Wotz

We followed them to Xa-Koro then blew up one of their temples, then dined and dashed before the Islets were swallowed by the ocean, then I'm not sure since I lost track and apparently we're in Ga-Wahi now

No other years ever really managed to capture the epicness of 2001 and its two sequel years. Second is 2006 - I loved the dark setting, and the insanely overpowered baddies.

Did someone say 'blue'? ...No, you said 'purple'. Never mind. hey our avatars match ain't that funny

5/5 Hello, my colour brethren.

IC: Readra Readra shook his head. As much as he admired Lux's optimism, he knew that there wasn't the technology even on his home island to cure him of such a misfortune. Alas, it would help to be taken somewhere - he did still have other issues that needed sorting out. He pushed himself up into a sitting position and placed his hand on Lux's shoulder. "I have no idea how far from the village we are. It's possible you may have to lift me, somehow."

Exactly why I've been so sure until this post. The thing is, with every argument, you could say he adopted traits from his rival in some sort of ironic respectful way or whatever.

I think Kopaka seems more likely to strike out on his own, and I've been sure it's him until this one post, which does, in my opinion, make him seem more Tahu-ish.

IC: Tadris ... Voices, people walking to and fro, some kind of equipment being moved around, all seemingly trying to keep quiet as they came near wherever Tadris was. He was lying on something fairly soft, but was wrapped in some kind of papery sheet. It was jarring, for him, to suddenly be transported to a completely different location, clean, not in (as much) pain, feeling very much alive as opposed to essentially dead. Judging by the smell, and the sounds around him, he had been taken to a hospital of some kind. But nowhere near enough time had passed, right? It had only been minutes, seconds even... Slowly, he pried his eyelids apart and slowly looked around to find his suspicions were correct. Around him was what appeared to be a military medical center. Were his injuries so severe that he had been taken here instead? Or did they recognise him as somewhat of a member of the Po-Koro Guard (he wasn't sure himself whether that was a dream or not - it felt so long ago)? The facilities seemed to have a uniform of their own, with the same basic beds and equipment all through the room. Tadris had never been to a hospital before, at least not in a bed, but even so he could tell that this one was far smaller than the usual. It was unlikely they would know a Private by name, which left the last option: His injuries were so severe that just the infirmary was not enough. The Toa of fire felt, then, that his flame had lost its ferocity. His heart sank. Pushing himself up slightly, with some effort due to the clenching pain in his stomach, he turned to look around further, and found that to his left was sitting a strangely familiar Toa, sitting on a stool and staring at him. This made him jump slightly, but he hardly showed it, thanks to his entire body aching. The being before him wore grey-brown armour, and a Kakama of the same colour. He almost looked like a shadowy reflection of- "Rynekk?" Tadris breathed softly, gazing in shock at this Toa who looked just like his friend, only with all the life and colour drained from him. "I am Rynekk," the shadow-Rynekk said. "Or, Rynekk as he should be. As he really is. The face of his darkness, you might say. His shadow." "Cut the theatrics," Tadris growled. "I'm in no mood or condition to mess around. Who are you?" "You will find out who I am in time. For now, consider me a friend. But do not tell Rynekk about me. If he has any knowledge of my existence, his mind will burn and he will die... And I will die too," somehow, this Toa's completely infallible tale seemed somehow believable. There was something in the way he spoke that seemed... Trustworthy. "I doubt you would like another's blood on your conscience." At this, Tadris gritted his teeth. All that had happened was such a blur, but with these words, all of it came rushing back to him. The struggle. Twisting Quatan's neck. The mentally and physically broken Matoran finishing the job. The stabbing. All of it. Even the last thing he saw before finally going out: The knife. The notch at the end was missing. Changing the subject after his brief silence silence, Tadris spoke up, his voice beginning to come back to him with exercise. "Do you know anything about what they've done? Did they find any metal inside me, or look?" "I know nothing of such things. I'm merely a visitor. And," Rynekk's double said, turning to see a nurse enter holding a tablet, "it appears my time is up. We will, of course, meet again, Tadris. I wish you a speedy recovery, and for now, I bid you farewell." Tadris gave a weak little wave as the Toa left, almost bumping into the nurse, to whom he bowed his head politely, then left. The nurse came over to his bedside and began to tell him assorted details he already knew about his condition. It was clear this Matoran was trained for military injuries, as opposed to brutal stabbings on cliff edges, but Tadris was thankful they were doing their best. His thoughts began to drift elsewhere. Something was definitely afoot. This Toa who had come to visit him in hospital - something the real Rynekk had failed to do - had seemed dark and intimidating at first: he had said that he was Rynekk 'as he should be', as if there was something wrong with the real Rynekk. And the whole story about Rynekk's mind burning... It seemed strangely reminiscent of something else, but Tadris couldn't quite put his finger on it. This Toa, though, was kind and friendly. He had no specific agenda, other than to simply be here to wish him a speedy recovery. Something so simple was something Tadris had been pleasantly surprised by. But that led to the question: Where was the real Rynekk when Tadris was in hospital? One part of him told him that Rynekk was looking for him. He had been kidnapped after all. But another side told that Rynekk had forgotten him, that he had left him, given up. Tadris looked back to when he had first met him, all that time ago. He seemed possessed then, evil. What if those ways had come back? What if- No, thoughts like that didn't get anyone anywhere... Did they...? "...everal shards of metal were found and removed, safely-" "Did you get them all?" he asked urgently. The nurse nodded. "Are you sure?" "Yes, we are sure. You should be ready to leave by tomorrow or the day after. You need to make sure you get as much rest as possible and eat plenty of nourishing food. Meal times are..." The nurse's words and Tadris' attention then parted ways again. Was Rynekk looking for him? Was he kidnapped too, dead even? Was he a lost cause? Had Tadris' best friend left him?

