand around a stalk of bamboo, and slid the knife cleanly through the stalk. Even recently sharpened and with a lot of force behind it, it didn't cut through the bamboo, but when I came to my feet and twisted, not losing the momentum of my sprint, the bamboo twisted and snapped. I continued running, now a long bamboo pole held in my hands. I looked up at the hut in front of me. On top stood two archers, both Toa-shaped facing the other way at their targets. As I watched, one was pulled from the roof with a grappling gun, leaving the other to me. I grinned. Like a discus thrower, I spun around while hopping from one foot to another, putting enormous amounts of momentum into the bamboo pole in my hand. Then I let the bamboo pole fly towards the Toa, soaring shakily through the air. Distracted by something I couldn't see, the archer didn't get a chance to look at the bamboo. If he had, he would have been puzzled, because I had not thrown it like a javelin. The point was facing the sky, not him. Not only that, but it was going to fly far over him, missing him by a few body lengths. It was as if I was tossing the pole to someone over his head. I whooped enthusiastically, then ran and jumped into the air, and teleported above him. The bamboo spear and I reached the point above him at the same time, and my hand snapped out and wrapped around it. Then, laughing in exhilaration, I began to fall, and brought the pole down in a powerful arc towards him, my entire body bending to lend it more force.

If Ostia is the port that we see in MNOLG, which I assume is the main port of the region, then it should actually be somewhere in Leva Bay.