IC: Readra Readra frowned slightly in thought, reaching out to wherever he had feeling. With some effort, he managed to move his arms, and wriggled them around a bit, loosing them up after such a long time being still. Several clicking sounds or varying strength came as he rotated his joints and exercised his muscles as everything snapped back into place. He then started to move his shoulders in circles, and flex his torso muscles, testing each area of his body one bit at a time. It was best, he thought, to take it slow and steady - after all, that's what wins the race. With a loud crunching sound, his back bent back slowly, and as it did Readra breathed a sigh of relief, thankful not only for the relief stretching so much gave him, but also for the face that he could, in fact, move his spine. The moment he knew was coming, but the knowledge of he had been repressing, finally came. As he went to move his legs, he realised that they were not responding. They didn't even feel like they were his legs. They didn't feel at all, in fact. At last, he began to accept it. "I can't feel my legs," he half-whispered, half-croaked, staring into space. "I can't feel my legs..."

IC: Tadris No matter how much Loren encouraged him to hold on, the Toa made no sign that he could hear, or move at all. All there was to show he was even alive was his rapidly weakening heart beat. Perhaps, maybe, he could hear the words, and desperately wanted to cry out, for someone to tell him it was going to be okay, that he was going to be fine. But he was on the brink of total shutdown. The edge of destruction.

IC: Readra "Y'know -koff- I'm not really sure whether it was night. But it -koff- was rough. Very rough..." he coughed again, this time tasting more blood than usual. He contemplated, for a moment, swallowing it, so as not to worry Lux, but thought his health was more important than his appearance, and thus spat it out onto the floor. He blinked a few times, looking around. Half of his vision was completely crimson, and the other blurred beyond possible sight. "I can't see a thing," Readra stated matter-of-factly.

IC: Stendhal "And how, Rynekk, Toa of fire, would you know that?" Stendhal asked, polishing off the rest of the bread. He folded his arms and crossed his legs, looking quite unlike he was being interrogated. "Since you seem to know an awful lot about who I am, and what I am doing here aboard a military vessel."

dude why are you still here get out already

OOC: LUX OMGOMGOMGOMG- Sorry. Pleasant surprise, is all. IC: Readra The world was formless, without any sort of physical manifestation, and neither was he. Readra's mind floated through an empty void of nothing, constantly wavering on the brink of collapse, wading in and out of oceans of thick, black, darkness, thinking, seeing, feeling little. Occasionally a word or an image would float past and he would catch onto it, but in time all things went away, diffused into the sea and died. That was the reality. Everyone dies. Even Readra Servio. Suddenly, life existed. Not life as he had known it for the last sixty million years, but intelligent, living, breathing, feeling, life. A real person. And not just any real person, at that. A Po-Matoran. One of the last people he had wanted to see before he went out. An old friend. Lux Saran. "Yo, Readra; you awake?" Servio coughed out some blood and dust, violently wretching and shaking, then turned over to his left, to face away from Lux and vomit a sickly colour. Several seconds passed as he began to reconnect with his physical form, the physical world. It felt like he had come home after a long journey, despite the relatively short time he had been trapped. Slowly, he turned around to do what he had intended to do: Speak. "You have got to be kidding me." Then he grinned. A battered, broken, tired grin, with missing teeth, half his face caked in blood and a sickly stench like a corpse radiating from his prone form, but a grin nonetheless. "I am so awake."

OOC: Vorex gave me Aru before anyone cries out in rage. IC: Zaruthan, Aru Zar stared, and Aru stared back. Screemah may have changed in viewpoint, but one thing remained the same: he was easily read. She searched his eyes, the window to his soul. Usually they were so brimming, no, overflowing with deceit, lies, slander, arrogance. Now, however, they were clear, honest, flaring - Aru had no idea what to think. It took a moment to sink in that he was being honest and true, let alone about such a daunting cause. After some time had passed, she had decided. This was her aim. This was what she had set out to do so many years ago. "I will help you." I smiled. I knew she would agree. I always knew. It's such a shame my talents had gone to waste for my entire life until this point. This moment was when everything changed. The beginning of the end. "Thank you," I tell her. After some hesitation I give a brief hug, then draw away quickly. Such a show of affection was... Alien to me. I'd never done anything and meant it before (I know I keep saying this, but it's true - I kept going over it in my head at the time), all the physical things like hugging and smiling and body language, until then, to me, it was all just stuff, things that you do to give off a certain impression. But here I was doing things because I was expressing my actual feelings. Feelings. From me. Yeah, I know. After some minutes of talking, we entered the tunnels once again, and began to make our way back to the main Mystix cave. From there, we would begin our rebellion.

Wait, what do you- *watches trailer* ... But of course, it's not like this hasn't happened before. He'll probably come back in this new form he's got in the toys and promos and such - Fatmaster Optimus Prime.

wow i totally didn't expect this i'll miss you man jk see you on other sites

The Catcher in the Rye. One of the shorter books on a list of 50 I intend to read, and my brother had told me it was great, so I went for it. A lot of fun to read, I thought, and very realistic. The thing is, it was so realistic that there was no clear theme to it, and the beginning and ending were kind of sudden. At the start he implies there is a point he's getting at in telling us this story, but it never seems to be made clear. Even the title is only explained briefly. After some thought it does seem to make more sense than it seemed to while reading it, but yeah. In some parts it's very relatable, and you notice things about people you know that you didn't quite manage to put your finger on before, but in other parts I completely lose touch. Maybe I feel a bit too strongly about him not liking 'the movies' - I mean, he does explain his point fairly well and all. What's surprising is, all of this doesn't make it a bad book. The way it's written is just an addictive style, and the character is a very free-spirited, funny and great guy. It's like reading a letter from a friend (which is, of course, the intention). At the end of the day, it's a fun, entertaining read, and I'd recommend it to any poor soul that had to force their way through this massive paragraph of mine to get to this sentence. So yeah, my Catcher in the Rye feels. At the moment I'm reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and it's possibly the strangest thing I have ever read. I love it.

I deliberately made the post unclear because: 1) I didn't want to go into too much detail and be too blunt about how severe their injuries were because let's face it, it's not a beautiful concept 2) From the character's point of view, this is the past, and everything is hazy with all the madness going down and all and i wanted to look cool by showing and not telling Content Warning: The following explanation isn't pretty. Quatan is an NPC I made specifically for that post. Tadris accidentally broke his neck in the struggle. It wasn't fatal, but Quatan was paralyzed, and as such finished the job by twisting his own neck, snapping it and killing him in the process. Tadris fell unconscious from blood loss after being stabbed in the torso a ridiculous amount of times, and it would help if someone went and stumbled upon him so I didn't have to save him myself. There happens to be a shard of razor-sharp metal inside his body as well, just for giggles.

IC: Stendhal Stendhal's expression was blank as he spoke. "Good question," he kicked his feet up, and took another bite of the bread. "Sure you don't want any?"

IC: Tadris Tadris opened his eyes. His body was black. The chair he was sitting in was also black. The air was black. Everything was black. I'm blind! I'M BLIND! "HELP! I'M BLIND!" "Don't be ridiculous," said a sophisticated voice in a matter-of-fact tone. "You aren't blind, you've just been blindfolded. Look, see!" a hand grabbed something on the back of his head and fiddled for a moment, before the veil descended and a dark room was brought into view. Tadris wasn't entirely sure what the point in blindfolding him in such a dark environment was, but he didn't bother questioning the logic of this mysterious Ta-Matoran who seemed surprisingly intimidating despite his comical voice and stature. "Um, hello...?" he asked, not daring to turn and look at him. "Hello. My name is Quatan." Tadris said nothing. "Nice to meet you too..." Quatan muttered, walking round so the Toa of fire could see him. "Toa with Kakama are usually hard ones to catch. Except, of course, for someone of my expertise!" the Matoran held up a blue Hau. No, not a Hau, a- "You took my mask!" Tadris exclaimed, realising why his face felt so bare. "He did say rookies tend to state the obvious more frequently," drawled the Matoran, rolling his eyes. "Oh really?" Tadris asked sarcastically. "And next you're going to tell me you caught me all by yourself (when we both know you didn't) and then go on a massive speech about how amazing you are and then go on to try and torture me or something. I assure you, I can't allow that to happen." There was a long silence. Quatan's mouth fell open slightly, giving him a strange expression of dull surprise. Tadris smiled. He loved having clever moments. "Best we proceed, then," the Matoran decided, drawing a knife from an unknown location. At the blade's tip was a tiny spike, evidently designed to break off as the weapon was drawn from the body. Tadris' face fell. He had to think of some way to escape, and fast, or in a few seconds time a shard of metal would be stuck in his body, slowly carving a path through his body. Not a fate he was fanatical about. Reaching out with his powers, straining his abilities to the limit, he drew in as much heat as he could from the air behind his hands. Time seemed to slow; Quatan's steps took years to occur, every second was a lifetime. How much longer could he keep this up? Almost... ...There! At last, he had built up enough energy to release a tiny burst of flame, which torched the ropes binding his hands and feet to the chair, allowing him to spring into action. Not wasting any time, he swung an arm out to his assailant. Even as he finished clenching a fist in mid-swing, it had connected with the Matoran's face, causing him to cry out in pain, "Ah! My face! What the-" Even without his mask, Tadris was a quick-moving fellow. Before the pain had even been registered, the mask in Quatan's hand was gone. Without hesitation, Tadris raised it up to his face and pressed it in, feeling it connect with a click, and its power wash over him, restoring him to the power he was used to. Only now, he felt far more appreciative of the abilities it gave him. Whirling around, he grabbed Quatan by the neck and raised him in front of him like a shield, before activating his mask and charging forward. He winced as the flimsy wall structure shattered, sending the two of them tumbling outside, down a shingle-coated slope to a rocky cliff-like edge hanging over the village in the Lake of Fire. Quatan rolled over and inadvertently fell from the ledge, just about catching himself on the hardened, rocky lava. It was tempting, oh, so tempting, to let his kidnapper fall to his doom, never to be seen again. No one would have to know about it, and the little prick would be getting what he deserved- No. That wasn't the Toa way. Swallowing his pride, Tadris reached down and took the Matoran's hand, hauling him up onto the ledge with him. "You... Shouldn't have done that..." Quatan croaked, before coughing out a cloud of dust and ash. "...Could have -koff- killed me -koff- better to let me die than let me kill you -koff- or... Others." "You won't kill me. You need me for something, like a ransom, maybe. Maybe you want to prove yourself, prove that being a Matoran doesn't make you less able to toy with a Toa. You're wasting your time, though. Deep down, you know this to be true." A silence between them. The flaring of lava in the distance. The wind in their ears. Both scowled at each other. "You think you can read me like a book, don't you?" Quatan growled at last, trembling with rage, an unstable volcano. It was then Tadris realised the knife was still in his hand, and scrambled to his feet, beginning to back away, then- A sharp pain in the back of his leg, toppling him. He gripped the wound even as blood began to pour out. He didn't want to hurt such an already mentally broken, weak individual. One more chance. "Don't do this, Quatan. You don't want to do this. I don't want to hurt y-" His last word was lost as the Matoran rushed forward, screaming, bringing the knife in, out, in, out. Tadris barely had time to realise what was going on. Another, another, another, another, another. It seemed like it would never end. The shock, the pain, the horrible, sickly feeling of cold metal entering his body. It just kept coming. In a last ditch attempt to stop his attacker, Tadris sent a jet of flame out of his hand, warding Quatan back, even as the Toa of fire fell to the ground, gripping his stomach, trying in vain to stall the rapidly forming puddle of crimson. While he was distracted by the wounds, Quatan charged again, this time jumping on top of the Toa, bringing the knife down towards his face. Tadris' hand darted out and caught the Matoran's at the wrist, forcing the blade-wielding arm back. The madman was repeating something, again and again, but Tadris barely heard him. The pain was blinding, deafening. It was all he could do to pour as much heat as he could into the Matoran's arm, forcing him to drop the knife, then clamp his two hands over Quatan's face, obstructing his vision, breaking his concentration. But then it twisted. Then he heard the crack. Both of them stopped struggling. Tadris threw his attacker on the ground beside him, trying to force the words out of his lips, but the came only as a whisper, like his breath had simply been moulded into words. imsorryimsosorryimsorryimsorrididntmeantoimsosorry "Shut up," Quatan choked, his neck twisted out of shape, the rest of his body limp. A terrible mutilation of what he once was. "You deny it, but deep down, you- you meant to kill me," nonononono "Yes... I might as well- might as well finish the job..." nodontimsorryyoudontunderstandimsorryokay "Just stop. Heh... Heh- when they- when they find us... You'll be blamed too... They'll take you, imprison you... So many years- if you survi- if you survive..." nodontyoudarepleasedontno "Ha... Ha ha... Ha, ha ha hahahahahahahAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAAAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA-" -crunch- Suicide. That's what it was, right? He killed himself, in the end. That made it okay, didn't it? Tadris rolled over and saw the knife. The shard at the end was gone, now somewhere in his own body. Darkness began to creep in from the corners of his vision. The words Quatan was chanting rang in his ears. Then the world went black. Everything was black. "You don't understand me."

Looks like the best way to get interaction is to stowaway aboard a military vessel. Who knew.

IC: Zaruthan I took Aru's claw in his own and held on tight. "We can bring him down, Aru. Me and you. We can bring down Zarnarax, just like he brought down his brother. All I want is your help in this." For the first time in as long as I could remember, I was asking for someone's genuine allegiance for a cause that would actually benefit someone other than myself. And as much as it pained me to admit it, it felt... Good. Feeling like I was helping other people felt good. There, I said it. Shoot me.